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I was having trouble with my computer. So I called Harold, the computer guy to come over.  Harold clicked a couple of buttons and solved the problem.  He gave me a bill for a minimum service call.
As he was walking away, I called after him, "So, what was wrong?
He replied, "It was an ID ten T error."
I didn't want to appear stupid, but nonetheless inquired, "An, ID ten T
error? What's that?  In case I need to fix it again?"
The computer guy grinned.... "Haven't you ever heard of an ID ten T error before?"
No," I replied.
Write it down," he said, "and I think you'll figure it out."
So I wrote out ........ I D 1 0 T
I used to like Harold.

How tough are men
The scene is set, a dark night, cold wind blowing, campfire flickering, stars twinkling in the dark sky.
Three hang-glider pilots sitting by the campfire, one from Australia, one from South Ifrika and one from New Zulland. Each embroiled in the bravado for which they are famous. The night of tales begins...
Kiven the Kiwi says, "I must be the meanest, toughest, heng glider there es. Why, jist the other day I linded in a field and scared a crocodeale, who came out of the swamp and ate sux min who were standen close by.  I grebbed the crocodeale and wristled him to du ground and killed em with my beer hends"
Alan from South Africa who typically can't stand to be bettered said, "Well you guys, I lended orfter a 200 mile flight in my heng glider on a tiny trail, and a Namibian snike slid out from under a rock and  made a move on me. I grebbed de borsted with me bare hinds and beet it's head off ind then sucked the poison from it's body down in one gulp. End I'm still here today"
Terry, the Aussie remained silent, slowly poking the fire with his penis.


 

Two old friends were just about to tee off at the first hole of their local golf course when a chap carrying a golf bag called out to them, "Do you mind if I join you? My partner didn't turn up."
"Sure," they said, "You're welcome." So they started playing and enjoyed the game and the company of the newcomer.
Part way around the course, one of the friends asked the newcomer, "What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a hit man," was the reply.
"You're joking!" was the response.
"No, I'm not," he said, reaching into his golf bag, and pulling out a beautiful Martini sniper's rifle with a large telescopic sight. "Here are my tools."
"That's a beautiful telescopic sight," said the other friend, "Can I take a look? I think I might be able to see my house from here."
So he picked up the rifle and looked through the sight in the direction of his house.
"Yeah, I can see my house all right. This sight is fantastic. I can see right in the window."
"Wow, I can see my wife in the bedroom. Ha Ha, I can see she's naked!
What's that? Wait a minute, that's my neighbour in there with her....... He's naked as well The bitch!"
He turned to the hitman, "How much do you charge for a hit?"
"I'll do a flat rate, for you, one thousand dollars every time I pull the trigger."
"Can you do two for me now?"
"Sure, what do you want?"
"First, shoot my wife, she's always been mouthy, so shoot her in the mouth. Then the neighbour, he's a mate of mine, a bit of a lad and we watch the football together, so just shoot his dick off to teach him a lesson."
The hitman took the rifle and took aim, standing perfectly still for a few minutes.
"Are you going to do it or not?" said the friend impatiently.
"Just wait a moment, be patient," said the hitman calmly, "I think I can save you a grand here....."

 

A man appears before St. Peter at the pearly gates. "Have you ever done anything of particular merit?" St. Peter asks.

"Well, I can think of one thing," the man offers. "Once, on a trip to the Black Hills, out in South Dakota, I came upon a gang of high-testosterone bikers who were threatening a young woman. I directed them to leave her alone, but they wouldn't listen. So I approached the largest and most heavily tattooed biker. I smacked him on the head, kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring and threw it on the ground, and told him, 'Leave her alone now or you'll answer to me.'"

St. Peter was impressed. "When did this happen?"

"Just a couple of minutes ago."

There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2020, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no
recollection of what to do with them.
 

A couple were going out for the evening.

They'd gotten ready, dressed, dog put out and ready to leave. The taxi arrives and as the couple start out, the dog shoots back into the house.

They don't want the dog shut in the house, so the wife goes out to the taxi while the husband goes upstairs to chase the dog out. The wife, not wanting it known that the house will be empty explains  to the taxi driver: "He's just going upstairs to say good-bye to my mother."

A few minutes later, the husband gets into the cab.  "Sorry I took so long" he says. "Stupid bitch was hiding under the bed and I had to poke her with a coat hanger to get her to come out! Then I had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching and biting me as I hauled her ass downstairs and tossed her into the back yard! She better not shit in the vegetable garden again!"

The silence in the cab was deafening.

After some deliberation and careful scientific study I have come to the conclusion that there is considerable merit to this theory.

Five ways to hypnotize a man...

 

In pharmacology, all drugs have a generic name. Panadol is Paracetamol, Amoxil is Amoxicillin, Nurofen is Ibuprofen, and so on.

The Federal Drug Administration has been looking for a generic name for Viagra, and announced that it has settled on Mycoxafloppin.

Also considered were Mycoxafailin, Mydixadrupin, Mydixarizin, Mydixadud, Dixafix, and of course, Ibepokin.

Two friends, a blonde and a redhead, are walking down the street and pass a flower shop where the redhead saw her boyfriend buying flowers. Red sighed and said, "Oh, crap, my boyfriend is buying  me flowers again."

The blonde looked quizzically at her and said, "You don't like getting flowers from your boyfriend?"

The redhead said, "I love getting flowers, but he always has expectations after giving me flowers, and I just don't feel  like spending the next three days on my back with my legs in the air."

The blonde says, "Don't you have a vase?"

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."
"No, I can't accept payment for what I did, "the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer.
At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.
"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.
"Yes," the farmer replied proudly.
"I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of."

And that he did. Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time?

Penicillin.

The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.

His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said: What goes around comes around.

A blonde guy gets home early from work and hears strange noises coming from the bedroom. He rushes
upstairs to find his wife naked on the bed, sweating and panting. "What's up?" he says. I'm having a heart attack," cries the woman.

He rushes downstairs to grab the phone, but just as he's dialling, his 4-year-old son comes up and says,
" Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Ted's hiding in your closet and he's got no clothes on!" The guy slams the phone down and storms upstairs into the bedroom, past his screaming wife, and rips open the wardrobe door.

Sure enough, there is his brother, totally naked, cowering on the closet floor. "You rotten bastard," says the husband, "my wife's having a heart attack and you're running around naked scaring the kids!"

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