This is even funnier when you realize it’s real!

Next time you have a bad day at work think of this guy.

Bob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana .
He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs.

Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister.

She then sent it to radio station 103 .5 on FM dial in
Indiana, who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest.

Needless to say, she won.

Read his letter below…

Hi Sue,

Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.
Last week I had a bad day at the office.

I know you’ve been feeling down lately at work,
so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize
it’s not so bad after all.

Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must
bore you with a few technicalities of my job.

As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea.

I wear a suit to the office.

It’s a wet suit.

This time of year the water is quite cool.

So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel
powered industrial water heater.

This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea.

It heats it to a delightful temperature.

It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose,
which is taped to the air hose.

Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I’ve used it several times
with no complaints.

What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is
take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wet suit.

This floods my whole suit with warm water.

It’s like working in a Jacuzzi.

Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt
started to itch.

So, of course, I scratched it.

This only made things worse.

Within a few seconds my ass started to burn.

I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done.

In agony I realized what had happened.

The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit.

Now, since I don’t have any hair on my back, the jellyfish
couldn’t stick to it, however, the crack of my ass was not as fortunate.

When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the
jellyfish into the crack of my ass.

I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator.

His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he,
along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically.

Needless to say, I aborted the dive.

I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression
stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface
to begin my chamber dry decompression.

When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but
my brass helmet.

As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of
laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me
to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber.

The cream put the fire out, but I couldn’t shit for two days because
my ass was swollen shut.

So, next time you’re having a bad day at work, think about how much
worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your ass.

Now repeat to yourself, ‘I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.’

He became concerned and walked over to the car. He noticed that Linda’s eyes were now open and she looked very strange.

He asked her if she was okay, and Linda replied that she had been shot in the back of the head and had been holding her brains in for over an hour.

The husband called the paramedics, who broke into the car because the doors were locked and Linda refused to remove her hands from her head. When they finally got in, they found that Linda had a wad of bread dough on the back of her head.

A biscuit dough canister had exploded from the heat, making a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot, and the wad of dough hit her in the back of her head. When she reached back to find out what it was, she felt the dough and thought it was her brains.

She initially passed out, but quickly recovered.

Linda is a blonde, a Democrat, and an Obama supporter, but that could all be a coincidence.

The defective biscuit canister was analyzed and the expiration date was from 2008, so it was determined to be Bush’s fault.–

God Bless
America!

Yesterday I was at my local Costco buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Biscuit, The Wonder Dog, and I was in the checkout line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had, an elephant? So, since I’m retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that, no, I didn’t have a dog; I was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and I.V.s in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well, and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me.
I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter’s behind; and, a car hit us both!

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard!

Costco won’t let me shop there anymore.

If there’s a moral to this true-life adventure, it is that you better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.

P.S. Send this (especially) to all your retired friends … it will not only be their laugh for the day, it will also give them inspiration!

COSTELLO: I want to talk about the unemployment rate in America.

ABBOTT: Good subject. Terrible times. It’s about 9%.

COSTELLO: That many people are out of work?

ABBOTT: No, that’s 16%.

COSTELLO: You just said 9%.

ABBOTT: 9% unemployed.

COSTELLO: Right: 9% out of work.

ABBOTT: No, that’s 16%.

COSTELLO: Okay, so it’s 16% unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, that’s 9%.

COSTELLO: WAIT A MINUTE! Is it 9% or 16%?

ABBOTT: 9% are unemployed. 16% are out of work.

COSTELLO: If you’re out of work you’re unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, you can’t count the “Out of Work” as the unemployed. You have to look for work to be unemployed.

COSTELLO: But … they’re out of work!

ABBOTT: No, you miss my point.

COSTELLO: What point?

ABBOTT: Someone who doesn’t look for work can’t be counted with those who look for work. It wouldn’t be fair.

COSTELLO: To whom?

ABBOTT: The unemployed.

COSTELLO: But they’re ALL out of work.

ABBOTT: No, the unemployed are actively looking for work… Those who are out of work stopped looking. They gave up. If you give up, you’re no longer in the ranks of the unemployed.

COSTELLO: So if you’re off the unemployment roles, that would count as less unemployment?

ABBOTT: Unemployment would go down. Absolutely!

COSTELLO: The unemployment goes down just because you don’t look for work?

ABBOTT: Absolutely it goes down. That’s how you get to 9%. Otherwise it would be 16%. You don’t want to read about 16% unemployment do ya?

COSTELLO: That would be frightening.

ABBOTT: Absolutely.

COSTELLO: Wait, I got a question for you. That means there are two ways to bring down the unemployment number?

ABBOTT: Two ways is correct.

COSTELLO: Unemployment can go down if someone gets a job?

ABBOTT: Correct.

COSTELLO: And unemployment can also go down if you stop looking for a job?

ABBOTT: Bingo.

COSTELLO: So there are two ways to bring unemployment down, and the easier of the two is to just stop looking for work.

ABBOTT: Now you’re thinking like an economist.

COSTELLO: I don’t even know what the hell I just said!

And now you know why President Obama’s unemployment figures are improving.

“Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”

The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, “You’re in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above ground elevation of 2,346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north latitude and 100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude.

She rolled her eyes and said, “You must be a Republican.

“I am,” replied the man. “How did you know?”

“Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you told me is technically correct. But I have no idea what to do with your information, and I’m still lost. Frankly, you’ve not been much help to me.”

The man smiled and responded, “You must be an Obama-Democrat.”

“I am,” replied the balloonist. “How did you know?”

“Well,” said the man, “you don’t know where you are — or where you are going. You’ve risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You’re in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but somehow, now it’s my fault.”

P R I C E L E S S !

A little girl raises her hand. “I had a kitty-cat who stuttered.”

The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become, asked the girl to describe the incident.

“Well,” she began, “I was in the back yard with my kitty and the Rottweiler that lives next door got a running start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!”

“That must’ve been scary,” said the teacher.

“It sure was,” said the little girl.

“My kitty raised her back, went ‘Ffffff!, Ffffff!, Fffffff,’ but before she could say ‘FUCK’ the Rottweiler ate her!”

The teacher had to leave the room.

I looked to see what she was cooking, and I see one of my socks in the frying pan.

“What are you doing?” I asked her.

She said “I’m doing what you asked me to do last night when you came to bed very drunk,” she replied.

Completely puzzled, I walked away thinking to myself,

“I really don’t remember asking her to cook my sock…”

The store attendant says ‘What does your mother look like?’

The kid says “I have no fucking idea.”