FUNNY STUFF FROM SUITED AND BOOTED APRIL 2002 EDITION

BRICKLAYER TROUBLES This is a bricklayer's accident report. which was printed in the Newsletter of the New Zealand equivalent of the Worker's Compensation Board. This is (allegedly!) a TRUE story. The letter begins: Dear Sir, I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 3 of the accident report form. I put "Poor Planning" as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient. I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-storey building. When I completed my work, I found I had some bricks left over, which, when weighed later were found to be slightly in excess of 500lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building on the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks. You will note in Block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 135 lbs. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explains the fractured skull; minor abrasions and the broken collarbone, as listed on Section 3 of the accident report form. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep in the pulley. Fortunately by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of the excruciating pain I was now beginning to experience. At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, that barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight. As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent, down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and severe lacerations of my legs and lower body. Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked. I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back down onto me. This explains the two broken legs. I hope this answers your inquiry.

CAR CRASH A rabbi and a priest get into a car accident and it's a bad one. Both cars are totally demolished, but, amazingly, neither of the clerics is hurt. After they crawl out of their cars, the rabbi sees the priest's collar and says, "So you're a priest. I'm a rabbi. Just look at our cars. There's nothing left, but we are unhurt. This must be a sign from God. God must have meant that we should meet and be friends and live together in peace the rest of our days." The priest replies, "I agree with you completely. This must be a sign from God." The rabbi continues, "And look at this. Here's another miracle. My car is completely demolished but this bottle of Mogen David wine didn't break. Surely God wants us to drink this wine and celebrate our good fortune." Then he hands the bottle to the priest. The priest agrees, takes a few big swigs, and hands the bottle back to the rabbi. The rabbi takes the bottle, immediately puts the cap on, and hands it back to the priest. The priest asks, "Aren't you having any?" The rabbi replies, "No...I think I'll wait for the police."

LOST OLD MAN When I went to lunch recently, I noticed this elderly man about 75 to 80 years old sitting on a bench near the shopping center sobbing his eyes out. I stopped and asked him what was wrong. He said, 'I have a 22year-old wife at home. She makes love to me every morning and then gets up and makes me pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit and freshly brewed coffee.' I said, 'Well, then why are you crying?' He said, 'She makes me homemade soup for lunch and my favorite brownies and then makes love to me half the afternoon.' I asked again, 'So why are you crying?' He continued, 'For dinner she makes me a gourmet meal with wine and my favorite dessert and then makes love to me until midnight.' I said, 'Well, why in the world would you be crying?' He answered, 'I can't remember where I live.'

ARTHRITIS A drunk who smelled like a brewery got on a bus one day. He sat down next to a priest. The drunk's shirt was stained, his face was full of bright red lipstick and he had a half empty bottle of wine sticking out of his pocket. He opened his newspaper and started reading---a couple of minutes later he asked the priest, "Father what causes arthritis"? "Mister, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap wicked women, too much alcohol and contempt for your fellow man". "Well I'll be damned", the drunk muttered and returned to reading his paper. The priest, thinking about what he said turned to the man and apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong---how long have you had arthritis"? "I don't, father, I was just reading in the paper that the Pope has it".

THE GOLDEN SALOON A guy comes home completely drunk one night. He lurches through the door and is met by his scowling wife, who is most definitely not happy. "Where the hell have you been all night?" she demands. "At this fantastic new bar," he says. "The Golden Saloon. Everything there is golden. It's got huge golden doors, a golden floor, the works - hell, even the urinal's gold!" The wife still doesn't believe his story, and the next day checks the phone book, finding a place across town called the Golden Saloon. She calls up the place to check her husband's story. "Is this the Golden Saloon?" she asks when the bartender answers the phone. "Yes it is," bartender answers. "Do you have huge golden doors?" "Sure do." "Do you have golden floors?" "Most certainly do." "What about golden urinals?" There's a long pause, then the woman hears the bartender yelling, "Hey, Duke, I think I got a lead on the guy that pissed in your saxophone last night!"