A client called inquiring about a package to Hawaii. After going over all
the cost info, she asked, "would it be cheaper to fly to California and then
take the train to Hawaii?"

A nice lady just called. She needed to know how it was possible that her
flight from Detroit left at 8:20am and got into Chicago at 8:33am. I tried
to explain that Michigan was an hour ahead of Illinois, but she could not
understand the concept of time zones. Finally I told her the plane went
very fast, and she bought that!

A woman called and asked, "Do airlines put your physical description on your
bag so they know who's luggage belongs to who?" I said, "No, why do you
ask?" She replied, "Well, when I checked in with the airline, they put a
tag on my luggage that said FAT, and I'm overweight, is there any
connection?" After putting her on hold for a minute while I "looked into
it" ( I was actually laughing) I came back and explained the city code for
Fresno is FAT, and that the airline was just putting a destination tag on
her luggage.

I just got off the phone with a man who asked, "How do I know which plane to
get on?" I asked him what exactly he meant, to which he replied, "I was told
my flight number is 823, but none of these darn planes have numbers on
them."

A woman called and said, " I need to fly to Pepsi-cola on one of those
computer planes." I asked if she meant to fly to Pensacola on a commuter
plane. She said, "Yea, whatever."

A business man called and had a question about the documents he needed in
order to fly to China. After a lengthy discussion about passports, I
reminded him he needed a visa. "Oh no I don't, I've been to China many
times and never had to have one of those." I double checked, and sure
enough, his stay required a visa. When I told him this he said, "Look, I've
been to China 4 times and every time they have accepted my American
Express."

A woman called to make reservations, "I want to go from Chicago to
Hippopotamus, New York" The agent was at a loss for words. Finally, the
agent asked "Are you sure that's the name of the town?"
"Yes, what flights do you have?" replied the customer. After some
searching, the agent came back with, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I've looked up every
airport code in the country and can't find a Hippopotamus anywhere."
The customer retorted, "Oh don't be silly. Everyone knows where it is.
Check your map!"
The agent scoured a map of the state of New York and finally offered, "You
don't mean Buffalo, do you?"
"That's it! I knew it was a big animal!"

A woman was recently pulled up by the highway patrol for driving alone
in a carpool lane. She replied that she was pregnant, and therefore
there were two people in the car. This of course opens up a huge can
of worms.

The woman is actually (at the moment) expected to win her case.

This of course does not worry the ever resourceful California Highway
patrol, as they can then prosecute her under an obscure law that
forbids more than one person sitting on the driver's seat of a car...

The man sued ... and won! In delivering his ruling, the judge stated
that since the man held a policy from the company in which it had
warranted that the cigars were insurable, and also guaranteed that it
would insure the cigars against fire, without defining what it
considered to be "unacceptable fire," it was obligated to compensate
the insured for his loss. Rather than endure a lengthy and costly
appeal process, the insurance company accepted the judge's ruling and
paid the man $15,000 for the rare cigars he lost in "the fires."

After the man cashed his check, however, the insurance company had him
arrested ... on 24 counts of arson! With his own insurance claim and
testimony from the previous case being used as evidence against him,
the man was convicted of intentionally burning the rare cigars and
sentenced to 24 consecutive one year terms!

A woman was reporting her car as stolen, and mentioned that
there was a car phone in it. The policeman taking the report
called the phone and told the guy that answered that he had read
the ad in the newspaper and wanted to buy the car. They arranged
to meet, and the thief was arrested.

David Posman, 33, was arrested recently in Providence, R.I.,
after allegedly knocking out an armored car driver and stealing
the closest four bags of money. It turned out they contained
$800 in PENNIES, weighed 30 pounds each, and slowed him to a
stagger during his getaway so that police officers easily jumped
him from behind.

Louisiana: A man walked into a Circle-K, put a $20 bill on the
counter and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash
drawer, the man pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the
register, which the clerk promptly provided. The man took the
cash from the clerk and fled, leaving the $20 bill on the counter.
The total amount of cash he got from the drawer? Fifteen dollars.
[If someone points a gun at you and gives you money, was a crime
committed?]

Arkansas: Seems this guy wanted some beer pretty badly. He
decided that he'd just throw a cinder block through a liquor store
window, grab some booze, and run. So he lifted the cinder block
and heaved it over his head at the window. The cinder block bounced
back and hit the would-be thief on the head, knocking him unconscious.
Seems the liquor store window was made of Plexi-Glass. The whole
event was caught on videotape.

Ann Arbor: The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man
walked into a Burger King in Ypsilanti, Michigan at 12:50am,
flashed a gun and demanded cash. The clerk turned him down
because he said he couldn't open the cash register without a
food order. When the man ordered onion rings, the clerk said
they weren't available for breakfast. The man, frustrated,
walked away.

Kentucky: Two men tried to pull the front off a cash machine by
running a chain from the machine to the bumper of their pickup
truck. Instead of pulling the front panel off the machine, though,
they pulled the bumper off their truck. Scared, they left the scene
and drove home. With the chain still attached to the machine. With
their bumper still attached to the chain. With their vehicle's
license plate still attached to the bumper.

A thief burst into the bank one day wearing a ski mask and carrying
a gun. Aiming his gun at the guard, the thief yelled, "FREEZE,
MOTHER-STICKERS, THIS IS A F----UP!" For a moment, everyone was
silent. Then the snickers started. The guard completely lost it
and doubled over laughing. It probably saved his life, because
he'd been about to draw his gun. He couldn't have drawn and fired
before the thief got him. The thief ran away and is still at large.
In memory of the event, the bank later put a plaque on the wall
engraved "Freeze, mother-stickers, this is a f----up!"

This is the transcript of an ACTUAL radio conversation of a US naval ship with Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland in October, 1995. Radio conversation released by the Chief of Naval Operations 10-10-95.

Americans: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision.

Canadians: Recommend you divert YOUR course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: This is the Captain of a US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR course.

Canadians: No. I say again, you divert YOUR course.

Americans: THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS LINCOLN, THE SECOND LARGEST SHIP IN THE UNITED STATES' ATLANTIC FLEET. WE ARE ACCOMPANIED BY THREE DESTROYERS, THREE CRUISERS AND NUMEROUS SUPPORT VESSELS. I DEMAND THAT YOU
CHANGE YOUR COURSE 15 DEGREES NORTH, THAT'S ONE FIVE DEGREES NORTH, OR COUNTER-MEASURES WILL BE UNDERTAKEN TO ENSURE THE SAFETY OF THIS SHIP.

Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your call.

In-class assignment for Wednesday: Today we will be experimenting with
a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person
will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.
One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The
partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the
story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and
forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to
keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion
has been reached.

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he
liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind
off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about
him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out
of the question.

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron
now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than
the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had
spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17,"
he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established.
No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish
particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's
cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat
and across the cockpit.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt
one last pang of regret for psychologically brutalizing the one woman who
had ever truly loved him. Soon afterwards, earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes
Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her
newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited and bored her.
She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth--when the days had passed
unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to
distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things
around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she
pondered wistfully.

Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles about the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of
its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed
the unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left
Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were
determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage
of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying
enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop
them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion
missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his
top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast
of Guam, felt inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and
85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the
conference table, "We cannot allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty!
Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at
writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

A**hole.

Bitch.

So you think you're having a bad day. The following is taken from a
Florida newspaper:

A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio and his wife was in the
house in the kitchen. The man was racing the engine on the motorcycle
and somehow, the motorcycle slipped into gear. The man, still holding
the handlebars, was dragged through a glass patio door and the
motorcycle dumped onto the floor inside the house.

The wife, hearing the crash, ran into the dining room, and found her
husband laying on the floor, cut and bleeding, the motorcycle lying
next to him and the patio door shattered. The wife ran to the phone
and summoned an ambulance. Because they lived on a fairly large hill,
the wife went down the several flights of long steps to the street to
direct the paramedics to her husband.

After the ambulance arrived and transported the husband to the hospital,
the wife uprighted the motorcycle and pushed it outside. Seeing that
gas had spilled on the floor, the wife obtained some papers towels,
blotted up the gasoline, and threw the towels in the toilet.

The husband was treated at the hospital and was released to come home.
After arriving home, he looked at the shattered patio door and the
damage done to his motorcycle. He became despondent, went into the
bathroom, sat on the toilet and smoked a cigarette. After finishing
the cigarette, he flipped it between his legs into the toilet bowl
while still seated.

The wife, who was in the kitchen, heard a loud explosion and her husband
screaming. She ran into the bathroom and found her husband laying on the

floor. His trousers had been blown away and he was suffering burns on
the buttocks, the back of his legs and his groin. The wife again ran
to the phone and called for an ambulance.

The same ambulance crew was dispatched and the wife met them at the
street. The paramedics loaded the husband on the stretcher and began
carrying him to the street. While they were going down the stairs to
the street accompanied by the wife, one of the paramedics asked the
wife how the husband had burned himself. She told them and the
paramedics started laughing so hard, one of them tipped the stretcher
and dumped the husband out. He fell down the remaining steps and
broke his arm.

So, how about that for a monday morning starter ??

Mathematicians hunt elephants by going to Africa, throwing
out everything that is not an elephant, and catching one of
whatever is left. Professors of mathematics prove the
existence of at least one elephant and leave the capture of
an actual elephant as an exercise for one of their graduate
students.

Computer scientists hunt elephants using algorithm A:

1. Go to Africa
2. Start at the Cape of Good Hope
3. Work northward in an orderly manner, traversing the
continent alternately East and West.
4. During each traverse
a. Catch each animal seen
b. Compare each animal caught to a known elephant
c. Stop when a match is detected.

Experienced computer programmers modify Algorithm A by
placing a known elephant in Cairo to ensure that the
algorithm will terminate.

Engineers hunt elephants by going to Africa, catching gray
animals at random, and stopping when any one of them weighs
within plus or minus 15 percent of any previously observed
elephant.

Statisticians hunt the first animal they see N times and
call it an elephant.

Consultants don't hunt elephants, but they can be hired by
the hour to advise those who do.

Salespeople don't hunt elephants but spend their time
selling elephants they haven't caught, for delivery two
days before the season opens. Software salespeople ship the
first thing they catch and write up an invoice for an
elephant. Hardware salespeople catch rabbits, paint them
gray and sell them as "desktop elephants."

There was a knock on the door. It was the man from Microsoft.

"Not you again," I said.

"Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly. "I guess you know why I'm
here."

Indeed I did. Microsoft's $300 million campaign to promote the
Windows 95 operating system was meant to be universally effective, to
convince every human being on the planet that Windows 95 was an
essential, some would say integral, part of living. Problem was, not
everyone had bought it.
Specifically, I hadn't bought it. I was the Last Human Being Without
Windows 95. And now this little man from Microsoft was at my door,
and he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"No," I said.

"You know I can't take that," he said, pulling out a copy of Windows
95 from a briefcase. "Come on. Just one copy. That's all we ask."

"Not interested," I said. "Look, isn't there someone else you can go
bother for a while? There's got to be someone else on the planet who
doesn't have a copy."

"Well, no," The Microsoft man said. "You're the only one."

"You can't be serious. Not everyone on the planet has a computer," I
said.
"Hell, not everyone on the planet has a PC! Some people own
Macintoshes, which run their own operating system. And some people
who have PCs run OS/2, though I hear that's just a rumor. In short,
there are some people who just have no use for Windows 95."

The Microsoft man look perplexed. "I'm missing your point," he said.

"Use!" I screamed. "Use! Use! Use! Why BUY it, if you can't USE
it?"

"Well, I don't know anything about this 'use' thing you're going on
about," The Microsoft man said. "All I know is that according to our
records, everyone else on the planet has a copy."

"People without computers?"

"Got 'em."

"Amazonian Indians?"

"We had to get some malaria shots to go in, but yes."

"The Amish."

"Check."

"Oh, come on," I said. "They don't even wear BUTTONS. How did you
get them to buy a computer operating system?"

"We told them there were actually 95 very small windows in the box,"
the Microsoft man admitted. "We sort of lied. Which means we are all
going to Hell, every single employee of Microsoft." He was somber for
a minute, but then perked right up. "But that's not the point!" he
said. "The point is, EVERYONE has a copy. Except you."

"So what?" I said. "If everyone else jumped off a cliff, would you
expect me to do it, too?"

"If we spent $300 million advertising it? Absolutely."

"No."

"Jeez, back to that again," the Microsoft man said. "Hey. I'll tell
you what. I'll GIVE you a copy. For free. Just take it and install
it on your computer." He waved the box in front of me.

"No," I said again. "No offense, pal. But I don't need it. And
frankly, your whole advertising blitz has sort of offended me. I
mean, it's a computer operating system! Great. Fine.
Swell. Whatever. But you guys are advertising it like it creates world
peace or something."

"It did."

"Pardon?"

"World peace. It was part of the original design. Really. One
button access. Click on it, poof, end to strife and hunger. Simple."

"So what happened?"

"Well, you know," he said. "It took up a lot of space on the hard
drive. We had to decide between it or the Microsoft Network. Anyway,
we couldn't figure out how to make a profit off of world peace."

"Go away," I said.

"I can't," he said. "I'll be killed if I fail.."

"You have got to be kidding," I said.

"Look," the Microsoft man said, "We sold this to the AMISH. The
Amish!
Right now, they're opening the boxes and figuring out they've been had.
We'll be pitchforked if we ever step into Western Pennsyvania again.
But we did it. So to have YOU holding out, well, it's embarassing.
It's embarassing to the company. It's embarassing to the product.
It's embarassing to BILL."

"Bill Gates does not care about me," I said.

"He's watching right now," the Microsoft man said. "Borrowed one of
those military spy satellites just for the purpose. It's also got one
of those high-powered lasers. You close that door on me, zap, I'm a
pile of grey ash."

"He wouldn't do that," I said, "He might hit that copy of Windows 95
by accident."

"Oh, Bill's gotten pretty good with that laser," the Microsoft man
said, nervously. "Okay. I wasn't supposed to do this, but you leave
me no choice.
If you take this copy of Windows 95, we will reward you handsomely.
In fact, we'll give you your own Caribbean island! How does
Montserrat sound?"

"Terrible. There's an active volcano there."

"It's only a small one," the Microsoft man said.

"Look," I said, "even if you DID convince me to take that copy of
Windows 95, what would you do then? You'd have totally saturated the
market. That would be it. No new worlds to conquer. What would you
do then?"

The Microsoft man held up another box and gave it to me.

"'Windows 95....For Pets'?!?!?"

"There's a LOT of domestic animals out there," he said.

I shut the door quickly. There was a surprised yelp, the sound of a
laser,and then nothing.

... So the documentary-makers stick with sharks. Generally, their
procedure is to scatter bleeding fish pieces around their boat, so as
to infest the waters. I would estimate that the primary food source of
sharks today is bleeding fish pieces scattered by people making
documentaries. Once the sharks arrive, they are generally fairly
listless. The general shark attitude seems to be: "Oh God, another
documentary." So the divers have to somehow goad them into attacking,
under the guise of Scientific Research. "We know very little about the
effect of electricity on sharks," the narrator will say, in a deeply
scientific voice. "That is why Todd is going to jab this Great White
in the testicles with a cattle prod." The divers keep this kind of
thing up until the shark finally gets irritated and snaps at them, and
then they act as though this was a totally unexpected and very
dangerous development, although clearly it is what they wanted all
along.

• If using a touch-tone, press random numbers while ordering. Ask
  the person taking the order to stop doing that.
  

• Terminate the call with, "Remember, we never had this
  conversation."
  

• Tell the order taker a rival pizza place is on the other line and
  you're going with the lowest bidder.
  

• Sing the order to the tune of your favorite song from
  Metallica's "Master of Puppets" CD.
  

• Do not name the toppings you want. Rather, spell them out.
  

• Put an extra edge in your voice when you say "crazy bread."
  

• Change your accent every three seconds.
  

• Order 52 pepperoni slices prepared in a fractal pattern as
  follows from an equation you are about to dictate. Ask if they need
  paper.
  

• Act like you know the order taker from somewhere. Say
  "Bed-Wetters' Camp, right?"
  

• Start your order with "I'd like. . . ". A little later, slap
  yourself and say "No, I don't."
  

• If they repeat the order to make sure they have it right, say
  "OK. That'll be $10.99; please pull up to the window."
  

• Rent a pizza.
  

• Ask if you get to keep the pizza box. When they say yes, heave a
  sigh of relief.
  

• Move the mouthpiece farther and farther from your lips as you
  speak. When the call ends, jerk the mouthpiece back into place and
  scream goodbye at the top of your lungs.
  

• Play a sitar in the background.
  

• Say it's your anniversary and you'd appreciate if the deliverer
  hid behind some furniture waiting for your spouse to arrive so you
  can surprise him/her.
  

• Ask if they have any idea what is at stake with this pizza.
  

• Doze off in the middle of the order, catch yourself, and say
  "Where was I? Who are you?"
  

• Ask what their phone number is. Hang up, call them, and ask
  again.
  

• Start the conversation with "My Call to (Pizza Place), Take 1,
  and. . . action!"
  

• Ask about pizza maintenance and repair.
  

• Start the conversation by reciting today's date and saying,
  "This may be my last entry."
  

• Detect the order taker's psychic aura. Use it to your advantage.
  

• Learn to play a blues riff on the harmonica. Stop talking at
  regular intervals to play it.
  

• Put them on hold.
  

• Teach the order taker a secret code. Use the code on all
  subsequent orders.
  

• Make the first topping you order mushrooms. Make the last thing
  you say "No mushrooms, please." Hang up before they have a chance to
  respond.
  

• When the order is repeated, change it slightly. When it is
  repeated again, change it again. On the third time, say "You just
  don't get it, do you?"
  

• While on the phone, fake entering puberty. Fluctuate pitch
  often; act embarrassed.
  

• Dance all around the word "pizza." Avoid saying it at all costs.
  If he/she says it, say "Please don't mention that word."
  

• Have a movie with a good car chase scene playing loudly in the
  background. Yell "OW!" when a bullet is fired.
  

Symptom: Drinking fails to give satisfaction and taste; beer unusually
pale
and clear.
Fault: Glass is empty.
Solution: Find someone who will buy you another pint.

Symptom: Room is spinning.
Fault: Somebody is spinning your barstool.
Solution: Vomit on person doing the spinning.

Symptom: Feet cold and wet.
Fault: Glass being held at incorrect angle.
Solution: Turn glass so that open end is pointing at ceiling.

Symptom: Feet warm and wet.
Fault: Loss of self-control.
Solution: Go and stand beside nearest dog. After a while complain to its
owner about its lack of house training.

Symptom: Lap cool and wet.
Fault: Drooling on yourself.
Solution: Change position so that you are drooling on someone else.

Symptom: Bar blurred.
Fault: You are looking through the bottom of your empty glass.
Solution: Find someone who will buy you another pint.

Symptom: Bar moving.
Fault: You are being carried out.
Solution: Find out if you are being taken to another bar. If not complain
loudly that you are being hijacked.

Symptom: Bar looks like a circus.
Fault: You're at a circus.
Solution: Go to a bar.

I am glad to report that my husband who was reported missing is dead.

This is my eighth child, what are you going to do about it?

Please find for certain if my husband is dead, the man I am living with
can't eat or do anything until he finds out.

I am very annoyed that you have branded my son illiterate, as this is a
lie. I was married to his father a week before he was born.

My husband had his project cut off two weeks ago, and I haven't had any
relief since.

Unless I get my money soon, I will be forced to lead an immortal life.

You have changed my little boy to a little girl. Will this make any
difference?

I want money as quick as I can get it. I have been in bed with the
doctor for two weeks and this doesn't seem to do me any good. If things
don't improve I will be forced to send for another doctor.

Please send me a claim form as I have had a baby. I had one before but
it got dirty and I burned it.

I cannot pay the full amount at the moment as my husband is in
hospital. As soon as I can I will send on the remains.

It was in Yugoslavia that I learned to drink plum brandy and that I
discovered that toilet paper was a necessity of life.

Jon's relatives were very nice people. However, I was sure they wanted to
get rid of us when they pulled out the cognac. Now I have been told that
there is really good cognac, but I have yet to be served any. It just seems
a terrible waste to me to distil white wine into this stuff. Cognac has all
the bad properties of poor white wine and none of the good properties of a
good whiskey.

After two days of cognac even Jon suggested that we visit his other
relatives who were vacationing on the Yugoslav Adriatic coast. And so out
of the mountains descended the motorcycle gang from hell.

Wasn't much of gang as Dean's cycle began to run rough at any speed above 30
mph. It's not at all impressive to have a two cylindar, two cycle Russian
car pass you going up hill. But...we finally made it back to Ljubljana.

Now here is a real hint. Ride a motorcycle that the locals are familiar
with or be prepared to do all your own work. The locals knew lots about
BMWs, but they didn't have a clue about Triumphs. The best we could do was
a "eine moment" and they would disappear for ten or fifteen minutes. So, we
spent the next two days trying to trace the problem ourselves.

We'd work for and hour and then try it out. Work great. Load everything up
and start out. Problem shows back up in 10 or 15 miles. This was a very
un-fun part of the trip. After two days of trial and error when found that
the problem was an intermittent connection on one of the connectors going to
one of the coils. Don't you love Lucas Electrics?! (I forget most you have
never had to ride with them. Let me just say that Lucas is know as the
prince of darkness and that Sir Lucas, the owner of the company, is reported
to have said that Gentlemen do not drive after dark.)

I drank a lot of plum brandy during this time and I discovered that a bottle
of plum brandy falling from the back of a moving motorcycle will not break 7
times out of 10! I assume that it is something like dropping eggs and has
something to do with the horizontal vs vertical motion. If any of you care
to try this out, I would be more than happy of help you drink half the
bottle (I never tried with a full bottle.)

It was also during this time that I discovered the purity and holy aspects
of toilet paper. As you move toward and down the coast of the Adriatic the
climate and people become more eastern mediterranean in nature and aspect.
And it was somewhere down here that we began to encounter the "bombsite"
toilet in great numbers.

For those of you who have not had the opportunity to travel where the
"bombsite" is used, please let me enlighten you to the fact that the US
style sitdown toilet is not a worldwide standard. In fact, I would guess
that a majority of the people of the world uses the "bombsite" as the
standard toilet.

These toilets consist of a flat porcelain fixture level with the floor. In
the center of the fixture is a hole approximately eight inches in diameter.
On either side of the hole and slightly in front of it are two pads. The
user is expected to approach the hole, do a 180 degree turn, pull down the
pants (or up the skirt), backup until the feet are on the pads, and then
squat carefully to the proper height. The problem is that unless you grew
up with these things, it is a little hard to accurately judge the correct
position for dropping your load. I think that it was Dean who came up with
the term "bombsite" and it seemed appropriate.

Believe me when I say that these toilets are not the place for long
contemplative sessions ( and I sometimes do my best thinking while sitting
). It is also difficult to keep from dragging your pants on the....porcelain
as you squat (I see why many men in some countries wear a skirt type
arrangement).

Another aspect of eastern culture is that toilet paper definitely is not
furnished.

Now, get the picture...hot weather, "bombsites", no toilet paper. We needed
only one more thing to complete this disaster and it took the form of a
fountain (spigot really) beside the road. It was hot. The bikes were hot,
the leather coats were hot, and we were hot. The road was two lanes.
Traffic was heavy. When the road side spigot came up, we all stopped and
soaked in the water. It was great. Cool, refreshing, and only a slightly
metalic taste.

Let it be said that my intestines held on for a good hour after we had
tanked up. At that point it became necessary to stop immediately. There
are few 'public' toilets in Yugoslavia, but severe diarrhea will cause you
to forget all about anything but getting your pants down. Jon and Dean
thought that the whole thing was very, very funny. They even considered it
humorous when I tore up T-shirts to use for toilet paper. They considered
it less funny when I grabbed the map and threatened to us it. I exhausted
everything we had that could possibly be conceived for use as toilet paper.
I even used a few things that could be termed as "highly creative."

It was at this point that God saw fit to complete this comedy of errors.
Dean and Jon suddenly discovered that they too had acquired my malady.
Fortunately for them, we were passing what might be called a 'public
facility.' It had no doors and did not look as if it had been cleaned in
years, but then I did say that severe need makes any port look good.

But God was not finished. She saw fit to include the final two aspects of
the equation. "Bombsite" toilets and no toilet paper. As I remember Jon
just dropped his bike as he ran for the toilet. Dean at least got the kick
stand down. I will say, however, that Jon did have his pants down as he
cleared the door while Dean was still struggling with buttons on his.

Perhaps it was just as well for Dean that he didn't get his pants down as
quickly. Jon planted on foot on the floor pad and attempted a 180 degree
spin into position, but discovered too late that the floor was almost as
slick as the Yugoslav roads. To put it bluntly, he let go and sat down at
the same time. Missed the hole too. Dean actually made it. I was rolling
in the dirt.

At this point there was some serious negotiations over the remaining
"excess" clothing that could be used for toilet paper and clean up. I was
definitely negoitating from a strong point being the only one still standing
(so to speak).

And this is how I learned the godly and holy aspects of toilet paper. Thou
shalt always carry at least two full rolls of pure white toilet paper on
thoust motorcycle. (eleventh commandment) (especially when traveling
overseas. bottle water is also a good idea TJ)

Well...someone should tell our to be world rider about this as I see that he
is no longer reading the group. I was really doing this for him. I have
tried to make some of the things that I have seen and learned interesting
for him and for you. However, I now have a deadline at work and my next two
weeks are going to be 16 hour days. So...I'm going to quit for awhile. In
a few weeks I will ask if there is still interest in my continuing these
postings. If there is, let me know and I will go on.

Someone asked if these really happened or if I enlarged on these in any way.
They did really happen and I have not enlarged on them. This is what life
is really like. None of the thing we call life sitting infront of a CRT all
day. Take a motorcycle trip; better yet, take three or four months and take
a motorcycle trip in a foreign country. Some of it will be great and some
of it will be really bad, but you will live! Don't have an itinerary, don't
have a time line. Let it flow and what will happen to you will be a lot
like the things I have described. They're really real man; every damn thing
happened just like I have told it. Go see for yourself and as soon as my
kids get out of high school, I'll be back out there with you.

Cheers!

Man wanted to work in dynamite factory. Must be willing to travel.

Stock up and save. Limit: one.

3-year old teacher needed for pre-school. Experience preferred.

Mixing bowl set designed to please a cook with round bottom
for efficient beating.

Dinner Special -- Turkey $2.35; Chicken or Beef $2.25; Children $2.00

Now is your chance to have your ears pierced and get an extra pair to
take home, too.

We do not tear your clothing with machinery. We do it
carefully by hand.

Vacation Special: have your home exterminated. Get rid of
aunts. Zap does the job in 24 hours.

For Rent: 6-room hated apartment.

Used Cars: Why go elsewhere to be cheated. Come here first.

Wanted. Man to take care of cow that does not smoke or drink.

Our bikinis are exciting. They are simply the tops.

Wanted. Widower with school age children requires person to
assume general housekeeping duties. Must be capable of
contributing to growth of family.

And now, the Superstore-unequaled in size, unmatched in
variety, unrivaled inconvenience.

You actually wore a blue ribbon to protest the Communications
Decency Act.

You kiss your girlfriend's home page.

Your bookmark takes 15 minutes to scroll from top to bottom.

Your eyeglasses have a web site burned in on them.

You find yourself brainstorming for new subjects to search.

You refuse to go to a vacation spot with no electricity and
no phone lines.

You finally do take that vacation, but only after buying a
cellular modem and a laptop.

You spend half of the plane trip with your laptop on your
lap...
and your child in the overhead compartment.

All your daydreaming is preoccupied with getting a faster
connection to the net: 28.8...ISDN...cable modem...T1...T3.

And even your night dreams are in HTML.

You turn off your modem and get this awful empty feeling, like
you just pulled the plug on a loved one.

You step out of your room and realize that your parents have
moved
and you don't have a clue when it happened.

Your wife drapes a blond wig over your monitor to remind you of
what she looks like.

All of your friends have an @ in their names.

When looking at a pageful of someone else's links, you notice
all
of them are already highlighted in purple.

Your dog has its own home page.

You've already visited all the links at Yahoo and you're halfway
through Lycos.

You can't call your mother...she doesn't have a modem.

You check your mail. It says "no new messages." So you check it
again.

You refer to your age as 3.x.

You have commandeered your teenager's phone line for the net and
even his friends know not to call on his line anymore.

Your phone bill comes to your doorstep in a box.

Even though you died last week, you've managed to retain OPS on
your favorite IRC channel.

You code your homework in HTML and give your instructor the URL.

You don't know the sex of three of your closest friends,
because they have neutral nicknames and you never bothered to
ask.

You name your children Eudora, Mozilla and Dotcom.

You laugh at people with 2400 baud modems.

Your husband tells you he's had the beard for 2 months.

You miss more than five meals a week downloading the latest
games
from Apogee.

You start looking for hot HTML addresses in public restrooms.

You wake up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and stop and check
your e-mail on the way back to bed.

Your friends no longer send you e-mail...they just log on to
your
IRC channel.

Your wife makes a new rule: "The computer cannot come to bed."

You are so familiar with the WWW that you find the search
engines
useless.

You never have to deal with busy signals when calling your
ISP...because you never log off.

The last girl you picked up was only a jpeg.

You ask a plumber how much it would cost to replace the chair in
front of your computer with a toilet.

You forget what year it is.

You start tilting your head sideways to smile.

You ask your doctor to implant a gig in your brain.

You begin to wonder how on earth your service provider is
allowed
to call 200 hours per month "unlimited."

You turn on your computer and turn off your wife.

Your wife says communication is important in a marriage...so you
buy another computer and install a second phone line so the two
of
you can chat.

As your car crashes through the guardrail on a mountain road,
your first instinct is to search for the "back" button.