...It was Kief or Southernland.
I figure he wouldn't want to be cooped up in one urn for long. While transferring his ashes, I broke his good urn. I am going to buy him another good urn. I guess its as the saying goes "one good urn deserves another".
They don’t care about fax anymore
would he become a Timberwolf in the Wild?
Because he didn't give a flying flip.
I’m a human bean
Since we didn't know how to pronounce his name, we just called him Noel.
Papal.
Without a US BC connection.
So we were talking about transferring money and I made a comment about not wanting to forget a paper note in my trousers when they get washed.
He looked me straight in the eye and shouted
‘Because you don’t want to be accused of... MONEY LAUNDERING’
Hello, welcome to the mental health hotline.
If you have obsessive compulsive disorder, press 1 repeatedly.
If you are codependent, please ask someone to press 2 for you.
If you have multiple personality syndrome, press 3, 4, 5, and 6.
If you suffer from paranoid schizophrenia, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on the line so we can trace your call.
If you are delusional, press 7 and your call will be transferred to the mothership.
If you are hearing voices, listen carefully and a small voice will tell you which number to press.
If you are manic depressive, it doesn't matter which button you press. No one will answer anyway.
If you are dyslexic, press 96969696969696.
If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the pound button until a representative comes on the line.
If you have amnesia, press 8 and state your name, address, phone number, date of birth, social security number, and your mother's and grandmother's maiden names.
If you have post traumatic stress disorder, slowly and carefully press 911.
If you have bi-polar disorder, please leave a message after the beep. Or before the beep. Or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.
If you have short term memory loss, please try you call again in a few minutes.
If you have low self esteem, please hang up. All our representatives are busy.
I told her she'll need to wait till the summer window if she wants a free transfer!
Eukaryotes.
"You go to the mall - that's one. The second method is you drop off a load of donations at Salvation Army. Third: you're picked up by a backhoe and transported to a pool of radioactive material in the middle of the garbage dump and your jeans are magically transferred off of you as you disintegrate. And the fourth? By policemen carrying out a court order in a maximum security prison."
Transfer them to a different branch
Attire
Someone asked "how many Sweets(sweet tea pitchers) are there?" another person replied, "there are only a few sweets." Without being part of the conversation, I corrected them with "I'm pretty sure there more than 'only a few' in Sweden."
I overheard a mother asking her son why he had to style his hair now. Father looks up from his phone and exclaims "well, we are at the hairport"
And the thing about eyes, sight, and light is that nobody really knows what colour anything is.
What we think of as colour is actually light reflecting off a surface in the visible light spectrum- nothing is inherently colourful on its own. So everything we see is actually in our own heads. Transfered light is reflecting off objects, into our eyes and being read/perceived by the brain as 'colour'.
It's all a pigment of our imagination.
I went with my parents to see my uncle who was just transferred to my university's hospital.
The nurse walks in and starts talking to us. Somehow the topic of genetics came up and she said "huh, I guess you got the good genes then!"
I looked down and pulled at my jeans. "I guess they're alright."
She rolled her eyes, smiled, and then let out a laugh. My dad was cracking up in the other corner of the room. I think I made him proud.
Because I am dying of the flue and will not live much longer, I am now turning over to you this grate responsibility. As a symbol of my blessing, and to make the transfer complete, I therefore pass this mantel to you.
I was trying to reach a guy with the last name Yip. When I called the front desk, I asked for him, and it went like:
Me: Mr. Yip, please
Her: Ok, Y-I-P?
Me: I don't know, why do you?
Her: ....huh?
Me: Yes, Y-I-P.
Her: Transferring...
I was amused, at least.
My wife is 8 weeks pregnant with our first (twins, actually). Today we had an ultrasound to check on them before my wife is officially transferred from the fertility specialist to her OB/GYN.
Nurse: Both heartbeats are a healthy 144.
Me: Gross.
Nurse: What?.... Oh. (nervous laugh)
Wife: (facepalm)
Me: (ear-to-ear grin)
My professor and I were emailing about the final project I had recently submitted when I decided to take the time to thank her for being so helpful. Professors that make classes easier to understand and add a little humor to their lectures deserve all the praise in the world, and mine was no exception to that. This was also my first class that wasn't a general education course, starting me on an MIS degree.
I emailed her saying something along the lines of,
"Thanks for being so helpful throughout the semester, this was my first MIS class and you really gave me the confidence I needed in knowing I was doing it right."
I followed with "Thanks for making this class so interesting, I will be transferring to (insert new college here) to continue earning my MIS degree. I think it's safe to say you influenced my decision to a certain degree. Hah! Certain degree, get it?"
She called me over after next lecture to tell me how bad my pun was while groaning and chuckling. No regrets.
Just wheeled in from surgery, transferred to hospital bed. Dude's laying in his bed, moaning.
Nurse is all, sir are you ok?
Ohhhhhhhhhhh.
Are you in pain, sir?
Moannnnnnn.
Sir, can you tell me what hurts?
It's my wallet…
My buddy at work saw me driving a company truck and sent me a text since he is transferring to another office in Japan.
Mike: Why are you in that stake bed. Me: Because I was hungry and tired! Mike: That doesn't make any sense. Me: Steak. Bed. Mike: Damn you!
We use these red sliding sheets to help transfer patients from the operating table to their trolley (they're widely used in hospitals and care environments for various patient manual handling tasks). For those who are unfamiliar, it's basically a double layered, frictionless sheet you position under the patient in order (theoretically) to transfer them with minimal force and effort.
One particular colleague hates them, and today ranted:
"I would love to punch the guy who invented these and has probably made millions of pounds and retired"
To which someone immediately responded:
"I bet he's a right slippery character though".
My housemate was talking about her upcoming trip to Puerto Rico and saying that she had to transfer flights in San Juan.
"But why would you continue after San Juan?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know what they say, when you've San Juan, you've seen 'em all!" Chuckles to self for the next five minutes
I was registering a vehicle to my name that I bought off a guy who had a lean out on it. The credit union who was holding the title took forever and a day to send it my way. Well in California, you need to transfer the vehicle in under five days of the purchase. Unknowingly, I waltz into the joint expecting a boom bam thank you ma'am process. Low and behold the clerk says I owe a hundred and some odd bucks for being late, but I explained her the situation and since it was not my fault she flopped the form to waive this fee.
I saw my opportunity and I pounced...
"So this is the....Tidal Wave?"
I get a blank stare for a solid ten seconds and she slaps down another form saying that I owe 500 dollars in taxes. Good ol' California DMV.
I work as a lab tech in my university, and as I was preparing some bacterial streak plates for some students (mind you, we use an innoculating loop to transfer bacteria from a sample tube to plates), I said to some of the students: "what did one bacteria said to the other? Let's get looped, and go streaking."
I received an uniform look of dissapointment and a couple of facepalms from the students while I giggled at my joke. The teacher loved it though.
My dad was in my car today and saw my USB storage drive in my stereo. The drive has a little blue light that blinks rapidly whenever there's data transferring, so it's constantly blinking if I'm playing music from it. My dad asked what it was, and I explained. He said, "I guess that's why it's called a flash drive!"
