Thursday, July 27, 2006

The Tax Office decides to audit Ralph, and summons him to the Tax Office.

The ATO auditor is not surprised when Ralph shows up with his attorney.

The auditor says, "Listen, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the ATO finds that believable."

"I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it," says Ralph. "How about a demonstration?"

The auditor thinks for a moment and said, "Okay.
Go ahead."

Ralph says, "I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye."

The auditor thinks a moment and says, "No way! It's a bet."

Ralph removes his glass eye and bites it.

The auditor's jaw drops. Ralph says, "Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye."

The auditor can tell Ralph isn't blind, so he takes the bet.

Ralph removes his dentures and bites his good eye.

The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost three grand, with Ralph's attorney as a witness. He starts to get nervous.

"Want to go double or nothing?" Ralph asks.
"I'll bet you six thousand dollars that I can stand on one side of your desk, and pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between."

The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this guy can manage that stunt, so he agrees again.

Ralph stands beside the desk and unzips his pants, but although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on other side, so he pretty much urinates all over the desk.

The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win. But Ralph's attorney moans and puts his head in his hands.

"Are you okay?" the auditor asks.

"Not really," says the attorney. "This morning, when Ralph told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me twenty thousand dollars that he could come in here and piss all over an ATO official's desk and that you'd be happy about it."

Read more funny stories on

Amazing Disappearing Man

John and Mary were having dinner in a very fine restaurant. Their waitress, taking another order at a table a few paces away noticed that John was ever so slowly, silently sliding down his chair and under the table, while Mary acted quite unconcerned.

Their waitress watched as John slid all the way down his chair and out of sight under the table.

Still, Mary appeared calm and unruffled, apparently unaware that John had disappeared under the table.

After the waitress finished taking the order, she came over to the table and said to the woman, "Pardon me, ma'am, but I think your husband just slid under the table."

The woman calmly looked up at her and replied firmly, "Oh, no he didn't. In fact, my husband just walked in the front door."

Math Test

Little Joe walked into his dad's study while his dad was working on the computer.

"Dad," said Joe, "Remember when you told me you'd give me twenty dollars if I passed my math test?"

Dad nodded.

"Well, the good news is that I just saved you twenty bucks."

The Spoon

A timeless lesson on how Consultants can make a difference for an organization:

Last week, we took some friends out to a new restaurant, and noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket.

It seemed a little strange. When the busboy brought our water and utensils, I noticed he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket. Then I looked around and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets. When the waiter came back to serve our soup I asked, "Why the spoon?"

"Well," he explained, "the restaurant's owners hired Andersen Consulting to revamp all our processes. After several months of analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. It represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. If our personnel are better prepared, we can reduce the number of trips back to the kitchen and save 15 man-hours per shift."

As luck would have it, I dropped my spoon and he was able to replace it with his spare.

"I'll get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right now."

I was impressed. I also noticed that there was a string hanging out of the waiter's fly.

Looking around, I noticed that all the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies.

So before he walked off, I asked the waiter, "Excuse me, but can you tell me why you have that string right there?"

"Oh, certainly!" Then he lowered his voice. "Not everyone is so observant.
That consulting firm I mentioned also found out that we could save time in the restroom. By tying this string to the tip of our "you know what", we can pull it out without touching it and eliminate the need to wash our hands, shortening the time spent in the restroom by 76.39 percent."

"After you get it out, how do you put it back?"

"Well," he whispered, "I don't know about the others, but I use the spoon."

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

first post

I FOUND AN OLD ROTARY TELEPHONE in a junk shop. Firetruck red. High gloss.

"Ten bucks," said Fred, the shop owner. The newspaper spread out before him, amid more junk, was open to the harness-racing results.

I handed him a one dollar bill and he put it in his cash box, never lifting his eyes from the paper.

"Works," he lied as I headed for the door.

"I'm sure," I lied back. You could count on two things at Fred's: everything was authentic, and anything that once did something didn't do it anymore. I wanted the phone because it was the real article.

It was square, with a receiver that lay on the top like a drunk's arm across your shoulder, just like the black phone that sat on the hall table in our house in 1958.

That year I was in Miss Es third-grade class. "Only the president of the United States and the leader of Russia can have a high-gloss red phone," she told us. My mother said Miss L had a flair for the dramatic and referred to her as "your teacher, Miss Loretta Young."

"And when President Eisenhower picks up the receiver," Miss L continued, "it connects directly to Mr. Khrushchev's phone on his desk in Russia. Someday one of those two men is going to pick up the receiver and say; 'Bombs away!'"

That's why we practiced crawling under our desks every Friday Bangor, Maine, would be their first target, Miss L added, because we had a military base in town.

We practiced saying "Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev," as if we could appeal to his compassionate side if we pronounced his name correctly Grown-ups talked in hushed tones about the cold war, secrets, missiles, Communism, bomb shelters. They changed the subject when we walked into the living room.

Miss L, who did not talk in hushed tones, told us that Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev had had a terrible fight with Vice President Nixon about kitchen appliances. The Soviets thought Americans were so lazy that nearly everyone in the United States had a washing machine, she said. "Vice President Nixon poked his finger at the Soviet leader, so today might well be the day;" she added brightly I faked a stomachache. We all wanted to go home.

Forty-seven years later, when I walked into Fred's junk shop, I knew that only two men in the world had been 'allowed to own red telephones in 1958. By the time I walked out, I had convinced myself I had just purchased either President Eisenhower's or Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev's red telephone.

Nothing from Fred's ever worked, I reminded myself. I could plug it in and find out for sure in two seconds--but what if the Curse of Fred's was no match for a nuclear-related device? What if somebody answered?


ME: Huh?


ME: Could you speak English, please?

THEM: Bombs away!

I spent a week with the phone in my hallway, where its mute challenge reproached me every time I passed. Miss L started appearing in my dreams, her tangerine-lipsticked mouth saying, "Today might well be the day" (Why is it that none of us ever ratted her out to our parents?) My living room seemed to echo with hushed tones and halted conversations.

Finally I stowed the phone down in the cellar, in an old backpack. I still sleep uneasily; knowing it's down there, but at least I sleep: thanks to my vigilance, no one's going to accidentally nuke the world by; say; dialing for Domino's.