This is why we need spell check in our real lives:

This is a very funny video. It has Chinese subtitles and is partially in German, but I’m sure English speakers will find it quite amusing.

This is why we love kids: they see the world differently. And in may cases, it’s funny.

A Kindergarten pupil told his teacher that he had found a cat, but it was dead. “How do you know the cat was dead?” she asked him. “Because I pissed in its ear and it didn’t move,” answered the child innocently. “You did what??” the teacher exclaimed in surprise. “You know,” the boy tried to explain, “I leaned over and went ‘Pssst!’ in its ear and it didn’t move.”

A little girl goes to the barber shop with her father. She stands next to the barber chair, while her dad gets his hair cut, eating a snack cake. The barber says to her, “Sweetheart, you’re going to get hair on your Twinkie.” She says, “Yes, I know, and I’m gonna get boobs too.”

An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into mischief, finally asked him, “How do you expect to get into Heaven?” The boy thought it over and said, “Well, I’ll run in and out and in and out and keep slamming the door until Saint Peter says, ‘For Heaven’s sake, Dylan, come in or stay out!’”

One summer evening during a violent thunderstorm a mother was tucking her son into bed. She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, “Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?” The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. “I can’t dear,” she said, “I have to sleep in Daddy’s room.” A long silence was broken at last by his shaky little voice: “The big sissy.”

It was that time, during the Sunday morning service, for the children’s sermon. All the children were invited to come forward. One little girl was wearing a particularly pretty dress and, as she sat down, the pastor leaned over and said, “That is a very pretty dress. Is it your Easter Dress?” The little girl replied directly into the pastor’s microphone, “Yes, and my Mom says it’s a bitch to iron.”

A woman was six months pregnant with my third child. One as she was preparing to get into the shower, her three year old came into the room. She said, “Mommy, you are getting fat!” I replied, “Yes, honey, remember Mommy has a baby growing in her tummy.” “I know,” she replied, “but what’s growing in your butt?”

One day a first grade teacher was reading the story of Chicken Little to her class. She came to the part where Chicken Little warns the farmer. She read, “…and Chicken Little went up to the farmer and said, ‘The sky is falling!’” The teacher then asked the class, “And what do you think that farmer said?” One little girl raised her hand and said, “I think he said: ‘Holy shit! A talking chicken!’”

Hello, my name is Basmati Kasaar. I am suffering from rare and deadly diseases, poor scores on final exams, extreme virginity, fear of being kidnapped and executed by anal electrocution, and guilt for not
forwarding out 50 billion chain letters sent to me by people who actually believe that if you send them on, then that poor six year old girl in Arkansas with a breast on her forehead will be able to raise enough money to have it removed before her redneck parents sell her off to the traveling freak show.

Do you honestly believe that Bill Gates is going to give you and everyone you send “his” email to $1000? How stupid are you? Ooooh, looky here! If I scroll down this page and make a wish, I’ll get laid by every Playboy model in the magazine! What a bunch of bullshit.

So basically, this message is a big to all the people out there who have nothing better to do than to send me stupid chain mail forwards. Maybe the evil chain letter leprechauns will come into my apartment and sodomize me in my sleep for not continuing the chain which was started by Jesus in 5 A.D. and was brought to this country by midget pilgrims on the Mayflower and if it makes it to the year 2000, it’ll be in the Guinness Book of World Records for longest continuous streak of blatant stupidity.

If you’re going to forward something, at least send me something mildly amusing. I’ve seen all the “send this to 50 of your closest friends, and this poor, wretched excuse for a human being will somehow receive a nickel from some omniscient being” forwards about 90 times. I don’t really care.

Show a little intelligence and think about what you’re actually contributing to by sending out forwards. Chances are it’s your own unpopularity.

The Four Basic Types of Chain Letters:

Chain Letter Type 1:

Chain Letter Type 2

Chain Letter Type 3

Chain Letter Type 4:

The point being? If you get some chain letter that’s threatening to leave you shagless or luckless for the rest of your life, delete it. If it’s funny, send it on. Don’t piss people off by making them feel guilty about a leper in Botswana with no teeth, who’s been tied to a dead elephant for 27 years, whose only saviour is the 5 cents per letter he’ll receive if you forward this mail, otherwise you’ll end up like Miranda. Right?

Now forward this to everyone you know otherwise you’ll have to look at me naked!

There was a fly buzzing around a barn one day when he happened on a pile of fresh cow manure. Due to the fact that it had been hours since his last meal, he flew down and began to eat. He ate and ate and ate.

Finally, he decided he had eaten enough and tried to fly away. He had eaten too much though, and could not get off the ground.

As he looked around, wondering what to do, he spotted a pitchfork leaning against the wall. He climbed to the top of the handle and jumped off, thinking that once he got airborne he would be able to take flight. Unfortunately, he was wrong. He dropped like a rock, splattering against the floor.

The moral to the story: Never fly off the handle when you know you’re full of shit.

You need a personal trainer?

For my birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of a personal trainer at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my high school softball team, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Tawny, who identified herself as a 22-year old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started. The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

Monday:
Started my day at 6:00 AM. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Tawny waiting (She is something of a goddess with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. WOO HOO!!!) Tawny gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes of walking on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to her in her aerobic outfit. (I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my own workout today. Very inspiring.) Tawny was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!!

Tuesday:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out of the door. Tawny made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air…then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Tawny’s rewarding smile made it all worth while. I feel GREAT!!! It’s a whole new life for me.

Wednesday:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. Believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a Geo in the club lot. Tawny was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered the other club members. (Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning, and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is very annoying.) My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Tawny put me on the stair monster. (Why in Hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by the elevator!) Tawny told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other shit too.

Thursday:
Tawny was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. (I couldn’t help being a half hour late. It took that long for me to tie my freaking shoes.) Tawny took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men’s room. She sent Lars the Big Swede in to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine… which I sank.

Friday:
I hate that bitch Tawny more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. (Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader wanna-be bitch!). If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Tawny wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me freaking barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. (Which I am sure you learned in the sadist school you attended and graduated magna cum laude from, you Nazi Bitch.) The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and PE teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

Saturday:
Tawny left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength even to use the TV remote and ended up watching eleven straight hours of the son of a bitching weather channel.

Sunday:
I’m having the church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank God that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my wife (the bitch) will choose a gift for me that is fun…like a root canal or an anal cavity search.

Here’s a small collection of bumper stickers that you just don’t see every day:

Work Harder - Millions on Welfare Depend on You

Driver Carries No Cash - He's Married

Take Revenge: Shit on a Pigeon

Can't Feed 'Em? Don't Breed 'Em

I'm Busy. You're Ugly. Have a Nice Day.

4 out of 3 People Have Trouble With Fractions

The Shortest Sentence is 'I Am.' The Longest is 'I Do.'

I Am Not An Alcoholic. I'm a Drunk. Alcoholics Go To Meetings.

Jesus is Coming....Look Busy.

Gun Control Means Using Both Hands.

I Brake For...Oh Shit, No Brakes!

Drugs Lead Nowhere ... But it's The Scenic Route

Guns Don't Kill People. Drivers with Cellphones Do.

Keep Honking ... I'm Reloading.

Where The Hell is Easy Street?