One day, Jeffrey complained to his friend, "My elbow really hurts, I guess I should see a doctor."
"Don't do that! There's a computer at the drug store that can diagnose anything, quicker and cheaper than a doctor. Simply put in a sample of your urinе and the computer will diagnose your problem and tell you what you can do about it. It only costs $10."Jeffery figured he had nothing to lose, so he took his urinе sample to the drug store. Finding the computer, he poured in the sample and deposited the $10.00. The computer started making some noise and various lights started flashing. After a brief pause, out popped a small slip of paper on which was printed: "You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water. Avoid heavy lifting. It will be better in two weeks." Late that evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was and how it would change medical science forever, he began to wonder if this machine could be fooled. He decided to give it a try. He mixed together some tap water, a stool sample from his dog and urinе samples from his wife and daughter. To top it off, he masturbated into the concoction. He went back to the drug store, located the machine, poured in the sample and deposited $10.00. The computer again made the usual noise and printed out the following message: "Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener. Your dog has worms. Get him vitamins. Your daughter's using сосаinе. Put her in a rehabilitation clinic. Your wife's pregnant - twin girls. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer. And if you don't stop jerking off, your tennis elbow will never get better."
So this posh restaurant is looking for a piano player. A friend of the manager, the owner of a nearby jazz club, has a recommendation:
"You should give Stewart Campbell a ring. He's a bit eccentric, mind, but he's a genius."
Well, all artists have a bit of a peculiar side, the manager thinks. And sure enough, he calls him up and the next day Campbell shows up for an interview.
"I'm Stu," he says as he comes in, suit dishevelled, hair unkempt, and reeking of вооzе. "You were looking for a piano player?"
"Err, yes, what do you play?" the manager inquires.
"Anything," says Stu, "Anything at all so long as I wrote it meself."
"All... right -- can you do a little, say, smooth jazz?"
"Not a problem." Stu sits down at this stately old grand piano, and plays this most velvety, intricate but accessible piece.
As the last notes ring out, the manager is noticeably impressed. "That was great! What's it called?"
"'Вuggеr a Sheep While Taking a Dump'," Stu answers.
"Oh... Kay," the confused manager responds. "Well, how about something a bit more uptempo, maybe some crossover?"
And sure enough, without missing a beat he performs the funkiest, sultriest piece of music you ever heard.
"That's perfect!" the manager exclaims. "Does that have a title?"
"Yeah, this one's called 'Incontinent Сrаск Whоrе On a Tuesday Morning'."
Now, the restaurant's manager finds Stu strange indeed, to say the least, but he's just so good, he has to hire him, on the one condition that he won't introduce his works.
And sure enough, the next day he's bringing the house down over dinner and the wait staff is flooded with guests sending him their compliments, when in walks the most beautiful woman, tall and blonde in heels and a little black dress, and sits down at the table right in front of the piano.
Stu is just starting another of his most inspired easy listening compositions, but he struggles to keep playing as he just cannot stop staring at this most attractive lady.
Finally, he can't take it any longer and breaks off the song midway through and and rushes to the bathroom to маsтurвате furiously. Just as hurriedly he rushes back and starts playing again right where he left off.
When the song has finished the woman asks Stu, "Excuse me, do you know your соск's hanging out and there's сuм all over your shoes?"
And Stu responds, "Know it? I f**king WROTE it!"