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The Friday Aggravate 31st March 2006

Just watch it! The “Laird of Mariah” has struck


early.

The Newlyweds
A couple had only been married for two weeks. The
husband, although very much in love, couldn't wait
to go out on the town and party with his old
buddies.
So, he said to his new wife, "Honey, I'll be right
back. "Where are you going, Coochy Coo?" asked
the wife. "I'm going to the bar, Pretty Face. I'm
going to have a beer." The wife said, "You want a
beer, my love?" She opened the door to the
refrigerator and showed him 25 different kinds of
beer, brands from 12 different countries. The
husband didn't know what to do, and the only thing that he could think of saying was,
"Yes, Lollipop.. but at the bar... you know... they have frozen glasses... "
He didn't get to finish the sentence, because the wife interrupted him by saying, "You
want a frozen glass, Puppy Face?" She took a huge beer mug out of the freezer, so
frozen that she was getting chills just holding it. The husband, looking a bit pale, said,
"Yes, Tootsie Roll, but at
the bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious...I won't be long. I'll be
right back. I promise. OK?"
"You want hors d'oeuvres, Poochie Pooh?" She opened the oven and took out 5 dishes of
different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in blankets, mushroom caps, and pork
strips. "But my sweet honey.. at the bar....you know there's swearing, dirty words and all
that..."
"You want dirty words, Cutie Pie?.. "LISTEN UP CHICKEN SHIT, SIT YOUR ASS
DOWN, SHUT THE HELL UP, DRINK YOUR BEER IN YOUR FROZEN MUG AND EAT
YOUR HORS D'OEUVRES BECAUSE YOUR MARRIED ASS ISN'T GOING TO A
DAMNED BAR! THAT SHIT IS OVER, GOT IT, JACKASS?"
and, they lived happily ever after.
Happiness lies in the joy of achievement and the thrill of creative effort.

Ron’s lament.

It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for
them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you
notice this, try not to yell at them.. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse
than an oversensitive woman.
My name is Ron......Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Julie. When I
took "early retirement" last year, it became necessary for Julie to get a full-time job,
both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she
started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from
the golf course about the same time she gets home from work. Although she knows how
hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she

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starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me
when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club
so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home cooked grub when I hit that
door. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual
for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by
diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean
themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get
them done before she goes to bed.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is
difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys,
we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to
stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I
also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you
know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points. When doing simple
jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She
had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a
scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed
lemonade and just sit for a while.. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may
as well make one for me too. I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I
support Julie. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will
find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how
frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little
more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider
that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each
other...

Signed, Ron

EDITOR'S NOTE: Ron died suddenly on October 3rd last. He was found with a Calloway
extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II rammed up his most beneficial orifice, with only
2 inches of grip showing. His wife Julie was arrested, but the all-woman Supreme Court
Jury accepted her defence that he accidentally sat down on it rather suddenly.

She told me we couldn't afford beer anymore and that I'd have to quit. Then I caught
her spending $65 on make-up and I asked how come I had to give up stuff and not her.
She said she needed the make-up to look pretty for me. I told her that was what the
beer was for. I don't think she's coming back.
--
George W Bush has declared war on birdflu! The US has declared war on Turkey and
the Carery Islands. Let's hope he has never heard of Birdsville...
--
News from London: The latest craze with clubbers is to fill a woman's vagina with vodka
and drink it out of a straw. Experts are now warning of the dangers of minge drinking.

THE MAN AND THE OSTRICH ( Susan E )


A man walks into a restaurant with a full-grown ostrich behind him.
The waitress asks them for their orders.

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The man says, "A hamburger, fries and a coke," and turns to the ostrich, "What's
yours?"
"I'll have the same," says the ostrich.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order.
"That will be $9.40 please," and the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact
change for payment.
The next day, the man and the ostrich come again and the man says, "A hamburger, fries
and a coke."

The ostrich says, "I'll have the same." Again the man reaches into his pocket and pays
with exact change.
This becomes routine until the two enter again. "The usual?" asks the waitress.
"No, this is Friday night, so I will have a steak, baked potato and a salad," says the man.
"Same," says the ostrich.

Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, "That will be $32.62."
Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress cannot hold back her curiosity any longer.
"Excuse me, sir. How do you manage to always come up with the exact change in your
pocket every time?"
"Well," says the man, "several years ago I was cleaning the attic and found an old lamp.
when I rubbed it, a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes. My first wish was that if
I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right
amount of money would always be there."
"That's brilliant!" says the waitress. "Most people would ask for a million dollars or
something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!"
"That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always
there," says the man.
The waitress asks, "What's with the ostrich?"
The man sighs, pauses and answers, "My second wish was for a tall chick with a big ass
and long legs who agrees with everything I say. Tell me that guy wasn’t skating on thin
ice.”

A different slant on an old theme.

You’ve gotta Be Over 40 to Understand

Mum used to cut chicken, slice eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board with the
same knife and no bleach, but we didn't get food poisoning.

My Mum used to defrost mince-meat on the kitchen sink AND I used to eat a bite raw
sometimes, too. Our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper, in a brown paper bag,
not in icepack coolers, but I can't remember anybody getting e.coli.

Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool
(talk about boring), no beach closures then.

The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager was the
school PA system.

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We all played sport, and also did PE... and risked permanent injury with a pair of Dunlop
runners (only worn in the gym or the sports ground) instead of having cross-training
athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built-in light reflectors.. I can't recall any
injuries but they must have happened, because they tell us how much safer we are now...

Flunking sport was not an option.... even for stupid kids! There were not many fat kids.

Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the National Anthem and got free school
milk for strong bones and teeth, and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of
negative attention. We must have had horribly damaged psyches.

What an archaic health system we had then. Remember school nurses? Ours wore a hat
and everything, and she could even give you an aspirin for a headache or fever.

I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud
of myself. I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station,
Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations.

Oh yeah..and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting? I
could have been killed!

We played 'king of the castle' on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites, and
when we got hurt, Mum pulled out the 48-cent bottle of Mercurochrome (kids liked it
better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our hair ruffled and got
told to get back out there! Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day
dose of a $49 bottle of antibiotics, and then Mum calls the Solicitor to sue the
contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it was such a threat.

We didn't misbehave at the mate's house either, because if we did, we got our bum
smacked there, and then we got bum belted again when we got home. I recall Donny
Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front veranda, just
before he fell off. Little did his Mum know that she could have owned our house.
Instead, she picked him up and belted him for being such a yobbo.

It was a neighbourhood run amuck.

To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a
"dysfunctional family". How could we possibly have known that we needed to get into
group therapy and anger management classes? We were obviously so duped by so many
societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac!
How did we ever survive?

LOVE TO ALL OF US WHO SHARED THIS ERA, AND TO ALL WHO DIDN'T----
SORRY FOR WHAT YOU MISSED. I WOULDN'T TRADE IT FOR ANYTHING

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Now our “Laird of Mariah” is a smart cookie, and has the Australian ethos on work
practices down pat. After reading the next article you would have to wonder if
Australian Telco Companies have been the target of this parable.

The Canoe Race:" A Modern Parable"-


A Japanese company (Toyota) and an Australian company (Holden) decided to have a
canoe race on the Yarra River. Both teams practiced long and hard to reach their peak
performance before the race.
On the big day, the Japanese won by a mile.
The Australians, very discouraged and depressed, decided to investigate the reason for
the crushing defeat. A management team made up of senior management was formed to
investigate and recommend appropriate action. Their conclusion was the Japanese had 8
people rowing and 1 person steering, while the Australian team had 8 people steering and
1 person rowing. So Australian management hired a consulting company and paid them a
large amount of money for a second opinion.
They advised that too many people were steering the boat, while not enough people were
rowing. To prevent another loss to the Japanese, the rowing team's management
structure was totally reorganized to 4 steering supervisors, 3 area steering
superintendents and 1 assistant superintendent steering manager. They also
implemented a new performance system that would give the 1 person rowing the boat
greater incentive to work harder. It was called the "Rowing Team Quality First
Program", with meetings, dinners and free pens for the rower. There was discussion of
getting new paddles, canoes and other equipment, extra vacation days for practices and
bonuses.
The next year the Japanese won by two miles.
Humiliated, the Australian management laid off the rower for poor performance, halted
development of a new canoe, sold the paddles, and cancelled all capital investments for
new equipment. The money saved was distributed to the Senior Executives as bonuses
and the next year's racing team was outsourced to India!!!!

A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are
designated as either masculine or feminine.

"House" for instance, is feminine: "la casa."

"Pencil," however, is masculine: "el lapiz."

A student asked, "What gender is 'computer'?"

Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and
female, and
asked them to decide for themselves whether "computer" should be a masculine or a
feminine noun.

Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.

The men's group decided that "computer" should definitely be of the feminine gender
("la computadora"), because:

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1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;

2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is


incomprehensible to everyone else;

3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later
retrieval; and

4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your pay
cheque on accessories for it.

(THIS GETS BETTER!)

The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine ("el
computador"), because:

1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;

2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves;

3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the
problem; and

4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you
could have gotten a better model.

The women won. (This has to be a sexist commentary.)

Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighbouring
kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur's youth and ideals.
So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult
question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, if after a year, he still
had no answer, he would be put to death.

The question: "What do women really want?'. Such a question would perplex even the
most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since
it was better than death, he accepted the monarch's proposition to have an answer by
year's end.

He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the priests, the
wise men and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a
satisfactory answer.

Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have the answer.
But the price would be high; as the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the
exorbitant prices she charged.

The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She
agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first.

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The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights of the Round
Table and Arthur's closest friend! Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked
and hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewage, made obscene noises, etc. He had
never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life.

He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden; but
Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur. He said nothing was too big of a
sacrifice compared to Arthur's life and the preservation of the Round Table.

Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur's question thus: "What
a woman really wants", she answered "is to be in charge of her own life".

Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and
that Arthur's life would be spared. And so it was, the neighbouring monarch granted
Arthur his freedom and Lancelot and the witch had a wonderful wedding.

The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific
experience, entered the bedroom. But, what a sight awaited him. The most beautiful
woman he had ever seen lay before him on the bed. The astounded Lancelot asked what
had happened

The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch,
she would henceforth, be her horrible deformed self only half the time and the
beautiful maiden the other half.

"Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day... or night?"

Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman to show off to his
friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch? Or, would he prefer
having a hideous witch during the day, but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy
wondrous intimate moments?

Noble Lancelot said that he would allow HER to make the choice herself.

Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time because he
had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.

Now... what is the moral to this story? The moral is: If you don't let a woman have
her own way things are going to get ugly!

This has got to be one of the cleverest E-mails I've received in awhile. Someone
out there either has too much spare time or is deadly at Scrabble.
(Wait till you see the last one)!

DORMITORY: When you rearrange the letters:


DIRTY ROOM

PRESBYTERIAN: When you rearrange the letters:


BEST IN PRAYER

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ASTRONOMER: When you rearrange the letters:
MOON STARER

DESPERATION: When you rearrange the letters:


A ROPE ENDS IT

THE EYES: When you rearrange the letters:


THEY SEE

GEORGE BUSH: When you rearrange the letters:


HE BUGS GORE

THE MORSE CODE: When you rearrange the letters:


HERE COME DOTS

SLOT MACHINES: When you rearrange the letters:


CASH LOST IN ME

ANIMOSITY: When you rearrange the letters:


IS NO AMITY

ELECTION RESULTS: When you rearrange the letters:


LIES - LET'S RECOUNT (After Tasmania’s State elections.)

SNOOZE ALARMS: When you rearrange the letters:


ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S

A DECIMAL POINT: When you rearrange the letters:


IM A DOT IN PLACE

ELEVEN PLUS TWO: When you rearrange the letters:


TWELVE PLUS ONE

AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE:


MOTHER-IN-LAW: When you rearrange the letters:
WOMAN HITLER

Yep! Someone got that right.

The Husband Store - So very true!!!!!!


A store that sells new husbands has just opened in New York City, where a
woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the
entrance is a description of how the store operates.
You may visit the store ONLY ONCE!
There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the
shopper ascends the flights.

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There is, however, a catch: you may choose any man from a particular
floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down
except to exit the building.
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.
On the first floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men have
jobs.
The second floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men have jobs and love
kids.
The third floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love kids,
and are extremely good looking.
"Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads: Floor 4 - These men have
jobs, love kids, are drop-dead gorgeous and help with the housework.
"Oh, mercy me!" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it"
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads. Floor 5 – These men have jobs, love kids,
are drop-dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads: Floor 6 -
You are visitor 1,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists
solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the
Husband Store.

A New Wives store opened across the street. The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money.
The third through sixth floors have never been visited..... Which just goes to
show, that women do have something to offer after all.

A note from Osama to the lads.

Hi guys. We've all been putting in long hours recently but we've really come together as
a group and I love that! However, while we are fighting a jihad, we can't forget to take
care of the cave, and frankly I have a few concerns.

First of all: While it's good to be concerned about cruise missiles, we should be even
more concerned about the dust in our cave. We want to avoid excessive dust inhalation,
(a health and safety issue) - so we need to sweep the cave daily. I've done my bit on the
cleaning roster... Have you? I've posted a sign-up sheet near the cave reception area
(next to the Halal toaster/griller).

Second: It's not often I make a video address but when I do, I'm trying to scare the
hell out of most of the world's population, okay? That means that while we're taping,
please do not ride your scooter in the background or keep doing the 'Wasssuuup' thing.
Thanks.

Third: Food. I bought a box of Cathedral City cheese recently, clearly wrote "Ossy" on
the front, and put it on the top shelf of the fridge. Today, two of my cheese slices were
gone. Consideration. That's all I'm saying.

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Fourth: I'm not against team spirit and all that, but we must distance ourselves from
the Infidel's bat and ball games. And please - do not chant "Ossy, Ossy, Ossy. Oii Oii
Oii" when I ride past on the donkey. Thanks.

Fifth: Graffiti. Whoever wrote "OSAMA FUCKS DONKEYS" on the group toilet wall, it's
a lie. The donkey backed into me, whilst I was relieving myself at the edge of the
mountain.

Sixth: The use of chickens is strictly for food. Assam, the old excuse that the 'chicken
backed into me, whilst I was relieving myself at the edge of the mountain' will not be
accepted in future. (With donkeys there is a grey area).

Finally, we've heard that there may be Western soldiers in disguise trying to infiltrate
our ranks. I want to set up patrols to look for them. First patrol will be Omar,
Muhammad, Abdul, Akbar and Dave the Ozzie.

Love you lots, Group Hug.

Os.

PS - I'm sick of having "Osama's Bed Linen" scribbled on my laundry bag. Cut it
out, it's not funny anymore.

Bet that one got the pulse racing.

That's it! All finished for another week! I've had to


dig deep into my heart and soul to crank this bad
boy out, mind you I had some help from certain
quarters but I can say with great certainty that there
is nothing else I would rather be doing on a
Thursday... and Wednesday... and all the other days
it took me to screw this edition together, but it was
fun.

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