6th Street

A representative from the Darwin Awards is on line 1.

ha ha ha ....man wtf were you thinking. First thing that went through my mind was once the shock started you wouldn't be able to let go. funny.

ps--good luck on the testicles. I am going to pass reward or not.

oh. got it. funny stuff.

Bevo that was hilarious. I spit all over my computer screen when I read #12

I LOVE MY JOB . . . . . .

If you don't laugh out loud after you read this you are in a coma! 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 on FM
dial 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 wet suit. 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 darn 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 wet suit. 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
instruction s 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." Now whenever
you have a bad day, ask yourself, is this a jellyfish bad day? May you
NEVER have a jellyfish bad day!!!!!

nm

Chili Contest

*Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If
you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of
the third judge is even better!
For those of you who have lived in Texas, you
know how true this is.

The notes are from an inexperienced Eastern Sportswriter
chili taster named Frank, who was
visiting Texas from the East Coast:

Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected
as a judge at a chili cook-off. The Judge #3 called in
sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing
there at the judge's table asking for directions to the
Budweiser truck, when the call came in.

I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans)
that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides,
they told me I could have free beer
during the tasting, so I accepted."

Here are the scorecards from the event:

Chili # 1 (Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili)
Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato.
Amusing kick.
Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very
mild.
Judge # 3 -- (Frank) Holy sh!t, what the h@ll is
this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your
driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames
out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans
are crazy.

Chili # 2 (Arthur's Afterburner Chili)
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight
jalapeno tang.
Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more
peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children.
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste
besides pain. I had to wave off two people who
wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had
to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

Chili # 3 (Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili)
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great
kick. Needs more beans.
Judge # 2 -- A bean less chili, a bit salty,
good use of peppers.
Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium
spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano.
Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer
before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now
my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting
sh!t-faced from all of the beer.

Chili # 4 (Bubba's Black Magic)
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice.
Disappointing.
Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans.
Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much
of a chili.
Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my
tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to
burn out taste buds?

Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with
fresh refills. That healthy gal is starting to look HOT...
just like this nuclear waste I'm eating!
Is chili an aphrodisiac?

Chili # 5 (Linda's Legal Lip Remover)
Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne
peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick.
Very impressive.
Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more
tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a
strong statement.
Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring
off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes.
I farted and four people behind me needed
paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when
I told her that her chili had given me brain damage.
Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer
directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my
lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges
asked me to stop screaming.
Screw those rednecks.

Chili # 6 (Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety)
Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili.
Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of
peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge #3-- I sh!t on myself when I farted and
I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one
seems inclined to stand behind me except
Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought.
Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my
a$$ with a snow cone.

Chili # 7 (Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili)
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much
reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef
literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the
last moment. I should take note that I am worried
about Judge 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as
he is cursing uncontrollably.
Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth,
pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight
in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of
rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which
slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of
lava-like shit to match my shirt. At least during the
autopsy, they'll knowwhat killed me.
I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful.
Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air,
I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili # 8 (Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili)
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice
blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to
declare its existence.
Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced
chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most
of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over
and pulled the chili pot down on top of
himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor
dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?
Hook'em Horns

author unknown

I have a sister that's 2 1/2 years older than me. When I was 14, she had a pajama party where several of her friends slept over at my house one night. She had some really good looking friends.

About 3am, the absolute hottest one of her friends comes into my bedroom.

She says, "Jimmy, take off my bra." So I did.

Then she says, "take off my panties." So I did.

Then she says, "never, ever wear my clothes again." Ooops.

I laugh at that one every time I hear it.

This is very similar to one of the above.

The Gay Cowboy

A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She
was a very good-looking woman, and determined to keep the ranch, but
knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the
newspaper for a ranch hand.
Two men applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk. She
thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided
to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the
house than the drunk.
He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a
lot about ranching. For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was
doing very well. Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired
hand,
"You have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great. You should
go into town and kick up your heels."
The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night. One
o'clock came, however, and he didn't return. Two o'clock, and no hired
hand. He returned around two-thirty, and upon entering the room, he
found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine,
waiting for him.
She quietly called him over to her. "Unbutton my blouse and take it
off," she said. Trembling, he did as she directed. "Now take off my
boots." He did as she asked, ever so slowly.
"Now take off my socks." He removed each gently and placed them neatly
by her boots.
"Now take off my skirt." He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching
her eyes in the fire light. "Now take off my bra." Again, with trembling
hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.
"Now," she said, "take off my panties." By the light of the fire, he
slowly pulled them down and off. Then she looked at him and said, "If
you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired." Then she
thought to herself I should've hired the drunk!