An elderly couple is enjoying a 50 year anniversary dinner together in a
small tavern. The husband leans over and asks his wife, "Do you remember
the first time we had sex together over fifty years a go? We went behind
this tavern where you leaned against the fence and I made love to you."

"Yes," she says, "I remember it well."

"Ok," he says, "How about taking a stroll round there again and we can
do it for old time's sake."

"Oooooooh Charlie, you devil, that sounds like a good idea."

There's a police officer sitting in the next booth listening to all
this, and having a chuckle to himself. He thinks, "I've got to see these
two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them
so there's no trouble." So he follows them. They walk haltingly along,
leaning on each other for support, aided by walking sticks. Finally they
get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence. The old
lady lifts her skirt, takes her knickers down and the old man drops his
trousers. She turns around and as she hangs on to the fence, the old man
moves in.

Suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the watching
policeman has ever seen. They are bucking and jumping like
eighteen-year-olds. This goes on for about forty minutes.

She's yelling, "Ohhh, God!" He's hanging on to her hips for dear life.
This is the most athletic sex imaginable. Finally, they both collapse
panting on the ground. The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned
something about life that he didn't know. After about half an hour of
lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet
and put their clothes back on. The Policeman, still watching thinks,
that was truly amazing, he was going like a train. I've got to ask him
what his secret is.

As the couple passes, he says to them, "That was something else. You
must have been having sex for about forty minutes. How do you manage it?
You must have had a fantastic life together. Is there some sort of secret?"

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

Great!!!! ROFLMAO!!!!!

jo4hn wrote:

An elderly couple is enjoying a 50 year anniversary dinner together in a
small tavern. The husband leans over and asks his wife, "Do you remember
the first time we had sex together over fifty years a go? We went behind
this tavern where you leaned against the fence and I made love to you."

"Yes," she says, "I remember it well."

"Ok," he says, "How about taking a stroll round there again and we can
do it for old time's sake."

"Oooooooh Charlie, you devil, that sounds like a good idea."

There's a police officer sitting in the next booth listening to all
this, and having a chuckle to himself. He thinks, "I've got to see these
two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them
so there's no trouble." So he follows them. They walk haltingly along,
leaning on each other for support, aided by walking sticks. Finally they
get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence. The old
lady lifts her skirt, takes her knickers down and the old man drops his
trousers. She turns around and as she hangs on to the fence, the old man
moves in.

Suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the watching
policeman has ever seen. They are bucking and jumping like
eighteen-year-olds. This goes on for about forty minutes.

She's yelling, "Ohhh, God!" He's hanging on to her hips for dear life.
This is the most athletic sex imaginable. Finally, they both collapse
panting on the ground. The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned
something about life that he didn't know. After about half an hour of
lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet
and put their clothes back on. The Policeman, still watching thinks,
that was truly amazing, he was going like a train. I've got to ask him
what his secret is.

As the couple passes, he says to them, "That was something else. You
must have been having sex for about forty minutes. How do you manage it?
You must have had a fantastic life together. Is there some sort of secret?"

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

Awesome. I'll be using that one tomorrow...

Paul

"Mark L." wrote in message
m...
Great!!!! ROFLMAO!!!!!

jo4hn wrote:

An elderly couple is enjoying a 50 year anniversary dinner together in a
small tavern. The husband leans over and asks his wife, "Do you remember
the first time we had sex together over fifty years a go? We went behind
this tavern where you leaned against the fence and I made love to you."

"Yes," she says, "I remember it well."

"Ok," he says, "How about taking a stroll round there again and we can
do it for old time's sake."

"Oooooooh Charlie, you devil, that sounds like a good idea."

There's a police officer sitting in the next booth listening to all
this, and having a chuckle to himself. He thinks, "I've got to see these
two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them
so there's no trouble." So he follows them. They walk haltingly along,
leaning on each other for support, aided by walking sticks. Finally they
get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence. The old
lady lifts her skirt, takes her knickers down and the old man drops his
trousers. She turns around and as she hangs on to the fence, the old man
moves in.

Suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the watching
policeman has ever seen. They are bucking and jumping like
eighteen-year-olds. This goes on for about forty minutes.

She's yelling, "Ohhh, God!" He's hanging on to her hips for dear life.
This is the most athletic sex imaginable. Finally, they both collapse
panting on the ground. The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned
something about life that he didn't know. After about half an hour of
lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet
and put their clothes back on. The Policeman, still watching thinks,
that was truly amazing, he was going like a train. I've got to ask him
what his secret is.

As the couple passes, he says to them, "That was something else. You
must have been having sex for about forty minutes. How do you manage it?
You must have had a fantastic life together. Is there some sort of
secret?"

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

"jo4hn" wrote in message
hlink.net...

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

Do you know what kind of voltage was in that fence?
I'd like to give a try!! :-)

"jo4hn" wrote in message
hlink.net...

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

Do you know what kind of voltage was in that fence?
I'd like to give a try!! :-)

On Wed, 18 Aug 2004 03:09:17 +0000, Paul in MN wrote:

Awesome. I'll be using that one tomorrow...

The joke or the fence? ;^)

--
Joe Wells

"f/256" wrote in message
t.cable.rogers.com...

"jo4hn" wrote in message
hlink.net...

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

Do you know what kind of voltage was in that fence?
I'd like to give a try!! :-)

"Depends", says the old farm kid who was subjected to the indignation of
electric fences on numerous occasions. Most "fencers" (in my generation)
were set up sort of like an auto ignition. Had a set of points that would
hit every few seconds & send out a shot like a spark plug firing, the points
would "bounce" away from each other, then slowly return for the next hit.
Figure around 18-20KV hit. These were frequently powered(in remote
locations) by a "Hotshot" 6V battery, 4 of the old fashioned 1.5V dry cells
all in one case.

Another method, used by my Uncle, was to run a 115V hot lead through a 100W
light bulb, then to the electric fence. You could tell by looking @ the
light bulb in the barn how much grass & brush was leaning on the wire. When
it got too bright, it was time to go out & mow along the fence line.

Either way, makes for a good joke, but YOU try it, I'll pass.

--
Nahmie
The law of intelligent tinkering: save all the parts.

Got some polypropylene twine with stainless threads in it this year. Gives
the deer a visual to remind them of the shock the got last time they
touched. Had some asparagus shoot up while I wasn't looking, and blow into
the fence. Got hot enough to melt the white plastic, which leaves only the
wire strands, and looks like I've got gaps.

Bimetal contacts heat, discharge capacitor, repeat.

"Norman D. Crow" wrote in message
...
Most "fencers" (in my generation)
were set up sort of like an auto ignition. Had a set of points that would
hit every few seconds & send out a shot like a spark plug firing, the
points
would "bounce" away from each other, then slowly return for the next hit.
Figure around 18-20KV hit. These were frequently powered(in remote
locations) by a "Hotshot" 6V battery, 4 of the old fashioned 1.5V dry
cells
all in one case.

Another method, used by my Uncle, was to run a 115V hot lead through a
100W
light bulb, then to the electric fence. You could tell by looking @ the
light bulb in the barn how much grass & brush was leaning on the wire.
When
it got too bright, it was time to go out & mow along the fence line.

Either way, makes for a good joke, but YOU try it, I'll pass.

--
Nahmie
The law of intelligent tinkering: save all the parts.

On Wed, 18 Aug 2004 10:25:08 -0400, "Norman D. Crow"
calmly ranted:

"Depends", says the old farm kid who was subjected to the indignation of
electric fences on numerous occasions.

"Depends" are what you need after trying out an electric
fence that way? I thought so and was too smart to take
the dare every time.


Either way, makes for a good joke, but YOU try it, I'll pass.

Smart man, Nahmie.

---
Where ARE those Weapons of Mass Destruction, Mr. President?
----
http://diversify.com - Guaranteed Weaponless Website Design

Larry Jaques wrote:

On Wed, 18 Aug 2004 10:25:08 -0400, "Norman D. Crow"
calmly ranted:

"Depends", says the old farm kid who was subjected to the
indignation of electric fences on numerous occasions.

"Depends" are what you need after trying out an electric fence
that way? I thought so and was too smart to take the dare
every time.

Either way, makes for a good joke, but YOU try it, I'll
pass.

Some time back in Minnesota a neighbor asked for help putting up
his hay. Being a dumb computer geek who didn't know just how out
of condition I was, I said: "Sure."

By noon my hands were raw and my eyes were burning. We piled off
in the yard by the barn; and I found a nice shady spot and a
place where I could lean back to rest a bit while he zipped into
the house. A few minutes later his wife came out with a *big*
tray of tall iced teas - looked at me and started to laugh
almost hysterically. She almost dropped the tray and did manage
to spill a lot of the tea.

When she calmed down she asked (still giggling) how I was holding
up to farm work. Told her I was hot and sweaty but otherwise
doing ok, at which point she disolved into laughter again; but
this time everyone was laughing (except me, 'cause I didn't know
what was so incredibly funny). It was her husband who let me know
that the fence I was draped against was "hot".

I never even noticed.

--
Morris Dovey
DeSoto, Iowa USA

"Morris Dovey" wrote in message
...
Larry Jaques wrote:

On Wed, 18 Aug 2004 10:25:08 -0400, "Norman D. Crow"
calmly ranted:

"Depends", says the old farm kid who was subjected to the
indignation of electric fences on numerous occasions.

"Depends" are what you need after trying out an electric fence
that way? I thought so and was too smart to take the dare
every time.

Either way, makes for a good joke, but YOU try it, I'll
pass.

Some time back in Minnesota a neighbor asked for help putting up
his hay. Being a dumb computer geek who didn't know just how out
of condition I was, I said: "Sure."

By noon my hands were raw and my eyes were burning. We piled off
in the yard by the barn; and I found a nice shady spot and a
place where I could lean back to rest a bit while he zipped into
the house. A few minutes later his wife came out with a *big*
tray of tall iced teas - looked at me and started to laugh
almost hysterically. She almost dropped the tray and did manage
to spill a lot of the tea.

When she calmed down she asked (still giggling) how I was holding
up to farm work. Told her I was hot and sweaty but otherwise
doing ok, at which point she disolved into laughter again; but
this time everyone was laughing (except me, 'cause I didn't know
what was so incredibly funny). It was her husband who let me know
that the fence I was draped against was "hot".

I never even noticed.
If you had on some good thick-soled sneakers or decent boots, they might
have done the insulation.

I can remember being around 10 yr. old, walking along thefence with my
Uncle, me being barefoot, him in rubber boots, and all of a sudden he'd grab
my hand with one of his, and the fence with his other hand. WOW! I do NOT
like electric shock. Of course, he would also check to see if the fence was
working by grabbing the wire in one hand and digging the fingers of his
other hand into the grass or dirt. Not me!

--
Nahmie
The law of intelligent tinkering: save all the parts.

"Norman D. Crow" writes:

I can remember being around 10 yr. old, walking along thefence with my
Uncle, me being barefoot, him in rubber boots, and all of a sudden he'd
grab
my hand with one of his, and the fence with his other hand. WOW! I do NOT
like electric shock. Of course, he would also check to see if the fence
was
working by grabbing the wire in one hand and digging the fingers of his
other hand into the grass or dirt. Not me!

Ah yes, the days of old.

Just to carry this a little further.

Knew some old time mechanics who would disconnect a spark plug wire from a
running engine, grab the end with one hand and the nearest unsuspecting
person with the other.

Didn't seem to bother them, but Boy Howdy that would get a reaction from the
one who was grabbed.

The other was in the industrial electrical area.

Way back when, factories were upgrading their electrical distribution
systems from 240V to 480V so it was common for both to exist during the
transition which might take a couple of years.

Quite common for a "sparkie" to back hand the bus bars of an open panel
board.

Based on how fast and how hard his hand closed and was kicked off the bus,
determined whether it was a 240V or a 480V panel.

I know, should have used a "wiggie", but that took all the fun out of it.G

I had a young co-op student who took a 120V light bulb screwed into a socket
with a pair of wire leads connected and touched the bus bars of a 480V panel
board.

The lamp exploded sending glass into his arms and face, cutting him rather
severely.

Spent his 3 month co-op period in the hospital as I remember.

Lew

On Wed, 18 Aug 2004 10:25:08 -0400, "Norman D. Crow"
wrote:




"f/256" wrote in message
et.cable.rogers.com...

"jo4hn" wrote in message
hlink.net...

The old man says, "Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

Do you know what kind of voltage was in that fence?
I'd like to give a try!! :-)

"Depends", says the old farm kid who was subjected to the indignation of
electric fences on numerous occasions. Most "fencers" (in my generation)
were set up sort of like an auto ignition. Had a set of points that would
hit every few seconds & send out a shot like a spark plug firing, the points
would "bounce" away from each other, then slowly return for the next hit.
Figure around 18-20KV hit. These were frequently powered(in remote
locations) by a "Hotshot" 6V battery, 4 of the old fashioned 1.5V dry cells
all in one case.


My dad had the 110v International Weedchopper. Same kind of mechanism
but the battery never went dead. Because it was a mechanical point system
(I can still hear the thing clicking), the charge/discharge times were
really long -- especially if you were touching the fence. The long times
also caused problems with starting fires.

He later graduated to the electronic fencers -- shorter hot time so you
can let go now after only a few milliseconds of extreme charge and pain.
When home a week ago, I got to help Dad chase some cows in and help fix the
fence where they had gotten out. After over 15 year of not having done
that, I still had a hard time screwing up the courage to tough the electric
wire even though it was down (I was zapped way too many times by a "down"
electric fence)

Another method, used by my Uncle, was to run a 115V hot lead through a 100W
light bulb, then to the electric fence. You could tell by looking @ the
light bulb in the barn how much grass & brush was leaning on the wire. When
it got too bright, it was time to go out & mow along the fence line.

Either way, makes for a good joke, but YOU try it, I'll pass.

In article , Norman D. Crow
wrote:

I can remember being around 10 yr. old, walking along thefence with my
Uncle, me being barefoot, him in rubber boots, and all of a sudden he'd grab
my hand with one of his, and the fence with his other hand. WOW! I do NOT
like electric shock. Of course, he would also check to see if the fence was
working by grabbing the wire in one hand and digging the fingers of his
other hand into the grass or dirt. Not me!

Here is the absitively, posilutely TRUE story of "Dave, the Pigs and
the Electric Fence" (tm) and (c)

-------------------------------------------------

When I was in my early 20's (just about exactly 25 years ago) we had a
small hobby farm. We decided to buy 6 weaner piglets and raise them for
meat. The advice we had was to use an electric fence, so we bought the
charger unit, and a bunch of wire, posts and insulators, and set up a
nice pen in a muddy, but densely overgrown pasture that had been laying
fallow for a couple of years. Perfect for pigs .

My brother Brian and I built a crate in the back of his pick-me-up
truck (brother Sean had wrecked his leg in a motorcycle accident,
brother Gord is disabled, sister Suzanne was only about 5, and we
didn't like to let our mom near tools g), and headed for the
Cloverdale auction, where we managed to get a half dozen little porkers
at a good price. Then it was back to the farm, and with little ado we
managed to get them into the pen.

Now, pigs are very intelligent animals, and the little piglets quickly
learned to stay away from the fence. This particular fence sent a pulse
of electricity through the wires every 1.5 seconds, not enough to
injure, but a good jolt for a little piggy standing on the wet ground
of British Columbia's Fraser Valley. Pigs are *so* intelligent, in
fact, that we soon realized we could save power by turning the fence
*off* after they had learned that if they touched it, they got zapped.
Only thing is... Pigs are *so* intelligent, in fact, that we soon
realized we had to make sure we turned the fence *on* again every few
days, because if one of them accidentally touched it and *didn't* get a
zap, the fact was quickly communicated to it's piggy siblings.

Of course, one day, we left it a day too long and *all* the pigs
escaped.

It was a sunny morning, and I was hoeing the corn, dressed only in a
pair of gumboots and a pair of cutoffs, with my (then) long hair tied
back in a ponytail, when I heard a yell from Brian, "Oh SH*T! The pigs
are out!" I dashed out of the corn, and jumped the wooden fence into
the pasture. Brian yelled for Mom to turn the electric fence back on,
and the chase was on, Brian and I in the wet pasture, and Mom, Sean,
Gord and Suzanne leaning on the fence and watching in a mix of concern
and amusement.

Brian and I quickly developed a strategy of picking a single piglet,
herding it toward the pen, and then leaping at it, grabbing the back
legs, and quickly lifting and depositing it back inside the pen, where
it quickly learned that the power was back on.

We were down to two pigs left, and I was hot on the trail of mine. I
saw Brian catch his last one, flip it gently into the pen, and then
turn to try to head mine off.

The pig and I were racing down the long side of the pen, and I was
preparing for my leap. By this time I was covered in wet mud, and
sweating rather profusely. As we near the end of the pen, the pig made
a quick turn, right at the corner, along the short side.

I tried to do the same.

I failed.

My feet went out from under me and I landed on my side, in the mud,
with three wires under me. One just above my hip, one at the bottom of
my rib cage, and one under my arm.

Now, recall two things:

1- The fence was set to deliver a pulse of electricity every 1.5
seconds.
2- The fence was now turned on.

Time slowed to a near standstill as I realized that:

1- The fence was now turned on;
2- I had less than 1.5 seconds to get to my feet; and,
3- There was no way in hell I was going to make it.

ZAP!

While I suffered no injury, except to my pride (I was the only one
present who *wasn't* howling with laughter), I discovered just how
effective a farm electric fence can be in aiding a young man to his
feet, quickly. When the jolt hit me, I was propelled nearly upright,
and then fell backwards, to land in a sitting position in the mud.

Fortunately, Brian had indeed managed to catch the last of the piglets,
and that part of the ordeal was over except for the laughter from my
family, which continues to this day.

Later that year, the pork was somehow even tastier than I had imagined.
--------------------------------------------------

Lew Hodgett writes:

Knew some old time mechanics who would disconnect a spark plug wire from a
running engine, grab the end with one hand and the nearest unsuspecting
person with the other.

Didn't seem to bother them, but Boy Howdy that would get a reaction from the
one who was grabbed.


Ah, takes me back to Avionics shop days at Kaneohe Bay. We had a unit called a
bomb tester, for spark plugs on the helicopters. Why the spark plug tester was
in the electronics shop is the kind of military reasoning that helped me make a
decision not to reenlist, but that thing cranked out something like 10,000
volts (low amps). You didn't have to actually touch the guy near you to shock
him. The bank-zap of a spark traveling something like 3" was something else.
I've got a friend whose electrical training said to never give electricity a
heart path--no 2 hand stuff--and he's right. But back then, we were mostly
19-20, had gotten out of Parris Island within a year, and were invulnerable.

Along about the third or fourth public zap no one came with arm's reach plus a
yard of anyone with the tester.

Charlie Self
"Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen." Ambrose Bierce, The
Devil's Dictionary

"Dave Balderstone" wrote in message
tone.ca...
Here is the absitively, posilutely TRUE story of "Dave, the Pigs and
the Electric Fence" (tm) and (c)

-------------------------------------------------

When I was in my early 20's (just about exactly 25 years ago) we had a
small hobby farm. We decided to buy 6 weaner piglets and raise them for
meat. The advice we had was to use an electric fence, so we bought the
charger unit, and a bunch of wire, posts and insulators, and set up a
nice pen in a muddy, but densely overgrown pasture that had been laying
fallow for a couple of years. Perfect for pigs .

snip of hilarious story

ROTFLMAO!!!

Can only be truly appreciated by someone who has been *associated* with
pigs.

Don't have anything this personal, but . . . the fence we used around the
pig pen was a single strand about 1' off the ground, just high enough a pig
couldn't step over it, and low enough they couldn't crawl under it. However,
Uncle told of one old sow he had that liked to go visit the neighbors, and
found a low spot in the "swale" where the spring seep drained off down
through the pasture. You could always tell when she went visiting, because
you could hear her squeal every time the fencer "hit" her while she crawled
under the wire, and could tell the same way when she came home.

One year when we were trimming under the fence with a scythe, I found the
skeleton of either a raccoon or o'possum that apparently got bitten by the
fence and bit back. The skeleton still had it's jaws around the wire.

--
Nahmie
The law of intelligent tinkering: save all the parts.

"Lew Hodgett" wrote in message
ink.net...
Ah yes, the days of old.

Just to carry this a little further.

Knew some old time mechanics who would disconnect a spark plug wire from a
running engine, grab the end with one hand and the nearest unsuspecting
person with the other.

Didn't seem to bother them, but Boy Howdy that would get a reaction from
the
one who was grabbed.

Waaaay back when . . I've got to guess mid '30's, my Father, who was a
mechanic, had a maintenance contract for the construction fleet when they
were building a trolley line from Jamestown, NY to Warren, PA. (historical
note, there were 2 legs to this trolley line, the Jamestown/Warren leg and
the "Northwest" leg from Jamestown to Westfield, NY, shortened to the "J.W.
& N.W", then nicknamed the "Jesus Wept & No Wonder"). Back to story . . Dad
had a shop set up near the "right of way" so they didn't have to drive or
tow equipment back to town. The *fleet* at this time was Ford Model T's with
"gravity" dumps. However, one of the fixtures in the garage was an old
wooden chair, held together with twists of baling wire, nails, whatever,
with it's hidden secret being the nails in the seat were wired to a Model T
ignition coil, with the switch to turn it on being hidden on a nearby post.
For those not knowing, this coil was a vibrator, which when activated
produced high voltage spark until turned off. Yep, you guessed it, any
"newbie" got to sit in that mysteriously empty chair, given long enough to
get totally relaxed, then ZAP!


The other was in the industrial electrical area.

Way back when, factories were upgrading their electrical distribution
systems from 240V to 480V so it was common for both to exist during the
transition which might take a couple of years.

Quite common for a "sparkie" to back hand the bus bars of an open panel
board.

Based on how fast and how hard his hand closed and was kicked off the bus,
determined whether it was a 240V or a 480V panel.

I know, should have used a "wiggie", but that took all the fun out of
it.G

I'm assuming you mean some kind of meter or tester. When in USN, shipboard
wiring(110V) was fed from panels with both sides of the line fused, using
the old tubular fuses, IIRC about 1 1/2 to 2" long, maybe 3/8" diameter. I
remember seeing "old-timer" Electricians Mates check for blown fuses by
"walking" the index/middle fingers of one hand down the line of fuses until
they either got a shock or didn't get a shock to isolate a blown fuse.
Younger ones used a meter or tester!


--
Nahmie
The law of intelligent tinkering: save all the parts.

I recall how one fellow carefully explained that electricity needs a
complete circuit to travel, and that since he was wearing rubber soled shoes
he wasn't grounded. To test his theory, the story goes that he peed on the
fence. Apparently, either there was an AC component to that fence voltage
and his understand of capacitance was lacking, or those boots weren't non
conducting (black rubber conducts). At any rate, he apparently felt it.
His eyes uncrossed sometime later.

Nahmie writes:

The *fleet* at this time was Ford Model T's with
"gravity" dumps. However, one of the fixtures in the garage was an old
wooden chair, held together with twists of baling wire, nails, whatever,
with it's hidden secret being the nails in the seat were wired to a Model T
ignition coil, with the switch to turn it on being hidden on a nearby post.
For those not knowing, this coil was a vibrator, which when activated
produced high voltage spark until turned off. Yep, you guessed it, any
"newbie" got to sit in that mysteriously empty chair, given long enough to
get totally relaxed, then ZAP!

Ford Hotshot coil. Man, those suckers were fun. Unless you were the guy in the
clown suit for that day. One group, to be unnamed, at Kaneohe Bay liked to wire
a coil and 6 volt drycell into a wall locker (solid steel, of course). Dampen
the concrete floor (waxed and buffed to a high shine, but along about
Sunday...). Lay a wire in the damp, extending said damp to the front of the
locker. Another wire to the top of the locker. Wait until the owner came back
from the shower with feet still damp in flipflops. Laugh one's ass off.

Until, in one case, one of the ever-present jocks got ****ed at one of the
laughers, held him down and poured oil of wintergreen in the crack of his ass.

Ever see a tall skinny guy with one foot almost up to the showerhead and the
other on the floor, woofing away with the water set as hard a flow as possible?

Charlie Self
"Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen." Ambrose Bierce, The
Devil's Dictionary

In article , Norman D. Crow
wrote:

You could always tell when she went visiting, because
you could hear her squeal every time the fencer "hit" her while she crawled
under the wire, and could tell the same way when she came home.

She must have sure liked the neighbors!

Funny!

Herman Family wrote:
I recall how one fellow carefully explained that electricity needs a
complete circuit to travel, and that since he was wearing rubber soled shoes
he wasn't grounded. To test his theory, the story goes that he peed on the
fence. Apparently, either there was an AC component to that fence voltage
and his understand of capacitance was lacking, or those boots weren't non
conducting (black rubber conducts). At any rate, he apparently felt it.
His eyes uncrossed sometime later.



I have a quote somewhere that goes roughly

"There are 3 types of people. Those that learn what they've been told.
Those that learn from other peoples mistakes. But the vast majority
have to **** on the electric fence for themselves....."

Brad