January 1, 0001
HumourList Package #23 - So Many Idtios, So Few Comets
Folks, why is it that idiot humour gets attracted to me like flies get attracted to … those purple-light-zapper-thingies?
I keep finding all this humour and figure what better to do with it, but share it? There are also a few mixed jokes in there too, just for good measure.
Opening header is Copyright 1997 by Ian W. Douglas; all rights are reserved, and no portion should be copied in any way or modified in any way without permission of the author.
A man went in to his doctor complaining that he was short sighted. The doctor took him outside and pointed to the sky, “What can you see” asked the doctor. “The sun,” replied the man.
“Well how far do you want to see” the doctor replies…
It has become commonplace to read in our newspapers of a crime somewhere in America amusingly bungled by the criminal’s ineptitude. Droll though these news items may be, they reflect an overlooked cost of our current national crisis in education. The basic learning skills of criminals have deteriorated to a shocking degree.
Consider the following:
o A bank robber in Bumpus, Tenn., handed a teller the following note: “Watch out. This is a rubbery. I hav an oozy traned on your but. Dump the in a sack, this one. No die packkets or other triks or I will tare you a new naval. No kwarter with red stuff on them, too.” Dr. Creon V.B. Smyk of the Ohio Valley Educational Council says such notes are, lamentably, the rule. “Right across the board, we see poor pre-writing skills, problems with omissions, tense, agreement, spelling and clarity,” he moaned.
Smyk believes that the quality of robbery notes could be improved if criminals could be taught to plan before writing. “We have to stress organization: Make an outline of your robbery note before you write it,” he said. “Some of the notes get totally sidetracked on issues like the make, model and caliber of the gun, number of bullets, etc., until one loses sight of the main idea – the robbery.”
o In Bent Forks, Ill., kidnapers of ice-cube magnate Worth Bohnke sent a photograph of their captive to Bohnke’s family. Bohnke was seen holding up a newspaper. It was not that day’s edition and, in fact, bore a prominent headline relating to Nixon’s trip to China.
This was pointed out to the kidnapers in a subsequent phone call. They responded by sending a new photograph showing an up-to-date newspaper. Bohnke, however, did not appear in the picture. When this, too, was refused, the kidnapers became peevish and insisted that a photograph be sent to them showing all the people over at Bohnke’s house holding different issues of Success magazine.
They provided a mailing address and were immediately apprehended. They later admitted to FBI agents they did not understand the principle involved in the photograph/newspaper concept. “We thought it was just some kind of tradition,” said one. Educators agree that such mix-ups point to poor reasoning and comprehension skills, ignorance of current events, and failure to complete work in the time allotted.
o Burglars in Larch Barrens, Md., tried to cut through a safe using a Lazer Tag gun.
o Industrial thieves broke into the Bilgetek plant in Canasta, Wash., by crossing a metal catwalk and then blew it up, having forgotten it was their only means of escape.
o Rustlers in Spavin, N.D., made off with three Saint Bernard dogs, a stationary bicycle and the visiting in-laws of a farmer, after having failed to correctly identify the valuable cattle on the premises.
“No problem-solving abilities, no communication skills, no ‘plays and relates well with others,’ no nothing,” FBI regional director J. Paine Bloomey said, reviewing the state of modern criminality. “We are talking plain, flat-out, hard-boiled, stupid as pea turkeys.”
By contrast, Japanese criminals score in the range 10 to 15 points higher than their American counterparts in basic skills tests. In the Japanese underworld, it is considered a matter of honor to execute a thoughtful, grammatical, error-free crime.
Still, experts such as Smyk stop short of demanding a total overhaul of the educational system. “For all their acumen,” he says, “Japanese criminals wind up sacrificing a lot of the joie de vivre you see in our guys.”
The Lewis family owned a small farm in Canada, a stone’s throw from the North Dakota border. Their land had been the subject of a minor dispute between the United States and Canada for generations. Mrs. Lewis, who had just celebrated her eightieth birthday, lived on the farm with her son and four grandchildren.
One day her son came into her bedroom, holding a letter. “I just got some news, Mom,” he said. “The government has come to an agreement with the people in Washington. They’ve decided that our land is really part of the United States. We have the right to approve or disapprove of the agreement. What do you think?”
“Hmmmm,” his mother said. “Don’t hesitate. Tell them we accept! I don’t think I could stand another one of those Canadian winters!”
The priest was administering the last rites to a critically-ill Idiot. Before anointing the man, the priest asked, “Do you renounce the world, the flesh, and the Devil?”
The Idiot replied: “I think in my condition this is no time to offend anyone.”
Ole died. So Lena went to the local paper to put a notice in the obituaries. The gentleman at the counter, after offering his condolences, asked Lena what she would like to say about Ole.
Lena replied, “You just put ‘Ole died’”
The gentleman, somewhat perplexed, said, “That’s it? Just ‘Ole died?’ Surely, there must be something more you’d like to say about Ole. If it’s money you’re concerned about, the first five words are free. We must say something more.”
So Lena pondered for a few minutes and finally said, “O.K. You put ‘Ole died. Boat for sale.‘”
Robbers Booty Explodes in his pants when Beach bank’s dye bomb blasts:
Virginia Beach - Police are searching for an embarrassed bank robber who was hurt Tuesday morning after a dye pack exploded in his pants and burned a hole through his fly. Witnesses last saw the man strip to his boxer shorts on Pacific Avenue and run away, leaving the money and his smoldering pants behind.
The robbery happened around 11:30 am at Life Savings Bank near 38th street and Pacific Avenue. Police spokesman Mike Carey said this is what happened:
The man gave a bank teller a plastic Food Lion grocery bag and demanded “all the money in the bank”. The teller filled the bag with money and an explosive dye pack that burns at about 400 degrees when activated. The robber stuffed the bag down the front of his pants and ran from the bank.
Carey said witnesses then saw “an explosion taking place inside his pants. He was seen hopping and jumping around.” The hot dye pack seared through the crotch of the robbers jeans. Police confiscated the charred pants but have not yet caught the robber.
“He’s probably sitting around with an ice pack in his lap”, Carey said. “That is, if he hasn’t sought medical attention.” Police alerted area hospitals to be on the lookout for a man complaining of crotch burns. Investigators also asked the publics help in finding the robber. The suspect may be stained with bright red dye.
“If he has the dye on his, uh, shall we say, “person”, it will be there for several days”, Carey said. Police are investigating whether the fugitive could be the same man who robbed a Nations Bank on Pleasure House Road a day earlier.
From The Virginian Pilot July 16 1997, article by Mike Mather.
Saddam Hussein is visiting a school. In one class, he asks the students if anyone can give him an example of a “tragedy”.
One little boy stands up and offers that “If my best friend who lives next door was playing in the street when a car came along and killed him, that would be a tragedy.”
“No,” Hussein says, “That would be an ACCIDENT.”
A girl raises her hand. “If a school bus carrying fifty Iraqi children drove off a cliff, killing everyone involved… that would be a tragedy.”
“I’m afraid not,” explains Hussein. “That is what we would call a GREAT LOSS.”
The room is silent; none of the other children volunteer. “What?” asks Hussein, “Is there no one here who can give me an example of a tragedy?”
Finally, a boy in the back raises his hand. In a timid voice, he speaks: “If an airplane carrying Yassar Arafat, Colonel Gaddafi, and Saddam Hussein were blown up by a bomb, that would be a tragedy.”
“Wonderful!” Hussein beams. “Marvelous! And can you tell me WHY that would be a tragedy?”
“Well,” says the boy, “because it wouldn’t be an accident, and it certainly would be no great loss!”