A soldier was asked to report to headquarters for assignment. The sergeant said: “We have a critical shortage of typists. I’ll give you a little test. Type this,” he ordered, giving him a pamphlet to copy and a sheet of paper, and pointing to a desk across the room that held a typewriter and an adding machine.
The man, quite reluctant to become a clerk typist, made a point of typing very slowly, and saw to it that his work contained as many errors as possible.
The sergeant gave the typed copy only a brief glance.
“That’s fine,” he said; “Report for work at 8 tomorrow.”
“But aren’t you going to check the test?” the prospective clerk asked.
The sergeant grinned. “You passed the test,” he replied, “when you sat down at the typewriter instead of at the adding machine.”
I know we’ve had this one before but what the heck.
The Jones family had a small farm in Canada, just yards away from the U.S. border.
Because it was so close to the border, the area was the cause for a minor but long-standing dispute between the United States and Canada.
One day, Mrs Jones came in with the mail. “We just got some news, dear,” she said to her husband. “The governments have finally decided that our land is really part of the United States. If we agree, we can choose to join the United States as a part of North Dakota. What do you think?”
“Sign it!” he said, “Call them right now and tell them we accept! I don’t think I can stand another Canadian winter!”
I think sister Sarah sent me this but if I am mistaken, my apologies.
There is a new virus going around, called “work.” If you receive any sort of “work” at all, whether via email, Internet or simply handed to you by a colleague … DO NOT OPEN IT.
This has been circulating around our building for months and those who have been tempted to open “work” or even look at “work” have found that their social life is deleted and their brain ceases to function properly.
If you do encounter “work” via email or are faced with any “work” at all, then to purge the virus, send an email to your boss with the words “I’ve had enough . . . I’m off to the pub.” The “work” should automatically be forgotten by your brain. If you receive “work” in paper-document form, simply lift the document and drag the “work” to your garbage can. Put on your hat and coat and skip to the nearest bar with two friends and order three pints of beer (or rum punch). After repeating this action 14 times, you will find that “work” will no longer be of any relevance to you and that “Scooby Doo” was the greatest cartoon ever.
Send this message to everyone in your address book. If you do NOT have anyone in your address book, then I’m afraid the “work” virus has already corrupted your life.
Each morning this week it seems to have dawned bright and clear but, by the time I’m out of bed, showered and out the door for a stroll with the dog (and before you say anything, that is some times well before noon), the clouds have moved in from the east and we’re back to what is clearly becoming the “norm” for March – cold, overcast, breezy and grey. It’s been the coldest March since 1962 and the fourth coldest since records begin, so they say. And, 