Want to Go to Anorexia for Lunch?

Following are what are purported to be actual notes made on hospital charts. If this is apocryphal, I'm not sorry.

The patient refused autopsy.

The patient has no previous history of suicides.

Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital.

She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.

On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.

Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.

The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.

The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.

Discharge status: Alive, but without permission.

Healthy appearing, decrepit 69-year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.

Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.

She is numb from her toes down.

While in ER, she was examined, x-rated and sent home.

The skin was moist and dry.

Occasional, constant, infrequent headaches.

She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce.

Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.

The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.

Skin: somewhat pale but present.

The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.

Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities.

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My favorite word today is knowledge. N., Wikipedia memorized. Def.: The only things worth learning are the things you learn after you know it all. --Harry Truman.

Mr. Frosty Pays Ol' Hoss Big Bucks

I started this here b**g two years and two days ago. I hope those of you who have dropped by from time to time feel properly educated, because of course that was what I had planned. For instance, you now know when to write "So it goes." And you are buddies with Feelgood Haines. And you have contributed ever so mightily to my schemes plans to get rich ("Vivien Sleigh, Clark Goble and the Steamboat to Nowhere" -- a book ("Gone With the Wind and the Rain") stolen by the Chinese).

Speakin' of which (how to get rich), here is Mr. Frosty, which I managed to whip up yesterday morning. I figure this picture will be converted into a Xmas (Season's Greetings?) card, which will be way popularized. I don't know whether to sell this to Whitman's Sampler, Hallmark or Mad Magazine. One way or t'other, I figure it will get me enough dough for my resusitory trip to Outer Space.

(Oh. It snowed about 3 inches, but it was plenty good enough for making snowballs and Mr. Frosties.)

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If you eat something and no one sees you eat it, it has no calories.

Foods that are frozen have no calorites, because calories are units of heat. Examples are ice cream and frozen pies.

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Hoss found another swell link that will be enjoyed by cat lovers, of which I am one or two. You may go here to see what it's all about. Takes only about 8 seconds, so step right up.

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My favorite phrase today is "I must remember this..." N., "a kiss is just a kiss...." Def.: The older a man gets, the farther he had to walk to school as a boy.

Shadows and Clowns

Following a link I got from my buddy Vicki took me to the (old) Boss, who sings while we look at some comedians at work. This is a VERY GOOD piece, about 4 minutes long. So you go here and I will not write so much that you will have to spend all day with me.

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The spinster's prayer: Dear God, if you can't make me young, give all my friends wrinkles.

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What if they gave a war and nobody profited?

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Okay, one more trip for you. To see an Amazing Shadow Trick click that link. Amazed me, might amaze you.

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My favorite phrase today is old age (again). N., crinkled and wrinkled. Def.: When it dawns upon you that you, too, are biodegradable.

My Sentimints, Exactly

New mints come in two different varieties. Ones with Bush on the cover are sold as "embarrassmints." Ones with the whole Bush cabinet on it are sold as "indictimints."

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The employee is making love to the boss's wife.

"Kiss me! Kiss me!" she cries.

"I can't," said he. "I shouldn't even be doing this."

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A black goes to this psychiatrist. The psychiatrist says, "First, drop to your hands and knees and crawl to that wall over there." The black complies, and the doc says, "Kind of nice." Then he says, "Now, crawl to this wall over here." The black complies once again, and the doc says, "That's even better. Finally," says the psychiatrist, "crawl to that lamp over there." The black patient complies, and the psychiatrist says, "That would work, too."

The black stands up and says, "How is this going to help me, doc?"

"Oh, it won't help you," says the psychiatrist. "But I've got a black naugahyde couch coming in and I wanted to see where it looks best."

(I KNOW it's outrageous, but I couldn't resist. All in fun, see.)

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From the "Police Reports" section of our local weekly: "A men's pinky ring, reported lost on Dec. 28, possibly at Shari's Restaurant. A couple reported that they got home after dining out and realized it was missing from the man's pinky."

(This is when newspaper reporters pick up on police jargon.)

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My favorite word today is feathers. N., well I'll be flocked. Def.: This tickles me.

Pepsi Speaks Out for Reincarnation

When the big-wigs transfer their slogans outside the U.S., it sometimes don't work out. No sirree. For instance, Pepsi took its slogan "Come alive with the Pepsi generation" to Taiwan, and saw it instantly translated as "Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the dead." And KFC took "Finger-lickin' good" to China, where it became "Eat your fingers off."

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Sign in Ballindaloch, Scotland: "BEWARE. Free range children. SLOW."

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President Lincoln, unlike me, believed in God. But he had his doubts about invoking God to be on his side in the Great War.

"In great contests, each party claims to act in accordance with the will of God," he said. "Both may be, and one must be, wrong."

You can take that to your friendly jihad meeting.

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A Jewish debtor, called in for an audit by the IRS, asked his accountant for advice on what to wear. "Wear your shabbiest clothing. Let him think you are a pauper."

He asked the same thing of his lawyer, but got opposite advice. "Do not let them intimiate you," he advised. "Wear your most elegant suit and tie."

Confused, the man went to his rabbi, told him of the conflicting advice, and requested some resolution of the dilemma.

"Let me tell you a story," replied the rabbi. "A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. 'Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck.' But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice. 'Wear your most sexy negligee, with a V-neck right down to your navel.'"

The man protested: "What does all this have to do with my problem with the IRS?"

The rabbi answered: "No matter what you wear, you are going to get screwed."

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My favorite word today is uglified. Adj., short version of uglification. Def.: The kind of facial experession it is impossible to achieve except when you're posing for a passport photo.

What You Have to Look Forward To (To What You Have to Look Forward?)

Things are gonna be differmence in 2029, when I will be 99 and be the last person in the United States to get Social Security. For instance, we will find that ozone created by electric cars will be killing millions in the seventh largest country in the world, Mexifornia (formerly known as California). White minorities will still be trying to have English recognized as Mexifornia's second language.

A baby will be conceived naturally, stumping the scientists.

The Supreme Court will be asked to reinstate heterosexual marriage.

France is taken over by Jamaica, appeals for help from the UN. UN Secretary-General Sidney Plotz of Jamaica says, "So?"

Castro dies at age 112. Cuban cigars now are legal in the U.S., but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking.

Postal Service raises price of first-class stamp to $13.49 and reduces deliveries to Wednesday only.

Results of an 85-year, 75.8-billion study: Diet and Exercise are keys to weight loss!

Japanese scientists have created a camera with such a fast shutter speed they now can photograph a woman with her mouth shut.

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Two businessmen are at the urinals. The first one says, "I'm going home for the day. Take care. You have a good one."

And the second one says, "Thanks. I didn't know you were looking."

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My favorite word today is groupie. N., chasing Johnny Mathis? Def.: A big, friendly fish.

Hoss Is Once Again Coining Dough

It has been awhile since I touted you to invest in my latest money-making scheme. I have been stalling because I needed to wait for a new tax year. (My last idea made a lot of money, but Uncle Sam got most of it so I am once again in the "needy" class.)

So now then, loosen up your grip on your money jar because you will want to get a piece of this action, known hereafter as Ol' Hoss's Day-Glowed Ad Works. Which should tip you right off that this is another of my winners. And so's you know what you're gettin' into, I'll give you the company highlights:

We are going to do what Google is doing, only without a computer. Tah-rah-de-boom-te-ay: We will be putting ads on hearses (you can credit this one to Gerald Ford). Can't you just imagine the free TV time we would have got from an ad on Ford's hearse? (Think of it! We could sell a lot of tapes by advertising some tie-in music such as "Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad." Or we coulda advertised our own reincarnation business -- "Lassie Come Home.")

Serious, I think the TV gave more time to that hearse than they did to OJ's slow trip in a Bronco to some gloves that didn't fit. If we coulda got the Marlboro Man on the side of that Ford hearse we'd never have to work again in our lifetimes. (Well, maybe YOU wouldn't have to work again. But since I am not planning to die I might have to figure out something.)

Anyway, somebody dies every day, and if we get our ads on all the hearses that will put us in the Forbes List of 100 Billionaires, maybe as high as No. 10. Shares in my new company will be available soon. (Not all of them, of course. I have to keep some on hand to grant myself some backdated stock options. Us rich people didn't get rich by accident, you know.)

I don't think Ford would be offended by this. He WAS a Republican, you know. And jeeze, he would have loved the tie-in potential: "Ford Signals the Death Knell for the Taurus."

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My favorite word today is dilemma. Def.:

Perched in my shorts on the edge of the bed,
With a shoe in my hand and my teeth in a cup,
I'm looking for clues, so I won't have to ask:
Am I going to bed now or just getting up?

Dance Me the Loose Language

Somebody, I say somebody, sent me alink for a beauteous piece of magic, an amazingly quick change of clothes. I recommend you go see it here.

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For as long as I can remember, I have had amnesia.

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To set the parameters for the class, the professor began by asking some questions.

To a female student: "What is the opposite of joy?"

Student: "That would be sadness."

To another female student: "What is the opposite of depression?"

Student: "That is elation."

To a male student: "And you, young man, what is the opposite of woe?"

Student: "Sir, I believe that would be giddy-up."

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So husband and wife are waiting at the bus stop with their nine children. A blind man joins them after a few minutes. When the bus arrives, they find it overloaded and only the wife and the nine kids are able to fit onto the bus.

The husband and the blind man decide to walk. After awhile, the husband gets irritated by the ticking of the stick of the blind man as he taps it on the sidewalk, and says to him: "Why don't you put a piece of rubber at the end of your stick? That ticking sound is driving me crazy."

The blind man replies: "If you would've put a rubber at the end of YOUR stick, we'd be riding the bus, so shut the hell up."

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My favorite word (again) today is old. N., as your skin turns into leather. Def.: When an attractive girl sits down next to an ancient male and asks, "Is this your good ear?"

The Slapping and Pulling Game Show

A baby penguin walks into a bar, and says to the bartender:

"Have you seen my Dad?"

"What's he look like?"

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The year is 2222. Mike and Maureen have accumulated a bunch of frequent flier miles, and they land on Mars, stuffing Santa on the way there, as you see.They meet a Martian couple and are talking about all sorts of things. Mike asks if Mars has a stock market, if they have laptop computers, how they make money, etc. Finally Maureen brings up the subject of sex. "Just how do you guys do it?" she asks.

"Pretty much the way you do," responds the Martian. Discussion ensues and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another.

Maureen and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips. He's got only a teeny, weenie member -- about half an inch long and just a quarter inch thick. "I don't think this is going to work," says Maureen.

"Why?" he says. "What's the matter?"

"Well," she responds, "it's just not long enough to reach me."

"No problem," he says, and he proceeds to slap his forehead with his palm. With each slap his member grows until it is impressively long. "Well," she says, "that's pretty impressive, but it looks like a long pencil; it's still pretty narrow...."

"No problem," he says, and starts pulling his ears. With each pull, his member grows wider and wider until the entire measurement is extremely exciting to the woman.

"Wow," she exclaims, and they fall into bed and have mad, passionate sex. The next day the couples rejoin their normal partners and go their separate ways.

As they walk along, Mike asks, "Well, was it any good?"

"I hate to say it," Maureen says, "but it was damn good. How about you?"

"It was horrible," Mike says. "All I got was a headache. She kept slapping my forehead and pulling my ears."

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My favorite word today is old. Adj., older than dirt. Def.: When you can't find your glasses without your glasses.

Susie Has a F*#king Good Time

My buddy Susie is this month's winner of a "Perfect Post" for her swear-word-laden offering of Dec. 4, which you will find here. Hold onto your funny bone. "Perfect Post" is the brainchild of Momma K and Lucinda. You can go see them, too.


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And the start of the month would be nothin' without a rabbit. You remember how to do this? You say Rabbit! Rabbit! at the first of each month and you will have good luck all month long. For instance, my computer was only down 5 days during December, which is pretty good considering it could have been down for 6.
I sure hope you're treating your rabbit right, like this one. This stuff is lots better than hay.

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A woman goes to the doctor for her yearly physical. The nurse starts with certain basic items:

Nurse: How much do you weigh?

Woman: 115.

The nurse puts her on the scale and it registers 160.

Nurse: Your height?

Woman: 5-feet-8.

The nurse checks and sees she is only 5-4.

She then checks the woman's blood pressure, and tells the woman it is very high.

"Of course it's high!" she screams. "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!

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My favorite word today is closet. N., boy it's dark in there. Def.: Where you store your clothes, not where you come out of.

How I Was Then

You don't recognize this fella, right? Me neither. But my buddy Scamp tells me it is me, way back when I had more hair (mustache) and no air hoses. The picture is crooked because that's just the way I am.

Anyway, don't have an orgastic. You can get a tie like that anywhere.

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Whozat in a name:

In Bushnell, Fla., a student at a high school named Your-Highness Morgan has a cousin named Gorgeous Morgan. (Then there's the niece, Pigout Morgan.)

From a legal notice of a name change published in the Honolulu Advertiser: Walaulia Alohi anail ke alaamek kawaipe olanihenoheno Kam Paghmani" changed to Walaulia Alohi anail ke alaamek kawaipi olanihenoheno Kam." (Boy howdy, can't you just see how much someone would hate being called Pahg?)

Charged with stealing nearly $300,000 from the Locust Valley Cemetery Association on Long Island, NY: Donald Death Jr. (Dr. Kevorkian's nephew.)

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My favorite word today is elderberry. N., cousin of an elderhostel. Def.: What funeral homes do with old people. Synonym: Box elder.

We Have No Scene Here

At last! I have computer again. Thanks for bearing.

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I am reading this book about weird things that have happened in Florida. And yes, I said "book" -- more than 200 pages of items. For instance:

The train from Tallahassee was notorious for always pulling into Jacksonville late. One day it came in right on time, amazing the regulars. They swarmed the engineer -- only to hear him sadly inform them that this was yesterday's train.

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The Bushnell, Fla., Assembly of God got a sweepstakes notice from American Family Publishers announcing tht God, of Bushnell, was a finalist for a one-million-dollar prize.

"God, we've been searching for you," it said. "What an incredible fortune there would be for God! Could you imagine the looks you would get from your neighbors. Don't just sit there, God."

(Yeah, for Christ's sake, God, get off the dime. Order them mags!)

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A woman whose body was found in a northwestern Florida county may have been a victim of a hit-and-run accident more than 10 miles away. Sheriff's spokesman Jim Leljedal said, "We've got a scene on Highway 27 where there is not a victim, then we have a victim here where's there no scene."

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My favorite word today is experience. N., been there, done that. Def.: What teaches you to recognize a mistake when you've made it again.

Whersh the Party, Peeps?

I have not been visiting lately because my computer is broke and I can't get it fixed because it is Happy Yuletide and nobody wants to work except me but of course I don't know how to fix anything so this is not going to help, so it is going to be awhile but I will be there eventually and how do you like this for a run-on? (I am using Scamp's puter; it is temporary. She is permanent, though.)

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I said awhile back I wouldn't post no more recipe posts. Of course I lied.

Xmas Cookies

1 C water
1 tsp baking soda
1 C sugar
1 tsp salt
1 C brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
1 C nuts
2 C dried fruit
1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila

Sample the Jose Cuervo to check its quality.

Take a large bowl and check the Cuervo again to be sure it is of the highest quality. Pour one level cup and drink for this part of the recipe

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar. Beat some more.

At this point it's best to make sure the Cuervo is still okay. Try another cup to make sure it is not going bad.

Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruitcakes.

Pick the friggin' fruit off the floor. Mix on the turn-er. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a drewsciver.

Sample the Cuervo to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt or something. Check the Jose Cuervo. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, somefink, whatever you can find.

Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees. Don't forget to bean off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the window, finish the Cose Juervo and make sure to put the stove in the dishwasher.

Cherry Mistmas.

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My favorite word today is vacuum. N., good word for a spelling bee. Def.: Nothing, shut up in a box.

Santa Got Run Over by a Reindeer

For as long as I can remember, I've had amnesia.

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CHRISTMAS CAROLS FOR THE DISTURBED:

Schizophrenia: Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personality Disorder: We Three Kings Disoriented Are

Dementia: I Think 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 and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and...

Paranoid: Santa Claus Is Coming to Town to Get Me

Borderline Personality Disorder: Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire

Personality Disorder: You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why

Attention Deficit Disorder: Silent Night, Holy ooooh Look at the Froggy...Can I Have a Chocolate?...Why Is France So Far Away?

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells.....

(For this little juicy bit, I owe Lois Lane.)

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My favorite word today is ignorance. N., how come you ain't winnin' no spellin' bees? Def.: If this is bliss, why aren't more people happy?

All About the Children From A.S.S.O.U.T.

Well, I guess nothing could be worse than this: Some punk college kid has come out in favor of showing your butt crack. I am having a hard time with this, for you know how much I am NOT in favor of asscrack. Woe is me.

Here's what I know about it: A University of Michigan sophomore, Tyler Perriman, 20, has created an organization known as American Students Safeguarding Our Underwear Technique (A.S.S.O.U.T.). This, he says, is an organization "dedicated to preserving the rights of people to wear their pants low." He adds, "We're here, we're sheer, and we like to show our rear."

Of course I can't let this go. As you know, I am President of the National Organization of Citizens Ready for Ass of the Concealed Kind (N.O.C.R.A.C.K.). I think we have way more members (9) than Perriman does (1). I am having business cards printed up. Let me know if you don't get yours, for N.O.C.R.A.C.K. simply has to defeat A.S.S.O.U.T. It's the American Way.

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Everybody -- I say everybody -- loves a good buttcrack joke, though. So go see this one.

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A guy took his blonde girlfriend to her first football game. They had great seats right behind their team's bench. After the game, he asked her how she liked the experience.

"Oh, I really liked it," she replied, "especially the tight pants and all the big muscles. But I just couldn't understand why they were killing each other over 25 cents."

Dumbfounded, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, they flipped a coin, one team got it and then for the rest of the game all they kept screaming was 'Get the quarterback! Get the quarterback!' I'm like....Helloooo? It's only 25 cents!"

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My favorite word today is adult. N., a former teenager. Def.: A person that has stopped growing at both ends but not in the middle.

We Were So Poor.....

So, a polar bear goes into a bar. He says, "Give me a gin..........and tonic."

Bartender says, "Sure; but why the long pause?"

Bear: "I don't know. My father had them too."

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My Sylvia says she was so poor, her rainbows came in black and white.

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Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

"In honor of this Holy Season," said St. Pete, "you must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into Heaven."

The first guy fumbles through his pockets and pulls out a lighter. He flicked it on. "This represents a candle," he says.

St. Pete says, "You may pass through the Pearly Gates."

The second guy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. He shook them and said, "They're bells."

St. Pete says, "You may pass through the Pearly Gates."

The third guy searches desperately, and finally pulls out a pair of women's panties. St. Peter looks at the man with a raised eyebrow, and says, "And just what do those symbolize?"

The man replies: "They're Carol's."

So Merry Christmas.

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My favorite word today is ptarmigan. N., p as in t. Def.: A pkind of pbird.

Blue Ball Comes After Intercourse

If I had a bigger chest, you could see that this says.....oh, never mind. I think you can see what it says. What it says is I got this from my B**g Sister, Nat, also known as Tan Lucy Pez. See, she gifted me this because I am such a swell guy, and I model clothes so spiffily. (Or maybe she was making fun of my lack of prostate; I guess you'll have to guess, but all in all there is no question that I am spiffily.)

Intercourse, Blue Ball and Paradise are little towns out in the Pennsylvania country, near the Amish people. I don't know how close they are to Hop Bottom.

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The family is sitting at the dinner table.

The son asks the father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobies are there?"

The father, though surprised, answers. "Well, son, there are three kinds of breats. In her twenties, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her thirties and forties, they are like pears, still nice, but hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions."

"Onions?" inquires Junior.

"Yes. You see them, and they make you cry."

This infuriates both mother and daughter. So daughter asks, "Mom, how many types of 'johnsons' are there?"

The mother responds, "Well, dear, a man goes through three phases. In his twenties his johnson is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties it is like a birch tree, flexible but reliable. After his fifties it is like a Christmas tree."

"Like a Christmas tree?" inquires Daughter.

"Yes, dear, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only."

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I'm so old my high school swim team did laps in the primoridal pool.

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My favorite word today is fiber. N., you know, kinda like a fiberous begonia. Def.: What old people find in their carpet, and young people find in their vitamins.

Has Xmas Passed By Yet?

If you want an "art" treat, go see this guy. He is pretty crafty.

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Question: What did all the other reindeer say to Rudolph when he landed on top of Santa's head?

Answer: "You look like a deer caught in the head lice."

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You will be relieved to know: Old age does not last forever.

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Here's a partial re-run of a buddy's Christmas letter:

"'06 was busy, busy, busy! The first 4 mos. I worked two half-days at the slaughterhouse. Sometimes they let me answer the telephone.

"The next four mos. I traveled the West Coast as a side-show freak in Bob's Carnival. I was billed as "Geno, the World's Largest Midget.

"Finished the year peddling gift packs of spray-on meat...."

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Her husband, being unhappy with her mood swings, bought her a mood ring the other day so he could be able to monitor her moods.

They have discovered that when she is in a good mood, the ring turns green. When she is in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his forehead.

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My favorite word today is net. N., practicing the lob shot. Def.: Holes tied together with string.

Hiya, Cookie!

My buddy Susiewants us all to post a cookie recipe and do a whole lot of other things today in honor of Wednesday the 13th. Or for some reason. (I guess it's called "Blog Cookie Exchange." I am not sending you any, so don't get excited. Make your own.)

Anyway, this struck a bell with me for I have just landed on the world classiest Chocolate Pepper Cookies ever you heard of (the pepper is the secret ingredient; don't tell nobody). And since I am the chief cook and bottle washer here in Oregon for me and the Scamp, here's my (somebody else's, really) cookie:

1 1/2 Cups unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 3/4 Cups granulated sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3 Cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 1/2 Cups unsweetened cocoa, plus additional for rolling
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 teaspoon ground black pepper
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
4-6 ounces semisweet chocolate (for decoration)

(In case you doubted I can cook, here I am worrying some garlic to death.)

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs and beat until mixture is fluffy. Sift together the flour, 1 1/2 cups cocoa, salt, black pepper, cayenne and cinnamon. Add to the butter mixture and beat until well mixed; if dough seems too soft, add up to 1/4 C up more flour. Shape into a flattened disk, wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least one hour.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Dust a cutting board with cocoa and roll out the dough until it is 1/8 inch thick (it's best to roll out 1/3 of the dough at a time, leaving the remainder in the refrigerator until it's time to roll out). Cut dough into desired shape with a cookie cutter and set cookies 1-2 inches apart on baking sheets. Leftover dough can be rolled and cut out once more.

Bake for 8-10 minutes, or just until crisp. Cool on racks.

Melt the semi-sweet chocolate and drizzle randomly over the cooled cookies. You can do this by dipping a fork in the chocolate and then twirling it over the cookies. Allow the chocolate to set before serving.

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Now then, I am never going to do this again. So I hope you liked the cooking show cartoon in case you got pretty bored, like I did.....

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My favorite word today is ant. N., much busier than a grasshopper. Def.: A small insect that, though always at work, still finds time to go to picnics.

More Thefts

Here's something else I stole -- A few paragraphs from our local weekly:

"Nov. 4, 7:04 p.m. -- A library patron reported that she was browsing the book stacks on Oct. 29 when a man took a book off the shelf, sat down on the floor 4-5 feet away, and started masturbating.

"The man asked her if she needed him to move and she said no, then left.

"She thought he then followed her out of the library and continued following after she drove away in her car. She thought he got stuck in traffic."

(Yeah, that stuff can really be sticky.)

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An old man, Mr. Wallace, was living his last days in the Old Folks Bide-a-Wee Rest Home. One day he appeared to be very sad and depressed. Nurse Tracy asked if there was anything wrong.

"Yes, Nurse Tracy," said Mr. Wallace. "My Private Part died today."

"Oh," she said, unenthusiastically.

The next day, Nurse Tracy sees Mr. Wallace going down the hall with his Private Part hanging out of his pajamas.

"You shouldn't be going around like that, Mr. Wallace," she said.

"But," says Mr. Wallace, "I told you yesterday my Private Part had died. Today's the viewing."

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Life is like a dog sled team: If you ain't the lead dog, the scenery never changes. --Lewis Grizzard.

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My favorite word today is life. N., live long and live medium-well. Def.: A bitch that has puppies.

Lifted From the Locals

The Oregonian, our local daily, has a column called The Edge that is about offbeat stuff. I steal from it, because it steals from everybody else:

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"A hothpital retheptionitht in Waterford, NY, ith threatening to thue a hothpital that fired her becauth of her tongue thtud and other body pierthingth, thaying the pierthingth are part of her religion ath a member of the Thurth of Body Modificathion, whith claimth to have thapterth in Kentucky and Virginia. Further reportth, ath developmentth warrant."

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And here are some of the results of the Ignoble Awards, for achievements that "cannot and should not be reproduced":

Medicine: A US and Israeli team's discovery that hiccups could be cured with a finger up the rectum.

Ornithology: Two researchers from UC-Davis and UCLA for explaining why woodpeckers do not get headaches.

Acoustics: Three researchers from Chicago's Northwestern University for an experiment aimed at dfiscovering why the sound of fingernails scraping on a blackboard is so irritating.

Literature: Daniel Oppenheimer of Princeton University for his report, "Consquences of Erudite Vernacular Utilized Irrespective of Necessity: Problems With Using Long Words Needlessly."

And my favorite (you had to see this coming):

Nutrition: Two researchers from Kuwait for showing that dung beetles are finicky eaters.

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My favorite word today is youth. N., okay junior, this is a bird and this is a bee. Def.: A nice stage of life that is wasted on young people.

Finishing the Stroll

Ya'all know what a big fan of "mooning" and "buttcrack" that I am. For instance....

And furthermore, here comes Santa....

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My last post started a Stroll Down Memory Lane. This one will finish the walk....


I remember when any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries, and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents. When they threatened to keep kids back a grade if they failed -- and they did! When about the worst thing you could do at school was smoke in the bathroom, flunk a test, or chew gum. And the prom was in the gym and we danced to an orchestra.

When people went steady and girls wore a class ring with an inch of wrapped dental floss or yarn coated with pastel frost nail polish so it would fit her finger.

And no one ever asked where the car keys were because they were always in the car, in the ignition, and the doors were never locked. And neither were the doors at home.

Remember lying on your back on the grass with your friends and saying things like "That cloud looks like a...." And playing baseball with no adults around to screw things up.

Remember when things from the store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had yet tried to poison a perfect stranger. And when being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Basically, we were in fear for our lives, but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat. But we all survived because their love was greater than the threat.

Send this to someone who still remembers Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Laurel and Hardy, The Lone Ranger, The Shadow, Roy and Dale, and Trigger and Buttermilk. Somebody old, like me....

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My favorite phrase today is old age. N., Let's hear it for Methuselah. Def.: When your back goes out more often than you do.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

You know how I am about buttcrack. Well lookie here: A great swim suit rendition that nicely covers everything. Sort of. Kinda.

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Here are some things from childhood that you might not never heard of. This is way back before SEGA and Pac Man and funny wars in Iraq....

I'm thinking "Hide and Go Seek" at dusk. Sitting on the porch listening to Lum 'n' Abner or Fred Allen. Kick the can. Going home for lunch, penny candy from the store, hopscotch, skates with keys, Jacks, Mother May I?

Old Maid and Crazy Eights, wax lips and mustaches, saddle shoes and Coke bottles with the names of cities on the bottom, running through the sprinkler, bobby pins, Mickey Mouse Club, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Fran and Ollie -- all in black and white.

Around the corner was pretty far and going downtown seemed like going somewhere. Climbing trees and making forts. Lemonade stands, Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, pillow fights, ribbon candy, tinsel on the Christmas tree, Jackie Gleason, walking to the movies, being tickled to death, laughing so hard your stomach hurt, dodge ball, being tired from playing.

Don't step on a crack: You'll break your mother's back. Paper chains at Christmas, silhouettes of Lincoln and Washington, the March of Dimes, the smell of paste in school.

There were two types of sneakers for boys and girls: Keds and PF Flyer, and the only time you wore them was at school for "gym."

When nearly everyone's Mom was home when the kids got home from school. When nobody owned a purebred dog. When a quarter was a decent allowance. When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny.

When all your male teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done, and wore high heels.

When you got your windshield cleaned, oil checked and gas pumped, without asking, all for free, all the time. And you didn't pay for air. And you got trading stamps. When laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box.

(To be continued....)

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My favorite word today is aging. Adj., I was a little tad, once. Def.: The realization that you are not young enough to know everything.

We Are Not Yet Through With Christmas

This here is a pitcher some guy took up at the North Pole or some place where Santa hangs out. As he says, you ain't gonna see nothin' like this much -- bunch of suns and moons hanging low like buttcrack. Anyways, if you want to steal this for a desktop, feel free. Ain't mine.

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Alternative ending to "'Twas the Night Before Christmas", from the folks at the Rock-a-Way Rest Home (the picture below is courtesy of Hale McKay):

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 8-p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds,
While nurses distribued nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-a-Way Rest,
'fore long you'll be with us. We wish you the best.

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In the Washington Post, readers were asked to list a movie and give an alternative title. One entry:

"The Alamo": "Immigration Reform: The Early Years".

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My favorite phrase today is changing times. N., when you and I were young, Maggie. Def.: Remembering when the air was clean and sex was dirty. --George Burns.

So, Getting Along With Ol' Nick

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

And Then Kipling Said......

My buddy Feelgood Haines jumped me bright and early today.

"Hoss," he says in that whiny pinched voice of his. "Folks tell me you been callin' me a hillbilly."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," I said disarmingly. "Everybody knows you West Virginia people is some kinda folks."

"I will have you know that 'hillbilly' is now politically UN-correct," says Feelgood. "We-uns is now officially 'Ozark-Americans.'"

"Huh," says I. (I am always ready with the riposte.)

"Yeah," Feelgood says. "So now excuse me; I got some possums to fry."

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I descended from a very long line my mother once foolishly listened to. --Phyllis Diller.

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The head doctor (conjures up visions, don't it?) is doing the morning rounds with his students. He pauses before a patient and says, "This man limps because his fibula and tibia are badly arched. Bernie, what would you do in a case like this?"

Bernie: "Yeah, well, um...Yes, I think I'd limp too."

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My favorite phrase today is middle age. N., when you and I were young, Maggie. Def.: When you still believe you'll feel better in the morning.

Happy Rabbit Day to You

This rabbit also is in training to learn how to open the refrigerator and to beg at the table. Naturally, I am the trainer.

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Okay, you know the drill: You say Rabbit! Rabbit! at the first of the month and you will have good luck all month long. I have been doing this for about six months now and have not won the lottery yet. But I am way ahead of the game, for neither have I bought a ticket. (This may not be luck. It may just be another example of how clever I am.)

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Grandma Fritchett went to a school function and won a new radio as a door prize. She then penned the following letter to the principal:

God bless you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent senior citizens luncheon. I am 84 years old and live at the Safety Harbor Assisted Living Home for the Aged. All of my family has passed away. I am all alone now and it's nice to know that someone is thinking of me. God bless you for your kindness to an old, forgotten lady. My roommate is 95 and has always had her own radio. Before I received one, she would never let me listen to hers, even when she was napping. The other day her radio fell off the nightstand and broke into a lot of pieces. It was awful and she was in tears. She asked if she could listen to mine, and I told her to kiss my ass. Thanks for that opportunity.

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My favorite phrase today is middle age. N., if you remember Ken Maynard. Def.: When a lady's hair turns from gray to black.

And to All, Good Nighty!

Here's a swell Christmas poem I got from LadyBug:

'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-a-Way Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punch bowl 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 bedpans, 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 Jello, 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 Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wanderer 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,
Saying "Ho ho ho, ain't it bad to be poor?"
But he took all our presents, and went into the night,
"The Salvation Army just knew you weren't tight."

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My favorite phrase today is old age. N., which creeps me out. Def.: When you don't really care what the neighbors think.

Eeny, Meeny, and Harry

This cop sees the low-rider pull out of the Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot. A bucket of chicken is on the roof of the car.

The cop sees his chance to be a Good Samaritan. So he hauls the guy over, grabs the bucket of chicken off the top of the car and says, in a happy tone of voice: "Want some chicken?"

Driver says: "No, thanks. I just bought some."

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How to Clean the House (I got this from ______. Fill in your name here.):

Open a new file in your PC.
Name it "Housework."
Send it to the Recycle Bin.
Empty the Recyle Bin.
Your PC will ask you: "Are you sure you want to delete 'Housework' permanently?"
Calmly answer: "Yes," pressing the mouse button firmly.

Feel better?

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Cleaning out the aviary at a run-down zoo, the keeper finds two finches have dropped dead from old age. So he puts them in a sack. In the monkey cage he discovers two of the oldest monkeys also have kicked the bucket. Waste not, want not, so he puts them in the sack with the finches and pitches them into the lion's cage at feeding time.

"Holy cow!" the lion roars. "Not finch and chimps again!"

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My favorite phrase today is dual careers. N., so who's taking care of the kids today? Def.: Reference to a fencing teacher.

Just Waiting Here

Waiting to see the doctor has become something of a science with me. I have had to see several medicos recently, and most of them are quite prompt in seeing that I do not have to wait in the waiting room. Instead, I am taken from the outer sanctum, where there are magazines, to the inner sanctum, which has no magazines. "Doctor will be right with you," I am told. (Why they don't say "the" doctor is beyond me. Maybe it is advanced baby talk.)

But, I say to myself, this is progress. I am not in the outer room waiting, but in the inner room waiting. "This," I say, "is progress, for the doctor will see me before he/she sees anyone in the outer room, because he/she has to empty Rooms A, B, C, D, E and F first. That means I am practically next in line."

In turns out I am next in line, but Rooms D, E, F, A and B seem to get emptied before the doc gets to room C, where I am, magazineless. There are things to read, though: You can while away time reading the diplomas on the wall. These are good for at least 2 minutes and 12 seconds, unless you are visiting an opthalmologist, where the nurse will dilate your eyes instantly so you can't see them.

You also get to wait without your clothes. The nurse says take it off, take it all off, and so you do. Then you spend time trying to get comfortable on the available seating, which usually is marble or stainless steel, with built-in refrigeration coils.

"Doctor" eventually comes in, says "How we doing?" I think, "We"? I answer: "I'm okay, but you seem a little peaked today. Lemme see your tongue."

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My favorite phrase today is fast food. N., make haste, Pablo. Def.: What you eat during Lent.

One Hunnert Thousand and Then Some

I started this here b**g in January, 2005, and started counting visitors in April of that year. So I was gonna make a big whoop-de-do when I got to 100,000. But it 's too late.

I just checked, and I have 100,100 hits. And about 40 comments. Maybe 50, or so.

But for the life of me I can't figure out what's a big whoop-de-do, and why it should matter. So I asked my sometime buddy, Feelgood Haines.

Feelgood: "It's something all right, but prolly not so mucking fuch."

Ol' Hoss: "What you mean, 'not so mucking fuch'? 100,000 people is quite a many."

Feelgood: "You know how many people they is in China? Or India? Hunnert thousand is small change to them dudes. They lose a million folks in a earthquake or a flood and think nuthin' of it. 'So it goes,' is what they say."

Ol' Hoss: "So it goes?"

Feelgood: "Yeah. I suppose you never heard that before. It's pretty new."

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"I get to go to lots of overseas places, like Canada." --Britney Spears.

"The road to truth is long, and lined the entire way with annoying bastards." --Jablokov.

Broccoli would be better if it were made of meat.

"If you take out the killings, Washington actually has a very low crime rate." --Marion Barry, mayor of Washington, D.C.

The more people I meet, the more I like my dog.

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My favorite word today is live-in. N., getting divorced in Connecticut. Def.: A housedress.

Why We're Going to Love Women

We all know it is a sin for an Islamic male to see any woman, other than his wife, naked, and that he must commit suicide if he does. So, this Sunday at 4 p.m. Eastern time, all American women are asked to walk out of their house completely naked to help weed out any neighborhood terrorists. Circling your block for one hour is recommended for this anti-terrorist effort.

All men are to position themselves in lawn chairs in front of their house to prove they are not terrorists, and to demonsterate that they think it's okay to see nude women other than their wife, and to show support for all American women.

And since the Koran also does not approve of alcohol, a cold six-pack at your side is further proof of your anti-terrorist sentiment. The American Government appreciates your efforts to root out terrorists and applauds your participation in this anti-terrorist activity.

God bless America and GOD BLESS AMERICAN WOMEN!!

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Billy Bob and Luther were talking one afternoon (according to my buddy Kenju), when Billy Bob tells Luther, "Ya know, I reckon I'm 'bout ready for a vacation. Only this year I'm gonna do it a little different. The last few years I took your advice about where to go.

"Three years ago you said to go to Hawaii. I went to Hawaii and Earlene got pregnant.

"Two years ago, you told me to go to the Bahamas, and Earlene got pregnant again.

"And last year you suggested Tahiti, and dang if Earlene didn't get pregnant again."

Luther: "So what you gonna do this year that's different?"

Billy Bob: "This year I'm takin' Earlene with me."

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My favorite word today is trouble. N., right here in River City. Def.: A Baptist, when he's not held under long enough.

Sundry Assorted

Who are some of the relatives of werewolves?

Ans.: Whatwolves and Whenwolves.

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Man's ultimate embarrassment: Running into a wall with an erection and breaking his nose.

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Student to Bus Agent: "I want to buy a ticket for Norwald."

Bus Agent: "Okay, let's see....uh...Norwald? I don't see a Norwald on here. Can you tell me where it is?"

Student: "That's Norwald right over there. He's my roommate."

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The blonde is playing Trivial Pursuit and she draws and card from "Science and Nature." The questioner reads it: "If you're in a vacuum and somebody calls your name, can you hear it?"

Blonde: "Ummmm....Is it on, or off?"

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Cop to street vendor: "You can't sell that stuff without a license."

Vendor: "I know I wasn't selling any, but until now I didn't know the reason."

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My favorite word today is editor. N., with rolled-up sleeves. Def.: A person hired by a newspaper to separate the wheat from the chaff and see to it that the chaff is printed. --Elbert Hubbard.

My Bonny Lies Over the Turkey

You would sing this turkey to the tune of "My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean," also known as "Dubya Rows His Boat Up the Creek."

The turkey shot out of the oven
And rocketed into the air.
It knocked every plate off the table,
And partly demolished a chair.

It ricocheted into a corner
And burst with a deafening boom,
Then splattered all over the kitchen,
Completely obscuring the room.

It stuck to the walls and the windows.
It totally coated the floor.
There was turkey attached to the ceiling,
Where there'd never been turkey before.

It blanketed every appliance;
It smeared every saucer and bowl.
There wasn't a way I could stop it,
That turkey was out of control.

I scraped and I scrubbed with displeasure,
And thought with chagrin as I mopped,
That's I'd never again stuff a turkey
With popcorn that hadn't been popped.

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My favorite word today is dyspepsia. N., what happens when you move. Def.: Withdrawal from Pepsi.

Games People Play

Here are some swell games you can play when you get old like me:

1. Sag, you're it

2. Pin the toupee on the bald guy

3. 20 Questions, shouted into your good ear

4. Kick the bucket.

5. Red Rover, Red Rover, the doc says bend over

6. Doctor Goose

7. Simon Says something incoherent

8. Hide and go pee

9. Spin the bottle of Mylanta

10. Musical recliners

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More of You Know You're Getting Old When....

1. You have a party and the neighbors don't realize it.

2. You quit trying to hold your stomach in, no matter who walks into the room.

3. You sing along with elevator music.

4. Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't remember them, either.

5. Your supply of brain cells is down to a manageable size.

6. You stoop to tie your shoelaces, then ask yourself, "What else can I do while I'm down here?"

7. You can't remember where you got this list.

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My favorite word today is modem. N., the kneebone connected to the thigh bone. Def.: What you did to the weeds in your back yard.

See What Happens?

A woman was walking down the street when she was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked her for a couple of dollars for dinner.

The woman took out her billfold, extracted ten dollars, and asked, "If I give you this money, will you buy some wine with it instead of dinner?"

"No, I had to stop drinking years ago," said the homeless woman.

"Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?" the woman asked.

"No, I don't waste my time shopping," the homeless woman said. "I need to spend all my time tryng to stay alive."

"Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?" the woman asked.

"Are you nuts?" replied the homeless woman. "I haven't had my hair done in 20 years!"

"Well," said the woman. "I'm not going to give you the money. Instead I am going to take you out for dinner with my husband and me."

The homeless woman is astounded. "Won't your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting."

The woman replied: "That's okay. It's important to him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments and wine."

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Murphy's Other Laws:

He who laughs last, thinks slowest.

A day without sunshine is, like, night.

Just remember: If the world didn't suck we'd all fall off.

It is said that if you line up all the cars in the world end-to-end, some asshole will try to pass.

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My favorite word today is flashlight. N., one if by sea? Or was it two? Def.: A case for holding dead batteries.

Well I'll Be Durned

I would like you to believe that I sent you this card. But that would be wrong. On accounta it was sent to me by Janie Known as Poopie, who lives over there in West Tennessee. Anyway, it's pretty funny.

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In Oregon, we count the tines on one side of a deer's head and that's the rating it gets. Like, a deer with three tines is a 3-point; one with four tines is a 4-point, and you get the picture. But in some states they count all the tines, so in these examples a 3-point becomes a 6-point, and a 4-point becomes an 8-point. Actually, the states where they count all the tines have the advantage, because sometimes a deer will have 3 tines on one side and 4 on the other. This raises all kinds of hell when a guy is trying to figure out whether he got a 3-point or a 4-point. (There is no such thing as a 3 1/2 point.) (It also raises hell with the vegetarians, who had just as soon this guy had not shot Bambi.)

Now then, what makes this interesting is, when Scamp and I were driving to our new house during the move, a _-point jumped in front of my car and I darn near hit it. I know it wasn't a forked horn (which is a 2-point) because it had more tines than that. But was it a 3-, 4- or 5-point (6-, 8- or 10-)? (Scamp has never hunted, so all she knew was that it had horns -- sort of like I used to have.)

Anyway, the move went just swell, except Scamp's knuckles are bloody and we still have 108 boxes to empty. The movers needed overtime: They started at 8 a.m. and finished at 11:30 p.m. I blame it on the 35 pots of plants Scamp had them move.

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My favorite word today is elderhostel. N., grumpy old man. Def.: Antonym for a friendly senior citizen.

How to Cook a Kangaroo

Here I promised you a camel recipe, and came up instead with

Roast Kangaroo

Select and clean one medium kangaroo

Rub inside with 14 cloves of garlic

Stuff with one roast lamb, which has been stuffed with four chickens, which have been stuffed with one fish each, which are stuffed with hard-boiled eggs.

Make a big hole in the sand, fill bottom with red hot rocks. Cover with eucalyptus fronds. Place kangaroo in hole, cover with more fronds and cover with sand. Don't ever dig it up. Kangaroo does not taste like chicken.

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Old is when....

Your friends compliment you on your alligator shoes -- and you're barefoot.

"Getting a little action" means you don't need to take the fiber today.

"Getting lucky" is when you find your car in the parking lot.

An "all-nighter" means not getting up to pee.

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My favorite word today is nostalgia. N., in days of yore. Def.: Not what it used to be.

No Time! No Time!

We are moving today, to Wilsonville, Oregon. We do not have time to be funny. (But, geez, these movers are s....l....o....w.......)

I will be back. Friday, maybe. I got a good recipe for you: It's how to roast a camel.

What You Learn From Guido Sarducci

Three Italian nuns die and go to heaven. At the Pearly Gates they are met by St. Peter. He says, "Sisters, you have led such exemplary lives that the Lord is granting you six months to go back to earth and be anyone you want to be."

The first nun says, "I want to be Sophia Loren." And, poof! she is gone.

The second nun says, "I want to be Madonna." And, poof! she is gone.

The third says, "I want to be Sara Pipalini."

St. Peter is perplexed. "Sara who?" he asks.

"Sara Pipalini," replies the nun.

St. Peter shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but that name doesn't ring a bell."

The nun then takes a newspaper out of her habit and hands it to St. Peter. He reads the paper and hands it back, chuckling: "No, sister. The paper says it was the 'Sahara Pipeline' that was laid by 1,400 men in six months."

(If you laughed, you are going straight to hell.)

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A male whale and a female whale are swimming off the coast of Japan when they notice a whaling ship. The male says, "Let's both swim under the ship and blow out of our air holes at the same time. It should cause the ship to turn over and sink."

They tried it and, sure enough, the boat turned over and sank. But the crewmen started swimming toward shore, which angers the male whale.

"Let's swim after them and gobble them up," he tells the female whale. But he notices she is not following.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"Look," she says, "I went along with the blow job but I absolutely refuse to swallow the seamen."

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My favorite phrase today is pig ribs. N., with honeysuckle sauce. Def.: Same as pork ribs, only with hair.

The Senator Picks Her Place

Walking down the street one day, a U.S. senator is hit by a truck and dies. Her soul arrives in heaven and she is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

"Welcome to heaven," says St. Pete. "But before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."

"I don't see that as a problem," says the senator. "Just let me in."

"Well, I'd like to," says Pete. But I have orders from higher up. I think what we're going to do is have you spend one day in hell and one day in heaven. Then you can choose where you wish to spend eternity."

With that, Pete escorts her to the elevator and down goes the senator, down, down, down to hell. The doors open and she finds herself in the middle of a beautiful golf course. In the distance is the clubhouse and standing in front of it are all her friends and other politicians who had worked with her.

Everyone is happy. They run to greet her, shake her hand and reminisce about the good old days. They play a friendly game of golf, then go to dinner where they have lobster, caviar and champagne.

Also present is the Devil, who is really a very friendly guy who has a good time telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before she realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives her a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises. There she sees St. Peter, who says, "Now it's time to visit heaven."

So 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of souls who move from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They walk the streets of gold, talk with Jesus and generally have a pretty good time. And then the 24 hours is gone, and St. Peter returns.

"Well," he says, "you have spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity."

The senator reflects for a moment and then answers, "Well, I would never have believed it, but I think I would be better off in hell." So St. Pete escorts her to the elevator and she goes down, down, down to hell.

The doors open and she is in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. It is hot, and it is loud with moaning and screaming of the dead. She sees all her friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash as more of it falls from above.

"I don't understand," says the senator. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and had a great time. What happened?"

The devil looks at her, smiles, and says: "Yesterday we were campaigning. Today, the election results are in."

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My favorite phrase today is old age. N., it really does get better than this. Def.: When your wife tells you to suck in your gut, and you already have.

It Is Nice to Have Friends

So, this working woman called the range repairman and made her plea.

"My stove doesn't work, and I want you to fix it. I won't be here, but I will leave the key under the mat. Leave your bill on the counter and I'll send you a check.

"One last thing: I have a big dog, named Boris, but don't worry about it. Just do not talk to my parrot. I repeat: DO NOT TALK TO MY PARROT!!"

The repairman shows up and sees this big, ugly dog. But, true to her word, the dog just lies there, watching the repairman go about his work.

It is different with the parrot, however. All the time the repairman is there, the parrot assaults him with vile language, calls him stupid, and never shuts up. The repairman finally can't stand it, and shouts: "Shut up, you stupid bird!"

The parrot: "Sic him, Boris."

(Honestly, I sometimes forget where I get this stuff. Except Bonnie sent me these next ones, which I had to change slightly because accordions are a lot funnier than cellos.)

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A noted comic was flying to Atlanta. He told his seatmate: "I've got a great accordion joke. Want to hear it?"

Seatmate: "I should warn you: I'm an accordionist."

Comic: "That's okay. I'll tell it really slow."

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Q: Why should you not drive off a cliff with three accordions in a minivan?

A: You had room for one more.

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My favorite word today is man. N., Casper Milquetoast. Def.: At the end of a tough week, Big Ernie was really tired when he made this thing.

Politics for the Political

You would think I would have done something like this a couple days ago, just in advance of Halloween. But, see, I lose my brain pretty often, so it can happen anytime. (P. & S.: None of these people is as pretty as me.)

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So, on to local politics, like, from The Oregonian:

Mary Starrett, the Constitution Party's candidate for Governor, does a "blind date" spoof for her Candidates Gone Wild video. As the "date" comes to a close, Starrett and her companion have that awkward conversation:

"Do you love me enough to BLEEP me?", Mary inquires.*

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Ron Saxton, Republican candidate for Governor and former Portland School Board member, sent out a mailer: "Saxton for Governer."

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Rob Brading, the Democratic candidate challenging Speaker of the House Karen Minnis, was born with the name Robert Dick, but had it legally changed.

If any GOP elephant wants to make something of it, the Dems are prepared. Their headline? "Rob Brading, not a Dick anymore."

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My favorite word today is politics. N., strange bedfellows. Def.: Keep your children away from this.

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(* Vote for)

Elephant! Elephant!

You know the drill: Right after Halloween you say Elephant! Elephant!, and all month you will have good luck.


(Maybe you say Rabbit! Rabbit! at the first of EACH month. It's been awhile. But the thing is, I DO have an elephant joke.)

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This is a great recipe:

Take one elephant and cut it into bite-size pieces. Cook until tender. This will serve 4,360 people.

If you have more people than that, it is okay to add a couple of rabbits to the mix. But be warned: Some people do not like hare in their stew.

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"Is this beef rare?"

"Well, no. We have it, like, just about every day."

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My favorite word today is grindstone. N., Down by the old grindstone, where I first met you.... Def.: Get polished or ground down, take your pick.

Ho Ho Har de Har Har

A public employee is in an accident, and is badly injured. On awakening, his best friend is there to tell him "I have good news and bad news."

Friend: "First off, you are severely injured and you'll never be able to work again."

Public Employee: "Okay, what's the bad news?"

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I had/have this bad hip, for which I got a cortisone shot. No dice. So my Doc says he's going to give me an epidural, which is a shot in the lumbar region.

"What do you call that?" I inquired.

"A shot in the woods," he replied.

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So these two guys go way out in the woods (lumber region) camping. They have plenty of beer, but discover they have no opener.

Fred says to Chet: "You'll have to go back to town and get us an opener."

Chet: "No, I'm not going. As soon as I go you'll eat up all the food."

Fred: "No I won't. I'll wait till you get back."

So Chet leaves. After about 5 days, Fred is a bit hungry. So he opens up a little sack of lunch meat and takes a bite.

Chet, who is hiding behind a big boulder: "I knew it! I'm not going!"

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My favorite word today is mulct. N., a-slithery a-goo goo. Past tense of milk.