Conference thebay::joyoflex

I've always wanted a pair of DustBuster's in my office....



That way I could be the first guy on the block with 2 microVAX.


- dave

  For the most memorable pun of my career, I'm going to polish up the dialog
  a little:

  Customer:  "Please fix the Task Builder."
  DECperson: "Why?  It's not broken.  It's been running for years."

--Simon

re .-2  I keep my dustbuster on the dashboard of my car.
I hope to avoid speeding tickets using it.

I once had a cat that would catch mice by eating cheese and then waiting
near their holes with
baited breath.

My uncle taught me how to measure the length of a dock by counting the cracks
between the boards.  As he put it,

	"When you're out of slits, you're out of pier."

    I became quite fond of monkey meat while living in the Phillipeans.
    In fact, now I like orange juice and simian toes for breakfast...

    True stories:
    
    Some years ago, someone complained that the olives served in the
    Salad Bar in the Bedford cafeteria were always stuffed, and they
    preferred the olives with the pits still in.  The cafeteria management
    said that most people preferred the pitted olives; if they put out
    the unpitted ones, they weren't used.  The obvious moral is that
    it's better to be pitted than scorned...

    
    As a high school science teacher, I asked some students to help
    clean out and repair the old alcohol lamps.  Remember those?  Labs
    that didn't have enough bunsen burner outlets had these little glass
    alcohol lamps with wicks.  There were several hundred of these things
    in the storeroom (this was a BIG high school: Maury High, in Norfolk,
    Virginia, with over 1200 students).  While most students pitched
    in willingly, several simply lounged around in the back doing nothing.
    After all the lamps had been trimmed and prepared, some of these
    lazy students asked me for new wicks, since the lamps they had been
    given didn't have any.  "No", I replied, "there is no wick for the
    rested."

First of all, this is not from Bob White.  This is from his
wife, Cathy Granai, an ex-DECie.  What follows is one of my 
very favorite bad puns.  It is not of my own creation, but I
do not recall where I first learned it - back in high school
or so.

****

Three Indian women are sitting side by side.  The first is sitting
on a deerskin, and has a son who weighs 130 pounds.  The second is
seated on an elkskin, and she has a son who weighs 170 pounds.
The third woman, sitting on a hippopotamus hide, weighs 300 pounds.
What mathematical law does this demonstrate?


Naturally, that the squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sons
of the squaws on the other two hides!

Then there was the pet shop in Dodge City in 1890, which advertised
a sale of Dachshunds with the sign
	"Get a long little doggie"

    
    A vacationer on the Aleutian Islands broke his glasses.
    He asked a native if there were any optometrists on the islands
    and was told there weren't any.  "You mean I have to go to the
    main land to get them fixed?", he asked.  The native replied,
    "Yes.  You can keep looking for one here, but if you ever
    see one, it will just be an...optical Aleutian"

    Joe went to the bank to get a loan so he could 
    expand his corner pizza shop.  The bank officer
    told him that the loan arranger was out to lunch,
    so he may have to wait 1 hour.  Joe replied,
     "That's ok, ifa the Lone Ranger isa no here, I'll
      talka to Tonto"

    	An English gentleman noted for his wit was once asked
    
    		"Make us a pun".
    
    		"Apun what subject?"
    
    	was the reply.
    
    		"Apun the king".
    
    	To which he responded,
    
    		"Nay, nay, the king is not a subject!"
    
    
    
    
    You can always tell how good your puns are by how loud
    everyone else groans!
    
    Norm

    Hey, this is a great notes file!
    
    I took a class on automata theory taught by Jon Bentley. He had
    a habit of trying to make the class more interesting and memorable
    by introducing some levity in various ways.
    
    One of these ways was writing these silly little songs. (Picture
    a cat sitting on a crate, strumming a guitar and singing.)

      Love to pump 'dat lemma
      'Dat lemma what I love to pump
      Show them primes ain't regulah
      Give them palindromes the bump.
    
      Love to show it's regulah
      Regulahity what I love to show
      I use RE's, RG's, or FSA's
      And sometimes I use 'em all.
    
      Love to prove them theorems
      Theorems what I love to prove
      Show FSA = NFSA
      Make that nondeterministic move!
    
      Love to hack them grammars
      Grammars what I love to hack
      Make RG's go to FSA's
      And then make 'em go right back!

    Well, after introducing one of these, he claimed that he had thought
    of it while sleeping (dreaming?!), woke up, and quickly wrote it
    down so he wouldn't forget.
    
    At which point I said, "Oh no! That's going from bed to verse!"
    
    			---Walter

    An associate of mine tells me her brother actually came up with
    the following:
    Her family had a distant female relative who had reputedly seduced
    half the eligible noblemen of Europe.
    "Ah! She made every second count!"
    
    -John

At a restaurant, I never order duck.  The bill's too large.

hee hee!

    I never critize the opening night of a play.  Who am I to stone
    the first cast?
    
    However, I throw rocks at seagulls on the beach.  I try to leave
    no tern unstoned.

      Re .17
      
      While you're at the beach leaving no tern unstoned, make sure
      you lie naked on your stomach for at least half an hour in
      the sun.  You wouldn't want to leave a stern untoned!
      
      Dave C.

     
     ...or the shocking double suicide of the West Virginia couple who
     killed themselves by leaping head first into a two-holer outhouse,
     so that they would be interred side-by-side.
     
     --Mr Topaz

Below are some "punchlines" to a bunch of the "Father Goose Stories".
The last few responses reminded me of these.  Anyone got any more?
(With these stinkers you don't need the whole joke; the ending is
"funny" enough... :-)

I wouldn't send a knight out on a dog like this.
Let your pages do the walking through the yellow fingers
Pardon me Roy, is that the cat who chewed your new shoes?
I've come to seize here berry, not to praise it.
The Koala tea of Mercy is never strained.
You can lead a whore to culture, but you can't make her think.
Silly Rabbi, kicks are for Trids.
People who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones.
No soap, radio.
Oppornockity tunes but once
You can't have your kayak and heat it too.
The squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the other two squaws.
It's the beer that made Mill Famey walk us.

	two obese Patties,
	    special Ross,
		Lester Cheese picking bunions
		    on a Sesame Street bus!

Now is the dinner of our wistful gent wrent gory assunder by this ton of pork.
[Can you place this one?  - ed]

    ...obscene clone fall.
    
    Ah, sweet Mr. Rhee of Life [magazine], at last I've found you!
    

Hey, we're on a roll with this rock/stone stuff, let's not fade.

I'm not quite sure about the delivery, but it's conceivable that the
mothers of a number of folks just might be out collecting rocks one day.
And it's conceivable that someone tells a great joke that puts them
all in stitches.

One could then observe:

	Rolling mas gather no stones.

Is this funny ?  Please say yes.

/Eric

    re: .22
    
    funny?  desparate sounds closer to the truth....
    

      re .20
      
>The squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the other two squaws.

      That was:
      
      The squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws
      on the other two hides.
      
      --
      
      More:
      
      Carrion gulls across the staid lion for immortal porpoises.
      Rudolf the Red knows rain, dear.
      People who live in glass houses shouldn't!
      
      Dave C.

    People who live in glass houses...can't very well avoid answering
    the door bell.

     
     He's a typical gnu, and a tiler, too.
     Boy-foot bear with teak of Chan.
     Pardon me Loy, is that the shantung that's the new clue?
     Pardon me N-guy, is that a cashew that our Chou chewed?  

    When you're out of slits, you're out of pier.
    
    Only Hugh can prevent florist friars.

    re:.24
    
    That's better rendered as
    
    Transporting a mynah across  a staid lion for imortal porpoises.
    
    (Some people get  upset about using "gulls"... birds over the age
    of sixteen weeks, or something...)

    It's the rambling racks of George of Saxony's elephant engineers.
    
    No, he's the chip monk; I'm the fish friar.

    "Shoot low, fellows; they're riding Shetlands!"
                        
    "Roll up your trousers.  It's too late to save your shoes!"

    re .19:
    
    Was that a form of sewercide?
    
    	Jon

    Did you hear about the pierside barbershop quartet?  They had a
    first tuna, a second tuna, a first bass, and a second bass, and they
    sang just for the halibut?

    Oh Beth, where is thy string?
    
    Suppertime, for all in tents and porpoises.
    
    It ain't [Eliot] Ness or Sara Lee.  Sew!
    
    Homely ewes can prevent forest fires.
    
    Don't hatchet your Counts before they chicken.

      "Coffee break's over; back on your heads."

    Hail to thee, Bligh's parrot; wert thou never Bert?
    
    You guys sure these are all strictly puns? There's a few of 'em
    in here that I frankly don't get.
    
    -John

    RE .36
    
    There's some I don't get, too.
    
    
    Maybe we're lucky?
    
    
    -bs

How could we ever forget...

If the foo sh*ts, wear it.

    The Ratives are nestless

Squawwwwk!!  Pieces of nine!  Pieces of nine!


Oops!  A parroty error!

--PSW

RE .20:

Speaking of Mel Famey, remember the catcher on the same team, Ralph "Beetle"
Barrs.  Great catcher, but not much of a hitter.  To get on base, he used to
crowd the plate and when the ball came anywhere near him, he'd fling himself
to the ground and writhe in agony as if hit by the pitch.  This worked for
a season or two, but after a while the umpires caught on and passed on the
word.  They called his act "the sham pain of Beetle Barrs."

Bye.

    Telling punchlines only reminds of the story about the joke tellers'
    convention. [Which isn't a bad idea ... maybe we should have one.]
    
    A non-joke teller (poor fellow) visited the joke teller's convention.
    As he looked in, somebody stood up and yelled out, "2583!" Everybody
    laughed.
    
    "Tell me," said the visitor to his host. "What is all this about?"
                                      
    "Well," said his host, "everybody knows all the jokes. So when someone
    tells one, to save time he just shouts out the number."
    
    Just then someone stood up and yelled, "3456!" But nobody laughed.
    
    "How come they didn't laugh at that?" asked the visitor.
    
    "Oh - he never could tell a joke right."
                                                            
    
    
    Just then another fellow got up, and yelled out, "8719!"
    
    The place went crazy. Everybody laughed so hard they fell off their
    chairs. Even the visitor's host couldn't keep from laughing. It went 
    on for 5 minutes.
    
    After things calmed down, the visitor asked his host why they laughed
    so hard at that one.
    
    "Oh," said his host. "Nobody heard that one before."
    
    -bs
    
     

    What's the loneliest bayou in Louisiana?
    
    The one by-you self.
    
    
    Bill

    Hear about the 3 strings that went into the ice cream shop
    for an ice cream cone?
    
    The 1st string goes to the counter and says, "Sir, may I please
    have an ice cream code?"  The man replies, "We don't serve strings
    here", and picks him up, crumples him all up, and throws him in the
    corner.
    
    The other 2 strings are now scared.  The 2nd string, however, 
    goes to get his ice cream cone, and suffers the same fate as the 1st.
    
    The 3rd string is now shaking, and as he walks up to the counter, he
    shakes so violently he makes a knot in himself.  He asks for his
    ice cream cone, and the man replies, "Are you one of them strings?"
    
    To which the string replies, "No, I'm afraid not"

    You have thoroughly misrepresented the third string.  He
    deliberately tied himself into a knot, and then carefully
    separated out his individual strands at both the top and
    the bottom.
    
    Thus, when the counterman asked him if he was a string, he
    could truthfully respond, "I'm a frayed knot."
    
    				Ann_who_heard_it_from_her_father

The people of Louisianna were so grateful to General Howe (an American
Revolutionary hero) that they named a swamp after him-- Howe's Bayou...

John Paul Jones also had a boat that was fatter and wider than the usual
one of its class, so it was known as a hunky dory.

He finally put a bell on it, making it a ringy-dighny...

    Another one -- what is the question to this answer:
    
    	9W.

    The question is:
    
    Excuse me Herr Wagner, but do you spell your name with a 'V' ?
    
    or more precisely, the above question should be asked in German.
    
    Dave

From: < Note 9.20 by LYMPH::LAMBERT "Sam Lambert" >
                          -< Father Goose PUNchlines >-

> No soap, radio.

I can't remember the story: can anyone help?

Martin.

    I don't remember where I read about it, perhaps in _Psychology Today_,
    but here goes:

    Some time during the 30's, 40's, or 50's, sociologists were
    interested in learning about social pressures to conform. One such
    situation was where someone in a group of people tells a "joke" that
    someone else does not understand. Will that person laugh, scratch
    his/her head, or ask for an explanation? The story in question has a
    purposely un-funny punch line.

    The setup of the story is something like this: a person in a group
    of people to whom the "trick" is already known tells the story to one
    or more newcomers. No matter what the newcomer does upon hearing the
    punch line, the rest of the group gets a big laugh.

    The story:

        Two elephants are taking a bath together. One leans over to the other
        and says, "Please pass the soap." The other replies, "No soap, radio."

    When the newcomer starts to laugh, the rest of the group laughs *at*
    the newcomer. 

    Sam

    Hmmm. So far I haven't seen the following - pardon if it's a duplicate.
    
    A cattle rancher had several sons, to whom he turned over the business.
    They promptly named the ranch "Focus", 'cause that's where the sons
    raise meat.

    
    re:-.1
    
    from Omni, this month, I believe, which had 2 pages of puns for
    our enjoyment.  This one was the most elegant in their view.

    I missed the Omni collection - I first saw .-2 in Reader's Digest,
    I think, perhaps 20 years ago. Good ones stick with you! The writer
    cited this one as being a "perfect triple pun", whatever that implies...

    re "perfect triple pun":
    
    where the sons raise meat
    where the sun's rays meet
    
    three words, each used with two different meanings and spellings.
    I don't think there is any other example of this type of pun.
    
    sm

[originally by Martin Gardner, I think]

   In the year 2051, a scientist is attempting to get through customs with
a very dangerous looking object.  The customs agent is refusing to let
him through until the scientist can convince him that the object is not a
weapon.  The object is a box 3 feet by 2 feet by 2 feet tall.  The top of
it is covered with sharp, nasty looking spikes.

   The scientist explains that before entering a hyperspace gateway, people
must stand on this device to get every last molecule of moisture off of their
boots.  (Moisture in a hyperspace gateway is not a pretty sight.)  The
customs agent doesn't believe a word of it.

  Finally, the exasperated scientist exclaims,


   "Dammit man, why don't you understand?  THESE are the tines that dry
    men's soles!!"

    What mythological skipper and his crew got along so well together
    that there was never a threat of mutiny?
    
    Jason and the Arguenots
    

    There is a vas deferens between men and women.


    
    Did you hear about the Indian chief who was glad that his two
    sons joined the Yacht Club?  He always wanted to see his red
    sons in the sail set.

Note 9.55 reminds me of another riddle, although there is no pun involved:

	Who is the worst infielder in English literature?

	"There is an Ancient Mariner, he stoppeth one of three..."

    A man went to the vet to find out how to keep the
    tweety birds from making nests in his horse's mane.
    
    The vet told him to sprinkle yeast over the mane.
    The man asked how that would help, and the vet said,
    
    "Yeast is yeast, and nest is nest,
     And never the tweet shall mane."

    Heard this one (just) on a TV comedy show:
    
    The first wrist-watch was invented by Alexander the Great.  Each
    morning he would tie a wet cloth around his wrist, then as the sun
    rose higher the cloth would gradually dry out.  He could then tell
    the hour of the day by just how damp the cloth was.
    
    They called it:
    
    
    
    
    Alexander's rag time-band.
    
    

I thought they spoke exclusively in slang...

Jason and the Argot nuts.

(Argot take a hike.)

BU

    Re .24:	... a little late; I'm new to this conference ...

>      re .20
      
>>The squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the other two squaws.

>   That was:
      
>   The squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws
>   on the other two hides.


    Sorry Dave, but that wasn't it either. It should have been:-

    "The squaw on the hide of the hippopotamus is equal to the sum of the 
     squaws on the other two hides."

    re: .61
    
    You must be writing that one from a tepee--it's getting a little
    in-tents...

    
    
    When an Alaskan glacier moved across a deep narrow fiord, entrapping
    sea mammals in the gradually desalinating water, scientists and
    naturalists who camped on the steep sides of the basin in an attempt
    at rescue, were soon followed by hordes of reporters and cameramen.
    For all, in tents, and porpoises, it became a media cirque.
    
    

    re .49
    
    This sounds like it is based on a real joke which goes like this:
    
    	Two nuns are taking a bath together.  One says to the other,
    	"Where's the soap?."  The other replies, "Yes it does, doesn't
    	it."

    
    re .58 -
    
    	No, no, it's:
    		"Yeast is yeast, and nest is nest,
    		 And never the mane shall tweet."
    
    					Tom

    
    Tell the world!
    
    	A pun is only good when it is bad
    		and only bad when it's good.
    
    Keep it up!
    
    
    						Tom

    A bun is the lowest form of wheat.
    
    
    
    

Seen on a recent trip ...

a city park dedicated to a former pillar of the community

Faux Park.
(Tweed Heads, NSW Australia)

    
    New singing group forming soon.
    Qualifications:
    
    	o  IQ below 80
    	o  Abstain from Coca-Cola
    
    Apples served before each performance.
    
    Name of Group:  Moron Tab 'n Apple Choir
    
    

    Reprinted without permission from the editorial page of _The Globe
    and Mail_, a major Canadian newspaper.
    
    HABEAS CORPUS
    
    Ashes to ashes, dust to dust is much too final for British peer
    Lord Avebury, a convert to Buddhism.  In a spirited attempt to cheat
    the grave, he has planned several options which would, as it were,
    recycle his remains through some living organism.
    
    His current favorit appears to be burial at sea, providing food
    for marine life --- though he did dally for a while with the notion
    of donating reusable parts to medicine while consigning the rest
    to London's Battersea Dogs' Home "to give the doggies a good meal."
    This is said to have been "indignantly rejected."
    
    Quite right. It would have been too much like casting earls before
    swine.

The science fiction writer Diane Duane got married last weekend.  After
the wedding, the couple went back to their hotel room.  Whereupon, her
husband asked her if she wanted to consumate their marriage.

"That sounds like a good idea," she said.

So he poured a can of beef boullion on her head.

    From my childhood (by memory):
    
    Ladels and jellyspoons,
    I come before you to stand behind you,
    And tell you something I know nothing about.
    
    Next thursday, which is Good Friday,
    There'll be a mother's meeting for fathers only.
    
    Where your best clothes if you haven't any,
    And if you can come,
    Please stay at home.
    
    Admission is free,
    Please pay at the door.
    Take a seat,
    And sit on the floor.
    
    It makes no difference where you sit,
    the man in the gallery is sure to spit.
    
    Thank you for your most unkind attention.
                                 

    
    
    When a recruiter inquired if I knew any UNIX, I replied that I did
    not associate with that type of person.  
    
    It went right over their head.
    
    
    

    Re .73:
>   When a recruiter inquired if I knew any UNIX, I replied that I did
>   not associate with that type of person.  
    
    Old joke, wrong punch line. What you should have replied was:


    Sorry, but I'm not cut out for that kind of work!    :^)

    Well my wife recently bought a duck, she was going to name it
    
    Count Drake-ula
    
    But I countered with
    
    Quackimoto, the Hunch Duck of Notre Dame.
    
    Well we decided to call it 
    
    Ducktor Who
    
    Of course he is the Ducktor played by
    
    Tom Draker.
    
    If we get another, I guess we can call it 
    
    A-Drake
    
    

    Re .-1:
    
    Q: Why did the mechanical duck stop working?
    A: Its quacksial cable broke.
    
    Ugh.

    In that case, is a Playboy model playing with a stacked duck?
    

    ... which will last unteal the end of time!
    
    -b

Did you hear about the duck trying to buy chap stick without any money ?
He told the clerk . . .







"Just put it on my bill".

    I've been taking a gander at these notes, and some of the replies
    are eggsasperating. 
    
    Re: .75 - That was the unkindest cut of all. 
    
    Remember: A duck that flies upside down quacks up.
    
    We had a light meal last night - roast duck and a beverage. I had
    quackers and milk.
    
    Then there was the goose that got on the subway (metro/whatever).
    By the time it got off three stops later, it had been peopled five
    times.
    
    -bs

    Eider like to add to this note, but I can't think of any more puns....
    

    These duck soup replies are receiving some pretty high MARX.

    Wood that this loonicy stopped.

    Have you taken a gander at this note? I'm through peking. Eider
    we get down to work, or we paddle like this forever. This drakonian
    lunacy must be pinned down.
    
    -bs

   And just what is the mallard with this discussion?  Or are you just
   trying to duck the issue?  Don't put "down" what you don't understand.
   
   I think it's going along swimmingly...
   
   -- Sam :-)

    Ortho ducks. Those are the ones that die after eating the grass
    from one's newly fertilized lawn?????
    

    Then there's the duck that took up guitar playing.
    
    
    Sort of a mandolin duck.
    
    ******
     
    
    Then there's the duck that flew from the MicroVAX to the 8600.
    
    
    He wanted upward migration.
    
    
    ****
    
    
    Then there's the duck that felt a shark biting his tail feathers.
    
    He turned around to peck the shark, and the shark bit off his head.
    
    
    Moral: Don't lose your head over a piece of tail.
    
    
    *****
    
    
    And don't forget the duck that fell in the can of red paint.
    
    
    He came out duck a l'orange.
    
    

    > And don't forget the duck that fell in the can of red paint.

    > He came out duck a l'orange.
    

    Sort of like the glass-maker who fell into his vat and made a
    spectacle of himself...

    RE: .74  "get it?"
    
    No, but I got the usual standard letter saying Digital was reviewing
    my qualifications.  
    
    

    Re .94
    
>    Sort of like the glass-maker who fell into his vat and made a
>    spectacle of himself...

    At least he didn't inhale, if he had he would of ended up with a
    pane in the stomach.
    
    

    re .94
    
    Now I know what crystal balls are.  BTW, if he passes gas, would
    he have a pane in the ...

    Re last couple:
    
    Since molten glass is _hot_, if he fell in, he'd really make an
    ash of himself.
    
    Steve Kallis, Jr.

    Reminds me of the butcher that backed into the meat grinder.

                                            
    He got a little behind in his work.
    
    -bs
    

re: He got a little behind in his work.
    
I thought that was why the secretary got fired from International Harvester a 
few years ago.

        Mike

    Or another copy......
    
    The cow that backed into the airplane propeller?
    
    Disaster, of course.......
    
    
    
    and then the same cow jumped the barbed wire fence to get away......
    
    Udder destruction!
    
    

    A pretty gull is like a mallardy...

What did the one-armed farmer milk his cow with?

His udder hand, of course.

M.

    I didn't know whether or not to enter this joke into the file, so
    I asked the Great Weevil.
    
    And he said:
              
    
              "DON'T ENTER THIS JOKE!!!"
    
    
    I wanted a second opinion, so I asked the Little Weevil.
    
    
    And he said:
    
    
    
              "enter the joke"
    
   
    So I entered this joke. 
    
    I always choose the lesser of two weevils.
    
    
    
    -bs
     

    I bet you rented those weevils from .....
    
    ..... the lessor of two weevils!
    

Re:    udders, cows

	A farmer was on a stool milking his cow (by hand) at the side of the
	road when a stroller stops by and asks what time it is.

	The farm gently lifts the full-bagged udder of the cow,  seemingly
	hefting it, peers at it, and mutters "3:05".

	Our friend finds this rather curious, and ponders it as he
	strolls along.

	His curiosity gets the better of him, and he strolls that
	way the next day and meets the same farmer milking same or
	similar cow.

	Stroller asks,

		"Excuse me, sir, I just couldn't resist wondering
	     	how you were able to tell me the time by merely hefting
		the udder of the cow!".

		"Well,"

	replies the farmer

		"... if you watch closely here, you'll notice that when I
		lift up the udder, you can see that steeple across the
		field there, and it plainly indicates that it is 3:15 !"

/Eric

    mlnois::harbig
                  Re .104
     
     >I always choose the lesser of two weevils.
    
      or as a Scotsman would say you always choose the wee weevil.
    
                   Max 

    Weevil is as weevil does.
    
    I guess this could turn into a bolling game.
    
    Steevil Kallis, Jr. [;-)]
    
    

    Weevil riddle:
    
    Who's the sexiest weevil in Hollywood?
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    Sigourney Weevil.
    
    Steve Kallis, Jr.

    Re .110 -- when I was at school, it was a bull, not a cow :-)

< Note 9.115 by LEDS::HAMBLEN >
                              -< WHA' HOPPEN'>-
	Do recent events in Washington remind you of a nursery rhyme?
	You remember...

		The North wind doth blow,
		And we shall have snow...
							Dave

    Heard on the radio yesterday (please excuse the hazy details):

    Some number (16?) of people tap-danced their way into the Guinness Book
    of World Records yesterday.  In San Francisco? they tap-danced for 6
    miles.  Oh, the agony of ... 

                                 defeet.

The bear went into the bar.  He stomped up to the bar and said to 
the bartender, "Gimme a beer."

The bartender said, "I'm sorry sir, we don't serve bears in this
bar."

"I'm a thirsty bear, and I want a beer, NOW!"

"Sorry, no.  We don't serve bears in this bar."

"I'm a thirsty bear, and if you don't give me a beer right now,
you'll be sorry!"

"No.  We don't serve bears in this bar!"

"See that woman down at the end of the bar?  Well, if you don't
give me a beer RIGHT NOW, I'm going to eat her up!"

"WE DON'T SERVE BEARS IN THIS BAR!"

The bear stood up on his hind legs, gave a great roar, charged down 
to the end of the bar and ate the woman up.  He sauntered back to 
the bartender and said, "Now, give me a beer, or I'll eat YOU up!"

The bartender said, "We don't serve drug addicts in this bar."

"What do you mean, drug addict?" snarled the bear.

"That was a barbituate!"

    --- jerry

    Pun-lovers should check out NOTE 959.* in UCOUNT::MOVIES --

    There are terrible puns galore on movie titles.

    Well it seems that there lived in Bally Go Backwards, County Cork,
    Ireland a certain contractor by name of Paddy O'Rourke.
    
    Now Paddy was quite a successful contractor who, like many a contractor,
    was not above cutting a few corners to make a few more pounds (The
    Irish use pounds also instead of dollars). One of his favorite ways
    to make a little go a long way was to water down the paint he used
    and then to sell it at full price.
    
    Recently Paddy won the contract to paint St Patrick's Cathedral
    and that was a really big contract so he figured to make a lot of
    money.
    
    Shortly after finishing the job, one of the worst thunderstorms
    on record hit town. It had barely passed throught when Paddy started
    receiving telephone calls suggesting he get down to St Patrick's
    as quickly as possible.
    
    Upon arriving he saw that the paint was coming off the wall in great
    sheets and the job just looked awful. As he was standing there
    astounded a gigantic lightning bolt split the air and the thunder
    rolled, the clouds parted and there was God looking down at Paddy.
    And God said to Paddy 
    
    "GO, REPAINT AND THIN NO MORE"
    

    Muckluck the Eskimo went out in his keyak
    to do some fishing.  Well, it was a very
    cold day, and he wasn't having much luck (8^),
    so he decided to start a fire.  He set ablaze
    the kindling he had in the front of the kayak,
    and he just started to feel the warmth in his
    hands, when...of course...the kayak caught fire.
    The Eskimo moral:
    
     - You can't have your kayak and heat it too.

    The Tomatoe family was hiking thru the woods one day,
    and little Baby Tomatoe was trailing way behind the others.
    So Daddy Tomatoe told everyone to stop, and walked back to
    where Baby Tomatoe was hurrying along, and stepped on him (!)
    and said:
    
    "Ketchup!"    

    Later, the besquashed baby tomatoe noticed their pet cat was asleep
    and he wanted to wake it, so he stepped on it, which startled the
    cat.
    
    He remarked:
    
    
    Catsup !

    ...And the kitty, being a vegetarian, decided to devour the little
    tomato[e] in the evening, making the baby a
    
    
    Cat sup.
    
    Steve Kallis, Jr.

    And even if poor baby tomato survived these attacks...

    He'd be a vegetable for the rest of his life.

    
    Lord,
    
    
    
    please asparagus from these terrible puns!
    jc
    

    AAARRRRGGGHHHHHH!
    
    It wasn't Al Capone, it was Roy Rogers -- and the guest asked:
    
    
    
    "Pardon me Roy, is that the cat who chewed your new shoes?"
    
    					andrew

Or....

 The famous detective  hero "The Shadow" had an oriental manservant called
Toy.  One of Toy's duties was to go out every day and buy a box of Finest
Quality Nougat, which was (of course) the only confection which the Shadow
allowed himself. Toy was not allowed to eat this treat; the finest qualities
of the candy were only for the taste buds of the master. 

 Then, one day, The Shadow came home unexpectedly early and found Toy
in the study eating something in a very furtive manner. The detective
challanged his manservant with the immortal phrase 


"Pardon me, Toy, is that the Shadow's Nougat you chew????"

    re -.1: Since we are being candy-d,
    
     Brutus once got a box of his favourite candy. Called away for a
    routine invasion before he was able to enjoy them, he left the box
    with his trusted friend Caesar. Being candy-lovers themselves, Julius
    and his friends could'nt resist the temptation, and ate one candy
    , and one more, and .. until it was all over. When Brutus returned
    and found the box empty, he flew into a rage, and drawing his dagger,
    stabbed Caesar. At which time Caesar said,
                     " (... but I only) ate two, Brutus !"

    Abraham Lincoln murdered!  By a woman!  The news flashed to London
    via arctic heliograph in a matter of hours.  Early the next morning
    Sherlock holmes and Dr. Watson boarded the dirigible for America.
    
    The Secret Service filled the great detective in as to the facts
    of the case.  A handsome, well-dressed woman had been seen standing
    behind the President in his box.  She took a pistol from her purse,
    fired one short, and fled.  Within minutes, the Secret Service had
    sealed all of the exits from Ford's Theater.  But, in spite of the
    most thorough search, the woman was not to be found.
    
    "There is nothing here for you, Holmes," said the head of the Secret
    Service.  "We know who the woman is.  She introduced herself to
    several members of the acting company earlier in the evening.  She
    said that her name was Trudy, and that she was the girlfriend of
    the famour actor John Wilkes Booth.  Booth, of course, never heard
    of her.  She used his name to gain entrance to the theater."
    
    "Well, Watson, we may as well return to London," said Holmes.
    
    "You're not giving up!" Watson exclaimed.
    
    "Hardly.  Ive solved the case."
    
    "Solved it!  How...?"
    
    "Come, Watson.  It's elementary.  Booth is Trudy and Trudy, Booth.
    That's all I know and all I need to know."

    		-- Rick Norwood
    
    		From "100 Great Fantasy Short Short Stories"

    After the unsuccessful colonial revolt, the British colonies in
    the New World were organized into the United States of Canada. 
    In time, this vast and peaceful nation grew to include the entire
    North American continent.  One of its most famous heroes was the
    Cisco Kid of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
    
    Strange reports were coming in from prospectors in the Yukon.  A
    new animal had been seen, a swift, elusive beast which the miners
    called a mouse-cat.
    
    What made the reports so remarkable was the news that the mouse-cat,
    unique among mammals, had three ears.  The Cisco Kid was sent to
    investigate.
    
    The Cisco Kid returned from the Yukon empty-handed.  The mouse-cat
    proved too shy and clever to be captured.  He had, however, observed
    the little animals closely, and he could vouch for the fact the
    they had not three ears by four!
    
    The controversy was referred to the Science Court, and in short
    order they handed down a verdict in favor of bilateral symmetry.
    "For," said the Chief Justice, "who are we to believe, the three
    mouse-cat ears or the count of Mounty Cisco?"
    
    		-- Rick Norwood
    
    		From "100 Great Fantasy Short Short Stories"

    There once was a benevolent king who was loved by all his
    subjects.  He'd frequently go hunting with them, and let them keep
    all the meat, after all, he was well provided.  The king died
    one day, and his son took over.  He hated game hunting, so he
    banned all hunting.  The people soon revolted and kicked him
    out.  This is the only known instance where...
    
    A reign was called on account of the game.

    I had heard that the old king's death was due to the love of his
    subjects! 

    They revered him so much that they collected much gold from the people
    and cast it into a great throne for the king. Since they were in a part
    of the world where the climate was always good, and the people lived in
    thatched houses and wore little clothing, the throne could be quite
    unpleasant to sit on. 

    After the clamor over the gift wore down, the king quietly hid the
    throne in the rafters of the great chiefs house. 

    In time the timbers weakened and the throne came crashing down and
    killed the king. 

    The moral of this story is:


    People that live in grass houses should never stow thrones.

    	Heard on Johnny Carson -
    
    "If Carmen Miranda had married Yves Montand, when she was doing
    her hair in the morning, would she be Carmen Miranda-Montand when 
    she combs?"
    
    Dick Martel

"The pun is the dung of the mind which soars.  The jest falls, no matter
where; and the mind after producing a piece of stupidity plunges into
the azure depths.  A whitish speck flattened against the rock does not
prevent the condor from soaring aloft.  Far be it from me to insult the
pun!  I honor it in proportion to its merits; nothing more.  All the most
august, the most sublime, the most charming of humanity, and perhaps
outside of humanity, have made puns.  Jesus Christ made a pun on St. Peter,
Moses on Isaac, �schylus on Polynices, Cleopatra on Octavius.  And observe
that Cleopatra's pun preceded the battle of Actium, and that had it not been
for it, no one would have remembered the city of Toryne, a Greek name which
signifies a ladle.  I repeat, brothers, I repeat, no zeal, no hubbub, no
excess; even in witticisms, gayety, jollities, or plays on words.  Listen
to me.  I have the prudence of Amphiara�s and the baldness of C�sar.
There must be a limit, even to rebuses.  �Est modus in rebus.�
				-- Victor Hugo, �Les Mis�rables, Fantine�
				   (Translator's name not given.)

    Mallards, ladies and gentlemen,
    
    This note is a weevil inducktrination to the art of punditry.
    
    
                -<Another Holmes and Watson>-
    
    Holmes and Watson returned to Holmes chambers on Baker Street one
    day to find a neatly wrapped package on the doorstep.
    
    They took it in and carefully unwrapped it and found a plant with
    small yellowy green fruits forming on it.
    
    "Holmes, what could this be?", asked Watson excitedly.
    
    "Elementary my dear Watson." replied holmes

    Re .-1
    
         a lemon tree?
    
    Dan

    Holmes : "I say Watson, why don't we have an exhibition?"
    
    Watson : "An exhibition! Ideal Holmes!!"
    
    
    
    Ian.

    
    	My favorite pun is:
    
    	"I have several wives, and it's bigamy to admit it."
    
    	Joe Oppelt
    

	Guess I never told you folks about the poet who lived long ago...
It seems that this minstrel was, unlike so many of that persuasion, quite
successful, so that he was able to keep his attire, including the socks
and shoes, in good repair.  This made him so unusual that he was 
universally known as....

			the No-holes Bard.    

    "Get off the stove, Grandma....
    
    		you're too old to ride the range."
    
    
    Dick Martel

    There was a travelling salesman who went to a hotel to spend a night.
    Everytime he drifted off to sleep he was awakened by a rap-rap-rap
    noise.  This went on for hours ... he searched the room, he searched
    the hallway, he looked outside ... he was just about to give up
    when he looked in the bottom drawer of the chest where he found
    the answer to his problem ...
    
    A roll of wrapping paper

    The version of .147 that *I* heard was:
    
    	Saddle the stove, Mother, we're riding the range tonight.
    
    							Ann B.

    So now that the first round of the French elections are over, most
    of the TV has devoted itself to interviewing the various candidates.
    President Mitterand was interviewed this morning over a working
    breakfast at the Elysee in Paris, whereupon the reporter asked,
    
    	"Mr Mitterand, why do you always have on boiled egg for
    	 breakfast ?"
    
    To which he replied,
    
    
    	"Oh, one egg is un oeuf"
    

    
  G'day, Re .146... and begging the story a little...
    
	Guess I never told you folks about the poet who lived long ago...
It seems that this minstrel was, like so many of that persuasion, quite
unsuccessful, so that he had to take a part-time job. Not being properly
    trained in anything else, but being reasonably fit, he took a job
    as a wrestler. Unfortunately, his wrestling was as bad as his poetry.
      This made him so famous that he was universally known as....
    
                         the no-holds Bard
    
   Derek
                                 
    

    Those of you who follow American baseball are no doubt aware
    that the Baltimore Orioles, poor fellows, have played something
    like 18 games and lost all of them.
    
    A TV announcer reports the following joke is making the rounds:
    
    Q:  How many Orioles does it take to change a tire?
    
    A:  Only one, unless it's a blowout, and then the whole team
        shows up.
    
    --bonnie

    Picture a bull that has just eatan a box full of TNT.  What is he called?
    
    
    
    Abominable.
    
    
    (A bomb in a bull)
    
    Now, how would describe the same scene after the explosion?
    
    
    
    Noble (No bull)
    
    -Dave

    Re .154 (Dave):
    
    >Now, how would describe the same scene after the explosion?
    >
    >
    >
    >Noble (No bull)
     
    Gee!  I'd have thought:
    
    
    Scramble.
    
    Steve Kallis, Jr.

    G'day,
    
    Sounds to me like the story about the chicken that learnt Karate
    and beat up a cow...
    
    It's a cock and bull story..
    j
    

                                 
   G'd'y, Derek  (re .152)

	That minstrel-fellow had a brother, I've heard, who was also in the 
bard business.  His most popular song concerned a fleet of ships that had 
no cargo storage areas.  So popular, in fact, that everyone associated the 
song with _him_, to the extent that they all called him...

 		the "No Holds" Bard
    
					.___             _
					|   \   /\ \  / [_
					!___/  /--\ \/  [__ o
						

    G'day,
    
    
    .....then there the low security 'open' prison..
    
    It's the one with
    
    
    No holes Barred
    
    How _awful_
    
    Derek
    

    Courtesy of USENET...
    
Newsgroups: rec.humor
Path: decwrl!labrea!agate!pasteur!ames!mailrus!tut.cis.ohio-state.edu!im4u!ut-sally!utah-cs!utah-gr!stride!tahoe!malc
Subject: Now it can be told
Posted: 19 Apr 88 09:19:49 GMT
Organization: Univ. of Nev., Reno-Mathematics
 
    It seems that William Tell, aside from being involved in such exploits
    as escaping across Lake Lucerne, and being able to shoot an apple off
    his kid's head with an arrow, was also one MEAN bowler.  In fact, he
    was so good that on occasion he was contracted out to secretly take the
    place of certain other bowlers in the leagues when large bets were on.
    The economic situation being what it was, Mr. Tell didn't mind a little
    money on the side. 
 
    It turns out that there was one particular Swiss nobleman who was an
    unusually poor bowler, and this gentleman made use of Mr. Tell's
    services in league matches quite often.  Finally, Tell more or less
    took this man's place in the league (no one being the wiser), and both
    men became quite wealthy as a result. 
 
    Much later, in the 1930's, Ernest Hemingway was doing some literary
    research in Bern when he more or less accidentally came across the
    diaries of this nobleman, which included a detailed account of the
    hitherto undiscovered arrangement between himself and Mr. Tell.  So
    fascinated was Hemingway with this man who had had such an effect on
    Tell's life, that he immediately began working on a book about the
    nobleman. 
 
    The book became a literary classic, selling millions of copies.  The
    title, of course, was... 
 

 
    "For Whom the Tell Bowls" 
 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
[email protected]			       University of Nevada, Reno
    

    Just to round this topic out, one from the inside....
    
    Many moons ago, I worked for HP, and they, like we, use code names
    for un-released products.  The wonderful people at the Desktop Computer
    Division spent more time working on the code names than they did
    on the products themselves.
    
    They invented a new digitising tablet which was code named Descartes,
    after Rene Descartes.  This product was very fancy, and very expensive,
    but sold well just the same.  Time and a half went by, and they
    needed a much larger version of the product.  They embarked upon
    the project to produce the famous A0 size digitiser.  But they couldn't
    think of a name.  Eventually, it became known as "De Horses", because
    it was clear that they had Descartes before De Horses.
    
    They also created the HP9845A Computer, which was called QWERT,
    because it was to be the first project of the division to use a
    "qwerty" style keyboard.  Again, when time came to make the much
    more powerful 9845B, they decided that it would be the flagship
    of the desktop range, and called in Galleon.  It had four times
    the memory, which was appropriate, because everybody knows that
    eight QWERTs make a Galleon.
    
    Now delivery of the product, well that was another matter...
    
    Bruce Gow

    We were sitting at lunch one day talking about one fellow's cat,
    whose name was "Simeon."
    
    "Yes, I named him after St. Simeon," said the owner.
    
    "Just who was St. Simeon, anyway?" asked someone.
    
    Before the owner could answer, someone else at the table allowed
    as how he was an early primate of the church.
    
    To this day, I still don't know who St. Simeon really was, nor do I
    care!
    
    Bill 

    I was driving through Connecticut with some friends.  Somehow, the topic
    turned to the Eulenspiegel Society, an organization of sado-masochists
    (really).  Somebody wondered what Till Eulenspiegel had to do with
    sado-masochism.  I replied, "Beats me."

    
    When my son complained of a sore shoulder last week, I asked him
    if he had been playing Super Mario Brothers that day. "Yes", he
    replied. 

    "Must be Nintendenitis"' I replied.
    

    From my nephew.
    
    What do you get when you roll a grenade across the kitchen floor?
    
    
    Linoleum Blownapart
    
    

    When Mary Poppins finished making the movie she moved to Los Angeles
    and  became quite a famous medium. She specialized in reading people's
    futures by their sniffing their breath. Naturally, the more pungent
    the odor the better the reading.
    
    The sign on her door read:
    
    
    Super California Psychic Expert Halitosis
    
    

    re .155
    
    His wife, a devout cow, saw her husband eating the TNT.
    
    Her last words to him also happened to be the title of the best-selling
    book of all time-
    
    Bye Bull
    
    

    A midget psychic escaped from that same prison.
    
    The police were looking for a
    
     Small Medium at Large
    

    G'day,
    since he has escaped, the midget willbe smiling???
    
    Now he's a 
    
    
    happy medium?
    
    
    djw
    

    Zelazny wrote an interesting SF type book a number of years ago
    called "Lord of Light".  Anyway, he went out of his way to create
    a character called "the Shan".  At the close of the chapter an episode
    occurs where the character has an epilptic attack.  The ending pun
    was :
    
    	And that's when the fit hit the Shan.....

>   happy medium?

        Then if you punch him in the nose you would...

        	strike a happy medium.

    
    I believe it was The Good Doctor (Asimov) who wrote a long, rambling 
    SF story which was written wholly for the purpose of setting up
    a terrible pun in the last line which is meaningless without the
    story, so I won't bother)
    The title of the story, though, was a clue.  In the narrative, one
    of the characters was called Guido.  His second name was very long,
    and began with G, so people called him "Guido G."  He ruled, in
    the manner of a near-eastern Shah, so he was known as "Shah Guido
    G."
    Hence,  a "Shah Guido G story".    Aaaggggh !
    
    Ian

When the position of church bell ringer became vacant, an
ad was placed in the paper.  To the surprise of the commitee
in charge of hiring a bellringer, the first man to apply
had no arms!  "How can you ring the bell with no arms?," they
asked. "Watch this!", he replied, and with that he ran as fast
as he could toward the bell and clanged it with his face.  The
sound it made was so beautiful that they hired him on the spot.

He worked successfully at his job for many years until one day,
as he was running face-first toward the bell, he lost his footing,
slipped, and fell from the bell tower to his death many stories below.
A crowd soon gathered at the gruesome sight. "Who is it?", one asked.

"I'm not sure," answered another, "but his face rings a bell."

Alas, the commitee began their task again to find a replacement.
When, who should appear on the first day, but the dead man's brother!
Also with no arms!  After he gave one demonstration of the beautiful
sound he could make with his face, he was hired immediately.  He too
worked successfully for many years, until one day he too, by a horrible
coincidence, slipped and fell to his death.

Again the same gruesome scene.  Again the questions. "Did you know
him?", asked one.

"Yes," came the answer, "and he's a dead ringer for his brother..."

I hope no one was offended by the last joke.
It was meant to be 'armless.

    Re: Taking offense.
    
    "Hey! no problem, to each his own", at least that's my quasi-motto.

   -< Ask not who the bells toll for... >-
    
    Don't you mean:
    
    "Ask not for whom the bell tolls..."
    
    :_)

>>    -< Ask not who the bells toll for... >-
>     Don't you mean:
>    "Ask not for whom the bell tolls..."
    
      No that's not what I meant, that's what Poe meant. :-)
      As for what the people said when they saw the flattened bell
      ringer on the pavement, "Hey look, a tollhouse cookie !" (yeck!)

Poe?

    Poe?  He obviously hasn't Donne his homework....
    
    -Jody
    

    Your Bacon is not well-Donne.

    /petes

< Note 9.179 : -< Not right yet >-

According to my Bartlett's. it is indeed Donne.

As for me, I always thought it was Hemingway (but it's just
his book title, not an original quote)

    Donne did it.  The full quote is rather nice, and it spawned more than
    one book title:
    
    	No man is an Island, entire of it self; every man is a piece
    	of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away
    	by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were,
    	as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were;
    	any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind;
    	And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It
    	tolls for thee.
    
    Bernie

    I dunno....Europe could use a few less clods and not suffer....
    ;)
    
    (of course, I'm not talking about anybody within earshot, right?)
    
    -Jody
    

    New Hampshire could spare a few, too . . .
    
    --bonnie

    Re: clods...

    I realized this morning on the way in that it was Donne, and it's out
    of (at the risk of being wrong twice) Meditation 17 (19?).

    I guess the old "Donne" matter is not what it used to be.


    /petes

    What has that got to do with the price of Buffalo meat.??
    
    What you say is true ....but.....Whay are they sitting by the river??
    

    Campeau Corporation has accumulated a mountain of debt through takovers
    of other companies.  The stock price has been taking a beating because
    of their inability to reduce the debt burden.
    
    Recent headline in the Toronto Star:
    
    	"Campeau's Stock Falls on Debt Fears".

    Speaking of the duck jokes whose frequency has gone down...
    
    Did you hear about the physicist who was reincarnated as a mallard?
    
    He went around saying "Quark, quark."

An inmate was transferred to another prison.  The other inmates disclosed
a way one could shorten their sentence: all one had to do was successfully
woo the Warden's wife.

The new inmate thought about it but had finally decided against it because 
he knew it was wrong to end his sentence with a proposition.


8^)

    Re 9.37
    
    And the sequel which comments that 'any seal can plainly foo'

    Alex Beam in the Boston Globe yesterday came up with a term for the bird
    watchers of Mount Auburn Cemetery:
    
    ornithanatologists
    

    Whaddaya call philosophers who do not believe in the existence of
    navels?
    
    (ok, so it *IS* fairly easy...)
    
    omphaloskeptics
    

    BTW in the old unabridged Omphalaskepsis is defined as "Contemplation
    of ones naval"

     (This from the glossary to "Jane's Fighting BodyParts," one assumes?)
    

    ... for this gem, courtesy of my Brother-in-Law Charles, a physician at
    Mass. General Hospital, who recently returned from a vacation trip to
    Turkey with his wife & kids.  So taken were they by the entire
    experience that they have fairly well convinced my wife & me that that
    should be our next vacation destination.  So they invited us over to
    their house for an anniversary dinner...  with one of the assumed major
    topics of conversation to be their slides & scrapbooks from their
    trip, so we could begin our planning.  So as usual when we get
    together, we asked them what they wanted us to bring as our
    contribution to the communal feast.
    
    So Charles sez... and I know he hadn't planned this beforehand, because
    of the timing...:  "Well, why don't you bring along something
    hors-d'oeuvre-ish...  no, on second thought, given we'll be talking
    about Turkey, make that something WHIRLING-hors-d'oeuvre-ish...  OK?"
    
    After I picked myself up from ROTFL, I agreed we'd bring something on
    skewers, that is at least fit to be twirled...
                              

    Here's a little-known fact:  The particular sect of Islam known in the
    West as the "whirling dervishes" had one of its strongest
    instantiations in Turkey.  A fact that, as it happens, we had discussed
    when we met Charles & family at the airport upon their return...
    
    If memory serves, "dervish" is a westernization of an old Farsi or
    Indic root meaning something like "traveling religious beggar,"
    somewhat like Buddhist monks.  The Dervishes' "thing" was dancing,
    often involving whirling around for long periods of time to rhythmic
    music, which induced in them a form of religious meditation.  
    
    I hope my dervation of the etymology is correct.  If not, I bet there's
    a lot of twirling-in-the-grave going on, Oy vey Izmir.
    
    

For me, to get the pun-coefficient up to an average level, I have to adjust the
pronounciation of 'hors d'oeuvre' to something extremely un-French.

Or else 'whirling hors d'oeuvre-ish' .ne. 'whirling horse derwish'

                                                        
                                                  - Rik -

    Agreed.  I think that Dan must have a few too many spare cycles at the
    moment to come up with these extravagances.
    
    /Chris.
    

    Few too many spare cycles, indeed.  Hermph.  :-)
    
    Well at least in General American Accent, which I'm told I have, one
    pronounces "hors d'�uvrish" (or, d'�uvre-ish if you prefer those
    graphemes) "oar dervish".  With possibly a grace-note of an 'r'
    sneaking in there ante-"ish"-ally.
    
    Too many spare cycles, indeed.  Hermph!!!!!! :-) :-)
    

    Re .195
    
    According to the AHD:
    
    "... a dervish is really the Moslem equivalent of a monk or friar, the
    Persian word darveesh, the ultimate source of dervish, meaning
    "religious mendicant." The word is first recorded in English in 1585."

    Too many spare cycles, HERMPH.
    
    I'll get you for that, C'est L'Heure, & your little dog, Ptui.
    
    Now, where WAS that receipt for "Hors d'�uvres du Chien (au pipi)???"
                   

    G'day,
    
     ... and since they (hors. D...) are frequently referred to as Horses'
    doovers, in my family, even the meal component takes on a whole new
    twist...
    
    
    (personally, I liked the pun(sp?)  ...
    
    derek
    

    	I guess one has to know how French words are pronounced in American.
    It took Dan's explanation for me to get the pun. Maybe I would have
    gotten it on the spot if I had heard it rather than read it...
    		Denis.

    whoaa!!
    
    "Receipt"??   I hope that this is another francophone word-play
    otherwise it would appear that the putative canine culinary transaction 
    has already been consumated.
    
    "au-pipi"?????  - shudder to think.
    
    /Chris/

    "Consumated"?  Hardly, and hardly putative, Chris...  
    
    ... more like:
    
     Consumed & consomm�ted
    
    Delizioso!!  
    
    BTW, it's my impression that "receipt" is the olde Englishe form whence
    "recipe" evolved.  Izzis true, o greater authorities?
    
    Finally, Chris, no indeed, no hard feelings.  I would feign stop my
    putative dudgeon... :-)
    

    Re .204
    
    Receipt is a not-all-that-ancient form of recipe.  Both words are
    derived from the Latin verb recipio/recipere/recepi/receptus, which
    means to take or receive.
    
    Receipt comes from the perfect participle receptus, meaning literally
    "having been taken."  Recipe, on the other hand, is an exact transport
    of the second-person singlar indicative infinitive; it is a command
    that <whatever> be taken, and it is where the Rx on prescriptions comes
    from as well.