tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-231665542024-03-07T21:26:52.802-05:00Tramp's RiverbankRandom thoughts and experiences infused with a touch of humor. And freebies, too.
The Crew:
TRAMP; Chief Editor, Head Brewer And Publisher /
CORRINE; Midwest Editor, Writer And Research Assistant /
SWEET; West Coast Editor, Writer And Head Of Information / CARRIE; East Coast Editor, Writer, Beer Tester and Professional Foxy Babe/ SOUTHERN GIRL: Southern Editor, Writer, Executive Commentator And Board Certified Professional AdvisorTramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.comBlogger4396125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-76619708812450179212009-05-29T08:55:00.002-04:002009-05-29T08:57:51.939-04:00New PostsAll of the new posts, are currently being placed on the new site. You may go there to read them.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.tramp55555.wordpress.com/">http://www.tramp55555.wordpress.com/</a>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com358tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-5437517613448091062008-07-06T01:37:00.000-04:002008-07-06T02:14:04.271-04:00FireworksThe wife and I this evening went to Toronto (Ohio) on the Harley for the fireworks show. And what a show it was. They run the show for about twenty five minutes, but during that time they shoot off five or six rounds each second. That is not a typo, five or six per second!<br /><br />The finale is only a couple of minutes long, but it involves one thousand rounds in and of itself. As spectacular as that sounds, it looks even more so. It lit up the entire river.<br /><br />On the way back home, we stopped by Bobby's place. Bobby and I ripped some music, and the wives plotted against us. Or so we believe. But a great time was had by all.<br /><br />We are home now and it's time for bed. And maybe some more fireworks!Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-29066238597921458132008-07-04T00:41:00.001-04:002008-07-04T01:03:45.941-04:00Virtual Fireworkshttp://www.fireworks.com/interactive/fireworks_show/default.aspTramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-52515169457136871732008-07-04T00:38:00.000-04:002008-07-04T00:39:40.765-04:00Quote"We all have our time machines. <br />Some take us back, they're called memories. <br />Some take us forward, they're called dreams." <br />--Jeremy IronsTramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-3742349623442561402008-07-03T01:20:00.000-04:002008-07-03T01:28:17.259-04:00The FourthHere is a wish for a safe and happy Independence Day celebration to everyone out there from the entire crew at the Riverbank.<br /><br />Happy Fourth of July!<br /><br />Here are two things to think about this holiday weekend.<br /><br />First, the Fourth of July celebrates our independence from England after we defeated them in the Revolutionary war. So let me ask you this.<br /><br />Does England have a Fourth of July?<br />?<br />?<br />?<br />?<br />?<br /><br />The answer is yes.<br />.<br />It comes between July 3 and July 5.<br />.<br />.<br />Second, our Revolution was because of taxation. And for about a hundred and fifty years we were not taxed in any way.<br />.<br />So what the Hell happened?Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-33114484115257180212008-07-02T20:41:00.000-04:002008-07-02T20:43:30.794-04:00Sex SurveyFrom TZ.<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />According to a new survey about sex, 51 percent of people <br />said they would consider having sex for money if the amount <br />offered was large enough. <br /><br />The average woman said the amount would have to be at least <br />$35,000. <br /><br />The average man, on the other hand, said, "How much change <br />do you have on you?"Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-53535504564820722022008-07-02T19:47:00.000-04:002008-07-02T20:06:13.697-04:00The Hazards Of Speaking EnglishFrom Alrad.<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />After an exhaustive review of the research literature, here's the final word on nutrition and health: <br /> <br />1. Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans do. <br /> <br />2. Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans do. <br /> <br />3. Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans do. <br /> <br />4. Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans do. <br /> <br />5. Germans drink beer and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans do. <br /> <br />CONCLUSION: Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills us, but the government is trying to correct the problem.Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-48960598892939210382008-07-02T00:26:00.000-04:002008-07-02T00:46:34.203-04:00Quote"Did you ever notice the people who are most adamantly against abortions are people so<br />ugly you wouldn't want to touch them in the first place?"<br />-- George Carlin<br /><br />Rest In Peace, George.Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-56743655815160723632008-07-02T00:17:00.000-04:002008-07-02T00:25:25.396-04:00The Wooden BowlFrom Corrine.<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden Bowl tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now. <br /><br />A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. <br /><br />The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. <br /><br />The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. <br /><br />When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth. <br /><br />The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. <br />"We must do something about father," said the son. <br />"I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor." <br /><br />So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. <br />There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. <br /><br />Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. <br /><br />When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. <br /><br />Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. <br /><br />The four-year-old watched it all in silence. <br /><br />One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. <br /><br />He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, <br /><br />"Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. <br /><br />The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. <br /><br />Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. <br /><br />Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. <br /><br />That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. <br /><br />For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, <br /><br />neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled. <br /><br />On a positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens, how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. <br /><br />I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. <br /><br />I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. <br /><br />I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life.." <br /><br />I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. <br /><br />I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands. <br /><br />You need to be able to throw something back.<br /><br />I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you <br /><br />But, if you focus on your family, your friends, the needs of others, your work and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you <br /><br />I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. <br /><br />I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. <br /><br />I've learned that every day, you should reach out and touch someone. <br /><br />People love that human touch -- holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. <br /><br />I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-76040510185826779502008-06-27T03:07:00.006-04:002008-06-27T06:26:02.896-04:00All You Need To Know About Investing<div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><strong>Corrine</strong>.</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>~~~~~~~~~~~~</em></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><strong>RETIREMENT PLANNING FOR 2008</strong></em></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216503012893149778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQHhitvGLGP2ETztR6qkgni2ZJcK-NJwYu7yaruJlfDMRfoUX8Acdmi9QEyF3S8TKQZf86a6-JXrvVsmcb15F7Mqc_gjmPc5wC8TW1C6eHFS3vtMVur_5NJR8hk8jit5mcBbOtsA/s400/nortel2.jpg?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216503005138000882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYOBDUBPt1AkAOBW_SMa_wXhGgdxFfshB_iPZGO3IIea8dE8TPLwX1UGfGBgIjo7O2SMHOe1cGPqkZqyQIdLYLpRsVNQDlobzgq400aCbRB3FgWyNw3SZCbr3BjgYsxlZ0StHRQ/s400/enron2.jpg?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216503012854981762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwMlu2R8-CUvn_lXssUz5Tw_5_Ol_h5VLUHMS8RIwquTId5-PVJpYDKEr0xY4g2csWWWzN6rgAXK_W852QEHvn1xzJZ4XEfXVgF1RSBTU2X2BhkG3lyqeJEnpC0_3pfgZnubQMQ/s400/worldcom2.jpg?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwzdw5rMMWVhyphenhyphen4usFTK561KVPL3VVTCoTWSqpeCoKEv4O4R4SSUjDGD5m2dHzH7Blq0TpWU0IZCVu3znicFx2Rt0nvuDrxkgd7Rjtpwe2T69dYsvhZoHC9JOyu2cxsA4UBPVKBA/s1600-h/delta.2bmp.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216503012037965074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwzdw5rMMWVhyphenhyphen4usFTK561KVPL3VVTCoTWSqpeCoKEv4O4R4SSUjDGD5m2dHzH7Blq0TpWU0IZCVu3znicFx2Rt0nvuDrxkgd7Rjtpwe2T69dYsvhZoHC9JOyu2cxsA4UBPVKBA/s400/delta.2bmp.jpg?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TRE3XlePNMysbZOsPsZrOJXZJ2YrRo7XH3nCAdV069EPFRcIfdmiOQkw3LpehiBanxuSOaLn02ZEAb0wZ89T476RccAtk7ewCdt3-o6py6RL0jgL1AVJLC3e2CvfwY9hwSP1lA/s1600-h/beercan2s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216503010238008914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4TRE3XlePNMysbZOsPsZrOJXZJ2YrRo7XH3nCAdV069EPFRcIfdmiOQkw3LpehiBanxuSOaLn02ZEAb0wZ89T476RccAtk7ewCdt3-o6py6RL0jgL1AVJLC3e2CvfwY9hwSP1lA/s400/beercan2s.jpg?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216504084723511170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQojc9aLnItKLrmShudOqMGVgVQco0w3ocmYge9fX9vpPBuSzROaFkQu7KpxCmQmb6V5h8KEXejfzhN3o6q5agygn0W79gQLZT54A_bXWEUYNPzuwJanyNgMU4rhV8DVj3jGqTA/s400/401Keg.JPG?SSImageQuality=Full" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /></div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-38023237643570239902008-06-26T03:35:00.000-04:002008-06-26T03:37:34.698-04:00Three Grandmas<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">From <em><strong>Irene</strong>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></em><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Three old mischievous Grandmas were sitting on a bench outside a nursing home. About then an old Grandpa walked by, and one of the old Grandmas yelled out saying, "We bet we can tell exactly how old you are." The old man said, "There ain't no way you can guess it, you old fools." One of the old Grandmas said, "Sure we can! Just drop your pants and undershorts and we can tell your exact age." Embarrassed just a little, but anxious to prove they couldn't do it, he dropped his drawers. The Grandmas asked him to first turn around a couple of times and to jump up and down several times. Then they all piped up and said, "You're 87 years old!" Standing with his pants down around his ankles,the old gent asked, "How in the world did you guess?" Slapping their knees & grinning from ear to ear, all 3 old ladies happily yelled in unison--</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"We were at your birthday party yesterday!"</em></span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-14362488864847778532008-06-23T01:29:00.001-04:002008-06-23T01:31:49.882-04:00The Best Quiz Ever<div align="center"><a href="http://joeschwartz.net/quiz.htm"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Yes it is!</strong></span></a></div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-87218688398884419362008-06-23T00:22:00.002-04:002008-06-23T01:27:25.417-04:00Quote<em></em><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Dear <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>God</strong></span>,</em></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Did <span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"><strong>You</strong></span> really mean </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"do unto others as they do unto you"? </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Because if <strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">You</span></strong> did, </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>then I'm going to fix my brother!</em></span></div><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></em><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>-<strong>Darla, Age 8</strong></em></span></div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-79978351389862059262008-06-22T02:55:00.002-04:002008-06-22T03:08:01.947-04:00Kid Volt<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><div><br /><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> gave me a new nickname tonight. That’s it, up there. And there is a story to it.<br />Also, OUCH !!!!! </div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214598471357667954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J58aEhJkTUNhO4aRl53Ij6gVC5u2QJv50Ra948QsGNSmKtBXoHPBPqdRhkgEsnsaVhAFG_eD8Vw8J5O3Jl6FksBbj9nTSRE_-2FfD0Qh0wSXgVCQ01CAvw1TbKWJBmWoGm6Z4w/s400/lightning.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />Tonight we had a pretty good thunderstorm. The National Weather Service warned us to watch out for large hail, damaging winds, and frequent lightning. I was on my bike, but made it home just before the storm.<br />I went down in my basement (the Dungeon) and was working on the Riverbank site. <em><strong>Bobby</strong></em> called me and told me that the storm was here. I said I wanted to see it. So I walked out onto my patio. I don’t remember everything after that, but <em><strong>Bobby</strong></em> said he heard me screaming.<br />I had taken about three steps out my door when a bolt of lightning hit me. It hit me on my left thumb, where I was holding my cell phone. It burned a hole in my thumb, traveled up my arm, across my shoulders, and blew a hole in my right forearm where it exited my body. My cell phone melted.<br />I think I was in shock at that point. It hurt a lot. And it was tremendously bright. But it was silent to me. <em><strong>Bobby</strong></em> said he heard the thunderous boom, but I heard nothing. I think the enormous voltage shut down my hearing.<br />I would recommend to anyone that they skip this experience if possible. It really hurts. I have a V shaped burn on my left thumb and two holes there, plus a hole in my right forearm, from the lightning’s departure. My joints and my chest hurt quite a bit, even though it happened over six hours ago. I remember wondering why I was getting shocked, and how long it seemed to go on, even though it was probably over in about a tenth of a second.<br />But I couldn’t believe how much it hurt. Man, does it hurt! I’m glad it didn’t kill me, that would have sucked.<br />And my melted cell phone still works!</div><br /><div></span></div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-5244911466741073282008-06-22T01:28:00.005-04:002008-06-22T02:29:53.510-04:00New Geno Facts Exposed!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAtoEwFJA_hhDCZgupWZpa3_z59NvfAvO8HbTzZZ00priHaW0SnweUPvOcLc5MpZ2T0YJ5hsC47Gf4AAXp20HzjFxcOBpKxOzdf4riyYqDoIHotkljUbJK3p6YjlzKfBeCiZ4HA/s1600-h/Geno+Eyes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214588400213265602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcAtoEwFJA_hhDCZgupWZpa3_z59NvfAvO8HbTzZZ00priHaW0SnweUPvOcLc5MpZ2T0YJ5hsC47Gf4AAXp20HzjFxcOBpKxOzdf4riyYqDoIHotkljUbJK3p6YjlzKfBeCiZ4HA/s400/Geno+Eyes.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong></strong></em></span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> was born standing up and talking back. When the doctor said to his Mom, <em>“Congratulations, it’s a boy”,</em> <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> slapped the doctor and said, <em>“Don't call me boy!”</em><br /></div></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Newton's Third Law</strong> is wrong: Although it states that for each action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, there is no force equal in reaction to <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Simply by pulling on both ends, <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> can stretch diamonds back into coal.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno </strong></em>is the only person who can slam a revolving door.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> is expected to win gold in every swimming competition at the 2008 Beijing Olympics, even though <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> does not swim. This is because when <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> enters the water, the water gets out of his way and <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> simply walks across the pool floor.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> built a better mousetrap, but the world was too frightened to beat a path to his door.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em>Helen Keller's</em></strong> favorite color was <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> eats beef jerky and craps gunpowder. Then, he uses that gunpowder to make a bullet, which he uses to kill a cow and make more beef jerky. Some people refer to this as the <em>"Circle of Life."</em><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">If, by some incredible space-time paradox, <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> would ever fight himself, he'd win. Period.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The <em><strong>Sherman</strong></em> tank was originally called the <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> tank until <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> decided it wasn't tough enough to be associated with him. The Army, for fear of <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>, renamed the tank and promised to develop a weapon more fitting of his name. To date, no weapon created has been bad-ass enough to be named after <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> does not "style" his hair. It lies perfectly in place out of sheer terror.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There is no such thing as global warming. <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> was cold, so he turned the sun up.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It's widely believed that <em><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">Jesus</span></strong></em> was <em><strong>Geno's</strong></em> stunt double for crucifixion due to the fact that it is impossible for nails to pierce <em><strong>Geno's</strong></em> skin.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> did, in fact, build Rome in a day.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ninjas want to grow up to be just like <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>. But usually they grow up just to be killed by <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> once sued <strong>Burger King</strong> after they refused to put razor wire in his <strong>Whopper</strong>, insisting that that actually is "his" way.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Contrary to popular belief, <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> doesn't play <em><strong><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">God</span></strong></em>. Playing is for children.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> is the only person in the world who can actually email a middle finger.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> can set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. At night.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Some kids play <em>'Kick the Can'</em>. <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> played <em>'Kick the Tanker'</em>.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> was a baby, he didn't suck his mother's breast. His mother served him twelve year old whiskey, straight out of the bottle.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">According to Einstein's theory of relativity, <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> can actually knock you into yesterday.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> invented a language that incorporates punches and kicks. So next time Geno is kicking your ass, don’t be offended or hurt, he may be just trying to tell you he likes your hat.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Fear is not the only emotion <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> can smell. He can also detect hope, as in <em>"I hope I don't get my ass kicked by <strong>Geno</strong>."<br /></em></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There is endless debate about the existence of the human soul. Well it does exist, and <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> finds it delicious.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> wears a live rattlesnake as a condom.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The Bible was originally titled "<em><strong>Geno</strong></em> and Friends"<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><strong>Geno</strong></em> can lead a horse to water AND make it drink.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Nagasaki never had an Atomic Bomb dropped on it. <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> jumped out of a plane, hit the ground and punched it.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /></div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-74551455269903497422008-06-21T13:51:00.003-04:002008-06-21T14:22:07.780-04:00Warren Zevon<div></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em>Warren Zevon</em></strong> was a great artist. I love his music. Everyone knows <strong>'Werewolves of London'</strong>, <strong>'Excitable Boy'</strong>, <strong>and 'Lawyers Guns and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOLnfKLn1ccRep9cW33ZvcCHoa7Kx8DagKNufSb2FHMRp9UrQfBv6xXtJAAvb2PEDmFlSd40Uesp28v_jzWuMf0rnCWDGk5PWakwMz3-oDK075VVUNhdu7NIgPy4onKD0UV6v8Uw/s1600-h/Warren+Zevon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214401385698646994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOLnfKLn1ccRep9cW33ZvcCHoa7Kx8DagKNufSb2FHMRp9UrQfBv6xXtJAAvb2PEDmFlSd40Uesp28v_jzWuMf0rnCWDGk5PWakwMz3-oDK075VVUNhdu7NIgPy4onKD0UV6v8Uw/s320/Warren+Zevon.jpg" border="0" /></a>Money'</strong>. But did you know that he wrote <strong>'Poor Poor Pitiful Me'</strong>? And I think his recorded version of it is better than <strong><em>Linda Ronstadt's</em></strong>. <strong>'Splendid</strong> <strong>Isolation'</strong> is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. And <strong>'Mr. Bad Example'</strong> is downright funny. Here is a line from that song.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><div align="center"><br /><strong><em><span style="font-family:arial;">"I'm very well acquainted with the Seven Deadly Sins, </span></em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em><span style="font-family:arial;">I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in."</span></em></strong><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The reason I bring him up is because there is currently a petition being circulated to induct him into the <strong>Rock and Roll Hall of Fame</strong>. I can't believe he isn't in it already. The people in Cleveland must be slow!<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />If you are like me, sign this petition. It's an online petition, and I've mentioned before that online petitions are not valid because a real petition has to be signed. Well, they got around that by including an app that allows you to sign it right on your computer. See it </span><a href="http://www.warrenzevon.com/petition/petition.htm"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>HERE</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><strong><em>Warren</em></strong> is in Heaven now, but he also belongs in the <strong>Rock Hall</strong>. More so than many who are there.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />Thanks for the great music <strong><em>Warren</em></strong>, and say hi to <strong><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">God</span></em></strong> for me. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">He</span></em></strong> took you for your music, you know?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-13605038129465592642008-06-21T06:20:00.003-04:002008-06-21T07:08:50.193-04:00Speed Freak<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I love to go fast. Always have, and always will. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />Some people don’t however. And that’s okay with me, I use it to my advantage. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />For example, I had a certain individual ask me for a ride on my bike the other day. This was a person I’d rather not take along with me when I’m riding my scoot. And I knew he didn’t like to go fast. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />So off we went, holding a steady ninety on the <strong>Harley</strong>’s clock. We arrived at our destination, which was <em><strong>Stewie’s</strong></em> place, and this person bitched about my high-speed ride. I responded with, <em>“You shouldn’t have got on if you didn’t want to go fast!”</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />When it was time to leave, he made me promise not to go ninety on the way back. I gave him my vow, and I am not a liar. True to my word, we did not go ninety. We went a hundred. <span style="color:#ffffff;">..</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />Hey, a hundred ain’t ninety. Besides, when I ride with <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>, we cruise at a buck fifteen. <span style="font-size:+0;">That’s how <em><strong>Geno</strong></em> rides, and it doesn’t bother me. I like it. A lot. And I always will.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />In my defense, I was racing motorcycles at the Pro level when I was twelve years old. When I turned sixteen, my first car was a five hundred horsepower <strong>Z28 Camaro</strong> (which I still have). </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Going fast is in my upbringing, and I do it well. I have never been killed (this I can prove), nor have I killed anyone else. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />I just absolutely and completely love speed. I believe the words used by <em><strong>Molly Hatchet</strong></em> in their song, <em>‘Flirting With Disaster’</em> are accurate, where they said, <em><strong>“I’ve got the pedal to the floor, my life is running faster”.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />The fastest I’ve gone on a bike was a buck thirty one. In my car, one fifty five. And the fastest I’ve ever gone was seven hundred and fifty miles per hour (that was in a jet chartered by the <strong>U.S. Navy</strong>). </span><br /><span style="font-size:+0;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />Still, I want to go faster. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />And I already know that no matter how fast I go, it won’t be enough. I’ll always need more.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br />I love to go fast. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-22061856577646716072008-06-21T02:49:00.003-04:002008-06-21T03:20:37.867-04:00The Rulebook<div align="center"> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From <em><strong>Geno</strong></em>.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:180%;"><strong>The Guys' Rules</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down. </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Finally, the guys' side of the story. </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>We always hear "the rules" from the female side.<br />Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules! </em></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ffffff;">.</span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>Please note</strong>.</span> These are all numbered <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">"1" </span>ON PURPOSE! </strong></em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Men ARE not mind readers. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Learn to work the toilet seat. You're a big girl. If it's up put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Sunday sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Shopping is NOT a sport. And no, we are never going to think of it that way. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Crying is blackmail. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work! Just say it! </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Yes and no are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Come to us with a problem only if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem. See a doctor. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 Days. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. You can either ask us to do something or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Whenever possible, please say whatever you have to say during commercials. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. If it itches, it will be scratched. We do that. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," We will act like nothing's wrong. We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, expect an answer you don't want to hear. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine...Really. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as baseball, the shotgun formation, or golf. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. You have enough clothes. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. You have too many shoes. </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. I am in shape. Round IS a shape! </em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>1. Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight; but did you know men really don't mind that? It's like camping.</em></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-46378592041477743282008-06-21T02:44:00.002-04:002008-06-21T02:49:01.297-04:00Speling Is Impartent!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From <em><strong>Alrad</strong>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>~~~~~~~~~~~</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>This is weird, but interesting! </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! </em></span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-66156683869532479512008-06-20T02:41:00.002-04:002008-06-20T02:44:58.764-04:00Job Offer<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From <em><strong>Irene</strong>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>~~~~~~~~~~~~</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>A young man goes into the Job Centre in Worcester, MA, and sees a card advertising for a Gynecologist' s Assistant.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Interested, he goes to learn more.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"Can you give me some more details about this?" he asks the guy behind the desk.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>The Job Centre man sorts through his files and replies, "Oh yes, here it is: The job entails you getting the lady patients ready for the gynecologist. You have to help them out of their underwear, lie them down and carefully wash their genital regions. You then apply shaving foam and gently shave off all their pubic hair, then rub in soothing oils so that they're ready for the gynecologist' s examination. There's an annual salary of $45,000, but you're going to have to go to Providence RI. That's about 100 miles from here."</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"Oh why, is that where the job's at?"</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"No sir - that's where the end of the line is!"</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-74107191616165163342008-06-20T01:20:00.002-04:002008-06-20T02:36:30.548-04:00Websites<p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </p><p><a href="http://www.lovecalculator.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The Love Calculator</span></a></p><p><a href="http://whowouldbuythat.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Who Would Buy That?</span></a></p><p><a href="http://www.worldwatch.org/taxonomy/term/44"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Good Stuff? - A Behind-the-Scenes Guide to the Things We Buy</span></a></p><p><a href="http://pubs.acs.org/cen/whatstuff/stuff.html"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Whats That Stuff?</span></a></p><p><a href="http://www.generallyawesome.com/epigrammy12.html"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Epigrammies</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> -<em> "It is ironic that irony hardly ever involves iron."</em></span></p>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-84225797767041219272008-06-20T01:11:00.000-04:002008-06-20T01:13:22.584-04:00Redneck Logic<span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From</span> <em><strong>Corrine</strong>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">~~~~~~~~~~~</span></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Two rednecks, Billy Bob and Willie, are sitting at their favorite bar, drinking beer. Billy Bob turns to Willie and says, 'You know, I'm tired of going through life without an education. Tomorrow I think I'll go to the Community College and sign up for some classes.' Willy thinks it's a good idea, and the two leave.<br />The next day, Billy Bob goes down to the college and meets the Dean of Admissions, who signs him up for the four basic classes: Math, English, History, and Logic.<br />'Logic?' Billy Bob says. 'What's that?'<br />The dean says, 'I'll give you an example. Do you own a weed eater?'<br />'Yeah.'<br />'Then logically speaking, because you own a weed eater, I think that you would have a yard.'<br />'That's true, I do have a yard.'<br />'I'm not done yet,' the dean says. 'Because you have a yard, I think logically that you would have a house.'<br />'Yes, I do have a house.'<br />'And because you have a house, I think that you might logically have a family.'<br />'Yes, I have a family.'<br />'I'm not done yet. Because you have a family, then logically you must have a wife. And because you have a wife, then logic tells me you must be a heterosexual.'<br />'I am a heterosexual. That's amazing; you were able to find out all of that because I have a weed eater.'Excited to take the class now, Billy Bob shakes the Dean’s hand and leaves to go meet Willie at the bar. He tells Willie about his classes, how he is signed up for Math, English, History, and Logic.<br />'Logic?' Willie says, 'What's that?'<br />Billy Bob says, 'I'll give you an example. Do you have a weed eater?'<br />'No.'<br />'Then you're a queer.'</em></span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-11047312074028978142008-06-20T01:00:00.001-04:002008-06-20T01:09:05.354-04:00It's A Fact<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From</span> <span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><strong>Corrine</strong>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><strong>INTERESTING OBSERVATION?</strong><br /><br />1. The sport of choice for the urban poor is BASKETBALL.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>2 The sport of choice for maintenance level employees is BOWLING.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>3 The sport of choice for front-line workers is FOOTBALL.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>4 The sport of choice for supervisors is BASEBALL.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>5 The sport of choice for middle management is TENNIS.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>and........</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>6 The sport of choice for corporate executives and officers is GOLF.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>THE AMAZING CONCLUSION:</em></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span></em><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>The higher you go in the corporate structure, the smaller your balls become.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-37367393348936002552008-06-20T00:26:00.002-04:002008-06-20T00:31:05.050-04:00The Wine Bra<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><a href="http://blogs.reuters.com/oddly-enough/2008/06/19/her-cups-runneth-over/">Yep!</a></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And a real beer belly, too!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From <strong><em>Bob Basler</em></strong>, oddly enough!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I don't know where he keeps finding this stuff.</span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23166554.post-31915844184560339002008-06-20T00:22:00.001-04:002008-06-20T00:26:05.005-04:00Misunderstanding<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">From <em><strong>TZ</strong>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>~~~~~~~~</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>A little fella walks into a bar. Unfortunately there is a pile of dog shit just inside the door, and he slips in it and falls over. He gets up, cleans himself up and walks to the bar and buys a drink. </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>A great big man then enters the bar. He slips in the same pile of shit, falls, gets up, cleans up and buys a drink. </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>The little guy turns to the big guy and, trying to strike up a conversation, points to the pile by the door and says, "I just did that." </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffffff;"><em>.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>The big guy punches him in the mouth. </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Tramphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15607967887512034674noreply@blogger.com0