Musings of the Chronologically Challenged™ Fourth Generation

 
UPDATE:
I think it would be important to your web-visitors that you make it clear that this song was NOT written by the famous musician/Big Band-leader Tommy Dorsey, but by a respected african american gospel musician, Thomas A. Dorsey.

Thank you.
John Leslie



The Birth of a Famous Song
You might be surprised by the composer; I was. This is a sad, but true story. I looked up the song and sure enough, it WAS written by said composer.


THE BIRTH OF THE SONG "PRECIOUS LORD"

Back in 1932 I was 32 years old and a fairly new husband. My wife, Nettie, and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago's Southside. One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis, where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting. I didn't want to go. Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first child. But a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis.

I kissed Nettie good-bye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and, in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66. However, outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, I had forgotten my music case. I wheeled around and headed back.

I found Nettie sleeping peacefully. I hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling me to stay. But eager to get on my way, and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music.

The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing again and again. When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up with a Western Union telegram. I ripped open the envelope. Pasted on the yellow sheet were the words: YOUR WIFE JUST DIED. People were happily singing and clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying out. I rushed to a phone and called home. All I could hear on the other end was "Nettie is dead. Nettie is dead."

When I got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy. I swung between grief and joy. Yet that night, the baby died. I buried Nettie and our little boy together, in the same casket. Then I fell apart.

For days I closeted myself. I felt that God had done me an injustice. I didn't want to serve Him any more or write gospel songs. I just wanted to go back to that jazz world I once knew so well. But then, as I hunched alone in that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought back to the afternoon I went to St. Louis. Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie. Was that something God? Oh, if I had paid more attention to Him that day, I would have stayed and been with Nettie when she died. From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him.

But still I was lost in grief. Everyone was kind to me, especially a friend, Professor Fry, who seemed to know what I needed. On the following Saturday evening he took me up to Malone's Poro College, a neighborhood music school. It was quiet; the late evening sun crept through the curtained windows. I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys. Something happened to me then. I felt at peace. I felt as though I could reach out and touch God. I found myself playing a melody, the notes and words just seemed to fall into place:

Precious Lord, take my hand,
Lead me on, let me stand,
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.
Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light,
Take my hand, precious Lord, Lead me home.

The Lord gave me these words and melody, He also healed my spirit. I learned that when we are in our deepest grief, when we feel farthest from God, this is when He is closest, and when we are most open to His restoring power. And so I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until that day comes when He will take me and gently lead me home.

~ Tommy Dorsey
posted by HCL at 1:06 AM

 
>^..^< PUSSYFOOTIN'™

>^..^< My laurels are so few and far between, of course top billing of the day in Pussyfootin'™ will go to the Sweetheart on the Water. Thanks for the kind words, Jim.

>^..^< Kevin McGehee has this inspiring post up: 'Do You Believe God Makes Mistakes?' And follow his link to Dean's World for more inspiration.

>^..^< "Our liberal albino water buffalo Rosie O'Donnell flew today with her chosen carpetmuncher to California to partake of the rite of marriage as defined by the city of San Francisco. I hear that her bridal registry is listed as Snap-On Tools.", he said without cracking a smile.

>^..^< Cathy and Garland are still at it. Do you get by there often? Did you see yourself here?

>^..^< Chuck is still carrying the burden of updating on the Kenneth Walker case. He's just about maxing out his bandwidth, trying to be a good citizen.

>^..^< Mike the Marine is getting very close to stomping on my heart with his chastisement of Sweet William. They even named a flower after him, Mike!

>^..^< Altho Day By Day is a favorite, I have to catch it while surfing the blogs. Caught it today at dgci. Recommend you do the same.

>^..^< Winston's concise in his opining. He doesn't need 3 pages to tell how it is.

>^..^< Brian's Slightly Left of Center directs us to a cartoon that you should not link to with your mouth full. You've been warned!

>^..^< There's a forum opening up at Army of One about what to do with "Old Soldiers". Personally, I'd rather they didn't "just fade away."

>^..^< End of another week of political scatology and I'm still pledging my support to Yellow Dog!!!!!

>^..^< We the People has some essays and thoughtful comments going on concerning some issues in the news. Go be heard.

>^..^< Pennywit and Jack get in on some of it too. See here.

>^..^< What does Leap Year mean? Read all about it.


SENIOR MOMENTS™

The couple were 85 years old, and had been married for sixty years. Though they were far from rich, they managed to get by because they watched their pennies.

Though not young, they were both in very good health, largely due to the wife's insistence on healthy foods and exercise for the last decade. One day, their good health didn't help when they went on a rare vacation and their plane crashed, sending them off to Heaven.

They reached the pearly gates, and St. Peter escorted them inside. He took them to a beautiful mansion, furnished in gold and fine silks, with a fully stocked kitchen and a waterfall in the master bath. A maid could be seen hanging their favorite clothes in the closet.

They gasped in astonishment when he said, "Welcome to Heaven. This will be your home now."

The old man asked Peter how much all this was going to cost.

"Why, nothing," Peter replied, "remember, this is your reward in Heaven."

The old man looked out the window and right there he saw a championship golf course, finer and more beautiful than any ever built on Earth.

"What are the greens fees?" grumbled the old man.

"This is heaven," St. Peter replied. "You can play for free, every day."

Next they went to the clubhouse and saw the lavish buffet lunch, with every imaginable cuisine laid out before them, from seafood to steaks to exotic deserts, free flowing beverages.

"Don't even ask," said St. Peter to the man. "This is Heaven, it is all free for you to enjoy."

The old man looked around and glanced nervously at his wife.

"Well, where are the low fat and low cholesterol foods, and the decaffeinated tea?" he asked.

"That's the best part," St. Peter replied. "You can eat and drink as much as you like of whatever you like, and you will never get fat or sick. This is Heaven!"

The old man pushed, "No gym to work out at?"

"Not unless you want to," was the answer.

"No testing my sugar or blood pressure or..."

"Never again. All you do here is enjoy yourself."

The old man glared at his wife and said, "You and your damn bran muffins. We could have been here ten years ago!"


KID STUFF

~~ Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a picture of a family. One little boy in the picture had a different color hair than the other family members. One child suggested that he was adopted. A little girl said, "I know all about adoptions because I was adopted."
"What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child.
"It means," said the little girl, "that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy."

~~ A four year old was at the pediatrician for a check up. As the doctor looked down her ears with an otoscope, he asked, "Do you think I'll find Big Bird in here?"
The little girl stayed silent.
Next the doctor took a tongue depressor and looked down her throat. He asked, "Do you think I'll find the Cookie
Monster down there?"
Again, the little girl was silent.
Then the doctor put a stethoscope to her chest. As he listened to her heart beat, he asked, "Do you think I'll hear Barney in there?"
"Oh, no!" the little girl replied. "Jesus is in my heart. Barney's on my underpants."

~~ One Easter Sunday morning as the minister was preaching the children's sermon, he reached into his bag of props and pulled out an egg. He pointed at the egg and asked the children,
"What's in Here?"
"I know" a little boy exclaimed....."Pantyhose!"















posted by HCL at 8:24 AM

 
INDIGOINSIGHTS[AT]HOTMAIL[DOT]COM

Sorry, but the above Hotmail address is not operational at this time. I don't know why. It was only 26% filled just before it disappeared. Anyone who may have emailed me and wondered when I would reply, I guess the answer is 'whenever Hotmail gets the problem fixed.' IOW, your guess is as good as theirs!


DON'T CHANGE THE MENU!

Several cannibals were recently hired by a big corporation.
"You are all part of our team now," said the HR rep during the welcoming briefing. "You get all the usual benefits and you can go to the cafeteria for something to eat, but please don't eat any of the other employees."

The cannibals promised.

Four weeks later their boss remarked, "You're all working very hard, and I'm satisfied with you. However, one of our secretaries has disappeared. Do any of you know what happened to her?"
The cannibals all shook their heads.

After the boss had left, the leader of the cannibals said to the others, "Which one of you idiots ate the secretary?"

A hand raised hesitantly, to which the leader of the cannibals continued, "You fool! For four weeks we've been eating Managers and no one noticed anything, but noooooo, you had to go and eat a secretary!"


HOME REMEDIES
from Don, in the Virginia mountains

Some Home Remedies:
1. If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat and presto! The blockage will be almost instantly removed.

2. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.

3. Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.

4. High blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a while, thus reducing the pressure in your veins.

5. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep when you hit the snooze button.

6. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives, then you will be afraid to cough.

7. Have a bad tooth ache? Hit your thumb with a hammer, then you will forget about the tooth ache.

8. Sometimes We Just Need to Remember What The Rules of Life Really Are...
You need only two tools: WD-40 and Duct Tape.
If it doesn't move and it should, use WD-40.
If it moves and shouldn't, use the duct tape.

[Remember: These are home remedies from Virginia mountaineers!]


MUSINGS OF A RETIRED MIND

I was thinking about how a status symbol of today is those cell phones that everyone has clipped on. I can't afford one so I'm wearing my garage door opener.

I was thinking that women should put pictures of missing husbands on beer cans!

I was thinking about old age and decided that it is when you still have something on the ball but you are just too tired to bounce it.

I thought about making a fitness movie for folks my age and call it "Pumping Rust."

I have gotten that dreaded furniture disease...that's when your chest is falling into your drawers!

I notice when people see a cat's litter box, they always say, "Oh, have you got a cat?" Just once I wanted to say, "No, it's for company!"

Employment application blanks always ask who is to be notified in case of an emergency. I think you should write, "A Good Doctor!"

Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do...write to these men? Why don't they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen could look for them while they delivered the mail?

I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older then it dawned on me...they were cramming for their
finals.

As for me, I'm just hoping God grades on the curve.










posted by HCL at 10:08 AM

 
HONORABLE SERVICE
By Alan J. Meese

February 23, 2004 -- AT 8:46 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001, American Airlines Flight 11 struck the north tower of the World Trade Center. At the same time, two F-15 fighters were ordered to intercept United Flight 175, then speeding toward the south tower. In six minutes the planes were aloft, manned by National Guard pilots. They arrived eight minutes late.

Before 9/11, the Air Guard was America's sole homeland air defense, and only Guard fighters scrambled that day. F-16s from North Dakota training in Virginia scrambled just before terrorists struck the Pentagon. Their orders: "Protect the White House at all costs."

F-16s from the Texas Guard escorted Air Force One to Offutt Airbase in Nebraska and back to Washington. Other Guard units helped the FAA clear civilian planes from the sky.

The F-16s that accompanied the commander-in-chief that day were from the same unit - the 111th fighter/interceptor squadron - that President Bush joined in 1968. George W. Bush's service with that unit is now under intense election-year scrutiny, with some claiming that Guard duty was risk-free and unrelated to national defense.

John Kerry, who served four months on a Navy patrol boat in Vietnam, seemed to compare Guard service with "going to Canada" or illegally resisting the draft and "going to jail," saying he "had never made any judgments "about "these choices people make." Terry McAuliffe, the chairman of Kerry's party, claimed the president "never served in the military or [served] our country."

Those who disparage service in the Guard are dead wrong. Like the pilots who scrambled on 9/11, Guard pilots have played a major role in America's defense since the Air Guard's birth in 1947.

During the Korean War, 66 Guard squadrons were mobilized. Six, including the 111th, saw combat. Guard warplanes flew 39,530 sorties and dropped 44,000 bombs; 101 Guardsmen were lost - killed or MIA. Four Guard pilots, including one from the 111th, became aces by shooting down at least five enemy planes.

In 1961, President Kennedy activated 18 squadrons of Guard combat aircraft and deployed 11 to Europe, countering the Soviets in Berlin. At the Cold War's height, hundreds of Soviet bombers carrying hydrogen bombs threatened the United States. More than 1,000 fighters, many on five-minute alert, were ready to meet them, including planes from 25 Guard squadrons.

Thus, Bush volunteered on May 27, 1968 for a Guard that had seen combat in the nation's last war and still played an important role in its defense.

Before Bush enlisted, President Johnson mobilized several Guard fighter squadrons and ordered four to Vietnam. They arrived on May 3. A fifth "Air Force" squadron was actually 85 percent Guardsmen. Together, these planes flew 30,000 sorties and logged 50,000 combat hours. Several support units also saw duty there.

That summer, Johnson sent two Guard fighter squadrons to Korea, withdrawing them when the North released the crew of the U.S.S. Pueblo, which had been seized in January.

No one who entered the Air Guard in 1968 could know what course events in Vietnam or elsewhere would take. Would Johnson further escalate the war? Would he heed some military advisers and mobilize more Guard units? Did North Korea's attack on the Pueblo, an act of war, signal a new conflict that would involve more Guard squadrons? What about hot spots like Cuba? Would Soviet bombers target the United States?

Bush could have joined the Army or Marines and volunteered for infantry combat in the jungles of Vietnam. He could have served as an Army journalist, like Al Gore. He could have joined the Air Force and undergone lengthy officer candidate training, hoping to qualify for pilot school.

Instead, Bush chose what was probably the quickest route to the cockpit. In the Guard, he spent 21 months on active duty, much of it training to fly F-102 "Delta Daggers." A supersonic fighter, the Dagger carried air-to-air missiles, sometimes with atomic warheads. Initially designed to intercept Soviet bombers, F-102s escorted B-52s over North Vietnam and protected airbases. While Air Force pilots often manned the plans, Guard pilots also participated under operation "Palace Alert."

When Bush, whom one instructor ranked "among the top 5 percent of pilots [he'd] ever trained," asked about volunteering for Palace Alert, he was told to accumulate more flying time first. Before he could, the Air Force eliminated the program and withdrew F-102s from Vietnam. Training complete, Bush remained on active duty, sometimes manning five-minute alerts.

Many let their deeds speak for themselves, though some try to minimize the contributions of others. While some of his generation were doing their best to avoid service - any service - President Bush answered the call. He served, with honor, and so did the Guard.

Alan Meese is the Ball Professor of Law at William and Mary.

NY Post article here.
posted by HCL at 6:16 PM

 
THE BEST WE'VE GOT
by Ralph Peters

February 24, 2004 -- OVER the coming weeks, a quarter of a million U.S. troops will move into or out of Iraq. The logistics of such a transfer would be formidable even under peaceful conditions in a country with Western-quality infrastructure. No other power in the world could do it in Iraq - or anywhere else. Our military is going to execute the mission with such skill that it won't make headlines. There'll be brief reports buried in the back pages of our newspapers and a few human interest stories on TV. But the only way this massive event will get onto the front page will be if terrorists pull off a stunt during the operation.

They'll try. There are no guarantees of safety where peace is still being made. And the terrorists desperately want to be the lead story at the top of the hour again. But even if a bomb or a missile takes American lives, the real story will remain how much our military can do - and how much our troops have accomplished over the past year.

Recall how the pundits insisted that our troops were bound to fail, that Iraq was another Vietnam, a quagmire that would only worsen. Shamelessly, American ideologues who had been too good to serve in uniform themselves pretended that their only concern was the safety of our soldiers, who they wished to bring home immediately. Morale was going to break down, civilian "experts" insisted, our military would dissolve.

It wasn't just going to be Vietnam. It was going to be Oliver Stone's Vietnam.

Our soldiers' response? They broke the back of the Ba'athist insurgency. They captured Saddam. That deck of cards? Saddam and the boys were playing on credit - and G.I. Joe called 'em.

When our soldiers were attacked, they hit back with such ferocity, precision and determination that even hardline al Qaeda operatives in Iraq have admitted to the masters of terror that the U.S. Army cannot be dislodged.

But our soldiers didn't only fight. They built. The contractors with their snouts in the Iraqi trough have a mixed record, but our soldiers have been consistently effective - and economically efficient - in their own reconstruction efforts. And yes, damn it. Our soldiers did win hearts and minds. And they continue to do so.

Terrorists rushed to Iraq, dreaming of a quick triumph that would send the Great Satan fleeing back to America's shopping-mall Hell.

Well, al Qaeda's intelligence failure dwarfed any errors the CIA ever made. Far from discouraging anyone, the terrorists only stiffened the resolve of Iraq's Kurds, Shi'as and even many Sunnis not to let foreign assassins shape their future.

Operationally, the skills and fortitude of the American soldier quickly forced the terrorists to shift their efforts to targeting our allies - in an attempt to drive them from the Coalition - or to strike Iraqis committed to rebuilding and reclaiming their own country.

That hasn't worked, either. Iraq is moving forward. Our Coalition allies have shown admirable resolve - and adaptability. After a few early successes against our partners, recent terrorist attacks have failed. A sophisticated suicide bombing a few weeks ago didn't even penetrate the Polish compound it targeted, but only killed civilians.

Does anyone imagine that the terrorists are winning hearts and minds?

Iraq remains a brutally dangerous place, a country that will struggle for years with its disastrous past. Progress will be imperfect. Success will be inconsistent. Disappointments will intoxicate the media. But, when all is said and done, Iraq is now the only major country in the Middle East with hope for a better future.

Our soldiers created that hope.

Far from the crude babykiller of campus legend, the American soldier has proved that he is as humane as he is competent, as creative as he is valorous, and as optimistic as the best traditions of his - or her - country. Our troops have tracked down war criminals, turned the tables on ambushers, faced countless roadside bombs - and built schools, created jobs, picked up garbage and set an example that even those Iraqis anxious for us to leave will not forget.

The American soldier has an immeasurably greater impact than American bombs.

For the soldiers themselves - including our superb Marines - conducting this massive "relief in place" in Iraq, the on-the-ground reality will often be frustrating. Especially to the soldier heading home, the complexities of such a huge transfer of forces will have a hurry-up-and-wait side that will draw out the enlisted man's blackest reserves of humor.

But the new troops will go in, the veterans will come home, intelligence and operational techniques will be handed off, the "newbies" will master the local environment and this great campaign for freedom will continue to march.

Iraq is working. Attacks on our troops and American casualties are down. No Iraqis argue about whether the old regime should return - only about the rules for future statehood. A broken country is recovering from a generation of shock and misery. Their hopes may take a number of different directions, but the peoples of Iraq have hope.

I only wish that those Americans so anxious to use our soldiers as political pawns in election campaigns actually knew our troops. Not as an abstract concept, but as people.

The American soldier is a historical anomaly - not a grasping conqueror, but a man or woman of courage and good heart who wishes only to do what must be done, and then go home. Our troops are inspiring in ways that no campaign speech or campus rally will ever rival. They live the virtues - courage, patriotism, love of freedom, self-sacrifice, honor - of which their critics are embarrassed to speak.

They have a wicked sense of humor. They're exuberantly politically incorrect. They're part of the most thoroughly integrated, representative American institution - our military. And when the American people and our leaders stand behind them, they can do any job on earth.

Defying countless predictions of disaster, our soldiers have accomplished more in Iraq than we had any right to expect. And they did it not because of some brilliant master plan - there was none - but because they took a look at the bloody mess they inherited, rolled up their sleeves and went to work to fix it.

They're the best we've got.

Ralph Peters is a retired Army officer and the author of "Beyond Baghdad."
[Indigo received this as email from her friend, Captain Smith, Camp LeJeune]

posted by HCL at 10:31 AM

 
indigoinsights[at]hotmail[dot]com

My dear friend, Melva, God bless her, forwards anything she receives in email if there is even the remotest possibility that it may help someone. Over the years, she has sent countless stories appealing for "help" that even a fairly savvy fourth grader would find incredulous. But on the slim chance that it 'may' be true, and it 'may' help an unfortunate person, she hits the "forward" button and away it goes to everyone in her address book. I send about half of them back to her with the Urban Legends URL, stating 'FALSE', and although she is a teacher, I tell her to "do the homework!"

Today when I received the following email from Melva, I clicked on over to snopes.com to send her the URL, because I knew the law had expired. Much to my surprise and delight I learned that President Bush had signed omnibus appropriations bill (H.R. 2673) on 23 January 2004 and extended sales of the Breast Cancer Research stamp for another two years, through 31 December 2005. [see snopes] I hope some of my readers will paste this on an email and remind their friends. Here it is.


----- Original Message -----
From: melva
Sent: Monday, February 23, 2004 4:24 PM
Subject: Fw: Book of Stamps

BOOK OF STAMPS

Like most elementary schools, it was typical to have a parade of students in and out of the health clinic throughout the day. We dispensed ice for bumps and bruises, Band-Aids for cuts, and liberal doses of sympathy and hugs. As principal, my office was right next door to the clinic, so I often dropped in to lend a hand and help out with the hugs. I knew that for some kids, mine might be the only one they got all day.

One morning I was putting a Band-Aid on a little girl's scraped knee. Her blonde hair was matted, and I noticed that she was shivering in her thin little sleeveless blouse. I found her a warm sweatshirt and helped her pull it on.. "Thanks for taking care of me," she whispered as she climbed into my lap and snuggled up against me.

It wasn't long after that when I ran across an unfamiliar lump under my arm. Cancer, an aggressively spreading kind, had already invaded thirteen of my lymph nodes. I pondered whether or not to tell the students about my diagnosis. The word breast seemed so hard to say out loud to them, and the word cancer seemed so frightening. When it became evident that the children were going to find out one way or another, either the straight scoop from me or possibly a garbled version from someone else, I decided to tell them myself. It wasn't easy to get the words out, but the empathy and concern I saw in their faces as I explained it to them told me I had made the right decision. When I gave them a chance to ask questions, they mostly wanted to know how they could help. I told them that what I would like best would be their letters, pictures and prayers. I stood by the gym door as the children solemnly filed out. My little blonde friend darted out of line and threw herself into my arms. Then she stepped back to look up into my face. "Don't be afraid, Dr Perry," she said earnestly, "I know you'll be back because now it's our turn to take care of you."

No one could have ever done a better job. The kids sent me off to my first chemotherapy session with a hilarious book of nausea remedies that they had written. A video of every class in the school singing get-well songs accompanied me to the next chemotherapy appointment. By the third visit, the nurses were waiting at the door to find out what I would bring next.

It was a delicate music box that played "I Will Always Love You." Even when I went into isolation at the hospital for a bone marrow transplant, the letters and pictures kept coming until they covered every wall of my room.

Then the kids traced their hands onto colored paper, cut them out and glued them together to make a freestanding rainbow of helping hands. "I feel like I've stepped into Disneyland every time I walk into this room," my doctor laughed. That was even before the six-foot apple blossom tree arrived adorned with messages written on paper apples from the students and teachers. What healing comfort I found in being surrounded by these tokens of their caring.

At long last I was well enough to return to work. As I headed up the road to the school, I was suddenly overcome by doubts. What if the kids have forgotten all about me? I wondered, What if they don't want a skinny bald principal? What if . . . I caught sight of the school marquee as I rounded the bend. "Welcome Back, Dr. Perry," it read. As I drew closer, everywhere I looked were pink ribbons - ribbons in the windows, tied on the doorknobs, even up in the trees. The children and staff wore pink ribbons, too.

My blonde buddy was first in line to greet me. "You're back, Dr. Perry, you're back!" she called. "See, I told you we'd take care of you!" As I hugged her tight, in the back of my mind I faintly heard my music box playing . . "I will always love you."


Subject: Breast Cancer Stamp Booklet
Dear Sisters,
We need those of you who are great at forwarding on information with your e-mail network. Please read and pass this on. It would be wonderful if this were the year a cure for breast cancer was found!!!!

This is one email you should be glad to pass on. The notion that we could raise $35 million by buying a book of stamps is powerful! As you may be aware, the US Postal Service recently released its new "Fund the Cure" stamp to help fund breast cancer research. The stamp was designed by Ethel Kessler of Bethesda, Maryland. It is important that we take a stand against this disease that affects so many of our Mothers, Sisters and Friends. Instead of the normal 37 cents for a stamp, this one costs 40 cents. The additional 3 cents will go to breast cancer research. A "normal" book costs $7..40. This one is only $8.00. It takes a few minutes in line at the Post Office and means so much. If all stamps are sold, it will raise an additional $35,000,000 for this vital research. Just as important as the money is our support. What a statement it would make if the stamp outsold the lottery this week. What a statement it would make that we care.

I urge you to do two things TODAY:
1. Go out and purchase some of these stamps.
2. E-mail your friends to do the same.

Many of us know women and their families whose lives are turned upside-down by breast cancer. It takes so little to do so much in this drive. We can all afford the $0.40. Please help & pass it on. Have a wonderful day!
posted by HCL at 10:01 AM

 
MONDAY PUN

Another pun for the music lovers out there from Grouchy Old Cripple.

The orchestra conductor had been having problems with the bassists; they were the least professional of his musicians. It was the last performance of the season, Beethoven's 9th Symphony, which required extra effort from the bassists at the end. Earlier that evening, he had found them celebrating a birthday by passing around a bottle. Then, as he was about to cue the bassists, he knocked over his music stand. The sheet music scattered. So he stood in front of his orchestra, his worst fear realized: It was the bottom of the 9th, no score and the bassists were loaded.


BROKEN GLASS
by Peggy Noonan

It is fascinating to me that after two months of the Democratic Party demonstrating what appears to be dynamism, and the Republicans struggling with such questions as the weapons of mass destruction, and the president fighting back charges regarding his military service, the smartest read on where we are came this week from a a Zogby poll that said the Democrats are leading in the Democratic areas and the Republicans are leading in the Republican areas. Mr. Bush's poll numbers are down, but the blue states are blue and the red states are red. And no one knows what will change that. Entire article here.


>^..^< PUSSYFOOTIN'™

>^..^< Proudly presented as the result of help from Mike the Marine. Thanks again, Mike.

>^..^< Cait, the really 'catty' cat, says "The rumors about the governor of Texas have gotten thick as flies on a dead horse." Interesting links too.

>^..^< Following the progress, or lack thereof, on the Kenneth Walker case, via redneckin', , looks like yet another delay while the Georgia Attorney General takes over and begins his own investigation. Most unusual that the video tape has yet to be viewed by anyone other than law officials. In similar cases I remember, the video was on the 6:00 News. Hellooooo. Georgia?

>^..^< Every once in a great while, America is utterly captivated by an entertainer who has charm, grace, dignity, persistence in fulfilling his dreams: someone like WILL!

>^..^< "There is an endless stream of foreigners, impossible to identify, flooding into the United States, and Americans living on the frontline are concerned." Army of One has more here.

>^..^< What did you do in the war, daddy?

>^..^< Update from Yellow Dog: "The endorsements are still rolling in: Voters from all over America are expressing their support for Yellow Dog in my run to the White house." Read it all.

>^..^< If you have, or will have, college-bound kids, you need to educate yourself about Federal Student Aid.

>^..^< Don't want to say he's obsessing on the First Amendment, but here's Alphecca's Monday update. I report. You gun people decide.

>^..^< SayUncle: Clairvoyant?

>^..^< We the People has an interesting piece on "An Unintentional Synchronicity."

>^..^< Betsy is following the flap at UNC and Duke for us. Update here.

>^..^< Bubba refers us to "Here's what the fuss is REALLY all about."


SENIOR MOMENTS™

Memory? Heh?
My forgetter's getting better,
But my rememberer is broke.
To you that may seem funny
But, to me, that is no joke

For when I'm "here" I'm wondering
If I really should be "there"
And when I try to think it through,
I haven't got a prayer!

Oft times I walk into a room,
Say "what am I here for?"
I wrack my brain, but all in vain!
A zero is my score.

At times I put something away
Where it is safe, but, Gee!
The person it is safest from
Generally is me!

When shopping, I may see someone,
Say "Hi" and have a chat,
Then, when the person walks away
I ask myself "who was that?"

Yes, my forgetter's getting better
While my rememberer is broke,
And it's driving me plumb crazy
And that isn't any joke!
[thanks to Jimmy, Ayden, NC]


POSITION:
Mother, Mom, Mama, Mommy

JOB DESCRIPTION:
Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work in an often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities. Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.

RESPONSIBILITIES:
The rest of your life. Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5. Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly. Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks. Must be willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next. Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION:
Virtually none. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you.

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE: None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

WAGES AND COMPENSATION:
Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and just wish you could only do more.

BENEFITS: While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered, this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth and free hugs for life if you play your cards right.
















posted by HCL at 11:22 AM

 
INFORMATION PLEASE

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well, the polished old case fastened to the wall and shiny receiver on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person and her name was: "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. "Information Please" could supply anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
"Information"
"I hurt my finger" I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts"
"Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled.
I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Honey, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone.
"Information Please."
"Information," said the now familiar voice.
"How do you spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half-an-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or soon the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then, without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time."
"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"
"Yes."
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you."
The note said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I know what Sally meant.

[Author: Anonymous]

posted by HCL at 12:34 AM

 
>^..^< PUSSYFOOTIN'™

>^..^< DO YOU TALK FUNNY? Find out here.
>^..^< If you live on the wrong side of the tracks but get up on the right side of the bed, do those things cancel each other out? ~~George Carlin


SENIOR MOMENTS™

BLUE CROSS COVERAGE

Mr. Smith goes to the doctor's office to collect his wife's test results.
The lab technician says to him......I'm sorry, sir but there has been a bit of a mix-up and we have a problem. When we sent the samples from your wife to the lab, the samples from another Mrs. Smith were sent as well and we are now uncertain which one is your wife's. Frankly, it is either bad news or terrible news!"

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Smith.

"Well....one Mrs. Smith tested positive for Alzheimer's, and the other Mrs. Smith has tested positive for AIDS. We can't tell which is your wife's test."

"That's terrible!" said Mr. Smith. "Can we do the test over?"

"Normally, yes. But you have Blue Cross Health Care, and they won't pay for these expensive tests more than once."

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" Mr. Smith asked.

"Blue Cross Health Care recommends that you drop your wife off in the middle of town. If she finds her way home, don't sleep with her."



ANSWERS AND SCORING TO YESTERDAY'S AGE TEST

ANSWERS:

1. John, Paul, George, Ringo
2. Oh, my
3. It's Howdy Doody Time!
4. They melt in your mouth, not in your hand.
5. Wonder Bread
6. Cassius Clay
7. when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent
8. Maynard G. Krebbs
9. Why? Because we like you.
10. A little dab'll do ya.
11. over 30
12. who wrote the book of love
13. Absolutely nothin'
14. the American way
15. Joe Namath
16. "cause I eats me spinach"
17. Mary Martin
18. is a failure to communicate
19. Richard Nixon
20. Big John
21. On Blueberry Hill
22. Jimmy Durante - Wherever you are.
23. Good night, Chet.
24. pants on fire
25. Smile you're on Candid Camera
26. he is us

SCORING:

24-26 correct - You're probably 50+ years old
20-23 correct - Most likely in your 40's
15-19 correct - Are we in our 30's?
10-14 correct - Must be in your 20's!!
1- 9 correct - You're, like, sorta a teenage dude









posted by HCL at 2:43 PM

 
GREAT STORY FROM OUR TROOPS IN THE FIELD
I got this story just a few minutes ago from one of our troops "in the box" as he calls it. Priceless, simply priceless.
Posted by Allan

.... so we are up in the mountains at about 0100 hrs looking for a bad guy that we thought was in the area. Here are ten of us, pitch black, crystal clear night, about 25 degrees. We know there are bad guys in the area, a few shots have been fired but no big deal. We decide that we need air cover and the only thing in the area is a solo B-1 bomber. He flies around at about 20,000 feet and tells us there is nothing in the area. He then asks if we would like a low level show of force.

Stupid question. Of course we tell him yes.

The controller who is attached to the team then is heard talking to the pilot. Pilot asks if we want it subsonic or supersonic.

Very stupid question.

Pilot advises he is twenty miles out and stand by. The controller gets us all sitting down in a line and points out the proper location. You have to picture this: Pitch black, ten killers sitting down, dead quiet and overlooking this about 30 mile long valley.

All of a sudden, way out (below our level) you see a set of four 200' white flames coming at us. The controller says, "Ah-- guys-- you might want to plug your ears". Faster than you can think a B-1, supersonic, 1000' over our heads, blasts the sound barrier and it feels like God just hit you in the head with a hammer. He then stands it straight up with 4 white trails of flame coming out and disappears.

Cost of gas for that: Probably $50,000

Hearing damage: For certain.

Bunch of bad guys thinking twice about shooting at us: Priceless.


DEAN DROPS OUT, SLAMS "LIBERAL" MEDIA
Sour Grapes ? Or finally free to speak his real opinions?

WE THE PEOPLE
New blog. Go see what's happening. Join in.


NAVY CORPSMAN

Let us not forget that there was in fact a Corpsman with the Marines as they raised the flag on Mt. Suribachi. Hospital Corpsman John Bradley was there and was one of the three survivors from the raising to leave Iwo Jima. John Bradley died January 11, 1994 at the age of 70.

Definition of Corpsman: CORPSMAN - Usually a young, long haired, bearded, Marine-hatin' Sailor with certain medical skills, who will go through the very gates of Hell to get to a wounded Marine.

Corpsman
In August of 1942, the first major USMC assault landings against the Japanese Empire occurred in the Solomon Islands, Pacific. The island chosen for the invasion was Guadalcanal.

As they moved inland, four Marines were walking point into the jungle. Advancing into an open area without cover, they came under heavy fire from the entrenched Japanese. All four Marines were wounded but managed to crawl into a shell crater, about fifty yards from where they had emerged from the jungle.

A Hospital Corpsman ran from cover into the crater with the wounded Marines, and ran back to cover, under fire. Having dressed the wounds of the Marine, he sprinted back for another, only this time he was hit. Not stopping to dress his own wounds, he carried the second Marine to cover receiving a second wound. After giving aid to the Marine, the Corpsman was hit for a third time going into the crater. Staggering toward the treeline with the third Marine, he was again struck by enemy fire.

When the third Marine's wounds were dressed, the Corpsman started after the last Marine in the crater. The Corpsman still had not stopped to care for his own wounds. In a final valiant effort, he stumbled toward the crater, where he was brought down by concentrated enemy machine gun fire. He lunged forward into the crater falling across the fourth Marine, finally giving up his life.

Reaching up to his own bleeding wounds, the Marine wrote on the back of the Corpsman's bullet riddled shirt,

"WHERE ANGELS AND MARINES FEAR TO TREAD, THERE YOU'LL FIND A CORPSMAN DEAD."

This was that dying Marine's final tribute to his shipmate's supreme sacrifice in fulfilling his oath, "TO AID THE WOUNDED, IN THEIR MOMENT OF NEED."

Read the entire tribute to Corpsmen. Thanks to Jim on the Sloop and Doc Russia for links.


SM™
AGE TEST

1. Name the Beatles.
_________________
_________________
__________________
_________________

2. Finish the line: "Lions and Tigers and Bears, ____ ____ !"
3. "Hey kids, what time is it?" _____ _____ _____ _____
4. What do M&M's do? ____ ____ ____ ____ ____, ____ ____ ____ ____.
5. What helps build strong bodies 12 ways? _____ _____.
6. Before he was Mohammed Ali, we knew him as _____ _____.
7. You'll wonder where the yellow went, ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____.
8. Post-baby boomers know Bob Denver as the Skipper's "little buddy," But we know that Bob Denver is actually Dobie's closest friend, ______G._______.
9. M-I-C: See ya' real soon; K-E-Y: ___ ___ ___ ___ ___!
10. "Brylcream: ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____."
11. Bob Dylan advised us never to trust anyone _____ _____.
12. From the early days of our music, real rock 'n roll, finish this line: "I wonder, wonder, wonder...wonder who; ____ _____ ____ _____ ____ ____?"
13. And while we're remembering rock n' roll, try this one: "War...uh-huh,huh...yea; what is it good for? ,____ _____."
14. Meanwhile, back home in Metropolis, Superman fights a never- ending battle for truth, justice, and _____ ____ _____.
15. He came out of the University of Alabama, and became one of the best quarterbacks in the history of the NFL. He later went on to appear in a television commercial wearing women's stockings. He is Broadway _____ ______.
16. "I'm Popeye the sailor man; I'm Popeye the sailor man. I'm strong to the finish, ____ ____ ____ ___ ____. I'm Popeye the sailor man."
17. Your children probably recall that Peter Pan was recently played by Robin Williams, but we will always remember when Peter was played by ______ ______.
18. In a movie from the late sixties, Paul Newman played Luke, a ne'er do well who was sent to a prison camp for cutting off the heads of parking meters with a pipe cutter. When he was captured after an unsuccessful attempt to escape, the camp commander (played by Strother Martin) used this experience as a lesson for the other prisoners, and explained, "What we have here, ____ ____ ____ ____ ___."
19. In 1962, a dejected politician chastised the press after losing a race for governor while announcing his retirement from politics. "Just think, you won't have ____ ____ to kick around anymore."
20. "Every morning, at the mine, you could see him arrive; He stood six foot, six, weighed 245. Kinda' broad at the shoulder, and narrow at the hip. And everybody knew you didn't give no lip to____ ____."
21. "I found my thrill, ____ ____ ____."
22. ____ ____ said, "Good night, Mrs. Calabash, ____ ____ ____."
23. "Good night, David," "____ ____, ____."
24. "Liar, liar, ! ____ ____ ____."
25. "When it's least expected, you're elected. You're the star today. ____,____ ____ ____ ____.
26. It was Pogo, the comic strip character, who said, "We have met the
enemy, and ____ ____ ____."

ANSWERS AND SCORING TOMORROW








posted by HCL at 9:05 AM

 
MUSICAL INTERLUDE

This week I received a funny email from my friend, Don, about a musician named Zoot. I emailed Don and asked about Zoot. Honestly, I had never heard of him. But here's the genesis:

Hey Don -
Is Zoot a real musician that I haven't heard about - or a joke of the internet? Really, I don't know. I'd like to use this on my weblog, but don't want to post it not knowing the validity. If it's a joke - fine. I'll present it as such. But there are lots of REAL musicians out there who would spot my ignorance in a second if I gave it "joke" treatment and Zoot was, in fact, a real person. HEP ME!
BL

BL
Your questions are in the "musician" realm. Contact the Cc of this reply for further info. jbm was my high school band teacher and is my friend. He would love (let me speak for him now) to be a contributor to your BLOG. Just ask him.
Don

Today I received the nicest email from a "sorta stranger" (altho any friend of Don, is a friend of mine - plus music-lovers bond quickly, as some of you know!) and here's what he said:

Hi BL

Zoot Sims, a very real person and jazz musician. He gained early prominence when he was playing with the Woody Herman Band, 1947-49, as one of the Four Brothers (Zoot Sims, Herbie Stewart, Stan Getz, Serge Chaloff). Three tenor saxes an a bary. It is now well known as the Four Brothers sound.

John Haley Sims was born in Inglewood, CA on 10/29/25. He has done a lot of free-lancing as well as playing with the bands of Benny Goodman and Stan Kenton. One of the premier stylists and improvisors.

This is more than you probably wanted to know.

Bob

Not at all, Bob! In fact, it's exactly what I wanted to know. I remember the music of Woody Herman, Stan Getz, Stan Kenton, and of course, the great Benny Goodman, but Zoot is new to me. I am ever so grateful for your kind response and now I can share this with Blog World. Thanks so much. -- BL

And so, fellow bloggers, here's the humor of Zoot:


ZOOT SIMS HUMOR

Zoot was standing out in the alley back of a club between sets where he was playing when a bum came up and said, " I only need seventy-five cents more to buy a drink." Zoot reached in his pocket and gave him the money. After the bum walked away up the alley, Zoot ran after him, stopped him and said,"Wait a minute. How do I know you're not going to go around the corner and buy a bowl of soup?"
============================================================================

Zoot was rarely at a loss for words. When asked by a fan how he could play so well when he was loaded, he replied, "I practice when I'm loaded."
=============================================================================

Early one evening Zoot had just finished a recording session and was joined by guitarist Jim Hall and his wife Jane. Zoot complained of his tiring schedule -- recording all day followed by an appearance at The Half Note that night. Jane mentioned that if Zoot wanted, she had a Dexedrine. "I don't think they're good for you, they're pretty strong. I usually open one up and pour some out." "Pour some out?" said Zoot. "Are you crazy? Don't you know there are people SLEEPING in Europe?"
============================================================================

On a tour of Europe with Chet Baker, Chet wanted Zoot to meet the son of Benito Mussolini, who happened to be Italy's best jazz artist. Chet prompted Zoot to please say something nice when being introduced to him. While shaking the hand of the infamous leader's son Zoot said, "Sorry to hear about your Dad."
============================================================================

Stan Getz, through much of his career, was known to be one of the more unpredictable personalities in the jazz world. Asked to describe his sometime rival, Zoot remarked, "Stan Getz is a nice bunch of people."
============================================================================

Zoot was drafted into the air force in World War II. The year was 1944. Having served in places like Huntsville, Alabama; Valdosta, Georgia and Biloxi, Mississippi, Zoot proudly affirmed that he fought in the famous Battle Of The South.

What A Guy...What A Musician!

======================================================================================





posted by HCL at 12:01 PM

 
HEY, UNCLE!! HERE'S LOOKING AT YOU, KID!!

THE COST OF KIDS

I have seen repeatedly the breakdown of the cost of raising a child, but this is the first time I have seen the rewards listed this way. It's nice - really nice!!

The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for a middle income family. Talk about sticker shock! That doesn't even touch college tuition. But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down. It translates into $8,896.66 a year, $741.38 a month, or $171.08 a week. That's a mere $24.24 a day! Just over a dollar an hour.

Still, you might think the best financial advice says don't have children if you want to be "rich." It is just the opposite. What do your get for your $160,140?

Naming rights. First, middle, and last!

Glimpses of God every day.

Giggles under the covers every night.

More love than your heart can hold.

Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.

Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.

A hand to hold, usually covered with jam.

A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sandcastles, and skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain.

Someone to laugh yourself silly with no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day. For $160,140, you never have to grow up.

You get to finger-paint, play hide-and-seek, catch lightning bugs, and keep playing with kids toys.

You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day.

For $160,140, there is no greater bang for your buck.

You get to be a hero just for retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof, taking the training wheels off the bike, removing a splinter, filling a wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.

You get a front row seat to history to witness the first step, first word, first date, and first time behind the wheel.

You get another branch added to your family tree, and if you're fortunate, a long list of limbs in your obituary called grandchildren.

You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice, and communications, that no college can match.

You can kiss a boo-boo away, scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police a slumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, so one day they will, like you, love without counting the cost.

ENJOY YOUR KIDS AND GRANDKIDS.

[Thanks to John, New Jersey]



Yellow Dog, presidential candidate, releases his MPG Economic Plan

THE YELLOW DOG, MPG ECONOMIC PLAN!

Hello America,
Well the time has finally come for Yellow Dog to unveil my economic plan to revitalize the economy of the United States of America in such a way that our economy will never be again threatened by outside or foreign interests.

I’ve decided to call my plan the MPG Plan in reference to the means by which I plan to make it happen. My MPG plan will end our dependence on foreign oil, reduce global warming, reduce energy costs to Americans, put millions of Americans back to work in good paying manufacturing jobs, reduce taxes to working class Americans, generate substantial profits to American corporations, and in-general, make a whole lot of Americans a lot happier than they now are. And on top of all that, the MPG plan will accomplish this without violating existing trade agreements as directed by NAFTA and the WTO.

How, you ask? Read all about it here.


SM™
SPECIAL POEM FOR SENIOR CITIZENS

A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyze myself.
One yellow pill I have to pop
Goes to my heart so it won't stop.
A little white one that I take
Goes to my hands so they won't shake.
The blue ones that I use a lot
Tell me I'm happy when I'm not.
The purple pill goes to my brain
And tells me that I have no pain.
The capsules tell me not to wheeze
Or cough or choke or even sneeze.
The red ones, smallest of them all,
Go to my blood so I won't fall.
The orange ones, very big and bright,
Prevent my leg cramps in the night.
Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I'd really like to know...........

Is what tells each one where to go!

But there's always a lot to be thankful for if you take time to look for it. For example, I am sitting here thinking how nice it is that wrinkles don't hurt.








posted by HCL at 11:14 AM

 
OUR FATHER

"Our Father which art in heaven ..."

"Yes?"

"Don't interrupt me. I'm praying."

"But you called me."

"Called you? I didn't call you. I'm praying. Our Father which art in heaven ..."

"There ... you did it again."

"Did what?"

"Called me. You said, 'Our Father which art in heaven.' Here I am. What's on your mind?"

"But I didn't mean anything by it. I was, you know, just saying my prayers for the day. I always say the Lord's Prayer. It makes me feel good, kind of like getting a duty done."

"All right. Go on."

"Hallowed be thy name ..."

"Hold it! What do you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"By 'hallowed be thy name'?"

"It means ... it means ... good grief! I don't know what it means. How should I know? It's just a part of the prayer. By the way, what does it mean?"

"It means honored ... holy ... wonderful."

"Hey, that makes sense. I never thought about what 'hallowed' meant before. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Sure, why not?"

"What are you doing about it?"

"Doing? Nothing, I guess! I just think it would be kind of neat if you got control of everything down here like you have up there."

"Have I got control of you?"

"Well ... I go to church."

"That isn't what I asked you. What about your bad temper? You've really got a problem there, you know. And then there's the way you spend your money ... all on yourself. And what about the kind of books you read?"

"Stop picking on me! I'm just as good as some of the rest of those people at the church."

"Excuse me. I thought you were praying for my will to be done. If that is to happen, it will have to start with the ones who are praying for it ... like you, for example."

"Oh, all right. I guess I do have some hang-ups. Now that you mention it, I could probably name some others."

"So could I."

"I haven't thought about it very much until now, but I really would like to cut out some of those things. I would like to ... you know ... be really free."

"Good ... now we're getting somewhere! We'll work together, you and I. Some victories can truly be won. I'm proud of you."

"Look, Lord, I need to finish up here. This is taking a lot longer than it usually does. Give us this day, our daily bread."

"You need to cut out the bread. You're overweight as it is."

"Hey, wait a minute! What is this ... 'Criticize me day?' Here I was doing my religious duty, and all of a sudden you break in and remind me of all my hang-ups."

"Praying is a dangerous thing. You could wind up changed, you know. That's what I'm trying to get across to you. You called me, and here I am. It's too late to stop now. Keep praying. I'm interested in the next part of your prayer ... (pause). Well ... go on!"

"I'm scared to."

"Scared? Of what?"

"I know what You'll say."

"Try me and see."

"Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us."

"What about Ann?"

"See? I knew it! I knew you would bring her up! Why Lord, she's told lies about me, spread stories about my family. She never paid back the debt she owes me. I've sworn to get even with her!"

"But your prayer? What about your prayer?"

"I didn't mean it."

"Well, at least you're honest. But it's not much fun carrying that load of bitterness around inside, is it?

"No, but I'll feel better as soon as I get even. Boy, have I got some plans for that neighbor. She'll wish she had never moved into this neighborhood."

"You won't feel any better. You'll feel worse. Revenge isn't sweet. Think of how unhappy you already are. But I can change all that."

"You can? How?"

"Forgive Ann. Then I'll forgive you. Then the hate and sin will be Ann's problem and not yours. You will have settled your heart."

"Oh, you're right. You always are. And more than I want to revenge Ann, I want to be right with you. ... (pause) ... (sigh). Alright! Alright! I forgive her! Help her to find the right road in life, Lord. She's bound to be awfully miserable now that I think about it. Anybody who goes around doing the things she does to others has to be out of it. Someway, somehow, show her the right way."

"There now! Wonderful! How do you feel?"

"Hmmmm ... well, not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, I feel pretty great! You know, I don't think I'll have to go to bed uptight tonight for the first time since I can remember. Maybe I won't be so tired from now on because I'm not getting enough rest."

"You're not through with your prayer. Go on."

"Oh, all right. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

"Good! Good! I'll do that. Just don't put yourself in a place where you can be tempted."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Don't turn on the TV when you know the laundry needs to be done and the house needs to be picked up. Also, about the time you spend having coffee with your friends ... if you can't influence the conversation to positive things, perhaps you should re-think the value of those friendships. Another thing, your neighbors and friends shouldn't be your standard for "keeping up with. And please don't use me for an escape hatch."

"I don't understand the last part."

"Sure you do. You've done it a lot of times. You get caught in a bad situation. You get into trouble and then you come running to me. 'Lord, help me out of this mess, and I promise you I'll never do it again.' You remember some of those bargains you tried to make with me?"

"Yes and I'm ashamed, Lord. I really am."

"Which bargain are you remembering?"

"Well, there was the night that Bill was gone and the children and I were home alone. The wind was blowing so hard I thought the roof would go any minute and tornado warnings were out. I remember praying, 'Oh God, if you spare us, I'll never skip my devotions again."

"I protected you, but you didn't keep your promise, did you?"

"I'm sorry, Lord. I really am. Up until now I thought that if I just prayed the Lord's Prayer every day, then I could do what I liked. I didn't expect anything to happen like it did."

"Go ahead and finish your prayer."

"For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."

"Do you know what would bring me glory? What would really make me happy?"

"No, but I'd like to know. I now want to please you. I can see what a mess I've made of my life. And I can see how great it would be to really be one of your followers."

"You just answered the question."

"I did?"

"Yes. The thing that would bring me glory is to have people like you truly love me. And I see that happening between us. Now that some of these old sins are exposed and out of the way, well, there is no telling what we can do together."

"Lord, let's see what we can make of me, okay?"


posted by HCL at 12:22 AM

 
>^..^< PUSSYFOOTIN'™


>^..^<
Can You Hear Me Now (CYHMN henceforth, in lieu of a name!) speaks for us all when he asks: "How long are we as consumers going to put up with the practice of over-booking and the thoughtlessness of professional care givers?" Go read It appears that mankind is born to WAIT.

>^..^<
Good suggestion from Rivrdog to Paul Bremer.

>^..^<
McGehee says maybe Kerry could be cloned!

>^..^<
These bloggers also have a say:
Bejus Pundit: Kerry cheated on wife...
TacJammer: Personally, I don't buy it. This is John "Cash And" Kerry we're talking about here... and after all, how rich is a mere intern likely to be?
Betsy: Kerry might be able to get by with the American people by apologizing for his mistakes and saying that it is all private business. However, Teresa might have other thoughts.
Fox on the Water: J.F. Kerry, unzipped?
Terpsboy posts an obituary.
Litte Tiny Lies says DAMNATION
A Small Victory: Drudge forgot to take his meds again
GOP.com: Videos chronicling Kerry evolution on WMDs in his own words.
Say Uncle: The Sharks Are Circling
Andrew Sullivan says "Perhaps the best idea at this point is for me (and others) to shut up." [That's why he gets the big bucks!]


Subject: WAR IS NOT HELL

Last week an elderly Italian man asked the local priest to hear his confession:

"Father, during World War II a beautiful woman knocked on my door and asked me to hide her from the Germans. I hid her in my attic."
The priest replied, "That was a wonderful thing to do and you have no need to confess."
"It's worse than I've told you so far, Father. I was weak and she was beautiful and I told her she must repay me with her sexual favors. And she had no real choice and so she did that."
"Well, times were very difficult, and you were both in great danger and would have suffered terribly if the Germans had found her. I am sure that God, in his wisdom and mercy, will balance the good and the evil and will judge you kindly and with compassion for your humanity. You are forgiven."
"Thank you, Father. That's a great load off my mind. I have one more question."
"And what is that, my son?"
"Should I tell her that the war is over?"


BATTLE OF THE SEXES

"Cash, check or charge?" I asked, after folding items the woman wished to purchase. As she fumbled for her wallet I noticed a remote control for a television set in her purse.
"So, do you always carry your TV remote?" I asked.
"No," she replied, "but my husband refused to come shopping with me, so I figured this was the most legal evil thing I could do to him."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A man said to his wife one day, "I don't know how you can be so stupid and so beautiful all at the same time.
The wife responded, "Allow me to explain. God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me; God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A man and his wife were having an argument about who should brew the coffee each morning.
The wife said, "You should do it, because you get up first, and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee."
The husband said, " You are in charge of cooking around here and you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee."
Wife replies, "No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible that the man should do the coffee."
Husband replies, "I can't believe that, show me."
So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him at the top of several pages, that it indeed says....... "HEBREWS"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A man has six children and is very proud of his achievement. He is so proud of himself, that he starts calling his wife, "Mother of Six" in spite of her objections. One night, they go to a party. The man decides that it's time to go home and wants to find out if his wife is ready to leave as well. He shouts at the top of his voice, "Shall we go home Mother of Six?'" His wife, irritated by her husband's lack of discretion shouts right back, "Anytime you're ready, Father of Four."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~














posted by HCL at 1:02 AM

 
>^..^< ™

6:00 pm UPDATE: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

>^..^<
The now-famous picture of John Kerry in the audience behind Jane Fonda at an anti-war rally was augmented for me today. I emailed it to some keypals with the caption "A Picture is STILL Worth a Thousand Words." One of the recipients, a Navy SEAL during the time Kerry and Fonda were rallying, responded to me "Then 2 pictures is worth 2000 words..." and sent this back. There's another cliched truism in there somewhere for the DNC about "glass houses" but I'm not mentioning it to Mark, the SEAL. He'd just give me another lesson in one-up-man-ship. Bless you, Mark.

>^..^<In his special way with words, Pennywit discusses another potential quagmire for the DNC. Last paragraph: Those are only a few possible responses that Kerry might have to this upcoming brouhaha. I, for one, don't particularly care whether Kerry had an affair with an intern as long as everybody involved was consenting adults. But I may have a problem with how Kerry responds to the storm in the coming weeks. Dog Snot has a say too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

>^..^<
Col. William Campenni, USAF/ANG (Ret.). was interviewed on Fox News regarding his military service with George Bush. His interview reaffirmed his Letter to the Editor of The Washington Times, here in its entirety, excerpt follows: "George Bush and I were lieutenants and pilots in the 111th Fighter Interceptor Squadron (FIS), Texas Air National Guard (ANG) from 1970 to 1971." Thanks to McGehee for link and his other posting today too. He was charitable enough not to say "I told you so."

>^..^<
From the mail box of The Bejus Pundit, one of our staff military experts, comes this:

GIAP ON KERRY:
Gen. Giap: Kerry's Group Helped Hanoi Defeat U.S.
The North Vietnamese general in charge of the military campaign that finally drove the U.S. out of South Vietnam in 1975 credited a group led by Democratic presidential front-runner John Kerry with helping him achieve victory.

In his 1985 memoir about the war, Gen. Vo Nguyen Giap wrote that if it weren't for organizations like Kerry's Vietnam Veterans Against the War, Hanoi would have surrendered to the U.S. - according to Fox News Channel war historian Oliver North.

That's why, he predicted on Tuesday, the Vietnam War issue "is going to blow up in Kerry's face."

"People are going to remember Gen. Giap saying if it weren't for these guys , we would have lost," North told radio host Sean Hannity.

"The Vietnam Veterans Against the War encouraged people to desert, encouraged people to mutiny - some used what they wrote to justify fragging officers," noted the former Marine lieutenant colonel, who earned two purple hearts in Vietnam.

Posted by donnie at 15:35 | Comments (2) | Trackbacks (0)
Note: The Bejus Pundit was the first blog where I read about Gen. Giap. Subsequent blog surfing revealed several other blogs referenced the General's memoirs too. Fact is, I'm probably the last blogger ANYWHERE to even mention it. (This would be a perfect place to insert "c'est la vie", if I wanted to stoop that low. NOT!)


>^..^<
South Knox Bubba links to another perspective at Eschaton, i.e.:
Lies and the Lying Liars
Mark Steyn, Howard Kurtz, the Boston Globe, Instapundit, Sean Hannity. What do they all have in common? They've all propagated one version or another of this (Steyn's version):

A brave man in Vietnam, he returned home to appear before Congress and not merely denounce the war but damn his "band of brothers" as a gang of rapists, torturers and murderers led by officers happy to license them to commit war crimes with impunity. Here's the full context of Kerry's testimony to a Senate committee about Vietnam.

>^..^<
Pennywit says he's going to try something new. Let's hide and watch! I really like his interior decorating changes. If his "something new" is as positive as the renovations, I can't wait!

>^..^<
"Her" and I flipped a coin to decide who would post the latest Doc Farmer essay below. I think I won. If not, read it again at "Her" site here.


Al Does Not Work and Play Well With Others
Posted by Doc Farmer
Wednesday, February 11, 2004

(Author’s note: This school report recently came to my attention, and it seems appropriate to put such bad behavior into focus. It was about a little boy named Al…)

We’ve been concerned for some time with little Albert’s problems here at Our Lady of Perpetual Motion School for the Chronically Political. The incident on Sunday at the speech contest was what has finally brought us to draft this report to you. Little Albert has been quite difficult with his classmates, has been abusive to his fellows, and has been seen picking fights and telling lies about students in the other class. We’ve also been concerned about the way he has been treating his friends.

Sunday was one of a long list of problems that little Al has had, but we feel it is important that we describe to you in detail some of the many issues that we have observed.

Little Albert seems to have a fine imagination, and this creativity is an important part of any future activities he may wish to follow. However, we have noticed that little Albert does not seem to be able to distinguish between reality and his own imagination. For example, little Albert has claimed to invent a variety of things in order to impress the little girls in the class. So far, little Albert has invented the Internet, sliced bread, the wheel, and the Barbie doll. He tried to claim that he also invented fire, until he was told that he was not allowed to bring matches in class. When challenged with the truth, he invariably goads someone into yelling ''Vast Right Wing Conspiracy'' over and over again.

We’ve noticed, also, that little Albert has some difficulty in maintaining friendships. He was quite close to Joseph, a quiet but dignified lad, and they worked closely together in the last class elections. However, in the current elections, he seemed to ignore his old friend completely and gave great attentions to Howard (who, quite frankly, has had behavioral problems of his own). After Howard’s recent overexcitement incident, little Albert can’t seem to decide whom he should be a friend with. It appears that he only wants to be friends with someone who will win the school election, and he ignores things like sharing similar interests, loyalty, or fair play. To be fair to little Albert, however, he seems to have learned these unfortunate traits from a former schoolmate, William. And William’s counterpart, Hillary, seems to be even more of a bad influence in this regard. We’re hoping to speak to their guardians about their behavior in the near future, which we hope will have a corrective influence.

Some things that have been worrying us here for quite some time is little Albert’s desire to save the planet. Although a laudable goal, he seems to be taking this to extremes. He has demanded that the school cook use a solar oven of his own design (although we’ve found the patents belong to other companies). He spoke in harsh terms to the school janitor, insisting he force all the students to use corncobs in the rest rooms, while keeping several dozen rolls of toilet paper for his own use. Little Albert also has demanded that the school replace our bus with a single Yugo. Since you bring little Albert to school every day in a stretch limo, this seems somewhat unfair to the rest of the school.

Of course, you’ll remember the great difficulties your son has had in dealing with his loss in the last school election. Little Albert has been quite rude about this for a long time, and many of the teachers and students here are becoming exasperated at his attitude toward the winner. His constant demand for recount after recount in the previous election was bad enough, and marked him as a bad sport and a poor loser. He still has not accepted this loss, and is heard to mutter over and over, ''I’m the school president…I’m the school president'' during class time, recess, lunch, naptime, etc. He continually points at the winner and calls him all sorts of names in the schoolyard. George, to his credit, does his best to ignore little Albert’s taunts, but I’m sure that those words have done more damage to little Albert than to anybody else.

We had hoped that little Albert’s mood would have improved in this year’s school election, since he had decided not to run. Sadly, we had thought that meant that he did not intend to participate, but this has not been the case. He seems to be running between the students, making inappropriate statements about the current class president, and also egging the other candidates on in pointless arguments over minor details, while ignoring the important issues for the coming semester. Little Albert is being more active in this election than he was in his own attempt, and frankly nobody wants him to be. He has become an irritant to most of the other students, and the faculty has complained vociferously about his bullying tactics. Not only to the other students, but to the faculty as well. Even Teddy, who usually puts up with little Albert’s ranting, is now simply tuning him out, escaping him by drinking all of the grape juice in the classroom, and offering the girl students and teachers rides in his go-kart.

Up to last Sunday, we were hopeful that little Albert would eventually grow out of these infantile tendencies. Some faculty members have taken him aside and had a quiet word, on more than one occasion, about his behavior. Little Albert usually pouts whenever this happens, gets very defensive, and then for some odd reason, starts talking about old growth forests. We still haven’t figured that out yet.

I shall now describe the events your son was involved in on Sunday, and the concerns this has raised with all of us. The school debates were going well, if somewhat spirited. Candidates complained bitterly about the current class president without explaining how they would improve on his perceived faults. However, little Albert, who was only supposed to introduce the candidates, himself took over the microphone and had, for all intents and purposes, a 10-minute temper tantrum. He did not control himself very well, and he stormed off the stage. His anger was uncontrolled, as was his language. Although he said no naughty words, his attitude was disturbing and his vitriol was flowing freely. He was abusive, loathsome, rude, enraged, and he frightened many of the children with his attitude. His statements were, to put it mildly, inaccurate as regards the current class president, and were inappropriate for the situation.

Regretfully, I feel it only fair to warn you that little Albert’s future actions will be closely monitored by all of us here. If he repeats his obnoxious and rude behavior, we will have no choice but to restrict him from any future school activities.

I would advise you to get professional help for little Albert at the earliest opportunity.

Either that, or spank the little bastard so hard that he can’t sit for a month. Then wash his mouth out with soap.

~~o~~

Doc Farmer formerly lived in Qatar but now resides in Indiana. He receives e-mail at: docfarmer9999@yahoo.co.uk
This Article First Appeared In ChronWatch at http://www.chronwatch.com/content/contentDisplay.asp?aid=5915


GLOBALIZATION

Question: What is the truest definition of Globalization?
Answer: Princess Diana's death.

Question: How come?
Answer: An English princess,
with an Egyptian boyfriend,
crashes in a French tunnel,
driving a German car,
with a Dutch engine,
driven by a Belgian,
who was drunk on Scottish whisky,
followed closely by Italian Paparazzi,
on Japanese motorcycles,
treated by an American doctor,
using Brazilian medicines.

This is sent to you by an American,
using Bill Gate's technology,
and you're probably reading this on your computer,
that uses Taiwanese chips,
and a Korean monitor,
assembled by Bangladeshi workers
in a Singapore plant,
transported by Indian truck drivers,
hijacked by Indonesians,
unloaded by Sicilian longshoremen,
and trucked to you by Mexican Illegals......

And that, my friends, is Globalization.














posted by HCL at 12:12 AM

 
IN THE MAIL BOX
From dear Christina, Swansboro, NC

By the time the Lord made woman, he was into His sixth day of working overtime. An angel appeared and said, "Why are you spending so much time on this one?" And the Lord answered, "Have you seen My spec sheet on her? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have over 200 movable parts, all replaceable; able to run on diet coke and leftovers; have a lap that can hold four children at one time; have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart -- and she will do everything with only two hands."

The angel was astounded at the requirements. "Only two hands!? No way! And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."

"But I won't," the Lord protested. "I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to My own heart. She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18 hour days." The angel moved closer and touched the woman. "But you have made her so soft, Lord." "She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?", asked the angel. The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason and negotiate." The angel then noticed something, and reaching out, touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!" "What's the tear for?" the angel asked. The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride." The angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord.. You thought of everything! Woman is truly amazing."

And she is! Women have strengths that amaze men. They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy. They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry. They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous. They fight for what they believe in. They stand up to injustice. They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution. They go without so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend. They love unconditionally. They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards. They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding. Their hearts break when a friend dies. They grieve at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They know that a hug and a kiss can help to heal a broken heart. Women come in all sizes, in all colors and shapes. They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you. The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning! They bring joy and hope. They have compassion and ideals. They give moral support to their family and friends. Women have vital things to say and everything to give. However if there's one flaw in women, it is that they tend to forget their worth. Pass this along to your women friends to remind them how amazing they are.


>^..^< PUSSYFOOTIN'™

>^..^< Serenity takes on the liars one more time in Grasping at Straws. Don't miss this. And while you're over there, see her letter to Susan Sarandon and Pals from yesterday.

>^..^< Keep current on the Kenneth Walker case at redneckin'. Scroll all the way to the bottom for up-to-date Comments. Oh - and see the redneckin' home page too.

>^..^< Former New York Mayor Ed Koch says he will vote Republican for the first time in 50 years in this O'Reilly interview.

>^..^< The Grouchy Old Cripple had a drop of vino and got exceptionally grouchy -- especially at Viet Nam hypocrites. Not for the faint-hearted.

>^..^< As if S-Train is not scary enough, he is taking on co-intimidator, T-Steel as a blog-mate. According to Train, "He's about my height (6' 4") but weighs about 300 pounds (he played college football). He's a physically intimidating guy with a pure and kind soul though." C'mon, T-Steel. Show us what you got!!!


THE DRUNK

A good-OLE-boy staggered home late after another evening with his drinking buddies. Shoes in left hand to avoid waking his wife, he tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step in the darkened entryway.

As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke, and made the landing especially painful.

Managing to suppress a yelp, he sprung up, pulled down his pants and examined his lacerated and bleeding cheeks in the mirror of a nearby darkened hallway. Then he managed to find a large full box of band aids before proceeding to place a patch as best he could on each place he saw blood. After hiding the now almost empty box, he managed to shuffle and stumble his way to bed.

Come morning, he awakens with a screaming pain in his head, and butt, to find his wife staring at him from across the room, and hears her say: "You were drunk again last night!!!"

Forcing himself to ignore his agony, he looked meekly at her and replied: "Now, Hon, Why would you say such a mean thing?"

"Well," she said, "there is the front door left open, the glass at the bottom of the stairs, the drops of blood trailing through the house, and your bloodshot eyes but, mostly....it's all those band aids stuck on the downstairs mirror!"



posted by HCL at 12:16 AM