Funny Pictures and stories....
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Help Support House Repair Talk:
slownsteady
Well-Known Member
go to the human whenever you have the opportunity. If you think your job is safe, think again. It just may take a little longer to replace you.
Save the humans!
elbo
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whenever I go to a store using the speedy check-out lanes, I always go to the human cashier to check out Sometimes the person who watches the self checkout asks why I dont use that lane instead of the cashier lane, I always tell them that I'm protecting their jobs, and you know, they don't understand why or how
zannej
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Those self-checkout ones can be "fun". Scan item, put it in bagging area. Voice says "Unexpected item in bagging area" and it asks me to remove it-- even though it scanned already... Other times it says to put my item in the bagging area after I already put it in and it won't accept that its there and it gripes when I take the items out of the bagging area. There is a clerk who has to stand nearby to come press some buttons to make the machine work.
slownsteady
Well-Known Member
They will eventually iron out the bugs and then that poor sap who has to stand there and correct the machine will be out of her job too.
What's the economy going to run on when none of us are working?
What's the economy going to run on when none of us are working?
zannej
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A poem from a Mercedes Lackey novel:
It was a dark and stormy night - or so the Heralds say -
And lightning striking constantly transformed the night to day.
The thunder roared the castle round - or thusly runs the tale -
And rising from the Northeast Tower there came a fearful wail.
It was no beast or banshee that, the castle folk knew well,
Nor prisoner in agony, nor demon trapped by spell,
No ghost that moaned in penance, nor soul in mortal fright -
'Twas just the Countess "singing" - for she practiced every night.
The Countess was convinced she should have been born a Bard
And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard.
For they must listen to her sing, and smile at what they heard
And swear she had a golden voice to rival any bird.
The Countess was convinced the she had wedded 'neath her state
And so the worst lot fell upon her meek and mild mate.
Not only must the Count each night endure her every song
But suffer silent her abuse; be blamed for every wrong.
It was a dark and stormy night - or so the Bards aver -
And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir
When suddenly the "music" ceased; and when Dawn raised his head
Within the Tower servants found the Countess stiff and dead.
The Heralds came at once to judge if there had been foul play.
They questioned all most carefully to hear what they would say.
And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light -
That _every_ moment of the Count was vouched for on that night.
The castle folk by ones and twos came forward on their own
To swear the Count was never once that night left all on his own.
So though the Tower had been locked, with two keys to the door,
One his, one hers; the Count of guilt was plain absolved for sure.
At length the Heralds then pronounced her death as "suicide".
And all within the district voiced themselves quite satisfied.
It was a verdict, after all, that none wished to refute -
Though no one could imagine why she'd try to eat her lute.
It was a dark and stormy night - or so the Heralds say -
And lightning striking constantly transformed the night to day.
The thunder roared the castle round - or thusly runs the tale -
And rising from the Northeast Tower there came a fearful wail.
It was no beast or banshee that, the castle folk knew well,
Nor prisoner in agony, nor demon trapped by spell,
No ghost that moaned in penance, nor soul in mortal fright -
'Twas just the Countess "singing" - for she practiced every night.
The Countess was convinced she should have been born a Bard
And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard.
For they must listen to her sing, and smile at what they heard
And swear she had a golden voice to rival any bird.
The Countess was convinced the she had wedded 'neath her state
And so the worst lot fell upon her meek and mild mate.
Not only must the Count each night endure her every song
But suffer silent her abuse; be blamed for every wrong.
It was a dark and stormy night - or so the Bards aver -
And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir
When suddenly the "music" ceased; and when Dawn raised his head
Within the Tower servants found the Countess stiff and dead.
The Heralds came at once to judge if there had been foul play.
They questioned all most carefully to hear what they would say.
And one fact most astounding to them quickly came to light -
That _every_ moment of the Count was vouched for on that night.
The castle folk by ones and twos came forward on their own
To swear the Count was never once that night left all on his own.
So though the Tower had been locked, with two keys to the door,
One his, one hers; the Count of guilt was plain absolved for sure.
At length the Heralds then pronounced her death as "suicide".
And all within the district voiced themselves quite satisfied.
It was a verdict, after all, that none wished to refute -
Though no one could imagine why she'd try to eat her lute.
Last edited:
zannej
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Glad you like it. 
I read the novels as a kid. It was sort of sci-fi/fantasy style about Heralds with sort of magic horses that chose them. It's been a long time so I can't remember the full plots, but I enjoyed the novels when I was younger.
Here's something a friend posted that I think is super-cool but would be amusing to see someone using. A rollator made to look like the front of a boat
If they put a short railing on the top it could hold groceries.
I read the novels as a kid. It was sort of sci-fi/fantasy style about Heralds with sort of magic horses that chose them. It's been a long time so I can't remember the full plots, but I enjoyed the novels when I was younger.
Here's something a friend posted that I think is super-cool but would be amusing to see someone using. A rollator made to look like the front of a boat
If they put a short railing on the top it could hold groceries.
slownsteady
Well-Known Member
I can't decide if that rates an "ahoy" or just an "OY!"
I almost stopped on my way to work to take a photo for this thread, but thought about it a bit and was too lazy to turn around and go back.
There has been a large whitetail deer dead on the side of the road for a couple days. The state normally comes along and hauls them off. Well this one hasn’t gone anyplace and this morning someone has attached a Mylar balloon to it that says “Get Well Soon!”
On edit:
I just did a google search and found this must be a pretty common thing to do as I see there are 100’s of photos and selfies. What the hell.
There has been a large whitetail deer dead on the side of the road for a couple days. The state normally comes along and hauls them off. Well this one hasn’t gone anyplace and this morning someone has attached a Mylar balloon to it that says “Get Well Soon!”
On edit:
I just did a google search and found this must be a pretty common thing to do as I see there are 100’s of photos and selfies. What the hell.
frodo
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BIRD FEEDER
I bought a bird feeder.
I hung it on my back porch and filled it with seed.
What a beauty of a bird feeder it was, I reflected as I filled it lovingly with seed. First came the chickadees and then within a week we had hundreds of birds taking advantage of the continuous flow of free and easily accessible food.
But then the birds started building nests in the boards of the patio, above the table, and next to the barbecue.
Then came the poop. It was everywhere: on the patio tile, the chairs, the table. Everywhere!
Then some of the birds turned mean. They would dive bomb me and try to peck me even though I had fed them out of my own pocket.
Other birds were boisterous and loud. They sat on the feeder and squawked and screamed at all hours of the day and demanded that I fill it when it got low on food.
After a while, I couldn't even sit on my own back porch anymore. So I took down the bird feeder and in three days the birds were gone. I cleaned up their mess and took down the many nests they had built all over the patio.
Soon, the back yard was like it used to be: quiet and serene.
Just my opinion, but maybe it's time for the government to take down the bird feeder.
I bought a bird feeder.
I hung it on my back porch and filled it with seed.
What a beauty of a bird feeder it was, I reflected as I filled it lovingly with seed. First came the chickadees and then within a week we had hundreds of birds taking advantage of the continuous flow of free and easily accessible food.
But then the birds started building nests in the boards of the patio, above the table, and next to the barbecue.
Then came the poop. It was everywhere: on the patio tile, the chairs, the table. Everywhere!
Then some of the birds turned mean. They would dive bomb me and try to peck me even though I had fed them out of my own pocket.
Other birds were boisterous and loud. They sat on the feeder and squawked and screamed at all hours of the day and demanded that I fill it when it got low on food.
After a while, I couldn't even sit on my own back porch anymore. So I took down the bird feeder and in three days the birds were gone. I cleaned up their mess and took down the many nests they had built all over the patio.
Soon, the back yard was like it used to be: quiet and serene.
Just my opinion, but maybe it's time for the government to take down the bird feeder.
nealtw
Contractor retired
It just followed you home?
frodo
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When Jane initially met Tarzan in the jungle, she was attracted to him, and during her questions about his life, she asked him how he had sex?
' Tarzan not know sex' he replied.
Jane explained to him what sex was.
Tarzan said ' Tarzan use knot hole in trunk of tree.'
Horrified Jane said, 'Tarzan, you have it all wrong, but I will show you how to do it properly.'
She took off her clothing and laid down on the ground.
'Here' she said, pointing to her privates, 'you must put it in here.'
Tarzan removed his loin cloth, showing Jane his considerable manhood, stepped closer to her and kicked her in the crotch!
Jane rolled around in agony for what seemed like an eternity.
Eventually she managed to grasp for air and screamed 'O my God! Why did you do that?'
To which Tarzan replied, 'Check for squirrel.'
' Tarzan not know sex' he replied.
Jane explained to him what sex was.
Tarzan said ' Tarzan use knot hole in trunk of tree.'
Horrified Jane said, 'Tarzan, you have it all wrong, but I will show you how to do it properly.'
She took off her clothing and laid down on the ground.
'Here' she said, pointing to her privates, 'you must put it in here.'
Tarzan removed his loin cloth, showing Jane his considerable manhood, stepped closer to her and kicked her in the crotch!
Jane rolled around in agony for what seemed like an eternity.
Eventually she managed to grasp for air and screamed 'O my God! Why did you do that?'
To which Tarzan replied, 'Check for squirrel.'
frodo
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Life as a child growing up in rural Mississippi
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little bad *** compound bow beginner kits.
Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in
anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down?
Tough sumbitch.
That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place.
One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). The light bulb went off in my head.
I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner. Lets€™s face it, to a 10 yr old mouth-breather like myself,Ether really doesn't "sound" flammable.
So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles). At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the (Ether) can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz
(Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?
You know what? Screw that, I'm going back in the house for the other can.
Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.
I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released, and the arrow launched from my bow, I heard a clunk of a car door. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck.
OH SHOOT! He just got home from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom.
Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh shoot!!!!!
When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk back from 235 freaking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could see. It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a worm or two.
The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this.....THE FRECKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.
There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was".That sumbitch got up and ran off.
So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my Thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback: ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMN IT CEASE FIRE!!!!!
His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard. There is a Honda 185 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires.
I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out,
woke later.... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again". Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again, Mom had been bitching about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business.
Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. It's good
discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.
Around age 10 my dad got me one of those little bad *** compound bow beginner kits.
Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in
anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40 horse Farmall tractor tire will take 6 rounds before it goes down?
Tough sumbitch.
That got boring, so being the 10 yr. old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end and was sending flaming arrows all over the place.
One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (Ether). The light bulb went off in my head.
I grabbed the can and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner. Lets€™s face it, to a 10 yr old mouth-breather like myself,Ether really doesn't "sound" flammable.
So, I went back into the house and got a 1 pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles). At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump and opened up the can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the (Ether) can but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie, a 1 lb. pyrodex and 16 oz
(Ether) should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker you know?
You know what? Screw that, I'm going back in the house for the other can.
Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex and dumped it too. Now we're cookin'.
I stepped back about 15 ft and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek and took aim. As I released, and the arrow launched from my bow, I heard a clunk of a car door. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck.
OH SHOOT! He just got home from work. So help me God it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can. My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom.
Right through the main pile of pyrodex and into the can. Oh shoot!!!!!
When the shock wave hit it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk back from 235 freaking decibels of sound. I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 ft above the ground as far as I could see. It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a worm or two.
The daylight turned purple. Let me repeat this.....THE FRECKING DAYLIGHT TURNED PURPLE.
There was a big sweetgum tree out by the gate going into the pasture. Notice I said "was".That sumbitch got up and ran off.
So here I am, on the ground blown completely out of my shoes with my Thundercats T-Shirt shredded, my dad is on the other side of the carport having what I can only assume is a Vietnam flashback: ECHO BRAVO CHARLIE YOU'RE BRINGIN' EM IN TOO CLOSE!! CEASE FIRE. DAMN IT CEASE FIRE!!!!!
His hat has blown off and is 30 ft behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 ft. over our backyard. There is a Honda 185 3 wheeler parked on the other side of the yard and the fenders are drooped down and are now touching the tires.
I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know - I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter. I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out,
woke later.... repeat this process for an hour or so and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR and Dad screaming "Bring him back to life so I can kill him again". Thanks Mom.
One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again, Mom had been bitching about that thing for years and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate and handled business.
Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality, either from the blast or the beating, or both.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. It's good
discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.
