tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392925412937499072024-03-18T23:45:28.253-05:00Diary of a DumbassOh the places I go
And the people I see
If it's not them pulling good ones
Then Crap it must be me!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-5140840297436343752011-12-17T23:19:00.001-06:002011-12-17T23:19:42.616-06:00Here's the link for the new blog<a href="twohootshollar.blogspot.com"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-44587120128666097312011-11-04T10:00:00.002-05:002011-11-04T10:00:51.757-05:00Join me at two hoots!!HI~<br />
I have decided to combine my two blogs into one new one.<br />
Join me at two hoots and a hollar if you feel so inclined<br />
<br />
<a href="http://twohootshollar.blogspot.com"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-32316292218657893522011-11-01T00:51:00.002-05:002011-11-01T00:51:42.265-05:00~McFamily Fall 2011~<table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" bgcolor="#ffffff"><tr><td><a href="http://smilebox.com/play/4d6a63314d544d344d544d3d0d0a&blogview=true&campaign=blog_playback_link" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="303" alt="Click to play this Smilebox newsletter" src="http://smilebox.com/snap/4d6a63314d544d344d544d3d0d0a.jpg" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=commissionjunction&campaign=blog_snapshot" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="46" alt="Create your own newsletter - Powered by Smilebox" src="http://www.smilebox.com/globalImages/blogInstructions/blogLogoSmileboxSmall.gif" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center">Create your own <a href="http://www.smilebox.com/newsletter-designs.html" target="_blank">newsletter</a></td></tr></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-77242826780632883422011-10-28T11:37:00.000-05:002011-10-28T11:37:58.930-05:00~~ Thangs that make ya say 'Huh'??~~It's the last Friday of October 2011.. and gosh has this month flown.<br />
Less than 2 months until Christmas and the end of this year..Where has the time gone?<br />
<br />
So I thought I'd post some ironic thangs in honor or Friday..<br />
Have a great one~~<br />
<br />
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Have a Great Weekend~~<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNwU3jWnT3qPAaS5RdVyAvS_f6IFnqQKRoTLaZpL0rhSGhea8X5LkjC-uVTaxr6EerlMDAr1V7yQ-BiqIspN9eD67YjoS6o-6Gt_iVc8TsiBTN7KvBB975wphFs909mKB-xfX9T6uJs9x/s1600/crap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="213" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNwU3jWnT3qPAaS5RdVyAvS_f6IFnqQKRoTLaZpL0rhSGhea8X5LkjC-uVTaxr6EerlMDAr1V7yQ-BiqIspN9eD67YjoS6o-6Gt_iVc8TsiBTN7KvBB975wphFs909mKB-xfX9T6uJs9x/s320/crap.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-10001155921572449802011-10-18T22:10:00.000-05:002011-10-18T22:10:27.895-05:00~Ahh Hell Nooo~A dog has lots of friends because he wags his tail and not his tongue<br />
<br />
<br />
Te err is human<br />
to forgive, canine<br />
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<table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" bgcolor="#ffffff"><tr><td><a href="http://smilebox.com/play/4d6a63794e6a67324d6a593d0d0a&blogview=true&campaign=blog_playback_link" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="303" alt="Click to play this Smilebox slideshow" src="http://smilebox.com/snap/4d6a63794e6a67324d6a593d0d0a.jpg" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=commissionjunction&campaign=blog_snapshot" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="46" alt="Create your own slideshow - Powered by Smilebox" src="http://www.smilebox.com/globalImages/blogInstructions/blogLogoSmileboxSmall.gif" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center">A <a href="http://www.smilebox.com/anytime-slideshows.html" target="_blank">free picture slideshow</a> by Smilebox</td></tr></table><br />
"The average dog is a nicer person than the average person"<br />
Andrew A. RooneyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-76943326430664248422011-10-18T14:37:00.000-05:002011-10-18T14:37:45.632-05:00~It's that of year again~I have to admit that I never really got excited about Halloween before now. I remember dressing up when younger and handing out popcorn after I raided the neighborhood. One yr. we lived on the most popular street in town and man..was that an experience trying to handle the masses. <br />
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Monkey #2 has a birthday a few days before the holiday so her feelings are quite strong about having a good time. In fact, her due date was actually Oct. 31st. I was horrified to think she might be born that day. So I was relieved when she arrived the opening day of the Astros World Series game. In fact, my Dr. had tickets for the next game. And truth be told, he almost needed a catcher's mitt to welcome baby monkey into the world.<br />
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The minute Oct. 1st arrives, Monkey is already planning her birthday and her costume for the yr. And one year, she was so torn over the two she insisted on a ballet monster birthday cake. What an imagination that girl has!!<br />
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Girl monkey has always enjoyed dressing up and pretending. Not so much for the first monkey. He hasn't really enjoyed dressing up. However, girl monkey has been a positive influence on him, and his stance on that issue. This year... we are all looking forward to Halloween. The yearly tradition at school is for the kids to dress up as storybook characters. They make it a fun, festive and entertaining literary event. <br />
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The first yr. big monkey refused to dress up at all.. Not even for Halloween. He found out really fast that little monkey raked in more goodies than he did. Her adorable grape costume didn't hurt. However, she did get quite upset when I had to pop her grapes so she could run and jump in the inflatable jumper roos. <br />
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The next year I was amazed when big monkey boarded the school bus as Sully from Monster's Inc. That was a hoot watching those big floppy monster feet make it up those school bus steps.<br />
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By the time last year rolled around, big monkey was excited and a pro. He put alot of thought into his costume. Who knew that the big bad wolf was really framed? Those 3 piggies really did a number on him. I was so proud of my incarcerated wolf for just trying to borrow some sugar for his granny's birthday cake.<br />
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Little Monster will gladly dress up and deck out for any and all opportunities. In fact, she even has her brudda pretending and getting into play quite easily now.<br />
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Which brings us to this year. The monkeys play Harry Potter quite frequently these days. And reading the books and watching the movies hasa brought such joy. So every day..every single day.. the question around here is "Have our Griffendor robes arrived yet?".. We will host both Harry and Hermoine this year. And something tells me that those costumes will be money well spent. Little monkey has been perfecting her spells daily. <br />
Gotta LOVE great books that inspire such imagination and play.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-14170280291822809542011-10-14T00:18:00.000-05:002011-10-14T00:18:08.796-05:00~Happy Friday Folks~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpEOvCMv1zmmTsR0KRb0uj3BciIytR0tMqKP-IbjTVEVV9I1HRM-QLP0aWEB4hPLW0FBdAuqB25LCKepaeLsibTj4t35tu5ONdeLVIyfdV4eZXWPxLYBjmfpuCgZ-PMcJ-UE7BdZPFxAQ/s1600/205960_10150349487178465_129446698464_9689347_1532772_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="204" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpEOvCMv1zmmTsR0KRb0uj3BciIytR0tMqKP-IbjTVEVV9I1HRM-QLP0aWEB4hPLW0FBdAuqB25LCKepaeLsibTj4t35tu5ONdeLVIyfdV4eZXWPxLYBjmfpuCgZ-PMcJ-UE7BdZPFxAQ/s320/205960_10150349487178465_129446698464_9689347_1532772_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWy-m9SE5_KNQZtTnrvKYTgrlGljIrTKkZM-zviAZtZibjHLPUJnSiYxuVp8IQ3JcyeFwlYSLnd8DtSLKJ0PI_33szO3svr4Cavh89gm9TJmL4INKUVZWJjrSLmZTJEE6pmGdsM-Ivs5Sz/s1600/312926_10150407195043465_129446698464_10190367_1075249218_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWy-m9SE5_KNQZtTnrvKYTgrlGljIrTKkZM-zviAZtZibjHLPUJnSiYxuVp8IQ3JcyeFwlYSLnd8DtSLKJ0PI_33szO3svr4Cavh89gm9TJmL4INKUVZWJjrSLmZTJEE6pmGdsM-Ivs5Sz/s320/312926_10150407195043465_129446698464_10190367_1075249218_n.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-50085971688065568632011-10-07T17:02:00.000-05:002011-10-07T17:02:54.491-05:00~Texan Volunteerism @ it's Best~~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEtFP4KSx38Fj6j4lM_8_EeC30wyAmALevMucPTgQMlJ6ZJ5vOOnoBetz3YE-izrzzFIsmN29WdYX9pJBl9D3275YR-lZVPQR1HwyUtkMAWM6hnOmbvIl7DDpBPQ_sRDp33dsrs30yRJw/s1600/texas-state-flag-pole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="224" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEtFP4KSx38Fj6j4lM_8_EeC30wyAmALevMucPTgQMlJ6ZJ5vOOnoBetz3YE-izrzzFIsmN29WdYX9pJBl9D3275YR-lZVPQR1HwyUtkMAWM6hnOmbvIl7DDpBPQ_sRDp33dsrs30yRJw/s320/texas-state-flag-pole.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The last post I wrote about was the massive fireballs that were devouring my great state. I was primarily writing about the Bastrop and surrounding area fires. To the north, the Metro-plex has been battling their own menaces all Summer long. This post is concerning an almost equalling challenging crisis to the north of Houston. One of the main differences is that the Houston fires were able to facilitate the very powerful DC10 jet that helped cut the fire off quickly. <br />
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On a sidenote: I commend the incredible volunteer efforts that each geographical location has had in bringing much needed supplies and drives together. Earlier this Summer, I read while friends were donating homecooked meals, bottled water and any other much needed item was provided to the volunteer firemen and women battling their fires. Other friends were on the ground running w/massive donations and handing out of goods to the effected people in the Bastrop crisis. I don't know if Texas hjas the largest volunteer firefighting organizations nationwide, but I would beg to think they are up there at the top. Most communities I have ever lived in depended on their help at all times. And the state funding cuts have deeply hindered the depts. efforts. I pray that this will be a wake up call to the state and reallocate much needed funding for these efforts. Texas does need FEMA. But the State of Texas needs to also fund them as well. <br />
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The following was received in an email that I thought was just too good not to share. And another reason why Federal Govt. Agencies need to stop being dumbasses and learn from the sources that can and do prove that common sense and the idea that our great country is made up of each individual citizen to help out in time of need. The backassword policies, back patting and stupid superficial efforts need to change. <br />
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~~~~~ ***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~**~~~~***~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~***~~~~~***<br />
Here’s some stories you won’t hear about the Tri-county fire in Montgomery, Grimes, and Waller County the weeks following Labor Day, 2011. Although Kenna promises to write a book.<br />
My neighbor across the road has a sister named Kenna. Labor Day, when she saw the huge column of smoke over our homes, she left a birthday party at my neighbor’s house to meet with her friend Tara at the Baseball complex in Magnolia. She called the owner of the complex and got permission to use the warehouse there as a staging area for donations for the fire fighting effort.<br />
They put a notice out on facebook that they were going to be taking donations on their facebook pages. That night as they were setting up tables and organizing, News 2 Houston came by and saw the activity, investigated and left with the phone numbers and a list of suggested donations. The facebook notice propagated faster than the fire. By dawn they had 20 volunteers, bins, forklifts, and donations were pouring in. I stopped by with my pitiful little bags of nasal wash and eye wash, and was amazed. <br />
There must have been 20 trucks in the lot, offloading cases of water, pallets of Gatorade , and people lined up out the door with sacks of beef jerky, baby wipes, underwear, socks, and you name it. School buses and trailers from many counties around were there offloading supplies, students forming living chains to pass stuff into the bins for transport to the command center and staging areas. If the firefighters had requested it, it was there. What do you give the guy out there fighting the fire that might engulf your home? Anything he or she wants. Including chewing tobacco and cigarettes.<br />
Kenna moved on to the Unified Command Post at Magnolia West High school . She looked at what the fire fighters needed, and she made calls and set it up.<br />
Mattress Mac donated 150 beds. Two class rooms turned into barracks kept quiet and dark for rest. <br />
The CEO of HEB donated 2 semi trailers full of supplies, and sent a mobile commercial kitchen at no charge to feed all the workers, but especially our firefighters, 3 hot meals a<br />
day. <br />
An impromptu commissary was set up, anything the firefighters had requested available at no charge. As exhausted firefighters (most of them from local VFDs with no training or experience battling wildfires) and workers came into the school after long hours of hard labor, dehydrated, hungry, covered with soot and ash, they got what they needed. They were directed through the commissary, where they got soap, eye wash and nasal spray,<br />
candy, clean socks and underwear, and then were sent off to the school locker rooms for a shower. HEB then fed them a hot meal and they got 8 hours sleep in a barracks, then another hot meal, another pass through the commissary for supplies to carry with them out to lines, including gloves, safety glasses, dust masks and snacks, and back they went.<br />
One of the imported crew from California came into Unified Command and asked where the FEMA Powerbars and water were. He was escorted to the commissary and started through the system. He was flabbergasted. He said FEMA never did it like this. Kenna replied, ”Well, this is the way we do it in Texas .”<br />
Fire fighting equipment needed repair? The auto shop at the High School ran 24/7 with local mechanics volunteering, students, and the firefighters fixing the equipment. Down one side of the school, the water tankers lined up at the fire hydrants and filled with water. Down the other side there was a steady parade of gasoline tankers filling trucks, dozers, tankers, cans, chain saws, and vehicles.<br />
Mind you, all of this was set up by 2 Moms, Kenna and Tara, with a staff of 20 simple volunteers, most of them women who had sons, daughters, husbands, and friends on the fire lines. Someone always knew someone who could get what they needed- beds, mechanics, food, space. Local people using local connections to mobilize local resources made this happen. No government aid. No Trained Expert.<br />
At one point the fire was less than a mile from the school, and everyone but hose volunteers were evacuated. The fire was turned. The Red Cross came in, looked at what they were doing, and quietly went away to set up a fire victim relief center nearby. They said they<br />
couldn’t do it any better.<br />
Then FEMA came in and told those volunteers and Kenna that they had to leave, FEMA was here now. Kenna told them she worked for the firefighters, not them. They were obnoxious, bossy, got in the way, and criticized everything. The volunteers refused to back down and<br />
kept doing their job, and doing it well. Next FEMA said the HEB supplies and kitchen had to go, that was blatant commercialism. Kenna said they stayed. They stayed. FEMA threw a wall eyed fit about chewing tobacco and cigarettes being available in the commissary area.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-79295752497266545832011-09-23T02:45:00.000-05:002011-09-23T02:45:22.493-05:00~A Summer to Forget~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcu3a5Fdsj4h4qyMLeriukOg8fKxQKaekGOG13_pAWk38HZUonp0IHpS4qUrc28uQZ9_UIm08fNPPZMZPJZ9-YjjPFdI8m3HbS9eCjCNGTrkz2eE6ua6Q7iLTQQavsG1CBCByHUDYp57gm/s1600/fart_sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcu3a5Fdsj4h4qyMLeriukOg8fKxQKaekGOG13_pAWk38HZUonp0IHpS4qUrc28uQZ9_UIm08fNPPZMZPJZ9-YjjPFdI8m3HbS9eCjCNGTrkz2eE6ua6Q7iLTQQavsG1CBCByHUDYp57gm/s320/fart_sign.jpg" /></a></div><br />
First off I would like to apologize for trying to kiss this tormenting Summer farewell. Little did I know that just days after my posting that Mother Nature had a doosey up her sleeve. La Nina has been hanging around here for almost a year, and she has decided that she likes our great area and she will stay longer. The dust and heat have been unbearable. Things I see around me today remind me of the unforgetable black and white photos from the Great Dust Bowl of the Great Depression years.<br />
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So the drought and heat were accompanied by some very fierce winds that set off my great state into a thundering fireball out of control. I will always remember the very first PG movie I ever saw during my third grade year. And this was a monumental milestone in the life of a kid growing up in the 70's. We kids weren't exposed to so much violence and sexual images like kids growing up today. My friend Lesley and I were dropped off (another huge deal) at the theater and watched "Towering Inferno" w/Steve McQueen, I believe. The fire that raged out of control while folks were trying to survive it's raging flames. I remebered that movie well after our state became Texas Tinder.<br />
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On Sunday I learned that a fire was quickly approaching my hometown. Along with a fire in the next county over. And 40 minutes away a fire was completely devastating a small town I happen to fancy. This poor town was surrounded on 3 sides by 3 huge fires caused by the excessive winds and reeked havoc on the drought stricken, water starving and dead trees and plants in its path. Almost 1400 homes were completely destroyed in its wake. Our state has never seen a fire of this magnitude.<br />
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The town itself is surrounded by magnificent pine forests that lends to a gentle beauty. I LOVED driving through this area and did so often in my travels to home and family. The first time I saw it I knew I wnated to live in this part of the state. Up until then, I had lived in the flatlands with minimal trees and rare hills. Today, I dread the drive home to my folks cause I will have to drive through literally 6 different areas that I am aware that fire destroyed. It's mind blowing to me to think of how a town and people repair, rebuild, and find a new identity. The town itself has been rendered almost completely different than from the features it once had. However, the people and state have launched a massive drive to help them rebuild their lives. And Praise be to God that only 2 people lost their lives. Good things are going to happen once everyone chips in and does their part to help rebuild.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCDNM2Bp65QORznyCOBIh1Onqtrq1BOpmXNu5gf0ssbQKwEs7JvjJcfXYkl32y4xDtWdVLG-jfb4TBoXOJv64CS9hGfZk1O-BEebq2lNWSHLkFvDdjw8M4owJIq365fndu0CN8Vuxib-I_/s1600/furryfriend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCDNM2Bp65QORznyCOBIh1Onqtrq1BOpmXNu5gf0ssbQKwEs7JvjJcfXYkl32y4xDtWdVLG-jfb4TBoXOJv64CS9hGfZk1O-BEebq2lNWSHLkFvDdjw8M4owJIq365fndu0CN8Vuxib-I_/s320/furryfriend.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So Summer as you leave I carefully and pragmatically welcome Fall. And knowing that we're still in for a very hot and dry season.. In fact, not much change from the one we've been enduring. La Nina, you have officially overstayed your welcome and you are an annoying guest. Please leave.. So I will get off my soapbox and onto my block of ice to cool off.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zqfbVEbpp90ThzHett5ElHIjPsWIelxM9DlJYAAeyK8uREbrbxdXHBxLRh09RrNxLgwm8f6N7nB0hyV38E2t8we7YtrYvpGu3vFeTqGYg_vc9Y9kN1g2EkP5TBxE_9XnggsxOl0IfVcp/s1600/22_women_sitting_on_ice_blocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="255" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zqfbVEbpp90ThzHett5ElHIjPsWIelxM9DlJYAAeyK8uREbrbxdXHBxLRh09RrNxLgwm8f6N7nB0hyV38E2t8we7YtrYvpGu3vFeTqGYg_vc9Y9kN1g2EkP5TBxE_9XnggsxOl0IfVcp/s320/22_women_sitting_on_ice_blocks.jpg" /></a></div><br />
All the while realizing that drastic times often calls for drastic chances and change in behaviors. Maybe we will do things we don't ordinarily attempt? Or, maybe we will choose to be kinder and help out more while we endure? Life is short..people are precious (ok.. most are)..and we gotta make the most out of what we have.. So I'm praying that Fall will fall gently on these bruised times.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-5581129644571994392011-09-01T03:26:00.000-05:002011-09-01T03:26:20.166-05:00A Summer to Remember..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJJSUa-PdcPInyU5zfUPBfSLwWS0q6811aVjXmoZj1tkvlIjjz0r1kVoZOVJ7N3skIT85UpPSVTCSQwnFrkBbyFLGXE915zs_pwhx-eITc3Ucjao9OfrahtjgnOeprVZ7qu-JJBkIVgeq/s1600/cartoon110721_full_600x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtJJSUa-PdcPInyU5zfUPBfSLwWS0q6811aVjXmoZj1tkvlIjjz0r1kVoZOVJ7N3skIT85UpPSVTCSQwnFrkBbyFLGXE915zs_pwhx-eITc3Ucjao9OfrahtjgnOeprVZ7qu-JJBkIVgeq/s320/cartoon110721_full_600x400.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Enough already! I've had enough.. I'm so done,cooked,basted,roasted, toasted and completely compelled to never want to have to endure another Summer like this one. The month of Aug. we hit 100+ degree days all but 2!! The longest and hottest Summer ever. OH yea.. and no rain.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrNrbEsSgU2IOZUq-ef3fgnxnbsdudj2Qe8VRFOmfiDH0xygFNiPVHY-DJNwSSD65H_YH1RZtP-yndzIwtyh_BGrVoAFsu3f5uLXvUnol6Q9BlRy_sUTeT4jK12eh4AezKHHHoYV4sAsC/s1600/Heat%252520Wave%2525201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="232" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrNrbEsSgU2IOZUq-ef3fgnxnbsdudj2Qe8VRFOmfiDH0xygFNiPVHY-DJNwSSD65H_YH1RZtP-yndzIwtyh_BGrVoAFsu3f5uLXvUnol6Q9BlRy_sUTeT4jK12eh4AezKHHHoYV4sAsC/s320/Heat%252520Wave%2525201.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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The wild fires that burned out of control have now come back in the some of the same places to harm as if their damage wasn't enough the first time around. Electricity shortages, rolling blackouts, AC problems and severe drought have forced us all to think differently how we use our resources. I can't help but think that surely something good will come from all this pain and misery.<br />
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So here's looking forward..and praying for rain and cooler temperatures. So I bid Summer goodbye, if only in my mind in hopes of kinder times to come.<br />
Fall please hurry.. <br />
Summer has been so cruel~<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-90245464330234333262011-08-02T01:18:00.002-05:002011-08-02T01:18:44.307-05:00~The Home that Built Me~<table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" bgcolor="#ffffff"><tr><td><a href="http://smilebox.com/play/4d6a59774e5449774d44453d0d0a&blogview=true&campaign=blog_playback_link" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="303" alt="Click to play this Smilebox newsletter" src="http://smilebox.com/snap/4d6a59774e5449774d44453d0d0a.jpg" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td><a href="http://www.smilebox.com/?partner=google&campaign=blog_snapshot" target="_blank"><img width="386" height="46" alt="Create your own newsletter - Powered by Smilebox" src="http://www.smilebox.com/globalImages/blogInstructions/blogLogoSmileboxSmall.gif" style="border: medium none ;"/></a></td></tr><tr><td align="center">Another <a href="http://www.smilebox.com/newsletter-designs.html" target="_blank">free newsletter</a> by Smilebox</td></tr></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-19380434461735342522011-07-30T08:16:00.000-05:002011-07-30T08:16:16.315-05:00This here's a little story 'bout a friend named....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuu3Gwr3lG3ClkrQGFFSW3PcksLDp6qWnihXH_skCItz0Dh16HXmtDEKJoUkLVDKvvVboozWhV2bRLhQ0U5zB2DT5QAIiOz_vK7_9cx4xitpDyMOetAH-GRdOtpglT2ablXpgbJHyb1aT/s1600/5651_1061856041628_1682785484_123131_4233061_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwuu3Gwr3lG3ClkrQGFFSW3PcksLDp6qWnihXH_skCItz0Dh16HXmtDEKJoUkLVDKvvVboozWhV2bRLhQ0U5zB2DT5QAIiOz_vK7_9cx4xitpDyMOetAH-GRdOtpglT2ablXpgbJHyb1aT/s1600/5651_1061856041628_1682785484_123131_4233061_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">CareBear</div><div style="text-align: center;">(ok, Carrie)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And she happens to be one of my bestest friends in the world..</div><div style="text-align: center;">We actually learned to live w/each other Before we decided we liked each other</div><div style="text-align: center;">Now.. that there would be some most excellent advice for married folks if you ask me</div><div style="text-align: center;">'cause you gotta live w/em like Forever!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Anyway.. this is Care and we have decided we will always have to be friends cause we just know waayy too much about each other .. or we might have to kill the person if we part ways...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't even begin (nor would I ever admit) to all the crap I got her into and she got me out of in those indiscretionary days I'm proud to say our kids will never hear about cause we will both be senile by the time they are old enough to think up such questions. You see.. we both had our kids so dang late in life that we could possibly be so old and senile we won't even know we Have grandkids. Ok.. so that's really me I'm talking about cause Carrie really has it all together.. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">To know her is to love her.. She's got the greatest laugh and biggest heart out there. And she was quite fortunate to marry a terrific fella who shared her same beliefs. This is Carrie and Lee and their brood of future domestic inheritors.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JvgTkRs2omKLFD3St5K9XDGlB4hv79_uahrSyg-Xof1KxexmxQDUHw0hN7t2egQ1USpQotTzqQOeaLoBHA744EPYVaDhpCf48j5Y_iNq3hAeg8StGjhWqwURZME-tLyQPqJzBOk4hpNM/s1600/17965_1136397905128_1682785484_273800_1865244_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JvgTkRs2omKLFD3St5K9XDGlB4hv79_uahrSyg-Xof1KxexmxQDUHw0hN7t2egQ1USpQotTzqQOeaLoBHA744EPYVaDhpCf48j5Y_iNq3hAeg8StGjhWqwURZME-tLyQPqJzBOk4hpNM/s320/17965_1136397905128_1682785484_273800_1865244_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She's got a few traits that I really admire.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Don't let those huge baby blues & Irish red hair fool ya. She's the very best Spanish interpretor you want hanging around when some trash talking hispanic fellas are chatting merrily away about you in a restaurant. And her response line to them as you quite calmly and ever so cooly make your exit is priceless. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSnYZBko04kubm9jjbVpwOOn9_Wqyt0B2fcmomXsTugvOvf9afE0JQbPHc81o3A_stviTLGIPQq2W3nDEgw0zQ6GnPGjAHPP2VF8YSybsZtHqbe7wxA0vr_blcwUaeR7QwWbg2Zd7-F4E/s1600/208572_1028618570712_1682785484_44699_1257353_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSnYZBko04kubm9jjbVpwOOn9_Wqyt0B2fcmomXsTugvOvf9afE0JQbPHc81o3A_stviTLGIPQq2W3nDEgw0zQ6GnPGjAHPP2VF8YSybsZtHqbe7wxA0vr_blcwUaeR7QwWbg2Zd7-F4E/s320/208572_1028618570712_1682785484_44699_1257353_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From the first week I knew her, she told me she had never lived outside of her hometown. And she had always wanted to move away and see the world.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dang!! She wasn't kidding.. She moved clear across the pond and into the desert with her little family.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And not only is she cool under pressure.. She also doesn't SWEAT!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This photo was taken while she and her family were living abroad in Abu Dhabi and the heat made the 104 degree heat we are experiencing feel like a February breeze.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But they are stateside again now living on a farm. She has broadened her brood to include things that say "Moo!" & "Look What I brought for supper"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmc4Z_UQfV0fi69qlSeqmrQB5apNhr5OQ4zbtBBuGr1DErbwI-psninRz_KTRkaZCOFOk0SZxlC6W4XsVO_A8D2WAgWkKzBuJbd6SyobW1ZeVdIkvEEmvVCR41YUVfi_lhXo562Kyod49G/s1600/207214_1042101627780_1682785484_74577_655710_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmc4Z_UQfV0fi69qlSeqmrQB5apNhr5OQ4zbtBBuGr1DErbwI-psninRz_KTRkaZCOFOk0SZxlC6W4XsVO_A8D2WAgWkKzBuJbd6SyobW1ZeVdIkvEEmvVCR41YUVfi_lhXo562Kyod49G/s320/207214_1042101627780_1682785484_74577_655710_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3-Mr16kIzVRFj36dm9e6_sbZow7ANqBm7Lml1grohDGcW6CgVHmU_BDsCFhFGjOoF0RciSXJiAB699Bkdqm_9ZhQdvoG9n4i46lkvKb20PfwDR3qhJFhBTsfoGXdCSLBX4P8OLsC_u_I/s1600/17965_1136397945129_1682785484_273801_567616_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC3-Mr16kIzVRFj36dm9e6_sbZow7ANqBm7Lml1grohDGcW6CgVHmU_BDsCFhFGjOoF0RciSXJiAB699Bkdqm_9ZhQdvoG9n4i46lkvKb20PfwDR3qhJFhBTsfoGXdCSLBX4P8OLsC_u_I/s320/17965_1136397945129_1682785484_273801_567616_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And she homeschools her oldest and now her youngest child too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Her middle she sends on the bus cause he's a lucky fella and he gets to hang with his friends at school.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nathan was born in the Fall of 2007 and was diagnosed with Down's Syndrome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He's such an incredibly blessed precious guy cause his parents saw immediately and right through the lovingly special gift that God had placed in their charge but more so in their hearts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFy727k4iLLvT0E4JdM9pt7adTpvFGjIVzbvWibfN-z2v58-fo3NUmM8KUbIA-RPA2fhDUnTNCKlfwbznqtwk8HZIT9tulTwVGFTqIe3W7g2sokYBwjvJVg-qcaodRQFzxwUsUkPUrokGn/s1600/47031_1337925863201_1682785484_669017_3052441_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFy727k4iLLvT0E4JdM9pt7adTpvFGjIVzbvWibfN-z2v58-fo3NUmM8KUbIA-RPA2fhDUnTNCKlfwbznqtwk8HZIT9tulTwVGFTqIe3W7g2sokYBwjvJVg-qcaodRQFzxwUsUkPUrokGn/s320/47031_1337925863201_1682785484_669017_3052441_n.jpg" width="243" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And as if running a farm, homeschooling and all just isn't enough..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well she has recently taught herself how to quilt quite well..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lcyHz_KN3xfHm_NHhAocmW7sjnruubKvDKVQawUgylustbed30MatLle1YMYfQGY-yPLoxYhyphenhyphenGJNLP7qNBqrLb4Dj_jM39lCgCYaOdJ1GNZ7SMlR4IkeZ4ntoXQewSc0XSVM-NxNwBmP/s1600/5651_1061860161731_1682785484_123139_7162946_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lcyHz_KN3xfHm_NHhAocmW7sjnruubKvDKVQawUgylustbed30MatLle1YMYfQGY-yPLoxYhyphenhyphenGJNLP7qNBqrLb4Dj_jM39lCgCYaOdJ1GNZ7SMlR4IkeZ4ntoXQewSc0XSVM-NxNwBmP/s320/5651_1061860161731_1682785484_123139_7162946_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh yea.. She's even entered some in contests.. the luck!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So you see.. we both had careers first then families while Old..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While I'm off house hunting (No not the HGTV where you get 3 choices)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm actually Looking for my house under all the dust, crap and junk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And my Thing 1 & Thing 2 are like this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKBc3oMwN-N2SHRx9r61n-qqoLA1liy1tyStwfUNLa8erpL8gbJd-oPYNZpUqjYcUxURoRnRUTOlS4QlU5XmOPC8b3Pur0mYh-LhD18f0MBdn4oFoYSx7gIBSNOnT8W_aAODxPBcWtPUZ/s1600/4d9a23d312d4c92676000138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKBc3oMwN-N2SHRx9r61n-qqoLA1liy1tyStwfUNLa8erpL8gbJd-oPYNZpUqjYcUxURoRnRUTOlS4QlU5XmOPC8b3Pur0mYh-LhD18f0MBdn4oFoYSx7gIBSNOnT8W_aAODxPBcWtPUZ/s1600/4d9a23d312d4c92676000138.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is what she's blessed with or is it her sills?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyHm_IMIAlGSE3V27x121CiMVLwpybISj2AdQk3RfwX_PZY1pxprTap9SLjoNXPszN3R_ZZJRzqswLlUtRR_acNyDApnfK7GTx1TCR2NwgHgoowbffJII_pQsXomIlPWcI3SfbkqxmSmj6/s1600/5891_1053318148186_1682785484_105421_7651681_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyHm_IMIAlGSE3V27x121CiMVLwpybISj2AdQk3RfwX_PZY1pxprTap9SLjoNXPszN3R_ZZJRzqswLlUtRR_acNyDApnfK7GTx1TCR2NwgHgoowbffJII_pQsXomIlPWcI3SfbkqxmSmj6/s320/5891_1053318148186_1682785484_105421_7651681_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and better yet this (while out in public no less)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG06Oo63KyzzS9zHH2N4rZdkyzg3Z4S6sbpH5A21OS2PhWh8IdcMIhJtjk_qza8an4IHF8wJaqPLBjNNCCqwPv6U3-T36QzzzLv69mj0UEzmk1RBoQ4O9w_VB_VL7pG8M7y5R3a6nWELKx/s1600/73470_1356486407203_1682785484_699036_611648_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG06Oo63KyzzS9zHH2N4rZdkyzg3Z4S6sbpH5A21OS2PhWh8IdcMIhJtjk_qza8an4IHF8wJaqPLBjNNCCqwPv6U3-T36QzzzLv69mj0UEzmk1RBoQ4O9w_VB_VL7pG8M7y5R3a6nWELKx/s320/73470_1356486407203_1682785484_699036_611648_n.jpg" width="237" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Arghh.. some moms have all the luck~</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So while mine have me yearning something to console my nerves..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rUMaJSvMGajOwcnpOh60Z-lqvtQvmzUAqfAyrHW1dt5ASDSu8byVhb3AuuOpH7VKuDO-uA5i313Os9-KD6-DkuKPisww4eK0IWC4Um1vfTqCTorK1MbvEu_NKNanYZiQ7vnSh6oJOd6g/s1600/%2521cid_191780797BD44926AD476874F44C9B53%2540home.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_rUMaJSvMGajOwcnpOh60Z-lqvtQvmzUAqfAyrHW1dt5ASDSu8byVhb3AuuOpH7VKuDO-uA5i313Os9-KD6-DkuKPisww4eK0IWC4Um1vfTqCTorK1MbvEu_NKNanYZiQ7vnSh6oJOd6g/s320/%2521cid_191780797BD44926AD476874F44C9B53%2540home.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What does she want? Oh you'd never guess..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just really 2 more who really need blessed..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">you see</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTRWaL1wHS7gbJ3hXPmUguzz0FwHTmSpWqx0IyPiMrvKkmjWghUHIq_n6lyhEg0HErdFObX8rx_sibLCx4_uPXQ6ewFbolqQZYfOKxzXQ_nEQ6taw97ORMew1CfbCxXI4TZD7DXivqNB8/s1600/Lindsaymay2011-225x300_jpg_pagespeed_ce_-qOswKOhyi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTRWaL1wHS7gbJ3hXPmUguzz0FwHTmSpWqx0IyPiMrvKkmjWghUHIq_n6lyhEg0HErdFObX8rx_sibLCx4_uPXQ6ewFbolqQZYfOKxzXQ_nEQ6taw97ORMew1CfbCxXI4TZD7DXivqNB8/s1600/Lindsaymay2011-225x300_jpg_pagespeed_ce_-qOswKOhyi.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLiyTpa192ZsnJY-kMOoRvZ1pfZTmRHsSN-MZRA-CS2stFMfoMjXP1Yv28UsYf9WRFQx63CQQOsxP2juG7zE_Qfti48nCr7YEcbzm8phyjQGArBKcN_UtdKofvwWnJXEPh0542WZtWBIy/s1600/Shawna-2-225x300_jpg_pagespeed_ce_tyT_c0d_l0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLiyTpa192ZsnJY-kMOoRvZ1pfZTmRHsSN-MZRA-CS2stFMfoMjXP1Yv28UsYf9WRFQx63CQQOsxP2juG7zE_Qfti48nCr7YEcbzm8phyjQGArBKcN_UtdKofvwWnJXEPh0542WZtWBIy/s1600/Shawna-2-225x300_jpg_pagespeed_ce_tyT_c0d_l0.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">are waiting in a far away land</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">where the people don't see them with hearts, love or homes</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They treat them with futures of institutions so cruel..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">to eat nothing but gruel</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But ones where they are left without love, stimulation or any </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">hope of developing into the girls God needs them to be</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They have so much to teach us, to show us and prove</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That they are far better than me or than you</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All because they are special and born with DS</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They are treated so loosely as if they don't matter</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When Carrie & Lee and others scream chatters!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">WE WANT THEM </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">WE WANT THEM </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We will take them to love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To hold oh so dearly to teach </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">from guidance above</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I can't think of a better family to open their hearts, homes and</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">love than this family...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They wanted to adopt one until they fell in love with both girls. You see </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">these two precious girls are best friends and have probably</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">been the only thing keeping them sane and ok in the conditions they are in</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They are fighting a fast moving clock</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For anyday now the girls can be moved into</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a regular institution with adults with other problems as well</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Please help this Exceptionally Wonderful family</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">bring them home where they will be nurtured and loved</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Times are hard.. $5.00 can go along way</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All donations may be accessed thru the link to the right</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and they are completely tax deductible..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">if you can't find that..then please pray that </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">they can get them home..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hopefully by Thanksgiving of this year</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">two very special girls will be celebrating the best gift all</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A loving family that anxiously awaits..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Please pass this along if you feel so inclined</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Every little bit helps</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*Care.. please note that no incriminating photos were used for this presentation</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and I'm not sure the statute of limitations has run out on some of those things we won't discuss..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Love ya my dear dear friend!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-14172853074143068782011-07-21T01:28:00.000-05:002011-07-21T01:28:04.145-05:00!! HHHDTH !!!Translated to all the younguns out there: Holy Hell How Did That Happen? I can't believe I turned 45~!! Or is it more appropriate to say "Yipee.. I actually made it to 45" ? All I know is I am getting too close for comfort for the AARP to start their banging on my door, ringing my phone and invading my personal space with their pleas for membership.<br />
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I do know that two things will always make me feel better. (1) My sister will always be older than me.. and when I was younger I couldn't wait to grow up and be just like her. Me and my friends would imitate her & her friends cause we thought they were so dang cool. And it was cool always getting to hang out with the older crowd. The high school crowd was fun while I was in elementary and Jr. High; but the older kids ALWAYS had more fun. But it wasn't until I got accepted into the post college phase of her life that I really enjoyed it. If memory serves me..(yes right.. let's not remind me of the old memory thang).. the statute of limitations for providing underage drinkers w/their favorite beverages has passed. To admit the truth, I never did turn out like her.. And for that I am thankful. I have eventually found my own way on my own path. Could never have asked for a better older sister. And she did have a fabulous wardrobe I cherished. Oh how I cried when that car and wardrobe got married!! However, on this age thing... I draw the line. She can be the older one.. gladly. And why is it I have more gray hairs then her? Maybe cause she doesn't face an ugly future cause she doesn't yank them out? hmmm<br />
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And (2) my little brother who has tormented me yearly and at every chance he can to tease me about my old age, loss of memory and overall entry into geezerville. Whoo Hoo.. He will turn the BIG 40 this year.. And I will gladly lead him into this unchartered territory into old age..and torment the crap out of him every chance I can get. He happens to be one of the funniest people I know. I relish and treasure the times I get to spend time with him, especially when he is telling his jokes and stories. I also look to him for decent music in this almost musically dry season. Just what is this crap for the most part on the radio? What a great OLD guy he has become...<br />
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I remember while in college when I thought 24 was OLD. And to think.. I married as an old maid to my way of thinking age of 26!! (But once I hit that age, then the old age marker rose even higher to say 31) always . What the hell was I thinking? 24 is the prime of your life. The road ahead is big, unchartered and well open enough that you can make a few pit stops, lay overs and even do overs if the need be. Adventure and the idea that you are "King of the world".. ok..maybe not that.. but at least invinsible rule the day. You are very willing to take chances, fib your way into a career postion knowing darn well you can prove that you Do know how to do that job you are interviewing for.... given a week to prove it. The mantra.. fake it till you make it is your north star in your guiding compass .<br />
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And then you start to get quiet and simple reminders that you are not that spring chicken anymore. Your clucker has gotten a bit more spookier and your feathers are turning a different color. And you thank God that you aren't a rooster cause you notice their feathers are falling out at a very quick rate. You still have some spring in your step, but you must remember NOT to try and show your precious daughter how to do a handstand against the wall. You realize what you just taught her was to how to really hurt your neck by showing her the very painful neck nerves you never knew you had. And that memory thing THEN decides to chatter and remind you that you haven't actually performed a handstand since you looked really good in your Gloria Vanderbilt jeans inyour Freshman yr. in high school so many years ago that you care to remember. Nor was it a good idea when you thought it was a good idea to show your young son how to skateboard....however, completely forgetting that most ENJOYABLE knee surgeryand the fact that God blessed you with insufficient muscles to support your chicken knees.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yeppers!! 45 brings on a whole nuther line of physical limitations and issues in and amongst itself. However, you also realize that the person you have become is much more forgiving of how you view yourself and your surroundings. The trade off I think is the wisdom that comes more frequently now in what you know, who you have become and what you really want out of life. The important stuff.. ...the little stuff that got shoved aside while making your mark on the world has become front and center. Family, faith, lifelong friendships and giving back are what matter most now. I have lost a few friends who I am saddened to know they never had the opportunity to see This side of the view. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There is also an interesting aspect to having your career first and then your kids late in life. Not only do you start to understand those limitations more clearly in realizing how much harder it is to keep up w/the rugrats.. But you are teaching them some very valuable coping and life skills along the way. I see now how I have tapped into my happy childhood and family experiences to share with them. They love the stories of when I was young. It is a great reminder of who I was back then and how it all impacted and shaped me into my today. I've also taught them how to handle the situation of being stranded in the city due to car trouble when the hubs has gone out of state for his yearly hunting trip. We made an interesting adventure out of it and decided it really was better to have stayed in school that day than to get out for an important Dr's visit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And then there was the very comical and embarrassing event of actually 'losing' your car at the HUGE grocery store parking lot. <strike>We </strike> Ok, I, packed the grocery basket with the most I have ever hunted and gathered for us, and then proceeded to forget where I had parked the car. After a 7 minute hunt, Thing 1 yelling and Thing 2 on the verge of tears.. we were blissfully rewarded that "Daddy's car is much better cause you can just push the alarm button on your keychain Mom, and then you can find it".."By the way, Mom you really should get a better car w/one of those". and "hey.. the car wasn't really stolen.. I told you". They learned that Mom is an idiot who has not an ounce of memory left and my car is insufficient. While I learned that my memory is shot, I will always park on the same row every time..even if it means walking the 1/4 mile to the main road, and get this: Hey.. Hubs has had memory problemas as well.. he just has and will never admit them. He's had to use the little alarm button to find his way.. I LOVE kids.. they don't miss a thing!! And they are very forgiving. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Oh yea.. and today Thing 1 learned how to really swim with my creative teaching style. Something that even the YMCA couldn't accomplish with this child~! Whoo Hoo..Bring it on!! there's hope for me yet~ =D</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div align="right"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-8732455015833398052011-07-18T18:36:00.002-05:002011-07-18T18:36:57.741-05:00~I Couldn't Agree More~<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Segoe Print;">Political Science for Dummies<br />
DEMOCRAT<br />
<br />
You have two cows.<br />
Your neighbor has none.<br />
You feel guilty for being successful.<br />
You push for higher taxes so the government can provide cows for everyone.<br />
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<br />
REPUBLICAN<br />
<br />
You have two cows.<br />
Your neighbor has none.<br />
So?<br />
<br />
<br />
SOCIALIST<br />
<br />
You have two cows. The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor. You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.<br />
<br />
<br />
COMMUNIST<br />
<br />
You have two cows. The government seizes both and provides you with milk. You wait in line for hours to get it.<br />
It is expensive and sour.<br />
<br />
<br />
CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE<br />
<br />
You have two cows. You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.<br />
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<br />
BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE<br />
<br />
You have two cows. Under the new farm program, the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pour the milk down the drain.<br />
<br />
<br />
AMERICAN CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows. You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.<br />
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead.<br />
You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses.<br />
Your stock goes up.<br />
<br />
<br />
FRENCH CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows. You go on strike because you want three cows. You go to lunch and drink wine.<br />
Life is good<br />
<br />
<br />
JAPANESE CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk.<br />
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.<br />
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.<br />
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GERMAN CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows. You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour. Unfortunately, they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.<br />
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ITALIAN CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows but you don't know where they are.<br />
You break for lunch. Life is good.<br />
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RUSSIAN CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows. You drink some vodka.<br />
You count them and learn you have five cows.<br />
You drink some more vodka. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.<br />
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TALIBAN CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have all the cows in Afghanistan , which are two.<br />
You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts. You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.<br />
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IRAQI CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two cows. They go into hiding.<br />
They send radio tapes of their mooing.<br />
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<br />
<br />
POLISH CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have two bulls. Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.<br />
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<br />
BELGIAN CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have one cow. The cow is schizophrenic.<br />
Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish. The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.<br />
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.<br />
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.<br />
The cow dies happy.<br />
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FLORIDA CORPORATION<br />
<br />
You have a black cow and a brown cow. Everyone votes for the best looking one. Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one. Some people vote for both. Some people vote for neither. Some people can't figure out how to vote at all. Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best looking cow.<br />
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CALIFORNIA CORPORATION<br />
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You have millions of cows. They make real California cheese. Only five speak English. Most are illegal.<br />
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders. </span></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-40159264450388527452011-07-14T13:37:00.000-05:002011-07-14T13:37:02.438-05:00~now please tell me.. who do you think is the da?~<blockquote style="border-color: currentColor currentColor currentColor blue; border-style: none none none solid; border-width: medium medium medium 1.5pt; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-left: 3.75pt; margin-top: 5pt; padding: 0in 0in 0in 4pt;"> <div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><strong><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-size: 36pt; font-style: italic;">BBQ RULES </span></span></u><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span></strong></div></div><div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-size: 13.5pt; font-weight: bold;">We are about to enter the BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking activity. When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion: </span></span><u><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 24pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">Routine... </span></span></u><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(1) </span></span><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13.5pt; font-weight: bold;">The woman buys the food. </span></span><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(2) </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script;"><span style="color: teal;"><span><strong>The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables and makes dessert. </strong></span></span></span></span><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(3) </span></span><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13.5pt; font-weight: bold;">The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - drink in hand. </span></span><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(4) </span></span><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13.5pt; font-weight: bold;">The woman remains outside the compulsory three meter exclusion zone where the exuberance of testosterone and other manly bonding activities can take place without the interference of the woman. </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"></span></div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12pt;"><strong></strong></span></span> </div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: navy; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;">Here comes the important part: </span></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: navy; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"></span></u><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script;"><span style="color: teal;"><strong><span>(5) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"></span></strong></span></span></span></div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12pt;"><strong></strong></span></span> </div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: green; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><strong></strong></span></span></u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: green; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;"><strong></strong></span></span></u> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: green; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">More routine... </span></span></u><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(6) </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script;"><span style="color: teal;"><span><strong>The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery. </strong></span></span></span></span><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(7) </span></span><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 13.5pt; font-weight: bold;">The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is looking great. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another drink while he flips the meat. </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"></span></div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12pt;"><strong></strong></span></span> </div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: navy; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;">Important again: </span></span></u><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(8) </span></span><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 24pt; font-weight: bold;">THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN. </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"></span></div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12pt;"><strong></strong></span></span> </div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: green; font-size: 24pt; font-weight: bold;">More routine... </span></span></u><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(9) </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script;"><span style="color: teal;"><span><strong>The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauce and brings them to the table. </strong></span></span></span></span><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(10) </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script;"><span style="color: teal;"><strong><span>After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"></span></strong></span></span></span></div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12pt;"><strong></strong></span></span> </div></div><div> <div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><u><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: navy; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;">And most important of all: </span></span></u><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(11) </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Segoe Script;"><span style="color: teal;"><strong><span>Everyone PRAISES </span><span>the MAN </span><span>and THANKS HIM </span><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 24pt;">for his cooking efforts. </span></strong></span></span></span><span style="color: green; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 36pt; font-weight: bold;"><br />
<span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;">(12) </span></span><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: maroon; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 24pt; font-weight: bold;">The man asks the woman how she enjoyed her 'night off,' and, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women. </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: teal; font-family: Segoe Script; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"><strong></strong></span></span> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></blockquote>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-84460241448341909232011-07-10T04:01:00.002-05:002011-07-10T04:01:46.778-05:00Great craigslist ad for selling petsMy girlfriend said the cat has to be gone by 12:00 tomarrow. She left a little while ago to hang with her friends. I put all her crap on the lawn and will try my best to find her a new home but if not there is always the shelter.<br />
<br />
So what we have here is one mildly attractive yet bitchy soon to find out she is a homeless exgirlfriend. She is somewhat house broken (but i think she is still connected to her mom by the umbilical cord). She is in her midtwenties and is NOT SPAYED (though she usually takes the pill) Lot of life left in this one. She is up to date on her shots and is great with dogs and small children, but does not seem to get along well with cats. She is playfull and bathroom trained (If takeing over every inch of horizontal surface with her stuff in the place is house broken. Then she is the Queen of house brokeness!!!) She has somewhat of a special diet though i never figured it out fully, but pretty much it is dictated by what ever her closes friend of that week is into (Raw, vegan, atkins, hostes) You get the picture. She will be comeing with a whole lot of stuff!! (If it is still there when she comes home, but when iam done here Iam heading right over to the free section so maybe not) There will not be a rehoming fee (As a matter of fact i got $34 cash if you can get her tonight, If you need more we can hit the atm unless you have paypal then we have lots of options) <br />
<br />
The main reason Iam rehoming her is becuase she moved in about 9 months ago, and for three months everything was great, but then she started bitching about my cat. My cat has lived with me for 11 years since he was abandoned in my yard at about 3 weeks old, and i had too bottle feed him and teach him how to do everything a cool male should know (hunt, nap, play, hide, chirp like a bird. how to use a litter box!! This was the most challenging as i did not know how to use one myself. That made for some awkward moments) In other words Misdemeanor and I have been kicking it for a long time, and if she thinks I would even consider kicking him to the curb. Well need i say more? <br />
<br />
I may put her up for auction on ebay tonight if my lawyer gives me the okay. <!-- START CLTAGS -->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-60941556506947690202011-07-03T00:04:00.000-05:002011-07-03T00:04:23.381-05:00~possibly a sa?~<span style="font-size: large;">An old man and woman were married for many years, even though they hated each other. Whenever there was a confrontation, yelling could be heard deep into the night. The old man would shout, 'When I die, I will dig my way up and out of the grave and come back and haunt you for the rest of your life!' </span><br />
<br />
<dd></dd><dd> Neighbors feared him. They believed he practiced magic, because of the many strange occurrences that took place in their neighborhood. The old man liked the fact that he was feared. ---To everyone's relief, he died of a heart attack when he was 98. </dd><dd></dd><dd> His wife had a closed casket at the wake. After the burial, she went straight to the local bar and began to party, as if there was no tomorrow. </dd><dd></dd><dd> Her neighbors, concerned for her safety, asked, 'Aren't you afraid that he may indeed be able to dig his way out of the grave and haunt </dd><dd> you for the rest of your life?' </dd><dd></dd><dd> The wife put down her drink and said, 'Let him dig. I had him buried upside down.. And you know men won't ask for directions.' <br />
<br />
</dd><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-27678371734100541732011-06-29T12:58:00.000-05:002011-06-29T12:58:52.353-05:00So Let's Outsmart the Business DA's and get the jobs back in the US<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3" class="yiv14146696MsoNormalTable"><tbody>
<tr><td style="padding-bottom: 0.75pt; padding-left: 0.75pt; padding-right: 0in; padding-top: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="yiv14146696MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: black;">Any time you call an 800 number<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
(for a credit card, banking, charter communications, health and other insurance, computer help desk, etc)<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
and you find that you're talking to a foreign customer service representative<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
(perhaps in India, Philippines, etc),<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
please consider doing the following:<br />
<br />
After you connect and you realize that the customer service representative is not from the USA<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
(you can always ask if you are not sure about the accent),<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
please, very politely<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
(this is not about trashing other cultures)<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
say, "I'd like to speak to a customer service representative in the United States of America."<br />
<br />
The rep might suggest talking to his/her manager,<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
but, again, politely say, "Thank you, but I'd like to speak to a customer service representative in the USA."<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
YOU WILL BE IMMEDIATELY CONNECTED TO A REP IN THE USA.<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
That's the rule and the LAW.<br />
<br />
It takes less than one minute to have your call re-directed to the USA.<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
Tonight when I got redirected to a USA rep, I asked again to make sure - and yes, she was from Fort Lauderdale.<br />
<br />
Imagine what would happen if every US citizen insisted on talking to only US phone reps from this day on.<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
Imagine how that would ultimately impact the number of US jobs that would need to be created ASAP.<span class="yiv14146696apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
If I tell 10 people to consider this and you tell 10 people to consider doing this - see what I mean...it becomes an exercise in viral marketing 101.<br />
<br />
Remember - the goal here is to restore jobs back here at home - not to be abrupt or rude to a foreign phone rep. You may even get correct answers, good advice, and solutions to your problem - in real English.<br />
<br />
If you agree, please tell 10 people you know, and ask them to tell 10 people they know....etc...etc</span></b><span style="color: black;"></span> <div></div></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div><div class="yiv14146696MsoNormal" style="background: white;"><span style="color: black;"></span><span></span> </div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-37259685785422693372011-06-28T23:41:00.000-05:002011-06-28T23:41:44.744-05:00But then again....what do we know?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BdoeR3M9rxxTB5kyG7zC6i2FSVHKKbYZzj6SCAcT9PEpYgRtMy7iMSjDkKAg8KaMx-0JHbNa8vHlQJFHDVm1S9YkOa4hwqCzPXm8I0Ievdq2UCDWZTmnMXztjWtQOnQIma1jtja8e0bO/s1600/tire+swim+swing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BdoeR3M9rxxTB5kyG7zC6i2FSVHKKbYZzj6SCAcT9PEpYgRtMy7iMSjDkKAg8KaMx-0JHbNa8vHlQJFHDVm1S9YkOa4hwqCzPXm8I0Ievdq2UCDWZTmnMXztjWtQOnQIma1jtja8e0bO/s320/tire+swim+swing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 24pt;">You know by today's standards none of us was suppose to ever make it.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"></span></strong><br />
<span><div class="yiv1331588875msonormal" style="margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;"><strong>HIGH SCHOOL -- 1957 vs. 2011<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></strong></span></div></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 1:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Jack goes quail hunting before school and then pulls into the school parking lot with his shotgun in his truck's gun rack.</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">1957 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack's shotgun, goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack .<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">2011 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 2:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Johnny and Mark get into a fist fight after school.</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">1957 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">2011 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Police called and SWAT team arrives -- they arrest both Johnny and Mark. They are both charged with assault and both expelled even though Johnny started it<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 3:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Jeffrey will not be still in class, he disrupts other students.</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">1957 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Jeffrey sent to the Principal's office and given a good paddling by the Principal. He then returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">2011 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Jeffrey is given huge doses of Ritalin. He becomes a zombie. He is then tested for ADD. The family gets extra money (SSI) from the government because Jeffrey has a disability.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">Scenario 4:</span></u></b></span></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Billy breaks a window in his neighbor's car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">1957 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college and becomes a successful businessman.</span><b><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">2011 -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;">Billy's dad is arrested for child abuse Billy is removed to foster care and joins a gang. The state psychologist is told by Billy's sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison. Billy's mom has an affair with the psychologist. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;"> <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
</span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 5:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school..</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">1957</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><b>-</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mark shares his aspirin with the Principal out on the smoking dock<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">2011</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><b>-</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The police are called and Mark is expelled from school for drug violations. His car is then searched for drugs and weapons. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 6:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Pedro fails high school English.</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">1957</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><b>-</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Pedro goes to summer school, passes English and goes to college.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">2011</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><b>-</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Pedro's cause is taken up by state. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against the state school system and Pedro's English teacher. English is then banned from core curriculum. Pedro is given his diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.<br />
<br />
</span></span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 7:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from the Fourth of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle and blows up a red ant bed.</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br />
</span><b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">1957 -</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Ants die.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">2011 -</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>ATF, Homeland Security and the FBI are all called. Johnny is charged with domestic terrorism. The FBI investigates his parents -- and all siblings are removed from their home and all computers are confiscated. Johnny's dad is placed on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Scenario 8:</span></span></u></b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary hugs him to comfort him.</span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">1957 -</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><b><br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">2011 -</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.<b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 24pt;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Baskerville Old Face; font-size: medium;">This should hit every email inbox to show how stupid we have become!</span></span></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-17579916877697980052011-06-25T00:39:00.001-05:002011-06-28T23:43:19.908-05:00new word<div style="text-align: center;">Heard a new word this morning on the radio...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thought it was a hoot!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">ready....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">wait for it (As Thing #2 would say)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">......Wait</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wait for it....</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">~Narcokleptic~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">What a vision my imagination comes up with</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-60794079371307916822011-06-24T10:33:00.002-05:002011-06-24T10:35:40.586-05:00~The Story of that Age old Question~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPALq7h2pSoNheimKMspKeCyimYJGSVpLR1J_qeqAPZz4rw3-80-vCLIV8otZyvXXVS2nCbvsyQStR93G4qjyBKMsz-V9QiOt1q4A1HtjtmQGn5G0zqbcV4SwrtCdfmCsBBx_mGHQ3zSLA/s1600/%2521cid_C4D17A74243C49BC989EFD9675F5FC22%2540OwnerPC4last.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPALq7h2pSoNheimKMspKeCyimYJGSVpLR1J_qeqAPZz4rw3-80-vCLIV8otZyvXXVS2nCbvsyQStR93G4qjyBKMsz-V9QiOt1q4A1HtjtmQGn5G0zqbcV4SwrtCdfmCsBBx_mGHQ3zSLA/s1600/%2521cid_C4D17A74243C49BC989EFD9675F5FC22%2540OwnerPC4last.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-6684771485480931102011-06-24T10:27:00.000-05:002011-06-24T10:27:57.571-05:00One DA down....<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 18pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Curlz MT;"><strong>Weiner limerick</strong></span></span><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br />
<span style="font-family: Curlz MT; font-size: large;"><strong>There once was a pervert named Weiner<br />
Who had a sarcastic demeanor<br />
Forced from the Hill<br />
For acting like Bill<br />
Now Congress is one wiener leaner</strong></span></span></span></span></div><div><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Curlz MT; font-size: large;"></span></span></span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZF5UtHfdW82KyzyFm80OtXIKjoODn1-v-qw1BMKOTK9J3AfPPCMXQTGJh7KjX1887dT7HQ_odOlSfOKniKf5txnqcLGfnCQ_5_sbi3tOhWi3Av8L6hFZ6WM_5uJ6Z7w1AEc0D0h4SeHk/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicZF5UtHfdW82KyzyFm80OtXIKjoODn1-v-qw1BMKOTK9J3AfPPCMXQTGJh7KjX1887dT7HQ_odOlSfOKniKf5txnqcLGfnCQ_5_sbi3tOhWi3Av8L6hFZ6WM_5uJ6Z7w1AEc0D0h4SeHk/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><div><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"></span> </span></span></div><!-- end of AOLMsgPart_1_049592d3-ea1b-40b6-9246-30682d8eb085 -->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-23438138814151012952011-06-22T13:14:00.000-05:002011-06-22T13:14:32.670-05:00~Happy Hump Day~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9jByod2fYIvR5tkK-O5SeqbLaPDe8qIpdQTgtMSsgOWIUnZRBWIFHugacTCdNSun6L1dGVa_H0Ltyd2-_zLbLVJ_d5xEWUBxcCPj7S9ICMiq-W6Iva-ZnvQSdMLng3So1oISWhMEfHeB/s1600/imagesCAYFX1DS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9jByod2fYIvR5tkK-O5SeqbLaPDe8qIpdQTgtMSsgOWIUnZRBWIFHugacTCdNSun6L1dGVa_H0Ltyd2-_zLbLVJ_d5xEWUBxcCPj7S9ICMiq-W6Iva-ZnvQSdMLng3So1oISWhMEfHeB/s1600/imagesCAYFX1DS.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">So that explains it.. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Who knew?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisv_56YRH-ataSWKN943RE1KAU-dv-9v001pc9WTdcren_LCdFO9pXGeL2Zkq6GjRnzvFFRYcSDyTfUup4rxHH6MONDm0Q80Po6PTT_2yUAv64iESZNibo5kTkwx8zG_YG4DBrSRO7acP-/s1600/imagesCA3MYAHD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisv_56YRH-ataSWKN943RE1KAU-dv-9v001pc9WTdcren_LCdFO9pXGeL2Zkq6GjRnzvFFRYcSDyTfUup4rxHH6MONDm0Q80Po6PTT_2yUAv64iESZNibo5kTkwx8zG_YG4DBrSRO7acP-/s1600/imagesCA3MYAHD.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjovUjsSoC4esaEL9OQBvf3aM_TpBM78aBrpOCPd4SCyB9o8vs9HBtaT_nSAmJ1SfKZEN8diER0neTNvvsHFQlaEarzLiEWOuLPMwV12Rme0px2LhVDm7WOMjxBvBzsjOuURt9Lhjlr65AI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjovUjsSoC4esaEL9OQBvf3aM_TpBM78aBrpOCPd4SCyB9o8vs9HBtaT_nSAmJ1SfKZEN8diER0neTNvvsHFQlaEarzLiEWOuLPMwV12Rme0px2LhVDm7WOMjxBvBzsjOuURt9Lhjlr65AI/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-5156572862531433722011-06-21T00:23:00.000-05:002011-06-21T00:23:18.104-05:00When a DA should take up golf...<iframe width="425" height="349" src="<a href="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mArGzsNglCU">http://www.youtube.com/embed/mArGzsNglCU</a>" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-739292541293749907.post-64932021753760758262011-06-19T23:30:00.000-05:002011-06-19T23:30:04.135-05:00My dad: " Butler to Tha Man"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnl1wKPmtOWkZL7y02FyQaJZGoZbAk7JJbKFKuvsdHAROFOOcb3vj2uV-d4V30MAVaUwGdb5sA4d_U8vePoFOdIUQl3LL__3rN7NtCN8eCKghQMd2a_w1QYelVZ6CRflhhNtmNz-XSMkfw/s1600/bad_butler.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnl1wKPmtOWkZL7y02FyQaJZGoZbAk7JJbKFKuvsdHAROFOOcb3vj2uV-d4V30MAVaUwGdb5sA4d_U8vePoFOdIUQl3LL__3rN7NtCN8eCKghQMd2a_w1QYelVZ6CRflhhNtmNz-XSMkfw/s320/bad_butler.bmp" width="226" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Today is Father's Day. So I did what probably most loving daughter's do.. remininence about my Dear Old Pops. I am so incredibly blessed in that I was given one of the Best that ever walked the face of this old earth. No kidding!! And Praise God, he's still here and walking here today. I was telling an old friend that I consider my dad one of my best friends. (Mom and I are close, but Daddy and I are kindred spirits..we think,view and react to our world in many of the same ways). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So as I was thinking, I suddenly remembered one of the funniest instances in which my Mother was able to cook my Dad's goose really well. Our family tree has some very interesting twigs, branches and apples that fell off way too soon. And I have learned that survival these days requires a good dose of humor and laughter. And the ability to laugh at oneself is right up there with waking up on the right side of the bed. My dad's main role in our family to that which I considered most was not breadwinner, leader, provider or main food hunter. My reflection is that of home entertainer and humorous harrasser. Not one member of our family was off limits. His work kept him away from us many hours of most days. But when he was home.. He was home.. And he was always making us laugh and tormenting us in a playful way.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">We three kids were structurally planned for college educations that spread us out so my educator parents could afford to send us to those colleges. That meant that there are 12 yrs. between my first and last sibling. We have always been a very tight knit group. And laughter is a pre requisite for any and every occasion. Oh yea.. and nothing is off limits. My father was born and raised in Virginia which meant travel to visit his folks was very sparse given the high cost to get us all out there and scheduled time off. I always cherished the trips and time spent together as a family. But truth be said.. those road trips were a butt numbing experience also. It would take us 3 days to get there and then 3 days to get home in the family car. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> I am thankful now for the long time we spent riding, because the trips taught me to appreciate the flavor and history of our great country. All of us were history buffs. And I wonder what would have happened if one of us didn't follow that way of thinking. Would we have been dropped off on the side of the road for complaining, crying and pitching a hissy fit?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I'm not certain but we may be a candidate for the most historical roadside marker stops in one childhood. While some kids learn multiplication facts or other mundane facts.. we stopped at just about every presidential birthplace, home, museum, Civil War Battlefield, marker spot on the roadmap. And we were all sponges to all of that history. My brother became an expert before he hit the 2nd grade in the Civil War knowledge. And these stops did me very well in my history classes too. So we were very blessed to have a flavorful and very real sense of our history and belonging.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">My poor mom had never had any desire to leave the state of Texas.. EVER. She was happy exactly where she was and didn't thrive or enjoy the long rides of these trips. And now being a mom to 2 very mischievious rug rats myself.. I am completely overwhelmed w/a sense of LOVE and Gratitude they both possessed in not leaving our fighting, jealous. petty arguing butts somewhere on a desolated and God foresaken road in a backwoods state just to get some peace and quiet. By day three, it seemed like we were all hanging on by a short single thread just praying that we would GET THERE ALREADY so we could see my grandparents. That was one very long trip. And nerves were getting raw. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">So to help the time pass faster, Daddy would inevitably start cranking up his jokes and harrassment. He would pick at us and pick at us. Fortunately for us, (but not to my MOM), he would really lay it hard on teasing my mom. She took it in good stride as best she could. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">But the worse of the trip was always last. In order to get to my grandparents retirement home meant going up and up up a narrow and rural mountain road. They owned almost 30 of the most beautiful acres in the Blue Ridge Mtn. range. Their land stopped at the very top. Unfortunately, to get to it, you had to practically crawl on a switchback pattern to make your way safely up. That road always made her nervous and sick. And Daddy never helped when he would start teasing her about it at the beginning of the 3rd day of travel so she could get really worked up just thinking about it. Daddy was pretty much in control of these trips.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Except for once. I believe that Mama had decided she was sick and tired of taking the brunt of my Dad's jokes and teasing. So she did what any great comic might do. Instead of her usual self depreciating jokes--she seeked a hilarious alternative. My brother who had just finished K was eating up all the history and facts he was exposed to while on this tripand his first class of schooling. So Mama started feeding him the best line she ever gave him. She started telling him the story about how Daddy had withheld the fact that he had been George Washingon's butler when he had lived in Va. before he moved to Texas. She had such a straight face and couldn't have laid that out any better. The look on my Dad's face was priceless. She had laid the shock and awe on him and he didn't even know where or how to respond. I remember trying so hard not to laugh, cause I realized she had just sucker- punched him good. And it was priceless to witness. My mind told me that if I laughed, then my brother would figure out it was all a joke. And I was dying to see how this one would play out. Almost like one for the team.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Boy did my little brother jump on this one. He was incredulous and so incredibly happy, curious and amazed that his daddy had been involved in such great history with no less than the Father of our Country!..He started rambling off questions 90 miles and minute. And my dad still didn't know how to respond. He started laughing and gave my mom the best "Truce, You got me look". This went on for several miles. And if I remember correctly, that scary stretch of roadway up the Taylor Mtn. was pretty peaceful and quiet that day. Oh yea.. and it took a long time for my brother to get the entire gist that it was all a joke. He so wanted to tell his friends about George.. The George..</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div align="center"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13064311641932440242noreply@blogger.com0