Tarzan's Tripes Forever, and Other Feghoots

The Web's Original Shaggy Dog Story Archive


How clothes can you come?

Category: alt.callahans, Rated G

This was posted very recently on alt.callahans by the punster Liquor.


Liquor is not sure if anyone here has ever heard of the great oriental Temple of Humor. “That’s just about as likely as this ball,” he says throwing a small rubber ball over his left shoulder as he speaks, “not bouncing.”

The ball manages to land on the plate of a patron near the back of the bar – and sticks to whatever was there. “Nosh hit, sheer luck,” the patron mutters.

I am not referring to the fabled temple of the ‘Intenet Oracle’ – who happens to have his temple skillfully hidden as part of cs.indiana.edu, rather than Delphi, but the one in the southeast Asian country that has become rather notorious for the prevalence of it’s sex trade.

The Temple of Humor believes that to die laughing is indeed the best way to get in touch with their deity (or deities, they may have quite a few). As with many temples, everyone had to leave their shoes at the door, but rather than handing out the equivalent of prayer books and hymnals to its patrons, it provides them with joke books.

It can be a hazardous place to visit, as described by one of the internet’s more famous visitors, A. Ward ‘post-you-must’ Lee. It seems that he wound up literally ‘busting a seam’ laughing, though perhaps that should be ‘butting a seam’ — when he doubled over in laughter, he heard a ripping noise.

When one of the local temple workers saw this, he took Lee aside, and sewed the seam back up, but requested that Lee perform a simple task as payment for the service. All he had to do was hand out the joke books to the patrons as they arrived, guard the expensive (for that area) shoes that were worn by the girls arriving from the brothel across the street, and keep track of just how many sinners came from there.

It seems that the girls from that house were determined to make him lose count, since they all, singly or in groups, would tease and tickle, or even rub and kiss him, leaving him standing there rather frustrated as they went inside.

“He had, however, a simple method to keep track, and they were unable to prevent him from getting the count perfect. The assistants explain his system. “Clothes sewn, Lee counts sin – whores’ shoes -, and hands,” grin aids.

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