Conference thebay::joyoflex

    Then there was the <pace_national_prejudices> Red Indian with three
    wives.  Two wives slept on buffalo hide, and the third on the hide
    of a hippo.  In time each of them produced fine young children.
    One of the buffalo hide sleepers had a baby boy, and one a baby
    girl.  The third wife had twins, a boy and a girl, apparantly because
    of Pythagoras...
    

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

    G'day,
     ... and the medicine man who tried to cure an illness by having his
    patient eat a 3 foot long strip of leather. After some time, the
    leather was eaten, but the patient was still ill - or as the patient
    described it..
    
    The thong is over, but the malady lingers on...


    Then of course the native king and queen who bought a couple of VERY
    large armchairs from which to rule their tribe. Unfortunately when the
    chairs arrived by Pickfords, the K&Q discovered that while they were
    great for ruling from during the day, there was nowhere to put them at
    night. The medicine-person ;-) suggested they haul the chairs into the
    roof at night, and this they duly did. Unfortunately during one night
    in the wet season, the weight of the chairs became too much for the 
    hut roof and the chairs fell down, onto the K&Q who were sleeping
    below, and killed them. This proves that people who live in grass
    houses should not stow thrones....
    
    derek
    

    Re: <<< Note 745.1 by WELMT2::HILL "Technology is my Vorpal sword" >>>

    I will claim to have invented this pun. At least, I conceived of it
    independently of having heard it elsewhere. Furthermore, my version
    was slightly more robust:
    
    There was an Indian chief with three wives. The first made her bed on
    a buffalo skin, the second on an antelope skin and the third on the
    skin of a hippopotamus, purchased from an itinerant merchant, no
    doubt.
    
    It came to pass that the first wife became pregnant and delivered a
    fine baby boy. The chief then approached the third wife and proceeded
    to impregnate her. In time, she too delivered a baby boy. Meanwhile
    the second wife also rewarded (?) her husband with a boy. Again, the
    third wife was impregnated as soon as she was able (this was
    determined by the chief) and delivered her second son. During her
    second pregnancy, wife One delivered twin boys. When the third wife gave
    birth to a *girl*, the chief became very aggitated and informed her
    that she must produce three male offspring ASAP and why didn't they
    get right to work on it?
    
    In spite of the fact that the third sqaw had never even heard of
    Betty Friedan or any of those folks, she knew that she was being
    jerked around royally. Her man was a chief, after all. She balked.
    
    "No," she said.
    
    "But," said the chief, "didn't you know? The squaw on the
    hippopotamus must equal the sons of the squaws on the other two
    hides."
    
    That very day, she traded hides with one of the other wives.
    

    This note is verging on the dreaded "shaggy dog" jokes.
    
    To reduce the joke to the minimum, here are the punchlines
    to some shaggy dog jokes (you'll just have to imagine the
    long involved story that leads up to the line):
    
    1. The beer that made Mil Famey walk us.
    2. When you're out of slits, you're out of pier.
    3. Transporting women across staid lions for immoral porpoises.

    I had heard of transporting young gulls across state lines for immortal
    porpoises, but that is presumably a different lead-up.

    And as the porpoise delivered the ailing sea creature to the shark
    he said,
    
    "Here's the sick squid I owe you." 

As hinted at in .4, for more shaggy dog stories (or are they the same) ...

    Don't forget the butcher who backed into the meat grinder.
    
    [Press RETURN, dummy]
    
    
    
    He got a little behind in his work.

    The butcher wasn't as bad off as the lady who backed into the airplane
    propeller.
    
    [Press RETURN again!]
    
    DIS-ASS-TER!

    And the butcher's assistant who got caught in the bacon slicer.
    
    
    They were both fired.

    Re .10
    �                  -< They'r getting worse, and older >-
    
    You're right, these butcher jokes are the wurst.  Maybe we should just
    moove along to something else.
    
    >Mark
    

re: .10, .11

So what's your beef?  Just because they are older than a sow's_age, it doesn't 
mean that they aren't in their prime.  In fact they are a good choice if you 
want to ham it up.  To be frank, I think your suggestion is a missteak.  You 
may want to chuck it, but others might stand in loin to have their ribs 
tickled.

I'll go out on a lamb and say that it's a rare person who doesn't enjoy a 
well-done butcher joke.

I'm not saying that you should just sit there and stew; you could find out who 
started this line of puns and suet.

Clay    

    The butcher and his assistant came upon a lightning bug that had
    backed into an electric fan. They asked whether he enjoyed the
    experience and the bug replied,
    
    
    
    "I was de-lighted; no end!"

    About a thousand years ago, just after breakfast, Mrs Red was washing
    up and turned to her husband, Eric The, and said,
    
    "I've had enough!  Until you get me a stainless steel sink you're
    banned from the house."
    
    "A what?  Stainless steel hasn't even been invented!  So where do
    I get one of those?" said Eric.
    
    "That's your problem.  I suggest you get your men together and go
    off on a raiding party across the North Sea.  And mind you don't
    come back 'til you've got one."
    
    So Eric and his men set off towards England.  They landed near
    Colchester and Eric said they should collect *everything* they could,
    to sift through and see if they could find a stainless steel sink.
    
    Two days later they were sorting all their booty out, down on the
    beach.  Suddenly, Eric, who was holding a toasting fork he'd found,
    pointed across the heap.
    
    "What's that?"
    
    "I don't know," said his lieutenant, "I found it on a building site.
     They apparently use them to carry bricks."
    
    "Right, that's it, we'll take this fork, and that thing.  When we
    get home, I'll go into the house first and poke Mrs Red's eyes out
    with the fork.  Then you bring that in."
    
    "But Eric, this isn't a stainless steel sink.  So how'll we get
    a way with it?"
    
    "No problem, because a hod's as good as a sink to a blind Norse."

    
    re: .-1
    
    Oh. I thought you were going to set up for:
    
    "Eric the Red knows rain, dear"
    
    -- Glinch

    One year Germany had a terrible problem with mongrel dogs
    breeding profusely and roaming the country in large packs.
    One afternoon, a pack of dogs surrounded and entered a
    paper factory through the shipping dock.  A frightened
    employee telephoned officials for help, saying:
    
    o/~ The mill is alive with the hounds of Munich."~\o

re .4,.5

The version I heard was a combination of those two, but with different
birds:

... He was immediately arrested on the spot for tranportation of minahs
across staid lions for immortal porpoises.

Dave C.

    oh man, I love this particular note.  Let's get it going again.
    
    Speaking of cats, (how's that for changing the subject?) I have heard
    that they are a very bad problem down in southern Tennessee.
    I had heard about this guy named Roy who had a second floor walkup.
    
    He had constant problems with stray cats making noise and destroying
    his property at night.  In particular, one night he put his new pair of
    wing-tips, freshly polished, on his window sill to dry.  The next
    morning, they were all scratched and mangled.  It was obvious from the
    teeth marks on the shoes that one of his feline friends had done this.
    Roy was outraged and went to his neighbor downstairs to tell him what
    had happened and ask if the cat was his.  The neighbor said no.
    
    That night, he lay in wait for the strays with his trusty shotgun.  He
    put some more bait on the window sill and sure enough, along came this
    large cat and proceeded to attack the bait.  Well, old Roy let him have
    both barrels of that shotgun, and the cat dropped to the pavement
    below.  Roy ran down stairs and was examining the remains of the
    perpetrator when his neighbor ran up to him and excitedly said.
    "Pardon me Roy, Is that the Cat-that-chewed your new shoes?"
    
    As Jimmy Durante would say..."I got a million of em"