In Nov. 6-12 Issue
Well it looks like we will have a new president. Although the election is still undecided at the time of writing this column, it appear our new president will be Obama.
It is still hard for us to believe that we are going to have a president with such big ears. It looks like we may have to put away our “I Like Ike” button and place out plaster bust of Nixon in the closet.
We must admit that we are fairly excited that we are about to have out taxes lowered and those rich in the top 5% are going to have to share their wealth with us. Just wonder how soon we can expect our new shares to be delivered. Very soon we are sure.
A drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends late one night. He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet.
"What's with that big brass gong?" one of the guests asked.
"It's not a gong. It's a talking clock," the drunk replied.
"A talking clock? Seriously?" asked his astonished friend.
"Yup," replied the drunk.
"How's it work?" the friend asked, squinting at it.
"Watch," the drunk replied. He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering pound, and stepped back. The three stood looking at one another for a moment.
Suddenly, someone on the other side of the wall screamed,
"You idiot! It's one-fifteen in the morning!"
We probably would fit very well in this next story. We have a tendency to stop at all railroad crossing and yard sales.
A lady was taking her time browsing through everything at a yard sale and said to the homeowner, "My husband is going to be very angry when he finds out I stopped at a yard sale."
"I'm sure he'll understand when you tell him about all the bargains," the homeowner replied.
"Normally, yes," the lady said. "But he just broke his leg, and he's waiting for me to take him to the hospital to have it set."
We found these in Pauline’s e-mails. and thought we would share them....these are not for the men...
One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his Sweatshirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, 'What setting do I use on the washing machine?'
'It depends,' I replied. 'What does it say on your shirt?'
He yelled back, ' University of Oklahoma .'
And they say women are challenged
'It's just too hot to wear clothes today,' Jack says as he stepped out of the shower, 'honey, what do you think the neighbours would think if I mowed the lawn like this?'
'Probably that I married you for your money,' she replied.
Q: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man?
A: A rumour
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; And Patience for his moods. Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, I'll beat him to death.
Q: Why do little boys whine?
A: They are practising to be men.
Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name?
A: You did not hold the pillow down long enough.
Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder 'Instruction Manual.'
Why do we love children? Check out these.
I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!'
On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents.''
A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, 'What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a little boy before?'
While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop? Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report. My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?' 'Yes, that's right,' I told her. 'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?'
It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me. 'Is that a dog you got back there?' he asked.
'It sure is,' I replied.
Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, 'What'd he do?'
While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!'
A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, 'Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit.'
'And why not, darling?'
'You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning.'
While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes.' (I want this line used at my funeral!)
A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'