Anecdotal jokes, punchlines, setups, and comedy bits from Chaotic Meh — sorted for people who know exactly what kind of bad idea they want.
A friend from West Virginia was shopping at the Wal-Mart in Blacksburg, VA. At the cash register, my friend wrote a check.
The clerk asked for her driver’s license.
She presented her West Virginia driver’s license and the clerk grabbed it away from her and scoffed, “If you’re going to use a fake ID, you could at least use a real state!”
A manager was required to verify West Virginia’s statehood.
Several years ago there was an intern who was none too swift. One day he was typing and turned to a secretary and said, “I’m almost out of typing paper. What do I do?”
“Just use the copier machine paper,” she told him.
With that, the intern took his last remaining blank piece of typing paper, put it on the photocopier and proceeded to make five blank copies.
A fellow had just been hired as the new CEO of a large high-tech corporation. The CEO who was stepping down met with him privately and presented him with three numbered envelopes. “Open these if you run up against a problem you don’t think you can solve,” he said.
Well, things went along pretty smoothly, but six months later, sales took a downturn and he was really catching a lot of heat. About at his wit’s end, he remembered the envelopes. He went to his drawer and took out the first envelope. The message read, “Blame your predecessor.”
The new CEO called a press conference and tactfully laid the blame at the feet of the previous CEO. Satisfied with his comments, the press and Wall Street responded positively, sales began to pick up and the problem was soon behind him. About a year later, the company was again experiencing a slight dip in sales, combined with serious product problems. Having learned from his previous experience, the CEO quickly opened the second envelope.
The message read, “Reorganize.” This he did, and the company quickly rebounded. After several consecutive profitable quarters, the company once again fell on difficult times.
The CEO went to his office, closed the door and opened the third envelope. The message said, “Prepare three envelopes.”
This guy walks into a bank and says to the teller at the window, “I want to open a fuckin’ checking account!”
To which the lady replied, “I beg your pardon, what did you say?”
“Listen up, dammit, I said I want to open a fuckin’ checking account right now.”
“Sir, I’m sorry but we do not tolerate that kind of language in this bank!” The teller left the window and went over to the bank manager and told him about her situation. They both returned and the manager asked, “What seems to be the problem here?”
“There’s no damn problem,” the man said. “I just won fifty million in the lottery and I want to open a fuckin’ checking account in this damn bank!”
“I see, sir,” the manager said. “And this bitch is giving you a hard time?”
The San Francisco Zoo has an elephant named Calle who has a chronic illness, requiring medication. The zoo people couldn’t get Calle to take her dose orally, so a California pharmacologist developed a suppository. The ten-inch-long, four-pound, cocoa-butter bullets are crafted by the good folks at Guittard Chocolates in Burlingame.
Administering the daily medication takes five zoo workers, including one person to distract Calle with treats and one person who wears a full-arm glove.
Why am I telling you this? Just think — five people have jobs worse than yours!
During the “rush hour” at Houston’s Hobby Airport, my flight was delayed due to a mechanical problem. Since they needed the gate for another flight, the aircraft was backed away from the gate while the maintenance crew worked on it. We were then told the new gate number, which was some distance away.
Everyone moved to the new gate, only to find that a third gate had been designated for us. After some further shuffling, everyone got on board, and as we were settling in, the flight attendant made the standard announcement: “We apologize for the inconvenience of this last-minute gate change. This flight is going to Washington, D.C. If your destination is not Washington, D.C., then you should ‘deplane’ at this time.”
A very confused-looking and red-faced pilot emerged from the cockpit, carrying his bags. “Sorry,” he said. “Wrong plane.”
A true story.
This is a bricklayer’s accident report that was printed in the newsletter of the English equivalent of the Workers’ Compensation Board. So here, thanks to John Sedgwick, is this bricklayer’s report.
Dear Sir,
I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block #3 of the accident reporting form. I put “Poor Planning” as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.
I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building. When I completed my work, I found I had some bricks left over which when weighed later were found to weigh 240 lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which was attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor.
Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the 240 lbs of bricks. You will note on the accident reporting form that my weight is 135 lbs.
Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explains the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collarbone, as listed in Section 3, accident reporting form.
Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley which I mentioned in Paragraph 2 of this correspondence. Fortunately by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of the excruciating pain I was now beginning to experience.
At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground — and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight.
As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and severe lacerations of my legs and lower body.
Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.
I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope.
A helicopter was flying around above Seattle yesterday when an electrical malfunction disabled all of the aircraft’s electronic navigation and communications equipment. Due to the clouds and haze, the pilot could not determine the helicopter’s position and course to steer to the airport.
The pilot saw a tall building, flew toward it, circled, drew a hand-written sign, and held it in the helicopter’s window. The pilot’s sign read “WHERE AM I?” in large letters.
People in the tall building quickly responded to the aircraft, drew a large sign, and held it in a building window. Their sign read “YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER.”
The pilot smiled, waved, looked at his map, determined the course to steer to SEATAC airport, and landed safely.
After they were on the ground, the copilot asked the pilot how the “YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER” sign helped determine their position.
The pilot responded, “I knew that had to be the Microsoft building because, similar to their help lines, they gave me a technically correct but completely useless answer.”
Listed below are (sad, but true) excerpts from a Wall Street Journal article by Jim Carlton:
An exasperated caller to Dell Computer Tech Support couldn’t get her new Dell Computer to turn on. After ensuring the computer was plugged in, the technician asked her what happened when she pushed the power button. Her response: “I pushed and pushed on this foot pedal and nothing happens.” The “foot pedal” turned out to be the computer’s mouse.
Another customer called Compaq tech support to say her brand-new computer wouldn’t work. She said she unpacked the unit, plugged it in, and sat there for twenty minutes waiting for something to happen. When asked what happened when she pressed the power switch, she asked, “What power switch?”
Compaq is considering changing the command “Press Any Key” to “Press Return Key” because of the flood of calls asking where the “Any” key is.
AST technical support had a caller complaining that her mouse was hard to control with the dust cover on. The cover turned out to be the plastic bag the mouse was packaged in.
Another Compaq technician received a call from a man complaining that the system wouldn’t read word processing files from his old diskettes. After troubleshooting for magnets and heat failed to diagnose the problem, it was found that the customer labeled the diskettes then rolled them into the typewriter to type the labels.
Another AST customer was asked to send a copy of her defective diskettes. A few days later a letter arrived from the customer along with Xeroxed copies of the floppies.
A Dell technician advised his customer to put his troubled floppy back in the drive and close the door. The customer asked the tech to hold on, and was heard putting the phone down, getting up and crossing the room to close the door to his room.
Another Dell customer needed help setting up a new program, so a Dell tech referred him to the local Egghead. “Yeah, I got me a couple of friends,” the customer replied. When told Egghead was a software store, the man said, “Oh, I thought you meant for me to find a couple of geeks.”
Yet another Dell customer called to complain that his keyboard no longer worked. He had cleaned it by filling up his tub with soap and water and soaking the keyboard for a day, then removing all the keys and washing them individually.
A Dell technician received a call from a customer who was enraged because his computer had told him he was “bad and an invalid.” The tech explained that the computer’s “bad command” and “invalid” responses shouldn’t be taken personally.
Another Dell customer called to say he couldn’t get his computer to fax anything. After forty minutes of troubleshooting, the technician discovered the man was trying to fax a piece of paper by holding it in front of the monitor screen and hitting the “send” key.
