It looks like I've already been knocked off someone's Christmas card list for 2006. A new comment on a blog post from six months ago...
i do believe that you are the rudest person that i have ever read artiles by.to slate obese people like that is so rude and unfair. im actually insulted by the fact that you think that you have the right to be so rude and insulting. next time before you take judgement on people who are not "perfect" take a look in the mirror and ask yourself if u r perfect.
personally i think u are an absoloute asshole and i would rather eat my own vomit for a month than spend more than a minute with you.
have a nice life
Her email address is email@example.com.
A girl went out on a date with a trumpet player, and when she came back her roommate asked, "Well, how was it? Did his embouchure make him a great kisser?"
"Nah," the first girl replied. "That dry, tight, tiny little pucker; it was no fun at all."
The next night she went out with a tuba player, and when she came back her roommate asked, "Well, how was his kissing?"
"Ugh!" the first girl exclaimed. "Those huge, rubbery, blubbery, slobbering slabs of meat; oh, it was just gross!"
The next night she went out with a French horn player, and when she came back her roommate asked, "Well, how was his kissing?"
"Well," the first girl replied, "his kissing was just so-so; but I loved the way he held me!"
What do you see if you look up a soprano's skirt?
What happens if you play blues music backwards?
Your wife returns to you, your dog comes back to life, and you get out of prison.
But my favourite:
From: EFFICIENCY & TICKET, LTD., Management Consultants
To: Chairman, The London Symphony Orchestra
Re: Schubert's Symphony No. 8 in B minor.
After attending a rehearsal of this work we make the following observations and recommendations:
We note that the twelve first violins were playing identical notes, as were the second violins. Three violins in each section, suitably amplified, would seem to us to be adequate.
Much unnecessary labour is involved in the number of demisemiquavers in this work; we suggest that many of these could be rounded up to the nearest semiquaver thus saving practice time for the individual player and rehearsal time for the entire ensemble. The simplification would also permit more use of trainee and less-skilled players with only marginal loss of precision.
We could find no productivity value in string passages being repeated by the horns; all tutti repeats could also be eliminated without any reduction of efficiency.
In so labour-intensive an undertaking as a symphony, we regard the long oboe tacet passages to be extremely wasteful. What notes this instrument is called upon to play could, subject to a satisfactory demarcation conference with the Musician's Union, be shared out equitably amongst the other instruments.
Conclusion: if the above recommendations are implemented the piece under condsideration could be played through in less than half an hour with concomitant savings in overtime, lighting and heating, wear and tear on the instruments and hall rental fees. Also, had the composer been aware of modern cost-effective procedures he might well have finished this work.
Just in case you don't peruse the comments, I thought I would draw your attention to something I discovered on the notice board for Friends Reunited from my old school. This was posted by someone who left 10 years after me:
Then of course there was the day that Miss Clarkson's world fell apart-yes baby Jesus was kidknapped from the manger and held for ransom. That was it, security was tightened and 6th formers were left guarding Mary n Joseph as staff feared for their safety. Jesus was later found in a yr 11s classroom above a roof tile. I havent any idea how he got there (!)but I do know who told the teachers where he was, but im not sayin (n no it wasnt me!)
Anyone who knows me will know that I simply can't tell jokes. What, of course, is embarrassing is that I insist on persisting, and when people groan, or look embarrassed, or realise that they have a cuticle that urgently needs picking, I just self-deprecate "I can't tell jokes".
It worried for me ages, it seems such a girlie thing for someone for whom the term 'ladette' may have been invented (although I'm not quite sure what one calls an ageing ladette).
One of the great revelations of being elected to Lambeth Council almost ten years ago wasn't the confirmation of my oratorical skills, or my strategic thinking, or my ability to analyse a budget or a problem, or my political instinct, or my natural empathy with vast swathes of the electorate, or my popularity (born from courtesy) with officers.
No, my greatest ability is my spontaneous humour. It's a really special feeling when something just falls out of my head without any effort, and it makes me laugh, and more importantly, it makes my interlocutor laugh. Like yesterday, Sandra was moaning about DWP withdrawing from our strike, saying that if it's supposed to be a strike about solidarity between the workers across Departments, they should support us. I quickly pointed out that with delegated pay bargaining, we are only legally allowed to be in dispute with our own department, , otherwise it would be secondary action, and then we would all become Flying Pickets, and that would be awful, because we'd all have to sing a capella.
See, it was frigging hilarious when it tumbled spontaneously out of my over-active brain. But I can I recount in a way that's funny. Can I heck?
Maybe it was my tone of voice. I'm quite good at tone of voice. And facial expression. Maybe I should have been an actress. Damn it, I should have been an actress. But I have no recollection of ever having an opportunity to act way back in my dim and distant past. Or wanting to.
A Russian couple were walking down the street in Moscow one night, when the man felt a drop hit his nose.
"I think it's raining", he said to his wife.
"No, that felt more like snow to me", she replied.
"No, I'm sure it was just rain" he said.
Well, as these things go, they were about to have a major argument about whether it was raining or snowing. Just then they saw a Communist Party official walking toward them.
"Let's not fight about it", the man said, "Let's ask Comrade Rudolph whether it's officially raining or snowing". As the official approached, the man said, "Tell us, Comrade Rudolph, is it officially raining or snowing?"
"It's raining, of course", he replied, and walked on.
But the woman insisted: "I know that felt like snow!", to which the man quietly replied:
A MAJOR EARTHQUAKE MEASURING 3 ON THE RICHTER SCALE, HIT ON MONDAY 21 OCTOBER 2002. IT EPICENTERED ON MILES PLATTING, MANCHESTER
Victims can be seen wandering aimlessly muttering : "Sorted",'Top' and 'ArrKid' The Earthquake decimated the area, causing approximately £0 worth of damage. Several priceless collections of mementos from the Balearics and Spanish Costas were damaged. Three areas of historic and scientifically significant litter were disturbed.
Many were woken well before their giro arrived.
Thousands are confused and bewildered, trying to come to terms with the fact that something interesting has happened in Manchester.
One resident, Donna-Marie Dutton, a 17 year old mother-of-three said "It was such a shock, little Chantal-Leanne came running into my bedroom crying. My youngest two, Tyler-Morgan and Megan-Storm slept through it. I was still shaking when I was watching Trisha this morning."
Apparently though, looting did carry on as normal.
The British Red Cross have so far managed to ship 4000 crates of Sunny Delight to the area to help the stricken masses. Rescue workers are still searching through the rubble and have found large quantities of personal belongings including benefit books and jewellery from Elizabeth Duke at Argos.
* HOW YOU CAN HELP
This appeal is to raise clothing and food parcels for those unfortunate enough to be caught up in it.
Food parcels may be harder to put together but necessary all the same.
Required foodstuffs include: -
Tripe and Onions
"Pigs Blood Pud"
£2 buys chips, scraps and blue pop for a family of four
£10 can take a family to Salford for the day, where children can play on an unspoiled canal bank among the national collection of stinging nettles
22p buys a biro for filling in a spurious compensation claim
Please do not send tents for shelter, as the sight of posh housing is unfair on the population of neighbouring areas of Newton Heath and Moss Side.