-
Welcome to the new B.I.R.D. Forum. Please be sure to read the "New Member / New Registered ? Please Read" thread in the Coffee Shop. This contains some important information. To become a full member ( £5.90 a year ) simply click on your user name near the top on the right I hope you enjoy the new site ................ Jaws ( John )
Daily Smile thread
- Thread starter Jaws
- Start date
Due to a fall in recruitment the Army decided to recruit from a tribe of cannibals.
The CO welcomed them to the unit, "Lovely to have you chaps here with us, just do me a favour and don't eat anyone"
The weeks went by until one day the CO popped in to the barracks to talk to the chief ,"Um.... just checking but we seem to be missing a corporal, you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"
The chief cannibal said that he didn't.
After the CO left the chief got all the other cannibals together, "Right who ate the Corporal? Come on I know you gutty bastards did it!!!"
A couple of hands are raised guiltily at the rear of the group.
"You f*cking halfwits...!!", exploded the chief, "For months we have been getting away with eating officers and no one's noticed, but you had to go and spoil it by eating someone USEFUL!!!!!!"
The CO welcomed them to the unit, "Lovely to have you chaps here with us, just do me a favour and don't eat anyone"
The weeks went by until one day the CO popped in to the barracks to talk to the chief ,"Um.... just checking but we seem to be missing a corporal, you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"
The chief cannibal said that he didn't.
After the CO left the chief got all the other cannibals together, "Right who ate the Corporal? Come on I know you gutty bastards did it!!!"
A couple of hands are raised guiltily at the rear of the group.
"You f*cking halfwits...!!", exploded the chief, "For months we have been getting away with eating officers and no one's noticed, but you had to go and spoil it by eating someone USEFUL!!!!!!"
A vampire walks into a bar, "A pint of blood landlord" he says.
The barman gives him his order.
A second vampire walks into the bar, "A pint of your finest blood please" he says.
Again, the barman pours his order.
A third vampire walks into the bar and says, "A mug of hot water please barman".
The barman looks puzzled and asks, "What the f*** do you want hot water for...?"
"I found a used tampon and I'm making tea".
The barman gives him his order.
A second vampire walks into the bar, "A pint of your finest blood please" he says.
Again, the barman pours his order.
A third vampire walks into the bar and says, "A mug of hot water please barman".
The barman looks puzzled and asks, "What the f*** do you want hot water for...?"
"I found a used tampon and I'm making tea".
A guy has spent five years travelling all around the world making a documentary on Native dances. At the end of this time, he has every single native dance of every indigenous culture in the world on film. He winds up in Australia, in Alice Springs, so he pops into a pub for a well earned beer.
He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project.
The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the "Dreamtime Butcher Dance."
The guy's a bit confused and says, "Butcher Dance? What's that?"
"What? You haven't seen the Butcher Dance?"
"No, I've never heard of it."
"Oh mate. You crazy. How you say you film every native dance if you no see Butcher Dance?"
"Umm. I got a corroboree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?"
"No no, not corroboree. Butcher Dance much more important than corroboree."
"Oh, well how can I see this Butcher Dance then?"
"Mate, Butcher Dance right out bush. Many days travel to go see Butcher Dance."
"Look, I've been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance."
"OK, mate. You drive north along highway towards Darwin. After you drive 197 miles, you see dirt track veer off to left.
Follow dirt track for 126 miles 'til you see big huge dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever see. Here you gotta leave the car, because it's a bit rough for driving. You strike out due west into setting sun. You walk 3 days 'til you hit creek. Follow this creek to Northwest. After 2 days you find where creek flows out of rocky mountains. Much too difficult to cross mountains here though. You now head south for half day 'til you see pass through mountains. Pass very difficult and very dangerous. Take 2, maybe 3 days to get through rocky pass. When through, head northwest for 4 days 'til reach big huge rock - 20 ft high and shaped like man's head. From rock, walk due west for 2 days and you find village. Here you see the Butcher Dance from the Dreamtime."
So the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he's forced to crawl along at a snails pace and so he doesn't reach the tree until dusk and he's forced to set up camp for the night.
He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he's excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he had never heard mention of before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until they reach the rocky mountains. The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills - nothing will prevent him from completing his life's dream.
The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as their guide said and at times they almost despair of getting their bulky equipment through.
But after three and a half days of back breaking effort they finally force their way clear and continue their long trek. When they reach the huge rock, four days later, their water is running low and their feet are covered with blisters. Yet they steel themselves and head out on the last leg of their journey.
Two days later they stagger into the village where the natives feed them and give them fresh water. They begin to feel like new men. Once he's recovered enough, the guy goes before the village chief and tells him that he has come to film there Butcher Dance.
"Oh mate. Very bad you come today. Butcher Dance last night. You too late. You miss dance."
"Well, when do you hold the next dance?"
"Not 'til next year."
"Well, I've come all this way. Couldn't you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?"
"No, no, no! Butcher Dance is very spiritual. Only hold once a year. If hold more, gods get very angry and destroy village! You want see Butcher Dance you come back next year." The guy is devastated, but he has no other option but to head back to civilisation and back home.
The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week in the village before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it. However, right from the start things go wrong.
Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few miles, finally forcing them to abandon their vehicles and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. They reach the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain they are struck by a fierce storm that rages for several days, during which they are forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements.
Then, before they have travelled a mile out from the mountains, one of the crew sprains her ankle badly which slows down the rest of their journey enormously, to the rock and then the village. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long they have been travelling, they stagger into the village at about 12:00 noon.
"The Butcher Dance!" gasps the guy. "Please don't tell me I'm too late!"
The chief recognises him and says, "No, white fella. Butcher Dance performed tonight. You come just in time."
Relieved beyond measure, the crew spends the rest of the afternoon setting up their equipment - preparing to capture the night's ritual on celluloid as dusk falls, the participants start to cover their bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in all manner of bird's feathers and animal skins. Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the people form a circle around a huge roaring fire.
A deathly hush descends over performers and spectators alike as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and
begins to chant. Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man, figures the guy and he whispers to the chief, "What's he doing?"
"Hush," whispers the chief. "You are the first white man ever to see most sacred of our rituals. Must remain silent. Holy man, he asks that the spirits of the dreamtime watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year."
The chanting of the Holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he moves himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of drums booms out across the land and the men begin to sway to the stirring rhythm.
The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realises beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by mankind in 60,000 years.
The chief strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing, "You butch yer right arm in. You butch yer right arm out. You butch yer right arm in and you shake it all about."
He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project.
The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the "Dreamtime Butcher Dance."
The guy's a bit confused and says, "Butcher Dance? What's that?"
"What? You haven't seen the Butcher Dance?"
"No, I've never heard of it."
"Oh mate. You crazy. How you say you film every native dance if you no see Butcher Dance?"
"Umm. I got a corroboree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?"
"No no, not corroboree. Butcher Dance much more important than corroboree."
"Oh, well how can I see this Butcher Dance then?"
"Mate, Butcher Dance right out bush. Many days travel to go see Butcher Dance."
"Look, I've been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance."
"OK, mate. You drive north along highway towards Darwin. After you drive 197 miles, you see dirt track veer off to left.
Follow dirt track for 126 miles 'til you see big huge dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever see. Here you gotta leave the car, because it's a bit rough for driving. You strike out due west into setting sun. You walk 3 days 'til you hit creek. Follow this creek to Northwest. After 2 days you find where creek flows out of rocky mountains. Much too difficult to cross mountains here though. You now head south for half day 'til you see pass through mountains. Pass very difficult and very dangerous. Take 2, maybe 3 days to get through rocky pass. When through, head northwest for 4 days 'til reach big huge rock - 20 ft high and shaped like man's head. From rock, walk due west for 2 days and you find village. Here you see the Butcher Dance from the Dreamtime."
So the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he's forced to crawl along at a snails pace and so he doesn't reach the tree until dusk and he's forced to set up camp for the night.
He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he's excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he had never heard mention of before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until they reach the rocky mountains. The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills - nothing will prevent him from completing his life's dream.
The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as their guide said and at times they almost despair of getting their bulky equipment through.
But after three and a half days of back breaking effort they finally force their way clear and continue their long trek. When they reach the huge rock, four days later, their water is running low and their feet are covered with blisters. Yet they steel themselves and head out on the last leg of their journey.
Two days later they stagger into the village where the natives feed them and give them fresh water. They begin to feel like new men. Once he's recovered enough, the guy goes before the village chief and tells him that he has come to film there Butcher Dance.
"Oh mate. Very bad you come today. Butcher Dance last night. You too late. You miss dance."
"Well, when do you hold the next dance?"
"Not 'til next year."
"Well, I've come all this way. Couldn't you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?"
"No, no, no! Butcher Dance is very spiritual. Only hold once a year. If hold more, gods get very angry and destroy village! You want see Butcher Dance you come back next year." The guy is devastated, but he has no other option but to head back to civilisation and back home.
The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week in the village before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it. However, right from the start things go wrong.
Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few miles, finally forcing them to abandon their vehicles and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. They reach the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain they are struck by a fierce storm that rages for several days, during which they are forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements.
Then, before they have travelled a mile out from the mountains, one of the crew sprains her ankle badly which slows down the rest of their journey enormously, to the rock and then the village. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long they have been travelling, they stagger into the village at about 12:00 noon.
"The Butcher Dance!" gasps the guy. "Please don't tell me I'm too late!"
The chief recognises him and says, "No, white fella. Butcher Dance performed tonight. You come just in time."
Relieved beyond measure, the crew spends the rest of the afternoon setting up their equipment - preparing to capture the night's ritual on celluloid as dusk falls, the participants start to cover their bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in all manner of bird's feathers and animal skins. Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the people form a circle around a huge roaring fire.
A deathly hush descends over performers and spectators alike as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and
begins to chant. Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man, figures the guy and he whispers to the chief, "What's he doing?"
"Hush," whispers the chief. "You are the first white man ever to see most sacred of our rituals. Must remain silent. Holy man, he asks that the spirits of the dreamtime watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year."
The chanting of the Holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he moves himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of drums booms out across the land and the men begin to sway to the stirring rhythm.
The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realises beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by mankind in 60,000 years.
The chief strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing, "You butch yer right arm in. You butch yer right arm out. You butch yer right arm in and you shake it all about."
