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Jokes and funny bits. Time for a laugh.
- Thread starter spidy
- Start date
A bad day at work.
When you are feeling down about your job.....
This is even funnier when you realize it's real!
Next time you have a bad day at work, think of this
guy.
Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers
in Louisiana. He performs underwater repairs on
offshore drilling rigs. Below is an E-mail he sent to
his sister.
She then sent it to radio station 103.2 FM in Ft.
Wayne, Indiana, who was sponsoring a worst job
experience contest. Needless to say, she won.
Hi Sue,
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.
Last week I Had a bad day at the office. I know you've
been feeling down lately at work, So I thought I would
share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's Not
so bad after all.
Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first
must bore you with a few technicalities of my job. As
you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I
wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit.
This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we
do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered
industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of
equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it
to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to
the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the
air hose.
Now this sounds like a pretty good plan, and I've used
it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I
get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose
and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods
my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a
Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my
butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it.
This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my
butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my
back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized
what had happened.
The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and
pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any
hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it.
However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate.
When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was
actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my
butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma
over the communicator. His instructions were unclear
due to the fact that he, along with five other divers,
were all laughing hysterically.
Needless to say I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water
decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes
before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber
dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I
was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.
As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears
of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of
cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I
got in the chamber.
The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for
two days because my butt was swollen shut.
So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think
about how much worse it would be if you had a
jellyfish shoved up your butt. Now repeat to yourself,
"I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."
When you are feeling down about your job.....
This is even funnier when you realize it's real!
Next time you have a bad day at work, think of this
guy.
Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers
in Louisiana. He performs underwater repairs on
offshore drilling rigs. Below is an E-mail he sent to
his sister.
She then sent it to radio station 103.2 FM in Ft.
Wayne, Indiana, who was sponsoring a worst job
experience contest. Needless to say, she won.
Hi Sue,
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.
Last week I Had a bad day at the office. I know you've
been feeling down lately at work, So I thought I would
share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's Not
so bad after all.
Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first
must bore you with a few technicalities of my job. As
you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I
wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit.
This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we
do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered
industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of
equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it
to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to
the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the
air hose.
Now this sounds like a pretty good plan, and I've used
it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I
get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose
and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods
my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a
Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my
butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it.
This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my
butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my
back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized
what had happened.
The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and
pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any
hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it.
However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate.
When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was
actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my
butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma
over the communicator. His instructions were unclear
due to the fact that he, along with five other divers,
were all laughing hysterically.
Needless to say I aborted the dive.
I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water
decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes
before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber
dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I
was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.
As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears
of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of
cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I
got in the chamber.
The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for
two days because my butt was swollen shut.
So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think
about how much worse it would be if you had a
jellyfish shoved up your butt. Now repeat to yourself,
"I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."
Ireland Declares War on France!
Jacques Chirac, The French President, is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.
"Hallo, Mr. Chirac!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Clare, Ireland. I am ringin' to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Chirac replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is myself, me Cousin Sean, me next door neighbor Seamus, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Chirac paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100,000 men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy calls again.
"Mr. Chirac, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" Chirac asks.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Chirac sighs, amused; "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I have increased my army to 150,000 since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day.
"Mr. Chirac, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar have joined us as well!"
Chirac was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100 bombers and 200 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last! spoke, I have increased my army to 200,000!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" says Paddy, "I will have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day.
"Top o' the mornin', Mr. Chirac. I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."
"Really? I am sorry to hear that," says Chirac. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," says Paddy, "we had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and decided there is no way we can feed 200,000 French prisoners."
Jacques Chirac, The French President, is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.
"Hallo, Mr. Chirac!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Clare, Ireland. I am ringin' to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Chirac replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is myself, me Cousin Sean, me next door neighbor Seamus, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Chirac paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100,000 men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy calls again.
"Mr. Chirac, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be, Paddy?" Chirac asks.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Chirac sighs, amused; "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 6,000 tanks and 5,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I have increased my army to 150,000 since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day.
"Mr. Chirac, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar have joined us as well!"
Chirac was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 100 bombers and 200 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last! spoke, I have increased my army to 200,000!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" says Paddy, "I will have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day.
"Top o' the mornin', Mr. Chirac. I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."
"Really? I am sorry to hear that," says Chirac. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," says Paddy, "we had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and decided there is no way we can feed 200,000 French prisoners."
A little humour to add to your day.
Moral of the Story
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Have your parents tell you a story with a moral at the end. The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.
'Johnny, do you have a story to share?'
'Yes ma'am. My daddy told a story about my Aunt Mary. She was a pilot In Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy Territory and all she had was a small flask of whiskey, a pistol and a Survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn't Break and then her parachute landed right in the middle of twenty enemy Troops.
She shot fifteen of them with the gun until she ran out of bullets, Killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she Killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands.'
'Good Heavens' said the horrified teacher. 'What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from this horrible story?'
'Stay the frig away from Aunt Mary when she's drinking.'
Moral of the Story
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: Have your parents tell you a story with a moral at the end. The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.
'Johnny, do you have a story to share?'
'Yes ma'am. My daddy told a story about my Aunt Mary. She was a pilot In Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy Territory and all she had was a small flask of whiskey, a pistol and a Survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn't Break and then her parachute landed right in the middle of twenty enemy Troops.
She shot fifteen of them with the gun until she ran out of bullets, Killed four more with the knife, till the blade broke, and then she Killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands.'
'Good Heavens' said the horrified teacher. 'What kind of moral did your daddy tell you from this horrible story?'
'Stay the frig away from Aunt Mary when she's drinking.'
A businessman in the first class cabin decided to chat up the drop dead,
gorgeous flight attendant: “What is your name?”
Flight Attendant: “Angela Benz, sir”
Businessman: “Lovely name . . . Any relation to Mercedes Benz?”
Flight Attendant: “Yes sir, very close”
Businessman: “How close?”
Flight Attendant: “Same price".
