A mess on Thursday

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, totally worn out and screaming........ "WOO HOO what a ride!"
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One-Liners -------------------
I've still got it, but nobody wants to see it.
I'm getting into swing dancing. Not on purpose some parts of my body are just prone to swinging.
It's scary when you start making the same noises as your coffee-maker.
I think I've reached my sexpiration date. People our age can still enjoy an active, passionate sex life! Provided we get cable or that dish thing.
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The night before her wedding, Rose talked with her mother. "Mom," she said, "I want you to teach me how to make my new husband happy."
The mother took a deep breath and began, "When two people love, honour, and respect each other, love can be a very beautiful thing..."
"I know how to screw, mother," Rose interrupted. "I want you to teach me how to make a great lasagne."


Little Johnny and little Bobby and in a verbal battle, "my father is better than your father!" said Bobby.
"No, he's not!" said Johnny.
"My brother is better than your brother!" said Bobby.
"No, he's not!" said Johnny.
"My mother is better than your mother!" said Bobby.
Little Johnny paused for a moment and said: "well you've got me there. My father says the same thing."
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It was just a simple misunderstanding, your Honour," testified the man charged with indecent exposure.
"Explain that statement?" demanded the Judge.
"Well, you see, this girl and I were drinking in a bar and she asked me what I wanted most in a woman. So I showed her!"



An old lady dies and goes to heaven and is chatting to St Peter at the Pearly Gates when all of a sudden she hears the most awful blood-curdling screams.
"Don't worry about that," says St. Peter, "it's only someone having the holes bored on their shoulder blades for the wings."
The old lady looks a little uncomfortable as St. Peter explains how Heaven works.
Ten minutes later, there are more blood-curdling screams.
"Oh my God," says the old lady, "now what's happening"?
"Not to worry," says St. Peter, "they are just having their head drilled to fit the halo."
"I can't do this," says the old lady, "I'm off down to hell."
"You can't go there," says St. Peter, "you'll be raped and sodomized."
"Yes, but I've already got the holes for that."

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A city cop was on his horse waiting to cross the street when a little girl named Mary who was on her new shiny bike stopped beside him.
"Nice bike," the cop said. "Did Santa bring it to you?"
"Yep," the little girl said, "he sure did!"
The cop looked the bike over and handed the girl a $20 ticket for a safety violation.
The cop said, "Next year tell Santa to put a reflector light on the back of it."
Mary looked up at the cop and said, "Nice horse you got there sir, did Santa bring it to you?"
"Yes, he sure did," chuckled the cop.
The little girl looked up at the cop and said, .........

"Next year tell Santa the dick goes underneath the horse, not on top."

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Two Aussies, Davo and Johnno, were adrift in a lifeboat.
While rummaging through the boat's provisions, Davo stumbled across an old lamp.
He rubbed the lamp vigorously and a genie came forth.
This genie, however, stated that he could only deliver one wish, not the standard three.
Without giving much thought to the matter, Davo blurted out, "Turn the entire ocean into beer. Make that Victoria Bitter!"
The genie clapped his hands with a deafening crash, and immediately the sea turned into the "hard earned thirst" quencher.
The genie vanished.


Dear Terri:

I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during
our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day
you left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just
the wounded little boy in me talking.

Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my
fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me.
I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost
me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I
don't care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the
first move as long as one of us does.

It's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this
is what my heart says... "There's no one like you, Terri." I look
for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're
not you. They're not even close.

Two weeks ago, I met this girl at the Rainbow Room and brought her
home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate
the depth of my desperation. She was young, Terri, maybe 19, with
one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood
spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Tits
you wouldn't believe and an ass like a tortoise shell. Every man's
dream, right?

But as I sat on the couch being blown by this coed, I thought,
look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so
surface. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better
in bed? Well, in this case, yes. But you see what I'm getting at.
Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than
my moderately attractive Terri? I doubt it. And I'd never really
thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up
a little.

Later, after I'd tossed her about a quart of throat yogurt, I found
myself thinking, why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't
just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger,
but something else. Some niggling feeling of loss. Why did it
feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same
because you weren't there, Terri, to watch. Do you know what I
mean? Nothing feels the same without you, baby. Jesus, Terri,
I'm just going crazy without you.

And everything I do just reminds me of you. Do you remember Carol,
that single mom we met at Mt. Sinai Baptist Church? Well, she drops
by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't
eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant
till later, but that's not the real story.

Anyway, we have a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know
we're fucking in our old bedroom. And this broad's a total monster
in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know like a real woman
does when she's not hung up about God and her career and whether
the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden she spots that tilting
mirror on your grandmother' s old vanity.

So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we
can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad
too. 'Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Terri ever put the
mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years,
and we never used it as a sex aid." (Some of this I thought about
later.) You know what I mean? What happened to our spontaneity? You
get so caught up in the routine of a marriage and you just lose
sight of each other. And then you lose yourself. That's the saddest
part of all for me. But I keep thinking we can get it back. I know
we can, because I only want this stuff with you.

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining
order. I mean, Shannon's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty
good head on her shoulders. She's been a real friend to me during
this painful time. She's given me lots of good counsel about you and
about women in general. (She's pulling for us to get back together,
Terri. She really is.)

So we're drinking in the hot tub and talking about happier
times. Here's this hot girl with the same DNA as you (although,
let's face it, she got an extra helping of the sexy gene) and all
I can do is think of how much she looks like you when you were
18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out
Shannon's really into the whole anal thing and that gets me to
thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and
how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But
do you see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside the steaming
hot Dutch oven of your sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is
think of you? It's true, baby. In your heart you know it. Don't
you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances
and start fresh? I think we can. I keep thinking that I think if
you'd just try it, I wouldn't have to pressure you so much.

Because who needs all that bitterness, Terri? It just tears us
apart. And I can't be apart from you. Because I love you.
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AMAZINGLY SIMPLE HOME REMEDIES
1. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.
2. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives, then you will be afraid to cough.
3. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.
4. Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.
5. For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a three minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.
6. Have a bad headache? Smash your thumb with a hammer and you will forget about the headache.
Sometimes, we just need to remember what the rules of life really are: You only need two tools: WD-40 and Duct Tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40. If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.
Remember: Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
Never pass up an opportunity to go to the bathroom.
If you woke up breathing, congratulations! You get another chance.
And finally, be really nice to your family and friends; you never know when you might need them to empty your bedpan


The software engineering field is staffed primarily by men. In fact,
the ratio of male to female software engineers is about 15 to 1. This
makes it pretty easy for women to find potential mates among their
peers. However, software types have a well-earned reputation for
being well, a little strange. While discussing the prospect of
working in the software industry, one woman commented to another,
"The odds are good, but the goods are odd."

The first graders were attending their first music lesson. The
teacher was trying to begin at the beginning. She drew a musical
staff on the blackboard and asked a little girl to come up and write
a note on it. The little girl went to the blackboard, looked
thoughtful for a minute and wrote, "Dear Aunt Emma, just a short note
to tell you I'm fine."

So I take my wife to this nice Chinese place and we're sitting there,
wolfing down Moo Goo Gui Pan when, suddenly, this nice kid who's been
just sitting there having a nice meal with his parents, jumps to his
feet and pulls out a 9mm. With a scream, he starts pumping round
after round into his fried rice! Standing there, shooting his dinner.
With a sigh, his mother says, "Now, Tommy, If I've told you once,
I've told you a hundred times, stop wasting food!