Not Dice

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Einstein said that God does not play dice with the universe, and I believe he’s right.
So for the past thirty years, I’ve been trying to determine exactly what game God does play with the universe.
Bouncing quarters in the Holy Grail?
Perhaps.
It wasn’t easy getting the research grants, but when the government doubted and withdrew support, private sources of funding kept the faith.
After all, what casino wouldn’t want to claim to have exclusive rights to the Divine Game. If they’re willing to build volcanoes, replicate cities, and buy holy grilled cheese sandwiches, why not this as well?

Angels on the radar

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By adjusting the sensitivity, power, angle, and reflectivity of a weather radar, you can detect some interesting things out in the heavens.
If you’re really good, you might even find signs of heaven itself.
Now, I won’t tell you the exact settings you need, but imagine the shock when I twiddled a few dials and came up with a squadron of angels sweeping over the land.
Or maybe they were ghosts. I’m not sure. I’ve still got a lot of research to do.
What Nobel Prize category should this be under? Do you think I have a shot at winning?

Speech

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It’s time for a speech by Jim S. the Folderman…

Satisfied, I stepped back from the podium. The speech had gone well enough. Well, better than could be expected, considering the ugly circumstances which made it necessary.
It was never easy to personally deliver one’s swansong and I’d done the best I could. Now the rest was in other hands.
At the bottom of the steps, my faithful secretary waited.
“Good speech, sir.” She said, “but not good enough…”
Snapping out of my brooding, I looked up and was greeted by the discharge from her gun.
DAMN! I knew it was coming, but I NEVER thought it would be her!

Footie

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Andrew Ian Dodge is into feet? No, he’s into footies… um… what’s a footie?

Sitting here alone & bored
I am footie husband
Sitting here in Peckham
As the wife drools over Beckham
Sitting here going all loony
Watching her crave Roony
I am into rock and roll
Not watching boys with a balls
Hanging out jamming a tune
Wanting England to end their run
Give me back my lover
My footie mad womin
Please let it be over
So’I can git some lovin
Not another nineteen-sixty-six
Would put us in a fix
She maxed the cards out
Now we have nowt
England please lose it
England please lose it
Don’t score no more

Judenhassery

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Red Ken Livingstone is back at it again…

Mayor Ken is in trouble again for judenhassery. This time he suggested Jewish property developing brothers, the Reubens, whom he dislikes, go to Iran. And we all know Iran is a place where they are such big fans of Israel and the Jews they want to wipe them off face of the earth. The Mayor wants land the Reuben brothers own and they refuse to sell for what he wants to pay. Oh yes, and unlike last time where he was recorded on a rubbish tape-recorder, this time he made his anti-Jew comments in front of a press conference.

Chicken

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Why did the chicken cross the road?
I’ve spent my life trying to find the answer. It hasn’t been easy, considering that the government won’t give me a grant to research the issue fully. However, thanks to some generous contributions from the Tyson Corporation and Bo Pilgrim, I think I have the answer once and for all.
No, it’s not just about getting to the other side. It’s more.
I need to hurry up, though. Chickens are being slaughtered across the planet because of bird flu, and there may not be any left by the time my research is complete.

Mad

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Jim S. answers the people who wonder why he is so mad…

Why are you so mad?
For some reason, people ask me that all the time.
It could be the steady diet of gansta rap, heavy metal and punk rock. You see; nothing gets done without music and most if it is from those genres.
Nah.
It could be my childhood and the fact that my mother and I were at each other’s throats most of it. I AM a middle child after all.
Definitely not.
It’s the fact that I’m a thinking man and I can’t withstand the day-to-day barrage of dum-dums. It’s more than a mere mortal can take.

Goodbye Gordon

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Andrew Ian Dodge goes through the latest and last budget from Gordon Brown…

Gordon Brown, our Chancellor, has delivered his 10th and probably final budget to the House of Commons this afternoon. Overall it was nothing radical or cutting edge. There was sticking it to SUV drivers (Chelsea tractors) but not much else. What was most radical in this prudent budget was the handouts to athletes both current and future. These handouts to jocks almost totalled half a billion pounds. Now were the NHS and the state pension system in good shape this might be justified. But wasting taxpayers hard-earned money on over-pampered athletes is just taking the piss (non-steroid laced of course).

The Martyrdom of Saint Timothy

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Everybody agreed that the pizza should have pepperoni and sausage.
Except for Timothy. He insisted on mushrooms.
“How about mushrooms on half?” he asked.
“There’s five of us,” said Joe. “You getting half your way? No way.”
“Why don’t you just get a small mushroom pizza on your own?” asked Susan.
“No,” said Timothy. “I want mushrooms on half.”
That was the last straw.
Susan and Joe pinned Timothy’s arms to the table while Irwin poured hot lead into Timothy’s mouth.
Word of Timothy’s martyrdom spread throughout campus. He eventually became the Patron Saint Of Mushrooms.
Still, what a dumbass.

Iceberg

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Ah, yes. The power of love. Jim S. floats around with it for a bit…

The iceberg came into view around the box. After floating helplessly in the icy water for the last two hours, he’d finally floated around the box to view the gigantic chunk of rock and ice. Due to his numerous injuries, he’d been unable to propel himself around the supply box. Only the icy water that numbed him had kept him from losing consciousness from the pain.
Incredibly, he recognized the beauty of the moment. Sure, only two hours ago, he’d been warm in his bed with his wife.
As he floated over, he came face-to-face with his wife’s decapitated body.