Dear Bank Manager,l am writing to thank you for bouncing the check with which I endeavored to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations some three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check, and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honor it. I refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire salary, an arrangement which, I admit, has only been in place for eight years.You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account with $50 by way of penalty for the inconvenience I caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs from the manner in which this incident has caused me to re-think my errant financial ways.You have set me on the path of fiscal righteousness. No more will our relationship be blighted by these unpleasant incidents, for I am restructuring my affairs in 1999, taking as my model the procedures, attitudes and conduct of your very bank. I can think of no greater compliment, and I know you will be excited and proud to hear it. To this end, please be advised about the following changes.First, I have noticed that whereas I personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try to contact you I am confronted by the impersonal, ever-changing, pre-recorded, faceless entity which your bank has become. From now on I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh and blood person.My mortgage and loan repayments will, therefore and hereafter, no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by check, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee of your branch, whom you must nominate. You will be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an Application Contact Status which I require your chosen employee to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no alternative.Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned by a Justice of the Peace, and that the mandatory details of his/her financial situation ( income, debts, assets and liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof.In due course I will issue your employee with a PIN number which he/she must quote in all dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of button presses required to access my account balance on your phone bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Let me level the playing field even further by introducing you to my new telephone system, which you will notice, is very much like yours. My Authorized Contact at your bank, the only person with whom I will have any dealings, may call me at any time and will be answered by an automated voice. By pressing Buttons on the phone, he/she will be guided thorough an extensive set of menus:1. To make an appointment to see me.2. To query a missing repayment.3. To make a general complaint or inquiry.4. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there; Extension of living room to be communicated at the time the call is received.5. To transfer the call to my bed room case I am still sleeping. Extension of bed room to be communicated at the time the call is received.6. To transfer the call to my bath room in case I am attending to nature. Extension of toilet to be communicated at the time the call is received.7. To transfer the call to my mobile phone in case I am not at home.8. To leave a message on my computer. To leave a message a password to access my computer is required. Password will be communicated at a later date to the contact.9. To return to the main menu and listen carefully to options 1 through 8. The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. While this may on occasion involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration. This month I've chosen a refrain from The Best Of Woody Guthrie:Oh, the banks are made of marbleWith a guard at every doorAnd the vaults are filled with silverThat the miners sweated forAfter twenty minutes of that, our mutual contact will probably know it by heart.On a more serious note, we come to the matter of cost. As your bank has often pointed out, the ongoing drive for greater efficiency comes at a cost - a cost which you have always been quick to pass on to me. Let me repay your kindness by passing some costs back.First, there is the matter of advertising material you send me. This I will read for a fee of $20 per page. Inquiries from your nominated contact will be billed at $5 per minute of my time spent in response. Any debits to my account, as, for example, in the matter of the penalty for the dishonored chek, will be passed back to you.My new phone service runs at 75 cents a minute (even Woody Guthrie doesn't come for free), so you would be well advised to keep your inquiries brief and to the point.Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.May I wish you a happy, if ever-so-slightly less prosperous, New Year.Your humble client.
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”Heating Nuts”
I was working in a scrap yard in Southern England during summer vacation at an engineering university. I used to work repairing construction equipment. One afternoon, I was taking apart a piling hammer that had some very large bolts holding it together. One of the nuts had corroded on to the bolt; to free it, I started heating the nut with an oxy-acetylene torch.
As I was doing this, one of the dimmest apprentices I have ever known came along. He asked me what I was doing. I patiently explained that if I heated the nut, it would grow larger and release its grip on the bolt so I could then remove it.
"So things get larger when they get hot, do they?" he asked.
Suddenly, an idea flashed into my mind. "Yes," I said, "that's why days are longer in summer and shorter in winter."
There was a long pause, then his face cleared. "You know, I always wondered about that," he said.
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Each Friday night after work, Bubba would fire up his
outdoor grill and cook venison steak. But all of Bubba's
neighbors were Catholic, and since it was Lent, they were
forbidden from eating red meat on Friday.
The delicious aroma from the grilled venison steaks was
causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they
finally talked to their priest.
The priest came to visit Bubba and suggested that he become
a Catholic.
After several classes and much study, Bubba attended Mass.
The priest sprinkled holy water over him and said, "You were
born a Baptist and raised as a Baptist, but now you are
Catholic."
Bubba's neighbors were greatly relieved, until Friday night
arrived and the wonderful aroma of grilled venison filled
the neighborhood. The priest was called immediately by the
neighbors.
As the priest rushed into Bubba's yard, clutching a rosary
and prepared to scold him, he stopped and watched in
amazement.
There stood Bubba, clutching a small bottle of holy water,
which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat while
chanting, "You wuz born a deer, you wuz raised a deer, but
now you are a catfish."
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After a long day of being called upon to visit an endless series of horses
and cows with sore legs, I finally returned to the animal clinic.
Although exhausted, when I discovered I had a slow leak in one of my truck
tires, I drove over to get it fixed at the service station.
The mechanic knew immediately he was dealing with a tired veterinarian after
I carefully explained to him that my truck seemed to be lame in the right
hind tire.
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"Get this." said a guy to his friends, "Last night, while I was down at the
bar with you guys, a burglar broke into my house.
"Did he get anything?" his friends asked.
The guy said, "Yeah, a broken jaw, six teeth knocked out, and a pair of
broken ribs."
One of his friends ask, "How'd that happen?"
The guy answered, "Well, it was really late at night and my wife thought it
was me coming home drunk."
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It's okay to have nothing to say unless you're talking.