Bill Gates in Hell

Upon dying, Bill Gates went to purgatory.
St. Peter said to his, “Now Bill, you have done some good things, and you have done some bad things. Now I am going to let you decide where you want to go”.
So ,Bill takes a look at hell and sees these beautiful women running around, in 80 degree temperature, on beautiful beaches.
Then he took a look at heaven and it was nice, you know harps and singing and worship and stuff like that.
So he said to St. Peter that he would like to go to hell.
About a week later, St. Peter went down to hell to check on Bill. There he saw him, being whipped by demons.
He said to St. Peter, “What happened to all the beautiful women, and the beaches and the 80 degree temperature?” Peter replied, “That was just the screen saver.”

Bill Clinton, Al Gore, and Bill Gates all died in a plane crash and went to meet their maker. The supreme deity turned to Al and asked, tell what is important about yourself. Al responded that he felt that the earth was the ultimate importance and that protecting the earth’s ecological system was most important. God looked to Al and said, ” I like the way you think, come and sit at my left hand”. God then asked Bill Clinton what he revered most. Bill Clinton responded that he felt people and their personal choices were most important. God responded, ” I like the way you think, come and sit at my right hand”. God then turned to Bill Gates, who was staring at him indignantly. God asked “What is your problem Bill Gates?” Bill responded ” I think you are sitting in my chair”.

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RAF Banter

As featured in the Flying Circus TV Show - Episode 42

A squadron leader, just off on a mission, runs past, and dashes into a Nissen hut

CAPTION: Somewhere in England, 1944

The squadron leader enters an RAF officers’ mess and takes off his helmet

Bovril (Terry J.): Morning, squadron leader.
Squadron Leader (Eric): What-ho, Squiffy.
Bovril: How was it?
Squadron Leader: Top hole. Bally Jerry pranged his kite right in the how’s your father. Hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harper’s and caught his can in the Bertie.
Bovril: Er, I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you, squadron leader.
Squadron Leader: It’s perfectly ordinary banter, Squiffy. Bally Jerry … pranged his kite right in the how’s yer father … hairy blighter, dicky-birdied, feathered back on his Sammy, took a waspy, flipped over on his Betty Harper’s and caught his can in the Bertie.
Bovril: No, I’m just not understanding banter at all well today. Give us it slower.
Squadron Leader: Banter’s not the same if you say it slower, Squiffy.
Bovril: Hold on, then. (shouts) Wingco!
Wingco (Graham): Yes!
Bovril: Bend an ear to the squadron leader’s banter for a sec, would you?
Wingco: Can do.
Bovril: Jolly good.
Wingco: Fire away.
Squadron Leader: (draws a deep breath and looks slightly uncertain, then starts even more deliberately then before) Bally Jerry … pranged his kite … right in the how’s your father … hairy blighter … dicky-birdied … … feathered back on his Sammy … took a waspy … flipped over on his Betty Harper’s … and caught his can in the Bertie.
Wingco: … No, don’t understand that banter at all.
Squadron Leader: Something up with my banter, chaps?

A siren goes. The door bursts open and an out-of-breath young pilot rushes in in his flying gear.

Pilot (Michael): Bunch of monkeys on your ceiling, sir! Grab your egg and fours and let’s get the bacon delivered.

General incomprehension. They look at each other

Wingco: Do you understand that?
Squadron Leader: No, didn’t get a word of it.
Wingco: Sorry old man, we don’t understand your banter.
Pilot: You know … bally ten-penny ones dropping in the custard … (searching for the words) um … Charlie Choppers chucking a handful …
Wingco: No, no … sorry.
Bovril: Say it a bit slower, old chap.
Pilot: Slower banter, sir?
Wingco: Ra-ther!
Pilot: Um … sausage squad up the blue end!
Squadron Leader: No, still don’t get it.
Pilot: Um … cabbage crates coming over the briny?
Squadron Leader: No.
Wingco, Pilot and Bovril: No, no …