Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Capitalism and cows
ROMANIAN CORPORATION-- You have two cows.You milk them and then go to sleep.When you wake up u have zero cows. WHY? a rrom just stole them :))
TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM -- You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull. Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.
AN AMERICAN CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when the cow drops dead.
FRENCH CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You go on strike because you want three cows.
A JAPANESE CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. You then create clever cow cartoon images called Cowkimon(tm) and market them world-wide.
A GERMAN CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.
A BRITISH CORPORATION -- You have two cows. Both are mad.
AN ITALIAN CORPORATION -- You have two cows, but you don't know where they are. You break for lunch.
A RUSSIAN CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You count them and learn you have five cows. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. You count them again and learn you have 12 cows. You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.
A SWISS CORPORATION -- You have 5000 cows, none of which belong to you. You charge others for storing them.
A HINDU CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You worship them.
A CHINESE CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You have 300 people milking them. You claim full employment, high bovine productivity, and arrest the newsman who reported the numbers.
AN ARKANSAS CORPORATION -- You have two cows. That one on the left is kinda cute.
ENRON CORPORATION -- You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows. The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company. The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States, leaving you with nine cows. No balance sheet provided with the release. The public buys your bull.
ARTHUR ANDERSON, LLC -- You have 2 cows. You shred all documents that Enron has any cows, take 2 cows from Enron for payment for consulting the cows, and attest that Enron has 9 cows.
ARABIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows. You make them into suicide bombers. They blow up the nearest American embassy.(no offense to Muslims)
look at this poor stupid man
i was surfing the web for funny things ...look what idiot i found ...sounds like a friend of mine :)
ONLY A GUY WOULD DO THIS!
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.
A guy who purchased his lovely wife a "pocket Taser" for their anniversary submitted this...
Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn
Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little "something extra" for my wife Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Taser.
The effects of the Taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety.... WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against flesh or a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
Awesome!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!!!
There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.
Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really (and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no possible way!" What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...
I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!
(&# %&
(# %) (&#*#*)!!!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner and then body slammed us both on the carpet over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "Do it again, do it again!"
Note: If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one note of caution: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A ONE-SECOND BURST when you zap yourself!!! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative.
That hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.
My bent glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there???
My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.
My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I'm still looking for my testicles and offering a significant reward for their safe return.
ONLY A GUY WOULD DO THIS!
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.
A guy who purchased his lovely wife a "pocket Taser" for their anniversary submitted this...
Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn
Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little "something extra" for my wife Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Taser.
The effects of the Taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety.... WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against flesh or a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
Awesome!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!!!
There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.
Am I wrong?
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really (and loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no possible way!" What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...
I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!
(&# %&
(# %) (&#*#*)!!!I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner and then body slammed us both on the carpet over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs. The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "Do it again, do it again!"
Note: If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one note of caution: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A ONE-SECOND BURST when you zap yourself!!! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. A three second burst would be considered conservative.
That hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.
My bent glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there???
My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.
My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I'm still looking for my testicles and offering a significant reward for their safe return.
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