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A principal of a small middle school had a problem with a few of the older girls starting to use lipstick. When applying it in the bathroom they would then press their lips to the mirror and leave lip prints. Before it got out of hand he thought of a way to stop it.
He gathered all the girls together that wore lipstick and told them he wanted to meet with them in the ladies room at 2 PM. They gathered at 2pm and found the principal and the school custodian waiting for them.
The principal explained that it was becoming a problem for the custodian to clean the mirror every night. He said he felt the ladies did not fully understand just how much of a problem it was and he wanted them to witness just how hard it was to clean. The custodian then demonstrated. He took a long brush on a handle out of a box. He then dipped the brush in the nearest toilet, moved to the mirror and proceeded to remove the lipstick. That was the last day the girls pressed their lips on the mirror.
Beaverton School District
Beaverton, Oregon
This is an actual essay written by a college applicant. The author, Hugh Gallagher, now attends NYU.
ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.
Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.
There once was a lawyer who was so fanatical about his golf game that he used to play every day. One morning he had played the first hole and was just about to tee off on the second, when he saw the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen putting on the first green. The lawyer waited until the woman had reached the second tee and asked if she would like to join him and they could finish the round together. To his surprise the woman agreed and they played the remaining holes. Not only was this woman beautiful, she was also a good golfer. When they completed their round, the lawyer told the woman that, not only was he a lawyer, but he was also a cordon bleu chef and wine buff. He invited her back to his place for a meal and a few drinks. The woman accepted enthusiastically and off they went. Back at the house the lawyer cooked a magnificent meal. In fact it was more than just cooking it was a performance to behold. They enjoyed good food, ood wine and good conversation.
After the meal, the woman repaid the lawyer with the best oral sex he had ever experienced. The lawyer was so taken by the beauty and skill of this woman and desired her no end. He then asked if she would like to play golf the following morning, to which she agreed. Once again they enjoyed a great game of golf, a magnificent evening meal and once more the woman performed sensational oral sex on the lawyer.
This went on for three weeks when the lawyer finally said to the woman, "Listen, the golf and the company have been fantastic! But, there are only so many blow jobs a man can take. When are we going to have sexual intercourse?"
"We can't," said the woman.
"Why not?" came the reply.
"Because I'm a transvestite" replied the woman.
"YOU BITCH!" screamed the lawyer, "...I CAN'T BELIEVE that you've been playing from the LADIES TEE FOR THE LAST THREE WEEKS!"
God was reviewing his checklist for creating the world
Now God sits Adam & Eve down and says, "I've gone over my list and everything so far is good. Now I've 2 more items to take care of. The first, one of you will get to pee standing up..." Immediately Adam throws his hand in the air, "Oh I will, I will! Pick me, pick me, can I,can I,please?" God looks down at his list, "Okay, okay--Very well then Adam, you get to pee standing up," God says as He checks it off on His list.
"That leaves the last one for you Eve," God says. "You'll get to have multiple orgasms".
BART SIMPSON'S PUNISHMENT
The opening credits of The Simpsons shows Bart Simpson writing the same sentence over and over again on a chalkboard, the old "write it 100 times" punishment, which establishes him as a troublemaker. Each episode is different. Someone apparently went to the trouble of taping all the Simpsons, watching them all and writing down what Bart is writing on the board. These are the collected writings of Bart Simpsonfrom the opening credits:
In Vegas, a blonde walks up to a Coke machine and puts in a coin. Out pops a coke. The blonde looks amazed and runs away to get some more coins. She returns and starts feeding the machine madly, and of course the machine keeps popping out the drinks.
Another person walks up behind the blonde and watches her antics for a few minutes before stopping her and asking if someone else could have a go.
The blonde spins around and shouts in her face: "Can't you see I'm winning??"
Results of the Washington Post Style Invitational, in which readers were asked to come up with intriguing questions to be considered by President Clinton's special commission to study the moral and practical effects of cloning:
Are the pope and his clone both infallible? What if they disagree about something?
Can you clone Alan Greenspan, or does it have to be LIVING tissue?
If Larry King clones himself and interviews himself on his show, wouldn't that pretty much make nuclear war something we could all look forward to?
If I have sex with my clone, will I go blind?
If the DNA from the bloody glove were cloned and produced a baby O.J. Simpson, then could we maybe get an actual guilty verdict?
If Hare Krishnas start cloning themselves, how will the rest of us find out?
If you cloned Henry IV, would he be Henry V or Henry IV Jr. or wait, Henry IV part II?
If Michael Jackson is cloned, is it against the law for him to play with himself as a child?
Would there be a market for genetic "factory seconds" and "irregulars"?
Could they clone Al Gore, or would he have to be grafted?
Is it possible to make a clone of Kate Moss and then attach the two together to make a regular-sized person? Sure, she'd have two heads, but that would still be way more normal.
Would it work if I binged and my clone purged?
Would it be ethical to dig up the remains of our founding fathers, create clones from the bone cells, and place them in a theme park called Clonial Williamsburg?
This guy has four daughters who all live at home. One Friday night the doorbell rings. The guy answers it and a kid standing there says "Hi, I'm Freddy. I'm here to pick up Betty. We're gonna go eat spaghetti. Is she ready?" The man, mildly amused calls down his daughter and the two leave. A few minutes later the doorbell rings again and he answers. A kid standing there says "Hi, I'm Jim. I'm here to see Kim. We're gonna go for a swim. Can I come in?" The guy, now perplexed, says yes, the daughter comes down and the two take off.
A few minutes later the doorbell rings and again the father answers. A kid standing there says "Hi, I'm Joe. I'm here to pick up Flo. We're gonna go to the show. Can she go?" The man, now kind of annoyed says yes and the two depart.
Sure enough, a few minutes later the door rings and the father answers. A kid standing there says "Hi, I'm Lou, I am here to see Sue, we're going to go..."
The father shot him.
(Guess Sue stayed home.)
Why didn't Hitler drink?
Because it made him mean...
A jew, a black, a gay, a cripple, a woman, a hispanic and an asian walk into a bar, and the bartender says, "So what is this, a joke??"
Definition: Bid - a wild guess followed by two figures past the decimal point.
Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels.
Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round.
I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theatre of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world.
Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment.
When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, a Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes."
This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this "grant money." I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.
There can be only one.
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