Two old guys, one 80 and one 87, were sitting on a park bench one morning. The 87-year-old had just finished his morning jog and wasn’t even short of breath. The 80-year-old was amazed at the guy’s stamina and asked him what he did to have so much energy. The 87-year-old said, “Well, I eat Jewish rye bread every day. It keeps your energy level high and you’ll have great stamina with the ladies. You’ll feel like 40 again!”
So, on the way home the 80-year-old stopped at the bakery. As he was looking around, the saleslady asked if he needed any help. He said, “Do you have any Jewish rye bread?” She said, “Yes, there’s a whole shelf of it. Would you like some?”
He said, “I want five loaves.” She said, “My goodness, five loaves! By the time you get to the 3rd loaf, it’ll be hard.”
He replied, “I can’t believe it. Everybody knows about this shit but me.”
On a farm lived a chicken and a horse, both of whom loved to play together.
One day the two were playing, when the horse fell into a bog and began to sink.
Scared for his life, the horse whinnied for the chicken to go get the farmer for help!
Off the chicken ran, back to the farm. Arriving at the farm, he searched and searched for the farmer, but to no avail, for he had gone to town with the only tractor.
Running around, the chicken spied the farmer’s new Harley.
Finding the keys in the ignition, the chicken sped off with a length of rope hoping he still had time to save his friend’s life.
Back at the bog, the horse was surprised, but happy, to see the chicken arrive on the shiny Harley, and he managed to get a hold of the loop of rope the chicken tossed to him.
After tying the other end to the rear bumper of the farmer’s bike, the chicken then drove slowly forward and, with the aid of the powerful bike, rescued the horse!
Happy and proud, the chicken rode the Harley back to the farmhouse, and the farmer was none the wiser when he returned.
The friendship between the two animals was cemented: Best Buddies, Best Pals.
A few weeks later, the chicken fell into a mud pit, and soon, he too, began to sink and cried out to the horse to save his life!
The horse thought a moment, walked over, and straddled the large puddle.
Looking underneath, he told the chicken to grab his hangy-down thingy and he would then lift him out of the pit.
The chicken got a good grip, and the horse pulled him up and out, saving his life.
The moral of the story?
(Yep, you betcha, there is a moral!)
When You’re Hung Like A Horse, You Don’t Need A Harley To Pick Up Chicks
Chester lives next to a lake. Earl, Chester’s brother-in-law, is visiting from up-state, for some duck shooting. Early the next morning Chester says “I’ll send my dog out to see if there are any ducks out on the lake. If there aren’t many ducks, we won’t hunt today. It’s not worth it. We’ll wait a day.
So Chester calls his dog, mutters some commands and sends the dog out to the lake. The dog comes back and barks twice. Chester says “Well, I’m not going out. He only saw two ducks”.
Earl says “You’re going to take the dog’s barks for the truth?” Earl doesn’t believe it so he goes to look for himself. When he gets back he says “Impossible. There really are only two ducks out there! Where did you get that dog?”
Chester says “Well, I got him from the breeder up the road. If you want one, ask him”. So Earl goes to the breeder and says he wants a dog like the one Chester has.
The breeder says that, yes, he has a fully trained duck dog for $2,500. Earl pays the price without question, brings the dog home, immediately drives out into the country, as close to his favourite blind. He orders the new dog to go search for ducks and report back.
Minutes later the dog returns shaking its head with a stick in its mouth, and starts humping Earl’s leg. Outraged, Earl returns home, phones the breeder and says “This dog is a fraud. I want my money back!”
The breeder asks Earl what the dog did. So Earl tells him that when he sent the dog out to look for ducks, it came back shaking its head with a stick in its mouth, and started humping his leg.
The breeder says ” Earl, don’t you understand? Dogs can’t talk. He was trying to tell you there are more fucking ducks out there than you can shake a stick at”
Money is basically a promise underwritten by banks, where everyone agrees that it has a value and we all go along with it. Ones and zeros in cyberspace, conjured up and manipulated by banking wizards. Money, it seems, is a fictional popularity contest.
Banks vouch for your financial standing, offer convenience in trading with customers and suppliers and stop you from getting robbed of paper money hidden in your floorboards.
Through over-lending and over-extension of ‘money’ in their coffers, banks tend to get a little too clever at everyone else’s expense. When issuing you a loan, they’re not at risk. They stand as gatekeepers to money, but will take your assets if you don’t pay. Imagine a casino with massive amounts of punters pouring in money, then the casino betting the money themselves. Either way, the house always wins. Access to your money gets monopolised, with the average Joe and Josephine paying to keep these institutions profitable. (Please don’t freeze my accounts, I’m just thinking out loud.)
The majority of money in the modern economy is created by commercial banks making loans. They’re said to loan out more money than they have in reserve at a 10:1 ratio – great odds. In many ways, banks can be seen as pyramid schemes that create debt, set to explode over time as bubbles develop and burst. This is followed by bailouts and no repercussion for crashing the world economy.
Which is why the enigmatic Satoshi Nakamoto (possibly an Australian programmer) unleashed his invented cryptocurrency called Bitcoin a month after the Lehman Brothers collapse in 2008.
Who of you out there are there are sales-men? Or sales-women. Ok ok, sales-people. And does it really even matter. Now, if I had asked this via e-mail then thousands of people would be e-mailing their opinions back and forth about whether it should be sales-man or sales-person and whether I was a sexist or the sexiest or whatever. I know you get the point.
E-mail is an amazing thing. It allows us to communicate something with someone at light speed. It allows people who have never met to moan at each other and complain like never before. It allows people who live on opposite sides of the world to get into fights and arguments and generally drive each other mad. Yes, it really is a lot more incredible than you think. And yes, I am sounding very cynical today but I am really fed up with reading so many boring, self-indulgent e-mails that are over-flowing with emotions and subtext. Enough is enough.
Oops, I got side-tracked. So, who of you are sales-people? Well, I got news for – every one of us are sales-people. Anyone who ever tried to convince someone of something is in sales. We are all selling – all the time. Making a sale or closing a deal does not have to involve a payment. When someone buys into what you are saying then a sale has been made. Every time you convince someone to do something then you have closed a deal. When you get someone to lend you something you are selling. When you get someone to go out on a date with you then you are selling. When you get someone to give you their time then you are selling. And it should be clear that selling is something that people do to other people.