Things to do on a plane/ Things to annoy people
1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on and point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.
2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don’t Disguise Your Voice.
3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with that.
4. Put Your waste paper bin On Your Desk And Label It “In.”
5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.
6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Cheques, Write “For Smuggling Diamonds”
7. Finish All Your sentences with “In Accordance With The Prophecy.”
8. Don t use any punctuation
9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.
10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.
11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is “To Go.”
12. Sing Along At The Opera.
13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don’t Rhyme
14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play tropical Sounds All Day.
15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can’t Attend Their Party Because You’re Not In The Mood.
16. Have Your Co-workers Address You By Your Wrestling Name, Rock Bottom.
17. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream “I Won!, I Won!”
18. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot, Yelling “Run For Your Lives, They’re Loose!!”
19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. “Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go.”
Find common interests. Ask, “Are you in the Witness Protection Program too?”
Tell your fellow passenger that you just heard the bathrooms were out-of-order. Then pause and say, “Did you know that peanuts are a natural diuretic?” Smile.
Call the stewardess “nurse”.
Sport a kamikaze helmet and goggles. Speak in a low voice into a hand held tape recorder: “Today’s date, December 7th, 1941. I was not able to command my own personal plane but success shall still be ours….”
Yell out, “John Lithgow is on the wing!”
Speak in Spelling Bee-eese: “Hello. H-e-l-l-o. Hello. Nice weather we’re having isn’t it? Weather. W-e-a-t-h-e-r. Weather.”
Start singing the Shari Lewis theme, “This is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on my friends, some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they’ll continue singing it forever just because, this is the song that never ends….” Suddenly realize that you can never stop singing. Become very panicky. Scrawl “Help me” on a piece of paper and hand it to the person sitting next to you. Claw at your throat and thrash around in the seat. Never stop singing.
Continually offer to share your “Beano”.
Decorate. Bring a scatter rug and tiny draperies. Hang a “Home Sweet Home” plaque on the back of the seat in front of you. Invite your fellow passengers in for tea.
Suddenly remember that you left your iron on. Ask if the pilot would mind going back so you can check.
Bring your computer keyboard without a monitor. Place it on your lap. Stare into the palm of your hand. Wait. Push the return key a few times. Yell out “Yes! Alright! I told them I didn’t need a laptop!” Plug the headphones into your nostril and play DOOM.
Bring a duffel bag packed with pipe cleaners, Styrofoam balls, construction paper, etc. Organize a “Kraft Korner”. Make a craft likeness of the person sitting next to you. Give yourself an “F”.
Say, “Did you know every time a plane crashes, an angel gets its wings?” Then sigh and stare dreamily into the clouds.
Snap Polaroids of him or her. Pull out an empty photo album and arrange the pictures inside it. Tuck the album under your jacket and say, “You know, in some cultures they believe that when you take a person’s photograph…you own their soul…,” while smiling maniacally.
Bring a cellular phone. Call God and Say, “The reception is much clearer up here….”
Speak in an incredibly fake Australian accent. Call the person “mate”. Tell them you’re not used to seeing the sky, since you are from “Down Under”. Keep repeating quotes from “Crocodile Dundee,” such as “That’s not a knife! That’s a knife!”, until they are forced to yell at you that you are not Australian. Call them prejudiced.
Bring a “Word-a-Day” calendar on board with you. Read every single word aloud and attempt to use it in a sentence. Use them all incorrectly. “My, you have a very irate home,’ she said governessly.”
Lean back in your seat, fold your arms behind your head and exclaim, “Thank God for auto-pilot, eh?”
10 Rules For Dating My Daughter
Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Rule Four:
I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilising a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”
Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka – zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding, middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.
Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car – there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.