Saturday, January 31, 2009

Fire On The Mountain

Judy and I took the grandkids to Zaxby's tonight for dinner and this was playing over the speaker system. The Marshall Tucker Band was one of my favorite groups back in the 70's and man did it bring back some memories of beer guzzling, booty shaking, body slamming good times (and hangovers.) I haven't heard from them in years and it was a pleasant surprise to hear them again and remember.

Friday, January 30, 2009

A Typical Morning in the Coffee Pot


Judy, Chaplin and Coffeypot
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Friday Humor for the Weekend


A university creative writing class was asked to write a concise essay containing these four elements:

The winning essay read:

“My, God,” said the Queen. “I’m pregnant! I wonder who did it?”


Lost on a rainy night a traveler stumbled across a monastery and requests shelter there. Fortunately, she was just in time for dinner and was treated to the best fish and chips she’d ever had. After dinner she went into the kitchen to thank the chef and was met by two Brothers.

“Hello, I’m Brother Michael and this is Brother Charles.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you. I just wanted to thank you for a wonderful dinner. The fish and chips were the best I’ve ever tasted. Our of curiosity, who cooked what?”

Brother Charles replied, “Well, I’m the fish Friar.”

She turned to the other Brother, “Then you must be…”

“Yes, I’m afraid it’s ture…I’m the chip monk.”


And Finally (I heard those applauses…now cut it out)

Think About This:

Living on Earth is expensive,
But it does include a free trip around the sun every year.

Birthdays are good for you;
The more you have, the longer you live.

How long is a minuet?
It depends on which side of the bathroom door you’re on.

If ignorance is bliss, why aren’t more people happy?

If Wal-Mart is lowering prices every day,
How come nothing is free yet?

You may be only one person in the world,
But you may also be the world to one person.

Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

We could learn a lot from crayons:
Some are sharp,
Some are pretty,
Some are dull,
Some have weird names, and
All are different colors…
But they all have to learn to live in the same box.

A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Happiness comes through doors you didn’t even know you left open.
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Thursday, January 29, 2009

Three Stages Of A Man's Life

From my friend Luara I present the three stages of a mans life.




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Tuesday, January 27, 2009

A Little Know Fact


Mahatma (Great Soul) Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
2 October, 1869 to 30 January, 1948

Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail, and with his odd diet he suffered from bad breath.

This made him what?

A super callused fragile mystic plagued with halitosis.

Now you know the rest of the story.

You’re welcome.
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Monday, January 26, 2009

Black Leather Bodice


A friend of the family was over the other night and she told us this story.

I had lunch with two of my unmarried friends. One is engaged, one is a mistress, and of course I have been married for over 20 years.

We were chatting about our relationships and decided to amaze our men by wearing a black leather bodice, stiletto heels and a mask over our eyes. We agreed to meet in a few days to exchange notes. Here's how it all went.

My engaged friend said, “The other night my boyfriend came over and found me with a black leather bodice, tall stilettos and a mask. He saw me and said, 'You are the woman of my dreams. I love you.' Then we made love all night long.

The mistress then said, “The other night I met my lover at his office and I was wearing the leather bodice, heels and mask over my eyes and a raincoat. When I opened the raincoat he didn't say a word, but we had wild sex all night.

Then I had to share my story, “When my husband came home I was wearing the leather bodice, black stockings, stilettos and a mask over my eyes.

As soon as he came in the door and saw me he said, ‘What's for dinner, Batman?’“

Us having a friends over is bull shit. I don’t have friends. But the story is funny anyway.
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Saturday, January 24, 2009

Warning Will Robinson Warning


Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties & local pubs to be alert and stay cautious when offered a drink from any woman.

Many females use a date rape drug on the market called 'Beer'.

The drug is found in liquid form and is available anywhere. It comes in bottles, cans, or from taps and in large 'kegs'. Beer is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars to persuade their male victims to go home and sleep with them. A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a few units of Beer and then simply ask him home for no strings attached sex.

Men are rendered helpless against this approach. After several beers, men will often succumb to the desires to sleep with horrific looking women whom they would never normally be attracted.

After drinking beer, men often awaken with only hazy memories of exactly what happened to them the night before, often with just a vague feeling that 'something bad' occurred.

At other times these unfortunate men are swindled out of their life's savings, in a familiar scam known as 'a relationship'. In extreme cases, the female may even be shrewd enough to entrap the unsuspecting male into a longer term form of servitude and punishment referred to as 'marriage.' Men are much more susceptible to this scam after beer is administered and sex is offered by the predatory females.

Please! Forward this warning to every male you know.(and to women with a sense of humor)

If you fall victim to this 'Beer' scam and the women administering it, there are male support groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with similarly victimized men.

For the support group nearest you, just look up 'Golf Courses' in the phone book.
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Friday, January 23, 2009



A fart, is a pleasant thing,
It gives the belly ease,
It warms the bed in winter,
And suffocates the fleas.

A fart can be quiet,
A fart can be loud,
Some leave a powerful,
Poisonous cloud.

A fart can be short,
Or a fart can be long,
Some farts have been known
To sound like a song......

A fart can create
A most curious medley,
A fart can be harmless,
Or silent, and deadly.

A fart might not smell,
While others are vile,
A fart may pass quickly,
Or linger a while......

A fart can occur
In a number of places,
And leave everyone there,
With strange looks on their faces.

From wide-open prairie,
To small elevators,
A fart will find all of
Us sooner or later.

But that farts are all bad,
Is simply not true
We must never forget.......
Nice old farts like you!

Don't yeah just love beautiful poetry?
(sob, sniffle, sniffle)
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Thursday, January 22, 2009

Kurtis and Brenda


In a supermarket, Kurtis the stock boy, was busily working when a new voice came over the loud speaker asking for a carry out at register 4. Kurtis was almost finished, and wanted to get some fresh air, and decided to answer the call. As he approached the check-out stand a distant smile caught his eye, the new check-out girl was beautiful. She was an older woman (maybe 26, and he was only 22) and he fell in love.

Later that day, after his shift was over, he waited by the punch clock to find out her name. She came into the break room, smiled softly at him, took her card and punched out, then left. He looked at her card, BRENDA. He walked out only to see her start walking up the road. Next day, he waited outside as she left the supermarket, and offered her a ride home. He looked harmless enough, and she accepted. When he dropped her off, he asked if maybe he could see her again, outside of work. She simply said it wasn't possible.

He pressed and she explained she had two children and she couldn't afford a baby-sitter, so he offered to pay for the baby-sitter. Reluctantly she accepted his offer for a date for the following Saturday. That Saturday night he arrived at her door only to have her tell him that she was unable to go with him. The baby-sitter had called and canceled. To which Kurtis simply said, "Well, let's take the kids with us."

She tried to explain that taking the children was not an option, but again not taking no for an answer, he pressed. Finally Brenda, brought him inside to meet her children. She had an older daughter who was just as cute as a bug, Kurtis thought, then Brenda brought out her son, in a wheelchair. He was born a paraplegic with Down Syndrome.

Kurtis asked Brenda, "I still don't understand why the kids can't come with us?" Brenda was amazed. Most men would run away from a woman with two kids, especially if one had disabilities - just like her first husband and father of her children had done. Kurtis was not ordinary - - - he had a different mindset.

That evening Kurtis and Brenda loaded up the kids, went to dinner and the movies. When her son needed anything Kurtis would take care of him. When he needed to use the restroom, he picked him up out of his wheelchair, took him and brought him back. The kids loved Kurtis. At the end of the evening, Brenda knew this was the man she was going to marry and spend the rest of her life with.

A year later, they were married and Kurtis adopted both of her children. Since then they have added two more kids.

So what happened to Kurtis the stock boy and Brenda the check-out girl? Well, Mr. & Mrs. Kurt Warner now live in Arizona , where he is currently employed as the quarterback of the National Football League Arizona Cardinals and has his Cardinals in the hunt for a possible appearance in the Super Bowl. Is this a surprise ending or could you have guessed that he was not an ordinary person.

It should be noted that he also quarterbacked the Rams in Super Bowl XXXVI. He has also been the NLF's Most Valuable Player twice and the Super Bowl's Most Valuable Player.

Sometimes there are just some good people who do their jobs the best they can but manage to keep their egos intact. No matter who wins the Super Bowl this year, this is a great feel good story. Personally I say, “GO FALCONS and take the Braves and Hawks with you.”

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Bus Ride


You are on the bus when you suddenly realize ... you need to fart.

The music is really loud, so you time your farts with the beat. After a couple of songs, you start to feel better as you approach your stop.

As you are leaving the bus, people are really staring you down, and that's when you remember: you've been listening to your IPOD.
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Sunday, January 18, 2009

I'm Finally Back

I have been on my monthly dog transport to New York and didn’t get back home until 1:30 a.m. Sunday morning. This wasn’t a normal trip.

I was booking it up the New York Thruway listening to an audio book disk when I felt a vibration and heard a rumble that sounded like I had a flat tire. I wiggled the steering wheel to see it the van would wobble, but she felt steady. Then I noticed that I was loosing speed but the rpm’s were holding steady. That’s it. I had either blown out the transmission or the rear end.

Luckily the traffic was pretty light so I was able to make it to the side of the road. It was a tight fit as the side of the emergency lane was three feet high with snow. After making three or four calls to get some help I was told that I had to give them a mile marker number. That was a hundred yards in either direction (there are mile markers every mile and nine other markers between at tenths of a mile. So I had to walk the distance in the 10 degree weather and back again - in sneakers.

A half hour later the wrecker showed up. When he loaded the van on the back of his tow truck, transmission fluid poured out like a huge coffee urn had been tipped over. There was a hole in the pan and a gear hanging out.

I was towed to Stewart International Airport to the AVIS dealer to pick up a new GMC Cherokee. I had twenty cages with twenty-five dogs to transfer. As I was unloading the disabled van I strained my lower back. There were three Hispanics who barely spoke English. They told me to rest and they would swap the load. That was very nice of them and I appreciated it very much. But they either wouldn’t listen or couldn’t understand English or my instructions. The cages were stacked closely to they way I wanted them only facing the wrong way. When I got to the destinations I had to pull the cages out to unload the dogs.

I finally reached my last location, the Mohawk Shelter, in Albany, NY, at 5:45 p.m. (I’m usually there around noon or half past noon.) Normally I would head back and stop over for a rest around Winchester, VA, but I was so tired and stiff, I decided to stay in Albany. When I woke up Saturday morning, it was -1 degree with a high of 8 degrees expected. I had to get back to Georgia.

On the way back I saw one of the saddest things I have ever seen. It brought tears to my eyes, and I pulled over and said a prayer for the demise. Just South of Winston, VA, I had pulled off to get some gas and right there at the end of the ramp was a Waffle House CLOSED. It had the white paint saying CLOSED on all the windows and all the lights were off. The only dark thing among all those new car dealerships bright lights. It was so sad.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, but I was already bummed because of the WH demise. Damn the economy.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Pillsbury Doughboy's Expiration Day Arrived


Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The gravesite was piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they have one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

In memory of Doughboy, I ask that you rise to the occasion and take time to pass this on and share that smile with someone else that may be having a crumby day and kneads a lift.
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Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Monday, January 12, 2009

From My Friend Mary


A man and his wife went on a wilderness vacation in Canada.

The day after his wife disappeared in a kayaking accident, a man answered his door to find two grim-faced Mounties.

"We're sorry sir, but we have some information about your wife," said one Mounties’.

"Tell me! Did you find her?" the anguished husband sobbed.

The Mounties looked at each other. One said, "We have some bad news, some good news, and some really great news. Which do you want to hear first?"

Fearing the worst, the ashen husband said, "Give me the bad news first."

The Mountie said, "I'm sorry to tell you, sir, but this morning we found your wife's body in the bay."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed the husband. Swallowing hard, he asked, "What's the good news?"

The Mountie continued, "When we pulled her up, she had twelve 25-pound snow crabs and six good-size lobsters clinging to her."

Stunned, the husband demanded, "If that's the good news, what's the great news?"

The Mountie said, "We're gonna pull her up again tomorrow! Want some?"
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Sunday, January 11, 2009

More Musings Of Old Folks


Just before the funeral services, the undertaker came up to the very elderly widow and asked, 'How old was your husband?'
'98,' she replied. 'Two years older than me'
'So you're 96,' the undertaker commented.
She responded, 'Hardly worth going home, is it?
Reporters interviewing a 104-year-old woman:
'And what do you think is the best thing
About being 104?' the reporter asked.
She simply replied, 'No peer pressure.'
The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.
I've sure gotten old!
I've had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees, fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I'm half blind, can’t hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts.
I have bouts with dementia, and poor circulation and I can hardly feel my hands and feet anymore.
I also can't remember if I'm 85 or 92 and I have lost all my friends.
But, thank God, I still have my Florida driver's license.
I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor's permission to join a fitness club and start exercising.
I decided to take an aerobics class for seniors.
I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down, and perspired for an hour. But, by the time I got my leotards on,
The class was over.
My memory's not as sharp as it used to be.
Also, my memory's not as sharp as it used to be.
Know how to prevent sagging?
Just eat till the wrinkles fill out.
It's scary when you start making the same noises as your coffee maker.
These days about half the stuff in my shopping cart says,
'For fast relief.'
Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.
It is hard to believe that I am growing old until I go to the Waffle House. They make me pay for my coffee before they serve me.
And finally (I hate to use that word these days) always remember This:
“You don't stop laughing because you grow old,
You grow old because you stop laughing!!”
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Friday, January 09, 2009

The Importance of Walking


Walking can add minutes to your life. This enables you at 85 years old to spend an additional 5 months in a nursing home at $7000 per month.

My grandpa started walking five miles a day when he was 60. Now he's 97 years old and we have no idea where he is by now.

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.

The only reason I would take up walking is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.

I have to walk early in the morning, before my brain figures out what I'm doing.

I joined a health club last year, spent about 400 bucks. Haven't lost a pound, yet. Apparently you have to go there.

Every time I hear the dirty word 'exercise', I wash my mouth out with chocolate.

I do have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them.

The advantage of exercising every day is so when you die, they'll say, 'Well, she/he looks good doesn't she/he.’

If you are going to try cross-country skiing, start with a small country.

I know I got a lot of exercise the last few years... just getting over the hill.

We all get heavier as we get older, because there's a lot more information in our heads. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.


Every time I start thinking too much about how I look, I just find a Happy Hour and by the time I leave, I look just fine.

Now, you could run this over to your friends, but just e-mail it to them!
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Thursday, January 08, 2009

Poke A Hole In It


When opening a can of Carnation evaporated milk for your recipes, just smile and think of this.

A little old lady from North Carolina had worked in and around her family dairy farms since she was old enough to walk, with hours of hard work and little compensation. So when canned Carnation Milk became available in grocery stores, she read an advertisement offering $5,000 for the best slogan/rhyme beginning with "Carnation Milk is best of all ...."

She said, I know all about milk and dairy farms ... I can do this!

She sent in her entry, and about a week later, a black limo drove up in front of her house. A man got out and said, "Carnation LOVED your entry so much, we are here to award you $1,000, even though we will not be able to use it."

Here is her entry:

Carnation milk is best of all,
no tits to pull,
no hay to haul,
no buckets to wash and
no shit to pitch.
Just poke a hole in the son-of-a-bitch!

It may or may not be a true story, but its still funny. The lady had to be from my dad's side of the family as they are from North Carolina.
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Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Uncle Jay and 2008

I love Uncle Jay.

Enjoy your 2008 retrospective.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

All Alone Am I...WHAT???


Judy and her mom were to go to New Jersey today. Judy for two to three weeks for work, Dot to go home. They decided to fly Air Tran together so Dot didn’t have her broom. Dot gone, Judy away for awhile, the house all to myself… all was good with the world.

The grandkids went with me to the airport to drop them off before I took them back home. On the way back from their house I get The Call. The flight has been cancelled. WHAT???

It seems that a flight with over 250 paying people had to be cancelled because the pilot had too many hours and they couldn’t get another pilot into Atlanta because of the whether someplace. So all these people had to reschedule their flights – the earliest available being 6:30 tomorrow. WHAT???

So 250 people had to reschedule and they had only ONE person at the desk to handle all these very unhappy people. She deserves a medal.

Subsequently, it took over three hours for Judy to get to the desk. She requested a refund for herself because she was traveling on company time and money and must be in NJ on Monday morning. No problem. She had her company contracted travel agency find and rebook her another flight. She was sent to Mid West Air for a flight leaving in 4 hours. It will take her from Atlanta to Milwaukee where she will have about 2 minuets to change flights to LaGuardia in New York. We arrived at the airport around 9:30 a.m. and her flight to Milwaukee will leave at 5:20 p.m. Also, Avis is her preferred car rental and had a car waiting for her in Newark. However, due to all the changes she tried to switch the reservation to LaGuardia. Her normal rental for two plus weeks is around $250. They wanted $580 to make the switch. So she canceled the reservation and went to National where they charged her $239, give or take. I love that AVIS will not get a fucking cent.

In the mean time, Dot wasn’t able to get a flight until Tuesday morning. I had to bring her back home. WHAT???

But before that I had to try to retrieve her suitcase which has all her medicine and a bag with Judy’s cosmetics. But because it took three hours to get to the desk, the suitcase was loaded on the next flight to NJ and was gone. WHAT???

So I had to sweetly talk those fuckers into returning the bag and delivering it to the house tonight. I expect it around midnight.

So now it’s me and Dot. (cricket, cricket) I will have to get her to the airport around 6:30 a.m. on Tuesday and make sure she gets wheelchair assistance to the gate and a forklift to load her fat ass onto the plain. I chewed her out about sending her broom on ahead, but what can you do? And when I get home I will have to get the van and pick up Elvis and friends to go to Florida.

I’m so fucking happy! :-[
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Friday, January 02, 2009

The Beer Song

My grandson, J-Man, turned me on to this. It is my new theme song, and I would like to add e.craig, brother dave, RWA, trukin dog and Tom from Mr. Guinness as my associates and fellow recipients of said song. Next to Beer For My Horses, this one makes me want to get out of the easy chair and trek to the frig for a cold one.

Any winches who likes the taste of beer can join us, too.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Elvis Has Left the Building

I started the New Year off with a bummer.

I took Elvis to Dr. Amber's place to be neutered and get all his shots. I'll get to see him again on Tuesday (if everything works out with the receiving shelter.) The agency who wants to work with Elvis is having me deliver him to Lakeland, Fl, for his major surgery. Since I am going anyway, they want me to deliver 12 other dogs to make the expense of going worth it. That’s okay with me. It will cost the same if I take one or thirteen. But I will have to make three pick-ups before I head South.

Elvis became a family member almost overnight. He is so cute and cuddly and has already learned to play fetch and is almost house broken. He will be missed. There is an outside (way outside) chance we could get him back. It depends on the surgeon, who has first say over any animals he operates on. He works with animal rescue, too, and may have Elvis a home already. I can’t argue. He is doing a three thousand dollar surgery for free, so he calls the shots. I know Elvis will go to a good home because of the people we are dealing with.

So, I guess it is safe to say, “Elvis has left the building.” Thanku! Thanku very much!