Humor Additions for February 6th, 2004


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2004 Darwin Award Nominee Bill Henderson broke into a glue factory ...

... in search of the ultimate high, and 12 hours later stunned workers found him -- stuck to the floor!

"I've seen dumb people in my life, but this guy takes the cake," says Florence Mabely, a glue-viscosity tester at the Durable Fit Glue Company in Sydney, Australia.

"He was covered in contact cement from head to toe. We had to pry him off the concrete with shovels and a crowbar like he was a slab of linoleum tile and all the time he was squealing like a stuck pig.

"He was screaming and hollering, 'Don't hurt me! Oh, God, just don't hurt me!'

"I kept telling him to shut up or I'd super-glue his mouth shut and scrape him off the floor with a fork lift."

Henderson, 19, told cops he occasionally sniffs glue to relax and hallucinate and decided that the glue factory was a good spot to pursue "a massive high."

He said he sneaked into the 65,000-square-foot plant through an open window and made a beeline for the blending room, where industrial- strength glues are mixed in giant stainless steel vats.

The room is vented by an array of 12 oversized exhaust fans to protect workers from volatile fumes that in low doses can make a human hallucinate and feel giddy, but in higher doses can cause brain and organ damage and even kill you.

Henderson told police he turned off the fans and took several deep breaths -- "huffing," in the parlance of addicts, who usually breathe glue from a paper bag with its opening held tight around their nose and mouth.

"I seen visions of Jesus and the devil and a space alien with a big head," Henderson told police. "I also seen the King of rock 'n' roll -- what's his name? Elvis? And somebody else I can't remember... it might have been Michael Jackson or that other singer, Kurt Cobain."

It's not entirely clear what happened next, but this much is known by police: Henderson knocked over a 500-gallon vat of gooey contact cement... and slipped and then rolled in it."

Submitted by Bill, Narberth, Pa.
 

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It was October and the Indians on a remote reservation asked their new chief ...

... if the coming winter was going to be cold or mild. Since he was a chief in a modern society he had never been taught the old secrets. When he looked at the sky he couldn't tell what the winter was going to be like.

Nevertheless, to be on the safe side he told his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect firewood to be prepared. But being a practical leader, after several days he got an idea. He went to the phone booth, called the National Weather Service and asked, "Is the coming winter going to be cold?"

"It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold," the meteorologist at the weather service responded.
So the Chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more firewood in order to be prepared.
A week later he called the National Weather Service again. "Does it still look like it is going to be a very cold winter?"

"Yes," the man at National Weather Service again replied, "it's going to be a very cold winter."
The Chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of firewood they could find.
Two weeks later the Chief called the National Weather Service again. "Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?"

"Absolutely," the man replied. "It's looking more and more like it is going to be one of the coldest winters ever." "How can you be so sure?" the Chief asked.

The weatherman replied, "The Indians are collecting firewood like crazy."

Submitted by Debbie, Middletown, Md.
 

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A man walked into the ladies' department of a Dillard's Department Store ...

... and said to the woman behind the counter, "I'd like to buy a Baptist bra for my wife, size 36B."

"What type of bra?" asked the clerk.

"Baptist," said the man. "She said get a Baptist bra, and that you'd know what she meant."

"Ah yes, now I remember," said the saleslady. "We don't sell many of those. Mostly our customers want the Catholic type, the Salvation Army type, or the Presbyterian type."

Confused, the man asked, "What's the difference between them?"

The lady responded, "It is all really quite simple... the Catholic type supports the masses, the Salvation Army type lifts up the fallen, and the Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright. Then there's the Baptist type."

"What does that do?" asked the man.

She replied, "It makes mountains out of molehills."

Submitted by Pat, Blue Lake, Va.
 

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Submitted by Kent, Emmitsburg, Md.
 


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