MikeL

SENIOR CITIZENS ARE THE NATION'S LEADING CARRIERS OF AIDS! HEARING AIDS BAND AIDS ROLL AIDS WALKING AIDS MEDICAL AIDS GOVERNMENT AIDS MOST OF ALL, MONETARY AID TO THEIR KIDS! Not forgetting HIV (Hair is Vanishing)

Thanks for sharing this, James. I hope fewer and fewer teens are having to live with such bigotry these days. I'm prompted to ask two questions: 1. What is the attraction in Mississippi that keeps you there? 2. The red Mustang you pictured is a real beauty, but the background doesn't look like any part of Mississippi I know. Where is it?

If it fits, I sits: https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=-Jv7X-SYxUk Please excuse the few dogs pictured here.

Advice from Curtis & Leroy: Limit all US politicians to two terms; One in office, one in prison.

Hooray! A limerick!

Wedding cakes? Why not divorce cakes, too?

THE WINTER OF OUR DISCOUNT TENT Groan...but I like it.

At a wine merchant, the regular taster died and the director started looking for a new one to hire. A drunkard with a ragged, dirty look came in to apply for the position. The director of the winery wondered how to send him away. He gave him a glass to drink. The drunk tried it and said: "It's a Muscat , three years old, grown on a north slope, matured in steel containers. Low grade, but acceptable." "That's correct", said the boss. Another glass..."It's a cabernet, eight years old, a south-western slope, oak barrels, matured at 8 degrees. Requires three more years for finest results." "Correct." A third glass...''It's a pinot blanc champagne, high grade and exclusive,'' calmly said the drunk. The director was astonished. He winked at his secretary, secretly suggesting something. She left the room, and came back in with a glass of urine. The alcoholic tried it. "It's a blonde, 26 years old, three months pregnant - and if I don't get the job, I'll name the father." Ciao, Y'all

Happy Birthday, John!

Computer Repair Caller: Hi, our printer is not working. Customer Service: What is wrong with it? Caller: Mouse is jammed. Customer Service: Mouse? Printers don't have a mouse. Caller: Mmmmm? Oh really? I will send a picture...

White Christmas...one of many versions:

An old Doberman starts chasing rabbits and before long, discovers that he's lost. Wandering about, he notices a panther heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch. The Doberman thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep trouble now!" Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the panther is about to leap, the old Doberman exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious panther! I wonder, if there are any more around here?" Hearing this, the young panther halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. "Whew!," says the panther, "That was close! That old Doberman nearly had me!" Meanwhile, a squirrel who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the panther. So, off he goes. The squirrel soon catches up with the panther, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the panther. The young panther is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, squirrel, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!" Now, the old Doberman sees the panther coming with the squirrel on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?," but instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old Doberman says ...... "Where's that squirrel? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another panther!" Moral of this story... Don't mess with the old dogs... Age and cunning will always overcome youth and enthusiasm!

Christmas at Rock-Away Rest Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest, And all of us seniors were looking our best. Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry; Our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry. A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap. We surely were lucky to be there with friends, Secure in this residence and in our Depends. Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts, Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts. The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth, And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath. The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row, Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow. Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop -- Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top. Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great, Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate. The social director then had us play games, Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?" Old Grandfather Cooper was feeling his oats, Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats. Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair, In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there. Security lights on the new fallen snow Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below. Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter (But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter). A strange little fellow flew in through the door, Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor. Twas just our director, all togged out in red. He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head. We knew from the way that he strutted and jived Our social- security checks had arrived. We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak, Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. Stroke. And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds. While nurses distributed nocturnal meds. And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest. Before long you'll be with us, We wish you the best!

Happy Birthday, Benji!

One day, in line at the company cafeteria, Bill says to Mike behind him, "My elbow hurts like the dickens! I guess I'd better see a doctor." "Listen, you don't have to spend that kind of money," Mike replies. "There's a diagnostic computer down at Wal-Mart. Just give it a urine sample and the computer will tell you what's wrong and what to do about it. It takes ten seconds and costs $10. A lot cheaper than a doctor." So, Bill collects a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Wal-Mart. He deposits $10, and the computer lights up and asks for the urine sample. He pours the sample into the slot and waits. Ten seconds later, the computer ejects a printout: You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and Epsom salts, found in aisle 2. Avoid heavy activity. It will improve in 2 weeks. Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart. That evening, while thinking how amazing this new technology was, Bill began wondering if the computer could be fooled. He mixed some tap water, a stool sample from his dog, urine samples from his wife and daughter, and a sperm sample for good measure. Bill hurries back to Wal-Mart, eager to check the results. He deposits $10, pours in his concoction, and waits for the results. The computer prints the following: 1. Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener. (Aisle 9) 2. Your dog has ringworm.. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo. (Aisle 7) 3. Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab. 4. Your wife is pregnant. Twins. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer. 5. If you don't stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get better! Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart.

THE DUCK IS DEAD! A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away." The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet.. "How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something." The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room. The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck." The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman. The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried, "$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!" The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $150."

Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary... Day 983 of my captivity... My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Idiots. There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...