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Monday Humor

Havok1

Havok1

Member
I know this is a stretch 'cause I don't know any guys who keep a diary, but if they did, I think this would be about right.

HIS AND HER DIARIES!

HER DIARY:

Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird.

We had made plans to meet at a bar to have a drink. I was shopping with
my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was
a bit late, but he made no comment on it.

Conversation wasn't flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so
we could talk. He agreed, but he didn't say much. I asked him what was
wrong. He said, 'Nothing.' I asked him if it was my fault that he was
upset. He said he wasn't upset, that it had nothing to do with me, & not
to worry about it.

On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, & kept
driving.
I can't explain his behavior.

I don't know why he didn't say, 'I love you, too.' When we got home, I
felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with
me anymore. He just sat there quietly, & watched TV. He continued to
seem distant & absent.

Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed. About 15
minutes later, he came to bed. To my surprise, he responded to my caress,
& we made love. But I still felt that he was distracted, & his thoughts
were somewhere else. He fell asleep â?" I cried. I don't know what to do.
I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a
disaster.



HIS DIARY:


Mustang wouldn't start today, but at least I got laid.
 
The Beer Prayer

Warning: this topic has not been posted in for at least 90 days.
Unless you're sure you want to reply, please consider starting a new topic.

Sure I want to post here. This was a funny joke and no one replied to it.

So here is another little thing to go with it.



Our lager,
Which art in barrels,
Hollowed be thy drink.
I will be drunk,
At home as in the travern.
Give us this day our foamy head,
And forgive us our spillages,
As we forgive those who spill against us.
And lead us not into incarceration,
But deliver us from hangerovers.
For thine is the beer. The bitter and the lager
Forever and ever,
Barmen

fd
 
I'm glad you saved it fd, I didn't see it the first time. I would have printed it in a Valentines day card yesterday for the wife had I known.
Jon
 
Man v. Woman

A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants. is
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't want

A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.

A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.

To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot and love him a little.
To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.

Married men live longer than single men.
But married men are a lot more willing to die.

Any married man should forget his mistakes.
No sense two people remembering the same thing

Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.
Women somehow deteriorate during the night.

A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change and she does.

A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

fd
 
This is an excerpt from Dave Barry's book _A Guide to Guys_. On the differences between men and women...


Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else. And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"

And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.

And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.

And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward ... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?

And Roger is thinking: ... so that means it was... let's see.... February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer's, which means ... lemme check the odometer ... Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed -- even before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.

And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a darn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves $600.

And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.

And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90-day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumballs.

And Elaine is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a darn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their ....
"Roger," Elaine says aloud.

"What?" says Roger, startled.

"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have ... Oh my, I feel so ..." (She breaks down, sobbing.)

"What?" says Roger.

"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."

"There's no horse?" says Roger.

"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.

"No!" says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.

"It's just that ... It's that I ... I need some time," Elaine says. (There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one that he thinks might work.)

"Yes," he says.

(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?" she says.

"What way?" says Roger.

"That way about time," says Elaine.

"Oh," says Roger. "Yes."

(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.) "Thank you, Roger," she says.

"Thank you," says Roger.

Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it. (This is also Roger's policy regarding world hunger.) The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either. Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and say:

"Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"
 
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