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Wednesday 19th March, 2003100,000 subscribers

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+ The Starter
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After much thought, and to take your mind off the impending nuclear armageddon in the Middle East, I thought I'd delight you with the tale of my night out a few weeks ago. You know the one.. the one I was going to write about... but then didn't... hey, it ain't my fault, laziness is an innate characteristic - blame the genes.

Basically, it was my mate Wilson's birthday, and being part of the happy-hardcore rave generation, he wanted to have a HUGE night clubbing. But not just the usual nightclub thing, he wanted to get tickets to the hottest venue in town to see Dutch superstar DJ Paul Van Dyk (and "friends") who was appearing for one night only at the Ice Arena. Sounded like a plan, I love the populist trance tunes of this particular DJ, but there was one rather large snag - the price. Simply put, £26 ($40) to gain entry to four hours of dancing among pill-heads is kinda steep in my book.

Whereas I was willing to fork out the cash, my mate Norm wasn't so keen. Asking for his unique perspective on this situation I received the following humorous response:

"Ice Arena to see Paul Van Dyk? I'll be honest, a night in with Jenna Jameson and a packet of Kleenex could be equally enjoyable and the economics are favourable too. It's not that I'm COMPLETELY against paying wadloads to see big acts, but you and I both know that the best nights can be achieved with 20 quid ($30) max, the cheap bars, a student meat-market night and a kebab as the cherry on the cake."

Genius. Pure and simple. The boy knows what he likes, and that HAS to be respected.

Sadly, I knew the night would be anything BUT the student meat-market I became accustomed to in my wild University days. Thus, I spent the night propping up the bar, occasionally journeying to the dancefloor whilst trying to avoid making eye contact with any potential dealers fumbling around the room for trade. Good times ;-)

Now, I am forced to scrimp and save to restore my capital to a somewhat respectable status. Thus, tonight I am hitting the local Social Club (rather than the local bar) due to the insanely low priced booze. Afterall... the economics are favourable...

Take it easy.
Tom Evans
Editor - Joke Email
webmaster@jokeemail.com


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+ General Joke
One day, two deputies in the Sheriff's Office answered an emergency call at a farmhouse. When they walked in, they found the nude bodies of a man and a woman in the bedroom. They had been shot to death. When they went to the living room, they found the body of a man with a gun at his side. "No doubt about it," one deputy said to the other. "This was a double murder and suicide. This guy came home and found his wife in bed with somebody else and shot them both. Then he shot himself."

"You're right," the other deputy replied. "Double murder and suicide. But I'll bet you when the sheriff gets here he's going to say 'it could have been worse'."

"No way. How could it be worse? There are three people in the house, and all of them have been shot to death. It couldn't be worse. You're on."

About that time, the old sheriff arrived at the scene. He walked into the bedroom and saw the two nude bodies. He then walked into the living room and saw t! he man on the floor with the gun by his side. "No doubt about it," the sheriff said, shaking his head. "It was a double murder and suicide. This guy came home and found his wife in bed with somebody else and shot them both. Then he shot himself." After hesitating for a moment, the old sheriff looked his deputies squarely in the eyes. "But, you know," he said, "it could have been worse."

The deputy who had lost the bet jumped up and shouted,
"Sheriff, how could it have been worse? There are three people in this farmhouse, and all three of them are dead. It couldn't have been worse??"

"Yes it could," the sheriff retorted. "You see that guy there on the floor? If he had come home yesterday, that would be me in there in that bed!"


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+ Tasteless Joke
This man walks into the patent office, places an apple on the desk and says, "I want to patent this apple."

The patent officer informs him that he can't get a patent on an apple. The gent says, "Taste it."

The officer tastes it and with mild surprise states, "It tastes like an orange. Unfortunately, it still can't be patented."

Not willing to give up yet, the man asks him to turn it around and taste the other side. The patent officer turns it around and takes a bite out of the other side.

Slightly more surprised he exclaims, "It tastes like a lemon. But I'm sorry, it's just not original enough. Maybe if it tasted like pussy...."

So the man walks out somewhat dejected.

About the same time the next year he walks in to the patent office again and sets another apple on the desk. He exclaims, "I did it! Taste this apple."

The patent officer takes a bite out of the apple and immediately spits it out screaming, "This apple tastes like crap!"

The inventor says, "No, turn it around."


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