Message by George Carlin

 A Message by George Carlin:

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways , but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. W e plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete...

Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that litt le person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

If you don't send this to at least 8 people....Who cares?

George Carlin

Orderly Desk vs. Creativity

There's an old saying that seems to apply: Creative minds are rarely tidy. I've used that often to explain my desk/workspace.

A picture is worth a thousand words...........

A person's mind and his desk........... William F. Buckley Nat Hentoff Albert Einstein

Missing Cat LMFAO

Shannon (the secretary) has lost her cat and has asked David (the graphic designer) to help with a lost poster. This is their email correspondence... From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.15am To: David Thorne Subject: Poster Hi I opened the screen door yesterday and my cat got out and has been missing since then so I was wondering if you are not to busy you could make a poster for me. It has to be A4 and I will photocopy it and put it around my suburb this afternoon. This is the only photo of her I have she answers to the name Missy and is black and white and about 8 months old. missing on Harper street and my phone number. Thanks Shan.

____________________________________________________

From:David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.26am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Poster

Dear Shannon, That is shocking news. Luckily I was sitting down when I read your email and not half way up a ladder or tree. How are you holding up? I am surprised you managed to attend work at all what with thinking about Missy out there cold, frightened and alone... possibly lying on the side of the road, her back legs squashed by a vehicle, calling out "Shannon, where are you?" Although I have two clients expecting completed work this afternoon, I will, of course, drop everything and do whatever it takes to facilitate the speedy return of Missy. Regards, David. ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.37am To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Poster yeah ok thanks. I know you dont like cats but I am really worried about mine. I have to leave at 1pm today. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.17am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Poster Dear Shannon, I never said I don't like cats. Once, having been invited to a party, I went clothes shopping beforehand and bought a pair of expensive G-Star boots. They were two sizes too small but I wanted them so badly I figured I could just wear them without socks and cut my toenails very short. As the party was only a few blocks from my place, I decided to walk. After the first block, I lost all feeling in my feet. Arriving at the party, I stumbled into a guy named Steven, spilling Malibu & coke onto his white Wham 'Choose Life' t-shirt, and he punched me. An hour or so after the incident, Steven sat down in a chair already occupied by a cat. The surprised cat clawed and snarled causing Steven to leap out of the chair, slip on a rug and strike his forehead onto the corner of a speaker; resulting in a two inch open gash. In its shock, the cat also defecated, leaving Steven with a foul stain down the back of his beige cargo pants. I liked that cat. Attached poster as requested. Regards, David. ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.24am To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster yeah thats not what I was looking for at all. it looks like a movie and how come the photo of Missy is so small? ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.28am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster Dear Shannon, It's a design thing. The cat is lost in the negative space. Regards, David. ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.33am To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster Thats just stupid. Can you do it properly please? I am extremely emotional over this and was up all night in tears. you seem to think it is funny. Can you make the photo bigger please and fix the text and do it in colour please. Thanks. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.46am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster Dear Shannon, Having worked with designers for a few years now, I would have assumed you understood, despite our vague suggestions otherwise, we do not welcome constructive criticism. I don't come downstairs and tell you how to send text messages, log onto Facebook and look out of the window. I am willing to overlook this faux pas due to you no doubt being preoccupied with thoughts of Missy attempting to make her way home across busy intersections or being trapped in a drain as it slowly fills with water. I spent three days down a well once but that was just for fun. I have amended and attached the poster as per your instructions. Regards, David. ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.59am To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster This is worse than the other one. can you make it so it shows the whole photo of Missy and delete the stupid text that says missing missy off it? I just want it to say Lost. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.14am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.21am To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster yeah can you do the poster or not? I just want a photo and the word lost and the telephone number and when and where she was lost and her name. Not like a movie poster or anything stupid. I have to leave early today. If it was your cat I would help you. Thanks. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.32am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Awww Dear Shannon, I don't have a cat. I once agreed to look after a friend's cat for a week but after he dropped it off at my apartment and explained the concept of kitty litter, I kept the cat in a closed cardboard box in the shed and forgot about it. If I wanted to feed something and clean faeces, I wouldn't have put my mother in that home after her stroke. A week later, when my friend came to collect his cat, I pretended that I was not home and mailed the box to him. Apparently I failed to put enough stamps on the package and he had to collect it from the post office and pay eighteen dollars. He still goes on about that sometimes, people need to learn to let go. I have attached the amended version of your poster as per your detailed instructions. Regards, David. ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.47am To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Awww Thats not my cat. where did you get that picture from? That cat is orange. I gave you a photo of my cat. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 11.58am To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Awww I know, but that one is cute. As Missy has quite possibly met any one of several violent ends, it is possible you might get a better cat out of this. If anybody calls and says "I haven't seen your orange cat but I did find a black and white one with its hind legs run over by a car, do you want it?" you can politely decline and save yourself a costly veterinarian bill. I knew someone who had a basset hound that had its hind legs removed after an accident and it had to walk around with one of those little buggies with wheels. If it had been my dog I would have asked for all its legs to be removed and replaced with wheels and had a remote control installed. I could charge neighbourhood kids for rides and enter it in races. If I did the same with a horse I could drive it to work. I would call it Steven. Regards, David. ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.07pm To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Awww Please just use the photo I gave you. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.22pm To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww

____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.34pm To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww I didnt say there was a reward. I dont have $2000 dollars. What did you even put that there for? Apart from that it is perfect can you please remove the reward bit. Thanks Shan. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.42pm To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.51pm To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww Can you just please take the reward bit off altogether? I have to leave in ten minutes and I still have to make photocopies of it. ____________________________________________________

From: David Thorne Date: Monday 21 June 2010 12.56pm To: Shannon Walkley Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww ____________________________________________________

From: Shannon Walkley Date: Monday 21 June 2010 1.03pm To: David Thorne Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Awww Fine. That will have to do.

Sh*t My Dad Says

I haven't really posted anything in a minute so I had to share this... Sh*t My Dad Says A 29 year old guy lives with his 74 year old dad so you can imagine the kind of humor. It's good stuff but I've been known to have a somewhat sarcastic sense of humor. LOL

Tech Support

Hello, technical support, how can I help you?

LADY: 'Last night my computer started making a lot of hissing noise

at me so I shut it down. This morning when I turned it on

the computer started hissing and cracking,

then started smoking and a bad smell, then nothing'.

SUPPORT: 'I will have a technician come over first thing this

Morning, and leave the computer just like it is, so they can find

the problem and fix it, or change it out with another computer.

Give me your address; phone number and the technician will be

there just as soon as he can'.

When the technician got there, the lady showed the technician

where the computer was, said what happened to it, this is what

the technician found wrong. Take a look at the pictures...you

won't believe your eyes!!!!!

And you thought you had computer problems!

The technician told her: 'It must have been after the mouse!'

The woman didn't think it was very funny at all!

For Women to Better Understand Men

1. Because I'm a man, when I lock my keys in the car, I will fiddle with a wire long after hypothermia has set in.

2. Because I'm a man, when the car isn't running very well, I will pop the hood and stare at the engine as if I know what I'm looking at. If another man shows up, one of us will say to the other, "I used to be able to fix these things, but now with all these computers and everything, I wouldn't know where to start." We will then drink beer.

3. Because I'm a man, when I catch a cold, I need someone to bring me soup and take care of me while I lie in bed and moan. You're a woman. You never get as sick as I do, so for you this isn't a problem.

4. Because I'm a man, I can be relied upon to purchase basic groceries at the store, like milk or bread. I cannot be expected to find exotic items like "cumin" or "tofu". For all I know, these are the same thing. And never, under any circumstances, expect me to pick up anything for which feminine hygiene product is a euphemism. (F.Y.I. guys, cumin is a spice.)

5. Because I'm a man, when one of our appliances stops working, I will insist on taking it apart, despite evidence that this will just cost me twice as much, once the repair person gets here and has to put it back together.

6. Because I'm a man, I must hold the television remote control in my hand while I watch TV. If the thing has been misplaced, I may miss a whole show looking for it (though one time I was able to survive by holding a calculator).

7. Because I'm a man, there is not need to ask me what I'm thinking about. The answer is always either sex, cars or football. I have to make up something else when you ask, so don't ask.

8. Because I'm a man, I do not want to visit your mother, or have your mother come visit us, or talk to her when she calls, or think about her any more than I have to. Whatever you got her for Mother's Day is okay; I don't need to see it. And don't forget to pick up something for my mother, too.

9. Because I'm a man, you don't have to ask me if I liked the movie. Chances are, if you're crying at the end of it, I didn't.

10. Because I'm a man, I think what you're wearing is fine. I thought what you were wearing five minutes ago was fine, too. Either pair of shoes is fine. With the belt or without it looks fine. Your hair is fine. You look fine...can we just go now?

11. Because I'm a man, and this is after all the year 2009, I will share equally in the housework. You just do the laundry, the cooking, the gardening, the cleaning, the vacuuming and the dishes - and I'll do the rest.

Brian & Eileen's Wedding Music Video. from LOCKDOWN projects on Vimeo.

Why Men Are Never Depressed

Men Are Just Happier People-- What do you expect from such simple creatures? Your last name stays put. The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. You can be President. You can never be pregnant. You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. You can wear NO shirt to a water park. Car mechanics tell you the truth. The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt. Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. Wedding dress $5000. Tux rental-$100. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet. One mood all the time.

Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks. A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.

Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes. Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. You only have to shave your face and neck. You can play with toys all your life. One wallet and one pair of shoes -- one color for all seasons. You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. You can 'do' your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.

You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.

No wonder men are happier.

Dear God

There was a man who worked for the Post Office whose job it was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses. One day, a letter came addressed in a shaky handwriting to God with no actual address. He thought he should open it to see what it was about.

The letter read: "Dear God, I am an 83 year old widow, living on a very small pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100 in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension check. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. Can you please help me? Sincerely, Edna

The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all the other workers. Each one dug into his or her wallet and came up with a few dollars. By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96, which they put into an envelope and sent to the woman. The rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of Edna and the dinner she would be able to share with her friends. Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from the> same old lady to God. All the workers gathered around while the letter was opened.

It read,

"Dear God, How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your gift of love, I was able to fix a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day and I told my friends of your wonderful gift. By the way, there was $4 missing. I think it must have been those bastards at the Post Office

Christmas Songs for the Psychiatrically Challenged

Schizophrenia --- Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personality Disorder --- We Three Queens Disoriented Are

Amnesia --- I Don't Know if I'll be Home for Christmas

Narcissistic --- Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me

Manic --- Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets andStores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees andFire Hydrants and ...

Paranoid --- Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me

Borderline Personality Disorder --- Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire

Personality Disorder --- You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'mGonna Pout, Maybe I'll tell You Why

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder ---Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, JingleBells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, JingleBells, Jingle Bells ...

Agoraphobia --- I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day But Wouldn't Leave My House

Autistic --- Jingle Bell Rock and Rock and Rock and Rock ...

Senile Dementia --- Walking in a Winter Wonderland Miles From My House in My Slippers and Robe

Oppositional Defiant Disorder --- I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus So I Burned Down the House

Social Anxiety Disorder --- Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas While I Sit Here and Hyperventilate

Why?

Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are getting weak?

Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough?

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

Why doesn't glue stick to the bottle it comes in?

Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?

Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?

Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him?

Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Whose idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"?

If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?

Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white?

Is there! ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?

Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized?

Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance?

Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end you first try?

How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures?

When we are in the supermarket and someone rams our ankle with a shopping cart then apologizes for doing so, why do we say, "It's all right?" Well, it isn't all right so why don't we say, "That hurt, you stupid idiot?"

Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table you always manage to knock something else over?

In winter why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in! summer when we complained about the heat?

How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?

If at first you don't succeed, shouldn't you try doing it like your wife told you to do it?

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends, if they're okay, then it's you......

Detachment

One day, my son brought a gerbil home to live with us. We put it in a cage. Some time later, the gerbil escaped. For the next six months, the animal ran frightened and wild through the house. So did we - chasing it.

"There it is. Get it!" we'd scream, each time someone spotted the gerbil. I, or my son, would throw down whatever we were working on, race across the house, and lunge at the animal hoping to catch it.

I worried about it, even when we didn't see it. "This isn't right," I'd think. "I can't have a gerbil running loose in the house. We've got to catch it. We've got to do something."

A small animal, the size of a mouse had the entire household in a tizzy.

One day, while sitting in the living room, I watched the animal scurry across the hallway. In frenzy, I started to lunge at it, as I usually did, then I stopped myself.

No, I said, I'm all done. If that animal wants to live in the nooks and crannies of this house, I'm going to let it. I'm done worrying about it. I'm done chasing it. It's an irregular circumstance, but that's just the way it's going to have to be.

I let the gerbil run past without reacting. I felt slightly uncomfortable with my new reaction - not reacting - but I stuck to it anyway.

I got more comfortable with my new reaction - not reacting. Before long, I became downright peaceful with the situation. I had stopped fighting the gerbil. One afternoon, only weeks after I started practicing my new attitude, the gerbil ran by me, as it had so many times, and I barely glanced at it. The animal stopped in its tracks, turned around, and looked at me. I started to lunge at it. It started to run away. I relaxed.

"Fine," I said. "Do what you want." And I meant it.

One hour later, the gerbil came and stood by me, and waited. I gently picked it up and placed it in its cage, where it has lived happily ever since. The moral of the story? Don't lunge at the gerbil. He's already frightened, and chasing him just scares him more and makes us crazy.

Detachment works.

Today, I will be comfortable with my new reaction - not reacting. I will feel at peace.

Welfare

A guy walks into the local welfare office for his monthly check. He marches straight up to the counter and says, "Hi! You know, I just Hate coming in here drawing welfare month after month. I'd really much rather have a job."

The social worker behind the counter says, "Your timing is excellent. We just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur-bodyguard for his nymphomaniac daughter. You'll have to drive around in his Mercedes, but he'll supply all of your clothes. Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You'll be expected to escort her on her overseas holiday trips. You'll have a two-bedroom apartment above the garage. The starting salary is $200,000 a year."

The guy says, "You're bullshitting me!"

The social worker says, "Yeah, well, you started it."

Texas Chili Cook-Off

Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better. For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is.

They actually have a chili cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio city park. The notes are from an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield, IL.

Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Coors Light beer truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted."

Here are the scorecards from the event: Frank is Judge #3.

Chili # 1 - Eddie's Maniac Monster Chili...

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

Judge # 3 -- (Frank) Holy sh*t! What the hell is this stuff?! You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put out the flames. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.

Chili # 2 - Austin's Afterburner Chili...
Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor; needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

Chili # 3 - Ronny's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili...
Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.

Judge # 2 -- A beanless chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.

Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill... My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting sh*t-faced from all of the beer...

Chili # 4 - Dave's Black Magic..
Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish, or other mild foods; not much of a chili.

Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb. woman is starting to look HOT...just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?

Chili # 5 - Lisa's Legal Lip Remover... Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really ticked me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.

Chili # 6 - Pam's Very Vegetarian Variety...
Judge # 1 -- Thin, yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. I sh*t on myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Sally. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.

Chili # 7 - Carla's Screaming Sensation Chili...
Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho-hum; tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress, as he is cursing uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me I've decided to stop breathing; it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili # 8 - Karen's Toenail Curling Chili...
Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold, but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild, nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 farted, passed out, fell over, and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor fella, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili?

Ummm...Chics For Sale? LMAO

Genius vs. Stupidity

The difference between genius and stupidity is that there is a limit to genius.

I Couldn't Resist...

My sick ass couldn't resist posting this one. LMAO http://albinoblacksheep.com/flash/stfu.php

Ray & Bessie

An elderly couple, Ray and Bessie, are "snowbirds" in Texas. Ray has always wanted a pair of authentic cowboy boots. Seeing some on sale one day, he buys them and wears them home, walking proudly. He saunters into the house and says to his wife, "Notice anything different about me?"

Bessie looks him over and says, "Nope."

Frustrated, Ray storms off into the bathroom, undresses, and walks back into the room, completely naked --- except for the boots. Again he asks, a little louder this time, "Notice anything DIFFERENT NOW?"

Bessie looks up and says, "Ray, what's different? It's hanging down today, it was hanging down yesterday, and it'll be hanging down again tomorrow."

Furious, Ray yells, "AND DO YOU KNOW WHY IT'S HANGING DOWN, BESSIE?? IT'S HANGING DOWN BECAUSE IT'S LOOKING AT MY NEW BOOTS!"

To which Bessie replies, "Shoulda bought a hat, Ray. Shoulda bought a hat."

Doing Time in the Service

One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex was staring up atthe large plaque that hung in the foyer of the church. It was covered with names, and small American flags were mounted on either side of it.

The seven year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, "Good morning, Alex." "Good morning, Pastor," replied the young man, still focused on the plaque.

"Pastor, what is this?" "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."Soberly, they stood together, staring at the large plaque. Little Alex's voice was barely audible, trembling with fear, when he asked, "Which service, the 9:30 or the 11:15?"

The Net Night Before Christmas

THE NET NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS by Hugh Drumm & Vincent Ambrose 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through theNet, There were hacker's a surfing. Nerds? Yeah, you bet. The e-mails were stacked by the modem with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The newbies were nestled all snug by their screens, While visions of Java danced in their dreams. My wife on the sofa and me with a snack, We just settled down at my rig (it's a Mac). When out in the Web there arose such a clatter, I jumped to the site to see what was the matter. To a new page my Mac flew like a flash, Then made a slight gurgle. It started to crash!! I gasped at the thought and started to grouse, Then turned my head sideways and clicked on my mouse. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, My Mac jumped to a page that wasn't quite clear. When the image resolved, so bright and so quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick! More rapid than mainframes, more graphics they came, Then Nick glanced at my screen, my Mac called them byname; "Now Compaq! Now Acer!", my speaker did reel; "On Apple! On Gateway!" Santa started to squeal! "Jump onto the circuits! And into the chip! Now speed it up! Speed it up! Make this thing hip!" The screen gave a flicker, he was into my RAM, Then into my room rose a full hologram! He was dressed in all red, from his head to his shoes, Which were black (the white socks he really shouldlose). He pulled out some discs he had stored in his backpack. Santa looked like a dude who was rarin' to hack! His eyes, how they twinkled! His glasses, how techno! This ain't the same Santa that I used to know! With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head, Santa soon let me know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, gave my Mac a quick poke, And accessed my C drive with only a stroke. He defragged my hard drive, and added a SIMM, Then threw in some cool games, just on a whim! He worked without noise, his fingers they flew! He distorted some pictures with Kai's Power Goo! He updated Office, Excel and Quicken, Then added a screensaver with a red clucking chicken! My eyes widened a bit, my mouth stood agape, As he added the latest version of Netscape. The drive gave a whirl, as if it were pleased, St. Nick coyly smiled, the computer appeased. Then placing his finger on the bridge of his nose, Santa turned into nothing but ones and zeros! He flew back into my screen and through my uplink, Back into the net with barely a blink. But I heard his sweet voice as he flew from my sight, "Happy surfing to all, and to all a good byte!"