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Smart ladies

There are 3 ladies on a flight. Suddenly the pilot informed them that there was a technical problem and the plane was going to crash into the sea.



A chinese lady quickly took her cosmetics set out and started to doll herself up.





A Malay lady beside her questioned her on her actions. The chinese lady replied that if she lookod beautiful, the guys coming to rescue survivors would usually save the pretty ladies first,On hearing this, the Malay lady started to put on all her jewellery.





An Indian woman sitting beside the Malay lady was curious and questioned her.



The Malay lady said that the rescuers would save her because she would easily be identified by the glitter of her jewels.





Then the Indian woman started taking her clothes off.





Both the Chinese and Malay ladies were shocked and questioned her.The Indian woman then replied that rescue teams do not usually look for survivors. They usually look for the Black Box first.

Mr Datas Twas the Night Before Christmas (Star Trek)

Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums. My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance with out, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself – thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen – Now Dasher, now Dancer… et al. – guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved – with utmost celerity and via a downward leap – entry by way of the smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albions floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn.

A helicopter was flying around

A helicopter was flying around above Seattle yesterday when an electrical malfunction disabled all of the aircrafts electronic navigation and communications equipment. Due to the clouds and haze, the pilot could not determine the helicopters position and course to steer to the airport.



The pilot saw a tall building, flew toward it, circled, drew a handwritten sign, and held it in the helicopters window. The pilots sign said WHERE AM I? in large letters.



People in the tall building quickly responded to the aircraft, drew a large sign, and held it in a building window. Their sign said YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER.



The pilot smiled, waved, looked at his map, determined the course to steer to SEATAC airport, and landed safely.



After they were on the ground, the co-pilot asked the pilot how the YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER sign helped determine their position.



The pilot responded I knew that had to be the MICROSOFT building because, similar to their help-lines, they gave me a technically correct but completely useless answer.

The Moose Hunters

Two hunters were off on their annual trip to the Canadian wilderness to bag a moose. As the seaplane landed on a lake in a remote area, the pilot said, Ill be back in one week to pick you up. But only one moose, please. When he returned to the lake, he found the hunters proudly standing beside two moose. I told you guys only one moose! the furious flier screamed. Theres no way the plane can take off with that much weight! Youre just a chicken pilot, one hunter said. We killed two moose last year and that pilot wasnt afraid to take off. Stung by the suggestion of cowardice, he reconsidered. All right, if you did it last year, I guess we can try it. They loaded up and the pilot taxied to the far end of the lake to begin his take-off. The plane bounced across the water as it strained to get airborne, but the overloaded aircraft finally ran out of space and crashed into the trees. Some time later, the hunters regained consciousness. Where are we? one asked. His friend looked around at the scattered debris, then back at the edge of the lake and replied, Oh, I guess about a hundred yards farther than last year.

Jewish gentleman and two Arab businessmen on an Air France flight

Heres another non-offensive ethnic joke to add to the collection. Gregory Peck told this one during a TV interview.

Seems a Jewish gentleman and two Arab businessmen found themselves seated three-abreast on an Air France flight to the United States.

The Jew, wishing to demonstrate he supported the new spirit of cooperation, mentioned to the Arabs that he was going to the washroom and could he get them something while he was up.

In keeping with the gracious tone of the gesture, the Arabs said yes, they would each like an orange juice.

Moments after the Jew had left, the plane began its descent and the pilot announced that they would soon be landing. One Arab noticed that the Jew had removed his shoes during the flight and that they were still right there on the floor. He nudged his friend and suggested that they spit in the shoes. And they did, one large goober in each shoe.

The Jew returned with the juice, which the Arabs drank down in a gulp.

The Arabs thanked him profusely and then suggested that he put on his shoes since the plane would soon be landing. Moments after he had slipped his feet into his shoes, he felt the slime ooze over the soles of his feet.

He sat quietly for a minute, and then he turned to his Arab neighbours, who could barely restrain their laughter, and he said in a soft, sorrowful voice: When will it all end – the hatred, the vengance, the killing, the spitting in the shoes, the pissing in the orange juice!

Lost in the baloon

Two men are flying in a captive balloon. The wind is ugly and they come away from their course and they have no idea where they are.

So they go down to 15 m above ground and ask a passing wanderer. Could you tell us where we are?

You are in a balloon.

So the one pilot to the other:

The answer is perfectly right and absolutely useless. The man must be an economist

Then you must be businessmen, answers the man.

Thats right! How did you know?

You have such a good view from where you are and yet you dont know where you are!

God Will Save Me..

There came a big flood, and the water around Bholas house was rising steadily..

Bhola was standing on the porch, watching water rising all around him, when a man in a boat came along and called to Bhola, Get in the boat and Ill get you out of here. Bhola replied, No thanks, God will save me.

Bhola went into the house, and the water was starting to pour in. So, he went up to the second floor.

As he looked out, another man in a boat came along, and he called to Bhola, Get in the boat and Ill get you out of here.

Again, Bhola replied, No thanks. God will save me.

The water kept rising. So, Bhola got out onto the roof.

A helicopter flew over, and the pilot called down to Bhola, Ill drop you a rope,grab onto it, and Ill get you out of here.

Again Bhola replied, No thanks. God will save me.

The water rose and rose, and soon nearly covered the whole house. Bhola fell in, and drowned.

When he arrived in Heaven, he saw God, and asked Him, Why didnt you save me from that terrible flood? Did I not show you my faith?

With a loving but irritated tone God replied, What more would you have me do? I sent people in two boats and a helicopter?

Nothing can stop the US Air Force

An F-4 was flying escort with a B-52 and generally making a nuisance of
himself by flying rolls around the lumbering old bomber. The message for the
B-52 crew was, Anything you can do, I can do better.

Not to be outdone, the
bomber pilot announced that he would rise to the challenge. The B-52 continued
its flight, straight and level, however. Perplexed, the fighter pilot asked,
So? What did you do?

We just shut down two engines.

Henry Cate III

Airlines running operating systems

Here are some basic descriptions of what may happen if airplanes had different operating systems running them.

DOS: Everybody pushes it till it glides, then jumps on and lets it coast till it skids, then jumps off, pushes, jumps back on, etc.

DOS with QEMM: Same as DOS, but with more leg room for pushing.

Macintosh: All the flight attendants, captains and baggage handlers look the same, act the same and talk the same. Every time you ask a question, you are told you dont need to know, dont want to know and everything will be done for you without your knowing, so just shut up.

OS/2: To get on board, you have to have your ticket stamped 10 different times by standing in 10 different lines. Then you fill out a form asking how you want your seating arranged–with the look and feel of an ocean liner, a passenger train or a bus. If you get on board and off the ground, you will have a wonderful trip, except when the rudder and flaps freeze, in which case you have time to say your prayers before you crash.

Windows: Colorful airport terminal, friendly flight attendants, easy access to a plane, and an uneventful takeoff. Then, all in a sudden, boom! You blow up without any warning whatsoever.

NT: The terminal and flight attendants all look like those the Windows plane uses, but the process of checking in and going through security is a nightmare. Once aboard, those passengers with first class tickets can go anywhere they want and arrive in half the time, while the vast majority of passengers with coach tickets cant even get aboard.

Unix: Everyone brings one piece of the plane. Then they go on the runway and piece it together, all the while arguing about what kind of plane theyre building.

CAIRO: The airplane is distributed among 47 different hangars in 13 airports scattered over 8 states, 4 Canadian provinces, and a remote mountain hideaway in Nicaragua. But you dont need to know where the airplane is or who it belongs to in order to fly it. Actually, you dont fly the airplane itself; you fly a simulation that behaves just like the real thing except that you dont go anywhere. But thats okay, because when the world is at your fingertips you never need to leave home.

Joke found on http://www.ahajokes.com

Dont be on this flight

This is Captain Sinclair speaking. On behalf of my crew Id like to welcome you aboard British Airways flight 602 from New York to London. We are currently flying at a height of 35,000 feet midway across the Atlantic.

If you look out of the windows on the starboard side of the aircraft, you will observe that both the starboard engines are on fire.

If you look out of the windows on the port side, you will observe that the port wing has fallen off.

If you look down towards the Atlantic ocean, you will see a little yellow life raft with three people in it waving at you.

Thats me your captain, the co-pilot, and one of the air stewardesses. This is a recorded message. Have a good flight!

Joke found on http://www.ahajokes.com