Kevin's Watch

These are pretty old, so you may have seen them before. They make me laugh every time I read them.

These are metaphors, taken from student essays.


Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a tumble dryer.

She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from doors and would fly up whenever you
banged the door open again.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup.

Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.

Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the centre

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains,
one having left York at 6:36 p.m. travelling at 55 mph, the other from Peterborough at 4:19p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

The thunder was ominous sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm
scene in a play.

The red brick wall was the colour of a brick-red crayon.

Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.

The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes.

Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for while.

"Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a student on 31p-a-pint night.

He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from
stepping on a land mine or something.

Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter."

She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before.

The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Glenda Jackson MP in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to
Robin Cook MP, Leader of the House of Commons, in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the suspension of Keith Vaz
MP.

The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a lamppost.

The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a
surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free cashpoint.

The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.

It was a working class tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with their power tools.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a dustcart reversing.

She was as easy as the Daily Star crossword.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature British beef.

She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.

Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.

It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

A man walks out to the street and catches a taxi just going by. He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank."

Passenger: 'Who?'

Cabbie: "Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time."

Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody."

Cabbie: "Not Frank Feldman He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy."

Passenger: "Sounds like he was something really special."

Cabbie: "There's more... He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right."

Passenger: "Wow, some guy then."

Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman."

Passenger: "An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?"

Cabbie: "Well, I never actually met Frank. He died. I'm married to his friggin widow."

One for the Canucks.....


Dear Abby,

I have never written to you before, but I really need your advice.
I have suspected for some time now that my wife has been cheating on me.
The usual signs; phone rings but if I answer, the caller hangs
up. She has been going out with 'the girls' a lot recently although when
I ask their names she always says, just some friends from work, you
don't know them.

I try to stay awake and look out for her when she comes home, but I
usually fall asleep. Anyway, I have never broached the subject with
her, I think deep down I just did not want to know the truth, but last
night she went out again and I decided to finally check on her.

Around midnight, I hid in the garage behind my hockey equipment so I
could get a good view of the whole street when she arrived home from a night
out with 'the girls.'

When she got out of the car she was buttoning up her blouse, and she
took her panties out of her purse and slipped them on. It was at That
moment, crouching behind my hockey gear, that I noticed a hairline crack
where the blade meets the graphite shaft on my new one piece hockey stick.

Is this something I can fix myself or should I take it back to the
pro-shop where I bought it?

Please Advise,
Pete

A woman awakes during the night to find that her husband was not in their bed.

She puts on her dressing gown and goes downstairs to look for him.

She finds him sitting at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee in front of him. He appears to be in deep thought, just staring at the wall.

She watches as he wipes a tear from his eye and takes a sip of his coffee.

'What's the matter, dear?' she whispers as she steps into the room. 'Why are you down here at this time of night?'

The husband looks up from his coffee, 'I am just remembering when we first met 20 years ago and started dating. You were only 16. Do you remember back then?' he says solemnly.

The wife is touched to tears thinking that her husband is so caring, so sensitive.

'Yes, I do' she replies.

The husband pauses. The words were not coming easily.

'Do you remember when your father caught us in the back seat of my car?'

'Yes, I remember!' said the wife, lowering herself into a chair beside him.

The husband continues. 'Do you remember when he shoved the shotgun in my face and said, 'Either you marry my daughter, or I will send you to jail for 20 years?'

'I remember that too,' she replies softly.

He wipes another tear from his cheek and says...

'I would have been released today.'

Sorry for the pointless commentary, but I am still in tears after reading Mysteweave's list. They say that there is more humor in truth than in fiction. "They" may be right.

The scene is Bishoploch Primary School , Glasgow.Teacher: 'Good morning children, today is Thursday, so we're going to have a general knowledge quiz.

The pupil who gets the answer right can have Friday and Monday off and not come back to school until Tuesday.'

Wee Murray thinks, 'Ya beauty! I'm pure dead brilliant at general knowledge, so I am. This is goannae be a doddle!'

Teacher: ' Right class, who can tell me who said. ' Don't ask what our country can do for you, but what you can do for your country?'

Wee Murray shoots up his hand, waving furiously in the air.

Teacher looking round picks Farquhar Fauntleroy at the front.

'Yes, Farquhar?' Farquhar (in a very English accent): ' Yes miss, the answer is J F Kennedy - inauguration speech 1960.'

Teacher: 'Very good Farquhar. You may stay off Friday and Monday and we will see you back in class on Tuesday.'

The next Thursday comes around, and Wee Murray is even more determined.

Teacher: 'Who said 'We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them in the air, we will fight them at sea. But we will never surrender?' Wee Murray 's hand shoots up, arm stiff as a board, shouting 'I know, I know. Pick me Miss, pick me Miss'.

Teacher looking round and picks Tarquin Smythe, sitting at the front: 'Yes Tarquin.'

Tarquin (in a very, very posh English accent): 'Yes miss, the answer is Winston Churchill, 1941 Battle of Britain speech.'

Teacher: 'Very good Tarquin, you may stay off Friday and Monday and come back to class on Tuesday.'

The following Thursday comes around and Wee Murray is hyper; he's been studying encyclopedias all week and he's ready for anything that comes.

He's coiled in his chair, dribbling in anticipation.

Teacher: 'Who said 'One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind?'

Wee Murray 's arm shoots straight in the air, he's standing on his seat, jumping up and down screaming 'Pick me miss. Pick me miss. I know, I know. Me Miss, me miss, meeeeee'.

Teacher looking round the class picks Rupert, sitting at the front.

'Yes, Rupert?' Rupert (in a frightfully, frightfully, ever so plummy English accent):

'Miss, that was Neil Armstrong, 1969, the first moon landing.'

Teacher: 'Very good Rupert. You may stay off Friday and Monday and come back into class on Tuesday.'

Wee Murray loses the plot altogether, tips his desk and throws his chair at the wall. He starts screaming: 'WHERE THE FECK DID ALL THESE ENGLISH BA#T#RDS COME FROM?'

Teacher spins back round from the blackboard and shouts: 'Who said that?'

Wee Murray grabs his coat and bag and heads for the door, 'Robert the Bruce, Bannockburn , 1314. See ye on Tuesday Miss !!

A very wealthy history buff decides that he is going to open a museum that exhibits only paintings of events of great historical significance. He consults a number of experts on all the various needs for a first-rate attraction. Eventually, he has everthing in place to open in six months, except one thing: One of his advisors mentioned that one key to success was a grand opening, and the best way to ensure that was to unveil new work by a famous artist.
He tracks down the most famous living painter in the country, and goes to see him.
"I would like to commission a work for my gallery. The subject is "Custer's Last Stand. I need it in 6 months, and it must be large since it will be the showpiece for the opening."
"I can do it, but I must be given complete freedom to paint as I wish, and no one, not even you, will see it until the moment it is unveiled at your opening.
"Agreed."
Opening date arrives, the museum is packed with the richest, the most beautiful, the most influential.
At precisely midnight, the gentlemen steps up to a podium in front of a very large curtain. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the latest work by the famous Mr.________....."Custer's Last Stand" The crowd gasps in shock. The man turns towards the painting and sees a tall, blond man in blue uniform. Surrounding him are vast expanses of land completely covered with Indians in various states of undress and compromising positions. He charges from the podium, pins the artist against the wall, and shouts "I wanted an historical painting, not pornography!"
"It is my interpretation of the actual event."
"Are you crazy? How can that obscenity be historical!"
"It is obvious. The General climbed the hill, looked around and said
'Holy s..t, look at all those f..ing Indians.'

What's brown and sounds like a bell?








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Dung!

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed. On your right side is a
sharp drop off, and on your left side is an elephant traveling at the same
speed as you. Directly in front of you is a galloping zebra and your
horse is unable to overtake it. Behind you is a lion running at the same
speed as you and the Kangaroo. What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?



















Wait until the merry-go-round stops.

You know, Obama's stimulus package kind of reminds me of my favorite beer: you keep checking the fridge to see if it's still there.

BING.

I know where my votes are going...

Why shouldn't you buy Ukrainian underwear?
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Chernobyl fallout.

sorry, but it made me laugh!

Obama, Castro, and Bin Laden are walking down a beach and come upon a genie's bottle.
The Genie pops out and claims that since he can only grant 3 wishes, the 3 men can get only one wish each.
Castro steps up and says, "I want my island to be full with wealth and everybody is happy to live there."
*Poof* - Castro dissappears and Cuba becomes the world's best island resort.
Bin Laden steps up and says, "I want a giant wall around my country so that no idiots (meaning the rest of the world) can come in nor out."
*Poof* - Bin Laden dissappears and Afganistan is surrounded by a stone wall."
Osama steps up and says, "Genie, tell me more about this wall."
The Genie tells him, "It is 500 feet tall, 50 feet thick, completely encircles the land, and nothing can go through it."
Obama thinks a moment and says, "Fill it with water!"

A married couple were on holiday in Jamaica .. They were touring around the market-place looking at the goods and such, when they passed a small sandal shop.

From inside they heard the shopkeeper with a Jamaican accent say, 'You
foreigners! Come in. Come into my humble shop.'

So the married couple walked in.
The Jamaican said to them, 'I 'ave some special sandals I tink you would be interested in. Dey makes you wild at sex.'

Well, the wife was really interested in buying the sandals after what the
man claimed, but her husband felt he really didn't need them,
being the Sex God that he was.

The husband asked the man, 'How could sandals make you a sex freak?'

The Jamaican replied, 'Just try dem on, Mon.'

Well, the husband, after some badgering from his wife, finally gave in and tried them on.

As soon as he slipped them onto his feet, he got this wild look in his eyes, something his wife hadn't seen before!!

In the blink of an eye, the husband grabbed the Jamaican, bent him over the table, yanked down his pants, ripped down his own pants, and grabbed a firm hold of the Jamaican's thighs.

The Jamaican began screaming: 'You got dem on de wrong feet!'

The Saga of Blood Ninja

Note: it's vulgar, NSFW, and your 5 year old probably shouldn't read it.

JazFusion wrote:The Saga of Blood Ninja

Note: it's vulgar, NSFW, and your 5 year old probably shouldn't read it.

But it's f-n hysterical.

Hours of fun with David Lee Roth.

A guy is browsing in a pet shop and sees a parrot sitting on a little perch.
It doesn't have any feet or legs. The guy says aloud, "Jeesh, I wonder what
happened to this parrot?"

The parrot says, "I was born this way. I'm a defective parrot."

"Holy crap," the guy replies. "You actually understood and answered me!"

"I got every word," says the parrot. "I happen to be a highly intelligent thoroughly educated bird."

"Oh yeah?" the guy asks, "Then answer this -- how do you hang onto your perch without any feet?"

"Well," the parrot says, "this is very embarrassing but since you asked, I wrap my weenie
around this wooden bar like a little hook. You can't see it because of my feathers."

"Wow," says the guy. " You really can understand and speak English can't you?"

"Actually, I speak both Spanish and English, and I can converse with reasonable competence
on almost any topic: politics, religion, sports, physics, philosophy. I'm especially good at
ornithology. You really ought to buy me. I'd be a great companion."

The guy looks at the $200.00 price tag. "Sorry, but I just can't afford that."

"Pssssssst," says the parrot, "I'm defective, so the truth is, nobody wants me cause I don't
have any feet. You can probably get me for $20; just make the guy an offer!"

The guy offers $20 and walks out with the parrot.

Weeks go by. The parrot is sensational. He has a great sense of humor, he's interesting, he's a
great pal, he understands everything, he sympathizes, and he's insightful. The guy is delighted.

One day the guy comes home from work and the parrot goes, "Psssssssssssst," and motions
him over with one wing. "I don't know if I should tell you this or not, but it's about your wife
and the postman."

"What are you talking about?" asks the guy.

"When the postman delivered the mail today, your wife greeted him at the door in a
sheer black nightie."

"WHAT???" the guy asks incredulously. "THEN what happened?"

"Well, then the postman came into the house and lifted up her nightie and began petting
her all over," reported the parrot.

"NO!" he exclaims. "And she let him?"

"Yes. Then he continued taking off the nightie, got down on his knees and began to kiss
her all over...."

Then the frantic guy demands, "THEN WHAT HAPPENED?"

"Damned if I know. I got a hard-on and fell off my perch!"