Sunday, December 31, 2006
[Interest] Get Lost
Motorists switch satnav on, brain offFri Dec 22, 2006 12:51 PM ET By Erik Kirschbaum BERLIN, Dec 22 (Reuters Life!) - Motorists who seem to turn off their brain when switching on their car's satellite navigation system have had a number of spectacular crashes in the past year -- but occasionally they're right to blame the machine. Drivers obeying directions given by a sultry satnav voice have crashed into rivers, construction sites and roadside toilets in Germany, and had similar accidents in Britain. "It's hard to understand how these things can happen," said Maximilian Maurer, spokesman for the German motoring club ADAC. "It's not as if people are driving in a tank with only a small slit to see out. You'd think they have their own eyes and brains engaged to make decisions and not rely on the satnav. I used to think satnavs were 'idiot-proof', but perhaps not." In October a 53-year-old German, obeying his satnav's command "Turn right now!" jerked the wheel over and crashed into a roadside toilet hut 30 metres (yards) before the crossing he was meant to take, causing 2,000 euros ($2,600) damage. A few weeks earlier, an 80-year-old motorist also followed his satnav instead of common sense and ignored a "closed for construction" sign on a Hamburg motorway. He hit a pile of sand at high speed but was not hurt. "I just thought the navigation system knew a shortcut," Volker Heinemann was quoted as telling a local newspaper. His car had to be towed away. In southern England a 29-year-old woman survived unscathed after misreading her satnav and driving the wrong way on a motorway near Portsmouth at nearly 120 km (75 miles) per hour, according to a local newspaper. When stopped after 22 km of dodging oncoming traffic, she told police she had only followed the satnav orders. CHELTENHAM OR CHELMSFORD? In early December, the American band "Viscount Oliver's Legendary Four Tops" missed their own sold-out concert in Cheltenham, southwest England, after following satnav directions to Chelmsford -- 220 km to the east. "Whoever tapped the place into the satnav got it wrong," the band's tour manager Alan Frazer said. An ambulance driver with a faulty satnav drove more than 600 km while transferring a patient from one hospital in Ilford east of London to another in Brentwood -- 13 km away. He was near Manchester, northern England, before realizing his error. Experts say that as cars get smarter, some people seem to get dumber, and the problem increases as more vehicles are equipped with the devices. ADAC said one in three new cars in Germany has satnav, and retailers say they are among the top Christmas gifts in Germany this year. Joachim Siedler, spokesman for market leader Blaupunkt, said it was absurd to blame the gadgets for human errors and noted motorists are clearly warned the devices are there to help, not to take decisions. "If a traffic light is red it's obvious you have to stop even if the satnav says 'drive straight on'," he said. "People who drive into rivers and then blame their satnav are just too humiliated to accept blame themselves." One German did drive his car into the Havel River near Berlin on a foggy Christmas Day. He said his satnav had made a ferry crossing look like a bridge. ADAC spokesman Maurer said humans are ultimately responsible for the blunders but noted that satnavs are not infallible. "I was on a motorway recently and my satnav said 'turn left now'," he said. "If I had done, I would have crashed into the guard rail. It was using an outdated, pre-motorway map." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- © Reuters 2006. All rights reserved. Republication or redistribution of Reuters content, including by caching, framing or similar means, is expressly prohibited without the prior written consent of Reuters. Reuters and the Reuters sphere logo are registered trademarks and trademarks of the Reuters group of companies around the world.
[Interest] Holiday Eating Tips
From Jay Thomas, courtesy of Sirius Satelite Radio
Holiday Eating Tips
Try not to become an eggnog-aholic this Christmas…1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labour Day?9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have SOME standards.10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips & start over… but hurry, January is just around the corner
Holiday Eating Tips
Try not to become an eggnog-aholic this Christmas…1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like fine single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.8. Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or, if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labour Day?9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have SOME standards.10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Reread tips & start over… but hurry, January is just around the corner
Friday, December 29, 2006
[Spirited] True Love
That's How Much I Love You by Max Lucado Untethered by time, God sees us all. From the backwoods of Virginia to the business district of London; from the Vikings to the astronauts, from the cave-dwellers to the kings, from the hut-builders to the finger-pointers to the rock-stackers, he sees us. Vagabonds and ragamuffins all, he saw us before we were born. And he loves what he sees. Flooded by emotion. Overcome by pride, the Starmaker turns to us, one by one, and says, “You are my child. I love you dearly. I’m aware that someday you’ll turn from me and walk away. But I want you to know, I’ve already provided you a way back.” And to prove it, he did something extraordinary. Stepping from the throne, he removed his robe of light and wrapped himself in skin: pigmented, human skin. The light of the universe entered a dark, wet womb. He who angels worship nestled himself in the placenta of a peasant, was birthed into the cold night, and then slept on cow’s hay. Mary didn’t know whether to give him milk or give him praise, but she gave him both since he was, as near as she could figure, hungry and holy. Joseph didn’t know whether to call him Junior or Father. But in the end called him Jesus, since that’s what the angel said and since he didn’t have the faintest idea what to name a God he could cradle in his arms. Neither Mary nor Joseph said it as bluntly as my Sara, but don’t you think their heads tilted and their minds wondered, “What in the world are you doing, God?” Or, better phrased, “God, what are you doing in the world?” “Can anything make me stop loving you?” God asks. “Watch me speak your language, sleep on your earth, and feel your hurts. Behold the maker of sight and sound as he sneezes, coughs, and blows his nose. You wonder if I understand how you feel? Look into the dancing eyes of the kid in Nazareth; that’s God walking to school. Ponder the toddler at Mary’s table; that’s God spilling his milk. “You wonder how long my love will last? Find your answer on a splintered cross, on a craggy hill. That’s me you see up there, your maker, your God, nail-stabbed and bleeding. Covered in spit and sin-soaked. That’s your sin I’m feeling. That’s your death I’m dying. That’s your resurrection I’m living. That’s how much I love you.” From In the Grip of Grace Copyright 1996, Max Lucado
[Spirited] A Birthday Letter
Dear loved ones, As you well know, we are getting closer to my birthday. Every year there is a celebration in my honor and I think that this year the celebration will be repeated. During this time there are many people shopping for gifts, there are many radio announcements, TV commercials, and in every part of the world everyone is talking that my birthday is getting closer and closer. It is really very nice to know, that at least once a year, some people think of me. As you know, the celebration of my birthday began many years ago. At first people seemed to understand and be thankful of all that I did for them, but in these times, no one seems to know the reason for the celebration. Family and friends get together and have a lot of fun, but they don't know the meaning of the celebration. I remember that last year there was a great feast in my honor. The dinner table was full of delicious foods, pastries, fruits, assorted nuts and chocolates. The decorations were exquisite and there were many, many beautifully wrapped gifts. But, do you want to know something? I wasn't invited. I was the guest of honor and they didn't remember to send me an invitation. The party was for me, but when that great day came, I was left outside, they closed the door in my face .... and I wanted to be with them and share their table. In truth, that didn't surprise me because in the last few years all close their doors to me. Since I wasn't invited, I decided to enter the party without making any noise. I went in and stood in a corner. They were all drinking; there were some who were drunk and telling jokes and laughing at everything. They were having a grand time. To top it all, this big fat man all dressed in red wearing a long white beard entered the room yelling Ho-Ho-Ho! He seemed drunk. He sat on the sofa and all the children ran to him, saying: "Santa Claus, Santa Claus" as if the party were in his honor! At 12 Midnight all the people began to hug each other; I extended my arms waiting for someone to hug me and ... do you know .. no one hugged me. Suddenly they all began to share gifts. They opened them one by one with great expectation. When all had been opened, I looked to see if, maybe, there was one for me. What would you feel if on your birthday everybody shared gifts and you did not get one? I then understood that I was unwanted at that party and quietly left. Every year it gets worse. People only remember to eat and drink, the gifts, the parties and nobody remembers me. I would like this Christmas that you allow me to enter into your life. I would like that you recognize the fact that almost two thousand years ago I came to this world to give my life for you, on the cross, to save you. Today, I only want that you believe this with all your heart. I want to share something with you. As many didn't invite me to their party, I will have my own celebration, a grandiose party that no one has ever imagined, a spectacular party. I'm still making the final arrangements. Today I am sending out many invitations and there is an invitation for you. I want to know if you wish to attend and I will make a reservation for you and write your name with golden letters in my great guest book. Only those on the guest list will be invited to the party. Those who don't answer the invite, will be left outside. Be prepared because when all is ready you will be part of my great party. See you soon. I Love you! Jesus P.S. Please share this message with your loved ones, before Christmas
[Spirited] Christmas Shopping
FULL OF IT
A woman was Christmas shopping with her two children. After many hours of walking down row after row of toys and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the store elevator with her two children in hand. She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of the year, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming, taste all the holiday food and treats, making sure we don’t forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card. Finally the elevator doors opened revealing a crowd in the car. She pushed her way in and dragged her two kids and all her bags of stuff in with her. As the doors closed she couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out, “Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up, and shot.” From the back of the car, a quiet calm voice responded, “Don’t worry, we’ve already crucified Him.” The rest of the trip down was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Don’t forget this year to keep the One who started this whole Christmas thing in your every thought, deed, purchase, and word. If we all would, just think how much better this world would be. Jesus is the reason for the season. Wise men still seek Him.
A woman was Christmas shopping with her two children. After many hours of walking down row after row of toys and after hours of hearing both her children asking for everything they saw on those many shelves, she finally made it to the store elevator with her two children in hand. She was feeling what so many of us feel during the holiday season time of the year, getting that perfect gift for every single person on our shopping list, overwhelming pressure to go to every party, every housewarming, taste all the holiday food and treats, making sure we don’t forget anyone on our card list, and the pressure of making sure we respond to everyone who sent us a card. Finally the elevator doors opened revealing a crowd in the car. She pushed her way in and dragged her two kids and all her bags of stuff in with her. As the doors closed she couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out, “Whoever started this whole Christmas thing should be found, strung up, and shot.” From the back of the car, a quiet calm voice responded, “Don’t worry, we’ve already crucified Him.” The rest of the trip down was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Don’t forget this year to keep the One who started this whole Christmas thing in your every thought, deed, purchase, and word. If we all would, just think how much better this world would be. Jesus is the reason for the season. Wise men still seek Him.
[Adult] Ball and Chain
PILLOW TALK
TO MY DEAR WIFE:
During the past year I have tried to make love to you 365 times. I have succeeded 36 times, which is an average of once every ten days. The following is a list of why I did not succeed more often: 54 times the sheets were clean 17 times it was too late 49 times you were too tired 20 times it was too hot 15 times you pretended to be asleep 22 times you had a headache 17 times you were afraid of waking the baby 16 times you said you were too sore 12 times it was the wrong time of the month 19 times you had to get up early 9 times you said weren't in the mood 7 times you were sunburned 6 times you were watching the late show 5 times you didn't want to mess up your new hairdo 3 times you said the neighbors would hear us 9 times you said your mother would hear us Of the 36 times I did succeed, the activity was not satisfactory because: 6 times you just laid there 8 times you reminded me there's a crack in the ceiling 4 times you told me to hurry up and get it over with 7 times I had to wake you and tell you I finished 1 time I was afraid I had hurt you because I felt you move KEEP READING....... TO MY DEAR HUSBAND: I think you have things a little confused. Here are the reasons you didn't get more than you did: 5 times you came home drunk and tried to screw the cat 36 times you did not come home at all 21 times you didn't cum 33 times you came too soon 19 times you went soft before you got in 38 times you worked too late 10 times you got cramps in your toes 29 times you had to get up early to play golf 2 times you were in a fight and someone kicked you in the balls 4 times you got it stuck in your zipper 3 times you had a cold and your nose was running 2 times you had a splinter in your finger 20 times you lost the notion after thinking about it all day 6 times you came in your pajamas while reading a dirty book 98 times you were too busy watching TV Of the times we did get together: The reason I laid still was because you missed and were screwing the sheets. I wasn't talking about the crack in the ceiling, what I said was, "Would you prefer me on my back or kneeling?" The time you felt me move was because you farted and I was trying to breathe.
TO MY DEAR WIFE:
During the past year I have tried to make love to you 365 times. I have succeeded 36 times, which is an average of once every ten days. The following is a list of why I did not succeed more often: 54 times the sheets were clean 17 times it was too late 49 times you were too tired 20 times it was too hot 15 times you pretended to be asleep 22 times you had a headache 17 times you were afraid of waking the baby 16 times you said you were too sore 12 times it was the wrong time of the month 19 times you had to get up early 9 times you said weren't in the mood 7 times you were sunburned 6 times you were watching the late show 5 times you didn't want to mess up your new hairdo 3 times you said the neighbors would hear us 9 times you said your mother would hear us Of the 36 times I did succeed, the activity was not satisfactory because: 6 times you just laid there 8 times you reminded me there's a crack in the ceiling 4 times you told me to hurry up and get it over with 7 times I had to wake you and tell you I finished 1 time I was afraid I had hurt you because I felt you move KEEP READING....... TO MY DEAR HUSBAND: I think you have things a little confused. Here are the reasons you didn't get more than you did: 5 times you came home drunk and tried to screw the cat 36 times you did not come home at all 21 times you didn't cum 33 times you came too soon 19 times you went soft before you got in 38 times you worked too late 10 times you got cramps in your toes 29 times you had to get up early to play golf 2 times you were in a fight and someone kicked you in the balls 4 times you got it stuck in your zipper 3 times you had a cold and your nose was running 2 times you had a splinter in your finger 20 times you lost the notion after thinking about it all day 6 times you came in your pajamas while reading a dirty book 98 times you were too busy watching TV Of the times we did get together: The reason I laid still was because you missed and were screwing the sheets. I wasn't talking about the crack in the ceiling, what I said was, "Would you prefer me on my back or kneeling?" The time you felt me move was because you farted and I was trying to breathe.
[Humor] Ye Olde Christmas
A CHRISTMAS POEM 'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,And all of us seniors were looking our best.Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;Our punch bowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.
A bedsock was taped to each walker in hope,That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.We surely were lucky to be there with friends,Secure in this residence and in our Depends.Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.
Our supper, so festive (the joy wouldn't stop),Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great;Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.The social director then had us play games,Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.Our resident wanderer was tied to her chair,In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.Security lights on the new fallen snowMade outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).A strange little fellow flew in through the door,Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.We knew from the way that he strutted and jivedOur Social Security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.'fore long you'll be with us. We wish you the best.MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
A bedsock was taped to each walker in hope,That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.We surely were lucky to be there with friends,Secure in this residence and in our Depends.Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.
Our supper, so festive (the joy wouldn't stop),Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great;Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.The social director then had us play games,Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.Our resident wanderer was tied to her chair,In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.Security lights on the new fallen snowMade outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).A strange little fellow flew in through the door,Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.We knew from the way that he strutted and jivedOur Social Security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.'fore long you'll be with us. We wish you the best.MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
[Spirited} Advent Greetings
WATCHING AND WAITING
It's still not Christmas, OK? It's Advent. OK? Not that you could tell it from where we live. Several times a day I pass an inflatible carousel with Santa and his elves on renideer and other mindblowing paraphanalia. Here are some thoughts to keep us thinking about Christmas while maintaining a "Waiting and Watching!" attitude. Be ready with your witness to your neighbor's about the reason for the season. Feel free to pass this on to your neighbors. Anyone can enroll for this as an email by wisiting our Yahoo! page. Also, one can clock onto our web site and visit "Christmas" for many inspiring birth-of-Jesus stories, poems, carols and traditions.
Here is an example, a Christmas version of 1 Corinthians 13 that I thought you might enjoy...
If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another decorator.
If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another cook.
If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.
If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir’s cantata, but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.
Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn’t envy another’s home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.
Love doesn’t yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.
Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust. But giving the gift of love will endure.
You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.
It's still not Christmas, OK? It's Advent. OK? Not that you could tell it from where we live. Several times a day I pass an inflatible carousel with Santa and his elves on renideer and other mindblowing paraphanalia. Here are some thoughts to keep us thinking about Christmas while maintaining a "Waiting and Watching!" attitude. Be ready with your witness to your neighbor's about the reason for the season. Feel free to pass this on to your neighbors. Anyone can enroll for this as an email by wisiting our Yahoo! page. Also, one can clock onto our web site and visit "Christmas" for many inspiring birth-of-Jesus stories, poems, carols and traditions.
Here is an example, a Christmas version of 1 Corinthians 13 that I thought you might enjoy...
If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another decorator.
If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I’m just another cook.
If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home, and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.
If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir’s cantata, but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.
Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn’t envy another’s home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.
Love doesn’t yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.
Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust. But giving the gift of love will endure.
You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.
[Humor] Low Brow
ALL PUNS INTENDED
I think it was Oscar Wilde who said that a pun is the lowest form of humor, when you don't think of it first. I can just imagine what he would have thought of these.
1. Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love and got married. The ceremonywasn't much, but the reception was excellent.
2. A jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, "I'll serve you, butdon't start anything."
3. Two peanuts walk into a bar, and one was a salted.
4. A dyslexic man walks into a bra.
5. A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm, and says: "Abeer please, and one for the road."
6. Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this tastefunny to you?"
7. "Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home." "That soundslike Tom Jones Syndrome." "Is it common?" "Well, It's Not Unusual."
8. Two cows are standing next to each other in a field. Daisy says to Dolly,"I was artificially inseminated this morning." "I don't believe you," saysDolly. "It's true; no bull!" exclaims Daisy.
9. An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing tolook at either.
10. Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bull before.
11. I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day, but I couldn'tfind any.
12. A man woke up in a hospital after a serious accident. He shouted,"Doctor, doctor, I can't feel my legs!" The doctor replied, "I know youcan't - I've cut off your arms!"
13. I went to a seafood disco last week . . . and pulled a mussel.
14. What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.
15. Two fish swim into a concrete wall. The one turns to the other and says,"Dam!"
16. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in thecraft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can't have yourkayak and heat it too.
17. A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel, and were standing inthe lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour,the manager came out of the office, and asked them to disperse. "But why,"they asked, as they moved off. "Because," he said, "I can't stand chess-nutsboasting in an open foyer."
18. A woman has twins, and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to afamily in Egypt, and is named "Ahmal". The other goes to a family in Spain;they name him "Juan". Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to hisbirth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that shewishes she also had a picture of Ahmal. Her husband responds, "They'retwins! If you've seen Juan, you've seen Ahmal."
19. Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, whichproduced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little,which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from badbreath. This made him. (Oh, man, this is so bad, it's good) . . . Asuper-calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.
20. And finally, there was the person who sent twenty different puns to hisfriends, with the hope that at least ten of the puns would make them laugh.No pun in ten did!!!
I think it was Oscar Wilde who said that a pun is the lowest form of humor, when you don't think of it first. I can just imagine what he would have thought of these.
1. Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love and got married. The ceremonywasn't much, but the reception was excellent.
2. A jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, "I'll serve you, butdon't start anything."
3. Two peanuts walk into a bar, and one was a salted.
4. A dyslexic man walks into a bra.
5. A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm, and says: "Abeer please, and one for the road."
6. Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this tastefunny to you?"
7. "Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home." "That soundslike Tom Jones Syndrome." "Is it common?" "Well, It's Not Unusual."
8. Two cows are standing next to each other in a field. Daisy says to Dolly,"I was artificially inseminated this morning." "I don't believe you," saysDolly. "It's true; no bull!" exclaims Daisy.
9. An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing tolook at either.
10. Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bull before.
11. I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day, but I couldn'tfind any.
12. A man woke up in a hospital after a serious accident. He shouted,"Doctor, doctor, I can't feel my legs!" The doctor replied, "I know youcan't - I've cut off your arms!"
13. I went to a seafood disco last week . . . and pulled a mussel.
14. What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.
15. Two fish swim into a concrete wall. The one turns to the other and says,"Dam!"
16. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in thecraft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can't have yourkayak and heat it too.
17. A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel, and were standing inthe lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour,the manager came out of the office, and asked them to disperse. "But why,"they asked, as they moved off. "Because," he said, "I can't stand chess-nutsboasting in an open foyer."
18. A woman has twins, and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to afamily in Egypt, and is named "Ahmal". The other goes to a family in Spain;they name him "Juan". Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to hisbirth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that shewishes she also had a picture of Ahmal. Her husband responds, "They'retwins! If you've seen Juan, you've seen Ahmal."
19. Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, whichproduced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little,which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from badbreath. This made him. (Oh, man, this is so bad, it's good) . . . Asuper-calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.
20. And finally, there was the person who sent twenty different puns to hisfriends, with the hope that at least ten of the puns would make them laugh.No pun in ten did!!!
[Interest] Far Afield
OUT OF LEFT FIELD
People who are not geography challenged may not relate to this, but I had a humbling experience earlier in the week when a cyber-friend sent me a link to something called GeoQuiz (and by all means, please feel free to visit their web site at www.lizardpoint.com/fun/geoquiz and see for yourself) where you can test your knowledge of the modern world. Or, if you're a moron like me, what you end up doing instead of testing your knowledge is confirming your ignorance, which if I wasn't already taking a variety of mood-enhancing drugs, I would tend to find pretty depressing, thank you very much not. I started in Europe, where I figured I would have about the best chance, since I know practically nothing about Africa, and I knew if they asked me one question about Australia, I already wouldn't know the answer. So they show you all the European countries nestled together cheek by jowl, as they are, and in different colors (which they aren't in real life, by the way) and then they tell you to go ahead and click on the one that you think is Slovenia. So you click on something to the right of Italy, and it tells you, no that's Slovakia, try again. So you click on something different even farther to the right, and that turns out to be Ukraine. So then it feels sorry for you, and asks you to try to find The Netherlands instead, which only goes to prove that you can find Norway, Sweden and Finland, but somehow The Netherlands continue to elude you, that is, if you're an idiot like me. Then it really must have taken pity on me, and lobbed me a few fat ones, so that I could at least demonstrate that I knew where to find France, Spain, Portugal, England, Ireland, Greenland and Poland. After that, it asked me to locate Moldova, and at that point, I just had to throw in the towel and splutter, "Okay, now you're just making this stuff up!" Moldova, indeed.
Alert readers may be wondering whatever became of the mythical locality of Moldova from the GeoQuiz web page. Well, wonder no more, because we have our friends at www.wikipedia.org to thank for this historical tidbit about the imaginary region:
==============================
MOLDOVA
For other uses of "Moldova" and "Moldavia", see Moldova (disambiguation).
The Republic of Moldova (Republica Moldova) is a small landlocked country in eastern Europe, located between Romania to the west and Ukraine to the east and south. Historically part of the Principality of Moldavia, it was annexed by the Russian Empire in 1812 and reunited with other Romanian lands in Romania in 1918. After changing hands during World War II and ultimately being annexed by the Soviet Union, it was known as the Moldavian SSR between 1945 and 1991 and finally declared its independence on 27 August 1991.
The Republic of Moldova is a member state of the United Nations, WMO, UNICEF, GUAM, CIS, BSEC and other international organizations.
Moldova is a parliamentary democracy with a President as its head of state and a Prime Minister as its head of government.
==============================
They also provide a wealth of other pertinent information, such as the size and population, language, capital city, anthem ("Limba Noastra" - gosh, now I'll be singing that all week!) plus pictures of their flag and coat of arms. For me, the most poignant part was the section that said simply: "Motto - none." By golly, that's waving the proverbial red flag in front of the charging bull, and don't think that I intend to take that lying down! No motto! What kind of a cockamamie whackadoo tin-plated outfit are they running here, anyway? How do they expect anyone at the WMO, CIS or BSEC to take them seriously, when they don't even have a motto to call their own? I would think that would be the first thing you would come up with, if you were going to strike out on your own, and toss off the Russian yoke (in fact, "Toss the Russkies!" wouldn't be such a bad motto, under the circumstances) and yet, here they are all lounging around on their Moldovan backsides, as if their motto is just going to drop out of the sky and fall into their laps one of these fine days.
Well, I for one will not stand for it. I say we come up with a motto for these Moldovan laggards, before they become the laughingstock of the international community and motto-loving individuals the world over. Back in the day that the dinosaurs and I were roaming the vast unformed land masses, there was a service station nearby with its slogan above the door on an outside wall in letters attached to the building. Unfortunately, time and gravity had taken their toll, so that the world passing by was left to wonder why the building seemed to be announcing to one and all --
ERVICE IS UR MOTT
As a matter of fact, it made me wonder if service really was their motto, why the first order of business wasn't getting up there on a ladder to fix their own slogan. In any event, in the absence of anything more appropriate, I nominate "Ervice Is Ur Mott" for the official motto of the Republic of Moldova, and they are welcome to it. No, don't thank me, the bright, shining faces of happy Moldovans are all the gratitude that I need.
People who are not geography challenged may not relate to this, but I had a humbling experience earlier in the week when a cyber-friend sent me a link to something called GeoQuiz (and by all means, please feel free to visit their web site at www.lizardpoint.com/fun/geoquiz and see for yourself) where you can test your knowledge of the modern world. Or, if you're a moron like me, what you end up doing instead of testing your knowledge is confirming your ignorance, which if I wasn't already taking a variety of mood-enhancing drugs, I would tend to find pretty depressing, thank you very much not. I started in Europe, where I figured I would have about the best chance, since I know practically nothing about Africa, and I knew if they asked me one question about Australia, I already wouldn't know the answer. So they show you all the European countries nestled together cheek by jowl, as they are, and in different colors (which they aren't in real life, by the way) and then they tell you to go ahead and click on the one that you think is Slovenia. So you click on something to the right of Italy, and it tells you, no that's Slovakia, try again. So you click on something different even farther to the right, and that turns out to be Ukraine. So then it feels sorry for you, and asks you to try to find The Netherlands instead, which only goes to prove that you can find Norway, Sweden and Finland, but somehow The Netherlands continue to elude you, that is, if you're an idiot like me. Then it really must have taken pity on me, and lobbed me a few fat ones, so that I could at least demonstrate that I knew where to find France, Spain, Portugal, England, Ireland, Greenland and Poland. After that, it asked me to locate Moldova, and at that point, I just had to throw in the towel and splutter, "Okay, now you're just making this stuff up!" Moldova, indeed.
Alert readers may be wondering whatever became of the mythical locality of Moldova from the GeoQuiz web page. Well, wonder no more, because we have our friends at www.wikipedia.org to thank for this historical tidbit about the imaginary region:
==============================
MOLDOVA
For other uses of "Moldova" and "Moldavia", see Moldova (disambiguation).
The Republic of Moldova (Republica Moldova) is a small landlocked country in eastern Europe, located between Romania to the west and Ukraine to the east and south. Historically part of the Principality of Moldavia, it was annexed by the Russian Empire in 1812 and reunited with other Romanian lands in Romania in 1918. After changing hands during World War II and ultimately being annexed by the Soviet Union, it was known as the Moldavian SSR between 1945 and 1991 and finally declared its independence on 27 August 1991.
The Republic of Moldova is a member state of the United Nations, WMO, UNICEF, GUAM, CIS, BSEC and other international organizations.
Moldova is a parliamentary democracy with a President as its head of state and a Prime Minister as its head of government.
==============================
They also provide a wealth of other pertinent information, such as the size and population, language, capital city, anthem ("Limba Noastra" - gosh, now I'll be singing that all week!) plus pictures of their flag and coat of arms. For me, the most poignant part was the section that said simply: "Motto - none." By golly, that's waving the proverbial red flag in front of the charging bull, and don't think that I intend to take that lying down! No motto! What kind of a cockamamie whackadoo tin-plated outfit are they running here, anyway? How do they expect anyone at the WMO, CIS or BSEC to take them seriously, when they don't even have a motto to call their own? I would think that would be the first thing you would come up with, if you were going to strike out on your own, and toss off the Russian yoke (in fact, "Toss the Russkies!" wouldn't be such a bad motto, under the circumstances) and yet, here they are all lounging around on their Moldovan backsides, as if their motto is just going to drop out of the sky and fall into their laps one of these fine days.
Well, I for one will not stand for it. I say we come up with a motto for these Moldovan laggards, before they become the laughingstock of the international community and motto-loving individuals the world over. Back in the day that the dinosaurs and I were roaming the vast unformed land masses, there was a service station nearby with its slogan above the door on an outside wall in letters attached to the building. Unfortunately, time and gravity had taken their toll, so that the world passing by was left to wonder why the building seemed to be announcing to one and all --
ERVICE IS UR MOTT
As a matter of fact, it made me wonder if service really was their motto, why the first order of business wasn't getting up there on a ladder to fix their own slogan. In any event, in the absence of anything more appropriate, I nominate "Ervice Is Ur Mott" for the official motto of the Republic of Moldova, and they are welcome to it. No, don't thank me, the bright, shining faces of happy Moldovans are all the gratitude that I need.
[Interest] Dam Busters
DAM IT ALL
This is an actual letter sent to a man named Ryan DeVries by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality, State of Pennsylvania.
SUBJECT: DEQ File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr. DeVries:
It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity:
Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond.
A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity.
A review of the Department’’s files shows that no permits have been issued.
Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.
The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations. We find that dams of this nature are inherently hazardous and cannot be permitted. The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2006.
Please notify this office when the restoration has been comopleted so that a follow-up site inspection may be scheduled by our staff.
Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action.
We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter.
Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
David L. Price District Representative and Water Management Division ~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Re: DEQ File No 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr. Price:
Your certified letter dated 12/17/05 has been handed to me to respond to. I am the legal landowner but not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane, Trout Run, Pennsylvania.
A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood ""debris"" dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of nature’’s building materials ""debris."" I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate their dam project any time and/or any place you choose. I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic.
As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity.
My first dam question to you is:
(1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers, or (2) do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request?
If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.
I have several concerns. My first concern is; aren’’t the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation - so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer. The Department’’s dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural occurrence, which the Department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling their dam names.
If you want the stream ""restored"" to a dam free-flow condition, please contact the beavers - but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being unable to read English.
In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment (Beaver’’s Dams.)
So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2006? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice then and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them then.
In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention a real environmental quality (health) problem in the area. It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone.
If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your step! (The bears are not careful where they dump!)
Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office.
THANK YOU.
Ryan DeVries & The Dam Beavers
This is an actual letter sent to a man named Ryan DeVries by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality, State of Pennsylvania.
SUBJECT: DEQ File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr. DeVries:
It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity:
Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond.
A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity.
A review of the Department’’s files shows that no permits have been issued.
Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.
The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations. We find that dams of this nature are inherently hazardous and cannot be permitted. The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2006.
Please notify this office when the restoration has been comopleted so that a follow-up site inspection may be scheduled by our staff.
Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action.
We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter.
Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
David L. Price District Representative and Water Management Division ~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Re: DEQ File No 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr. Price:
Your certified letter dated 12/17/05 has been handed to me to respond to. I am the legal landowner but not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane, Trout Run, Pennsylvania.
A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood ""debris"" dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of nature’’s building materials ""debris."" I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate their dam project any time and/or any place you choose. I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic.
As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity.
My first dam question to you is:
(1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers, or (2) do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request?
If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.
I have several concerns. My first concern is; aren’’t the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation - so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer. The Department’’s dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural occurrence, which the Department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling their dam names.
If you want the stream ""restored"" to a dam free-flow condition, please contact the beavers - but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being unable to read English.
In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment (Beaver’’s Dams.)
So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2006? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice then and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them then.
In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention a real environmental quality (health) problem in the area. It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone.
If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your step! (The bears are not careful where they dump!)
Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office.
THANK YOU.
Ryan DeVries & The Dam Beavers
[Humor] Mood Therapy
DREAM TEAM
It reminds me of the time that I was having these nightly dreams
that alternated between dreaming I was a tee pee one night,
and then the next night, a wig wam.
This went on for a while, so I went to my doctor
and told him about my dreams.
He said it must be because I was too tense.......
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"LAUGHTER IS CONTAGIOUS"Have You Infected Anyone Today?
It reminds me of the time that I was having these nightly dreams
that alternated between dreaming I was a tee pee one night,
and then the next night, a wig wam.
This went on for a while, so I went to my doctor
and told him about my dreams.
He said it must be because I was too tense.......
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"LAUGHTER IS CONTAGIOUS"Have You Infected Anyone Today?
[Interest] Worldwide Pants
THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING
Roy Collette and his brother-in-law have been exchanging the same pairof pants as a Christmas present for 11 years - and each time the packagegets harder to open. This year the pants came wrapped in a car mashedinto a 3-foot cube. The trousers are in the glove compartment of a 1974Gremlin. Now Collette's plotting his revenge - if he can get them out.
It all started when Collette received a pair of moleskin trousers fromhis brother-in-law, Larry Kunkel of Bensenville, Ill. Kunkel's motherhad given her son the britches when he was a college student. He worethem a few times, but they froze stiff in cold weather and he didn'tlike them. So he gave them to Collette. Collette, who called themoleskins "miserable", wore them three times, then wrapped them up andgave them back to Kunkel for Christmas the next year.
The friendly exchange continued routinely until Collette twisted thepants tightly, stuffed them into a 3-foot-long, 1-inch wide tube andgave them back to Kunkel.
The next Christmas, Kunkel compressed the pants into a 7-inch square,wrapped them with wire and gave the "bale" to Collette.
Not to be outdone, the next year Collette put the pants into a 2-foot-square crate filled with stones, nailed it shut, banded it with steeland gave the trusty trousers back to Kunkel.
The brothers agreed to end the caper if the trousers were damaged. Butthey were as careful as they were clever.
Kunkel had the pants mounted inside an insulated window that had a20-year guarantee and shipped them off to Collette.
Collette broke the glass, recovered the trousers, stuffed them into a5-inch coffee can and soldered it shut. The can was put in a 5-galloncontainer filled with concrete and reinforcing rods and given to Kunkelthe following Christmas.
Two years ago, Kunkel installed the pants in a 225-pound home-made steelashtray made from 8-inch steel casings and etched Collette's name on theside. Collette had trouble retrieving the treasured trousers, butsucceeded without burning them with a cutting torch.
Last Christmas, Collette found a 600-pound safe and hauled it to ViraconInc. in Owatonna, where the shipping department decorated it with redand green stripes, put the pants inside and welded the safe shut. Thesafe was then shipped to Kunkel, who is the plant manager for Viracon'soutlet in Bensenville.
Last week, the pants were trucked to Owatonna, 55 miles south ofMinneapolis, in a drab green, 3-foot cube that once was a car with95,000 miles on it. A note attached to the 2,000-pound scrunched caradvised Collette that the pants were inside the glove compartment."This will take some planning," Collette said. "I will definitely getthem out. I'm confident." But he's waiting until January to think abouthow to recover the bothersome britches.
"Wait until next year," he warned. "I'm on the offensive again."
Roy Collette and his brother-in-law have been exchanging the same pairof pants as a Christmas present for 11 years - and each time the packagegets harder to open. This year the pants came wrapped in a car mashedinto a 3-foot cube. The trousers are in the glove compartment of a 1974Gremlin. Now Collette's plotting his revenge - if he can get them out.
It all started when Collette received a pair of moleskin trousers fromhis brother-in-law, Larry Kunkel of Bensenville, Ill. Kunkel's motherhad given her son the britches when he was a college student. He worethem a few times, but they froze stiff in cold weather and he didn'tlike them. So he gave them to Collette. Collette, who called themoleskins "miserable", wore them three times, then wrapped them up andgave them back to Kunkel for Christmas the next year.
The friendly exchange continued routinely until Collette twisted thepants tightly, stuffed them into a 3-foot-long, 1-inch wide tube andgave them back to Kunkel.
The next Christmas, Kunkel compressed the pants into a 7-inch square,wrapped them with wire and gave the "bale" to Collette.
Not to be outdone, the next year Collette put the pants into a 2-foot-square crate filled with stones, nailed it shut, banded it with steeland gave the trusty trousers back to Kunkel.
The brothers agreed to end the caper if the trousers were damaged. Butthey were as careful as they were clever.
Kunkel had the pants mounted inside an insulated window that had a20-year guarantee and shipped them off to Collette.
Collette broke the glass, recovered the trousers, stuffed them into a5-inch coffee can and soldered it shut. The can was put in a 5-galloncontainer filled with concrete and reinforcing rods and given to Kunkelthe following Christmas.
Two years ago, Kunkel installed the pants in a 225-pound home-made steelashtray made from 8-inch steel casings and etched Collette's name on theside. Collette had trouble retrieving the treasured trousers, butsucceeded without burning them with a cutting torch.
Last Christmas, Collette found a 600-pound safe and hauled it to ViraconInc. in Owatonna, where the shipping department decorated it with redand green stripes, put the pants inside and welded the safe shut. Thesafe was then shipped to Kunkel, who is the plant manager for Viracon'soutlet in Bensenville.
Last week, the pants were trucked to Owatonna, 55 miles south ofMinneapolis, in a drab green, 3-foot cube that once was a car with95,000 miles on it. A note attached to the 2,000-pound scrunched caradvised Collette that the pants were inside the glove compartment."This will take some planning," Collette said. "I will definitely getthem out. I'm confident." But he's waiting until January to think abouthow to recover the bothersome britches.
"Wait until next year," he warned. "I'm on the offensive again."
Thursday, December 28, 2006
[Interest] Meowy Catmas
On the subject of holiday humor, I think you should not walk, but RUN to the stores and pick up your own copy of Catmas Carols by Laurie Loughlin, which is a tiny and adorable book for singers and cat lovers alike. We got one as an early Christmas gift, and I think our favorite is this one -
======================================
WRECK THE HALLS
Wreck the halls with two cats running,
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
Fur goes flying, lamps get done in,
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
Tumbling swiftly down the stairway,
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
Woe to those who get in their way!
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
======================================
WRECK THE HALLS
Wreck the halls with two cats running,
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
Fur goes flying, lamps get done in,
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
Tumbling swiftly down the stairway,
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
Woe to those who get in their way!
Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la
[Humor] The Stamp Act
SPECIAL DELIVERY
A woman goes to the Post Office to buy Stamps for her holiday greetings. She says to the clerk, “May I have 50 Christmas stamps.”
They're available in different amounts for regular mail, post cards, air mail, etc. So the Clerk says, “What denomination?”
The woman says, “God help us, has it come to this? Give me 6 Catholic, 12 Baptist, 10 Lutheran and 22 Presbyterian.”
A woman goes to the Post Office to buy Stamps for her holiday greetings. She says to the clerk, “May I have 50 Christmas stamps.”
They're available in different amounts for regular mail, post cards, air mail, etc. So the Clerk says, “What denomination?”
The woman says, “God help us, has it come to this? Give me 6 Catholic, 12 Baptist, 10 Lutheran and 22 Presbyterian.”
[Interest] A PC Wish For You
Politically Correct, and Legally Binding Holiday wishes......
Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit our best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all . . .
A N D
A fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2000, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great, (not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country or is the only "AMERICA" in the western hemisphere,) and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, or sexual preference of the wishee.
(By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms. This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferrable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.
This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.)
Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit our best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all . . .
A N D
A fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2000, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great, (not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country or is the only "AMERICA" in the western hemisphere,) and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, or sexual preference of the wishee.
(By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms. This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferrable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.
This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year, or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.)
[Humor] In The Chips
Ladies’ WildBy Robert Benchley
In the exclusive set (no diphtheria cases allowed) in which I travel, I am known as a heel in the matter of parlor games. I will drink with them, wrassle with them and, now and again, leer at the ladies, but when they bring out the bundles of pencils and the pads of paper and start putting down all the things they can think of beginning with “W,” or enumerating each other’s bad qualities on a scale of 100 (no hard-feeling results, mind you – just life-long enmity), I tip-toe noisily out of the room and say: “The heck with you.”
For this reason, I am not usually included in any little games that may be planned in advance. If they foresee an evening of “Consequences” coming over them, they whisper “Get Benchley out of the house. Get him a horse to ride, or some beads to string – anything to get him out of the way.” For, I forgot to tell you, not only am I a non-participant in parlor games, but I am a militant non-participant. I heckle from the sidelines. I throw stones and spit at the players. Hence the nickname: “Sweet Old Bob,” or sometimes just the initials.
One night last summer, I detected, from the general stir among the ladies and more effete gents, that I was being eased out of the house. This meant that the gaming was about to begin. But instead of the usual clatter of pencils among the croupiers, I saw someone sneaking in with a tray of poker chips. They almost had me out the door when I discovered what was up.
“Well, so long, Bob,” they said. “Good bowling to you.”
“What’s this?” I came back into the room. “Are those poker chips?”
“Sure, they’re poker chips. It’s all right to play poker, isn’t it? The reform administration’s gone out.”
I assumed a hurt air. In fact, I didn’t have to assume it. I was hurt.
“I don’t suppose I’m good enough to play poker with you,” I said. “All I’m good enough for is to furnish the liquor and the dancing girls.”
“Why, we thought you didn’t like games. You always act like such a gol-darned heel whenever a game is suggested.”
“My dear people,” I said, trying to be calm, “there are games and games. ‘Twenty Questions’is one game, if you will, but poker – why, poker is a man’s game. It’s my dish. I’m an old newspaperman, you know. Poker is the breath of life to a newspaperman.” (As a matter of fact, I never played poker once when I was on a newspaper, and was never allowed to do more than kibitz at the Thanatopsis games of Broun, Adams, Kaufman, and that bunch, but poker is still my favorite game in a small way, or at least it was.)
Then there was a great scrambling to get me a chair, and sell me chips. “Old Bob’s going to play!” was the cry. “Old Bob likes poker!” People came in from the next room to see what the commotion was, and one woman said that, if I was going to play, she had a headache. (I had ruined a game of “Who Am I?” for her once by blowing out a fuse from the coat-closet.)
As for me, I acted the part to the hilt. I took off my coat, unbuttoned my vest so that just the watch-chain connected it, lighted my pipe, and kept my hat on the back of my head.
“This is the real poker costume,” I said. “The way we used to play it down on the old Trib. There ought to be a City News ticker over in the corner to make it seem like home.”
“I’m afraid he’s going to be too good for us,” said one of the more timid ladies. “We play for very small stakes, you know.”
“The money doesn’t matter,” I laughed. “It’s the game. And anyway,” I said modestly, “I haven’t played for a long time. You’ll probably take me good.” (I wish now that I had made book on that prediction.)
It was to be Dealer’s Choice, which should have given me a tip-off right there, with three women at the table, one the dealer.
“This,” she announced, looking up into space as if for inspiration, “is going to be ‘Hay Fever’.”
“I beg pardon,” I said, leaning forward.
“‘Hay Fever’,” explained one of the men. “The girls like it. One card up, two down, the last two up. One-eyed Jacks, sevens, and nines wild. High-low.”
“I thought this was going to be poker,” I said.
“From then on, you play it just like regular poker,” said the dealer.
From then on! My God! Just like regular poker!
Having established myself as an old poker-fan, I didn’t want to break down and cry at the very start, so I played the hand through. I say I “played” it. I sat looking at my cards, peeking now and then just to throw a bluff that I knew what I was doing. One-eyed Jacks, sevens, and nines wild, I kept saying that to myself, and pulling very hard at my pipe. After a minute of owlish deliberation, I folded.
The next hand was to be “Whistle Up Your Windpipe,” another one which the girls had introduced into the group and which the men, weak-kneed sissies that they were, had allowed to become regulation. This was seven-card stud, first and last cards up, deuces, treys, and red-haired Queens wild, high-low-and-medium. I figured out that I had a very nice straight, bet it as I would have bet a straight in the old days, and was beaten to eleven dollars and sixty cents by a royal straight flush. Amid general laughter, I was told that an ordinary straight in these games is worth no more than a pair of sixes in regular poker. A royal straight flush usually wins. Well, it usually won in the old days, too.
By the time the deal came around to me, my pipe had gone out and I had taken my hat off. Between clenched teeth I announced: “And this, my friends, is going to be something you may not have heard of. This is going to be old-fashioned draw poker, with nothing wild.” The women had to have it explained to them, and remarked that they didn’t see much fun in that. However, the hand was played. Nobody had anything (in comparison to what they had been having in the boom days) and nobody bet. The hand was over in a minute and a half, amid terrific silence.
That was the chief horror of this epidemic of “Whistle Up Your Windpipe,” “Beezy-Weezy,” and “Mice Afloat.” It made old-fashioned stud seem tame, even to me. Every time it came to me, I elected the old game, just out of spite, but nobody’s heart was in it. I became the spoil-sport of the party again, and once or twice I caught them trying to slip the deal past me, as if by mistake. Even a round of jack-pots netted nothing in the way of excitement, and even when I won one on a full house, there was no savour to the victory, as I had to explain to the women what a full house was. They thought that I was making up my own rules. Nothing as small as a full house had ever been seen in the game.
The Big Newspaper Man was taken for exactly sixty-one dollars and eight cents when the game broke up at four A.M. Two of the women were the big winners. They had finally got it down to a game where everything was wild but the black nines, and everyone was trying for “low.”
From now on I not only walk out on “Twenty Questions” and “Who Am I?” but, when there are ladies present (God bless them!) I walk out on poker. And a fine state of affairs it is when an old newspaperman has to walk out on poker!
Robert BenchleyFrom “After 1903 – What?”Harper & Brothers Publishers
In the exclusive set (no diphtheria cases allowed) in which I travel, I am known as a heel in the matter of parlor games. I will drink with them, wrassle with them and, now and again, leer at the ladies, but when they bring out the bundles of pencils and the pads of paper and start putting down all the things they can think of beginning with “W,” or enumerating each other’s bad qualities on a scale of 100 (no hard-feeling results, mind you – just life-long enmity), I tip-toe noisily out of the room and say: “The heck with you.”
For this reason, I am not usually included in any little games that may be planned in advance. If they foresee an evening of “Consequences” coming over them, they whisper “Get Benchley out of the house. Get him a horse to ride, or some beads to string – anything to get him out of the way.” For, I forgot to tell you, not only am I a non-participant in parlor games, but I am a militant non-participant. I heckle from the sidelines. I throw stones and spit at the players. Hence the nickname: “Sweet Old Bob,” or sometimes just the initials.
One night last summer, I detected, from the general stir among the ladies and more effete gents, that I was being eased out of the house. This meant that the gaming was about to begin. But instead of the usual clatter of pencils among the croupiers, I saw someone sneaking in with a tray of poker chips. They almost had me out the door when I discovered what was up.
“Well, so long, Bob,” they said. “Good bowling to you.”
“What’s this?” I came back into the room. “Are those poker chips?”
“Sure, they’re poker chips. It’s all right to play poker, isn’t it? The reform administration’s gone out.”
I assumed a hurt air. In fact, I didn’t have to assume it. I was hurt.
“I don’t suppose I’m good enough to play poker with you,” I said. “All I’m good enough for is to furnish the liquor and the dancing girls.”
“Why, we thought you didn’t like games. You always act like such a gol-darned heel whenever a game is suggested.”
“My dear people,” I said, trying to be calm, “there are games and games. ‘Twenty Questions’is one game, if you will, but poker – why, poker is a man’s game. It’s my dish. I’m an old newspaperman, you know. Poker is the breath of life to a newspaperman.” (As a matter of fact, I never played poker once when I was on a newspaper, and was never allowed to do more than kibitz at the Thanatopsis games of Broun, Adams, Kaufman, and that bunch, but poker is still my favorite game in a small way, or at least it was.)
Then there was a great scrambling to get me a chair, and sell me chips. “Old Bob’s going to play!” was the cry. “Old Bob likes poker!” People came in from the next room to see what the commotion was, and one woman said that, if I was going to play, she had a headache. (I had ruined a game of “Who Am I?” for her once by blowing out a fuse from the coat-closet.)
As for me, I acted the part to the hilt. I took off my coat, unbuttoned my vest so that just the watch-chain connected it, lighted my pipe, and kept my hat on the back of my head.
“This is the real poker costume,” I said. “The way we used to play it down on the old Trib. There ought to be a City News ticker over in the corner to make it seem like home.”
“I’m afraid he’s going to be too good for us,” said one of the more timid ladies. “We play for very small stakes, you know.”
“The money doesn’t matter,” I laughed. “It’s the game. And anyway,” I said modestly, “I haven’t played for a long time. You’ll probably take me good.” (I wish now that I had made book on that prediction.)
It was to be Dealer’s Choice, which should have given me a tip-off right there, with three women at the table, one the dealer.
“This,” she announced, looking up into space as if for inspiration, “is going to be ‘Hay Fever’.”
“I beg pardon,” I said, leaning forward.
“‘Hay Fever’,” explained one of the men. “The girls like it. One card up, two down, the last two up. One-eyed Jacks, sevens, and nines wild. High-low.”
“I thought this was going to be poker,” I said.
“From then on, you play it just like regular poker,” said the dealer.
From then on! My God! Just like regular poker!
Having established myself as an old poker-fan, I didn’t want to break down and cry at the very start, so I played the hand through. I say I “played” it. I sat looking at my cards, peeking now and then just to throw a bluff that I knew what I was doing. One-eyed Jacks, sevens, and nines wild, I kept saying that to myself, and pulling very hard at my pipe. After a minute of owlish deliberation, I folded.
The next hand was to be “Whistle Up Your Windpipe,” another one which the girls had introduced into the group and which the men, weak-kneed sissies that they were, had allowed to become regulation. This was seven-card stud, first and last cards up, deuces, treys, and red-haired Queens wild, high-low-and-medium. I figured out that I had a very nice straight, bet it as I would have bet a straight in the old days, and was beaten to eleven dollars and sixty cents by a royal straight flush. Amid general laughter, I was told that an ordinary straight in these games is worth no more than a pair of sixes in regular poker. A royal straight flush usually wins. Well, it usually won in the old days, too.
By the time the deal came around to me, my pipe had gone out and I had taken my hat off. Between clenched teeth I announced: “And this, my friends, is going to be something you may not have heard of. This is going to be old-fashioned draw poker, with nothing wild.” The women had to have it explained to them, and remarked that they didn’t see much fun in that. However, the hand was played. Nobody had anything (in comparison to what they had been having in the boom days) and nobody bet. The hand was over in a minute and a half, amid terrific silence.
That was the chief horror of this epidemic of “Whistle Up Your Windpipe,” “Beezy-Weezy,” and “Mice Afloat.” It made old-fashioned stud seem tame, even to me. Every time it came to me, I elected the old game, just out of spite, but nobody’s heart was in it. I became the spoil-sport of the party again, and once or twice I caught them trying to slip the deal past me, as if by mistake. Even a round of jack-pots netted nothing in the way of excitement, and even when I won one on a full house, there was no savour to the victory, as I had to explain to the women what a full house was. They thought that I was making up my own rules. Nothing as small as a full house had ever been seen in the game.
The Big Newspaper Man was taken for exactly sixty-one dollars and eight cents when the game broke up at four A.M. Two of the women were the big winners. They had finally got it down to a game where everything was wild but the black nines, and everyone was trying for “low.”
From now on I not only walk out on “Twenty Questions” and “Who Am I?” but, when there are ladies present (God bless them!) I walk out on poker. And a fine state of affairs it is when an old newspaperman has to walk out on poker!
Robert BenchleyFrom “After 1903 – What?”Harper & Brothers Publishers
[Interest] Letter To Santa
THE WRITE STUFF
Dear Santa,>>>> I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my >> children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, >> sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade >> tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list >> out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with >> my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room >> between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in thenext 18 years.>>>> Here are my Christmas wishes:>>>> I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple,>> which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze;>> but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy >> aisle in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine >> somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.>>>> If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint >> resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a >> television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking >> animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the >> crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.>>>> On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Go,Mom!">> to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight >> and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use>> of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks >> chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off yourbrother,">> because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range >> and can only be heard by the dog.>>>> If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough>> time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the >> luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being >> served in a Styrofoam container.>>>> If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to >> brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare >> ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would >> be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house >> without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organizedcrime family.>>>> Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my >> feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. >> Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and>> come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies>> on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.>>>> Yours Always, MOM>>>> P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep >> my children young enough to believe in Santa.
Dear Santa,>>>> I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my >> children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, >> sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade >> tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list >> out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with >> my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room >> between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in thenext 18 years.>>>> Here are my Christmas wishes:>>>> I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple,>> which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze;>> but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy >> aisle in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine >> somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.>>>> If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint >> resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a >> television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking >> animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the >> crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.>>>> On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Go,Mom!">> to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight >> and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use>> of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks >> chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off yourbrother,">> because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range >> and can only be heard by the dog.>>>> If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough>> time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the >> luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being >> served in a Styrofoam container.>>>> If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to >> brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare >> ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would >> be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house >> without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organizedcrime family.>>>> Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my >> feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. >> Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and>> come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies>> on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.>>>> Yours Always, MOM>>>> P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep >> my children young enough to believe in Santa.
[Interest] New York, Never Forget
USS NEW YORK
It was built with 24 tons of scrap steel from the World Trade Center.It is the fifth in a new class of warship - designed for missions that include special operations against terrorists. It will carry a crew of 360 sailors and 700 combat-ready Marines to be delivered ashore by helicopters and assault craft. Steel from the World Trade Center was melted down in a foundry in Amite, LA to cast the ship's bow section. When it was poured into the molds on Sept. 9, 2003, "those big rough steelworkers treated it with total reverence," recalled Navy Capt. Kevin Wensing, who was there. "It was a spiritual moment for everybody there." Junior Chavers, foundry operations manager, said that when the trade center steel first arrived, he touched it with his hand and the "hair on my neck stood up." "It had a big meaning to it for all of us," he said. "They knocked us down. They can't keep us down. We're going to be back." The ship's motto? "Never Forget"
It was built with 24 tons of scrap steel from the World Trade Center.It is the fifth in a new class of warship - designed for missions that include special operations against terrorists. It will carry a crew of 360 sailors and 700 combat-ready Marines to be delivered ashore by helicopters and assault craft. Steel from the World Trade Center was melted down in a foundry in Amite, LA to cast the ship's bow section. When it was poured into the molds on Sept. 9, 2003, "those big rough steelworkers treated it with total reverence," recalled Navy Capt. Kevin Wensing, who was there. "It was a spiritual moment for everybody there." Junior Chavers, foundry operations manager, said that when the trade center steel first arrived, he touched it with his hand and the "hair on my neck stood up." "It had a big meaning to it for all of us," he said. "They knocked us down. They can't keep us down. We're going to be back." The ship's motto? "Never Forget"
[Interest] Puppy Love
Puppies for sale A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of little boy. "Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies." "Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money." The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine pence. Is that enough to take a look?" "Sure," said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle. "Here, Dolly!" he called. Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up.... "I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would." With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands." With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy. "How much?" asked the little boy. "No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love." The world is full of people who need someone who understands.
[Spirited] Do You See Him?
Do You See Him? by Max Lucado It's Christmas Night. The house is quiet. Even the crackle is gone from the fireplace. The last of the carolers appeared on the ten o’clock news. The last of the apple pie was eaten by my brother-in-law. And the last of the Christmas albums have been stored away having dutifully performed their annual rendition of chestnuts, white Christmases, and red-nosed reindeers. It’s Christmas night. The midnight hour has chimed and I should be asleep, but I’m awake. I’m kept awake by one stunning thought. The world was different this week. It was temporarily transformed. The magical dust of Christmas glittered on the cheeks of humanity ever so briefly, reminding us of what is worth having and what we were intended to be. We forgot our compulsion with winning, wooing, and warring. We put away our ladders and ledgers, we hung up our stopwatches and weapons. We stepped off our race tracks and roller coasters and looked outward toward the star of Bethlehem. It’s the season to be jolly because, more than at any other time, we think of him. More than in any other season, his name is on our lips. And the result? For a few precious hours, he is beheld. Christ the Lord. Those who pass the year without seeing him, suddenly see him. People who have been accustomed to using his name in vain, pause to use it in praise. Eyes, now free of the blinders of self, marvel at his majesty. All of a sudden he’s everywhere. In the grin of the policeman as he drives the paddy wagon full of presents to the orphanage. In the twinkle in the eyes of the Taiwanese waiter as he tells of his upcoming Christmas trip to see his children. In the emotion of the father who is too thankful to finish the dinner table prayer. He’s in the tears of the mother as she welcomes home her son from overseas. He’s in the heart of the man who spent Christmas morning on skid row giving away cold baloney sandwiches and warm wishes. And he’s in the solemn silence of the crowd of shopping mall shoppers as the elementary school chorus sings “Away in a Manger.” Emmanuel. He is with us. God came near. It’s Christmas night. In a few hours the cleanup will begin—lights will come down, trees will be thrown out. Size 36 will be exchanged for size 40, eggnog will be on sale for half price. Soon life will be normal again. December’s generosity will become January’s payments and the magic will begin to fade. But for the moment, the magic is still in the air. Maybe that’s why I’m still awake. I want to savor the spirit just a bit more. I want to pray that those who beheld him today will look for him next August. And I can’t help but linger on one fanciful thought: If he can do so much with such timid prayers lamely offered in December, how much more could he do if we thought of him every day? From God Came Near Copyright 1987, Max Lucado
[Adult] Christmas With Louise
Christmas with LouiseThis is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest tofind out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. This won first prize.As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over hisfireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fillthem. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be truebecause every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings wereoverflowing, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses andwent in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those thingsat Walmart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've neverbeen in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I wasthere an hour saying things like, "What does this do? You're kidding me!Who would buy that?"Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy astandard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passengerin my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. Findingwhat I wanted was difficult. Love Dolls come in many different models.The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do thingsI'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for LovableLouise. She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a dolltook a huge leap of imagination.On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise cameto life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during thewee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled thedangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate somecookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Iwent home, and giggled for a couple of hours.The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to hishouse and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left thedog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back andbark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over forhe traditional Christmas dinner.My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door."Whatthe hell is that?" she asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's adoll." "Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I hadseveral candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are herclothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran" Jaysaid, to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Whydoesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why wouldI? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of theambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to meand said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him shewas Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel,talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was thenthat we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died,who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made anoise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurchedfrom the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap infront of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandparan across the room, fell to his knees, and began administeringmouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair andwet his pants. Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in thecar. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination todecide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise hadsuffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored herto perfect health!
Monday, December 11, 2006
[Humor] Play It As It Lays
PLAY A ROUND
A man takes the day off work and decides to go out golfing. He is on the second hole when he notices a frog sitting next to the green. He thinks nothing of it and is about to shoot when he hears, "Ribbit 9 Iron." The man looks around and doesn't see anyone. Again, he hears, "Ribbit 9 Iron." He looks at the frog and decides to prove the frog wrong, puts the club away, and grabs a 9 iron. Boom! He hits it 10 inches from the cup. He is shocked. He says to the frog, "Wow that's amazing. You must be a lucky frog, eh?" The frog replies, "Ribbit Lucky frog." The man decides to take the frog with him to the next hole. "What do you think, frog?" the man asks. "Ribbit 3 wood." The guy takes out a 3 wood and, Boom! Hole in one. The man is befuddled and doesn't know what to say. By the end of the day, the man golfed the best game of golf in his life and asks the frog, "OK where to next?" The frog replies, "Ribbit Las Vegas .. "They go to Las Vegas and the guy says, "OK frog, now what?" The frog says, "Ribbit Roulette." Upon approaching the roulette table, the man asks, "What do you think I should bet?" The frog replies, "Ribbit $3000, black 6." Now, this is a million-to-one shot to win, but after the golf game the man figures what the heck. Boom! Tons of cash comes sliding back across the table. The man takes his winnings and buys the best room in the hotel. He sits the frog down and says, "Frog, I don't know how to repay you You've won me all this money and I am forever grateful." The frog replies, "Ribbit KissMe." He figures why not, since after all the frog did for him, he deserves it. With a kiss, the frog turn s into a gorgeous 15-year-old girl. "And that,
Your Honor, is how the girl ended up in my room. So help me God or my name is not
William Jefferson Clinton."
A man takes the day off work and decides to go out golfing. He is on the second hole when he notices a frog sitting next to the green. He thinks nothing of it and is about to shoot when he hears, "Ribbit 9 Iron." The man looks around and doesn't see anyone. Again, he hears, "Ribbit 9 Iron." He looks at the frog and decides to prove the frog wrong, puts the club away, and grabs a 9 iron. Boom! He hits it 10 inches from the cup. He is shocked. He says to the frog, "Wow that's amazing. You must be a lucky frog, eh?" The frog replies, "Ribbit Lucky frog." The man decides to take the frog with him to the next hole. "What do you think, frog?" the man asks. "Ribbit 3 wood." The guy takes out a 3 wood and, Boom! Hole in one. The man is befuddled and doesn't know what to say. By the end of the day, the man golfed the best game of golf in his life and asks the frog, "OK where to next?" The frog replies, "Ribbit Las Vegas .. "They go to Las Vegas and the guy says, "OK frog, now what?" The frog says, "Ribbit Roulette." Upon approaching the roulette table, the man asks, "What do you think I should bet?" The frog replies, "Ribbit $3000, black 6." Now, this is a million-to-one shot to win, but after the golf game the man figures what the heck. Boom! Tons of cash comes sliding back across the table. The man takes his winnings and buys the best room in the hotel. He sits the frog down and says, "Frog, I don't know how to repay you You've won me all this money and I am forever grateful." The frog replies, "Ribbit KissMe." He figures why not, since after all the frog did for him, he deserves it. With a kiss, the frog turn s into a gorgeous 15-year-old girl. "And that,
Your Honor, is how the girl ended up in my room. So help me God or my name is not
William Jefferson Clinton."
[Interest] Worldwide Pants
THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING
Roy Collette and his brother-in-law have been exchanging the same pairof pants as a Christmas present for 11 years - and each time the packagegets harder to open. This year the pants came wrapped in a car mashedinto a 3-foot cube. The trousers are in the glove compartment of a 1974Gremlin. Now Collette's plotting his revenge - if he can get them out.
It all started when Collette received a pair of moleskin trousers fromhis brother-in-law, Larry Kunkel of Bensenville, Ill. Kunkel's motherhad given her son the britches when he was a college student. He worethem a few times, but they froze stiff in cold weather and he didn'tlike them. So he gave them to Collette. Collette, who called themoleskins "miserable", wore them three times, then wrapped them up andgave them back to Kunkel for Christmas the next year.
The friendly exchange continued routinely until Collette twisted thepants tightly, stuffed them into a 3-foot-long, 1-inch wide tube andgave them back to Kunkel.
The next Christmas, Kunkel compressed the pants into a 7-inch square,wrapped them with wire and gave the "bale" to Collette.
Not to be outdone, the next year Collette put the pants into a 2-foot-square crate filled with stones, nailed it shut, banded it with steeland gave the trusty trousers back to Kunkel.
The brothers agreed to end the caper if the trousers were damaged. Butthey were as careful as they were clever.
Kunkel had the pants mounted inside an insulated window that had a20-year guarantee and shipped them off to Collette.
Collette broke the glass, recovered the trousers, stuffed them into a5-inch coffee can and soldered it shut. The can was put in a 5-galloncontainer filled with concrete and reinforcing rods and given to Kunkelthe following Christmas.
Two years ago, Kunkel installed the pants in a 225-pound home-made steelashtray made from 8-inch steel casings and etched Collette's name on theside. Collette had trouble retrieving the treasured trousers, butsucceeded without burning them with a cutting torch.
Last Christmas, Collette found a 600-pound safe and hauled it to ViraconInc. in Owatonna, where the shipping department decorated it with redand green stripes, put the pants inside and welded the safe shut. Thesafe was then shipped to Kunkel, who is the plant manager for Viracon'soutlet in Bensenville.
Last week, the pants were trucked to Owatonna, 55 miles south ofMinneapolis, in a drab green, 3-foot cube that once was a car with95,000 miles on it. A note attached to the 2,000-pound scrunched caradvised Collette that the pants were inside the glove compartment."This will take some planning," Collette said. "I will definitely getthem out. I'm confident." But he's waiting until January to think abouthow to recover the bothersome britches.
"Wait until next year," he warned. "I'm on the offensive again."
Roy Collette and his brother-in-law have been exchanging the same pairof pants as a Christmas present for 11 years - and each time the packagegets harder to open. This year the pants came wrapped in a car mashedinto a 3-foot cube. The trousers are in the glove compartment of a 1974Gremlin. Now Collette's plotting his revenge - if he can get them out.
It all started when Collette received a pair of moleskin trousers fromhis brother-in-law, Larry Kunkel of Bensenville, Ill. Kunkel's motherhad given her son the britches when he was a college student. He worethem a few times, but they froze stiff in cold weather and he didn'tlike them. So he gave them to Collette. Collette, who called themoleskins "miserable", wore them three times, then wrapped them up andgave them back to Kunkel for Christmas the next year.
The friendly exchange continued routinely until Collette twisted thepants tightly, stuffed them into a 3-foot-long, 1-inch wide tube andgave them back to Kunkel.
The next Christmas, Kunkel compressed the pants into a 7-inch square,wrapped them with wire and gave the "bale" to Collette.
Not to be outdone, the next year Collette put the pants into a 2-foot-square crate filled with stones, nailed it shut, banded it with steeland gave the trusty trousers back to Kunkel.
The brothers agreed to end the caper if the trousers were damaged. Butthey were as careful as they were clever.
Kunkel had the pants mounted inside an insulated window that had a20-year guarantee and shipped them off to Collette.
Collette broke the glass, recovered the trousers, stuffed them into a5-inch coffee can and soldered it shut. The can was put in a 5-galloncontainer filled with concrete and reinforcing rods and given to Kunkelthe following Christmas.
Two years ago, Kunkel installed the pants in a 225-pound home-made steelashtray made from 8-inch steel casings and etched Collette's name on theside. Collette had trouble retrieving the treasured trousers, butsucceeded without burning them with a cutting torch.
Last Christmas, Collette found a 600-pound safe and hauled it to ViraconInc. in Owatonna, where the shipping department decorated it with redand green stripes, put the pants inside and welded the safe shut. Thesafe was then shipped to Kunkel, who is the plant manager for Viracon'soutlet in Bensenville.
Last week, the pants were trucked to Owatonna, 55 miles south ofMinneapolis, in a drab green, 3-foot cube that once was a car with95,000 miles on it. A note attached to the 2,000-pound scrunched caradvised Collette that the pants were inside the glove compartment."This will take some planning," Collette said. "I will definitely getthem out. I'm confident." But he's waiting until January to think abouthow to recover the bothersome britches.
"Wait until next year," he warned. "I'm on the offensive again."
[Spirited] Share The Love
Weblog: Is Ashley Smith's Hostage Story a Testimonial?More than a story of faith and hope, this hostage practiced the Sermon on the Mount.Compiled by Rob Moll posted 03/16/2005 02:15 p.m.It was a "textbook case" of how to deal with a hostage-taker. Ashley Smith talked shooting suspect Brian Nichols into turning himself in. After several hours in her apartment, Nichols allowed Smith to leave, and she immediately called the police."To avoid this thing becoming even more crazy, it wasn't a question of who was right or wrong, but how do we get this thing taken care of, managed, so nobody else gets killed?" Robert Benjamin, a veteran conflict negotiator in Portland, Oregon told The Christian Science Monitor. "And her deft touch, unstudied as it was, was quite frankly a moment of brilliance."Reading Smith's account of the story, it's clear that sharing her faith with Nichols did much to help them both get through the situation safely.We went to my room. And I asked him if I could read.He said, "What do you want to read?""Well, I have a book in my room." So I went and got it. I got my Bible. And I got a book called The Purpose-Driven Life.I turned it to the chapter that I was on that day. It was Chapter 33. And I started to read the first paragraph of it. After I read it, he said, "Stop, will you read it again?"I said, "Yeah. I'll read it again."So I read it again to him.It mentioned something about what you thought your purpose in life was. What were you—what talents were you given? What gifts were you given to use?And I asked him what he thought. And he said, "I think it was to talk to people and tell them about you."As Nichols began to open up to Smith, she told him about her life. Smith's husband was murdered four years ago. "As a teen, she was arrested for shoplifting and was on probation for a year. Later came arrests for drunken driving, speeding, and battery," according to CBS News.Two days before, Smith moved into the apartment where Nichols held her hostage. She works two jobs and recently completed a medical assistant course. Smith was returning from a store at 2:30 a.m. when Nichols held a gun to her back and forced her into the apartment. But by 9 that morning Smith convinced Nichols to allow her to pick up her daughter from AWANA, according to Baptist Press.Smith said she wanted to gain his trust, and the two talked for several hours. She even made him pancakes for breakfast. "He said he thought that I was an angel sent from God," Smith said. "And that I was his sister and he was my brother in Christ. And that he was lost and God led him right to me to tell him that he had hurt a lot of people. And the families—the people—to let him know how they felt, because I had gone through it myself."Smith even showed Nichols her husband's autopsy report. "That's what a lot of people will have to go through now, because of what you've done," she told him. "You need to turn yourself in. No one else needs to die, and you're going to die if you don't."She helped Nichols believe in something beyond his immediate situation. "After I started to read to him, he saw—I guess he saw my faith and what I really believed in. And I told him I was a child of God and that I wanted to do God's will. I guess he began to want to."Over breakfast, Smith said, "I just talked with him a little more … we pretty much talked about God … what his reason was, why he made it out of there.I said, "Do you believe in miracles? Because if you don't believe in miracles—you are here for a reason. You're here in my apartment for some reason. You got out of that courthouse with police everywhere, and you don't think that's a miracle? You don't think you're supposed to be sitting here right in front of me listening to me tell you, you know, your reason here?"I said, "You know, your miracle could be that you need to—you need to be caught for this. You need to go to prison and you need to share the Word of God with them, with all the prisoners there."Smith has already been offered book and film deals. H.B. London, vice president for ministry outreach/pastoral ministry at Focus on the Family said, "Every Christian organization in the country will want to tell her story" as an example of "how God can sustain a person in a time when most people would have crumbled.""This is, I would say, one of the more dramatic, if not the most dramatic [testimonials] I'm aware of," Vicki Cessna, spokeswoman for Zondervan told the Los Angeles Times. "Obviously the book has had far-reaching, life-changing influences for millions of people. We're just honored that this in any way helped facilitate a positive outcome for Ashley.""She epitomizes the many Americans clinging to the edge of the middle class, working multiple jobs, making mistakes, finding loss and redemption, and enduring tragedy, all while looking for wisdom and comfort in self-help books and Scripture," writes The Christian Science Monitor. The paper continues:Smith's more humanist reaction reminds some observers of Terry Waite, who negotiated the release of two Anglican priests from Libya, and of hotel manager Paul Rusesabagina, who saved hundreds of lives through negotiation during the Rwandan genocide, in a story that inspired the movie Hotel Rwanda. In those cases, common men became forces to reckon with by virtue of their astute perceptions of human behavior. Authenticity and self-knowledge, not brute force, are key attributes to solving the stickiest standoffs, negotiators say."Our culture trains us to make an argument to overwhelm the other side, not to listen to what the other person is saying," says Mr. Benjamin in Portland. In contrast, "[Smith] practiced negotiation at its most noble, artful way."So, before the SWAT team surrounded the apartment complex with guns, Smith had defused the situation with love. In fact, when Nichols left her, untied, with ready access to guns, and when Smith followed Nichols in her own car while he ditched his stolen truck, Smith declined to take the opportunity to free herself. Instead she hoped to convince Nichols to turn himself in without hurting anyone else. "For a country used to getting things done with overwhelming force, it was a humbling lesson in Peacemaking 101," writes the Monitor.Her account makes a great illustration of how God works in our lives, and it ought to be told, as London suggests. Hopefully it doesn't become a clichéd Hollywood story of faith, courage, and hope, because it is a beautiful illustration of the Sermon on the Mount.Jesus says, "You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. … I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."As Dallas Willard says, Jesus was a pretty smart guy, huh?Copyright © 2005 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.In Christ,Eric SwenssonHoly Trinity, New Rochellewww.holytrinitynewrochelle.org914.632.4692Study tel. 203.323.3051"Now, O Lord GOD, You are God, and Your words are truth, and You have promised this good thing to Your servant. -2 Samuel 7:28
[Humor] Sure Shot
CAN'T TOUCH THISAging Mildred was a 93 year old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband, Earl. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death.Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out Earl's old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart, since it was so badly broken in the first place. Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and burden someone, she called her doctor's office to inquire as to just exactly where the heart would be on a woman.The doctor said, " Your heart would be just below your left breast."Later that night, Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee.
[Spirited] We Are Family
A mother living in a tenement house went shopping for groceries. While she was in the store, a fire engine raced by. She wondered, “Is the fire engine going to my home?” She had left her baby asleep at home. Forgetting about the groceries, she ran toward home.Her building had fire hoses aimed at it. It was burning like a matchbox. Rushing to the chief, she cried out, “My baby is up there.” He shouted back to her, “It would be suicide for anyone to go up there now; it’s too late.”A young fireman standing by volunteered, “Chief, I have a little baby at home, and if my house were on fire, I’d want someone to go up to save my baby. I’ll go.” The young fireman climbed the stairs; he got the baby, threw her into the rescue net, and just as he did, the house collapsed and he was burned to death.The scene is 20 years later at a graveside. A 20-year-old woman is sobbing softly. Before her, at the head of this grave, is the statue of a fireman. A man stopping by asks respectfully, “Was that your father?”She replies, “No.”“Was that your brother?”“No,” she says. “That’s the man who died for me.”On Good Friday, we remember the One who died for us on that cross so many years ago. On Easter, we celebrate His resurrection from the dead, victorious over the grave, providing The Way for our salvation!Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed!- firstIMPRESSIONS, Volume 5.12.Live for God, on purpose, for Christ died for you, on purpose,to pay for your sins and mine!
[Humor] Color Me Blonde
Paint It, YellowA blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as a 'handy-woman' and started canvassing a nearby well-to-do neighborhood. She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any odd jobs for her to do."Well, you can paint my porch," he said, "How much will you charge me?"The blonde, after looking about, responded, "How about $50?"The man agreed and told her that the paint and other materials that she might need were in the garage.The man's wife, inside the house, heard the conversation and said to her husband, "Does she realize that the porch goes all the way around the house?"The man replied, "She should; she was standing on it. Do you think she's dumb?""No", replied the wife, "I guess I'm guilty of being influenced by all the 'dumb blonde' joke emails we've been receiving."A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money."You're finished already?" the husband asked."Yes," the blonde replied, "and I had paint left over, so I gave it two coats."Impressed, the man reached into his pocket for the $50.00 and handed it to her."And by the way," the blonde added, "it's not a Porch, it's a Lexus."
[Spirited] Priceless
By now you have probably seen the catchy television commercials for MasterCard. They start by identifying some things that people can buy with their MasterCard, then show a moment that is priceless and end by saying, “There are some things money can’t buy, for everything else there’s MasterCard.”For example, in one such commercial there is a man and his young son headed to the baseball park. The commercial shows the dad buying his son a hot dog and you hear the words, “Hot dog at the big league game...$3.00.”The next scene shows the dad buying a game program and the words, “Program...$6.00.” Then, one of those large, orange hands with the fingers forming a #1 is shown and you hear something like, “Large, orange hand...$15.00.” The commercial finishes by showing the father explaining some important aspect of the game to his son, who is listening intently as he looks up at his father with excitement in his eyes, “Meaningful conversation between a father and a son... priceless.”“There are some things money can’t buy, for everything else there’s MasterCard.”Friends, I’m not unlike those agencies promoting their favorite credit card. I’m here to advertise. You see, my life is a commercial for others to see. I’m a card carrying representative for the Master’s Card. That’s right, the MASTER’s CARD. Let me tell you about it. There are no finance charges, no payments due. My bill has already been covered...it’s a prepaid deal. I couldn’t afford the price, so Jesus stepped in and paid it for me. My Name is written on the card for all to see.It is accessible twenty-four hours a day from anywhere in the world. The MASTER’s CARD has so many benefits it’s hard to list them all. Let me share some of them with you...you might want to apply for a personal card yourself. Just for starters there is UNLIMITED GRACE. That’s right, there is no preset limit to the amount of grace you receive from the MASTER’s CARD. Have you been looking for love in all the wrong places? Then, look no farther than the MASTER’s CARD. It offers the greatest rate on love that has ever been offered.The MASTER’s CARD gives you access to many “members only” benefits. Want real joy despite the difficulties of life? Apply for the MASTER’s CARD. Want a lasting peace? Apply for the MASTER’s CARD.Want real joy despite the difficulties of life? Apply for the MASTER’s CARD. Want a lasting peace? Apply for the MASTER’s CARD. Looking for something you can always rely on in a jam? The MASTER’s CARD is perfect for you.Another great thing about the MASTER’s CARD is that it never expires. Once you’re a member, you’re a member for life...eternal life, that is. Membership has its privileges, you know.How do you receive the MASTER’s CARD. Dial 1-800-ROMANS10:9 “if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” Jesus is standing by right now to take your call. Don’t delay. This great offer won’t last forever. Peace, joy and hope: Invaluable. Faith, contentment and assurance: Inestimable. Salvation: Priceless.There are some things money can’t buy. For those, there’s the Master’s Card. Christian, why not be an advertisement for the MASTER’s CARD. Let your life be a commercial today for Jesus Christ.
[Spirited] Get Out Of Here
YOU PUT THE DEVIL OUT, BUT YOU LET HIM LEAVE HIS BAGS.You got out of a bad relationship because it was bad, but you are still resentful, and angry(you let the devil leave his bags).You got out of financial debt, but you still can't control the desire to spend on frivolous things (you let the devil leave his bags).You got out of a bad habit or addiction, but you still long to try it just one more time(you let the devil leave his bags).You said, I forgive you, but you can't seem to forget and have peace with that person(you let the devil leave his bags).You told your unequally yoked mate that it was over, but you still continue to call(you let the devil leave his bags)You got out of that horribly oppressive job, but you're still trying to sabotage the company after you've left(you let the devil leave his bags).You cut off the affair with that married man/woman, but you still lust after him/her(you let the devil leave his bags).You broke off your relationship with that hurtful, abusive person, but you are suspicious and distrusting of every new person you meet(you let the devil leave his bags).You decided to let go of the past hurts from growing up in an unstable family environment, yet you believe you are unworthy of love from others and you refuse to get attached to anyone(you let the devil leave his bags).You moved your membership from a church where the pastor did not allow prayer and fasting to a church where prayer and fasting is a regular part of the worship but, you worry about what those at the other church think about you for leaving(you let the devil leave his bags).When you put the Devil out,Please make sure he takes his bags.Happiness keeps you sweet,Trials keep you strong,Sorrows keep you human,Failures keeps you humble,Success keeps you glowing,But only God the Father,God the Son andGod the Holy Ghost keeps you going!In 2005, Let the Devil take his bags with him!!!!!!>> Author: Unknown
[Humor\ Flu Shots
How To Avoid The FLUEat right! Make sure you get your daily dose of fruits and veggies.Take your vitamins and bump up your vitamin C.Get plenty of exercise because exercise helps build your immune system.Walk for at least an hour a day, go for a swim, take the stairs instead of the elevator, etc.Wash your hands often. If you can't wash them, keep a bottle of antibacterial stuff around.Get lots of fresh air. Open windows whenever possible.Get plenty of rest.Try to eliminate as much stress from your life as you can.- OR -Take the doctor's office approach.Think about it...When you go for a shot, what do they do first?Clean your arm with alcohol.Why?Because alcohol kills germs.So......I walk to the liquor store (exercise).I put lime in my Corona (fruit).Celery in my Bloody Mary (veggie).Drink outdoor at the patio bar (fresh air).Get drunk, tell jokes, laugh (relieve stress).Then pass out (rest).The way I see it...If you keep your alcohol levels up,flu germs can't get you!!!!Cheers! It's five oclock somewhere!* Copyright (c) Original Artist.....A Thingos Presentation (c)Whimsical & Wacky Wits - Compiled for your personal enjoyment by Pat -Compilation Copyright (c) wacky wits.com
[Interest] Apron Strings
GRANDMA'S APRONThe principle use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, but along with that, it served as a holder for removing hot pans from the oven.It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.From the chicken-coop the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.When company came those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids.And when the weather was cold, grandma wrapped it around her arms.Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables.After the peas had been shelled it carried out the hulls.In the fall the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that "old-time apron" that served so many purposes.Send this to those who would know, and love the story about Grandma's aprons.REMEMBER THIS!"Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool.Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw".
[Spirited] You'll Never Walk Alone
U.S. Soldier Adopts Disabled BoyMarch 24, 2005 — In 2003, while volunteering at an orphanage for disabled children in Baghdad, National Guard Capt. Scott Southworth met Ala'a, a young Iraqi boy who could not walk because of cerebral palsy.Now Ala'a, nearly 10, lives with Southworth in Wisconsin, and a doctor recently gave the pair great news: Ala'a soon may be able to walk.'Back to Reality'On his tour of duty in Iraq, Southworth, now 32, was helping to train Iraqi police, a difficult job in a war zone and the triple-digit Baghdad heat."At the end of those days, we wanted to do something that would bring us back to reality," Southworth told ABC News' Charles Gibson on "Good Morning America." "It was Sept. 6, 2003, that we first went into the orphanage."Ala'a, who learned English at the orphanage after being abandoned as a 4-year-old, dragged himself across the floor to greet the American.The two soon became inseparable. Southworth loved spending time with Ala'a and watching him discover new things. For Ala'a, it was the first time someone made him feel special.After a few months, affection, comfort and a bond began to grow and Ala'a started to call Southworth "baba," which means "daddy" in Arabic.'Spiritual Decision'When Southworth learned that Ala'a soon would be transferred to a government hospital for the disabled where he would not receive adequate care, he made a life-altering decision to become Ala'a's legal foster father and bring him back to America."For me it was a spiritual decision," Southworth said.Southworth, a Christian, said he could not justify leaving Ala'a behind. He imagined himself one day trying to get into heaven, and trying to explain why he left behind the young Christian Iraqi boy with cerebral palsy."Every excuse I came up with was just that: It was an excuse," Southworth said.But the adoption process would not be easy, and Southworth's company was heading home.Back in the United States, it took six months of legal battles before Southworth could return to Baghdad with a humanitarian visa for Ala'a."Operation rescue Ala'a is in play, and we are off to Baghdad," Southworth said in a video diary he recorded at the time.On the trip, Southworth worried that the Iraqi government might not allow Ala'a out of the country. But while in Jordan he got the news he was waiting for: Ala'a would be able to go to America.'Soccer Dad'Soon, the pair was reunited and a new family was born. A sports car Southworth had often thought about while deployed in Iraq remains in storage at his parents' house. Now, he drives a minivan to accommodate Ala'a's wheelchair."All my friends are making fun of me now," Southworth said. "They're calling me a soccer dad. … It's got a great stereo system in it, though."In fact, Southworth said he recently heard the already bilingual Ala'a singing along, in Italian, to opera as they cruised around in the minivan.Ala'a now has been in the United States for two months. The bachelor and the abandoned boy are happily adjusting to their new lives as father and son, and they recently got encouraging news."He went to a cerebral palsy expert last week on Monday and he got incredible news," Southworth said. "After a long examination the doctor said, I believe he's going to walk. … He's hopefully going to be walking as early as this fall."In Christ,Eric SwenssonHoly Trinity, New Rochellewww.holytrinitynewrochelle.org914.632.4692Study tel. 203.323.3051"Now, O Lord GOD, You are God, and Your words are truth, and You have promised this good thing to Your servant. -2 Samuel 7:28
[Interest] Dust Unto Dust
Dusting"A house becomes a home when you can write "I love you" on the furniture."I can't tell you how many countless hours that I have spent CLEANING! I used to spend at least 8 hours every weekend making sure things were just perfect - "in case someone came over". Then I realized one day that no-one came over; they were all out living life and having fun!Now, when people visit, I find no need to explain the "condition" of my home.. They are more interested in hearing about the things I've been doing while I was away living life and having fun. If you haven't figured this out yet, please heed this advice.Life is short. Enjoy it!Dust if you must,but wouldn't it be betterto paint a picture,write a letter,bake a cakeor plant a seed,ponder the differencebetween want and need?Dust if you must,but there's not much time,with rivers to swimand mountains to climb,music to hear andbooks to read,friends to cherishand life to lead.Dust if you must,but the world's out therewith the sun in your eyes,the wind in your hair,a flutter of snow,a shower of rain.This day will notcome around again.Dust if you must,but bear in mind,old age will comeand it's not kind.And when you go -and go you must -you, yourselfwill make more dust!Share this with all the wonderful people in your life!I JUST DID.It's not what you gather,but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.
[Adult] Get A Job
AT YOUR SERVICEA guy walks into the local welfare office, marches straight up to the>counter and says, "Hi . . . You know, I just HATE drawing welfare. I'd>really rather have a job".>>>The social worker behind the counter says, "Your timing is excellent.We>just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a>chauffeur/bodyguard for his nymphomaniac daughter. You'll have to drive>around in his Mercedes, but he'll supply all of your clothes.>>Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You'll be expected to>escort her on her overseas holiday trips. You'll have a two bedroom>apartment above the garage. The starting salary is $200,000 a year".>>>The guy says, "You're bullsh***ing me!">>>The social worker says, "Yeah, well, you started it."
[Humor] Travel Is Broadening
G'DAY, MATE!These are from potential visitors. They were posted on anAustralian Tourism Website and the answers are the actualresponses by the website officials, who obviously have asnide sense of humor.Q: Does it ever get windy in Australia? I have never seenit rain on TV, so how do the plants grow? (UK).A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit aroundwatching them die.Q: Will I be able to see kangaroos in the street? (USA)A: Depends how much you've been drinking.Q: I want to walk from Perth to Sydney - can I follow therailroad tracks? (Sweden)A: Sure, it's only three thousand miles, take lots of water.Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Australia? (Sweden)A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.Q: Are there any ATMs (cash machines) in Australia? Can yousend me a list of them in Brisbane, Cairns, Townsville andHervey Bay? (UK)A: What did your last slave die of?Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Australia? (USA)A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south ofEurope. Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of thePacific which does not... oh forget it. Sure, the hipporacing is every Tuesday night in Kings Cross. Come naked.Q: Which direction is North in Australia? (USA)A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when youget here and we'll send the rest of the directions.Q: Can I bring cutlery into Australia? (UK)A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA)A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country borderingGer-man-y, which is...oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna BoysChoir plays every Tuesday night in Kings Cross, straightafter the hippo races. Come naked.Q: Can I wear high heels in Australia? (UK)A: You are a British politician, right?Q: Are there supermarkets in Sydney and is milk availableall year round? (Germany)A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of vegan hunter/gatherers. Milk is illegal.
[Spirited] Hello, God
Hello God, I called tonightTo talk a little whileI need a friend who'll listenTo my anxiety and trial.You see, I can't quite make itThrough a day just on my own...I need your love to guide me,So I'll never feel alone.I want to ask you please to keep,My family safe and sound.Come and fill their lives with confidenceFor whatever fate they're bound.Give me faith, dear God, to faceEach hour throughout the day,And not to worry over thingsI can't change in any way.I thank you God, for being homeAnd listening to my call,For giving me such good adviceWhen I stumble and fall.Your number, God, is the only oneThat answers every time.I never get a busy signal,Never had to pay a dime.So thank you, God, for listeningTo my troubles and my sorrow.Good night, God, I love You, too,And I'll call again tomorrow!
]Spirited] Love Is In The Air
A GIRL AND A BOYA girl asked a boy if he thought she was pretty.He said...no.She asked him if he would want to be with her forever....and he said no.She then asked him if she were to leave would he cry, and once again he replied with a no.She had heard enough. As she walked away, tears were streaming down her face.The boy grabbed her arm and said....You're not pretty you're beautiful.I don't want to be with you forever.I NEED to be with you forever!And I wouldn't cry if you walked away...I'd die...WASN'T THAT A SWEET THOUGHT!
[Interest] The Root Of All Evil
MoneyIt can buy a houseBut not a homeIt can buy a clockBut not timeIt can buy you a positionBut not respectIt can buy you a bedBut not sleepIt can buy you a bookBut not knowledgeIt can buy you medicineBut not healthIt can buy you bloodBut not lifeSo you see money isn't everythingAnd it often causes pain and sufferingI tell you this because I am your friendAnd as your friend I want toTake away your pain and suffering!!SoSend me all your moneyAnd I will suffer for you!Cash only please! After all, what are friends for, huh??Let me know if you need my address
[Adult] Your Tax Dollars At Play
A guy goes to the Government to apply for a job.The interviewer asks him, "Have you been in the service?""Yes" he says. "I was in Viet Nam for three years."The interviewer says, "That will give you extra points toward employment."The interviewer then asks, "Are you disabled in any way?"The guy says, "Yes 100%... a mortar round exploded near me and blew my testicles off."The interviewer tells the guy, "O.K. I can hire you right now.The hours are from8:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. You can start tomorrow.Come in at around 10:00 A.M."The guy is puzzled and says, "If the hours are from 8:00 A.M. to 4:00P.M.,then whydo you want me to come in at 10:00 A.M.?""This is a government job" the interviewer says."For the first two hours we sit aroundjust scratching our balls . . .no point in your coming in for that!"
[Humor] Beep Beep
If my body were a car...If my body were a car, this is the timeI would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model.I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finishand my paint job is getting a little dull, but that's not the worst of it.My fenders are too wide to be considered stylish.They were once as sleek as a little MG;now they look more like my mother's old Buick.My seat cushions have split open at the seams.My seats are sagging. Seat belts?I gave up all belts when Ben & Jerry's opened a shop in my neighborhood.Air bags? Forget it. The only bags I have these days are under my eyes.Not counting the saddlebags, of course.I have soooooo many miles on my odometer.Sure, I've been many places and seen many things,but when's the last time an appraiser factored life experiences against depreciation?My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close.My reaction is not as graceful as it once was.I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather.My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed.I'm burning fuel at an inefficient rate.But here's the worst of it - almost every time I sneeze or cough,my radiator seems to leak.... and when I get too much gasI backfire out the exhaust pipe !
[Spirited] Handy
I HOLD IN MY HANDThis is beautiful -and it issurely worth making the 5 finger prayer a part of our lives.1. Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for thoseclosest to you. They are the easiest to remember. To pray for our loved ones is,as C. S.Lewis once said, a "sweet duty."2. The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those who teach,instruct and heal. This includes teachers, doctors, and ministers. They need supportand wisdom in pointing others in the right direction. Keep them in your prayers.3. The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our leaders.Pray for thepresident, leaders in business and industry, and administrators. These people shapeour nation and guide public opinion. They need God's guidance.4. The fourth finger is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the factthat this isour weakest finger; as any piano teacher will testify. It should remindus to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. They need your prayersday and night.You cannot pray too much for them.5. And lastly comes our little finger; the smallest finger of all whichis where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. As the Bible says,"The least shall be the greatest among you." Your pinkie should remind you to prayfor yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, yourown needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively.
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