Jokes

[Azolero]

well hello again.
since I have nuffin' better to do,I'll make a jokes topic!
post any joke!
any lame level!any flavour will do!

Here's mine:
an American,an Israeli and an Arab were flying on a plane.
the American throws out bottles.
"we have lot's o' those in our country"
The Arab throws out bombs
"we have lot's o' those in our country"
the Israeli throws out the Arab
"we have lot's o' those in our country"

[Eth]

(Throws Azolero out of the forum.)  

[Sage]

Question: What do you call someone who speaks two languages?
Answer: Bilingual.

Question: What do you call someone who speaks three languages?
Answer: Trilingual.

Question: What do you call someone who speaks one language?
Answer: American.

[Lazy]

Change the bottles to McDonalds and you get a funny joke.

[Guesst]

Okay, I've got 2.

Two fish are in a fish bowl and the one says to the other, "Hey, how do you drive this thing?" and the other looks all astonished and says, "Holy Crap! A talking fish!"

Okay, and here's another that I found on the web ages ago. It's not mine, so I'll italisize it:

THEY'RE MADE OUT OF MEAT
by Terry Bisson


"They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"Meat. They're made out of meat."

"Meat?"

"There's no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They're completely meat."

"That's impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"

"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don't come from them. The signals come from machines."

"So who made the machines? That's who we want to contact."

"They made the machines. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."

"That's ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You're asking me to believe in sentient meat."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they're made out of meat."

"Maybe they're like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."

"Nope. They're born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn't take long. Do you have any idea what's the life span of meat?"

"Spare me. Okay, maybe they're only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."

"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They're meat all the way through."

"No brain?"

"Oh, there's a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat! That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"So ... what does the thinking?"

"You're not understanding, are you? You're refusing to deal with what I'm telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."

"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"

"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal!  Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"

"Omigod. You're serious then. They're made out of meat."

"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they've been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."

"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"

"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."

"We're supposed to talk to meat."

"That's the idea. That's the message they're sending out by radio. 'Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.' That sort of thing."

"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"

"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."

"I thought you just told me they used radio."

"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."

"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Both."

"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"

"I agree one hundred percent. What's there to say? 'Hello, meat. How's it going?' But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"

"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can't live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."

"So we just pretend there's no one home in the Universe."

"That's it."

"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You're sure they won't remember?"

"They'll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we're just a dream to them."

"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat's dream."

"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."

"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"

"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."

"They always come around."

"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone ..."


the end


>(From OMNI, April 1991. This story, which was a 1991 Nebula nominee, has been appearing around the internet lately without my name attached. Several people were kind enough to alert me, but the truth is I'm more flattered than offended. )

www.terrybisson.com

[Eth]

Okay, those last two were actually quite amusing.  

[Rider]

that last one got me thinking though... what if there ARE aliens out there, but they don't feel like contacting us? That would suck!

[Guesst]

that last one got me thinking though... what if there ARE aliens out there, but they don't feel like contacting us? That would suck!

And that is the joke, really.

[UncleNecro]

And its one damn funny one too

[Sedodes]

Feh, I remember reading that in '91.  It's a shame OMNI was overall such a crappy magazine.  Good ideas such as this got burried.

I still don't think the article it was written well, however... waaaay too long, I got the idea 1/4 of the way through.

[FalconMWC]

Well this one is OK, but I will give it a shot:

A man inherited a parrot from his parents when they died. Soon the man found out that the parrot could talk, and talk it did. In fact not only could it talk, but it could swear - and it REALLY swore after a little while. Anyway the man finally got tired and irrated of the parrot swearing at him and everything/else around. So he gave the parrot a warning. The parrot replied with swearing at the man so the man punished him with a spray bottle. (most birds hate that) That just got the parrot really mad and it swore even more. So finally the man is about ready to chop the parrot's head off when out of desperation he sticks the parrot in the freezer. He leaves the parrot in for about long enough for the parrot to get pretty cold. Then when he took the bird out the parrot asked him. "So what did the chicken do?"  

EDIT: Grammar Mistakes

[Sedodes]

"I'm too picky, man," I said.  "I can't seem to meet anyone who connects with me."
     "Look.  Girlfriends are like HEPA filters," he asserted.
     I looked up from my beer and chuckled, maybe rolled my eyes.  Carl's always got some crazy analogy he's trying to stretch, though I listen because somehow they all make sense.
     "I'm serious."
     "Okay, okay.  How so?"
     "Take your standard one-one-thousandth micron HEPA filter that you stick in the wall."
     "Okay."
     "You circulate the air but damnit, the place still reeks of fucking dogs.  Why is that?"
     I shrugged.
     "No, come on, why is that?"
     "I don't know."
     "It's because the size of the dog smell molecules are bigger than one-one-thousandth of a micron, so they can't get through."  He made an "O" with an index finger and a thumb to illustrate.
     "Alright."
     "Now, take your deluxe multi-layer HEPA filters."
     "Uh-huh."
     "That has the five-micron filter, your notable two-point-four-micron filter, then beyond that the one-micron filter."
     "Mmm."
     "Then finally, in the middle of all that, in the centrifuge where everything comes down to, at the end of it all, you have the one-one-thousandth micron filter."  He drew a centrifuge in the air and squinted.
     "Okay?"
     "This way you catch all the various particles and molecules, of different sizes, and finally you are able to rid the room of that dog stench."
     "Right.  And this is related because—"
     "Because finding a girlfriend is like the HEPA filter with the multiple layers.  You have to broaden your scope enough to include everyone who may interest you, despite whatever flaws they may have at first glance, and you filter that down until eventually you find the right person.  If you only use the one-one-thousandth micron filter, it'll never work."
     "Ahhh," I responded, and wondered if I should be replacing the HEPA filter on my vacuum cleaner.  The thing doesn't even have a centrifuge, I think.

from "In Exchange" by John Wang, Juked.com

[Tou-Foo-Rol]

Ah, that's cute...

[NECRO-99]

Sage, I must get the comedy police on your case. The monolingual joke is originally from a Star Wars book, and the answer is "Human", not American.
Thief!

/busted

[Sedodes]

I think it's better as Sage has it.  Sorry.  [not busted]