Subject: Getting In To The Olympiads
From: Unicorn (unicorn@indenial.com)
Date: Mon Oct 02 2000 - 03:09:43 EDT
"Natural Selection"
A heard of buffalo can only move as fast as the
slowest buffalo, and when the herd is hunted; it
is the slowest and the weakest ones at the back
that are killed first.
This natural selection is good for the heard as
a whole, because the general speed and health
of the whole group keeps improving by the regular
attrition of the weakest members.
In much the same way, the human brain can
only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells.
Excessive intake of alcohol, we all know, kills
brain cells, but naturally, it attacks the slowest and
weakest brain cells first.
In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates
the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster
and more efficient machine.............
THAT'S WHY YOU ALWAYS FEEL SMARTER
AFTER A FEW BEERS!!!!
**************************************
"Getting In To The Olympiads"
Several guys were trying to sneak into the Olympic
Village to scoop souvenirs and autographs. The
first guy says, "Let's watch the registration table
to see if there's a crack in the security system that
we can utilize to scam our way in."
Immediately, a burly athlete walks up to the table
and states, "Angus MacPherson. Scotland. Shotput."
He opens his gym bag to display a shotput to the
registration attendant.
The attendant says, "Very good, Mr. MacPherson.
Here is your packet of registration materials, complete
with hotel keys, passes to all Olympic events, meal
tickets, and other information."
The first guy gets inspired and grabs a small tree
sapling, strips off the limbs and roots, walks up the
registration table and states: "Chuck Wagon.
Canada. Javelin."
The attendant says, "Very good, Mr. Wagon. Here
is your packet of registration materials, hotel keys,
passes, meal tickets, and so forth. Good luck!"
The second guy grabs a street utility manhole cover,
walks up to the registration table and states: "Dusty
Rhodes. Australia. Discus." He is admitted.
While wandering around outside the stadium, the
third guy comes upon construction site. Grabbing
a length of scaffolding, he presents himself at the
gate and says, "Johnson. England. The pole vault,"
and is also admitted.
The next guy, overhearing this, goes at once to
search the site. When he comes up with a sledge
hammer, he presents himself at the gate and says,
"O'Sullivan, Ireland, the hammer." He, too, is admitted.
They all scamper in, but suddenly realize the last guy
is missing. They groan, because he's a simpleton from
the hills of Kawabanga. They forgot to make sure he
doesn't do something stupid and blow their cover stories.
Just then he walks proudly up to the table with a roll of
barbed wire under his arm and states: "Foster Brack.
Kawabanga. Fencing."
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