A Russian and an American wrestler were set to square off for the Olympic Gold Medal. Before the final match, the American wrestler's trainer came to him and said, "now, don't forget all the research we've done on this Russian. He's never lost a match because of this 'Pretzel' hold he has, whatever you do don't let him get you in this hold! If he does, you're finished!" The wrestler nodded in acknowledgment. As the match started, the American and the Russian circled each other several times, looking for an opening. All of a sudden, the Russian lunged forward, grabbing the American and wrapping him up in the dreaded pretzel hold. A sigh of disappointment arose from the crowd and the trainer buried his face in his hands, for he knew all was lost. He couldn't watch the inevitable happen. Suddenly, there was a scream, then a cheer from the crowd and the trainer raised his eyes just in time to watch the Russian go flying up in the air. His back hit the mat with a thud and the American collapsed on top of him making the pin and winning the match. The trainer was astounded. When he finally got the American wrestler alone, he asked, "how did you ever get out of that hold? No one has ever done it before!" The wrestler answered,"well, I was ready to give up when he got me in that hold but at the last moment, I opened my eyes and saw his genitals right in front of my face. I had nothing to lose so with my last ounce of strength I stretched out my neck and bit those babies just as hard as I could." "So, the trainer exclaimed, 'that is what finished him off?!" "Not really. You'd be amazed how strong you get when you bite your own groin."

A small tourist hotel was all abuzz about an afternoon wedding where the groom was 95 years old and the bride was 23. The groom looked pretty feeble and the feeling was that the wedding night might kill him, because his bride was a healthy, vivacious young woman. But lo and behold, the next morning, the bride came down the main staircase slowly, step by step, hanging onto the banister for dear life. She finally managed to get to the counter of the little shop in the hotel. The clerk looked really concerned, "Whatever happened to you, honey? You look like you've been wrestling an alligator!" The bride groaned, hung on to the counter and managed to speak, "Ohhh God! He told me he'd been saving up for 75 years, and I thought he meant his money!!"

Week 1 - Memo No. 1 We are glad to announce that the company will be adopting Fridays from now on as Casual Day. All employees are free to arrive at work with the casual attire they wish to wear. Week 2 - Memo No. 2 Attention to all employees: Giant hats and chicken costumes are no longer allowed on Casual Day. Neither are wrestling outfits or edible underclothes. Week 5 - Memo No. 3 To all employees: The phrase Casual Day refers to attire, not attitude. When on smoke break, please avoid bringing 'joints', bongs or glass pipes to the office. Remember that our conduct dictates our success. Week 7 - Memo No. 4 A seminar on the appropriate attire and attitude on casual day will be held at 4PM on Friday in the cafeteria. Attendance is mandatory. Week 8 - Memo No. 5 Following the tragic events of the seminar, the 8 members of the Casual Day Task Force will be seeing to your safety during Casual Day, and will be preparing new guidelines for proper conduct. Week 12 - Memo No. 6 Attention all employees! The 26 members of the Casual Day Task Force would like to apologize to Louis' family, he will be missed. Today you will receive the complete, 277-page manual for 'how to relax on Casual Day without receiving a penalty'. Please see the chapter on 'keep it clean, keep it covered.' for some great tips, as well as the chapter 'Say no to animal costumes' Please read it and memorize for upcoming exam. Week 16 - Memo No. 7 Good news: Our medical coverage has now been altered to include psychological counselling for trauma. Please fill prescriptions and follow directions in order to be in the right state for Casual Day. Week 18 - Memo No. 8 Due to budget cuts, several law suits, and an ongoing police investigation, we are sorry to announce that we will be discontinuing Casual Day.

Harold and Al were on a small chartered airplane when the pilot suddenly had a heart attack. "Don`t Panic," cried Harold heroically. "I`ll land this baby!" Seizing the controls he headed for the runway at LaGuardia Airport, and began wrestling the diving plane to the ground. Just as the wheels touched the ground, Al screamed, "Red lights!! Right in front of you!" Harold Immediately threw the engine in reverse and jammed on the brakes, bringing the plane to a violent stop just inches from the edge of the lights. "Brother!" he puffed, wiping his brow. "That sure was a short runway!" "Yeah," agreed Al, looking side to side, "but look how WIDE it is."

 The wrestling match was about to begin and the Contender's coach was once again lecturing the Contender. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times-don't let the Champion get you in The Pretzel! No one has ever been able to get out of The Pretzel!" The Contender nodded his head, getting ready for the match. "I know, Coach, if you've told me once...I won't let him get me in The Pretzel!" "Good! Just don't let him get you in The Pretzel!" "Coach!" The crowd in the arena was roaring. The two wrestlers moved to ring, a well lit white square in the center of the seats. The Contender was called and the crowd cheered, then the Champion was called and the crowd roared. Coach called to the Contender "Don't let him get you in The Pretzel!", and the Contender nodded and moved into the center. After a few moments, the match began. Coach watched as the wrestlers twisted together, all power and speed. The crowd surged. The bodies on the mat became a twisted wreck. "The Pretzel..." the Coach whispered, reaching to throw the towel into the ring, knowing there was no way the Contender could win. Before he could, though, there was a horrible, wrenching scream of agony from the ring. The wrestlers parted, fought, and before anyone could react, the Contender had the Championed pinned. The count went down. There was a new Champion. Coach's jaw was on the ground, the towel still in his hand. He was amazed, shocked. The new Champion was hustled into the locker room, and Coach followed. "How did you do that? No one has ever got out of The Pretzel! Never!" "Well, Coach, if you've told me once, you've told me a thousand times...but he is really good. I thought I had everything under control, but he was so fast, before I knew it, he had me in The Pretzel and I heard the count going down. I couldn't move." "I looked up and there was a groin hanging right in front of my face, and I figured I had nothing to lose so I chomped on it as hard as I could." "You can't believe the strength you get from biting your own testicles."

An Army Recruit from the Australian outback sends a letter home: 'Dear Mum & Dad, I am well. Hope you are too. Tell me big brothers Doug and Phil that the Army is better than workin’ on the farm - tell them to get in quick smart before the jobs are all gone! I wuz a bit slow in settling down at first, because ya don’t hafta get outta bed until 6am. But I like sleeping in now, cuz all ya gotta do before brekky is make ya bed and shine ya boots and clean ya uniform. No cows to milk, no calves to feed, no feed to stack - nothin’!! Ya haz gotta shower though, but its not so bad, coz there’s lotsa hot water and even a light to see what ya doing! At brekky ya get cereal, fruit, and eggs but there’s no kangaroo steaks or possum stew like wot Mum makes. You don’t get fed again until noon and by that time all the city boys are dead because we’ve been on a ’route march’ - geez its only just like walking to the windmill in the back paddock!! This one will kill me brothers Doug and Phil with laughter. I keep getting medals for shootin’ - dunno why. The bullseye is as big as a possum’s bum and it don’t move and it’s not firing back at ya like the Johnsons did when our big scrubber bull got into their prize cows before the Ekka show last year! All ya gotta do is make yourself comfortable and hit the target! You don’t even load your own cartridges, they comes in little boxes, and ya don’t have to steady yourself against the rollbar of the roo shooting truck when you reload! Sometimes ya gotta wrestle with the city boys and I gotta be real careful coz they break easy - it’s not like fighting with Doug and Phil and Jack and Boori and Steve and Muzza all at once like we do at home after the muster. Turns out I’m not a bad boxer either and it looks like I’m the best the platoon’s got, and I’ve only been beaten by this one bloke from the Engineers - he’s 6 foot 5 and 15 stone and three pick handles across the shoulders and as ya know I’m only 5 foot 7 and eight stone wringin’ wet, but I fought him till the other blokes carried me off to the boozer. I can’t complain about the Army - tell the boys to get in quick before word gets around how good it is. Your loving daughter, Sheila.'