Meology

Welfare Check

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Mon, 09 May 2011 13:16:00 +0000

A guy walked into the local welfare office to pick up his check.

He marched straight up to the counter and said, "Hi. You know...., I just
HATE drawing welfare. I'd really rather have a job."

The social worker behind the counter said, "Your timing is excellent. We
just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a Chauffeur
and bodyguard for his beautiful daughter. You'll have to drive around in
his brand new Mercedes-Benz CL, and he will supply all of your clothes.

"Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You'll also be expected
to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips. This is rather
awkward to say but you will also have as part of your job assignment to
satisfy her sexual urges as the daughter is in her mid-20's and has a
rather strong sex drive."
The guy, just plain wide-eyed, said, "You're bullshittin' me!"
The social worker said, "Yeah, well ... You started it.."

The Ultimate Dog Tease

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Sat, 07 May 2011 14:16:00 +0000

Love Me Some Chicken!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 18:05:00 +0000

For all chicken lovers.....this is for you!

The Letter To God

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 19:11:00 +0000

There was a man who worked for the Post Office whose job 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 payment. 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, 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 might have been those bastards at the post office. Sincerely, Edna

Growing Up Without A Cell Phone

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Fri, 21 May 2010 17:29:00 +0000

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious tales about how hard things were when they were growing up; what with walking twenty-five miles to school every morning.... Uphill... Barefoot... BOTH ways… yadda, yadda, yadda.

And I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of crap like that on my kids about how hard I had it and how easy they've got it!

But now that I'm over the ripe old age of forty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today.
You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!

And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don't know how good you've got it!

I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have the Internet. If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the damn library and look it up ourselves, in the card catalog!!

There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter - with a pen and paper! Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox, and some had to walk blocks or miles to a post office, and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 10 cents! But I do remember when they were only 5 cents!

Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents beat the daylights out of us. As a matter of fact, the parents of all my friends also had permission to kick our ass! Nowhere was safe!

There were no MP3's or Napsters or iTunes! If you wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the record store and shoplift it yourself! Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio, and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape, an 8 track or cassette, and "eject" it when finished, and then the tape would come undone rendering it useless. Cause, hey, that's how we rolled, Baby! Dig?

We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called, they got a busy signal, that's it! And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your parents, your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, the collection agent... you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister!

There weren't any freakin' cell phones either. If you left the house, you just didn't make a damn call or receive one. You actually had to be out of touch with your "friends". OH MY GOSH !!! Think of the horror... not being in touch with someone 24/7!!! And then there's TEXTING. Yeah, right. Please! You kids have no idea how annoying you are.

We didn't have any fancy PlayStation or Xbox video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari 2600! With games like 'Space Invaders' and 'Asteroids'. Your screen guy was a little square! You actually had to use your imagination!!! And there were no multiple levels or screens, it was just one screen... Forever! And you could never win. The game just kept getting harder and harder and faster and faster until you died! Just like LIFE!

You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were screwed when it came to channel surfing! You had to get off your ass and walk over to the TV to change the channel!!! NO REMOTES!!! Oh, no, what's the world coming to?!?!

There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you hear what I'm saying? We had to wait ALL WEEK for cartoons, you spoiled little rat-bastards!

And we didn't have microwaves. If we wanted to heat something up, we had to use the stove! Imagine that!
And our parents told us to stay outside and play... all day long. Oh, no, no electronics to soothe and comfort. And if you came back inside... you were doing chores!

And car seats - oh, please! Mom threw you in the back seat and you hung on. If you were lucky, you got the "safety arm" across the chest at the last moment if she had to stop suddenly, and if your head hit the dashboard, well that was your fault for calling "shot gun" in the first place! Oh! Let's not forget about all those mothers who smoked in the car with the windows rolled up!!

See! That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled rotten! You guys wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1980 or any time before!

What Confucious Says:

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 19:28:00 +0000

Exactly what is Confucious saying now? Here goes a few good ones:
~Man who scratch ass,
should not bite fingernails.
~Man who eat many prunes,

get good run for money.
~Baseball is wrong:
Man with four balls cannot walk.
~War does not determine who is right,

war determines who is left.
~Wife who put husband in doghouse,

soon find him in Cathouse.
~Man who fight with wife all day,

get no piece at night.
~It take many nails to build crib,

but one screw to fill it.
~Man who drive like hell,

bound to get there.

~The useless skin around a penis

is called "a man".
~Man who live in glass house,

should change clothes in basement.
~Man who fish in other man's well,

often catch crabs.

~A penis has a hole in the end

so men can be open minded.

~It is better to lose a lover

than love a loser.

~Man who mix Viagra and Ex-Lax,

doesn't know if he's coming or going.

~Crowded elevator smell different to midget.

Who Is Jack Shit?

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 18:56:00 +0000

For years, many of us have wondered just exactly who is Jack Shit? We find ourselves at a loss when someone says, "You don't know Jack Shit!" Well, thanks to the brilliant efforts of some very curious folks, you can now respond in an intellectual way. So here it goes and try to keep up....Jack Shit is the only son of Awe Shit, who married O Shit. In turn, Jack Shit married Noe Shit. The couple had 6 children: Holie Shit, Giva Shit, Fulla Shit, Bull Shit, and the twins Deep Shit and Dip Shit. Deep Shit married Dumb Shit, a high school dropout. After 15 years, Jack and Noe Shit got divorced and she married Ted Sherlock and became Noe Shit Sherlock. Meanwhile, Dip Shit married Lotta Shit and had a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Shit. Fulla Shit and Giva Shit married the Happens brothers in a double wedding. The newspaper invited everyone to the Shit-Happens wedding. Bull Shit traveled the world and returned home with an Italian bride. Pisa Shit. So from now on, no one can tell you that you don't know Jack Shit.!!

The Dragon Breath Chili

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 02:37:00 +0000

The Dragon Breath Chili is an article sent to me by a friend. I do not know who the original author of this one is, but kudos to him! If you have to pee, please go ahead and take the potty break before reading this! Otherwise, your pants or panties or boxers or things or underoos may become wet real soon, along with whatever piece of furniture you may be sitting on! This is just too damn funny!! Enjoy....

Dearly Beloved,
I went to Home Depot recently while not being altogether sure that the course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going to poop yourself' Dragon Breath chili. Tasty stuff, although hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. Despite the chilies swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the toilets that the pain hit me.

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh, Oh, poop, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The chilies from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help. I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to dissipate... Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.........BIG mistake!!!!!

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly, things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand explosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my butt is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'.. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-bitch!, did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.

Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'

My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowe's.

Why Older Women Are So Reasonable

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 02:44:00 +0000

After being married for 44 years, I took a long careful look at my wife one day and said, "Honey, 44 years ago, we had a cheap apartment, a cheap car, slept on a sofa bed, and watched a 10-inch black and white tv. But the best part of it all was I got to sleep with a HOT 25 year old woman every night!" Ah, the memories, as I continued on."Now we have a one million dollar home, a $45,000 car, a nice big comfy king size bed, and this huge LCD HDTV with an awesome entertainment system, BUT, I'm sleeping with a 65 year old woman without much action. Seems to me, darling, that you just are not holding up to your end of the bargain here!"
Now, I will be the first to admit, that my wife is a very reasonable woman. In response to my comment, she suggested that I go out and find me a nice hot 25 year old young lady and she would be more than happy to make sure that I once again would have a cheap apartment, drive a cheap car, sleep on a sofa bed, and watch a 10-inch black and white tv.
Aren't older women so awesome!? They really do know how to solve your mid-life crisis, and in a very quick nicely manner too! (~Contributed by one horny hopeful old American man~)

Just Fred! Officer...

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 21:07:00 +0000

A cop stops a man riding a Harley for traveling faster than the posted speed limit. The cops approaches the man and asks the biker his name.
"Fred," he replies.
"Fred what?" the officer asks.
"Just Fred," the man responds.

The officer is in a good mood and thinks he might just give the biker a break. so he begins to write him out a warning instead of a ticket. The officer then presses him for the last name.

The man tells him that he used to have a last name but lost it. The officer thinks that he has a nut case on his hands but plays along with it.

"Well Fred, so tell me, just how did you lose your last name?'

The biker replies, "It's a long story, so stay with me."

"I was born Fred Johnson. I studied hard and got good grades. When I got older, I realized that I wanted to be a doctor. I went through college, medical school, internship, residency, and finally got my degree, so I was Fred Johnson, MD. After a while I got bored being a doctor, so I decided to go back to school."

"Dentistry was my dream! Got all the way through school, got my degree, so then I was Fred Johnson, MD, DDS. Got bored doing dentistry, so I started fooling around with my assistant and she gave me VD, so now I was Fred Johnson, MD, DDS, with VD.Well, the ADA found out about the VD, so they took away my DDS. Then I was Fred Johnson, MD, with VD. Then the AMA found out about the ADA taking away my DDS because of the VD, so they took away my MD leaving me as Fred Johnson with VD. Then the VD took away my Johnson, so now I am just Fred."

The officer, trying not to laugh, tore up the warning ticket, told Fred to slow down and walked away laughing hysterically.

ONLY A MAN WOULD ATTEMPT THIS

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 19:51:00 +0000

Just try reading this without laughing!!!
A Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this story:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized tazer. The effects of the tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing my wife adequate time to retreat to safety......WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right? There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would "shock and disorient your assailant." Longer bursts would do more. I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and...
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION .. WHAT THE ....?????!!!!!
I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position,
with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? The cat was making meowing sounds I
had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.
(Note: If you ever feel compelled to ' mug ' yourself with a tazer, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative?)
A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair.

P.S. My wife, can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!

And if you think education is difficult, try being stupid !!!

Things My Mother Taught Me

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 18:43:00 +0000

1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.
"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."

3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
" Because I said so, that's why."

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."

7. My mother taught me IRONY.
"Keep crying, and I'll give you something to really cry about."

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"

15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to get stuck that way."

19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"

20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."

And my favorite:
25. My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you."

Reporter Turns Ghetto in 3 Seconds!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 15:17:00 +0000

This is just too funny! Hopefully this was being recorded and was not live tv. I more than likely feel the same about his "neck of the woods" as he does mine!!!

11 People On A Rope

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 18:39:00 +0000

Eleven people were being rescued from a flood by a helicopter, ten men and one woman. The pilot and rescuers underestimated the strength of the rope they were using to pull people out of the water. With all eleven people hanging onto the rope, it became apparent that it was too much weight for the rope to handle and so it was decided that at least one person would have to let go. They weren't able to choose that person, after all nobody wanted to let go. Then the woman suddenly started giving a very touching speech. She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope, because, as a woman, she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids or for men in general, and was used to always making sacrifices with little in return. She stated she had been the best wife she could be, allowing her husband nights out with boys, always having a great meal cooked when he gets home from work, providing as much sex and blowjobs as any man could ever want, being the best mother to her kids as possible, and that her work here on earth was done. As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping ...... IDIOTS!

Redneck Power Windows

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 10:57:00 +0000

I have been asked by several readers to include more pictures and videos in my posts. So today, I am posting this quick tutorial video for redneck power windows. With summer upon us this info may be helpful to some and just plain hilarious to others. Enjoy!

Redneck Power Windows - Watch more Funny Videos

Advice From A Retired Husband

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Sun, 10 May 2009 19:59:00 +0000

The following is some advice from the more experienced on life from a very wise retired man. If you are a man, of any age, you should take this advice seriously.
It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them. Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

__________________________________________
This letter was written to a newspaper by a man named Ron:

My name is Ron. Let me relate how I handled the retirement situation with my wife, Carol Anne. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Carol Anne to get a full-time job, along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed. Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club at about the same time she gets home from work.

Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club, so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door. She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner.

I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two, or even three days. That way, she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me, too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Carol Anne. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older. However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile.

After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.

Signed,
Ron

QUICK EDITOR'S NOTE:
Ron died suddenly on January 31 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his a$$, with barely 5 inches of grip showing, and a sledge hammer laying nearby.

His wife Carol Anne was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 10 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Ron, somehow without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.
_________________________________________

Hope you all enjoyed this one! I did!

What Religion Is YOUR Bra?

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 20:08:00 +0000

A man walked into the ladies department of a large department store and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife."

"What type of bra?" asked the clerk.

"Type?" inquires the man, "There's more than one type?"

"Look around," said the sales lady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable. "Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras to choose from."

Relieved, the man asked about the types.

The sales lady replied, "There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which one would you prefer?"

Now totally bewildered, the man asked about the differences between them.

The sales lady responded, "It is all really quite simple... "

The Catholic type supports the masses.

The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen.

The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and up right.

And....

The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills.

(He chose the Baptist!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used to define bra sizes? Well, just in case you haven't yet figured out what the letters stand for, it is about time you became informed!

{A} Almost Boobs.

{B} Barely there.

{C} Can't Complain!

{D} Dang!

{DD} Double dang!

{E} Enormous!

{F} Fake.

{G} Get a Reduction.

{H}Somebody help me!! I've fallen and I can't get up !

Tickle Me Right There Elmo

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 19:17:00 +0000

There is a factory in Northern Minnesota which makes the Tickle Me Elmo toys. The toy laughs when you tickle it under the arms.

Well, Lena is hired at The Tickle Me Elmo factory and she reports for her first day promptly at 8:00 am.

The next day at 8:45 am there is a knock at the Personnel Manager's door. The foreman throws open the door and begins to rant about the new employee.

He complains that she is incredibly slow and the whole line is backing up, putting the entire production line behind schedule.

The Personnel Manager decides he should see this for himself. So the 2 men march down to the factory floor. When they get there the line is so backed up that there are Tickle Me Elmo's all over the factory floor and they're really beginning to pile up.

At the end of the line stands Lena surrounded by mountains of Tickle Me Elmo's. She has a roll of plush red fabric and a huge bag of small marbles.

The 2 men watch in amazement as she cuts a little piece of fabric, wraps it around two marbles and begins to carefully sew the little package between Elmo's legs.

The Personnel Manager bursts into laughter. After several minutes of hysterics he pulls himself together and approaches Lena.

'I'm sorry,' he says to her, barely able to keep a straight face, 'but I think you misunderstood the instructions I gave you yesterday... '

"Your job is to give Elmo two test tickles."

The Redneck Bank

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 16:11:00 +0000

Yep! It's fer real! This one ain't NO joke! But I just had to share this one with my readers! There really is a Redneck Bank! Even though they do not have branches in every state, you can still open an account online. The motto of the bank is "Where Bankin's Funner" and the visa check card is hilarious. Even if you are not interested in opening an account, check out the site. Scroll your mouse over the horse and different sayings will pop up. And don't forget the stuff on the left sidebar, they all make noises too. SO, why would someone even want an account at this bank? Well, first of all, they are FDIC insured and they have a 5.25% APY on Rewards Checking Account. (This means you EARN money!!!!) They also offer a Mega Money Market Saving Account and the You're Approved Checking Account. Just go to the site and click on each one to read all the benfits and requirements. It only takes $1 to open an account, but if you are thinking about applying, I must tell you that from reading some of the forums, people will get rejected if they are in a ChexSystem. This is a system that keeps track of bounced and bad checks. Well y'all, guess that's all fer now. Go on, go check out the bank- ya know ya wanna!

Redneck Bank

The New Doctor

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 18:30:00 +0000

A woman went to the emergency room, where she was seen by a young handsome new doctor. After about 3 minutes in the examination room, the doctor told her she was pregnant. She burst out of the room in tears and ran down the hallway screaming. An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was. After listening to her story, he calmed her down and sat her in another room. The doctor then marched down the hallway to the first doctor's room."What the heck is wrong with you?" he demanded. "This woman is 63 years old, she has two grown children and several grandchildren, and you told her she was pregnant?!!" The new doctor continued to write on his clipboard and without looking up said, "Does she still have the hiccups?"

Daddy's Gonna Eat Your Fingers!

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 20:31:00 +0000

Happy New Year! After taking some time off from my blogs for the holidays, I guess it is high time I start posting again before my loyal readers ditch me! Hope everyone had a great holiday season and without further adue, here is my first post of 2009!

You never know what kids are gonna say or do. The following was written by a father somewhere out there who has a precious little girl now missing something very interesting!

"I was packing for my business trip and my three year old daughter was having a wonderful time playing on the bed. At one point she said 'Daddy, look at this' and stuck out two of her fingers.' Trying to keep her entertained, I reached out and stuck her tiny little fingers in my mouth and said, 'Daddy's gonna eat your fingers!' Pretending to eat them, I went back to packing, looked up again and my daughter was standing on the bed staring at her fingers with a devastated look on her face. I said, 'What's wrong, honey?' She replied, 'Daddy, what happened to my booger?'

Good Apples vs. Bad Apples

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 17:21:00 +0000

The other day my sister brought me some purple grapes that were sooooo juicy and sweet and really really good! She got them from somebody she works with, and wasn't sure what store they came from. So when I went to the store, I done something I never do! I started tasting grapes to see if the taste matched the ones she had. After three grocery stores, I was unsuccessful. But, it did remind me of this little story of how women are like apples and men are like grapes.

Women are like apples on a tree. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but are easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they are amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Now men....Men are like fine wine. They begin as grapes and it's up to women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

Why? Why? Why? And Some How's

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Tue, 21 Oct 2008 15:39:00 +0000

Some of the Why's and How's that come about in our life just make you wonder sometimes. As always, my personal comment on each statement is in the parenthesis at the end. Hope everyone enjoys.

Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are going dead? ( We are in denial and besides, it would take too much effort to change the batteries)
Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough money?(Never understood this this one! They don't have to charge so much either!)
Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet? (Yea, like what am I? A Liar?)
Why doesn't glue stick to the bottle? (May have something to do with air?)
Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection? (Have to spend more of those tax dollars!)
Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard? (Ask Jane. Must be jungle magic)
Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him? (He's a big wuss!)
We brush our "teeth" so why is it called a "toothbrush and not a "teethbrush' ?( No offense to all the hillbillies who actually do have only one tooth to brush)
Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets? ( So you don't see their smashed brains)
Whose bright idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"? (LOL)
If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes? (Uh? so people can keep on evolving?)
Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white? ( It's magic!)
Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale? (Yep! When I get ready to go buy a new one!)
Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized? (Isn't this classified as some sort of phobia or mental issue?)
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? (Guilty I am)
Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end on your first try? (Because plastic bags are adult proof- ask a child to open it for you)
How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures? (maybe an idea for a science project?)
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 freakin' hurt! You stupid idiot?" (Because many times it is your spouse or kids that ram you!)
Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table you always manage to knock something else over? (Murphy's Law- let it fall!)
In winter why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer when we complained about the heat? (Hmm?)
How come you never hear father-in-law jokes? ( Good question! Surely there are some out there?)
And my personal FAVORITE...... 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. (Now see, you didn't need to seek a doctor for that diagnosis!)

The Broken Lawn Mower

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 19:01:00 +0000

Below is the story of how one husband found out the hard way that sometimes, it is just best to go ahead and listen to your wife.

First of all, let's define marriage-Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other person is usually the husband.

When the lawn mower broke and wouldn't run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first: the truck, the car, e-mail, fishing, always something much more important to me than cutting grass.

Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point. When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors.

I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house. I was only gone a few short minutes. When I returned, I handed her a toothbrush.

Very puzzled, she annoyingly asked "And just exactly what is the toothbrush for?"

"Well!" I exclaimed, 'When you finish cutting the grass, you may as well go ahead and sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will eventually walk again, but I will always have a slight limp.

Moral of the story- DON'T piss off the wife!!!

At What Age Should We Start Cussing?

noreply@blogger.com (Sandee Foxten) — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 16:30:00 +0000

A 6 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs playing in their bedroom. 'You know what?' says the 6 year old. 'I think it's about time we started cussing." The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, "When we go downstairs for breakfast, I am gonna say something with the word hell and you say something with the word ass." The 4 year old agrees with much enthusiasm.

When the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, 'Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."

WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts, "You will stay in there until I let you out!"

She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4 year old and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast, young man?"

"Uh, I don't know, he blubbers, "but you can bet your ass it won't be Cheerios!"