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I'm ready for more jokes.

A long-married couple took the wife's mother on a Holy Land tour to help her fulfill her bucket list.

While in the Holy Land, the Mother-in-law suffered a heart attack and passed.

While making arrangements the Funeral Director presented options to the Husband -
"We can bury your Mother-in-Law here for $150 or we can air freight her back to the USA for $5,000."

The husband considered the options and then told the Funeral Director to go ahead and ship her home.

The Funeral Director questioned the husband's decision.

The husband explained, "Two Thousand years ago you buried a guy over here and three days later he rose again, I just can't take that chance!"
 
I hate people who use the wrong word and then refuse to be connected.
They need to accept their mistake with humidity.
 
After every flight, pilots fill out a form, called a "gripe sheet" which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems, document their repairs on the form, then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.
Never let it be said that ground crews lack a sense of humor. Here are actual maintenance complaints submittd by pilots ("P") and solutions recorded ("S") by maintenance engineers:
P: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
S: Almost replaced left inside main tire.
P: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
S: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
P: Something loose in cockpit
S: Something tightened in cockpit
P: Dead bugs on windshield.
S: Live bugs on back-order.
P: Autopilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent
S: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
P: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
S: Evidence removed.
P: DME volume unbelievably loud.
S: DME volume set to more believable level.
P: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
S: That's what friction locks are for.
P: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.
S: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
P: Suspected crack in windshield.
S: Suspect you're right.
P: Number 3 engine missing.
S: Engine found on right wing after brief search.
P: Aircraft handles funny.
S: Aircraft warned to: straighten up, fly right, and be serious.
P: Target radar hums.
S: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
P: Mouse in cockpit.
S: Cat installed.
P: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget poundng on something with a hammer.
S: Took hammer away from midget
 
:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:£¥
 

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"We have the standard 6 ft. Fence in the backyard, and a few months Ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire City. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric Fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence.
Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made For 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. Long ground rod, and Drove it 7.5 feet into the grund. The ground rod is the key, with The more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.
One day I'm mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big Wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the Yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the Mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of The way.
It seems as though I hadn't remembered to unplug it after all.
Now I'm standing there, I've got the running lawnmower in my right Hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in Mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a Picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.
Time stood still.
The first thing I notice is my pecker trying to climb up the front Side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the Lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time That Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my Head. I was literally one with the engine.
It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of **** lawnmower Were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.
Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg To differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels Emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and You're all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 Times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality It was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.
At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding Onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can't let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric Fences ... But Dad always had those piece of **** chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled.
This one I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now Accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river Bottom soil. At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just Man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.
'Damn!,' I think, as I remember I just filled the tank!
Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a Loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam In it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest I think 'Oh God please die ... Pleeeeaze die'. But nooooo, it settles into The rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore Roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's Right foot.
So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, Standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not Take me that day ... He left me there covered in my own fluids to Writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.
I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire ...
I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside Me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned.
There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and Then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I Was on the ground still holdng on to it. I assume I finally had a Seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.
Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:
1 - Three of my teeth seem to have melted.
2 - I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).
3 - Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
4 - My left eye will not open.
5 - My right eye will not close.
6 - The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little sesion cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
7 - My nuts are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long.
8 - I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don't understand this???).
That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things.
I don't care what type of humor you like this is funny
I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.
The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.
Credit Goes To The Respective Owner ~
 
That guy never had serious food poisoning... :poop:
I had a similar, but much lower-voltage, experience while waiting in the hang-gliding line above Interlaken:
There was a wire fence around the take-off area to keep the local cows away, and the "line manager" called out, "Would the last person please close the close and latch the gate when you're through?"
So.... I got zapped as I connected the latch to the eyehook on the gate. ⚡
 
Heard versions of BigJohnsHD before.

This is a true story.

We dealt with a number of apprentice know-it all through the beginning of my career.

We used a lot of big bore gassers on the pipe liners as they were the easiest to start at -40C.

Our shop was a very acceptable Quonset with heat and concrete flours.

We had one hot shot and we needed to keep the gassers running which meant a ton of routine work.

We would get slow, and bored.

A couple of us decided to teach the hot shot a lesson.

I will tell you he wasn't the swiftest brick in the flock but he was very tough.

We ran a wire from one of the spark-plug wires to his tool box.

While we were pretending to trouble shoot that one pipe liner. We put a guy into the cab of the machine while it was running.

Young gun was on another job but needed tools from his box.

Every time he went to grab a tool from his box, Jim would throttle up his engine.

First time young gun went to his box, I swear the blue spark was 1' long.

He backed off, tried again, full fist on his box and it looked like he was doing an Irish Jig.

He did it three times before he saw 6 of us laughing so hard we had snot running from our noses.
 
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