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the proxy father
 
 
The Smiths had no children and decided to use a proxy father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, 'I'm off. The man should be here soon."

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. 'Good morning, madam. You don't know me but I've come to....'

'Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you,' Mrs. Smith cut in.

'Really ?' the photographer asked. 'Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies.'

'That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?' asked Mrs. Smith, blushing.

'Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out.'

'Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for Harry and me.'

'Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results.'

'I hope we can get this over with quickly,' gasped Mrs. Smith.

'Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure.'

'Don't I know!' Mrs. Smith exclaimed. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. 'This was done on the top of a bus in downtown London.'

'Oh my god!!', Mrs. Smith exclaimed, tugging at her handkerchief.

'And these twins turned out exceptionally well when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with.' The photographer handed Mrs. Smith the picture.
'She was difficult ?' asked Mrs. Smith.
'Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Hyde Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing to get a good look.'

'Four and five deep?' asked Mrs. Smith, eyes widened in amazement.

'Yes,' the photographer said.

'And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. I could hardly concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in.' Mrs. Smith leaned forward.

'You mean they actually chewed on your, eh......equipment ?'

'That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work.'

'Tripod??', Mrs. Smith looked extremely worried now.

'Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action. Madam ? Madam?..... Good Lord, she's fainted!'

tech glossary
 
 
486: The average IQ needed to understand a PC.

State-of-the-art: Any computer you can't afford.

Obsolete: Any computer you own.

Microsecond: The time it takes for your state-of-the-art computer to become obsolete.

G3: Apple's new Macs that make you say 'Gee, three times faster than the computer I bought for the same price a Microsecond ago.'

Syntax Error: Walking into a computer store and saying, "Hi, I want to buy a computer and money is no object."

Hard Drive: The sales technique employed by computer salesmen, esp. after a Syntax Error.

GUI: What your computer becomes after spilling your coffee on it. (pronounced 'gooey')

Keyboard: The standard way to generate computer errors.

Mouse: An advanced input device to make computer errors easier to generate.

Floppy: The state of your wallet after purchasing a computer.

Portable Computer: A device invented to force businessmen to work at home, on vacation, and on business trips.

Disk Crash: A typical computer response to any critical deadline.

Power User: Anyone who can format a disk from DOS.

System Update: A quick method of trashing ALL of your software.

mountain bike
 
 
A man came back from a long business trip to find that his son had a new $300 mountain bike.

"How'd you get that, son?"

"By hiking."

"Hiking?"

"Yeah, every night, Mom's boss came over and gave me $20 to take a hike."

what happens to irs cheats after death
 
 

One day, a man named Tony died. When he was sent to be judged, he was told that he had committed a sin, and that he could not go to heaven right away.

He asked what he did and God told him that he cheated on his income taxes, and the only way he could get into heaven would be to sleep with a 500 pound, stupid, butt-ugly woman for the next five years and enjoy it. Tony decided that this was a small price to pay for an eternity in heaven. So off he went with this enormous woman, pretending to be happy.

As he was walking along, he saw his friend Carlos up ahead. Carlos was with an even bigger, uglier woman than he was with. When he approached Carlos, Tony asked him what was going on. Carlos replied, "I cheated on my income taxes and scammed the government out of a lot of money... even more than you did." They both shook their heads and figured that, as long as they have to be with these women, they might as well hang out together to help pass the time.

Now Tony, Carlos and their two beastly women were walking along one day, minding their own business when Tony and Carlos could have sworn they saw their friend John up ahead, only this man was with an absolutely drop dead gorgeous supermodel-centerfold woman. Stunned, Tony and Carlos approached the man and in fact, it was their friend John. They asked him how is it that he is with this unbelievable goddess, while they were stuck with these digustingly awful women.

John replied, "I have no idea and I'm definitely not complaining. This has been positively the best time of my life (and I'm dead!) and I have five years of the best sex any man could hope for to look forward to. There is only one thing I can't seem to understand. Every time after we have sex, she rolls over and murmurs to herself "Damn income taxes!"


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