tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21359490895315444762024-03-13T12:12:52.353-05:00Frog DroolWhen I was much, MUCH younger, a friend of my sister’s found an Easter egg decal of “Teddly Toad”. Thinking it funny she passed it on to me, and the name more or less stuck. Apparently she and her friends couldn’t find toads though, because they started giving me frogs, lots of frogs. I had plastic frogs, glass frogs, wooden frogs, and metal frogs; I had frogs! I still haven’t decided if being identified with frogs is a good thing.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.comBlogger222125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-80618261724622064952017-06-13T10:24:00.001-05:002017-06-13T10:24:07.266-05:00Gracelyn & Gracie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-srbzydWdc1Q/WUADlQQwq0I/AAAAAAAAE28/lIEngT2bCToqH2DX1kRbLZToBUwKQoRwwCHM/s1600/20170416_114940-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-srbzydWdc1Q/WUADlQQwq0I/AAAAAAAAE28/lIEngT2bCToqH2DX1kRbLZToBUwKQoRwwCHM/s640/20170416_114940-1.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-50331135409093239042017-06-13T10:22:00.001-05:002017-06-13T10:22:51.358-05:00There's Something Wrong with the Cat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y89nxinApYs/WUADSdz08TI/AAAAAAAAE24/WHq-tWDsOZQ0iISSQ-FHct_4ZrXQd-_HwCHM/s1600/20170603_213244-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y89nxinApYs/WUADSdz08TI/AAAAAAAAE24/WHq-tWDsOZQ0iISSQ-FHct_4ZrXQd-_HwCHM/s640/20170603_213244-1.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-88373363580053404992017-04-20T11:39:00.001-05:002017-04-20T11:40:39.093-05:00No Time to Explain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HXuowXCiaDY/WPjkMsarVgI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/_o5QR0NeIf4/s1600/FB_IMG_1439586981428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HXuowXCiaDY/WPjkMsarVgI/AAAAAAAAEzQ/_o5QR0NeIf4/s640/FB_IMG_1439586981428.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-78398340746415236212014-08-02T16:02:00.001-05:002017-04-15T17:02:59.078-05:00Reigning Hide and Seek Champion<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vQ_bXqyyF8Q/U91R28pUckI/AAAAAAAADXI/BWF2DUr3DiY/s1600/10553367_10152324428851275_3064802373836986204_n-739379.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vQ_bXqyyF8Q/U91R28pUckI/AAAAAAAADXI/BWF2DUr3DiY/s320/10553367_10152324428851275_3064802373836986204_n-739379.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_6043076279435293250" /></a></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-82268793923946913192013-11-23T21:00:00.001-06:002014-09-19T14:27:40.325-05:00This may be why he's a thirty pound cat<div class="mobile-photo">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uW6g5UJiJrQ/UpFrw9groWI/AAAAAAAACjg/KREQGVseUTI/s1600/IMG954503-719457.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uW6g5UJiJrQ/UpFrw9groWI/AAAAAAAACjg/KREQGVseUTI/s320/IMG954503-719457.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5949655071622668642" /></a></div>
This may be why he's a thirty pound cat.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-33423030124413666622012-12-13T21:47:00.001-06:002012-12-13T21:47:38.074-06:00Do Some Good: Clouds by: Zach Sobiech<p><a href="http://www.dsgchallenge.com/2012/12/clouds-by-zach-sobiech.html">http://www.dsgchallenge.com/2012/12/clouds-by-zach-sobiech.html</a></p> Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-38146457611646623362012-08-25T06:11:00.000-05:002012-08-25T06:11:00.705-05:00When to Start Cussing
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>This
was sent to me from a coworker...</b></span></span></span></strong></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span><strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A
6 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs in their bedroom. The 6 year
old asks, "You know what? I think it's about time we started
cussing." The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year
old continues, "When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna
say something with hell and you say something with ass."</b></span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span><strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.</b></span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span><strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>When
the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he
wants for breakfast, he replies, "Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll
have some Cheerios.</b></span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span><strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>WHACK!
He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up,
and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot
pursuit, slapping his rear with every step. His mom locks him in his
room and shouts, "You can stay there until I let you out!"</b></span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span><strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>She
then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4 year old and asks with a
stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast, young
man?"</b></span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span><strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"I
don't know," he blubbers, "but you can bet your fat ass it
won't be Cheerios!"</b></span></span></span></strong><span style="color: #010101;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">
</span></span></span>
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<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-42069643006163687132012-06-09T22:15:00.004-05:002012-06-09T22:16:24.438-05:00Problems<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><i>From my usual source...</i> </span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Everyone
concentrates on the problems we're having in Our Country lately:</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />Illegal
immigration, hurricane recovery, alligators attacking people in
Florida... Not me -- I concentrate on solutions for the problems --
it's a win-win situation. Dig a moat the length of the Mexican
border. Send the dirt to New Orleans to raise the level of the
levees. Put the Florida alligators in the moat along the Mexican
border. <br /><br />Any other problems you would like for me to solve
today? <br /><br />Think about this: <br /><br />1. Cows <br />2. The
Constitution <br />3. The Ten Commandments <br /><br />COWS: <br />Is it just
me, or does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow
epidemic our government could track a single cow, born in Canada
almost three years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the
state of Washington? And, they tracked her calves to their stalls.
But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering
around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow. <br /><br />THE
CONSTITUTION: <br />They keep talking about drafting a Constitution for
Iraq. Why don't we just give them ours? It was written by a lot of
really smart guys, it has worked for over 200 years, and we're not
using it anymore. <br /><br />THE 10 COMMANDMENTS: <br />The real reason
that we can't have the Ten Commandments posted in a courthouse is
this: you cannot post 'Thou Shalt Not Steal,' 'Thou Shalt Not Commit
Adultery,' and 'Thou Shall Not Lie' in a building full of lawyers,
judges and politicians, </span></span></span></span>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-58329065710460955832012-06-09T22:10:00.000-05:002012-06-09T22:16:54.388-05:00Testicle Therapy<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Two
women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her
ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.
The ball hit one of the men.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">He
immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the
ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.</span> </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">The
woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize.
'Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical Therapist and I know I could
relieve your pain if you'd allow me,' she told him.</span> </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">'Oh,
no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes,' the man
replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still
clasping his hands there at his groin.</span> </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">At
her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently
took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and
put her hands inside.</span> <span style="font-family: sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">She
administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and
asked, 'How does that feel'?</span> </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;"><span style="font-family: sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: sans-serif;">He
replied: 'It feels great, but I still think my thumb's broken!'</span> </span></span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-73618325133542236752012-05-16T22:04:00.001-05:002013-02-16T10:13:23.156-06:00Okay... Me!<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='400' height='326' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxFjivp7MX8A6i2dT5iMMBsxjUyQoowb32mVh2rYdElUlQwyQhug0FpWRcTnuuCCR7z1bkDdv6YJOBG9BHIaQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Okay... me!
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-11381169360446054802012-05-16T22:01:00.001-05:002013-02-16T10:14:18.734-06:00My Wife<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='400' height='326' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw3xww1mNJquQ_2Khr0xuZmyaENWpZgTIJZM5_a-RPjbNNk6foyacIuQSwvTIlaZ_J6gxG3jSdrS4zgXnp10w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-65445325302461229022012-04-15T18:04:00.004-05:002012-04-15T18:05:48.866-05:00Tequila<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">From my usual source...</span></span></i></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">A fellow walks into a bar, notices a very large jar on the counter, and sees that it's filled to the brim with $10 bills. He guesses there must be more than ten thousand dollars in it. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">He approaches the bartender and asks, 'What's with the money in the jar?' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">'Well.......you pay $10 and if you pass three tests, you get all the money and the keys to a brand new Lexus.' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">The man certainly isn't going to pass this up. And so he asks, 'What are the three tests?' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">'You must pay first... Those are the rules,' says the bartender. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">So, after thinking it over a while, the man gives the bartender the $10 and the bartender drops it into the jar. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">'Okay,' the bartender says, 'Here's what you need to do: </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">First - You have to drink a whole quart of tequila, in a minute or less, and you can't make a face while doing it.. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">Second - There's a pit bull chained in the back with a bad tooth. You have to remove that tooth with your bare hands. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">Third - There's a 90-year old lady upstairs who has never had sex... You have to take care of that problem!' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">The man is stunned. 'I know I paid my $10, but I'm not an idiot! I won't do it! You'd have to be nuts to drink a quart of tequila, and then do all those other things...' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">'Your call,' says the bartender... 'But, your money stays where it is.' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
As time goes on, and the man has a few more drinks, he finally says, 'Where's the damn tequila?' </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
He grabs the bottle with both hands and drinks it as fast as he can. Tears stream down both cheeks... but he doesn't make a face, and he did it in fifty-eight seconds! </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">Next, he staggers out the back door, where he sees the pit bull chained to a pole. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">Soon the people inside the bar hear growling , biting, and screaming sounds... then nothing but silence! </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
Just when they think that the man surely must be dead, he staggers back into the bar, with his shirt ripped open and there are scratches and he's bleeding all over his body. </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">He says, 'Now where's that old woman with the bad tooth?'<br />
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><i>The moral to the story:</i></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></span> </div><div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i>Listen carefully to the directions,</i></span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i>and don't</i></span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i>trust your judgment</i></span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i>when alcohol is involved!</i></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-24941832487596014402012-04-08T06:41:00.000-05:002012-04-08T06:41:30.605-05:00I No Longer Feel Stupid 5<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uzRzCyaFqn8/T4F5ALx_-DI/AAAAAAAAAbw/9o0Sb6DjfXo/s1600/Handlebars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uzRzCyaFqn8/T4F5ALx_-DI/AAAAAAAAAbw/9o0Sb6DjfXo/s400/Handlebars.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BRuPMBdM0ZM/T4F5BhGTE1I/AAAAAAAAAb4/6GqNQFjX6T4/s1600/Bike+Tires.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BRuPMBdM0ZM/T4F5BhGTE1I/AAAAAAAAAb4/6GqNQFjX6T4/s400/Bike+Tires.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BRuPMBdM0ZM/T4F5BhGTE1I/AAAAAAAAAb4/6GqNQFjX6T4/s1600/Bike+Tires.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rwXoc0bdoY8/T4F5Jg9_gFI/AAAAAAAAAcI/poZbRQraIEs/s1600/boat+landing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rwXoc0bdoY8/T4F5Jg9_gFI/AAAAAAAAAcI/poZbRQraIEs/s400/boat+landing.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-14447927841464075822012-04-04T15:43:00.002-05:002012-04-04T15:43:33.084-05:00Some Old Men Think Fast<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>From my usual source...</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">An elderly man in Louisiana had owned a large farm for several years. <br />
<br />
He had a large pond in the back. It was properly shaped for swimming, so he fixed it up nice with picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple, and peach trees. <br />
<br />
One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there for a while, and look it over. <br />
<br />
He grabbed a five-gallon bucket to bring back some fruit. <br />
<br />
As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee. <br />
<br />
As he came closer, he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny-dipping in his pond. <br />
<br />
He made the women aware of his presence and they all went to the deep end. <br />
<br />
One of the women shouted to him, 'we're not coming out until you leave!' <br />
<br />
The old man frowned, 'I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked or make you get out of the pond naked.' <br />
<br />
Holding the bucket up he said, 'I'm here to feed the alligator...' <br />
<br />
Some old men can still think fast. </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-13241922637838772932012-04-02T18:56:00.000-05:002012-04-02T18:56:47.522-05:00I no longer feel stupid 4<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TxNgDAbTKQ4/T3o8Uuc8fNI/AAAAAAAAAbY/NoMKCxcJh0s/s1600/coffee+carafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TxNgDAbTKQ4/T3o8Uuc8fNI/AAAAAAAAAbY/NoMKCxcJh0s/s400/coffee+carafe.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U8EIhk4W57g/T3o8Wgn8_GI/AAAAAAAAAbg/GccL3a3oDj0/s1600/carseat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U8EIhk4W57g/T3o8Wgn8_GI/AAAAAAAAAbg/GccL3a3oDj0/s400/carseat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1VvtGNYIb8k/T3o8Y1BPNKI/AAAAAAAAAbo/j2nPsMXDNH4/s1600/go.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1VvtGNYIb8k/T3o8Y1BPNKI/AAAAAAAAAbo/j2nPsMXDNH4/s400/go.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-37029646760966988422012-03-31T07:38:00.000-05:002012-03-31T07:38:14.989-05:00Ear Infection<div style="border: none; font-weight: normal; padding: 0in; text-decoration: none;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">From one of my staff...</span></span></i></span></div><div style="border: medium none; font-weight: normal; padding: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span> </div><div style="border: medium none; font-weight: normal; padding: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">They always ask at the doctor's office why you are there, and you have to answer in front of others what's wrong and sometimes it is embarrassing.<br />
<br />
There's nothing worse than a Doctor's Receptionist who insists you tell her what is wrong with you in a room full of other patients. <br />
<br />
I know most of us have experienced this, and I love the way this gentleman handled it.<br />
<br />
A 65-year-old man walked into a crowded waiting room and approached the desk.<br />
<br />
The Receptionist said, 'Yes sir, what are you seeing the Doctor for today?'<br />
<br />
'There's something wrong with my dick', he replied.<br />
<br />
The receptionist became irritated and said, 'You shouldn't come into a crowded waiting room and say things like that. '<br />
<br />
'Why not, you asked me what was wrong and I told you,' he said.<br />
<br />
The Receptionist replied; 'Now you've caused some embarrassment in this room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong with your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the Doctor in private.'<br />
<br />
The man replied, 'You shouldn't ask people questions in a roomful of strangers, if the answer could embarrass anyone. The man walked out, waited several minutes, and then re-entered.<br />
<br />
The Receptionist smiled smugly and asked, 'Yes?'<br />
<br />
'There's something wrong with my ear,' he stated.<br />
<br />
The Receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken her advice.. 'And what is wrong with your ear, Sir?'<br />
<br />
'I can't piss out of it,' he replied.<br />
<br />
The waiting room erupted in laughter...<br />
<br />
<br />
Mess with seniors and you're going to Lose</span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-24715226612786146182012-03-31T07:29:00.000-05:002012-03-31T07:29:09.415-05:00I no longer feel stupid 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hzROaIgu0EQ/T3b4M4LE0TI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Xjnp1rxlrKs/s1600/apple+computer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hzROaIgu0EQ/T3b4M4LE0TI/AAAAAAAAAbA/Xjnp1rxlrKs/s400/apple+computer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X4bZekw5xHs/T3b4PYOzlMI/AAAAAAAAAbI/KB4O0zIjffU/s1600/CDrom+in+Floppy+Drive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X4bZekw5xHs/T3b4PYOzlMI/AAAAAAAAAbI/KB4O0zIjffU/s400/CDrom+in+Floppy+Drive.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AYl5JX0UD1Y/T3b4THc2iKI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/tIqnt4WehHg/s1600/white+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AYl5JX0UD1Y/T3b4THc2iKI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/tIqnt4WehHg/s400/white+out.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-87373035165746516142012-03-30T14:53:00.001-05:002012-03-31T07:38:49.839-05:00Replacement Windows<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0.19in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;"><i>My wife forwarded this to me; she had received it from a coworker... </i></span></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0.19in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">Last year a blonde replaced all the windows in her house with that expensive double-pane energy efficient kind, and today, she got a call from the contractor who installed them. He was complaining that the work had been completed a whole year ago and that she still hadn't paid for them. </span></span> </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0.19in;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">Hellloooo,............just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I am automatically stupid. So, I told him just what his fast talking sales guy had told me last year, that in ONE YEAR these windows would pay for themselves! Helllooooo? It's been a year! I told him. </span></span> </div><div style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman,serif;">There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally just hung up. He never called back. I bet he felt like an idiot.</span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-25521673449446507582012-03-28T14:23:00.000-05:002012-03-28T14:23:06.703-05:00I no longer feel stupid 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GRCtGCZVqH8/T3Nk4q4A2xI/AAAAAAAAAao/4XoafWDq6VA/s1600/House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GRCtGCZVqH8/T3Nk4q4A2xI/AAAAAAAAAao/4XoafWDq6VA/s400/House.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukXeH02RkoA/T3Nk7M8HPHI/AAAAAAAAAaw/DwcFXRETsEo/s1600/Truckbed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukXeH02RkoA/T3Nk7M8HPHI/AAAAAAAAAaw/DwcFXRETsEo/s400/Truckbed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hby_EX6XlGc/T3Nk887Kj4I/AAAAAAAAAa4/qD3suMHvyeA/s1600/Box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Hby_EX6XlGc/T3Nk887Kj4I/AAAAAAAAAa4/qD3suMHvyeA/s400/Box.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-33031475193411462012-03-28T14:20:00.000-05:002012-03-28T14:20:23.410-05:00I no longer feel stupidThe next several pictures were sent to me by my sister and her husband...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nXkyMU4Lrto/T3NkH-CzqKI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/byaf04MeX5c/s1600/Carwash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nXkyMU4Lrto/T3NkH-CzqKI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/byaf04MeX5c/s400/Carwash.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2iZQRr7FuY8/T3NkKcfwaAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/EZ1LXo9Xfak/s1600/Carpurse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2iZQRr7FuY8/T3NkKcfwaAI/AAAAAAAAAaY/EZ1LXo9Xfak/s400/Carpurse.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VcvwgTtIP7E/T3NkNv_WGsI/AAAAAAAAAag/nnjkZrsu0Gc/s1600/Car+Groceries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VcvwgTtIP7E/T3NkNv_WGsI/AAAAAAAAAag/nnjkZrsu0Gc/s400/Car+Groceries.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-5253799892983271382012-03-18T17:20:00.007-05:002012-03-18T18:30:03.709-05:00Wild Eyes<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M9pAGMPNu6E/T2Zfr8XEIoI/AAAAAAAAAZE/NU_W2U2oNJU/s1600/Resampled952012-03-189515-49-5995601_0001_0001-730931.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721365585162674818" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M9pAGMPNu6E/T2Zfr8XEIoI/AAAAAAAAAZE/NU_W2U2oNJU/s320/Resampled952012-03-189515-49-5995601_0001_0001-730931.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-2812988578591569672012-03-18T17:20:00.006-05:002012-03-18T18:29:19.898-05:00I'm ready for my close up Mr. DeMille<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nUR6ISw4qpY/T2Zfn-_uuiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/2oQRj7stMKk/s1600/Resampled952012-03-189516-04-0895416-715169.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721365517150632482" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nUR6ISw4qpY/T2Zfn-_uuiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/2oQRj7stMKk/s320/Resampled952012-03-189516-04-0895416-715169.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-59354060287058470262012-03-17T15:05:00.004-05:002012-03-17T19:45:11.987-05:00Gracie the Golden Doodle<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sUMsZRpeZnE/T2Tuk8cb02I/AAAAAAAAAYs/BbJ2seoWtxM/s1600/0317121505-738239.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720959745135465314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sUMsZRpeZnE/T2Tuk8cb02I/AAAAAAAAAYs/BbJ2seoWtxM/s320/0317121505-738239.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-86899827064359426632012-03-17T15:02:00.002-05:002012-03-17T19:41:30.759-05:00My parent's new dog... would that make her my sister?<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NKVodPQfaYo/T2Tt4sVSlxI/AAAAAAAAAYg/Y1p-KZ6Aagw/s1600/0317121457-761317.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720958984896288530" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NKVodPQfaYo/T2Tt4sVSlxI/AAAAAAAAAYg/Y1p-KZ6Aagw/s320/0317121457-761317.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2135949089531544476.post-49202067436317214872012-03-10T17:00:00.003-06:002012-03-17T11:30:09.056-05:00Understanding Engineers<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
<i>I<span style="font-size: small;">'m almost embarrassed to say my my Dad sent this to me, but it's funny...</span></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Understanding Engineers - Take One<br />
<br />
Two engineering students were walking across a university campus when one said, 'Where did you get such a great bike?'<br />
The second engineer replied, 'Well, I was walking along yesterday, minding my own business, when a beautiful woman rode up on this bike, threw it to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, 'Take what you want.'<br />
The second engineer nodded approvingly and said, 'Good choice; the clothes probably wouldn't have fitted you anyway.'<br />
<br />
<br />
Understanding Engineers - Take Two<br />
<br />
To the optimist, the glass is half full. To the pessimist, the glass is half empty. To the engineer, the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.<br />
<br />
<br />
Understanding Engineers - Take Three<br />
<br />
A priest, a doctor, and an engineer were waiting one morning for a particularly slow group of golfers. The engineer fumed, 'What's with those blokes? We must have been waiting for fifteen minutes!'<br />
The doctor chimed in, 'I don't know, but I've never seen such inept golf!'<br />
The priest said, 'Here comes the greens keeper. Let's have a word with him.'<br />
He said, 'Hello, George! What's wrong with that group ahead of us? They're rather slow, aren't they?'<br />
The greens keeper replied, 'Oh, yes. That's a group of blind fire fighters.<br />
They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime.'<br />
The group fell silent for a moment.<br />
The priest said, 'That's so sad. I think I will say a special prayer for them tonight.'<br />
The doctor said, 'Good idea. I'm going to contact my ophthalmologist colleague and see if there's anything he can do for them.'<br />
The engineer said, 'Why can't they play at night?'<br />
<br />
<br />
Understanding Engineers - Take Four<br />
<br />
What is the difference between mechanical engineers and civil engineers?<br />
Mechanical engineers build weapons and civil engineers build targets.<br />
<br />
<br />
Understanding Engineers - Take Five<br />
<br />
Normal people believe that if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Engineers believe that if it ain't broke, it doesn't have enough features yet.<br />
<br />
<br />
Understanding Engineers - Take Six<br />
<br />
An engineer was crossing a road one day, when a frog called out to him and said, 'If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess.'<br />
He bent over, picked up the frog and put it in his pocket.<br />
The frog spoke up again and said, 'If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will stay with you for one week.'<br />
The engineer took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and returned it to the pocket.<br />
The frog then cried out, 'If you kiss me and turn me back into a Princess, I'll stay with you for one week and do ANYTHING you want.'<br />
Again, the engineer took the frog out, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket.<br />
Finally, the frog asked, 'What is the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess, and that I'll stay with you for one week and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?'<br />
The engineer said, 'Look, I'm an engineer. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog, now that's cool.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08152271856424081283noreply@blogger.com0