Ego Jokes

Dear Santa:
I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply.
I want to slap Martha Stewart.
Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all. Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with gracious living.
We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18-carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, more...

Ego-wise, two things are important to engineers:
How smart they are.
How many cool devices they own.
The fastest way to get an engineer to solve a problem is to declare that the problem is unsolvable. No engineer can walk away from an unsolvable problem until it's solved. No illness or distraction is sufficient to get the engineer off the case. These types of challenges quickly become personal -- a battle between the engineer and the laws of nature.
Engineers will go without food and hygiene for days to solve a problem. (Other times just because they forgot.) And when they succeed in solving the problem they will experience an ego rush that is better than sex - and I'm including the kind of sex where other people are involved.
Nothing is more threatening to the engineer than the suggestion that somebody has more technical skill. Normal people sometimes use that knowledge as a lever to extract more work from the engineer. When an engineer says that something more...

Dear Santa,
I rarely ask for much. This year is no exception. I don't need diamond earrings, handy slicer-dicers or comfy slippers. I only want one little thing, and I want it deeply. I want to slap Martha Stewart.
Now, hear me out, Santa. I won't scar her or draw blood or anything. Just one good smack, right across her smug little cheek. I get all cozy inside just thinking about it. Don't grant this wish just for me, do it for thousands of women across the country. Through sheer vicarious satisfaction, you'll be giving a gift to us all.
Those of us leading average, garden variety lives aren't concerned with gracious living. We feel pretty good about ourselves if our paper plates match when we stack them on the counter, buffet-style for dinner. We're tired of Martha showing us how to make centerpieces from hollyhock dipped in 18 carat gold. We're plumb out of liquid gold. Unless it's of the furniture polish variety. We can't whip up Martha's creamy holiday sauce, spiced more...

Review: The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss, 61 pages. Beginner Books, $3. 95 The Cat in the Hat is a hard-hitting novel of prose and poetryin which the author re-examines the dynamic rhyming schemes andbold imagery of some of his earlier works, most notably GreenEggs and Ham, If I Ran the Zoo, and Why Can't I Shower WithMommy? In this novel, Theodore Geisel, writing under thepseudonym Dr. Seuss, pays homage to the great Dr. Sigmund Freudin a nightmarish fantasy of a renegade feline helping two youngchildren understand their own frustrated sexuality. The story opens with two youngsters, a brother and a sister, abandoned by their mother, staring mournfully through thewindow of their single-family dwelling. In the foreground, alarge tree/phallic symbol dances wildly in the wind, tauntingthe children and encouraging them to succumb to the sexualyearnings they undoubtedly feel for each other. Even to themost unlearned reader, the blatant references to theincestuous relationship the two share more...

I don't have a big ego, I'm way too cool for that.