Tech Support: “I need you to right-click on the Open Desktop.”
Customer: “Ok.”
Tech Support: “Did you get a pop-up menu?”
Customer: “No.”
Tech Support: “Ok. Right click again. Do you see a pop-up menu?”
Customer: “No.”
Tech Support: “Ok, sir. Can you tell me what you have done up until this point?”
Customer: “Sure, you told me to write ‘click’ and I wrote click’.”
Paradise is the place where the humorists are British, chefs are French, mechanics are German, lovers are Portuguese and everything is organized by the Swiss.
Hell is the place where humorists are German, chefs are British, mechanics are French, lovers are Swiss and everything is organized by the Portuguese.
One day, in line at the works cafeteria, Jack says to Mike behind him, ‘My elbow hurts like hell. I suppose I’d better see a doctor!’
‘Listen mate ; don’t waste your time down at the surgery’, Mike replies. There’s a diagnostic computer at Tesco. Just give it a urine sample and the computer will tell you what’s wrong, and what to do about it. It takes ten seconds and only costs five quid….a lot quicker and better than a doctor and you get Clubcard points’.
So Jack collects a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Tesco. He deposits five pounds and the computer lights up and asks for the urine sample. He pours the sample into the slot and waits.
Ten seconds later, the computer ejects a printout: ‘You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and avoid heavy activity. It will improve in two weeks’.
That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was, Jack began wondering if the computer could be fooled.
He mixed some tap water, a stool sample from his dog, urine samples from his wife and daughter, and ‘pleasured himself’ into the mixture for good measure. Jack hurried back to Tesco, eager to check what would happen.
He deposits five pounds, pours in his concoction, and awaits the results with a grin. The computer prints the following:
1) Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener.
2) Your dog has ringworm. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.
3) Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab.
4) Your wife is pregnant. Twins. They aren’t yours. Get a lawyer.
5) And if you don’t stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get better….
Thank you for shopping at Tesco
When you occasionally have a really bad day and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don’t know.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I’d forgotten to make. I found the number and dialled it. A man answered, saying ‘Hello.’ I politely said, ‘This is David. Could I please speak with Robert Campbell?’ Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear ‘Get the right number moron!’ and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude.
When I tracked down Robert’s correct number to call him, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits. After hanging up with him, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled ‘You’re an idiot!’ and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word ‘idiot’ next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, ‘You’re an idiot!’ It always cheered me up.
One day I was at Lakeside Shopping Centre, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a gunmetal grey Land Rover cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I’d been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. Noticed a ‘For Sale’ sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number. A couple of days later, right after calling the first idiot (I had his number on speed dial,).
I thought that I’d better call the Land Rover idiot, too.
I said, ‘Is this the man with the gunmetal grey Land Rover for sale?’ Yes, it is’, he said. ‘Can you tell me where I can see it?’ I asked. ‘Yes, I live at 129 Alice Street, in Ilford. It’s a terraced house, and the car’s parked right out in front.’ ‘What’s your name?’ I asked. ‘My name is Steve Hansen,’ he said. ‘When’s a good time to catch you, Steve?’ ‘I’m home most days as I’m currently unemployed.’ ‘Listen, Steve, can I tell you something?’
‘Yes?’
‘Steve, you’re an idiot!’
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two idiots to call. Then one day I came up with an idea. I called idiot #1. ‘Hello?’ ‘You’re an idiot!’ (but I didn’t hang up.) ‘Are you still there?’ he asked. ‘Yeah.’ I said. ‘Stop calling me!’ he screamed. ‘Make me.’ I said. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘My name is Steve Hansen.’ ‘Yeah? Where do you live?’ ‘I live at 129 Alice Street, Ilford, a terraced house, with my gunmetal grey Land Rover parked out the front.’
He said, ‘I’m coming over right now, Steve. And you had better start saying your prayers.’ I said, ‘Yeah, like I’m really scared… idiot.’ and hung up. Then I called idiot #2. ‘Hello?’ he said. ‘Hello, idiot,’ I said. He yelled, ‘If I ever find out who you are…’ ‘You’ll do what?’ I said.
‘I’ll kick your head in,’ he exclaimed. I answered, ‘Well, idiot, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.’
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 129 Alice Street, Ilford, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 5 News about the hoodie war going down in Alice Street, Ilford.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Alice Street. I got there just in time to watch two idiots beating the brains out of each other in front of six police cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
Now I feel MUCH better.
Take it from me, anger management really works.
Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with an expensive double-pane energy efficient kind.
Today, I got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the work had been completed a whole year ago, and I still hadn’t paid for them.
Well, hellloooo,………..just because I’m blonde doesn’t mean that I am automatically stupid. So, I told him exactly what his fast talking sales guy had told me last year, that in ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves!
Helllooooo? It’s been a year! I told him. There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up
He never called back.
Guess I won that stupid argument.
I bet he felt like an idiot.
Ik schrijf, of liever gezegd -type-, nog wat tekst om net te doen alsof ik aan het werk ben terwijl dat eigenlijk helemaal niet zo is.
Hoewel, wat is werk eigenlijk? Moet je iets doen om aan het werk te zijn, of is het genoeg om achter je bureau op je werk te zitten. In het weekend zeg je dat je naar je werk gaat, maar je kunt ook zeggen dat je ‘aan het werk gaat’, maar niemand zegt het zo omdat dit betekent dat je dan daadwerkelijk iets doet. Naar het werk gaan betekent dat je naar een plek gaat en niet dat je per se daar productief hoeft te zijn.
Ik denk daarom dat het volstrekt te rechtvaardigen is om helemaal niets te doen als je op je werk zit (vreemde uitdrukking eigenlijk, ik zit op een stoel maar ik voel niets anders dan de zachte zitting?).
Ondertussen dwalen mijn gedachten af en klinkt het zachte geklets van mijn collega’s als een fris kabbelend bergbeekje. Wat is werken toch heerlijk ontspannend. Ik ben erg benieuwd naar wat nu toch dat belangrijke nieuws is waar de HR manager vanmiddag met me wil bespreken, zou ik misschien promotie krijgen?
Ik schrijf maar nog wat meer tekst, het moet niet gekker worden! Straks denken mijn collega’s nog dat ik bij allerlei geheime nieuwe projecten betrokken ben waar zij niets van mogen weten! Ze deden al zo raar toen ik zei dat ik vanmiddag met de HR manager ga praten. Wat een gedoe is werken toch! Ik denk dat ik maar even naar de wc ga, ik ben pas vier keer geweest vandaag en ik ben vast van plan om mijn highscore patiencen op mijn mobiele telefoon een dezer dagen flink te verbeteren…
Zo, weer een half uurtje verder, ik denk dat ik maar eens een kopje koffie ga halen…
Nou dat was gezellig zeg! Ik wist helemaal niet dat Jaap van de boekhouding zo’n vervent sportvisser was! Erg boeiend om te horen hoe hij gisteravond maar liefst twee witvissen heeft gevangen in de sloot achter de kerk in de Leeuwenstaat waar hij altijd tussen de rij geparkeerde auto’s zijn fiets parkeert zodat hij een goede plek heeft om zijn viskist neer te zetten. Jammer dat de strubbelingen met de buurtbewoners over het gebruik van deze parkeerplek zoveel strubbelingen met zich meebrengt, zo wordt een ontspannend vis-avondje toch wel een erg stressvolle gebeurtenis.
He een email!, in welke map zal ik deze eens archiveren? Er is vast toch wel iemand tussen de negentien ontvangers die ervoor zal zorgen dat Theo zijn project voortgangsrapport krijgt? Ja, de map ‘Projecten’ lijkt me wel een goede om deze mail in te plaatsen. Of zal ik hem in de map rapporten plaatsen? Mmm, het rapport is nog niet gemaakt, dus ‘projecten’ lijkt me toch het beste.
Oh gut, is het al zo laat? Nog even gauw naar de WC voordat ik me klaar ga maken voor de reis naar huis…
Goed, nog vijfentwintig minuten en dan is het half zes. Dat geeft me nog net genoeg tijd om te checken of er nog iets leuks op Geenstijl staat, om mijn koffiekopje in de keuken te zetten, mijn computer uit te zetten en mijn jas aan te doen. Morgen weer een dag. En volgende week ga ik heerlijk op een welverdiende vakantie naar de camping!
January
Took new scarf back to store because it was too tight.
February
Fired from pharmacy job for failing to print labels. Helllloooo!
Bottles won’t fit in typewriter!
March
Got really excited…..finished jigsaw puzzle in 6 months…..box said ’2-4 years!’
April
Trapped on an escalator for hours…..power went out!
May
Tried to make Kool-Aid….wrong instructions….8 cups of water won’t fit into those little packets!
June
Tried to go water skiing…..couldn’t find a lake with a slope.
July
Lost breast stroke swimming competition…..learned later, the other swimmers cheated, they used their arms!
August
Got locked out of my car in rain storm…..car swamped because soft-top was open.
September
The capital of California is ‘C’…..isn’t it?
November
Baked turkey for 4 1/2 days…..instructions said 1 hour per pound and I weigh 108 lbs!
December
Couldn’t call 911…..’duh’…..there’s no ‘eleven’ button on the stupid phone!
What a year!!.
Hans Jørgen Olsen, a 12-year-old Norwegian boy, recently survived a moose attack by feigning death, “just like you learn at level 30 in World of Warcraft.”
In WoW, “feign death” is a skill acquired by hunters at level 30 that allows them to take a page from the possum playbook, collapse to the ground, and convince their enemies — who lose all ingrained animosity in the process — that they’ve died.
According to Norwegian site Nettavisen , Hans and his sister apparently enraged one of the local moose (mooses? meese?) during a walk in the forest near their home. After shouting at the gigantic creature to ward it away from his sister, Olsen dropped to the ground, and presumably his lifebar plummeted to zero.
Moose have never been known as the wisest creature in the forest, and the boy’s show of necrosis seems to have worked, as both he and his sister survived intact.
A few beers short of a six-pack.
A few clowns short of a circus.
A few feathers short of a whole duck.
A few fries short of a Happy Meal.
A few peas short of a casserole.
A few pickles short of a jar.
A hole in his bag of marbles.
A living example of artificial intelligence.
About as bright as a black hole.
About as sharp as a bowling ball.
About as sharp as jello.
About as smart as live bait.
All foam, no beer.
All sail and no boat.
An experiment in Artificial Stupidity.
An intellect rivaled only by that of garden tools.
As sharp as a marble.
As smart as bait.
Chimney’s clogged.
Doesn’t have all his cornflakes in one box.
Doesn’t have all his dogs on one leash.
Doesn’t know which side of the toast the butter is on.
Dumber than a box of hair.
Forgot to pay his brain bill.
Grease spot on the driveway of life.
Her elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor.
His Slinky’s kinked.
Knitting with only one needle.
Not the brightest color…in the crayon box.
One Froot Loop shy of a full bowl.
One sandwich short of a picnic.
One taco short of a combination plate.
She’s sharp as a marble!
Strong, like a Bear…Smart, like a Tractor.
Studies hard for blood tests.
The cheese slid off his cracker.
The wheel’s spinning, but the hamster’s dead.
Op een dag loopt Sjefke (een belg) op de markt. Tot zijn grote verbazing ziet hij daar een man bananenpitten verkopen en omdat Sjefke nogal nieuwsgierig van aard is loopt hij op deze man af en vraagt waar de bananenpitten voor dienen. “Nou”, zegt de verkoper, “Als je een week lang elke dag een bananenpit eet dan wordt je aanzienlijk slimmer.” Dit bevalt Sjefke wel en om die reden koopt hij 7 bananenpitten. “Dat is dan 490 gulden” zegt de verkoper. Na wat aarzelen koopt Sjefke toch de pitten.
Na die week komt Sjefke erachter dat hij genaaid is, immers bananenpitten bestaan helemaal niet. Dus Sjefke terug naar die verkoper. “Je hebt me gewoon genaaid met die bananenpitten van je” zegt Sjefke tegen de verkoper. “Zie je nou dat je slimmer geworden bent” zegt de verkoper. “Verrek” zegt Sjefke, “doe mij nog maar 7 bananenpitten!”