After an hour, the following conversation took place:

First guy: You have no idea what I had to do to be able to come out fishing this weekend. I had to promise my wife that I would paint every room in the house next weekend.’

Second guy: That is nothing, I had to promise my wife that I would build her a new deck for the pool.’

Third guy: Man , you both have it easy! I had to promise my wife that I would remodel the kitchen for her.’

They continue to fish. When they realized that the fourth guy has not said a word, they asked him, “You haven’t said anything about what you had to do to be able to come fishing this weekend. What’s the deal?”

Fourth guy: I just set my alarm for 5:30 am. When it went off, I shut off my alarm, gave the wife a slap on her butt and said:
‘Fishing or Sex?’

And she said:…………….. ‘Wear sun-block.’

The first one, a redhead, is strapped in the electric chair, and is asked if she has any last words.

She says, “I am from Canisius College and believe in the almighty power of God to intervene on the behalf of the innocent.” They throw the switch and nothing happens. They all immediately prostrate themselves; beg for her forgiveness, and release her.

The second one, a brunette, is strapped in and gives her last words, “I am from the UB School of Law and I believe in the power of justice to intervene on the part of the innocent.”

They throw the switch and again, nothing happens. Again, they all immediately prostrate themselves; beg for her forgiveness, and release her.

The last one, a blonde, is strapped in and says, “Well, I’m from Buff State and just graduated with a degree in Electrical Engineering, and I’ll tell you right now, you ain’t gonna electrocute nobody if you don’t plug this thing in.”

Notes: From An Inexperienced Chili Taster Named FRANK, who was visiting Texas from West Seneca, New York:

Recently Frank was honored to be selected as an outstanding Famous celebrity in Texas, to be a judge at a chili cook-off, mainly because no one else wanted to do it. Also the original person called in sick at the last moment, and Frank happened to be standing there at the judge’s table asking directions to the beer wagon when the call came. He was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy, and besides they told him that he could have free beer during the tasting, so Frank accepted.

Here are the scorecards from the event:

Chili # 1: Mike’s Maniac Mobster Monster Chili

JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.

JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

FRANK: Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. Hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy.

Chili # 2: Arthur’s Afterburner Chili

JUDGE ONE: Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.

JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

FRANK: Keep this out of reach of children! I’m not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to walkie-talkie in 3 extra beers when they saw the look on my face.

Chili # 3: Fred’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.

JUDGE TWO: A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.

FRANK: Call the EPA, I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Barmaid pounded me on the back; now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting shit-faced.

Chili # 4: Bubba’s Black Magic

JUDGE ONE: Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.

FRANK: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Sally, the bar maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills; that 300 lb. bitch is starting to look HOT, just like this nuclear-waste I’m eating.

Chili # 5: Linda’s Legal Lip Remover

JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

FRANK: My ears are ringing, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!

Chili # 6: Vera’s Very Vegetarian Variety

JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.

JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

FRANK: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone!

Chili # 7: Susan’s Screaming Sensation Chili

JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge Number 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.

FRANK: You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a damn thing. I’ve lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit to match my damn shirt. At least during the autopsy they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing, it’s too painful. Screw it, I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili # 8: Helen’s Mount Saint Chili

JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili, safe for all, not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.

JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a good, balanced chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge Number 3 passed out, fell and pulled the chili pot on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor Yankee.

FRANK: ————–(editor’s note: Judge #3 was unable To report)

Clarence Barbie: This princess Barbie is sold only at the Galleria Mall. She comes with an assortment of Coach Handbags, a Lexus SUV, a long-haired foreign dog named Courvoisier and a cookie cutter $1,000,000.00 McMansion. Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift. Workaholic Ken sold separately.

Tonawanda Barbie: This modern day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Windstar Minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full time occupation or secondary education. Traffic jamming cell phone sold separately.

Niagara Street Barbie: This recently paroled Barbie is available after dark and must be paid for in cash, preferably small, untraceable bills.

East Aurora Barbie: This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, American Express card and Roycroft membership. Also available for this set is Artistic Ken, who has a potter’s wheel and no visible means of support.

South Buffalo Barbie: This pale model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too small, a Hooters t-shirt and a shamrock tattoo. She has a six-pack of Bud light and a Twisted Sister CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken’s butt when she is drunk. Purchase her pickup truck separately and get a Buffalo Sabres bumper sticker absolutely free.

Amherst Barbie: This collagen injected, rhino plastic Barbie wears a leopard print outfit and drinks cosmopolitans while entertaining friends. Percocet prescription available.

Lackawanna Barbie: This chain-smoking, brassy-haired Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel from the time she chased beer-gutted Ken out of another Barbie’s house. Her ensemble includes low-rise acid washed jeans, fake fingernails, and a see through halter-top. Cheektowaga version comes with a mobile home and pink flamingo.

Lexington Co-op Barbie: This doll is made of actual tofu. She has multi-colored dreadlocks, unshaved armpits, no makeup and multiple piercings. Purchase Barbie’s new Co-op blueprints and get a free demolition permit for the pre-WWI building of your choice.

BMHA Barbie: This Barbie comes with a stroller and infant doll. Ken is available, but difficult to find since the addition of the infant.

Broadway/Fillmore Barbie: This model comes with a choir robes, a collection plate, a bible, and is automated. Pull the string and she raises her right hand and praises the lord. Available in four styles: Baptist, Jehovah’s Witness, African-Methodist- Episcopal, and (this week’s special) Urban Storefront.

Elmwood Barbie/Ken: This versatile doll can be easily converted from Barbie to Ken by simply adding or subtracting the multiple “snap-on” parts. Comes with your choice of CD: Ani DiFranco or Broadway’s Greatest Hits.

Due to the popularity of the Survivor show, Buffalo is planning to do its own version, titled Survivor, Buffalo Style.

The contestants will start at the airport and must plot a route through every councilmanic district in Buffalo, including North Buffalo, South Buffalo, the East Side, the West Side, Black Rock/Riverside, the Delaware district, and downtown.

Each will drive a pink, foreign-made 2-door coupe with Miami plates and will have the following bumper stickers affixed to their vehicles:

• “Amherst: We got UB. Get over it.”

• “The Anchor Bar Sucks”

• “O.J. Was Guilty”

• “What is the Virgin Mary doing under that bathtub?”

• “Twin Span Now”

• “I [heart] the Control Board”

• “Masiello in 2005″

• “Fifty percent of downtown for parking is not enough”

• “Go Bills, and take the Sabres with you”

The first one to make it back to the airport alive wins.

This kid from Kaisertown turns 16 and goes to to the NY State Department of Motor Vehicles apply for a permit. He is told he has to take an eye test. The examiner shows him a card with the letters:

C Z J W I X N O S T A C Z

“Can you read this?” the examiner asks.

“Read it?” the young man replies, “He’s my uncle.”

1. Don’t order a steak at a Waffle House.  They serve breakfast 24 hours a day.  Let them cook something they know.

2. Don’t laugh at folk’s names.  Merleen, Bodie, Luther Ray, Tammy, Mari Beth, Marva, Edna Earl and Inez have been known to whip a man’s ass for less than that.

3. Don’t order a bottle of pop or a can of soda; this can lead to a beating.  Down here it’s called Coke, even if you want a Pepsi, Sprite or Dr. Pepper.  Got it?

4. Southern women don’t fancy the smart mouth Yankees.  Just remember, they all have Big brothers and Bigger daddies.

5.  Don’t show allegiances to any other school football team but the Longhorns.  All the others are a bunch of candy asses who play Wyoming every other week.

6. Don’t call us a bunch of hillbillies.  Most of us are better educated than you and a whole lot nicer to boot! We just talk that way to piss you off.

7. Yes, we know the humidity is high; just quit your bitching, spend your money and go home.

8. No, the state symbol of Texas is not the orange and white highway barrel. This road construction is ticking us off too.

9. Don’t go to the Cracker Barrel and substitute toast for the biscuits.  If you do this, everyone will know that you’re from Nebraska. Just eat the biscuits like GOD meant for you to do.  And do not order poached eggs. No one from the south eats eggs poached.

10. Don’t try to talk with a southern accent if you don’t have one or use regional idioms you can’t possibly understand.  Nothing makes us madder.

11. Don’t be telling everybody how much better it was back home. We’re not going to change to make you happy.  So if you don’t like it here, Delta is ready when you are.

12. Our food isn’t overcooked; yours is undercooked.

13. Down here, “Kiss my ass” is a perfectly acceptable way to close an argument.  You can’t get more closure than that!

14. Flirting is a southern tradition.  It doesn’t mean you’re going home with someone later.  It doesn’t mean the person flirting with you is even interested.  It’s all just practice.

15. Take your hat off when you say the words “Tom Landry”.

The Torontonian looks at him and says, “What are you doing?! That was a perfectly good bottle of whiskey!” The Houstonite says, “In Texas, there’s plenty of whiskey and bottles are cheap.”

A while later, not wanting to be outdone, the Torontonian pulls out a bottle of champagne, takes a few sips, throws the bottle in the air, pulls out his gun and shoots it.

The guy from Buffalo can’t believe this and says, “What did you do that for? That was an expensive bottle of champagne!” The Torontonian says, “In Canada, there’s plenty of champagne and bottles are cheap.”

So a while later the Buffalonian pulls out a bottle of beer. He opens it, takes a sip, takes another sip, and then chugs the rest. He then puts the bottle back in his saddlebag, pulls out his gun, turns around and shoots the Canadian. The Texan, shocked, says, “Why did you do that?”

The Buffalonian says, “Well, in Buffalo, we have plenty of Canadians, but bottles are worth a nickel.”

Excerpts Taken From the Diary of a Texan Who Moved to Western New York

December 8: 6:00 PM. It started to snow. The first snow of the season and the wife and I took our cocktails and sat for hours by the window watching the huge soft flakes drift down from heaven. It looked like a Grandma Moses Print. So romantic we felt like newlyweds again. I’m so glad we moved here.  I love the snow!

December 9: We woke to a beautiful blanket of crystal white snow covering every inch of the landscape. What a fantastic sight! Can there be a more lovely place in the Whole World? Moving here was the best idea I’ve ever had. Shoveled for the first time in years and felt like a boy again. I did both our driveway and the sidewalks. This afternoon the snow plow came along and covered up the sidewalks and closed in the driveway, so I got to shovel again. What a perfect life.

December 12: The sun has melted all our lovely snow. Such a disappointment. My neighbor tells me not to worry, we’ll definitely have a white Christmas. No snow on Christmas would be awful! Bob says we’ll have so much snow by the end of winter, that I’ll never want to see snow again. I don’t think that’s possible. Bob is such a nice man. I’m glad he’s our neighbor.

December 14: Snow, lovely snow! 8″ last night. The temperature dropped to -20. The cold makes everything sparkle so. The wind took my breath away, but I warmed up by shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. This is the life! The snowplow came back this afternoon and buried everything again. I didn’t realize I would have to do quite this much shoveling, but I’ll certainly get back in shape this way. I wish I wouldn’t huff and puff so much.

December 15: 20 inches forecast. Sold my van and bought a 4×4 Blazer. Bought snow tires for the wife’s car and 2 extra shovels. Stocked the freezer. The wife wants a wood stove in case the electricity goes out. I think that’s silly. We aren’t in Alaska, after all.

December 16: Ice storm this morning. Fell on my ass on the ice in the driveway putting down salt. Hurt like hell. The wife laughed for an hour, which I think was very cruel.

December 17: Still way below freezing. Roads are too icy to go anywhere. Electricity was off for 5 hours. I had to pile the blankets on to stay warm. Nothing to do but stare at the wife and try not to irritate her. Guess I should’ve bought a wood stove, but won’t admit it to her. God I hate it when she’s right. I can’t believe I’m freezing to death in my own living room.

December 20: Electricity’s back on, but had another 14″ of the damn stuff last night. More shoveling. Took all day. Goddamn snowplow came by twice. Tried to find a neighbor kid to shovel, but they said they’re too busy playing hockey. I think they’re lying. Called the only hardware store around to see about buying a snow blower and they’re out. Might have another shipment in March. I think they’re lying. Bob says I have to shovel or the city will have it done and bill me. I think he’s lying.

December 22: Bob was right about a white Christmas because 13 more inches of the white shit fell today, and it’s so cold it probably won’t melt till August. Took me 45 minutes to get all dressed up to go out to shovel and then I had to piss. By the time I got undressed, pissed and dressed again. I was too tired to shovel. Tried to hire Bob who has a plow on his truck for the rest of the winter; but he says he’s too busy. I think the asshole is lying.

December 23: Only 2″ of snow today. And it warmed up to 0. The wife wanted me to decorate the front of the house this morning. What is she…nuts??? Why didn’t she tell me to do that a month ago? She says she did but I think she’s damn well lying.

December 24: 6″. Snow packed so hard by snowplow, l broke the shovel. Thought I was having a heart attack. If I ever catch the son of a bitch who drives that snowplow, I’ll drag him through the snow by his balls. I know he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shoveling and then he comes down the street at a 100 miles an hour and throws snow all over where I’ve just been! Tonight the wife wanted me to sing Christmas carols with her and open our presents, but I was busy watching for the goddamn snowplow.

December 25: Merry Christmas. 20 more inches of the friggin slop tonight. Snowed in. The idea of shoveling makes my blood boil. Shit I hate the snow! Then the snowplow driver came by asking for a donation and I hit him over the head with my shovel. The wife says I have a bad attitude. I think she’s an idiot. If I have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” one more time, I’m going to kill her.

December 26: Still snowed in. Why the fuck did I ever move here? It was all HER idea. She’s really getting on my nerves.

December 27: Temperature dropped to -30 and the pipes froze.

December 28: Warmed up to above -50. Still snowed in. THE BITCH is driving me crazy!!!

December 29: 10 more inches. Bob says I have to shovel the roof or it could cavein. That’s the silliest thing I ever heard. How dumb does that bastard think I am?

December 30: Roof caved in. The snow plow driver is suing me for a million dollars for the bump on his head. The wife went home to her mother . 9″ predicted.

December 31: Set fire to what’s left of the house. No more shoveling.

January 8: I feel so good. I just love those little white pills they keep giving me.  Why am I tied to the bed?