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November 25, 2005


...photocopying your butt at the office party.

(Via Gizmodo)


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With the increase in size of the average North American, maybe making the glass a millimetre thicker isn't enough. How about foot thick glass?

... it wasn't until the machine was fixed and her colleagues all sober that copies of her backside starting pouring from the machine...
Talk about your Ghost of Christmas's Past..
" Do you remember when Suzi broke the copier at the Christmas party, and the repair guy.."

Boss: Johnson, what possesed you to try to photocopy your ass ?
Johnson: Well, it does say "Can-on"..
Boss: Don't get cheeky with me, Johnson..

makes mental note to self to not make butt copies until verifying the thickness of the copier glass.

*makes note to self to wash hands after using any copy machine*

I make note of this quote: "...one of the most alarming tales comes to us from service engineer Steven Mannion of northern England. 'I had to repair a machine with a photocopy of a man's groin jammed in it,' Mannion said." Could it have been a copy made by "...Grand Master Tu Jin-Sheng, best known for his Iron Crotch..."?

"Office Identity Parade" wbagnfarb.

"...supersizing of the western physique"? -Is that some kind of crack at the U.S.? And if so, why are they interviewing 3 Canon employees from the U.K.? Is that where copier repairmen drive from?

Key Quote: We can only hope he meant it was the photocopy that was jammed in the machine.

Reminds me of the time I convinced Gladys, our receptionist, that our regional sales manager's face was a copy machine. She ended up breaking his glasses, and they're pretty thick.

Oh, and gicjax - UK is part of the West.

Do you want to rock

I nearly got in trouble for this once but I was innocent. I was making copies of my manager's face, who just happened to LOOK like a butt. I'm so glad that's behind me now...

Christobol: Thanks for the geography lesson :) ...Butt still...

Okay, so maybe this was already posted a long, long time ago in a galaxy far away (either that or I just wasn't online that day ) but I can't beleive this story doesn't relate to this link.

I just wonder whether while photocopying, people are inclined to hit "enlarge" when copying some "parts" and "reduce" when copying other "parts".

More importantly, I wonder whether I could get a grant to study this.

New ad for weight-loss program:


Just don't get your butt in a sling.....

Stealing the Blog for a moment, for what I am sure will be posted tommorow: Pat Morita Obituary

May he rest in a Heaven that has never seen the Karate Kid...

Jacki~ *sniff* Thanks for filling us in. I always liked Pat Morita. I was astounded when I found out that his accent from "Karate Kid" was put on because that was all I'd ever seen him in until I saw Savannah Smiles. Listening to him talk without it in an interview was very surreal to me. I grew up watching those movies.

You saw When Savannah Smiles too?

That makes three of us (including my mother that took me to the film).

Man, we are old.

Think how old the Blog must feel lol (couldn't resist.)

C-bol, you're sick, man, sick.


Oooh, Savanah Smiles has a scene where they used the parking lot of my dad's store - it's just before Bootsie go into the pharmacy. We were so proud.

I heard about Pat Morita passing also, and am sad. But I am APPALLED that yall only remember him from The Karate Kid and Savannah Smiles. Am I the ONLY geezer here that remembers him from Happy Days???? Sheesh. He was awesome. And belated Happy Turkey Day to all.

Mrs. S~ I think Happy Days was before my time. I know the theme song though. We sang it in some kind of oldies medley in Swing Choir. The first Karate Kid movie was made the year I was born.

Jacki~ Didn't see it when it came out; my sister rented it a few years ago and we fell in love with it.

BJ~ Cool!


You STILL inspire people.



You STILL inspire people.


Deck the Halls with Dreams of Beaches…Fah lah lah lah lah… lah lah lah lah

By Carson Cockman

It is now Thanksgiving here in chilly North Carolina. This means that I am as stuffed with dressing as my former poultrified victim. The family is meeting in full legislative session. There is turkey on the table and Turkey in the conversation. It also means it is colder than a witch's kitty and I am dreaming of an island getaway.

Versus You decide.

In my mind I do not see the yard full of leaves and the frost on the windows. I see warm windswept beaches and waving palms. I can almost feel the white sand tickling my toes as it trickles down my meta-tarsals.

I close my eyes and inhale. Is that coconut rum I detect?

No. Wait. That is just brother Alan's bad case of flatulence. Ewwww.

Nothing says getaway like Alan passing gas. Trust me.

I shake my head to remove the image and the waft. I relent to the desire to go back to my daydream.

Happy dolphins are doing backward tail stands and skreeing at me in a friendly fashion. I think I'll join them in the warm tropical waters.

As I wash the dishes in my mother’s sink, I really am doing the hand squirt thingy with Flipper just to make him jealous of my opposable thumbs.

Flipper jumps twenty feet out of the water and splashes me. Somehow I think thumbs may be over-rated.

I don’t see Flipper worrying about the heating bill nor arguing with his siblings about who is the best quarterback in the history of the NFL.

Flipper is not plopping Alka Seltzer like Pez and gulping Milk of Magnesia like it was Gatorade.

No. Flipper is doing the inverted tail wave beckoning me to come deeper into the sea of tropical desire. Come into the Gulf Stream of Freedom he squeaks. I can almost understand him. Come and play. I am sure that is what he is telling me.

But alas, the fishing boat of Responsibility, manned by the gaffer of economic drudgery, spikes me and flips me onto the deck of procrastination.

My only hope is that the boat runs out of the gas of financial slavery, sinks into the water of Freedom and I am set adrift in the tropical paradise of eternal frivolity.

As I swim and play with Flipper again I catch a whiff of coconut rum very close…


Maybe I should just hope for Alan to find the Bean-o of Environmental purity.

sorry about the versus, you decide reference. That was a caption for two photos.

One time my Moms coworker kept daring my mom to copy her butt on their photocopier on New Years two years ago. Mom said he kept asking, but she kept saying no, but then she gave up and made a photocopy, of her coworkers face!

Later that day we picked up Mom from MP station, with her photocopy of Fred's face squished for some reason.

very nice Carson!

Ok, I lost the what the heck the thread was talking about a long time ago. But, Mrs. Swooshman, I know him as Arnold, too. (What about Al???) I even saw him in the Karate Kid when my younger sis was a mere child, and thought, Look, Arnold is a karate teacher! If Happy Days is before your time, then I am way older than I want to admit to myself.

Oh. My. God. Happy Days debuted the year I graduated high school. Karate Kid came out the year my first child was born.

*dawning realization that I must be frikkin' ancient.*

*goes off to buy burial plot...*

Mr. C~ Ancient, but still witty. Don't die any time soon; you can be my honorary dad since you're the right age. You'll get all the perks of having a daughter who shares your interests with none of the drawbacks. You won't have to give me money or listen to me whine. Much. ;-)


Let me do what I do with all my kids...

*hands Bumble my wallet, car keys, and credit cards...*

And I need to meet all of your boyfriends before you go out on a date, young lady. And you are NOT going out dressed like that.

Well ... I went to HS with those guys in Happy Days ... that not only makes me old enuf to drive the Geezer Bus, but I can always be adopted as a spare grandpa ...

Shhh ... don't cry ... nevermind what he says, you can go out dressed any way you want* ... and here's a little extra money for treats, in case he din't give you enuf ...

... *as long as 98 percent of all your body is covered ... just like the bathing suits they wore when I was growing up ...

Mr. C ~ if my calculations are correct, then you're (not your)not even 50. I'm thinkin' you're still Young!

And U.O., well, you..uh.. JUST KIDDING! But you don't mean the kind of bathing suits that the old guy in the Country Time Lemonade commercial wore, do you? Cause that's just scary.

Mr. C~ Don't worry. I rarely (all right, never) get asked on dates and I'm wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. The kind of jeans that cover my whole butt and don't show my (non-thong) undies. Which is probably why I don't get dates. OK, I lied about the whining part.

What kind of car?

U.O~ You're a dear. :-)

*good-night cheek pecks to U.O, Mr. C, and all the rest of you who need them*

Tnx Bumble ... that's resting right next to where all the other g'kids kisses were when we left Fargo ... study diligently, now ... and get plenty of rest ...

(No, I was kidding about the bathing suits ...)

I never knew either of my grandfathers, U.O; both died before I was born. I'm glad your grandkids have a good one. :-)

tnx 4 the sentiment ... 'preciate it ... I miss them already ... (got their new skul pix tho, cuter every year ...)

Oh, THOSE credit cards, Bumble! Well, don't put too much stock in them, dear. They aren't worth anything! Ha!

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