Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humour. Show all posts

Saturday 23 June 2012

Best Tweets of the Week


Church of England says splitting from Europe would be a "travesty" http://t.co/TDt5dOzd 500 years too late!


@TonyAbbottMHR @southwestvicdog The middle one is a Dingo cross #auspol

I think that's a bit judgemental, especially for a school http://t.co/S9gX8a1K

Thursday 12 April 2012

Maths for the Twittersphere

 

 

Ninety year-old Ginger Meggsgrafitti says it all:

“45% of the time I am right.

Never mind the other 2%.”

Onya Jason!

Saturday 17 March 2012

National Napping Day: proof that America can no longer man-up


Ever wondered if the Home of the Brave and Land of the Free was as full of pioneer-hardy folk as its relentless skiting makes out?
Well here’s proof in Huff Post that those babies can’t even take daylight saving in their stride:
“Daylight Saving Time means more afternoon sunshine, but that may have been little consolation to those who lost an hour of sleep Sunday morning.
If you're still groggy from losing that precious hour, then take advantage of National Napping Day, observed today, March 14. This unofficial holiday encourages you to catch forty winks and enjoy the health and productivity benefits of napping.
First observed in 1999, National Napping Day is the brainchild of Boston University professor William Anthony, Ph.D. and his wife, Camille.
"We chose this particular Monday because Americans are more 'nap-ready' than usual after losing an hour of sleep to daylight savings time," Anthony said in B.U.'s press release. " 

Google Images harvested the cartoon

Thursday 15 March 2012

The mystery of Blue's beer



Onya, Bazza!

Blue just wanted to know who drank his beer. We struggled with the maths but finally agreed that 7.5 million cans over six months divided by troop strength meant we should have had six cans a night each.
However, The Ant reminded us that in camp at Nui Dat our ration was two cans a night and when we did occasionally get to Vung Tau he only drank local beer. Then, always alert, Grunt said: "Wait on, at any one time, a third of us were out on patrol. It was hard enough carrying water and ammo let alone beer."
We also recalled that some stronger willed Nashos did not drink alcohol. So the remaining third of us had to get through 18 beers every night. Since the boozer opened at 5pm, was closed for dinner and curfew was 10pm, we conceded the task was beyond even us.
We concluded that there must have been a phantom company that had Olympian drinking capacity was sent over along with the beer. Or else the whole story is a furphy.
Nevertheless, if it is true that if 7.5 million cans were dispatched from Australia to Vietnam for us Diggers over six months, whoever got them, it's your shout.
Barry Golding, Sherwood, Qld

Google Images supplied the beer pic

Saturday 10 March 2012

You know you're an Aussie when..............


Currently doing the rounds on the Internet.

YOU KNOW YOU’RE AUSTRALIAN WHEN

You believe that stubbies can either be drunk or worn. You've made a bong out of your garden hose rather than use it for something legal such as watering the garden. You understand that the phrase 'a group of women wearing black thongs' refers to footwear and may be less alluring than it sounds. You pronounce Melbourne as 'Mel-bin'. You believe the 'l' in the word 'Australia' is optional. You can translate: 'Dazza and Shazza played Acca Dacca on the way to Maccas'.

You call your best friend 'a total bastard' but someone you really, truly despise is just 'a bit of a bastard'. You think 'Woolloomooloo' is a perfectly reasonable name for a place. You're secretly proud of our killer wildlife. You believe it makes sense for a country to have a $1 coin that's twice as big as its $2 coin. You understand that 'Wagga Wagga' can be abbreviated to 'Wagga' but 'Woy Woy' can't be called 'Woy'.

You believe that cooked down axle grease makes a good breakfast spread - you've squeezed it through Vita Weats to make little Vegemite worms. You believe all famous Kiwis are actually Australian, until they stuff up, at which point they again become Kiwis. Beetroot with your Hamburger... of course! You know that certain words must, by law, be shouted out during any rendition of the Angels' song 'Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again' And 'Living next door to Alice'. You wear ugg boots outside the house. You believe that every important discovery in the world was made by an Australian but then sold off for a pittance.

You believe that the more you shorten someone's name the more you like them. Whatever your linguistic skills, you find yourself able to order takeaway fluently in every Asian language. You understand that 'excuse me' can sound rude, While 'scuse me' is always polite. You know what it's like to swallow a fly, on occasion via your nose. You know it's not summer until the steering wheel is too hot to handle and a seat belt buckle becomes a pretty good branding iron. Your biggest family argument over the summer concerned the rules for beach cricket. You shake your head in horror when companies try to market what they call 'Anzac Cookies'.

You still think of Kylie as 'that girl off Neighbours'. When working in a bar, you understand male customers will feel the need to offer an excuse whenever they order low-alcohol beer. You know how to abbreviate every word, all of which usually end in "o": arvo, combo, garbo, kero, lezzo, metho, milko, muso, rego, servo, smoko, speedo, righto, goodo etc... You know that there is a universal place called 'woop woop' located in the middle of nowhere, no matter where you actually are! You know that none of us actually drink Fosters beer, because it tastes like piss.

You sleep with Aeroguard on in the summer and don't mind it as a perfume. You've only ever used the words - tops, ripper, sick, mad, sweet, to mean "good" and when you place 'bloody' in front of it then you really mean it. You know that the barbecue is a political arena. You say 'no worries' quite often, whether you realise it or not. You understand what no wucking furries means. You've drank your tea/coffee/milo through a Tim Tam. You own a Bond's chesty - in several different colours.

You know that some people pronounce Australia like "Straya" and that's ok. And you will immediately forward this list to other Australians, here and overseas, realising that only they will understand!

Monday 27 February 2012

Friday 10 February 2012

Preview of Granny Herald's changes to banner and editorial policy?


Dan Ilic provides a laugh with this alternative front page for the Fairfax media's flagship - The Sydney Mining Herald 
Click on page to grow the joke

Friday 3 February 2012

Tweet of the Week

 

R_Chirgwin R_Chirgwin
Love it - a story about a planet 22 light years away with the obligatory Google map in the sidebar, showing Washington.

Wednesday 1 February 2012

Don't laugh - we are Christians!



Teaching the overly sensitive Mr. Smith about the Streisand Effect....

The Telegraph
on 31 January 2012:

The Australian Communications and Media Authority has confirmed to news.com.au that it is investigating a satirical interview by comedians John Clarke and Brian Dawe, which went to air at the end of ABC's 7.30 program on October 27 last year.
ABC has stood by the program and dismissed the investigation as "routine".
Perth school teacher Simon Smith told news.com.au he complained to ABC and the broadcasting watchdog after he saw the skit last year.
He objected to its portrayal of Christians.
"You can clearly see that they are vilifying Christians as insensitive, callous and uncaring with clear inferences to the Opposition front bench and Tony Abbott, many who are Catholics," he claimed.
"I just sat there for a minute and I thought, they've really overstepped the mark”.




The Canberra Problem and "Dr Saulways-Wright"
Originally aired on ABC TV's 7.30: 27/10/2011

Tuesday 20 December 2011

The Grim Reaper's preferred walking speed while on the job is 3 km per hour. So walk faster this Christmas if you want to see New Year!


Aussie researchers with a typically morbid sense of humour produced this just in time for The British Medical Journal’s Christmas 2011 issue:
“How fast does the Grim Reaper walk? Receiver operating characteristics curve analysis in healthy men aged 70 and over.”

Introduction
“The Grim Reaper, the personification of death, is a well known mythological and literary figure. Reported characteristics include a black cloak with cowl, a scythe, and cachexia. High quality scientific research linking the Grim Reaper to mortality has been scarce, despite extensive anecdotes
Walking speed is a commonly used objective measure of physical capability in older people, predicting survival in several cohort studies. A recent meta-analysis found that being in the lowest fourth of walking speed compared with the highest was associated with a threefold increased risk of mortality. Moreover, the association between slow walking speed and mortality seems consistent across several ethnic groups and shows a dose-response relation. Although the association between walking speed and mortality has been well documented, the plausible biological relation between the two remains unclear.
We assessed whether the relation between slow walking speed and mortality results from the increased likelihood of being caught by Death. By assessing this relation using receiver operating characteristics curve analysis, we hypothesised we would be able to determine the walking speed of the Grim Reaper—information of importance to public health.”

Discussion
“Based on receiver operating characteristics analysis and estimation of the Youden index, a walking speed of 0.82 m/s (2 miles (about 3 km) per hour) was most predictive of mortality. Therefore, we predict that this is the likely speed at which the Grim Reaper prefers to ambulate under working conditions. Older men who walked at speeds greater than 0.82 m/s were 1.23 times less likely to encounter Death. In addition, no men walking at speeds of 1.36 m/s (3 miles (about 5 km) per hour) or above were caught by Death (n=22, 1.4%). This supports our hypothesis that faster speeds are protective against mortality because fast walkers can maintain a safe distance from the Grim Reaper. Interestingly, the predicted walking speed of Death estimated in the present study is virtually identical to the gait speed (0.80 m/s) associated with median life expectancy at most ages and for both sexes in a recent meta-analysis of gait speed and mortality using data from diverse populations. This indicates that the preferred walking speed of the Grim Reaper while collecting souls is relatively constant irrespective of people’s geographical location, sex, or ethnic background.”

Conclusion
“The Grim Reaper’s preferred walking speed is (2 miles (about 3 km) per hour) 0.82 m/s under working conditions. As none of the men in the study with walking speeds of 1.36 m/s (3 miles (about 5 km) per hour) or greater had contact with Death, this seems to be the Grim Reaper’s most likely maximum speed; for those wishing to avoid their allotted fate, this would be the advised walking speed.”


The bad news oozing out from this study is that the infamous lycra-clad fitness freak, Opposition Leader Tony Look at my Box Abbott, is bound to make it through to polling day in 2013.

Saturday 3 December 2011

Arty humour

From Chelsey Austin's Facebook photos
Click to enlarge

Thursday 24 November 2011

Most amusing tweet of the week puts things into perspective



GOOGLE: "I know everything!"
FACEBOOK: "I know everyone!"
INTERNET: "Without me you're all nothing!"
ELECTRICITY: "Keep talking, bitches."

Friday 18 November 2011

Leavening the blog loaf


Because it gets so serious around here during North Coast elections, I thought I might post this………………

Alright, Fine, I’ll Add a Disclaimer to My Emails.

By James Sinclair

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: This email does not create an attorney-client relationship. Probably. If it does, it will have said it does. Although it could have created an attorney-client relationship without explicitly saying so, because the law is tricky like that, and the authoritative statements in this disclaimer are not as authoritative as they look. Suffice it to say, if you aren’t absolutely certain about whether or not an attorney-client relationship exists between yourself and the sender of this email, you should probably hit “reply” and ask for some clarity.
This email may contain confidential and/or legally privileged information. If it does, and you are not the intended recipient, then the sender hereby requests that you notify him of his mistake and destroy all copies in your possession. The sender also concedes that he is very, very stupid, and obviously should not be operating an electronic-mail machine without supervision.
The purpose of this disclaimer, in theory, is to protect the sender from whatever liability may result from the sender’s own failure to communicate clearly or properly send an email, even though the sender, having obtained a formal legal education, is well aware that a generic email disclaimer, even one written with that ominous language of which lawyers are so fond, is unlikely to be enforced against a party lacking a sophisticated understanding of the legal principles surrounding said disclaimer, and that in the case of a party who does understand the legal principles surrounding said disclaimer, the disclaimer merely restates what said party already knows. This disclaimer is a catch-22.
This disclaimer is not unlike the ceaseless blaring of a distant car alarm—a once-sincere warning that has evolved into an unpleasant nuisance, rendered meaningless by its own ubiquity. This disclaimer exists in a country where the demand for legal services is substantial enough to provide gainful employment for more than one million lawyers, virtually all of whom make liberal use of disclaimers purporting to protect themselves from the very litigiousness that pays their bills. You do the math.
This disclaimer is not especially concerned with intelligibility. Unlike the sender of this email, this disclaimer has no qualms about indulging in the more obnoxious trademarks of legalese, including but not limited to (i) the phrase “including but not limited to”, (ii) the use of “said” as an adjective, (iii) re-naming conventions that have little to no basis in vernacular English and, regardless, never actually recur (hereinafter referred to as “the 1980 Atlanta Falcons”), (iv) redundant, tedious, and superfluous repetition of synonymous terms, (v) ENTIRE SECTIONS OF FULLY-CAPITALIZED TEXT, PRESUMABLY INTENDED TO SAY TO THE READER, “HEY! THIS IS IMPORTANT! YOU SHOULD READ THIS PART! AND REMEMBER IT!”, AS IF NO ONE HAS EVER NOTICED THAT PHYSICALLY ENLARGING TEXT WITHOUT INCREASING THE AMOUNT OF SPACE AVAILABLE FOR SAID TEXT TO OCCUPY CREATES THE VISUAL EFFECT OF A SOLID RECTANGULAR BLOCK OF LETTERS, ROUGHLY AS CAPABLE OF IMPARTING A COHERENT THOUGHT AS A TIGHTLY-PACKED SCRABBLE® BOARD, and (vi) lowercase Roman numerals.
This disclaimer exists for precisely one reason—to make this email appear more professional. This disclaimer shall not be construed as a guarantee of actual professionalism on the part of the sender. Any actual professionalism contained herein is purely coincidental and is in no way attributable to the presence of this disclaimer. While the sender of this email likes to think the professionalism with which he approaches his work speaks for itself, this disclaimer constitutes (i) begrudging acquiescence to the industry standard, or at least a superficial imitation thereof, and (ii) begrudging acceptance of the paradoxical reality that people who exchange emails with lawyers both expect to see, and pay no attention to, legal disclaimers. If you aren’t reading this, then this disclaimer has done its job. Its sad, pointless job. THIS DISCLAIMER IS NOT INTENDED TO BE IRONIC.

Saturday 24 September 2011

Early nominations in Clarence by-election


Inspired by those locals who are in various stages of sheer disbelief or rolling hysteria at the thought of two state elections in one year in the Clarence electorate........


Sunday 11 September 2011

Bills mounting, mayhem in the henhouse? No worries mate!


Arnold had been over on the bush blocks with the other cows for the last part of the winter so I have not seen him much.

Which meant that today was a real treat; he and I were out in front of the barn together.

He was munching a billet of hay and I was chewing on a filched straw, as we began discussing what had been going on while he was away.

The track in to the house had been resurfaced, through rain and vehicle traffic had badly cut-up those parts of the track that we did not have the money to tackle.

Then Tom, the most useless cattle dog ever born, had to go to the vet. I should explain to readers that Tom was a town dog who terrorized his owners so much they gave him away. He adjusted well to farm life but the only things he herds are kangaroos.

The neighbours think he is great since he moves all kangaroos hopping about their properties onto our place. This is one habit I have not been able to change so far.

During one of these roo musters he ran onto a piece of wood and staked himself. This resulted in a large and gaping wound under one of his front legs. More of the hard earned cash gone.

Then the chooks had their own Arab Spring; the two top roosters (brothers) would attack the younger roosters and terrorize the hens so much that egg production was falling. One of them even tried to attack me.

I was getting ready to give them the chop when they decided that they would both attack Harold the young Issa brown rooster, a quieter rooster I have never known.

Something in Harold must have snapped - the fight was monumental. When the feathers, dust and blood finally settled one of the brothers lay dead and the other was at the bottom of the pecking order.

It was poetic justice at its best. The hens are happy now, I’m happy egg numbers are up and Harold has reverted to his normal well-behaved self. Except when the surviving brother (now named Gaddafi) tries to pick on someone.

After Arnold and I had finished the hay and our talk I felt much better about life in general. So I thought how can I share the knowledge?

Answer - I’m going to have a T-shirt printed, with “Talk To A Cow” on the front and on the back “NULLUS ANXIETAS MATEUM”.

That should get the message out there.

Drawing from wordinfo

Tuesday 30 August 2011

Two guinea pigs walk into a Queensland bar and create polling heaven






Logging onto The Internetz to see how Oz pollie polling is going this morning? That’s so old school!

Monday 22 August 2011

First Dog nails the facts


Click on cartoon to enlarge
More of First Dog on the Moon here and here