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A man is driving along a highway and sees a rabbit
jump out across the middle of the road. He swerves to
avoid hitting it, but unfortunately the rabbit jumps
right in front of the car. The driver, a sensitive man
as well as an animal lover, pulls over and gets out to
see what has become of the rabbit.
Much to his dismay, the rabbit is dead. The driver
feels so awful that he begins to cry. A beautiful
blonde woman driving down the highway sees a man
crying on the side of the road and pulls over. She
steps out of the car and asks the man what's wrong.
I feel terrible," he explains, "I accidentally hit
this rabbit and killed it." the blonde women pulls out a spray can. She walks over to the limp,
dead rabbit, bends down, and sprays the contents onto
the rabbit.
The rabbit jumps up, waves its paw at the two of them
and hops of down the road. Ten feet away the rabbit
stops, turns around and waves again, he hops down the
road another 10 feet, turns and waves, hops another
ten feet,turns and waves, and repeats this again and
again and again, until he hops out of sight.
"What is in that can? What did you spray on
that rabbit?" The woman turns the can around so that
the man can read the label.
It says...
"Hair Spray - Restores life to dead hair,
adds permanent wave."

DOH!!!

Games for when we are older

GAMES FOR WHEN WE ARE OLDER

1. Sag, you're It.
2. Hide and go pee.
3. 20 questions shouted into your good ear.
4. Kick the bucket
5. Red Rover, Red Rover, the nurse says Bend Over
6. Musical recliners.
7. Simon says something incoherent.
8. Pin the Toupee on the bald guy

SIGNS OF MENOPAUSE:

1. You sell your home heating system at a yard
sale.
2. You have to write post-it notes with your kids' names
on them.
3. You change your underwear after a sneeze

OLD IS WHEN:

1. Going bra-less pulls all the wrinkles out of your face.

2. You don't care where your spouse goes, just as long as you don't have to go along.

3. Getting a little action means you don't need fiber today.

4. Getting lucky means you find your car in the parking lot.

5. An all-nighter means not getting up to pee!

Thoughts for the weekend

1. Wouldn't it be nice if whenever we messed up our life we could simply press 'Ctr Alt Delete' and start all
over?

2. Just remember, if the world didn't suck, we'd all
fall off.

3. If raising children was going to be easy, it
never would have started with something called labor!

4. Brain cells come and brain cells go, but fat cells live forever.


Ponderisms

1. I used to eat a lot of natural foods until I learned that most people die of natural causes.

2. Garden Rule: When weeding, the best way to
make sure you are removing a
weed and not a valuable plant is to pull
on it. If it comes out of the ground
easily, it is a valuable plant.

3. The easiest way to find something lost around the house is
to buy a replacement.

4. Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.

5. Have you noticed since everyone has a camcorder these days no one talks about seeing UFOs like
they used to?

6. In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it
normal.
7. How is it one careless match can start a forest
fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire

8, Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, 'I think I'll squeeze these dangly things here and drink whatever comes out?'

9. Who was the first person to say, 'See that chicken there? I'm gonna
eat the next thing that comes outta its butt.'
10. If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?

11. Why does your OB-GYN leave the room when you get undressed if he's going to look up there anyway?

12. Do illiterate people get the full effect of Alphabet Soup?

13. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

But Most Of All, Remember

A Good Friend Is Like A Good Bra. Hard to Find, Supportive,
Comfortable, And Always Close To Your Heart!

Ponderings
Can you cry under water

When I was young we used to go skinny dipping
now I just Chunk Dunk

How important does a person have to be before
they are considered assassinated instead of
just murdered

If money doesn't grow on trees why do banks
have branches

Why do you have to put your 2 cents in but it's
only a penny for your thoughts "where's that extra penny going"

Once you are in Heaven do you get stuck with wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity

Dick Cheney and George Bush were having breakfast at the WhiteHoue.
The attractive waitress asks Cheney what he would like , and he replies, "I'd like some oatmeal and some fruit."
And for you Mr. President?
George W. looks up from his menu and replies with his trademark wink and a slight grin.
"How about a quicky this morning?"
"Why, Mr President!" the waitress exclaims,
"How rude!" You're starting to act like President Clinton" and the waitres storms away.
Cheney leans over to Bush and whispers....."It's pronounced 'quiche".

Do you think the Hampshire police should have taken into account the position of the bus tailpipe when designing their advertising campaign?

OMG! That's AWESOME! I'm sure someone paid for that one with their job!

This is a long one but it definitely made me laugh and I think some of you might like it too...be warned though, it's a little bit gross.

Confessions of a gum swallower...

This is the confession of a gum-swallower. I admit it. For as long as I can remember, I have always swallowed my bubble gum instead of throwing it out.

This used to be a major subject of contention with my mother when I was a child, as she was convinced that the practice would lead to my untimely demise. The gum mass was indigestible according to her, you see, and as such could not pass properly through the gastrointestinal tract. I was at great risk of numerous medical conditions because of this questionable assertion, including "twisted intestines," "stomach pileup," and choking to death on my own vomit after the bubble gum body inevitably attempts to escape through my esophagus, closing the pipes indefinitely on the way out.

Naturally, I never believed a single word the old lady said. I've been a gum-swallower my entire life, right up until my mid-20s. It was only then that I experienced a veritable epiphany of how wise my mother may actually have been.

Several weeks ago, I purchased a fairly large quantity of Dubble Bubble for my daughter's' gum ball machine. The amount of gum I acquired was directly proportional to my own developed taste for the product, since it resembled crack cocaine in addictiveness. After originally buying the pre-filled gum ball machine, I'd proceeded to consume almost the entire contents in just a few short days, and thought I'd better stock up on the stuff if I was to maintain a positive relationship with my young child.

Unfortunately, much like Al Pacino in "Scarface," when confronted with such a sizeable amount of pseudo-cocaine, I attacked it with relish. I practically lived off bubble gum for several days. I couldn't get enough. I ate six, seven, sometimes eight small globes at a time in an attempt to find the perfect mix of synthetic flavors. I studied the texture of chewed gum by placing the most perfect tooth and fingerprint impressions ever taken outside of a crime lab. I watched with fascination as I created drab shades of gray from the most myriad selection of brightly colored items. I was almost a scientist of bubble gum by the end of those few days, you see. And each experiment became yet another lump lying heavy on my stomach.

Alas, I was destined for trouble. After consuming such a vast quantity of bubble gum, certain bodily processes started to become strange. My bowel movements rotated from frequent to nearly constipated for several days. For the life of me, I couldn't predict at what point the need to crap would attack. When I did plop down to plop, both the defecation process and the subsequent wiping would seem almost...

Sticky.

This went on for another day or two. It was only then that an event occurred that would change my philosophy on gum swallowing forever. Perhaps the bolus of evil had lodged itself in my colon somewhere just as my mother claimed it would, or perhaps the passing of such hideousness naturally requires an extended length of time; I fear I will never know the answer. All I know is that during an otherwise perfectly normal evening of watching television and reading a book, the cramps began.

I'm reasonably confident that I know what childbirth feels like now. It felt as though my colon was uncoiling and recoiling itself within my abdomen. I rushed to the bathroom and sat down, expecting a torrent of acidic pain. Ah, if only I'd been so lucky! When the defecation came, it felt as though it came out sideways. My sphincter cried out in agony, the toilet sang in joy at the miracle it was about to receive. When I regained consciousness and brought myself to the point of wiping, I discovered the true horror of the evening.

Before continuing, I consider it necessary to make one qualification. I possess a rather... How you say, furry posterior. I freely admit this. I am a man of gum swallowing and a hairy ***. A hairy *** that was now virtually plastered with partially digested bubble gum.

If you've ever tried to get gum out of the hair on your head, you'll understand the conundrum that I was in. Once bubble gum has attached itself to the hair follicle, the two are inseparable. Inseparable like night and day. Inseparable like my *** CHEEKS now were, welded together with a mass of rapidly hardening cement.

After realizing what had happened, I understandably wished to keep the gravity of the situation private. One does not glue his *** cheeks together with fecal bubble gum and spread the proverbial word, you see. And so, I sat and thought. Thought HARD. What do you do? How am I going to get myself out of this one?

Okay, let's think about this. We have an uneven mass of bubble gum in the ***hair. It needs to come out, obviously. But how do you get gum out of hair? I recall someone telling me that peanut butter is the only recourse. No, f**kthat, I'm not making a damn sandwich in my ***. The thought of slathering brown sludge in with other brown sludge was not appealing.

Well, option number one: rip it out. old school, yo!!. So, using a small strip of toilet paper as a shield, I grabbed a lump of the offending plaster and yanked.

WELL HOLY BUGGERY DUCKNUTS, BATMAN! That made my eyes water and my skull expand. Option number one is officially discarded, along with a healthy strip of my taint. Where do we go from here?

Well, maybe option number one isn't *totally* flawed. I'll take a shower! That'll loosen it up, right?

WRONG.

The bubble gum has become ONE with my *** hair now. They are no longer separate entities by any stretch of the imagination. They are joined at the cellular level. Their electrons circle each other in a spinning mass of beauty and PAIN.

Now what? The taint is an area of the body far too sensitive to have hair ripped from it. You might as well expect me to rip off my arm to scratch an itch on my finger.

It was around then that I came to the only logical conclusion. We have to*shave* it out, old bean. I'm sorry, dear sweet anus, but it's the only way. But what shall I shave it with, dear Liza, dear Liza?

I can't use the hand razor I shave my face with, certainly; would I be able to shear my whiskers every morning while knowing where it had been? That micro globs of poo-gum were being ground into my cheeks and neck?

No, certainly not! I do, however, have a small beard trimmer that might do the job. It was only a few dollars at Wal-Mart, after all; I can burn it when I'm done. Alrighty then, pants off, left leg up on the sink, offending mass of bubble gum presented comfortably, mirror positioned on the floor to help me aim. Okay, razor on, let's do this thing!

DEAR SWEET ZOMBIE IT'S STUCK!

Well isn't this wonderful, the undeniable reflex to jump and run from pain has kicked in! I'm now hopping around the bathroom with this two inch electric razor jammed firmly into my ***, dangling around like some sort of freakish technological tail.

The forces of physics have turned on me now. Gravity pulls the razor down as the momentum of my pain dance spins and twists it ever further into the tenderness of my crack. Screams begin to emerge through my gritted teeth. I try desperately to avoid waking my child and/or alerting my delightfully unsuspicious wife. After all, what would I tell them?

"Are you okay, dear?"

"Daddy, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing much. I tried to shave the bubble gum out of my ***, and now I'm waving the razor around like a second penis. Don't mind me, go back to sleep!"

Okay, I've calmed myself down. I cradle the offending piece of plastic and agony in an attempt to reduce the pressure on my tormented rectum. Well now you're ina real pickle,eh? You thought it couldn't get any worse, didn't you?

It was around this point that I started to get my head on straight. One must keep in mind how difficult it is to employ high-level cognitive abilities when one is experiencing pain in his most sensitive of areas. Thankfully, my wits had returned.

The razor wasn't going to come out. I was faced with several options: A) Shave it out. B) Cut it out.

Solution A wasn't viable since I'd already destroyed my only non-vital razor. The only problem with B was that there were no scissors in the bathroom; in fact, the only scissors I could think of were down the hall, within the cutlery drawer of the kitchen. My wife was using the computer in the living room, and could very likely see the bathroom door...

Yet the pros greatly outweighed the cons.

So, hopping like a crippled dog, I held the electric beard trimmer firmly against my battered *** hair and fumbled my way down the hall, praying to any possible deities that my wife wouldn't take this occasion to come get a snack or a glass of water. There was no answer for the situation I was in. The fates decided to smile upon me, I suppose. It seems perfectly reasonable that they would, of course, since they'd taken it upon themselves to so thoroughly destroy my sanity up until that point. I managed to duck-walk my way back to the bathroom, and with a carefulness that only a surgeon could appreciate, delicately extracted the clipper from myself.

Using the scissors, it didn't take all that long to snip away the majority of my post-gum. I shaved two long swaths into my ***, in fact, which resulted in the most agonizing discomfort over the next few days. Imagine rubbing two sheets of coarse sandpaper together. Then imagine a thin coat of unabsorbed poop-sweat turning the whole thing into a circus of embarrassment and skid marks. If there's a deep and philosophical message to be found in what I've written, it's lost on me. All I know is that under no circumstances should you ever...
EVER...
swallow your bubble gum.

OMG...Hilarious!!! What a mental picture. Thanks, Amanda!!!

An old lady was standing at the rail of the cruise ship holding her hat so that the wind wouldn't blow it away in the wind A gentleman approached her & said, "Pardon me, madam, I do not intend to be forward but did you know that your dress is blowing up in this wind?"
"Yes, I know," said the lady. "But I need my hands to hold onto my hat." "But madam, he said, "you must know that you're derriere is exposed!" The woman looked down, then back up at the man and said, "Sir, anything you see down there is 85 years old, but I just bought this hat