OK Boomer
Edit: well holy fuck 7 upvotes and I got my first gold. Not sure what I’ll do with it. But thank you kind stranger.
Thứ Bảy, 9 tháng 11, 2019
I was having an argument with my friend the other day
He was saying that I didn't understand what irony was!
Which was ironic as we were both waiting for a bus at the time.
Thứ Sáu, 8 tháng 11, 2019
An engineer who having worked for several years, decided that he and his family should have a weekend getaway place.
He searched the surrounding country, and found a lovely spot with frontage on a small river. They built a cabin, and began spending time there every chance they got. The kids loved it, and friends came for the quiet and fishing.
The engineer, however, wanted something unique for his cabin. He had been an award-winning pole vaulter in college. He therefore built a set of poles with a crosspiece, and a mulched run. He bought a new carbon fiber vaulting pole, new shoes, and was set.
He would set off down the run, plant his pole, soar over the crosspiece, and land in the river with a satisfying splash. What a great way to spend a hot afternoon. He tried to teach a few friends to vault, with no success.
He enjoyed his cabin for years, and went out early in the spring one year. It had been a very wet winter, lots of rain afterward. When the family arrived, the river was up and flowing at a good clip, with twice the usual current flowing.
The engineer was determined to enjoy a few vaults into the water, although his wife didn't think it was safe. But he was a good swimmer and proceeded to have a go at it.
His run and jump were flawless, he hit the water in good form, but upon surfacing, he was swept downstream and disappeared. His body was found later that day, tangled in streamside debris.
It was a sad end for the engineer and the family sold the cabin, with no desire to return to the scene of such tragedy.
Our lamented engineer was a civil engineer. Had he consulted one of his electrical engineer brethren, he would have been warned that "It's not vaultage that kills you, it's the current!"
The Jones didn't have any children and decided to use a proxy father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Jones kissed his wife and said, "I'm off, honey. The man should be here soon."
Half an hour later, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell with the hopes of making a sale.
"Good morning madam. You don't know me but I've come to....."
"Oh, there's no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Jones cut in.
"You have?" the photographer asked. "Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies."
"That's exactly what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?" asked a blushing Mrs. Jones.
"You just leave everything to me," he replied. "Usually, I try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out."
"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for George and me," stated Mrs. Jones.
"Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. However, if we try several different positions, and I shoot from five or six angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."
"I certainly hope we can get this over with quickly," gasped Mrs. Jones.
"Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I would love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure."
"Don't I know!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus in the downtown area," he proudly declared.
"Oh my word!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed.
"And these twins turned out exceptionally well, considering the fact that their mother was so difficult to work with," he said, handing Mrs. Jones the photograph.
"She was difficult?" Mrs. Jones asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Central Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing and shoving to get a good look."
"Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Jones, her eyes the size of saucers.
"Yes," said the photographer. "And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. It was very difficult for me to concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in."
"You mean they actually chewed on your, umm, equipment?" Mrs. Jones asked.
"That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work."
"Tripod?" asked a very worried Mrs. Jones.
"Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action."
"Madam, madam? Good Lord, she's fainted!"
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