One Last Political Joke....

[miked10270 0]

Before the elections.....

The Vote for Heaven or Hell

A powerful senator dies after a prolonged illness. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

"Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you."

"No problem, just let me in," says the senator.

"Well, I'd like to but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."

"Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven."

"I'm sorry but we have our rules," replies St. Peter.

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to Hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. Nearby are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is in evening attire and very happy to see him. They run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.

Also present is the Devil, who really is a very friendly guy and who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that the time flies, before he realizes it, the senator has to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves while the elevator rises.

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on Heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.

"Now it's time to visit Heaven."

The next 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

"Well then, you've spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now choose your eternity." The senator reflects for a minute, then answers, "Well, I would never have said it, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in Hell."

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to Hell. Now the doors of the elevator open and he is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags.

The Devil comes over to him and lays his arm on his neck.

"I don't understand," stammers the senator. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a beautiful club and we ate lobster and caviar and danced and had a great time. Now there is only a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable.

The Devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Last time we were campaigning. Since then you voted for us!"

Mike.

Taking the piss out of the FrenchAmericans since before it was fashionable.

Prenait la pisse hors du FrançaisCanadiens méridionaux puisqu'avant lui à la mode.

[livendive 8]

Thinking Problem, A Case Study:

"It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties. Now
and then -- to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to
another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone
-- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking
became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.

That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had
turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that
night at her mother's.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment
don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime
so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and
confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"

One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and
it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you
don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."

This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
confessed, "I've been thinking ..." "I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But honey, surely it's not that serious." "It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much
as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you
keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently. She exploded in
tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the
emotional drama. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I
headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking
lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors... They didn't open.
The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.

As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling glass,
whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking
ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from
the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am
today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we
watch a non-educational video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided
thinking. Since the last meeting. I still have my job, and things are a lot better
at home.

Life just seemed... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped
thinking.

I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.

Today, I registered to vote as a Republican. "

"I AM A PROFESSIONAL EXTREME ATHLETE!"
(drink Mountain Dew)

[Kennedy 0]

"It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties. Now
and then -- to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to
another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.

That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had
turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment
don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"

One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and
it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."

This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
confessed, "I've been thinking ..." "I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"

"But honey, surely it's not that serious." "It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently. She exploded in
tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the
emotional drama. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors... They didn't open.

The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.

As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling glass,
whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking. Since the last meeting. I still have my job, and things are a lot better
at home.

Life just seemed... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.

Today, I registered to vote as a Democrat."

witty subliminal message
Guard your honor, let your reputation fall where it will, and outlast the bastards.
1*

[mr2mk1g 10]

"It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties. Now
and then -- to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to
another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.

That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had
turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment
don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"

One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and
it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."

This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
confessed, "I've been thinking ..." "I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"

"But honey, surely it's not that serious." "It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently. She exploded in
tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the
emotional drama. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors... They didn't open.

The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.

As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling glass,
whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking. Since the last meeting. I still have my job, and things are a lot better
at home.

Life just seemed... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.

Today, something I read on Speakers Corner actually influenced my outlook on something".

[kallend 2,151]

Ooooh, that was clever.

...

The only sure way to survive a canopy collision is not to have one.

[livendive 8]

Quote

Ooooh, that was clever.

Not really, the Thoreau, Kafka, and Nietzsche references make the edit a bit too obvious.

Blues,
Dave

"I AM A PROFESSIONAL EXTREME ATHLETE!"
(drink Mountain Dew)