Self-assesment

1 star hangover *
No pain. No real feeling of illness.. Your sleep last night was a mere
disco nap, which is giving you a whole lot of misplaced energy. Be glad
that you are able to function relatively well. However, you are still
parched. You can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel this way. Even
vegetarians are craving a Cheeseburger and fries.

2 star hangover **
Slight headache. Don't feel sick, but something is definitely amiss. You
may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a
stapler. The coffee you chug to try and remain focused is only
exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast.
Last night has wreaked havoc on your bowels and even though you have a nice
demeanour about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money
because all you really can handle is aimlessly surfing the net and writing
junk e-mails.

3 star hangover ***
Definite headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely a space cadet
and so not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume
reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends
after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 a.m. Life would be better right
now if you were in your bed with a dozen donuts and a litre of coke
watching Good Morning with Richard and Judy. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a
gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of diet coke - yet you haven't
peed once.

4 star hangover ****
Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly or else you might
honk. You have lost the will to live. Your boss has already lambasted you
for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore
nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact that you missed an oh-so
crucial spot shaving, (girls, it looks like you put your make-up on while
riding the bumper cars), your teeth have sweaters, your eyes look like one
big vein and your hair style makes you look like a reject from the class
picture of Moss side secondary school circa 1976. You would give a week's
pay for one the following: 1. Home time, 2. A duvet and somewhere to be
alone, or 3. A time machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the
night before.

5 star hangover (aka Dante's 4th Circle of Hell) ***** You have a second
heartbeat in your head, which is actually scaring the employee who sits
next to you. Death seems pretty good right now. You can't focus as your
eyes are scrunched up against the overpowering glare from your computer
screen Rancid vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore, staining your
shirt and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners
of your mouth, at least you think it's toothpaste crust. You don't give a
damn either way. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva and
your tongue is suffocating you. You'd cry but that would take the last of
the moisture left in your body. Talking is not an option. Your boss
doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just
died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because
all you can manage to do is breathe....very gently.

Little Johnny was sitting in the courtyard turning a bottle of
liquid back and forth, watching the bubbles.
The Priest walked up and asked him what he was doing?
Little Johnny replied, "I'm looking at the most powerful liquid in the world."
The Priest said, "But Johnny, Holy Water is the most powerful liquid in the world.
Did you know that if you put Holy Water on a pregnant woman's belly, she will pass a boy!"
Little Johnny said, "Big deal! This is turpentine. If you put this
on a cat's ass, he'll pass a Harley Davidson!" was sitting in the courtyard turning a bottle of
liquid back and forth, watching the bubbles.
The Priest walked up and asked him what he was doing?
Little Johnny replied, "I'm looking at the most powerful liquid in the world."
The Priest said, "But Johnny, Holy Water is the most powerful liquid in the world.
Did you know that if you put Holy Water on a pregnant woman's belly, she will pass a boy!"
Little Johnny said, "Big deal! This is turpentine. If you put this
on a cat's ass, he'll pass a Harley Davidson!"

Coucil Tenants...

In the following (allegedly) authentic complaints received by local Councils from their tenants,
there are several points which might be misconstrued and seen as a source of amusement by those of low intellect
and immature sense of humour.
For the rest of us, this will serve as a morally improving example
of the crude innuendo enjoyed by the masses:

I want some repairs done to my cooker as it has backfired and burnt my knob off.

- I wish to complain that my father hurt his ankle very badly when he put his foot in the hole in his back passage.

- Their 18-year-old son is continuously banging his balls against my fence. Not only is this making a hell of a noise,
but the fence is now sagging in the middle.

- This is to let you know there is a smell coming from the man next door.

- I am writing on behalf of my sink, which is running away from the wall.

- I wish to report that tiles are missing from the roof of the outside toilet
and I think it was bad wind the other night that blew them off.

- I request your permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen.

- The toilet is blocked and we cannot bath the children until it is cleared.

- Will you please send a man to look at my water, it is a funny colour and not fit to drink.

- Would you please send a man to repair my spout, I am an old-age pensioner and need it straight away.

- I want to complain about the farmer across the road; every morning at 5.30 his cock wakes me up and it's getting too much.
It's all right when my husband is on day-shift,
but when he's on back-shifts or nights I get it several times a week from Mr Docherty next door and at my age it's too much.

- The man next door has a large erection in the back garden, which is unsightly and dangerous.

- Our kitchen floor is very damp, we have two children and would like a third,
so will you please send someone to do something about it.

- The toilet seat is cracked where do I stand?

- I am a single woman living in a downstairs flat and would be pleased if you could do something
about the noise made by the man I have on top of me every night.

- Please send a man with clean tools to finish the job and satisfy the wife.

- Can you send a carpenter to the house. When the woman next door closed the door the other night,
she pulled at my knob too hard and now it's ready to fall off.

- I have had the Clerk of the Works down on the floor six times, but still have no satisfaction.

Bert & Ernie...

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing...

Here's what happened: Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?"

I put my best hamster-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called," come look at the hamster!"

Oh, my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."

"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.

"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage,?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, ya know," she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya think?) By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."

"OH, Gross!", they shrieked. "Well, isn't THAT just Great!; what are we going to do with a litter of tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too. don't you?)

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.

"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified. "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.

"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged. "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

"What do you think, Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically.

"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr and Mrs Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?" I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.

"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy." "What!?"

After they reach maturity, like most male species, they um... er... masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife.

"Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr.. Cameron." We were silent, absorbing this.

"So Ernie's just... just... Excited?" my wife offered.

"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly. "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness. Tears were now running down her face. "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on it’s... Its... teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

"That's enough," I warned.

We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.

"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

2 Hamsters = $10
1 Cage = $20
Trip to the Vet = $30
Pictures of your hubby pulling on the hamster's cock = PRICELESS!!

A brunette, redhead and blonde were at a special magic Amusement Park.
One of the rides was a long slide at the end of which was a magic pool.
On the way down the slide, all the rider had to do was shout out his or her favourite drink, and hey-presto they would land in a pool full of this drink.

So off they went.
The brunette went first.
On her way down she shouted out "Vodka" at the top of her voice, and sure enough she landed in a pool of the finest vodka.
After filling several bottles and glasses she went home, happy but a little un-steady.

Next the redhead - who loved a 10 year old malt, went flying down shouting "Whisky", and of course into a pool of whisky she fell.
She had to be dragged away practically xxxxxxxxxxx.

Now it was the blondes turn.
She was very excited, and on her way down he was enjoying the ride so much she shouted - "Weeeeeee"

The Work Poo...

How to Poop at Work We've all been there but don't like to admit it. We've all kicked back in our cubicles and suddenly felt something brew down below. As much as we try to convince ourselves otherwise, the WORK POOP is inevitable. For those who hate pooping at work, following is the 2013 Survival Guide for taking a dump at work. Memorize these definitions and pooping at work will become a pure pleasure.

ESCAPEE
Definition: a fart that slips out while taking a leak at the urinal or forcing a poop in a stall. This is usually accompanied by a sudden wave of panic embarrassment. This is similar to the hot flash you receive when passing an unseen police car and speeding. If you release an escapee, do not acknowledge it. Pretend it did not happen. If you are standing next to the farter in the urinal, pretend you did not hear it. No one likes an escapee; it is uncomfortable for all involved. Making ajoke or laughing makes both parties feel uneasy.

JAILBREAK (Used in conjunction with ESCAPEE)
Definition: When forcing poop, several farts slip out at a machine gun pace. This is usually a side effect of diarrhoea or a hangover. If this should happen, do not panic. Remain in the stall until everyone has left the bathroom so to spare everyone the awkwardness of what just occurred.

COURTESY FLUSH
Definition: The act of flushing the toilet the instant the nose cone of the poop log hits the water and the poop is whisked away to an undisclosed location. This reduces the amount of air time the poop has to stink up the bathroom. This can help you avoid being caught doing the WALK OF SHAME.

WALK OF SHAME
Definition: Walking from the stall, to the sink, to the door after you have just stunk up the bathroom. This can be a very uncomfortable moment if someone walks in and busts you. As with all farts, it is best to pretend that the smell does not exist. Can be avoided with the use of the COURTESY FLUSH.

OUT OF THE CLOSET POOPER
Definition: A colleague who poops at work and damn proud of it. You will often see an Out Of The Closet Pooper enter the bathroom with a newspaper or magazine under their arm. Always look around the office for the Out Of The Closet Pooper before entering the bathroom.

THE POOPING FRIENDS NETWORK (PFN)
Definition: A group of co-workers who band together to ensure emergency pooping goes off without incident. This group can help you to monitor the whereabouts of Out Of The Closet Poopers, and identify SAFE HAVENS.

SAFE HAVENS
Definition: A seldom used bathroom somewhere in the building where you can least expect visitors. Try floors that are predominantly of the opposite sex. This will reduce the odds of a pooper of your sex entering the bathroom.

TURD BURGLAR
Definition: A pooper who does not realize that you are in the stall and tries to force the door open. This is one of the most shocking and vulnerable moments that can occur when taking a dump at work. If this occurs, remain in the stall until the Turd Burglar leaves. This way you will avoid all uncomfortable eye contact.

CAMO-COUGH
Definition: A phony cough that alerts all new entrants into the bathroom that you are in a stall. This can be used to cover-up a WATERMELON, or to alert potential Turd Burglars. Very effective when used in conjunction with an ASTAIRE.

ASTAIRE
Definition: A subtle toe-tap that is used to alert potential Turd Burglars that you are occupying a stall. This will remove all doubt that the stall is occupied. If you hear an Astaire, leave the bathroom immediately so the pooper can poop in peace.

WATERMELON
Definition: A turd that creates a loud splash when hitting the toilet water. This is also an embarrassing incident. If you feel a Watermelon coming on, create a diversion. See next.

CAMO-COUGH. HAVANA OMELET
Definition: A load of diarrhoea that creates a series of loud splashes in the toilet water. Often accompanied by an Escapee. Try using a Camo-Cough with an Astaire.

UNCLE TED
Definition: A bathroom user who seems to linger around forever. Could spend extended lengths of time in front of the mirror or sitting on the pot. An Uncle Ted makes it difficult to relax while on the crapper, as you should always wait to drop your load when the bathroom is empty. This benefits you as well as the other bathroom attendees.

FLY BY
Definition: The act of scouting out a bathroom before pooping. Walk in and check for other poopers. If there are others in the bathroom, leave and come back again. Be careful not to become a FREQUENT FLYER. People may become suspicious if they catch you constantly going into the bathroom.

Two Glaswegians, Erchie and Jimmy, are sitting in the pub discussing Jimmy's forthcoming wedding.....

'Och, it's all goin' pure brilliant,' says Jimmy. 'A've got everythin'organised awready, the fluers, the church, the caurs, the reception, the rings, the meenister. Even ma stag night'.

Erchie nods approvingly.

'I've even bought a kilt to be married in!' continues Jimmy.

'A kilt?' exclaims Erchie, 'that's braw, you'll look pure smairt in
that'!

'An' whit's the tartan?' Erchie then enquires.

'Och,' says Jimmy, 'A'd imagine she'll be in white!'