Daily Dose - 010416 - camping, Real Resignation Letters, lion tamer, lottery, DDL, Hey Martha

An old man and his wife go camping for the first time...

there they are, sitting by the cracking fire, and the woman says to her husband, "I think I shall go take off my bra since no one is around."

The husband says, "Why sure honey, go right ahead."

So the old woman disappears into the tent, returning a few moments later she poses in front of the fire... "How do I look?"

"Wonderful!" says he... "took all the wrinkles out of your face!"

_________________________

Real Resignation Letters....

The Resignation Letter of Mr. CP of Oslo, Norway

Why did you resign? Surgical Resolution of Body Dysmorphic Disorder
What are you going to do next? Just chill
Job Title Ex-Whaler
Industry Leisure
What is your salary expectation? Below £15,000

Dear Mr Strangewave,

I type with some difficulty, having recently had all of my limbs removed. Do not concern yourself about my well-being, I can assure you I have been involved in no traumatic incident or spontaneous dismembering. Oh no, this has been my choice. For as long as I can recall, and most acutely throughout my adult life, I have hidden a secret longing to be free of limbs.

We've never really clicked, my arms and I. My legs have always got on top of me. Someone had to go and we all agreed it was me. The doctors have a name for my curious discomfort, body dysmorphic syndrome. Look it up. I can tell you, it is as though a weight has lifted from my shoulders and, of course, also from my hips. I am comfortable in my skin for the first time in my life. I am that rarest of breeds, the happy amputee. I wear a smile on every stump. Be pleased for me.

Of course, my career as a whaler is finished. It is with some regret that I give you a month's notice. I will miss the sting of the sea spray as we split the waves. Alas, no more, the deathly clatter of barnacle on barnacle as one of my cetacean prey turns around inside its own blubbery hide. No more whittling of whalebone into elegant filligrees as you play a shanty. The grievous cleaving as harpoon slices fin, t'is only a memory now. I hope we can remain good friends. Bring straws.

***************

The Resignation Letter of Mr. CP of London, United Kingdom

Why did you resign? Illicit dung conjuring
What are you going to do next? Witness Protection Programme
Job Title Assistant Door-Opener and Runner
Industry Administration
What is your salary expectation? £30,000 - £40,000

Dear Cherie,

I fear a terrible truth is about to out, but I'd rather you heard it from me first. I am the

Phantom Logger of Goods In. It is time to build a new life, a whole new identity for myself,

perhaps in a light industrial town in the East Midlands. My days as a stealth shite-r are

over.

It only remains for me to apologise for the hitherto unexplained outbreak of cable-laying,

dumping, dirt-birthing and fouling that has beset this office. The steaming deposits that

have pockmarked the department are all my doings. There'll be no need to call in the

Environmental Health people. Let me assure you that this was no dirty protest nor the work

of some species of dung-conjuring poltergeist.

My behaviour is an honest and all-too-human expression of my most inner self, but I concede

it is difficult for many people to understand.

To many, I'm just a dirty bastard and it is with these sentiments in mind that I must take

my leave.

One last thing, I am definitely NOT responsible for those curious stains on the curtains.

_____________________________

Two unemployed guys are talking. One says, "I'm going to become a lion tamer."

The other replies, "That's crazy, you don't know nothing about no lion taming."

"Yes I do!"

"Well, OK, answer me this. When one of those lions comes at you all roaring and biting, what you gonna do?"

"Well, then I take that big chair they all carry, and I'll stick it in his face until he backs down."

"Well, what if the lion takes that big paw, and hooks the chair with them big claws, and throws that chair out of the cage? What do you do then?"

"Well, then I takes that whip they all carry, and I'll whip him and whip him until he backs down."

"Well, what if that lion bites that whip with his big teeth, and bites it in two? What you gonna do then?"

"Well, then I'll take that gun they all carry, and shoot him."

"Well, what if that gun doesn't work? What will you do then?"

"Well, then I'll pick up some of the shit that's on the bottom of the cage, and I throw it in his eyes, and I run out of the cage."

"Well, what if there ain't no shit in the bottom of the cage? What you gonna do then?"

"Well, that's dumb. Cause if that lion comes at me, and he throws the chair out of the cage, and he bites the whip in two, and my gun don't work, there's going to be some shit on the bottom of that cage, you can bet on that!"

____________________________

Every year at the state fair Paul entered the lottery for the brand new truck and lost. This year, he told his friend David, he wasn't going to bother and enter.

"What kind of attitude is that?" David asked. He leaned closer and whispered, "What you need, pal, is faith. Look around and see if the good Lord sends you a message."

Strolling around the fair, Paul grew more and more despondent as the drawing neared. Nothing struck him, no divine inspiration, no sign from God.

Finally, while he was passing old Mrs. Kelleher's pie stand, he glanced over and saw the woman bending down. She wasn't wearing any panties, and suddenly her ass began to glow. All of a sudden, a finger of flame came from the skies and without her even knowing it, used her ass as a notepad. The fiery finger etched a seven on each cheek.

Thanking God, Paul rushed to the raffle booth and played the number 77. A few minutes later, the drawing was held. And once again, Paul lost.

The winning number was 707....

____________________________

DDL

Her thighs were all covered with cream,
Her breasts with sweet honey a-gleam...
But too good to be true
This sex cordon bleu,
He awoke with two spurts from his dream.

____________________________

I'd rather spend four years with George W. Bush in the White House than one evening with Rush Limbaugh in a hot tub!

____________________________

An anthropologist at Tulane has just come back from a field trip to New Guinea with reports of a tribe so primitive that they have Tide but not the new and improved Tide with lemon-fresh Borax.
-- David Letterman

____________________________

A man was admitted to the hospital suffering from premature ejaculation.

The doctors said it was touch and go.

____________________________

Hey Martha (true)

Monday, February 26, 2001

A craving for curry is satisfied

SYDNEY, Australia (AP) -- A craving for curry has led to what could be a new world record for the longest fast-food delivery.

Rachel Kerr, 24, placed an order via the Internet last week for a curry from her favorite Indian restaurant, the Rupali in the northeast English city of Newcastle.

Four days later, Kerr received the meal atop the Sydney Harbor Bridge, some 10,850 miles away.

"My friend and I were laughing about how you can't get proper curry in Sydney," Kerr said Monday. "We found a website ... and were joking around and said, 'Wouldn't it be funny if we e-mailed them and (asked them) to send us a proper curry?"'

The e-mail got through to Newcastle-based Madaboutcurry website director Rick McCordall.

"I was gobsmacked, absolutely stunned by the order," McCordall said. "We get some really unusual requests on the website, but to actually get a curry order to the other side of the world -- we just had to do it."

Kerr's order of vegetable biryani, pappadums, naan bread, pickles and rice was prepared. The meal was frozen and meat-free to meet customs requirements.

McCordall said he hoped the delivery would make the Guinness Book of Records for the longest fast-food delivery.

The existing record was set in 1998 when a pizza base was sent from New York City to Tokyo -- a distance of 6,752 miles.