You guys talk to your subconscious too much.
I am just „what is it, what was it called? Oh a mask. Right. Should have seen that.“ And all of that was totally conscious 
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IT lingo and COVID masks lingo, I have no hope of ever getting this one
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Inspired by the conversation about house selling in the UK over in the How are you thread:
One day a Civil Engineer died and went to heaven, and when he reached Saint Peter’s door, he joined the queue, until he reached St. Peter’s desk.
“Hello, what is your name?”
“Gregg Smith”
“Hmmm… Gregg, Gregg…” said Saint Peter, looking through his paperwork" Gregg Smith… I cannot find you in the list. What is your profession?"
“Civil engineer, sir”
“Hmmm…” said Saint Peter, stroking his long beard while still perusing his list “That cannot be, all civil engineers go to heaven, let me look again”
The engineer waited while Saint Peter looked through the list again, and after a while, Saint Peter looked at him perplexed: “Well, you don’t seem to be on the list, so I am afraid you are going to have to go to Hell”
Gregg, full of despair, left the queue, and to Hell he went.
A few weeks later, God came by to Saint Peter’s door: “Hey Peter”
“Yes?”
“We have a guy missing here”
“Do we? Nobody has come out”
“No, no, he never made it in. A civil engineer”
“Oh!” said Saint Peter " I remember. Something Smith, yes. He wasn’t in the list, so I sent him downstairs to Lucifer"
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?. Let’s go straight away, sort this out.”
So down to Hell they rush, and when they reached the door, instead of the heat from the Hellfire pits and the screams of the damned, they felt a breeze of cold air and some background jazz music could be heard.
“Wait a minute, what’s going on here!?” screamed God “LUCIFER! What have you done!?”"
The devil himself appeared out of thin air in front of the heavenly pair, wearing sunglasses, a hawaiian shirt and some shorts and sandals.
“Heeeey, how are you, long time no see, Dad” said Lucifer in a chilled out tone.
“What is going on here? Why is it so fresh, where are the heat and the flames?”
“Ohhhh! I know, right? Isn’t it cool?? That guy you sent us the other day, Gregg, the engineer. He’s good as gold. Installed air-con, mechanized all the systems, installed the music, he’s really made a great change to the place…”
“No way!” said God, looking furiously at St. Peter. “This is completely out of order, you have to return us the guy”
“What?? No way. he is still planning some changes to my office, a massage chair, cable TV, super fast internet connection, you cannot take him back. Finders, keepers”
“Of course I can take him back, I am God Almighty, give him to us”
“No way”
“Yes way”
“I refuse”
“What, do you want me to sue? I will get him back, even if I have to go to court” said God.
“To court, right? With what lawyers???”
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Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Spell.
Spell who?
W. H. O.
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A classic…
“I don’t care for country music myself, but I don’t mean to denigrate those who do love it. And for all you country music lovers out there, denigrate means ‘put down’.”
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Song titles with contrived narratives reminded me that I wrote a couple of tremendously dumb stories for the original “What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question?” thread, which got trashed along with the rest of the official SUSD forums, but which I still have local copies of. So with apologies to those who’ve read them before, I’m going to re-post them here…
But firstly, also from the original thread but in a rather more-concise format, the following is some of my best/worst work. I regret nothing! / I am full of regret…
How do cows integrate?
Using cowculus.
How do owls solve linear equations?
With owlgebra.
How do giraffes plot equations?
They draw them on giraffe paper.
Why don’t polecats need parentheses?
They use poleish notation.
Why do gnus have such different maths skills?
They were taught the gnu mathematics.
What’s the most dangerous side of a triangle?
The hippopotenuse.
How do moles speed up repetitive addition?
Moletiplication.
What do you call a quadrilateral sheep?
A paralleloram.
How does an ibex describe compounding growth?
It uses the ibexponential function.
How do cats recognise right angles?
They’re purrpendicular.
Why do ants only use whole numbers?
Because they prefer antegers.
How do dolphins predict where all the other dolphins will be?
Using podability theory.
How do chickens represent sets?
With a henn diagram.
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The other day I was on my way home when an airedale terrier wearing a crown wandered up to me. She looked pretty friendly so I stopped to pat her, and before I knew what was happening she put her front legs up and licked my face. I grimaced and wiped my face, and went on my way. I’d barely gone half a block when I saw a poodle wearing a crown. I was a bit hesitant after the airedale, but I couldn’t resist patting the poodle too, until it also reared up and licked my face. Wiping away the dog drool, I turned to go on my way, only to see two springer spaniels and a ginger tabby, all wearing crowns. Before I knew it the cat was winding around my legs, and as I tried to extricate myself the spaniels both jumped up at me, licking my face. I fended them off and quickly hurried down a side-road alongside a wall, until a bearded collie wearing a crown stepped into view at the intersection ahead of me. I stopped and glanced behind, and saw the spaniels waiting. All of a sudden there was a flash of ginger from the wall, and the tabby was on me, licking my face. I stumbled against a tree, and two more cats dropped on top of me and followed suit, both of them wearing crowns. Suddenly the collie barrelled into me, and I fell to the ground, whereupon all four animals lunged at my head, licking my face. In a panic I got to my feet and started running, but as I reached the intersection a giant schnauzer wearing a crown bowled me off my feet and began licking me. As I tried to fend it off, a scottish terrier, an english sheepdog, a persian, a manx, and a russian blue piled in, all wearing crowns, and all licking my face. I curled into a ball and tried to cover up as best as I could, but the gathering of animals grew and grew, and I was assailed by dog and cat drool from every angle, until I felt that I must be completely covered in the stuff. I don’t know how long it lasted but, finally, I sensed that the animals were beginning to disperse. After a minute I tentatively opened my eyes and looked around, to see the last of the animals with their crowns disappearing into the side streets. Climbing slowly to my feet, I stumbled along the final block to my house. As I stepped through the front door my wife looked up and exclaimed with a gasp “Why, you’re absolutely drenched!” “Yes”, I replied – “it’s reigning cats and dogs out there.”
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After the big Tortoise vs Hare race, the victorious tortoise was the toast of the town. All the sports media wanted to interview the tortoise about the big upset win, while the formerly-confident yet defeated hare slipped out of the public eye, unnoticed. The unlikely underdog success was exactly the feel-good story the public had been hungry for, and interview requests and media attention continued to flow in from far and wide until the tortoise realised it had outgrown the sleepy village of Morrowmarsh and decided to move to the Big City, riding the wave of fame and fortune towards a whole new life. Invited onto all the late night talk shows, the tortoise charmed the audiences and hosts alike with stories of growing up in ‘Morrow’, and enthralled them with the first-hand recounting of the famous race. Soon the tortoise was to be seen at the trendiest clubs, sporting expensive outfits and accessories provided by eager sponsors. Without exception the tortoise topped the “best dressed” and “most fashionable” lists in all the magazines, and cameo appearances (“as themselves”) followed, firstly in music videos and then in one of the biggest blockbuster films of the summer. By now a bona fide global celebrity, the tortoise was living a life of ever-increasing extravagance – which inevitably became one of undeniable excess. Glamorous parties turned into alcohol and substance abuse. Fashionable magazine covers turned into tabloid newspaper covers. The sponsors quickly distanced themselves, and the tortoise was forced to down-size to pay off debts. Then, with things already looking grim, came the big scandal. “Tortoise Win A Sham!” cried the headlines; “Drug Doctor Confesses Conspiracy to Hobble Hare!”. The article revealed how the doctor, sympathetic towards the then-ridiculed tortoise, had agreed to help teach the arrogant hare a lesson, supplying the tortoise with sleeping pills with which to spike the hare’s drink, ensuring that the latter would not finish the race before succumbing to a fateful slumber by the side of the road, thus allowing the slower competitor to reach the finish line first. The doctor had remained silent until, appalled at how the tortoise had abused its fame and fortune, they’d felt compelled to come forward and reveal ‘the truth’. A media frenzy ensued and, despite it being the doctor’s word against the tortoise’s, the allegations proved ruinous for the the once-popular tortoise, with mounting legal costs threatening total bankruptcy. The hare meanwhile, having lived a quiet life back in Morrowmarsh ever since its disgrace, suddenly found itself accosted by reporters and thrust into the limelight; and in all the furore, the clamouring public wanted to know just one thing – when would the rematch take place? Seeing the dollar signs before their eyes, promoters wasted no time in making the arrangements, with enormous prize-money promised even to the loser if the race were to take place. The hare, looking in tremendous physical condition, issued a public challenge to “Face me back at Morrow’!” Facing destitution otherwise, the tortoise was forced to accept and the race was agreed to take place one month hence. “Tortoise vs Hare 2!” screamed the newspaper headlines. “Morrowmarsh to host the year’s most anticipated contest.” The tortoise knew the hare was in better shape, but refused to just give up, instead embarking upon a punishing fitness regime – the hare would have a literal run for its money whether it was expecting it or not. From that moment onward, every day started before dawn – stretching and limbering up, before the arrival of the tortoise’s personal trainer – and finished after dark when the tortoise collapsed into bed, exhausted. The first and last thing the tortoise saw each day was a “Tortoise/Hare 2” poster for motivation. Not a moment was wasted; every day the tortoise was eating right, trimming fat, and building speed and endurance, until it was hard to believe that it was the same sorry creature from the tabloid photos. So focused were the two of them on daily physical training that by the end of the month both the tortoise and trainer had lost track of the days themselves; so as the tortoise awoke that morning and looked at the poster, it was a nasty shock to suddenly notice the date and realise that the race was that very same afternoon! To be a no-show would be disastrous for the tortoise; but more than that, the tortoise had started to believe that winning the race was possible. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Barely pausing, the tortoise dashed from the building and hailed a taxi to the airport. When the trainer arrived half an hour later, they found only a hastily-scrawled note which read: ‘Hare 2’ Day – gone to Morrow’.
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A client phoned the practice today asking if anyone could help with his sick giraffe. I considered it, but didn’t want to stick my neck out.
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Been getting into sketching recently, so I asked my friend if I could do a portrait of her. She said no. I asked her why but she simply refused to be drawn.
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My daughter nearly went to a school that was just on the television, all transmitted via radio waves! It looked great, but the reception wasn’t very good.
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“Been getting into drawing recently, and decided that I wanted to draw a picture of my friends deep in discussion. Unfortunately, one of my friends said no, and when I asked her why… well, she outright refused to be drawn into a conversation.”
(I like the joke, though! Clever!)
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A physicist froze herself to -273°C.
People were concerned at first, but her colleagues confirmed that she was 0K.
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(Inspired by the Herbalist’s Primer thread.)
My eyelids have gotten really hairy, recently. Must have been due to some strange herb I ate. Despite frequent shaving, the eyelid-hair grew longer and more tangled, at a truly alarming rate! The hospital staff couldn’t help, they just diagnosed it as IHES, idiopathic hirsute eyelid syndrome, and sent me home. In sheer desperation, I went to a dodgy back-alley doctor, who turned out to be a dodgy back-alley witch doctor. Luckily, she knew a cure, but before the witch shared the old family recipe, she first swore me to secrecy. Of course, the problem had only kept getting worse and worse, so I could honestly tell her that my lids were sealed.
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Beachcombing can be a dangerous hobby. If you trip and hit your head on a large lump of amber, you might end up comber-tose.
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Skeletor was lounging when he saw Beast Man come in the room.
- ‘Hey, Beast Man, do you know what’s the difference between toilet paper and a curtain?’
- ‘Ehmmmm… no, what is it?’
- ‘So it was YOU, motherf…!!!’
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Just found out that scientists have found a way to weigh rainbows - they discovered that they’re pretty light
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They only weigh a refraction of what you’d expect.
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Science teacher: ‘And if you want to know the colours of the rainbow, just remember: “Richard of York Gave Battle in Vain”.’ 
Student: ‘What a load of bollocks! Can’t you people make up your minds? Half an hour ago, the history teacher told us that Richard of York gave battle in Wakefield.’
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My therapist says I have an addiction to vengeance.
… we’ll see about that…
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