According to a news report, a certain private school in Washington recently was faced with a unique problem. A number of 12-year-old girls were beginning to use lipstick and would put it on in the bathroom. That was fine, but after they put on their lipstick they would press their lips to the mirror leaving dozens of little lip prints. Every night the maintenance man would remove them and the next day the girls would put them back. Finally the principal decided that something had to be done. She called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the maintenance man. She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the custodian who had to clean the mirrors every night. To demonstrate how difficult it had been to clean the mirrors, she asked the maintenance man to show the girls how much effort was required. He took out a long-handled squeegee, dipped it in the toilet, and cleaned the mirror with it. Since then, there have been no lip prints on the mirror. There are teachers, and then, there are educators.
Did you know? In George Washington's days, there were no cameras. One's image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington showed him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. Arms and legs are limbs, therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the _expression. "Okay, but it'll cost you an arm and a leg." As incredible as it sounds, men and women took baths only twice a year! (May and October) Women kept their hair covered, while men shaved their heads (because of lice and bugs) and wore wigs. Wealthy men could afford good wigs made from wool. The wigs couldn't be washed, so to clean them they could carve out a loaf of bread, put the wig in the shell, and bake it for 30 minutes. The heat would make the wig big and fluffy, hence the term "big wig." Today we often use the term "here comes the Big Wig" because someone appears to be or is powerful and wealthy. In the late 1700s, many houses consisted of a large room with only one chair. Commonly, a long wide board was folded down from the wall and used for dining. The "head of the household" always sat in the chair while everyone else ate sitting on the floor. Once in a while, a guest (who was almost always a man) would be invited to sit in this chair during a meal. To sit in the chair meant you were important and in charge. Sitting in the chair, one was called the "chair man." Today in business we use the _expression or title "Chairman or Chairman of the Board," Needless to say, personal hygiene left much room for improvement. As a result, many women and men had developed acne scars by adulthood. The women would spread bee's wax over their facial skin to smooth out their complexions. When they were speaking to each other, if a woman began to stare at another woman's face she was told "mind your own bee's wax." Should the woman smile, the wax would crack, hence the term "crack a smile." Also, when they sat too close to the fire, the wax would melt and therefore the _expression "losing face." Ladies wore corsets which would lace up in the front. A tightly tied lace was worn by a proper and dignified lady as in "straight laced." Common entertainment included playing cards. However, there was a tax levied when purchasing playing cards but only applicable to the "ace of Spades." To avoid paying the tax, people would purchase 51 cards instead. Yet, since most games require 52 cards, these people were thought to be stupid or dumb because they weren't "playing with a full deck." Early politicians required feedback from the public to determine what was considered important to the people. Since there were no telephones, TV's or radios, the politicians sent their assistants to local taverns, pubs, and bars who were told to "go sip some ale" and listen to people's conversations and political concerns. Many assistants were dispatched at different times. "You go sip here" and "You go sip there." The two words "go sip" were eventually combined when referring to the local opinion and, thus we have the term "gossip." At local taverns, pubs, and bars, people drank from pint-and quart-sized containers. A bar maid's job was to keep an eye on the customers and keep the drinks coming. She had to pay close attention and remember who was drinking in "pints" and who was drinking in "quarts," hence the term "minding your 'P's and Q's." One more: bet you didn't know this!!!! In the heyday of sailing ships, all war ships and many freighters carried iron cannons. Those cannons fired round iron cannon balls. It was necessary to keep a good supply near the cannon, but how to prevent them from rolling about the deck? The best storage method devised was a square based pyramid with one ball on top, resting on four resting on nine, which rested on sixteen. Thus, a supply of 30 cannon balls could be stacked in a small area right next to the cannon. There was only one problem... how to prevent the bottom layer from sliding or rolling from under the others. The solution was a metal plate called a "Monkey" with 16 round indentations. But, if this plate were made of iron, the iron balls would quickly rust to it. The solution to the rusting problem was to make "Brass Monkeys." Few landlubbers realize that brass contracts much more and much faster than iron when chilled. Consequently, when the temperature dropped too far, the brass indentations would shrink so much that the iron cannon balls would come right off the monkey. Thus, it was quite literally, "Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey". (And all this time, you thought that was an improper _expression, didn't you?)
Part of the airline's recent settlement with the unions was hiring handicapped people. The other day, passengers on a small commuter plane were waiting for the flight to leave. Two men walked up the aisle dressed in pilots' uniforms and both were wearing dark glasses. One pilot was using a seeing-eye dog, and the other was tapping his way up the aisle with a white cane. Nervous laughter spread through the cabin; but the men enter the cockpit, the door closes, and the engines start up. The passengers begin glancing nervously around, searching for some sign that this is just a little practical joke. None is forthcoming. The plane moves faster and faster down the runway, and people at the windows realize that they're headed straight for the water at the edge of the airport. As it begins to look as though the plane will never take off, that it will plow into the water, panicked screams fill the cabin. At that moment, the plane lifts smoothly into the air. The passengers relax and laugh a little sheepishly, and soon they have all retreated into their books and magazines, secure in the knowledge that the plane is in good hands. Up front in the cockpit, the co-pilot turns to the pilot and says, "You know, Bob, one of these days, they're going to scream too late, and we're all gonna die."
Two men were out golfing. As one was ready to take his shot, a funeral procession drove by the golf course. The man stopped what he was doing, put down his club, and took off his hat and placed it over his heart. His partner was moved by this and said, "Hey Joe, that's the nicest thing I've even seen you do!" The first man looked back at him sternly, and said, as he was picking up his club, "Well, that's the least I could do for her after 30 years of marriage..."
" Here's my strategy on the Cold War: We win, they lose." "The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help." "The trouble with our liberal friends is not that they're ignorant: It's just that they know so much that isn't so." "Of the four wars in my lifetime none came about because the U.S. was too strong." "I have wondered at times about what the Ten Commandment's would have looked like if Moses had run them through the U.S. Congress." "The taxpayer: That's someone who works for the federal government but doesn't have to take the civil service examination." "Government is like a baby: An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other." "If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone under." "The nearest thing to eternal life we will ever see on this earth is a government program." "I've laid down the law, though, to everyone from now on about anything important that happens: no matter what time it is, wake me, even if it's in the middle of a Cabinet meeting." "It has been said that politics is the second oldest profession I have learned that it bears a striking resemblance to the first." "Democratsâ view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it." "Politics is not a bad profession. If you succeed there are many rewards, if you disgrace yourself you can always write a book." "No arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women." - Ronald Reagan (my hero!!)
A student comes to a young professor's office hours. She glances down the hall, closes his door, and kneels pleadingly. "I would do anything to pass this exam." She leans closer to him, flips back her hair, gazes meaningfully into his eyes. "I mean..." she whispers, "...I would do... **anything**!!!" He returns her gaze. "Anything???" "Yes,... Anything!!!" His voice turns to a whisper. "Would you... study???"
An accountant gets home late one night and his wife says, "Where the hell have you been?" He replies, "I was out getting a tattoo." "A tattoo?" she frowned, "What kind of tattoo did you get?" "I got a hundred dollar bill on my penis!" he said proudly. "What the hell were you thinking?" she said, shaking her head in disdain. "Why on earth would an accountant get a hundred dollar bill on his penis?" "Well - one, I like to watch my money grow," he began. "Two, once in a while, I like to play with my money..... three, I like how money feels in my hand... and lastly, instead of you going out shopping, you can stay right here at home and blow a hundred bucks anytime you want!!!"
I decided that I needed a few days off and I realized that I had run out of vacation time already. I figured the best way to get the Boss to send me home was to act a little crazy. I figured he'd think I was burning out and give me some time off. I came in to work early the other day and began hanging upside down from the ceiling. Just then, one of my coworkers (she's blonde......it'll be important later) came in and asked me what I'm doing. "Shh," I said, "I'm acting crazy to get a few days off. I'm a light bulb." A second later the Boss walked by and asked me what I was doing. "I'm a light bulb!" I exclaimed. "You're going crazy," he said. "Take a few days off." With that, I jumped down and started walking out. My coworker started following me and the Boss asked where she was going. "I can't work in the dark," she said.
Hi Mate, I am writing to you because I need your help to get me bloody pilot's license back. you keep telling me you got all the right contacts. Well now's your chance to make something happen for me because, mate, I'm bloody desperate. But first, I'd better tell you what happened during my last flight review with the CAA examiner. On the phone, Ron (that's the CAA dickhead) seemed a reasonable sort of bloke. He politely reminded me of the need to do a flight review every two years. He even offered to drive out, have a look over my property, and let me operate from my own strip. Naturally I agreed to that. Anyway, Ron turned up last Wednesday. First up, he said he was a bit surprised to see the plane on a small strip outside my homestead because the ALA (Authorized Landing Area) is about a mile away. I explained that because this strip was so close to the homestead it was more convenient than the ALA, and despite the power lines that cross about midway down the strip it's really not a problem to land and take-off because at the half-way point down the strip you're usually still on the ground. For some reason Ron seemed nervous. So although I had done the pre-flight inspection only four days earlier I decided to do it all over again. Because Ron was watching me carefully, I walked around the plane three times instead of my usual two. My effort was rewarded because the color finally returned to Ron's cheeks. in fact, they were a bright red. In view of Ron's obviously better mood, I told him that I was going to combine the test with some farm work as I had to deliver three poddy calves from the home paddock to the main herd. After a bit of a chase I finally caught the calves and threw them into the back of the ol' Cessna 172. We climbed aboard but Ron started getting on to me about weight and balance calculations and all that crap. Of course I knew that thing was a waste of time because calves like to move around a bit, particularly when they see themselves 500 feet off the ground. So it's bloody pointless trying to secure them as you know. However, I did tell Ron that he shouldn't worry as I always keep the trim wheel set on neutral to ensure that we remain pretty stable at all stages throughout the flight. Anyway, I started the engine and cleverly minimized the warm-up time by tramping hard on the brakes and gunned her to 2,500 rpm. I then discovered that Ron has very acute hearing, even though he was wearing a bloody headset. Through all that noise he detected a metallic rattle and demanded that I account for it. Actually it began about a month ago and was caused by a screwdriver that fell down a hole in the floor and lodged in the fuel selector mechanism. The selector can't be moved now but it doesn't matter because it's jammed on "All Tanks" so I suppose that's Okay. However, as Ron was obviously a real nit-picker, I blamed the noise on a vibration from a steel thermos flask which I keep in a beaut possie between the windshield and the magnetic compass. My explanation seemed to relax Ron because he slumped back in the seat and kept looking up at the cockpit roof. I released the brakes to taxi out but unfortunately the plane gave a leap and spun to the right. "Hell", I thought, "not the starboard chalk again". The bump jolted Ron back to full alertness. He looked wildly around just in time to see a rock thrown by the propwash disappear completely through the windscreen of his brand new car. While Ron was ranting about his car, I ignored his requirement that we taxi to the ALA and instead took off under the power lines. Ron didn't say a word, at least not until the engine started coughing right at the lift off point, then he bloody screamed his head off. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" "Now take it easy, Ron" I told him firmly. "That often happens after take-off and there is a good reason for it." I explained patiently that I usually run the plane on standard MOGAS, but one day I accidentally put in a gallon or two of kerosene. To compensate for the low octane of the kerosene I siphoned in a few gallons of super MOGAS and shook the wings up and down a few times to mix it up. Since then, the engine has been coughing a bit but in general it works just fine if you know how to coax it properly. Anyway, at this stage, Ron seemed to lose all interest in my flight test. He pulled out some rosary beads, closed his eyes and became lost in prayer. (I didn't think that anybody was a Catholic these days.) I selected some nice music on the HF radio to help him relax. Meanwhile, I climbed to my normal cruising altitude of 10,500 feet. I don't normally put in a flight plan or get the weather because, as you know getting fax access out here is a friggin joke and the bloody weather is always 8/8 blue anyway. But since I had that near miss with a Saab 340 I might have to change my thinking on that. Anyhow, on leveling out I noticed some wild camels heading into my improved pasture. I hate bloody camels and always carry a loaded .303 clipped inside the door of the Cessna just in case I see any of the bastards. We were too high to hit them, but as a matter of principle, I decided to have a go through the open window. Mate, when I pulled the bloody rifle out the effect on Ron was friggin' electric. As I fired the first shot his neck lengthened by about six inches and his eyes bulged like a rabbit with myxo. He really looked as if he had been jabbed with an electric cattle prod on full power. In fact, Ron's reaction was so distracting that I lost concentration for a second and the next shot went straight through the port tyre. Ron was a bit upset about the shooting (probably one of those pinko animal lovers I guess) so I decided not to tell him about our little problem with the tyre. Shortly afterwards I located the main herd and decided to do my fighter pilot trick. Ron had gone back to praying when, in one smooth sequence, I pulled on full flaps, cut the power and started a sideslip from 10,500 feet down to 500 feet and 130 knots indicated (the last time I looked anyway) and the little needle rushing up the red area on me ASI. What a buzz, mate! About half way through the descent I looked back in the cabin to see the calves suspended in mid air and mooing like crazy. I was going to comment on this unusual sight but Ron looked a bit green and had rolled himself into the fetal position and was screamin' his freaking head off. Mate, talk about being in a bloody zoo. You should have been there, it was so bloody funny. At about 500 feet I attempted to level out for some reason we continued sinking. When we reached 50 feet I applied full power but nothing happened; no noise, no nothin. Then, luckily, I heard me instructor's voice in me head saying "carby heat, carby heat". So I pulled carby heat on and that helped quite a lot, with the engine finally regaining full power. Whew, that was really close, let me tell you. Then mate, you'll never guess what happened next! As luck would have it, at that height we flew into a massive dust cloud caused by the cattle and suddenly went I.F. bloody R., mate. B.J., you would've been bloody proud of me as I didn't panic once, not once, but I did make a mental note to consider an instrument rating as soon as me gyro is repaired. (Something I've been meaning to do for a while now.) Suddenly Ron's elongated neck and bulging eyes reappeared. His mouth opened wide, very wide, but no sound emerged. "Take it easy," I told him. "We'll be out of this in a minute." Sure enough, about a minute later we emerge; still straight and level and still at 50 feet. Admittedly, I was surprise to notice that we were upside down and I kept thinking to myself, "I hope Ron didn't notice that I had forgotten to set the QNH when we were taxiing". This minor tribulation forced me to fly to a nearby valley in which I had to do a half roll to get upright again. By now the main herd had divided into two groups leaving a narrow strip between them. "Ah!," I thought, "there's an omen. We'll land right there." Knowing that the tyre problem demanded a slow approach, I flew a couple of steep turns with full flap. Soon the stall warning horn was blaring so loud in me ear that I cut it's circuit breaker to shut it up, but by then I knew we were slow enough anyway. I turned steeply into a 75 foot final and put her down with a real thud. Strangely enough, I had always thought you could only ground loop in a tail dragger but, as usual, I was proved wrong again. Halfway through our third loop Ron at last recovered his sense of humor. Talk about laugh. I've never seen the likes of it. He couldn't stop. We finally rolled to a halt and I released the calves, who bolted out of the aircraft like there was no tomorrow. I then began picking clumps of dry grass. Between gut wrenching fits of laughter, Ron asked what I was doing. I explained that we had to stuff the port tyre with grass so we could fly back to the homestead. It was then that Ron really lost the plot and started running away from the aircraft. Can you believe it? The last time I saw him he was off into the distance, arms flailing in the air and still shrieking with laughter. I later heard that he had been confined to a psychiatric institution- - poor bugger. Anyhow, mate, that's enough about Ron. The problem is I just got a letter from CASA withdrawing, as they put it, my privileges to fly; until I have undergone a complete pilot training course again and undertaken another flight proficiency test. Now I admit that I made a mistake in taxiing over the wheel chock and not setting the QNH using strip elevation, but I can't see what else I did that was so bloody bad that they have to withdraw me flamin' license. Can you?
At the gates of heaven there were two lines, with signs above them. One line was labeled "Hen Pecked Husbands", and the other was labeled "Non-Henpecked Husbands." In the line labeled " Hen Pecked Husbands" was filled with men and it stretched as far far as the eye could see. The other line "non-Hen Pecked Husbands" had only one skinny bald little man with thick glasses. After surveying the two lines, St. Peter walked over to the little man in the Non-Henpecked line, grabbed his hand and told him how amazed he was at his accomplishment, and asked him "how in the world did you do it? You are the only man in this line." The little man looked at St. Peter with a puzzled look on his face and said, "Gee mister I don't know what you are talking about, my wife told me to stand here."