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This That And Frog Hair2: Mo White Trash

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Mo White Trash


Sarah and Dick were having dinner with a couple they'd not seen for several years. Each couple tried to re-capture knowledge of the other by recounting their histories.
"And soon after we were married," Sarah began, "we were blessed with a marvelous, chubby creature with cute bow legs and no teeth."
"You had a baby, I presume," said the other husband.
"Nope," Dick broke in, "Sarah's mother came to live with us."



* Hopefully, the price of new cars has peaked. Good thing too. I
mean; most dealers have a showroom and a recovery room as it is.

* For an auto mechanic, frustration is having a pound of grease on
both hands and no upholstery to wipe them on.

* I think a lot of trouble with the new cars is the bucket seats --
not everyone has the same size bucket.

* My neighbor bought the car in the first place because of the
huge rebates offered. The car's pretty smooth, but the rebate
check keeps bouncing.

* I don't see the sense of increasing horsepower and top speed in
the new cars with traffic the way it is. The other week on an
Interstate highway, I had to leave the car twice to make payments
~~~~~~~~~ ~
What happened when the cannibals ate a comedian?
They had a feast of fun!
What happened at the cannibal's wedding party?
They toasted the bride and groom!
When do cannibals cook you?
On Fried-days!
What does a cannibal eat with cheese?
Pickled organs!
What do you call a massive witch doctor ?
Mumbo jumbo !
What did the cannibal mum say to her son who was chasing a missionary?
''Stop playing with your food''!
What do cannibal secretaries do with leftover fingernails ?
They file them!
How can you help a starving cannibal?
Give them a hand !
What was the cannibal called who ate his father's sister?
An aunt-eater!
What happened if you upset a cannibal?
You get into hot water!


There were these two women who were friends and neighbors. One
noticed that the other always seemed to have lots of new goodies;
jewelry, furs, latest fashions, frequent hair salon trips &
manicures, etc. She asked:" how do you get all that great stuff?" "I
do it by charging my husband five dollars every time we have sex",
she said "and you can do the same, it really adds up. But you must
remain firm. Don't let him talk you into accepting less, don't let
him coax you into doing it for no charge." Great, she said, "that
sounds easy, I?ll do it". So, the next time her hubby wanted to have
sex, she said: "From now on, you have to give me five dollars each
time we have sex." She also told him why. "Oh, I see", he said;
"okay". He then went to get the money, but realized that he had
only $4.50. She refused to accept it: "If we have sex you must give
me the full amount, five bucks". He said: "Alright, so we can't
have sex; but can I touch you for the $4.50? We'll just make-out,
okay?" "Okay" she said. As her hubby kissed her, fondled her body,
rubbed against her, etc. she got really hot and bothered. Finally,
she was so turned on, that she said to him: "If it's all the same
to you, I'll lend you fifty cents until tomorrow."
*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*

DEAR ABBY ADMITTED SHE WAS AT A LOSS TO ANSWER....

Dear Abby, A couple of women moved in across the hall from me.
One is a middle-aged gym teacher and the other is a social worker
in her mid twenties. These two women go everywhere together and
I've never seen a man go into or leave their apartment. Do you
think they could be Lebanese?

Dear Abby, What can I do about all the Sex, Nudity, Fowl Language
and Violence On My VCR?

Dear Abby, I have a man I can't trust. He cheats so much, I'm
not even sure the baby I'm carrying is his.

Dear Abby, I am a twenty-three year old liberated woman who has
been on the pill for two years. It's getting expensive and I
think my boyfriend should share half the cost, but I don't know
him well enough to discuss money with him.

Dear Abby, I've suspected that my husband has been fooling around,
and when confronted with the evidence, he denied everything and
said it would never happen again.

Dear Abby, Our son writes that he is taking Judo. Why would a
boy who was raised in a good Christian home turn against his own?

Dear Abby, I joined the Navy to see the world. I've seen it. Now
how do I get out?

Dear Abby, My forty year old son has been paying a psychiatrist
$50.00 an hour every week for two and a half years. He must
be crazy.

Dear Abby, I was married to Bill for three months and I didn't
know he drank until one night he came home sober.

Dear Abby, My mother is mean and short tempered. I think she is
going through mental pause.

Dear Abby, You told some woman whose husband had lost all interest
in sex to send him to a doctor. Well, my husband lost all interest
in sex and he is a doctor. Now what do I do?

The teenage boy seemed placid as I approached his hospital bed to
give him a psychiatric evaluation.
His mother was seated nearby, immersed in her knitting. I walked
over and introduced myself to the boy.
He looked right through me and started screaming: "I can't see!
I can't see!"
I had never witnessed such a dramatic example of hysterical
blindness! "How long has this been going on?" I asked his mother.
Without looking up she replied, "Ever since you stepped in front
of his television."

Hell explained by Chemistry Student.....
You gotta love this guy's explanation of hell.......
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington
chemistry mid-term.
The answer by one student was so "profound" that the professor shared it
with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the
pleasure of enjoying it as well
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic
(absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas
cools when it expands and heats when it is
compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we
need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at
which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul
gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for how
many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that
exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not
a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than
one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one
religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death
rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase
exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the
volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the
temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to
expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls
enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until
all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in
Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.
So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during
my Freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with
you," and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then
number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has
already frozen
over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it
follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore,
extinct...leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine
being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."
THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A".



A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER


Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible; instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though; I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me ou t in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this

But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load.

Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woo dshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood---the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?" You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "Why?" "I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, M att."

That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.

When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked. "Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunnysacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woo dpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy?

Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern. We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, and then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?" "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. "W e brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it.

She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children---sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too.

In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and the ir mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was s ure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, "'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough.

Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in th e woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunnysacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night; he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

Don't be too busy today...

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