Edge of the sea Jokes - page 2

wackiness in the workplace

“How to Keep the Wackiness Alive in the Modern Workplace, Part I” ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Put a chair facing a printer, sit there all day and tell people you’re waiting for your document. Arrive at a meeting late, say you’re sorry, but you didn’t have time for lunch, and you’re going to be nibbling during he meeting. During the meeting, eat 5 entire raw potatoes. Insist that your e-mail address be “[email protected]” Every time someone asks you to do something, ask him/her…

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Driving in China

I have always been a critic of Seattle driving, but recently I had a chance to see how others drive in far away countries, such as China. Since then, I have developed a profound respect for how we drive here in the Northwest. Why? What could be so bad about the driving in China? Here is a collection of short observations I have made riding in the Great Country of China. While Driving in China……………………… Traffic signals are (how should…

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It’s in the iron

Off the seventh tee, Doug sliced his shot deep into a wooded ravine. He took his eight iron and clambered down the embankment in search of his lost ball. After many long minutes of hacking at the underbrush, he spotted something glistening in the leaves. As he drew nearer he discovered that it was an eight iron in the hands of a skeleton. Doug called out to his friend, “Carl, I’ve got trouble down here!” “Whats the matter?” Carl asked…

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Contacting Grandma

A woman goes to the local psychic in hopes of contacting her dearly departed grandmother. The psychic’s eyelids begin fluttering, her voice begins warbling, her hands float up above the table, and she begins moaning. Eventually, a coherent voice emanates, saying, “Granddaughter? Are you there?” The customer, wide-eyed and on the edge of her seat, responds, “Grandma? Is that you?” “Yes, Granddaughter, it’s me.” “It’s really, really, you, Grandma?” the woman repeats. “Yes, it’s really me, Granddaughter.” The woman looks…

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The Sixth Sense?

A woman goes to the local psychic in hopes of contacting her dearly departed grandmother. The psychic’s eyelids begin fluttering, her voice begins warbling, her hands float up above the table, and she begins moaning. Eventually, a coherent voice emanates, saying, “Granddaughter? Are you there?” The customer, wide-eyed and on the edge of her seat, responds, “Grandmother? Is that you?” “Yes granddaughter, it’s me.” “It’s really, really you, grandmother?” the woman repeats. “Yes, it’s really me, granddaughter.” The woman looks…

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