Level Jokes / Recent Jokes

The Yuppette had risen to executive level in the company in no time at all. Hearing rumors about her, the husband confronted his wife and accused her of sleeping with all of the top level managers." Now that's entirely false." she cried. "I took the easy route and slept with anyone who mattered at least twice."

At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down. Reply to everything someone says with, "That's what you think." Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy." Adjust the tint on your monitor so that the brightness level lights up the entire work area. Insist to others that you like it that way. Dont use any punctuation As often as possible, skip rather than walk. Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer. Specify that your drive-through order is "to go." Sing along at the opera. Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you're not in the mood. Call 911 and ask if 911 is for emergencies. Call the psychic hotline and don't say anything. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I Won!", "I Won!" "3rd time this week!!!" more...

LEVEL 1:
It's 11:00 on a weeknight, you've had a few beers. You get up to leave because you have work the next day and one of your friends buys another round. One of your UNEMPLOYED friends. Here at level one you think to yourself, "Oh come on, this is silly, why as long as I get seven hours of sleep (snap fingers), I'm cool.".
LEVEL 2:
It's midnight. You've had a few more beers. You've just spent 20 minutes arguing against artificial turf. You get up to leave again, but at level two, a little devil appears on your shoulder. And now you're thinking, "Hey! I'm out with my friends! What am I working for anyway? These are the good times! Besides, as long as I get five hours sleep (snaps fingers) I'm cool.".
LEVEL 3:
One in the morning. You've abandoned beer for tequila. You've just spent 20 minutes arguing FOR artificial turf. And now you're thinking, "Our waitress is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!" At level three, you love more...

Here's the transcript of my recent communication to Bigelow, inspired by a
sampling of their atrocious "I Love Lemon Herb Tea."
Dear Sirs,
I am writing to complain about the performance of one of your products, to
wit: Bigelow I Love Lemon Herb Tea. Having recently sampled said item in a
culinary context, I am convinced that it is the most unappealing, tasteless, and
unprofessional tea I have ever encountered.
Each teabag is enveloped in a package that reads "A year-round valentine
for everyone who really loves lemon." Well, I happen to be an ardent
enthusiast for that particular flavor, and I can assure you that this alleged
tea tastes less like lemon than most electric home appliances. The only way
this substance could be considered a "year-round valentine" is by taking the
meaning of "valentine" as "a heart," which, if left out in the open for a
year, would be encrusted with more...

If you want to get along, go along.
If you want to make an enemy, do someone a favor.
If your next pot of chili tastes better, it probably is because of something left out, rather than added.
Ignorance is bliss. No wonder I’m so depressed.
Illegitimus non Carborundem: “Don’t let the scum bags grind you down”
In a hierarchical organization, the higher the level, the greater the confusion.
In any calculation, any error which can creep in will do so.
In any hierarchy, each individual rises to his own level of incompetence, and then remains there.
In any household, junk accumulates to the the space available for its storage.
In case of doubt, make it sound convincing.
It takes a big man to admit when he’s wrong, and an even bigger one to keep his mouth shut when he’s right.

Dear Sir,
I am writing in response to your request for additional information for block number 3 of the accident reporting form. I put “poor planning” as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully and I trust the following detail will be sufficient.
I am an amateur radio operator and on the day of the accident, I was working alone on the top section of my new 80 foot tower. When I had completed my work, I discovered that I had, over the course of several trips up the tower, brought up about 300 pounds of tools and spare hardware. Rather than carry the now un-needed tools and material down by hand, I decided to lower the items down in a small barrel by using a pulley, which fortunately was attached to the gin pole at the top of the tower.
Securing the rope at ground level, I went to the top of the tower and loaded the tools and material into the barrel. Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to more...

Festivity Level 1: Your guests are chatting amiably with each other, admiring your Christmas-tree ornaments, singing carols around the upright piano, sipping at their drinks and nibbling hors d'oeuvres. Festivity Level 2: Your guests are talking loudly -- sometimes to each other, and sometimes to nobody at all, rearranging your Christmas-tree ornaments, singing "I Gotta Be Me" around the upright piano, gulping their drinks and wolfing down hors d'oeuvres. Festivity Level 3: Your guests are arguing violently with inanimate objects, singing "I can't get no satisfaction," gulping down other peoples' drinks, wolfing down Christmas tree ornaments and placing hors d'oeuvres in the upright piano to see what happens when the little hammers strike. Festivity Level 4: Your guests, hors d'oeuvres smeared all over their naked bodies are performing a ritual dance around the burning Christmas tree. The piano is missing. You want to keep your party somewhere around level 3, more...