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Have you heard about the next planned "Survivor" show?

   6 men will be dropped on an island with 1 van and 4 kids each, for 6 weeks. Each kid plays two sports and either takes music or dance classes.
   There is no access to fast food.
   Each man must take care of his 4 kids, keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, etc.
   The men only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done: There is only one TV between them and there is no remote.
   The men must shave their legs and wear makeup daily, which they must apply themselves either while driving or while making four lunches.
   They must attend weekly PTA meetings; clean up after their sick children at 3:00 a.m; make an Indian hut model with six toothpicks, a tortilla and one marker; and get a 4 year old to eat a serving of peas.
   The kids vote them off based on performance.
   The winner gets to go back to his job.


Some friends were sitting at the bar talking about their professions.

The first guy says "I'm a Y.U.P.P.I.E, you know...
Young, Urban, Professional, Peaceful, Intelligent, Ecologist"

The second guy says "I'm a D.I.N.K, you know.... Double Income, No Kids."

The third guy says, "I'm a R.U.B., you know...Rich, Urban, Biker."

They turn to the woman and ask her, "What are you?"

She replies: "I'm a WIFE, you know....Wash, Iron, F**k, Etc."

A second gal answers their question before they even ask it:
"BITCH."

"What exactly is a BITCH?!?", they ask in unison.

"Babe In Total Control of Herself."


I rented a movie from Blockbuster. Before the movie begins a message comes on the screen saying, "This movie has been altered to fit your television screen." Comment from person: "How do they know what size screen I have?"


CONCERT pianist Gary Graffman discovered during his career that changes of temperature and humidity, plus his own sweat often caused the keyboard to attain the consistency of cod-liver oil. The problem first came to his attention at an outdoor concert when he descended on the low E-flat in the opening cadenza of Beethoven's "Emperor" Concerto. Although his aim was impeccable, the E-flat was rapidly followed by an unintended E-natural and then a momentary absence of any sound at all as his finger slipped off the keyboard. He now arrives well before curtain time and washes each key with alcohol or water. "Even the best plans can be foiled, though," says Graffman. "Once, a stage hand had been instructed to polish the piano, which he did, including the keyboard. For 15 minutes before concert time I scrubbed the keys with everything in sight. Finally, someone told me to dust them with powdered resin. By the time I walked out to play it had combined with the residue of furniture polish and the keys felt like melting asphalt mixed with used bubble gum. The only thing I can say about my performance that evening was that I was stuck with it."


MY HUSBAND, Greg, a professional musician, was performing for a social function when one of the patrons approached the bandstand to ask the title of the tune being played. When Greg told him, the man got angry. Greg repeated it to make certain that the patron had heard correctly. The man was now so annoyed he asked Greg to step outside. My husband was saved by the man's wife. "Relax, silly," she said. "It's the song by Michael Jackson — Beat It.


MY PIANO teacher rarely accepts preschoolers, because counting is so important in music. One day, pressed by a persistent mother, she agreed to interview a young lad of five. To test his ability, she pointed to the clock and asked, "What number is the big hand pointing to?" He answered slowly, "Four." "And the little hand?" the teacher coaxed. Puzzled, he looked from the clock to her and asked, "Do you want to know the time?"


FOLLOWING a heavy-metal rock concert, one punk rocker stopped at the front desk of the hotel where I work and asked if she had any messages.  When I handed her an unsigned note she asked if I could describe the man who had left it. "That's easy," I said. "He wore tight orange-leather pants, high-heeled black boots and a T-shirt with strategically cut holes. I remember a row of colored safety pins through the outside edge of one ear, and he wore purple eye shadow. And his hair was orange and spiked." "Well," she said, obviously disappointed, "that could be anybody."


TO CLOSE each day's activities in summer and on holidays in the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World at Lake Buena Vista, Fla., a huge fireworks display lights up the sky. One night I noticed a small boy about three years old perched on his father's shoulder. The child sat mesmerized, aware only of what was exploding in the heavens. When the fireworks were over, the little boy looked up into the sky again and said, "Thank you, God."


MAME THURBER, the mother of humorist James Thurber, was a renowned practical joker. In her 60s, she went to visit a friend she had not seen for 30 years. The plan was for Mrs. Thurber to wear a red rose so that the friend could identify her at the railroad station. When Mrs. Thurber arrived, she noticed a very old woman asleep on a bench, pinned the rose on her, and stepped back to watch. The friend arrived, stared in disbelief and shook the woman until she awoke. "Why, Mame Thurber," said she to the uncomprehending stranger, "how are you?  You're looking just fine!"


THREE contestants were battling it out in a TV quiz game. It was the final round, and the emcee said, "Come up with the missing word at the end of the phrase, and spell it correctly, and you will win our grand-prize trip to Europe. The phrase is 'Old MacDonald had a — ' and remember you must spell the missing word."
   The first contestant said: "Old MacDonald had a house - h-o-u-s-e."
The audience groaned.
   The second contestant tried, "Old MacDonald had a ranch - r-a-n-c-h."
More audience groaning.
   The third contestant said, "Old MacDonald had a farm!"
Before he could start to spell farm, the applause was deafening, and when it calmed down the emcee said, "All right, all you have to do now is spell that magic word and you win the trip to Europe."
   The contestant smiled in triumph: "Sure, it's easy. E-I-E-I-0."


THE place is the Coliseum. Before a crowd of thousands, a Christian stands alone in the centre of the arena. He is calm and unafraid.  Nero has starved six of his fiercest lions for a week to assure the blood-thirsty crowd a good performance.
  The first lion is released and bounds towards its victim, then an amazing thing happens. The beast freezes as the Christian whispers into its ear. Tail between its legs, the lion slinks away.
   One by one, five more lions retreat after the Christian whispers to them. The crowd becomes angry, and Nero demands that the Christian be brought before him. "What do you say that makes the lions cower so?" asks Nero. "Tell me and I'll grant you your freedom."
   "It's simple," explains the Christian. "I just tell them, 'Remember, you'll be expected to say a few words after your dinner.' "


ALTHOUGH individual performers can cause problems for a conductor in securing the proper response to his baton, the conflict is greatly magnified when a choral group is involved. This was once exemplified by a plea from Sir Thomas Beecham at a choral rehearsal of the Messiah.
   "Ladies and gentlemen, if you will make a point of singing 'All we, like sheep, have gone astray' with a little less satisfaction, we'll meet the aesthetical as well as the theological requirements."


WHEN my seven-year-old son became a Suzuki violin student, I became a "Suzuki Mom."  The parent of a student in the Suzuki program takes "ownership" of the agenda, and everything becomes "ours"  our music, our practicing, our lesson, even our violin.  Early one morning in our quiet, conservative Toronto suburb, just as my husband was getting into the car to go to work, I remembered "we" had broken a string during practice the night before.  I rushed to the door, threw it open and impulsively shouted to my husband — and everyone else in the neighbourhood, "Don't forget, honey, I need a new 'g' string!"


ONE evening I was invited to dinner by a young man I had a crush on, a trumpeter. I was 17, and this was my first big date.  There were candles and flowers on the table, and soft music playing in the background. Although the conversation was somewhat one-sided  -all about music-  I was desperately in love as only a 17-year-old can be, so I didn't mind.  After we had finished our dinner, my companion leaned across the table, looked into my eyes and smiled.  "You have a beautiful mouth, Katherine."  This is it, I thought. I waited, my heart jumping.  "I bet you could play the trumpet."


WHILE touring with a children's theater company I was in a play which involved a character called the Ice Woman, who wanted winter to last all year round.  Throughout the play we required the help of the children in defeating the Ice Woman.  Finally she is banished and the old man of the village calls out as she makes her exit, "Go to the North Pole, Ice Woman!"  While most of the audience of kindergarten youngsters cheered, one little boy burst into tears and could not be comforted.  Thinking he was frightened by the Ice Woman's costume, the old man said, "It's all right, she's gone to the North Pole."  With an anxious expression, the boy just barely managed to sob, "But that's where Santa Claus lives!"


SEVERAL tons of seaweed remained on a truck at a British movie studio while two unions argued over whether it was living (and should be unloaded by gardeners) or dead (and handled by scenery shifters). After the seaweed had sat in the sun for a couple of days, it was removed - by a garbage man.


I USED to have a job painting clown faces on children at a flea market. Each day when I arrived, I'd paint my own face first. One morning as I examined my makeup in the rest room, I was pleased that my clown white looked even, my mouth and nose shone a suitably garish red, and my bright purple eyebrows formed perfect triangles. I also noticed a woman at a sink nearby watching me and shaking her head disapprovingly. Finally, on her way out, she tapped my shoulder and whispered, "Too much!"


JAMES DEPREIST, former conductor of the Quebec Symphony Orchestra, proved himself a quick wit in an appearance before the Multnomah County Board of Commissioners to thank the county for its financial support. When Commissioner Earl Blumenauer observed that the symphony took in a far higher percentage of its expenses at the ticket window than did the transportation department, DePreist interrupted to add, "And we're usually on time too."


A GIFTED concert violinist was complimented after the conclusion of a particularly moving performance. "That was absolutely wonderful," said the admirer. "I'd give my life to be able to play like that." "I did," replied the artist.


IN ONE of my magic acts I use a guillotine. First I slice a cabbage in half to demonstrate the blade's effectiveness. Then I put my assistant's head in the stock. But before dropping the blade a second time, I invite a young boy from the audience to help. I have him kneel, holding his hands under the woman's head. In a loud voice I say, "You catch the head, and don't let it roll into the audience." Then I whisper to the youngster, "When she screams, run to your seat." Countless times the blade dropped, my assistant screamed, the boy ran and the audience enjoyed a good laugh. During one performance, however, I whispered to the child, "When she screams, run to your seat," and the solemn faced youngster whispered back, "But what'll I do with the head?"


A FELLOW I know had formed a rock 'n' roll band that had everything necessary to start on the local circuit but a name. At a meeting the group held to figure out something attractive, the sound man suggested a name that would guarantee a packed house every night: FREE ROAST BEEF.


I HAD been a banquet speaker at a conference of school administrators at a large hotel. The next morning I stopped at the concierge's desk to purchase a stamp. But, after fishing through my purse, I discovered that I didn't have any change, and my smallest bill was a ten. Just then, a man approached the desk. "Allow me," he said, and placed 32 cents in front of the concierge. "Oh, no," I said. "I'll get this bill changed." "Please," he insisted. "After all the pleasure you gave me last night, let me." I smiled and thanked him. "I don't know what you did for him," said the concierge after the man left, "but whatever it was, he certainly got off cheap."


HIRED to perform as a magician at a church banquet, I closed my act by "magically" producing candy for all of the children, and then took a seat next to the podium to listen to a speech by the school superintendent. It wasn't long before I noticed a small boy in the fourth row trying desperately to get my attention. I pretended to ignore him, but the more uninterested I appeared, the more outlandish his attention getting antics became. By mid-speech, the superintendent was visibly annoyed. In a final effort to save his speech, he turned to me and said, "I suppose if I am ever to continue you should find out what is troubling that young man." Embarrassed, I went over to the child. "What's wrong?" I asked. In a loud voice, he replied, "My mom says I can't eat candy. Could you make mine a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich?"
   

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Last updated October 02, 2015 by Becquet Enterprises