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 Release The Nuts | | By: anonymous | Published: 08/09/2005 | | |  |
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This one is from Seaweedy. It is an oldie but goodie.
Three guys who had been at the nut house for awhile are scheduled to have a test to find out if they are cured and can be released. One guy is called in to the testing room while the other two wait for him in the waiting room.
The guy sits down across the desk from the doctor who will test him. "You just have to answer one easy question," says the doc, touching his elbow. "What is this?"
The guy replies, "That's your knee." He is told he got the question wrong and he will not be released. He rejoins his friends in the waiting room.
The 2nd guy is called in. "You just have to answer one question," says the doctor, touching his hand. "What is this?"
The guy says, "That's your foot," and he is told to leave the room and send the 3rd guy in.
The third guy enters and sits down, and the doctor says, "You just have to answer one easy question." Touching his arm the doc asks, "What is this?"
The guy says, "That's your arm," and then he is thrilled to hear the doctor announce that he is deemed sane and ready for release.
The guy goes out to the waiting room and tells his two friends that he passed the test. The first two inmates ask him excitedly, "That is amazing. How did you figure out the answer?"
In reply the 3rd guy points to his temple and says, "Easy ... I used my ass!" Why not join the rest of us on the inside and get all of Goofball.com? |  | |  | Related Links Your Nuts, You're Nuts
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This should cover the next couople of days
(3 replies)
started by
thegrandpatron
(08.12.2005 8:10:42 AM EST)
One time I was attracted to a woman named Elaine. I asked her out to a movie; she accepts and we have a pretty good time. A few nights later I asked her out to dinner, and again we enjoyed ourselves. We continued to see each other regularly, and after a while neither of us is seeing anyone else.
And then, one evening when we're driving home, a thought occurs to Elaine. Without really thinking, she says it aloud, "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"
And then there is silence in the car.
To Elaine it seemed like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself, "Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And I知 thinking, "Gosh. Six months."
Then Elaine is thinking, "But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward. I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this person?"
And I知 thinking, "So that means it was...let's see...February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer, which means...lemme check the odometer. Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here."
Elaine is thinking, "He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment -- maybe he has sensed - even before I sensed it - that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected."
And I知 thinking, I'm gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting right. And they'd better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent thieves six hundred dollars."
And Elaine is thinking, "He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure."
I知 thinking, "They'll probably say it's only a ninety-day warranty. Scumbags."
And Elaine is thinking, "Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right here next to a perfectly good person, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy."
I知 thinking, "Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their..."
"GP," Elaine says aloud.
"What?" I say, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I never should have. Oh God, I feel so." (She breaks down, sobbing.)
"What?" says me.
"I'm such a fool," Elaine sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says me.
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Elaine says.
"No!" I say, glad to finally know the correct answer.
"It's just that...it's that I. I need some time," Elaine says.
(There is a fifteen-second pause while I, thinking as fast as I can, tries to come up with a safe response. Finally I come up with one that I thinks might work.)
"Yes," I says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.) "Oh, Patron, do you really feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" I axe.
"That way about time," says Elaine.
"Oh," says me. "Yes."
(Elaine turns to face me and gazes deeply into my eyes, causing me to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
"Thank you, GP," she says.
"Thank you," I say.
Then I take her home, and she lies on her bed -- a conflicted, tortured soul -- and weeps until dawn.
When I gets back to my place, I opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two Czechoslovakians women I never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of my mind tells me that something major was going on back there in the car, but I is pretty sure there is no way I will ever understand what, and so I figure it's better if I just doesn't think about it.
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, every expression, every gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it either.
Meanwhile, while I was playing racquetball one day with a mutual friend of mine and Elaine's, I paused just before serving, frowned and axed, "Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?"
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is my typical day.
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