magic wang

JonJonB wrote: Purely in the interests of science, I have replaced the word "wand" with "wang" in the first Harry Potter Book. Let's see the results...

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.
"Oh, well -- I was at Hogwarts meself but I -- er -- got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wang in half an' everything."

A magic wang... this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.

"Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wang. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wang for charm work."
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wang. Eleven inches."

<LJ-CUT text=" --More--(36%) ">

Harry took the wang. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wang above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wang, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"

The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wang had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

He bent down and pulled his wang out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wang, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wang at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them.

"Yes," Harry said, gripping his wang very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding.... Any second now, he might hear his mother again... but he shouldn't think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn't want to... or did he?

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wang...

Then, with a sigh, he raised his wang and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.

'Get - off - me!' Harry gasped. For a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncles sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised wang.


is next: farting

There was all kinds of stuff in the news that made me angry this morning, so as has become customary on days like this, I'm going to pretend I didn't read any of that and move straight on to the fart jokes:
For those of you who think flatulence is a laughing matter, let me tell you from some readings and meetings I attended back during my Boeing space-station design days, it isn't. It's an extremely serious health issue in spacecraft. Pile seven people in an RV and recycle their individual up-to-two-liters-per-day of passed gas for two weeks and you've got a description of a Shuttle mission. Astronauts on orbit report getting used to the smell as it slowly builds up and the scrubbers fall behind. Post-landing Orbiter cleanup janitors have been known to puke from the stench upon entering the crew compartment - or so I've been told.
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mammonet, the first and only internet mammogram

"I don't know if this is a joke or real. If it's a joke, then you'll have a lot of explaining to do when the CIA gets a hold of you. You can't just be confusing people like this with terrorists on the loose."