HISTORY LESSON - Railroad tracks.
The US standard railroad gauge, distance between the rails, is 4 feet 8.5 inches. That's an exceedingly odd number.
Why was that gauge used?
Well, because that's the way they built them in England and English engineers designed the first US railroads.
Why did the English build them like that?
Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the wagon tramways and that's the gauge they used.
So, why did 'they' use that gauge then?
Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they had used for building wagons which used that same wheel spacing.
Why did the wagons have that particular odd wheel spacing?
Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break more often on some of the old, long distance roads in England. You see, that's the spacing of the wheel ruts.
So who built those old rutted roads?
Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe, including England, for their legions. Those roads have been used ever since.
And the ruts in the roads?
Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts which everyone else had to match or run the risk of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were all alike in the matter of wheel spacing. Therefore the United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet 8.5 inches is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot. Bureaucracies live forever...........everywhere.
So the next time you are handed a specification/procedure/pr ocess and wonder 'What horse's behinds came up with this?', you may be exactly right. Imperial Roman army chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the rear ends of two war horses - two horses' behinds.
Now, the twist to the story:
When you see a Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad, there are two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank.
These are solid rocket boosters, or SRBs.
The SRBs are made by Thiokol at their factory in Utah .
The engineers who designed the SRBs would have preferred to make them a bit fatter but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the launch site.
The railroad line from the factory happens to run through a tunnel in the mountains and the SRBs had to fit through that tunnel.
The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track and the railroad track, as you now know, is about as wide as two horses' behinds.
So, a major Space Shuttle design feature of what is arguably the world's most advanced transportation system was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of horse's behind.
And you thought being a horse's behind wasn't important?
Ancient horse's behinds control led almost everything and...
CURRENT Horses Asses are controlling everything else.
For those that don't know about history, here is a condensed version...
Humans originally existed as members of small bands of nomadic hunters/gatherers. They lived on deer in the mountains during the summer would go to the coast and live on fish and lobster in the winter.
The two most important events in all of history were the invention of beer and the invention of the wheel.. The wheel was invented to get man to the beer. These were the foundation of modern civilization and together were the catalyst for the splitting of humanity into two distinct subgroups: Liberals and Conservatives.
Once beer was discovered, it required grain and that was the beginning of agriculture. Neither the glass bottle nor aluminium can were invented yet, so while our early humans were sitting around waiting for them to be invented, they just stayed close to the brewery. That's how villages were formed.
Some men spent their days tracking and killing animals to BBQ at night while they were drinking beer. This was the beginning of what is known as the Conservative movement. Other men who were weaker and less skilled at hunting learned to live off the conservatives by showing up for the nightly BBQ's and doing the sewing, fetching, and hair dressing. This was the beginning of the Liberal movement.
Some of these liberal men eventually evolved into women. Those became known as girlie-men. Some noteworthy liberal achievements include the domestication of cats, the invention of group therapy, group hugs, and the concept of Democratic voting to decide how to divide the meat and beer that conservatives provided.
Over the years conservatives came to be symbolised by the largest, most powerful land animal on earth, the elephant. Liberals are symbolized by the jackass. Modern liberals like imported beer (with lime added), but most prefer white wine or imported bottled water. They eat raw fish but like their beef well done. Sushi, tofu, and French food are standard liberal fare.
Another interesting evolutionary side note: most of their women have higher testosterone levels than their men. Most social workers, personal injury attorneys, journalists, dreamers in Hollywood and group therapists are liberals. Liberals invented the designated hitter rule because it wasn't fair to make the pitcher also bat.
Conservatives drink domestic beer, mostly Bud, Coors or Miller. They eat red meat and still provide for their women. Conservatives are big game hunters, rodeo cowboys, lumberjacks, construction workers, firemen, medical doctors, police officers, engineers, corporate executives, athletes, members of the military, airline pilots and generally anyone who works productively. Conservatives who own companies hire other conservatives who want to work for a living.
Liberals produce little or nothing. They like to govern the producers and decide what to do with the production. Liberals believe Europeans are more enlightened than Americans... that is why most of the liberals remained in Europe when conservatives were coming to America. Liberals crept in after the Wild West was tamed and created a business of trying to get more for nothing.
Here ends today's lesson in world history:
It should be noted that a Liberal may have a momentary urge to angrily respond to the above. A Conservative will simply laugh and be so convinced of the absolute truth of this history. And there you have it... let your next action reveal your true self.
Dear Alcohol,
First let me say that I'm a huge fan of yours. As my friend, you always seem to be there when needed. The perfect post-work cocktail, a beer at the game, and you're even around at the holidays (hidden inside chocolates as you warm us when we're stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings).
However, lately I've been wondering about your intentions. While I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, I feel that your influence has led to some unwise consequences:
1. Phone calls and text messages: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation after 2 a.m. can have much substance or necessity. Why would you make me call my ex's? Especially when I know, for a fact, they DO NOT want to hear from me during the day, let alone all hours of the night.
2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal. But, why do you suggest that I eat a taco with chili sauce along with a big Italian meatball and some stale chips (washed down with wine & topped off with a Kit Kat AFTER a few cheese curls & chili cheese fries)? I'm an eclectic eater, but I think you went too far this time.
3. Clumsiness: Unless you're subtly trying to tell me that I need to do more yoga to improve my balance, I see NO need to hammer this issue home by causing me to fall down. It's completely unnecessary, and the black & blue marks that appear on my body mysteriously the next day are beyond me. Similarly, it should never take me more than 45 seconds to get the front door key into the lock.
4. Furthermore: The hangovers have GOT to stop! This is getting ridiculous. I know a little penance for our previous evening's debauchery may be in order. But, the 3 p.m. hangover immobility is completely unacceptable. My entire day is shot. I ask that if the proper precautions are taken (water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to sleep/passing out (face down on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn or wherever), the hangover should be minimal and in no way interfere with my daily activities.
Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now and would like to ensure that we remain on good terms. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter and the needed companion when I just don't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets.
In order to continue this friendship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Friday 3 p.m. (pre happy hour) on your possible solutions. And hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.
Thank you,
Your Biggest Fan
One day, a man walked into the dentist"s office for some dental work.
The dentist said, "Sir, you have a tooth I must pull, What type of pain killer would you like?"
The man looked at the dentist and said, "None, thanks, I have experienced the second greatest pain in my life."
The dentist said, "Sir, pulling this tooth Will be painful, I suggest a painkiller."
The man looked back at the dentist and said, "I have experienced the second greatest pain in my life, Nothing else will ever compare."
The dentist said, "Sir, I"m telling you, use a painkiller."
The man again said to the dentist, "I have experienced the second greatest pain in my life, I do not need painkillers, now pull the tooth."
The dentist then said, "Okay, You asked for it, But first, tell me what was the second greatest pain in your life?"
The man said, "Yes, I remember it well. I was hunting in some woods north of here one snowy day. Walking through the woods, the urge came upon me and I headed over to a tree. Well, I started to do my thing, and when the first part dropped, It set off a large bear trap that was hidden in the snow that closed on my balls. That was the second greatest pain in my life"
The dentist then said, "Ouch! But then what was the first greatest pain in your life?"
The man replied, "When I reached the end of the chain."
Verizon - Feel free to substitute your own local phone company - after all telemarketers are pretty much the same.
One thing that has always bugged me, and I'm sure it does most of you, is to sit down at the dinner table only to be interrupted by a phone call from a telemarketer. I decided, on one such occasion, to try to be as irritating as they were to me. The call was from Verizon and it went something like this:
Me: (swallowing) Hello
Verizon: Hello, this is Verizon...
Me: Is this Verizon?
Verizon: Yes, this is Verizon...
Me: This is Verizon?
Verizon: Yes This is Verizon...
Me: Is this Verizon?
Verizon: YES! This is Verizon, may I speak to Mr. Byron please?
Me: May I ask who is calling?
Verizon: This is Verizon.
Me: OK, hold on.
At this point I put the phone down for a solid 5 minutes thinking that, surely, this person would have hung up the phone. I ate my salad. Much to my surprise, when I picked up the receiver, they were still waiting.
Me: Hello?
Verizon: Is this Mr. Byron?
Me: May I ask who is calling please?
Verizon: Yes this is Verizon...
Me: Is this Verizon?
Verizon: Yes this is Verizon...
Me: This is Verizon?
Verizon: Yes, is this Mr. Byron?
Me: Yes, is this Verizon?
Verizon: Yes sir.
Me: The phone company?
Verizon: Yes sir.
Me: I thought you said this was Verizon.
Verizon: Yes sir, we are a phone company.
Me: I already have a phone.
Verizon: We aren't selling phones today Mr. Byron.
Me: Well whatever it is, I'm really not interested but thanks for calling.
When you are not interested in something, I don't think you can express yourself any plainer than by saying "I'm really not interested," but this lady was persistent.
Verizon: Mr. Byron, we would like to offer you 10 cents a minute, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Now, I am sure she meant she was offering a "rate" of 10 cents a minute, but she at no time used the word "rate." I could clearly see that it was time to whip out the trusty old calculator and do a little ciphering.
Me: Now, that's 10 cents a minute 24 hours a day?
Verizon: (getting a little excited at this point by my interest) Yes sir, that's right! 24 hours a day!
Me: 7 days a week?
Verizon: That's right.
Me: 365 days a year?
Verizon Yes sir.
Me: I am definitely interested in that! Wow!!! That's amazing!
Verizon: We think so!
Me: That's quite a sum of money!
Verizon: Yes sir, it's amazing how it adds up.
Me: OK, so will you send me checks weekly, monthly or just one big one at the end of the year for the full $52,560, and if you send an annual check, can I get a cash advance?
Verizon: Excuse me?
Me: You know, the 10 cents a minute.
Verizon: What are you talking about?
Me: You said you'd give me 10 cents a minute, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. That comes to $144 per day, $1,008 per week and $52,560 per year. I'm just interested in knowing how you will be making payment.
Verizon: Oh no, sir, I didn't mean we'd be paying you. You pay us 10 cents a minute.
Me: Wait a minute here!!! Didn't you say you'd give me 10 cents a minute? Are you sure this is Verizon?
Verizon: Well, yes this is Verizon sir but......
Me: But nothing, how do you figure that by saying that you'll give me 10 cents a minute that I'll give you 10 cents a minute? Is this some kind of subliminal telemarketing scheme? I've read about things like this in the Enquirer, you know. Don't use your alien brainwashing techniques on me.
Verizon: No sir, we are offering 10 cents a minute for.....
Me: THERE YOU GO AGAIN! Can I speak to a supervisor please!
Verizon: Sir, I don't think that is necessary.
Me: Sure! You say that now! What happens later?
Verizon: What?
Me: I insist on speaking to a supervisor!
Verizon: Yes Mr. Byron. Please hold.
So now Verizon has me on hold and my supper is getting cold. I begin to eat while I'm waiting for a supervisor. After a wait of a few minutes and while I have a mouth full of food:
Supervisor: Mr. Byron?
Me: Yeth?
Supervisor: I understand you are not quite understanding our 10 cents a minute program.
Me: Id thish Verr iii zon?
Supervisor: Yes sir, it sure is.
I had to swallow before I choked on my food. It was all I could do to suppress my laughter and I had to be careful not to produce a snort.
Me: No, actually, I was just waiting for someone to get back to me so that I could sign up for the plan.
Supervisor: OK, no problem, I'll transfer you back to the person who was helping you.
Me: Thank you.
I was on hold once again and managed a few more mouthfuls. I needed to end this conversation. Suddenly, there was an aggravated but polite voice at the other end of the phone.
Verizon: Hello Mr. Byron, I understand that you are interested in signing up for our plan?
Me: Do you have that friends and family thing because you can never have enough friends and I'm an only child and I'd really like to have a little brother...
Verizon: (click)
And God populated the earth with broccoli and cauliflower and spinach and green and yellow vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives. And Satan created McDonald's. And McDonald's brought forth the 99-cent double-cheeseburger. And Satan said to Man, "You want fries with that?" And Man said, "Super-size them. " And Man gained pounds.
And God created the healthful yogurt, that woman might keep her figure that man found so fair. And Satan froze the yogurt, and he brought forth chocolate, nuts and brightly coloured sprinkle candy to put on the yoghurt. And woman gained pounds.
And God said, "Try my crispy fresh salad. " And Satan brought forth creamy dressings, bacon bits, and shredded cheese. And there was ice cream for dessert. And woman gained pounds.
And God said, "I have sent your heart healthy vegetables and olive oil with which to cook them. " And Satan brought forth chicken-fried steak from Kentucky, so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained pounds, and his bad cholesterol went through the roof.
And God brought forth running shoes, and Man resolved to lose those extra pounds. And Satan brought forth cable TV with remote control so Man would not have to toil to change channels between ESPN and ESPN2. And Man gained pounds. And God said, "You're running up the score, Devil. "
And God brought forth the potato, a vegetable naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fat fried them. And he created sour cream dip also. And Man clutched his remote control and ate the potato chips waddled in cholesterol. And Satan saw and said, "It is good. " And Man went into cardiac arrest.
And God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery. And Satan created Medical Aid.
This joke is actually for women, but I thought everyone would get a "chuckle" out of it:
We all at some time have encountered problems with the "mammogram" but this takes the cake...Every woman can relate to this story.
While conducting some business at the Courthouse, I overheard a lady, who had been arrested for assaulting a Mammogram Technician, say, "Your Honor, I'm guilty but.....there were extenuating circumstances."
The female Judge said, sarcastically, "I'd certainly like to hear those extenuating circumstances." I did too soooo……
I listened as the lady told her story.
"Your Honor, I had a mammogram appointment, which I actually kept. I was met by this perky little clipboard carrier smiling from ear to ear and she tilted her head to one side and crooned, "Hi! I'm Belinda! All I need you to do is step into this room right here, strip to the waist, then slip on this gown. Everything clear?"
I'm thinking, "Belinda, try decaf. This ain't rocket science." Belinda then skipped away to prepare the chamber of horrors.
With the right side finished, Belinda flipped me (literally) to the left and said, "Hmmmm. Can you stand on your tippy toes and lean in a tad so we can get everything?" Fine, I answered.
I was freezing, bruised, and out of air, so why not use the remaining circulation in my legs and neck to finish me off? My body was in a holding pattern that defied gravity (with my other breast wedged between those two 4 inch pieces of square glass) when I heard and felt a zap! Complete darkness, the power was off!
Belinda said, "Uh-oh, maintenance is working, bet they hit a snag." Then she headed for the door. "Excuse me! You're not leaving me in this vise alone are you?" I shouted. Belinda kept going and said, "Oh, you fussy puppy...the door's wide open so you'll have the emergency hall lights. I'll be right back."
Before I could shout NOOOO! She disappeared. And that's exactly how Bubba and Earl, "maintenance men Extraordinaire" found me...half-naked with part of me dangling from the Jaws of Life and the other part smashed between glass!
After exchanging a polite Hi, how's it going type greeting, Bubba (or possibly Earl) asked, to my utter disbelief, if I knew the power was off.
Trying to disguise my hysteria, I replied with as much calmness as possible, "Uh, yes, I did but thanks anyway."
"OK, you take care now" Bubba replied and waved good-bye as though I'd been standing in the line at the grocery store.
Two hours later, Belinda breezes in wearing a sheepish grin. Making no attempt to suppress her amusement, she said, "Oh I am sooo sorry! The power came back on and I totally forgot about you! And silly me, I went to lunch. Are we upset?"
And that, Your Honor, is exactly how her head ended up between the clamps...."
The judge could hardly contain her laughter as she said "Case Dismissed".
A toothpaste factory had a problem: they sometimes shipped empty boxes, without the tube inside. This was due to the way the production line was set up, and people with experience in designing production lines will tell you how difficult it is to have everything happen with timings so precise that every single unit coming out of it is perfect 100% of the time. Small variations in the environment (which can't be controlled in a cost-effective fashion) mean you must have quality assurance checks smartly distributed across the line so that customers all the way down to the supermarket don't get pissed off and buy another product instead.
Understanding how important that was, the CEO of the toothpaste factory got the top people in the company together and they decided to start a new project, in which they would hire an external engineering company to solve their empty boxes problem, as their engineering department was already too stretched to take on any extra effort.
The project followed the usual process: budget and project sponsor allocated, RFP, third-parties selected, and six months (and $8 million) later they had a fantastic solution, on time, on budget, high quality and everyone in the project had a great time. They solved the problem by using high-tech precision scales that would sound a bell and flash lights whenever a toothpaste box would weigh less than it should. The line would stop, and someone had to walk over and yank the defective box out of it, pressing another button when done to re-start the line.
A while later, the CEO decided to have a look at the ROI of the project:
amazing results! No empty boxes ever shipped out of the factory after the scales were put in place. Very few customer complaints, and they were gaining market share.
"That's some money well spent!" he says, before looking closely at the other statistics in the report.
It turns out, the number of defects picked up by the scales was 0 after three weeks of production use. It should have been picking up at least a dozen a day, so maybe there was something wrong with the report. He filed a bug against it, and after some investigation, the engineers come back saying the report was actually correct. The scales really weren't picking up any defects, because all boxes that got to that point in the conveyor belt had a tube of toothpaste in them.
Puzzled, the CEO traveled down to the factory, and walked up to the part of the line where the precision scales were installed.
A few feet before the scale, there was a $20 desk fan, blowing the empty boxes off of the belt and into a bin.
"Oh, that," said one of the workers. "One of the guys put it there because he was tired of walking over every time the bell rang."
Calling in sick to work makes me feel very uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.
On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth was just too humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a crazy way to explain the bandage on my crown.
The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially the new acquisition was no problem, but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Lisa, call out to me from the kitchen. "Chuck! The garbage disposal is dead. Please come reset it for me. "
"You know where the button is. " I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself! "
"I am scared! " She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"
(Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a second. "
So grudgingly out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a clear statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.
It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I had so unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed, with the full w eight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having no doubt been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing hysterical laughter.
At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue? "