WE HEAR THAT the Cabinet is being expanded. Now we’re going to have, of all things, a Minister of Women’s Affairs. The absurdity of such a suggestion apart, that could set off a massive chain reaction. Because, on the basis of our Constitution’s insistence on equality, people could now insist on a Minister of Children’s Affairs, a Minister of Animal Affairs, and so on. And then each of the new ministries could insist on being represented by members of their own ranks. On second thoughts, they might just fit in nicely...setting the scene for Animal Farm? THE SENIOR MANAGER spotted a new staff member he didn’t know. He called the newcomer to his office. “What’s your name?” he asked. “John.” “Listen – when I ask your name I want your surname and that’s all I’ll call you by. So I ask for the last time, what’s your name?” “Darling.” “All right, John – the next thing I want you to understand is…” A ZIMBABWEAN journalist goes to the local hospital and asks the duty nurse if he can see “an eye-ear doctor”. “We don’t have anyone with that title on the staff,” the nurse answers. “Is there someone else who might be able to help you?”
“No – it must be an eye-ear doctor. Everywhere I go I keep hearing one thing and seeing another.” A WOMAN GOES to see a psychiatrist. “I’ve a terrible problem, she says. “I have an important job in business. That requires me to meet lots of men. Whenever I meet one I find very attractive physically I find it impossible not to tear off all my clothes as soon as we’re alone and then make passionate love to him. It’s great at the time but then afterwards I’m consumed with a massive sense of depressive guilt.”
The psychiatrist says: “I understand your problem very well. Obviously, you want me to help change your whole pattern of behaviour?” “Of course not,” replies the woman. “I just want you to stop the guilt.” CORPORATE PERFORMANCE EVALUATIONS: Approaches all problems logically – always tries to get someone else to do the job.
Deserves promotion – give him a new title (but no more money) to make him feel more appreciated.
Gets along well with both superiors and juniors – spineless, cowardly creep.
Listens carefully – never has an idea of his own. A BLONDE sits down in her seat in Business Class on her return flight to Sydney. She’s had an exhausting day at conferences in Melbourne and all she wants to do is have a G&T, relax and recover before her arrival in the “capital” city of Australia. A guy not sharing the same immediate priorities in life occupies the seat next to her. What could be more delightful than sharing a confined space with a single, attractive blonde? He decides to chat her up.
Not receiving any response other than monosyllabic mmms to his discussions about the weather, football, netball, golf, politics, religion, etc, he decides she might like to engage in some form of repartee and suggests that they have a little quiz between themselves.
She tells him in no uncertain terms to urinate off, but he persists. Finally, she gives in when he offers US dollars as an inducement. If he asks her a question she’s unable to answer correctly, she’s to give him $50. But if she asks him a question and he’s unable to answer correctly he must pay her $500. He invites the lady to ask the first question. “OK,” she says, “what goes uphill on four legs and downhill on three?”
He pulls out his laptop (by this time they’re airborne) and looks up the three different encyclopaedias on his hard drive. After 15 minutes – no answer. He then accesses the Internet and after a further 20 frustrating minutes, as they prepare to land, he gives up. He pulls out 10 crisp new $50 notes and hands them to the blonde. “OK,” he says, “what does goes uphill on four legs and downhill on three?”
The blonde looks at him and, without a word, opens her wallet into which she’s just put his $500 and reluctantly extracts a $50 note and gives it to him. The moral of the story? Don’t mess with blondes.