So, if this works out right, it’s Saturday Morning and you are reading this, and it’s a complete, whole and perfectly funny issue.  All we can do is hope, right?  Have faith.  I just read that a minute ago, and although it was written about God, it can apply here, too.

“Now, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1 

And since it is Thursday night, and I’m just starting this, I have the faith that it will be complete for you by Saturday morning, when I will be at work, teaching GIs how to stay alive in crappy environments.  Like this.

Yeah, just like that.  

Uh huh… sure.

Anyway, that’s how it’s all supposed to work out.  I have the faith that you guys are going to be readying a complete issue even though from my perspective, there is no evidence of that seen right now. 

So, what do you say we get some of that started, shall we?

Yeah, I can’t wait for you to try it out, either.

A silly joke from Joe…

A man is playing the piano softly one night in a downtown bar.

In walks an elephant (told you it was silly) who goes over to the pianist, and suddenly the elephant starts to cry.

“There, there”, says the pianist “Do you recognize the song?”

“No, no,” says the elephant ” I recognize the white keys.”

Two good old boys, Bubba and Junior have been promoted from Privates to Sergeants. Not long after, they’re out for a walk and Bubba says, “Hey, Junior, there’s the NCO Club. Let’s  you and me stop in and have a drank.”

“But we’s privates,” protests Junior. “We’s sergeants now,” says Bubba, pulling him inside. “Now, Junior, I’m gonna sit down and have me a drank.” “But, we’s privates,” says Junior. “You blind, boy?” asks Bubba, pointing at his stripes. “We’s Sergeants now.”

So they order their drinks and pretty soon a  hooker comes up to Bubba. “You’re cute,” she says, “and I’d like to take you some place and make you feel good but I’ve got a bad case of gonorrhea.”

Bubba pulls his friend to the side and whispers, “Junior, go look in the dictionary and see what gonorrhea means. If it’s okay, give me the okay sign.”

Junior goes to look it up, comes back, and gives Bubba the big okay sign.

Three weeks later Bubba is laid up in the infirmary with a terrible case of gonorrhea. “Junior,” he says, “What you give me the okay for?” “Well Bubba, in the dictionary, it says gonorrhea only affects the privates.” Then he pointed to his stripes and says, “But we’s Sergeants now!

A doctor can bury his mistakes but an architect can only advise his clients to plant vines. 

– Frank Lloyd Wright (1868-1959) 

I had an old friend and mentor when I was growing up.  He was a good guy.  Ended up being in a movie or two.

So much truth.  Can’t be soon enough.

A man comes to the birth registration office to register his newborn son. 

The man behind the counter asks the name he wants to give to the boy, and the father replies: “Euro.” 

 The man says that such a name is not acceptable, because it’s a currency. 

Says the father: “There were no objections when I called my first two sons Mark and Frank.” 

The really sad part is, they are probably lined up out the door for the “sale”!

Two youngsters were closely examining bathroom scales on display at the department store. 

“Have you ever seen one of these before?” one asked. 

“Yeah, my mom have one,” the other replied. 

“What’s it for?” 

“It’s a cussing machine,” the second boy answered. 

“Every time she stands on it she gets really mad.” 

I really need to try that, just to see if I can get someone to do it.

A group of golfers were telling tall stories. At last came the veteran’s turn. “Well,” he said, “I once drove a ball, accidentally of course, through a cottage window. The ball knocked over an oil lamp and the place caught on fire!” 

“What did you do?” asked his friends. 

“Oh,” said the veteran, “I immediately teed another ball, took careful aim, and hit the fire alarm on Main Street. That brought out the fire engines before any major damage was done.” 

Well, that’s just like our brother Sasquatch to pull those kinds of pranks.  

Okay, you guys know what I do for a living, most of you know what I’ve done throughout my life, so when I say this, know that I say it with the voice of an absolute professional…

THAT’S DISGUSTING!!!

“Hey!  Oi!  Excuse me!  Down here!  Right, Can I ask a big favor of you?  Yeah, you.  I would really appreciate it if you would STOP PEEING IN MY LAKE!  I LIVE DOWN HERE FOR CRYING-OUT-LOUD!!!  Thanks big guy!”

That was me this morning.

For decades, two heroic statues, one male and one female, faced each other in a city park until one day, an angel came down from heaven. 

“You’ve been such exemplary statues,” the angel said, “that I’m going to give you a special gift. I’m going to bring you both to life for thirty minutes, during which time you can do anything you want.” And with a clap of his hands, the angel brought the statues to life. 

The two approached each other a bit shyly and dashed for the bushes, from whence there came a good deal of giggling, laughter, and shaking of branches. 

Fifteen minutes later, the two statues emerged from the bushes with wide grins on their faces. 

“You still have fifteen more minutes,” said the angel, winking at them. Grinning even more broadly, the female statue turned to the male statue and said, “Great! Only this time you hold the pigeon down and I’ll crap on it’s head!” 

Yeah, we don’t really have many bones, do we?

Oh yeah!  I want one of those!  But it wouldn’t just be up for Halloween!

Catching her in the act, I confronted our 3-year-old granddaughter, “Are you eating your little sister’s grapes?” I demanded.

“No,” she innocently replied, “I’m helping her share.”

REJECTED NURSERY RHYMES

JACK AND JILL Went up the hill To have a little fun. Stupid Jill Forgot the pill And now they have a son.

MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB Her father shot it dead Now it goes to school with her, Between two hunks of bread.

LITTLE MISS MUFFET Sat on a tuffet, Her clothes all tattered and torn. It had not been the spider that crept up beside her But Little Boy Blue and his horn.

SIMPLE SIMON Met a Pieman going to the fair Said Simple Simon to the Pieman “What have you got there?” Said the Pieman unto Simon “Pies, you dumbass!”

HUMPTY DUMPTY Sat on a wall Humpty dumpty had a great fall All the kings horses and all the kings men Had scrambled eggs for breakfast again.

HEY DIDDLE, DIDDLE, The cat did a piddle, All over the bedside clock, The little dog laughed to see such fun When it died of electric shock.  

GEORGIE PORGY Pudding and Pie Kissed the girls and made them cry. When the boys came out to play He kissed them too, ’cause he was gay.

THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL who had a little curl! Right in the middle of her forehead And when she was good, She was very very good But when she was bad she got a Fur coat, jewels, and a sports car.

The plane was loaded with people & it made a refueling stop.

They were told they would be on the ground for 1 hour and they could leave the plane while they refuel.

They all got off except for a blind man and his dog.

The pilot went to the back of the plane and saw the blind man.

He had known him from his travels before. He approached the man and said, “Keith, would you like to leave the plane and stretch your legs?”

“No, thank you,” the man said, “but my dog would.”

The pilot was seen passing through the gate with dark sunglasses and the dog.

Most passengers changed their flight.

A friendship founded on business is better than a business founded on friendship.

– John D. Rockefeller (1874-1960)

I love this one…it’s like the perfect joke.  The one above that is.

Georgia  Law

Members of the state assembly cannot be ticketed for speeding while the state assembly is in session.

Okay, if that’s loose gravel, then I’m a salamander in a dress!!!!

AMEN!!!

The young mom was almost crazy with her three young kids.  She complained to her best friend, “They’re driving me nuts!!  Such pests. They give me no rest and I’m half way to the funny farm.”

“What you need is a playpen to separate the kids from yourself,” her friend said.

So she bought a playpen A few days later, her friend called to ask how things were going.

“Superb!  I can’t believe it,” the young mother said.  “I get in that pen with a good book, a chocolate bar, and the kids don’t bother me for hours!”

Pick Up Lines

HE: Can I buy you a drink?
SHE: Actually I’d rather have the money.

HE: I’m a photographer. I’ve been looking for a face like yours.
SHE: I’m a plastic surgeon. I’ve been looking for a face like yours.

HE: Hi. Didn’t we go on a date once? Or was it twice?
SHE: Must’ve been once. I never make the same mistake twice.

HE: How did you get to be so beautiful?
SHE: I must’ve been given your share.

HE: Will you go out with me this Saturday?
SHE: Sorry. I’m having a headache this weekend.

HE: Your face must turn a few heads
SHE: And your face must turn a few stomachs.

HE: Go on, don’t be shy. Ask me out.
SHE: Okay, get out.

HE: I think I could make you very happy.
SHE: Why? Are you leaving?

HE: What would you say if I asked you to marry me?
SHE: Nothing. I can’t talk and laugh at the same time.

HE: Can I have your name?
SHE: Why? Don’t you already have one?

HE: Shall we go see a movie?
SHE: I’ve already seen it.

HE: Where have you been all my life?
SHE: Hiding from you.

HE: Haven’t I seen you some place before?
SHE: Yes. That’s why I don’t go there anymore.

HE: Is this seat empty?
SHE: Yes, and this one will be if you sit down.

HE: So, what do you do for a living?
SHE: I’m a female impersonator.

HE: Hey baby, what’s your sign?
SHE: Do not enter.

HE: Your body is like a temple.
SHE: Sorry, there are no services today.

HE: If I could see you naked, I’d die happy.
SHE: If I saw you naked, I’d probably die laughing.

HE: Where have you been all my life?
SHE: Where I’ll be the rest of your life – in your wildest dreams.

My first thought is that this is a vehicle that drives on an airfield and that is a magnet to pick up what we call FOD.  FOD are those little bits and pieces that can be metal, that can get sucked up into a jet engine and destroy them.  So, it makes sense that FOD stands for Foreign Object Damage.  The only real problem with this is that most FOD on an airfield comes from those little bitty rocks that get stuck in the tire treads of the vehicles that drive on the active airfield.  But, every little bit helps.  That’s my official Air Force Dragon supposition.  

An Australian entered a bar and stood beside a Scotsman.

“Where are you from, pal?” asked the Scotsman, after they had chatted for a while.

“I’m from the finest country in the whole wide world.” Said the Australian.

“Are you?” said the other, “you have a damn funny accent for a Scotsman.”

There is a back story behind that picture that I would just LOVE to hear.  I know that it has got to be GREAT!

I loved that one.  That’s IKEA really knowing its own reputation.

This one is brought to us by our brother Sasquatch

Please, take special care when you drive this holiday season. A recent  joint study conducted by the Department of Health and the Department of  Motor Vehicles indicates that 23% of traffic accidents are alcohol related.

This means that the remaining 77% are caused by drivers who just drink tea, coffee, lattes, sodas, juices, and shit like that.

Therefore, beware of those who do not drink  alcohol. They cause three times as many  accidents.

This message  is as a Public Service Announcement because we care about your well-being this holiday season

Okay, this is an absolutely hilarious email, sent to me by our good buddy Joe from NJ.  I laughed so hard while reading this.  Thanks brother, this one was great!

A PLEA FOR HELP FROM A GROUNDED AUSTRALIAN PILOT TO HIS FRIEND

Hi Mate,

I am writing to you because I need your help to get me bloody pilot’s license back. You keep telling me you got all the right contacts.  Well now’s your chance to make something happen for me because, mate, I’m bloody desperate. But first, I’d better tell you what happened during my last flight review with the CAA examiner.

On the phone, Ron (that’s the CAA dickhead) seemed a reasonable sort of bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every two years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property, and let me operate from my own strip.

Naturally I agreed to that.

Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead because the ALA (Authorized Landing Area) is about a mile away. I explained that because this strip was so close to the homestead it was more convenient than the ALA, and despite the power lines that cross about midway down the strip it’s really not a problem to land and take-off because at the half-way point down the strip you’re usually still on the ground.

For some reason Ron seemed nervous. So although I had done the pre- flight inspection only four days earlier I decided to do it all over again. Because Ron was watching me carefully, I walked around the plane three times instead of my usual two. My effort was rewarded because the color finally returned to Ron’s cheeks. In fact, they were a bright red.

In view of Ron’s obviously better mood, I told him that I was going to combine the test with some farm work as I had to deliver three poddy calves from the home paddock to the main herd. After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and threw them into the back of the ol’ Cessna 172. We climbed aboard but Ron started getting on to me about weight and balance calculations and all that crap. Of course I knew that thing was a waste of time because calves like to move around a bit, particularly when they see themselves 500 feet off the ground. So it’s bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did tell Ron that he shouldn’t worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on neutral to ensure that we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the flight.

Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by tramping hard on the brakes and gunned her to 2,500 rpm. I then discovered that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a bloody headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle and demanded that I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and was caused by a screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and lodged in the fuel selector mechanism. The selector can’t be moved now but it doesn’t matter because it’s jammed on “All Tanks” so I suppose that’s okay.

However, as Ron was obviously a real nit-picker, I blamed the noise on a vibration from a steel thermos flask which I keep in a beaut possie between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My explanation seemed to relax Ron because he slumped back in the seat and kept looking up at the cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out but unfortunately the plane gave a leap and spun to the right. “Hell”, I thought, “not the starboard chalk again.” The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness.  He looked wildly around just in time to see a rock thrown by the propwash disappear completely through the windscreen of his brand new Commodore.

While Ron was ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that we taxi to the ALA and instead took off under the power lines. Ron didn’t say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right at the lift off point, then he bloody screamed his head off. “Oh God!  Oh God! Oh God!” “Now take it easy, Ron” I told him firmly. “That often happens after take-off and there is a good reason for it.” I explained patiently that I usually run the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally put in a gallon or two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of the kerosene I siphoned in a few gallons of super MOGAS and shook the wings up and down a few times to mix it up.

Since then, the engine has been coughing a bit but in general it works just fine if you know how to coax it properly. Anyway, at this stage, Ron seemed to lose all interest in my flight test. He pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became lost in prayer. (I didn’t think that anybody was a Catholic these days.)

I selected some nice music on the HF radio to help him relax. Meanwhile, I climbed to my normal cruising altitude of 10,500 feet. I don’t normally put in a flight plan or get the weather because, as you know getting fax access out here is a friggin joke and the bloody weather is always 8/8 blue anyway. But since I had that near miss with a Saab 340 I might have to change my thinking on that. Anyhow, on leveling out I noticed some wild camels heading into my improved pasture. I hate bloody camels and always carry a loaded .303 clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case I see any of the bastards.  We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle out the effect on Ron was friggin’ electric.

As I fired the first shot his neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a rabbit with myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an electric cattle prod on full power. In fact, Ron’s reaction was so distracting that I lost concentration for a second and the next shot went straight through the port tyre. Ron was a bit upset about the shooting (probably one of those pinko animal lovers I guess) so I decided not to tell him about our little problem with the tyre.

Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter pilot trick.  Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence, I pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a sideslip from 10,500 feet down to 500 feet and 130 knots indicated (the last time I looked anyway) and the little needle rushing up the red area on me ASI. What a buzz, mate! About half way through the descent I looked back in the cabin to see the calves suspended in mid air and mooing like crazy. I was going to comment on this unusual sight but Ron looked a bit green and had rolled himself into the fetal position and was screamin’ his freaking head off. Mate, talk about being in a bloody zoo.  You should have been there, it was so bloody funny.

At about 500 feet I attempted to level out. For some reason we continued sinking. When we reached 50 feet I applied full power but nothing happened; no noise, no nothin. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor’s voice in me head saying “carby heat, carby heat”. So I pulled carby heat on and that helped quite a lot, with the engine finally regaining full power. Whew, that was really close, let me tell you. Then mate, you’ll never guess what happened next!

As luck would have it, at that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the cattle and suddenly went I.F. bloody R. You would’ve been bloody proud of me as I didn’t panic once, not once, but I did make a mental note to consider an instrument rating as soon as me gyro is repaired. (Something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now.) Suddenly Ron’s elongated neck and bulging eyes reappeared. His mouth opened wide, very wide, but no sound emerged. “Take it easy,” I told him. “We’ll be out of this in a minute.” Sure enough, about a minute later we emerge; still straight and level and still at 50 feet.  Admittedly, I was surprise to notice that we were upside down and I kept thinking to myself, “I hope Ron didn’t notice that I had forgotten to set the QNH when we were taxiing”.

This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get upright again. By now the main herd had divided into two groups leaving a narrow strip between them. “Ah!,” I thought, “there’s an omen. We’ll land right there.”

Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple of steep turns with full flap.  Soon the stall warning horn was blaring so loud in me ear that I cut it’s circuit breaker to shut it up, but by then I knew we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply into a 75 foot final and put her down with a real thud.

Strangely enough, I had always thought you could only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I was proved wrong again. Halfway through our third loop Ron at last recovered his sense of humor. Talk about laugh. I’ve never seen the likes of it. He couldn’t stop. We finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted out of the aircraft like there was no tomorrow. I then began picking clumps of dry grass.  Between gut wrenching fits of laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff the port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was then that Ron really lost the plot and started running away from the aircraft.

Can you believe it? The last time I saw him he was off into the distance, arms flailing in the air and still shrieking with laughter.  I later heard that he had been confined to a psychiatric institution- poor bugger.

Anyhow, mate, that’s enough about Ron. The problem is, I just got a letter from CASA withdrawing, as they put it, my privileges to fly; until I have undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another flight proficiency test. Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and not setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can’t see what else I did that was so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin’ license.

Can you?

Well, Bill” said God, “I’m confused on this one. I’m not sure whether to send you to Heaven or Hell! After all, you enormously helped society by putting a computer in almost every home in the world, and yet you created that ghastly Windows. I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. “I’m going to let you decide where you want to go!” 

Mr. Gates replied “Well, thanks, God. What’s the difference between the two?” 

God said “You can take a peek at both places briefly if it will help you decide. Shall we look at Hell first?” 

“Sure!” said Bill. Let’s go!” Bill was amazed! He saw a clean, white sandy beach with clear waters. There were thousands of beautiful women running around, playing in the water, laughing and frolicking about. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect! Bill said “This is great! If this is Hell, I can’t wait to see Heaven!” 

To which God replied “Let’s go!”and off they went. 

Bill saw puffy white clouds in a beautiful sky with angels drifting about playing harps and singing. It was nice, but surely not as enticing as Hell. Mr. Gates thought for only a brief moment and rendered his decision. “God, I do believe I would like to go to Hell.”

“As you desire” said God and Bill was gone! 

Two weeks later, God decided to check up on the late billionaire to see how things were going. He found Bill shackled to a wall, screaming among the hot flames in a dark cave. He was being burned and tortured by demons. 

“How ya doin’, Bill?” asked God. 

Bill responded with anguish and despair. “This is awful! This is not what I expected at all! What happened to the beach and the beautiful women playing in the water?” ” 

OH THAT!” said God…………….”That was the screen saver!” 

Didn’t we all see that one coming?

There were two guys on a motorcycle driving down the road. The driver was wearing a leather jacket that didn’t have a zipper or any buttons.

Finally he stopped the bike and told the other guy, “I can’t drive anymore with the air hitting me in my chest.”

After thinking for a while he decided to put the coat on backwards to block the air from hitting him. So they were driving down the road and they came around this curb and wrecked. The farmer that lived there called the police and told them what happened.

The police asked him, “are either of them showing any life signs?”

The farmer then said, “well, that first one was ’til I turned his head around the right way.”

And that my friends is a complete and total issue!

I’m so glad I was able to do that.  I had a great deal of fun doing this and I feel so much better after doing it.  So, probably next issue will be on Thursday…I hope.  And may God bless you all with Love and Happiness until then.