Gift Test

Which gift would you like? To determine your personality, pick the gift you’d
most like to receive….

1. Candy
2. Flowers
3. A sweet poem
4. Sex
5. Dinner/Dancing
6. Waffle iron

1. CANDY

It means that… You are a sweet person who enjoys traditional gifts and
hopefully likes to share. OR… You’re a selfish chocoholic who values a sugar
high over everything, even true love.

2. FLOWERS

it means that… You love the beauty of nature, the scent of flowers and
appreciate this timeless romantic gesture. OR… You get some twisted joy out of
watching vegetation wither and die.

3. A SWEET POEM

It means that… You’re a hopeless romantic, a cultured person who recognizes
the power and beauty of the written word. OR… You’re used to cheap gifts and
like to pass yourself off as a cultured person who recognizes the power and
beauty of the written word.

4. SEX

it means that… You are a passionate soul, a free spirit who is not afraid to
express your sexuality with another consenting adult and feel that the physical
side of love can be meaningful and beautiful. OR… You’re a filthy degenerate
who is no better than a rutting animal living solely for one carnal experience
after another.

5. DINNER/DANCING

it means that… You enjoy the company of that special someone and the
romantic setting of fine cuisine and candlelight. OR… You’re easy to please
and probably willing to sell your body for food and a few quick turns around the
dance floor.

6. WAFFLE IRON

it means that… You’re a practical person who believes in gifts that you can
actually use. OR… You have absolutely no idea of what gift giving is all about
and probably have some sort of deviant sexual fetish involving kitchen
appliances.

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Holey Cow

There was this new preacher in town. Well Farmer Brown came by to talk. In the conversation farmer Brown asked, “Is it true you have a holey cow?”
And the preacher replied,”Why, yes it is.”
“Is it all right if i see this Holey Cow?”
“Yes”
so they walked out to the barn and there stood a cow full of holes.

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Greenhorn In Alaska

A greenhorn visiting Alaska was talking to two old sourdoughs. They informed him he was a cheechako. The greenhorn asked how he could become a sourdough.

The two sourdoughs winked at each other, and told him he had to do three things. First, he had to pee in the Yukon River. Second, he had to wrestle with a grizzly bear. And last, he had to make love to an Athabascan Indian woman.

“No problem,” said the cheechako, and off he went. He hired himself a guide, and soon had dispatched his first duty. Then they found the grizzly bear.

The cheechako chased the bear into a cave. The most awful roaring and screaming emitted from that cave, along with blood and fur.

Finally, the cheechako staggers out of the cave. “Okay,” he said to the guide. “Where’s that Indian woman I’m supposed to wrassle!”

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Notre Dame fight song

(Sung to the Notre Dame fight song)

Stand up and cheer for girls who give head, they’ll bring back your limp
dick right from the dead, they’ve got knee pads on their slits, and plenty
of chapstick for their lips. Some like to cornhole, some like to screw,
but I like the ones who will pump out my gew, spit or swallow I don’t
care, as long as her head is there.

At the end of the month, most girls will agree, it’s time for a little
tonsole hockey, when your big balls slap her chin, you’ll know that you
can’t get much more in.

So stand up and cheer for the girls in the spa, the ones who suck cock,
they know who they are. Later on when we’re pumping gew, we’ll know who
they are too.

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The great rabbit escape!

A rabbit one day managed to break free from the laboratory where he had been born and brought up.As he scurried away from the fencing of the compound, he felt grass under his little feet and saw the dawn breaking for the first time in his life. ‘Wow, this is great,’ he thought.

It wasn’t long before he came to a hedge and, after squeezing under it he saw a wonderful sight lots of other bunny rabbits, all free and nibbling at the lush grass.

“Hey,” he called. “I’m a rabbit from the laboratory and I’ve just escaped. Are you wild rabbits?”
“Yes. Come and join us,” they cried.

Our friend hopped over to them and started eating the grass. I tasted so good. “What else do you wild rabbits do?” he asked.

“Well,” one of them said. “You see that field there? It’s got carrots growing in it. We dig them up and eat them.”

This, he couldn’t resist and he spent the next hour eating the most succulent carrots. They were wonderful.

Later, he asked them again, “What else do you do?”

“You see that field there? It’s got lettuce growing in it. We eat them as well.”

The lettuce tasted just as good and he returned a while later completely full. “Is there anything else you guys do?” he asked.

One of the other rabbits came a bit closer to him and spoke softly.
“There’s one other thing you must try. You see those rabbits there, “he said, pointing to the far corner of the field. “They’re girls. We shag them. Go and try it.”

Well, our friend spent the rest of the morning shagging his little heart out until, completely spent, he staggered back over to the guys.
“That was fantastic,” he panted.

“So are you going to live with us then?” one of them asked.
“I’m sorry, I had a great time but I can’t.”

The wild rabbits all stared at him, a bit surprised. “Why? We thought you liked it here.”

“I do,” our friend replied. “But I must get back to the laboratory. I’m dying for a cigarette!”

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Modem Addiction

“Did you know that last month’s (expletive) phone bill is over $450?” my wife scolded me in her harshest, my-husband-the-child voice. “That’s more than twice the monthly payment you make for that (expletive)computer!” she continued as she escalated to screaming.

“I confess! I confess!” I sobbed. “I’m just an on-line junkie. I’m addicted to my modem! I guess I’ll just have to join Modems Anonymous before I owe my soul to the phone company. “As a counselor for Modems Anonymous, I hear numerous variations of the preceding story every day. That insidious disease, modem fever, is exacting a tragically large toll from the cream of our society’s computer users. Modem-mania is sweeping through the very foundations of our country and there seems to be no stopping it. This disease (yes, it is a social disease of almost epidemic proportions) is becoming a such calamity that soon there’s even going to be a soap opera about on-line addiction named, “All My Modems. “

If you don’t already own one of those evil instruments called a modem, take warning! Don’t even think about buying one. Modem fever sets in very quietly; it sneaks up on you and then grabs you by the wallet, checkbook or, heaven forbid, credit cards.

Once you own a modem, you enter the insidious addictive trap by “dialing up” a friend who also has a modem. For some strange reason, typing messages to each other fascinates you. (Even if it is less than 10%of the speed that you can speak the same words over a normal voice phone link. )Of course, you make several attempts at hooking up before you finally figure out that at least one of you must be in the half-duplex mode; that discovery actually titillates you (sounds impossible, but it’s true).

Then your modem-buddy (friend is too good a term) sows another seed on the road to on-line addiction by giving you the number of a local RBBS (Remote Bulletin Board Service). Once you get an RBBS phone number, you’ve taken the first fatal step in a journey that can only end in on-line addiction.

After you take the next step by dialing up the RBBS your modem-buddy told you about, you find that it’s very easy to “log-on. “This weird form of conversation with an unattended computer is strangely exciting, much more so than just typing messages when you’re on-line with your modem-buddy. The initial bulletins scroll by and inform you about the board, but you’re too “up” to comprehend most of it. Then you read some of the messages in the message section and maybe, in a tentative manner, you enter one or two of your own.

That’s fun, but the excitement starts to wear off; you’re calming down. Thinking that it might be worthwhile to go back and re-read the log-on bulletins, you return to the main RBBS menu.

Then it happens. The RBBS provides the bait that entices you all the way into the fiery hell of modem addiction. As you look at the RBBS main menu to learn how to return to the log-on bulletins, you find an item called FILES. By asking your host computer for FILES, you thread the bait onto the hook of corruption; the FILES SUBMENU sets the hook. You start running with the line when you LIST the files; you leap into the air with the sheer joy of the fight when all those public domain program title sand descriptions scroll by. They’re FREE!!! All you have to do is tell the bulletin board to download (transmit) them to you. You download your first program and you’re landed, in the creel, cleaned and ready for the cooking fires. In just 55 minutes after you logged-onto the board, you’ve downloaded six programs, one of them is Andrew Fleugelman’s PC-Talk, version 3 (truly an instrument for evil).

BBS-LIST. DQC, which is also among the files you downloaded, contains a list of a great number of bulletin boards throughout the country. (There’s evil all around us, constantly tempting us!) You print the list and find about 60 RBBS phone numbers. (Have mercy on our souls!) The list also gives you the hours of operation, communications parameters and informs you about each board’s specialty. You decide to try PC-Talk and use it to dial-up an RBBS about three states away. Since the line is busy, you pass the time entering all those RBBS phone numbers into PC-Talk’s voluminous dialing directory.

You try the number again — still busy. You think, “Hey, there’s one that specializes in Pascal programs. Maybe I’ll try it. It’s about half-way across the country, but it’s after 5pm and the phone rates have changed. It won’t be too expensive.”

The Pascal board answers. After 45 minutes you’ve downloaded another five programs. Then you call another board –only this one’s completely across the country from California, in Florida. And so it goes on into the night . . . and the next night. . . and the next. . . . Some days it gets to you. You begin to feel the dirtiness of modem addiction, particularly when your wife makes you feel like a child by berating you for those astronomical phone bills — if she hasn’t divorced you by then. Every time you sit down before your PC to do some work, you dial up another RBBS instead. If that one’s busy, you call another, and another, until you connect. Then you feel OK, almost “high.” When you finally hang up, you still can’t work; you can only dial up another RBBS.

Your downfall as an on-line addict is just another one of this society’s terrible tragedies, such as polygamy or the compulsion to circle all the numbers on computer magazine “bingo cards.” Eventually your whole social life relies upon only the messages you find on electronic bulletin boards; your only happiness is the programs you have downloaded. (You never try any of them, you only collect them. )Hope exists, however. We, the dedicated but under-paid staff of Modems Anonymous, have done extensive research to find a cure for modem mania, which has been ruining hundreds of lives. And we have succeeded in our quest.

The cure is really quite simple, yet effective: Set up your own remote bulletin board service. Then all the other modem addicts will phone you, and their wives can nag at them about $450 phone bills, and you can find peace — at last.

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