Q: What is the difference between hearing an English horn solo and being tortured?
A: One is far more painful to your ears.

Q: What’s the name of a good English horn player?
A: I’ll tell you when I meet one.

Q: How many English horn players does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One, but he gyrates so much, he’ll fall off the ladder.

Q: Why is wetting your pants like playing an English Horn?
A: Both give you a warm feeling but no one notices.

A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.

A bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory.

If at first you do succeed, try not to look astonished.

Help wanted telepath: you know where to apply

I’m just driving this way to get you mad.

Keep honking, I’m reloading.

Hang up and drive.

Guns don’t kill people, postal workers do.

Ask me about microwaving cats for fun and profit.

I said “no” to drugs, but they just wouldn’t listen.

The Top 10 Signs You’re Flying On A Bad Airline

The engine’s being held on by duct tape.

You see the Gorilla from those old Samsonite commercials running loose up and down the aisles.

In-flight movie has “Ernest” in its title.

Pilot informs you that you’re at cruising altitude and he’s gonna put the top down.

Instead of Peanuts, you get a healthy helping of SPAM.

As you’re taking off, the stewardess mentions the phrase “Guest Pilot Program”

The seats are wet due to flotation device moisture.

The stewardess asks you to join the Mile High Club…”she” has a beard and bigger arms than you!

Pilot asks if there is anyone else who wants a shot of Beam before he finishes the bottle.

You look down and see a copy of “Fixing a Plane for Dummies” by the mechanic’s feet!!!

The policeman arrived at the scene of an accident to find that a car had struck a telephone pole. Searching for witnesses, he discovered a pale, nervous young man in work clothes who claimed he was an eyewitness.

“Exactly where were you at the time of the accident?” inquired the officer.

“Mister,” exclaimed the telephone lineman, “I was at the top of the pole!”

Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Gertie!
Gertie who!
Gertie laundry!

Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Ghana!
Ghana who!
Ghana dance!

Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Ghent!
Ghent who!
Ghent out of here!

Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Gilda!
Gilda who!
Gilda umpire!

Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Gina!
Gina who!
Gina you don’t recognize me!

The animals were bored. Finally, the lion had an idea. “I know a really exciting game that the humans play called football. I’ve seen it on T.V.”

He proceeded to describe it to the rest of the animals and they all got excited about it so they decided to play. They went out to the field and chose up teams and were ready to begin.

The lion’s team received. They were able to get two first downs and then had to punt. The mule punted and the rhino was back deep for the kick. He caught the ball, lowered his head and charged. First, he crushed a roadrunner, then two rabbits. He gored a wildebeast, knocked over two cows, and broke through to daylight, scoring six.

Unfortunately, they lacked a placekicker, and the score remained 6 - 0.

Late in the first half the lion’s team scored a touchdown and the mule kicked the extra point. The lion’s team led at halftime 7 - 6. In the locker room, the lion gave a peptalk.

“Look you guys. We can win this game. We’ve got the lead and they only have one real threat. We’ve got to keep the ball away from the rhino, he’s a killer. Mule, when you kick off be sure to keep it away from the rhino.”

The second half began. Just as the mule was about to kick off, the rhino’s team changed formation and the ball went directly to the rhino. Once again, the rhino lowered his head and was off running. First, he stomped two gazelles. He skewered a zebra, and bulldozed an elephant out of the way. It looked like he was home free. Suddenly at the twenty yard line, he dropped over dead. There were no other animals in sight anywhere near him. The lion went over to see what had happened. Right next to the dead rhino he saw a small centipede.

“Did you do this?” he asked the centipede.

“Yeah, I did.” the centipede replied.

The lion retorted, “Where were you during the first half?”

“I was putting on my shoes.”

Biology Christmas
THE NIGHT BEFORE DEFENCE
(or A Visit From Citrate)

Twas the night before defence, when all through te lab
Not a gel box was shaking, with stain or with MAb;
The columns were hung in the cold room with care,
In hopes that my protein, I soon could prepare;

The post-docs were nestled all smug in their beds,
While extracts of barley muddled their heads;
With the tech in the suburbs and PI the same,
I had just settled down to another video game.

When out of the fridge there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the terminal to see what was the matter.
Away to the cold box, I flew like a flash
But the stench was o’erpowering and I threw up beef hash.

The mould on the dampest of walls were cold
Had the softness of kittens only seven weeks old;
When what to my view, a thing I despise
But a half eaten sandwich and four tiny mice;

With a little old scientist, so lively and galling,
I knew at a glance was Linus Pauling.
More vapid than undergrads, his charges they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them rude names.

“Now, Watson! Now Francis! You strange little modellers!
On Luria! On Bertani! You stupid old broth’lers!
To the top of the bench, to the top of the wall!
Purify! Purify! Purify all!”

As dry heaves before the commitee meeting, bend
A young student’s body and his colon distend,
So up their earlobes, acytes they grew,
With a sack full of antibodies, their skin turning blue.

And then, for a second, I heard from the ‘fuge,
An unbalanced rotor spinning something too huge.
Where I put down my hand, to better hear the sound,
Came the snapping of sparks from a wire sans ground.

Pauling’s hair was al wavy, and I thought I must be sick
`Cause the curls in his hair looked just like a helix.
On an arm load of oranges, he started to snack
An I recalled his fetish with citrate, the quack.

His eyes were all wrinkled, but the cheeks were yet red;
Not too shabby for a man who was several years dead;
The leer of his smile was just a tad scary
And the snow on his rooftop made his head yet quite hairy;

The end of a pipette, he held in his teeth
And a pile of kimwipes lay around his big feet.
He held a small vial of something quite gel-ly,
A mercaptan no doubt, for it make him quite smelly.

He changed `round the columns, adding to the confusion
And I laughed to spite my own paranoid delusion.
A wink of his eye and a rotation of his head,
Told me whatever I drank would soon leave me dead.

He spoke not a word, just buggered up my work,
And dried all my resins, that silly old jerk.
And separating his middle finger from first, fourth and third,
That crazy, old bugger, just flipped me the bird.

He grabbed up his cohorts and ran down the hall,
And away they all flew, letting me take the fall.
That is why, dear Commitee, I am sorry to say,
I need a five year extension, starting today.