Well, today is Friday, tomorrow is Saturday … Valentine’s Day, and I’ve already completed tomorrow’s episode and didn’t remember that it was V-day. Not that I particularly cared on my part. Mary and I never really did anything special on Valentine’s Day, both of us feeling it was basically a made up holiday to sell stuff. If you need a special day to be romantic then you don’t have a real relationship to begin with. We were both Valentines Day romantic with each other throughout the year. We didn’t need a special day…even when we were dating.

Anyway, my apologies to anyone who was expecting something special.

The world is going nuts, my life is deeply entrenched in such. So we all need some laughter to see us through.

I’m not normally one for fart jokes, but that one was too good to not share.

Just like a woman to complain. Come on! He shoveled!

I had actually did a search for something else and this popped up on line. This is a carving that my dad did many years ago that appeared on the cover of this wood carving magazine. Dad was an amazing artist in many fields. For many years in the area where he lived, they had to ask him to judge the wood carving competitions because then he couldn’t enter. Because when other carvers found out he was entering they wouldn’t because they knew they couldn’t win.  This was not the only time he was featured on the cover of this magazine.

Officers were in a physical struggle with an armed suspect when a gun was perceived and the word “gun” was shouted. Under settled self-defense law, officers are entitled to rely on fellow officers’ reasonable perceptions. They do not have to personally confirm the threat.

These next six are from Lynn … Take a Second Look:

This photo looks a bit odd at first glance, but give it a second look, and you’ll see your eyes were just playing some mischievous tricks.

Mmm, who doesn’t love a good, gooey pastry for breakfast or snack time? But hold the sugar, folks! We’ve stumbled upon a batch of pastries that just won’t do. These slithering, hissing delights may look like they’re begging to be devoured, but we’ll have to pass. Why would anyone pass on a delicious glazed donut? Well, take a long look because these donuts might have some serious repercussions if you take a bite!

Who knew pastry danger was a real thing?

Photos like this can completely alter your perception of reality! The mind can really play tricks on you, and this boat in the ocean, which is a leather couch, is proof enough.

Don’t look over these photos too quickly, or you might miss what they really are! Just like this sea urchin turned curly-haired diver!

At first glance, those ducks swimming around the pond look like they’re having the time of their lives. But upon closer inspection, it’s revealed that they’re actually motorcycles drowning! The handlebars peeking through give it away, but for a moment there, it was a case of “what the duck?” 

This is an amazingly clear photo of Jupiter from a telescope! You can see so much detail on this planet, from the colors and texture to even little animals. That’s right; there are ducks, grass, and even bodies of water. Who would have thought that Jupiter could be so… duck-friendly? Okay, so maybe it’s not Jupiter, but it sure does look like it.

Okay, so this one is a VERY cool website to visit.  Thanks to Stephanie for sending this one in.

35 Extremely Obvious Things Everyone On Earth Should Know I Just Learned For The First Time That Completely And Totally Blew My Mind

Now I get it.

Okay…I have to jump in here. This is NOT a torpedo. Not even CLOSE to a torpedo.

Well, gee Impish, how do YOU know? Are you a torpedo expert?

Nope, not a torpedo expert. But, I probably am an expert on what THAT is. That, my dear friends, is a BDU-33 practice bomb. They go on airplanes, not submarines. They weight 25 pounds and are painted blue (for practice). And over my 13 year Air Force bomb loading career, I may have loaded hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of them.  I probably didn’t hit a million, but I’ll bet it was close.  An average day could have seen us slam 300 of them, easy.  So, let’s do the math.  Thinking that I didn’t do that my whole career because some years I was in the gun shop. So let’s say 6 years. And let’s say that 3 days a week we loaded an average of 200 25 lb bombs. Now that doesn’t count the big bombs that we loaded regularly either. So, 3 days a week x 52 weeks a year x 6 years x 200 bombs a day x 25 lbs a bomb = (boy was I wrong!!!) 4,680,000 pounds of practice bombs!!!! 

Holy cow, I’ve never done that before.  I suppose that does make me an expert.

I laughed so hard!

Shouldn’t that be a given?

A man can’t be too careful in the choice of his enemies.

– Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Dear Ma and Pa:


I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. 

Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places are filled. 

I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late.


Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. 

No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically nothing. 

Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there’s warm water.


Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food. 

But tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. 

Their food plus yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again.


It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much. 

We go on “route” marches, which the Platoon Sergeant says are long walks to harden us. 

If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different. 

A “route march” is about as far as to our mailbox at home. 

Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat.

The Sergeant is like a schoolteacher. He nags some. 

The Capt. is like the school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around and frown. 

They don’t bother you none.

This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. 

The bulls-eye is near as big as a Chipmunk head and don’t move. 

And it ain’t shooting at you, like the Higgett boys at home. 

All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. 

You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.

Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. 

You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain’t like fighting with that ole bull at home. 

I’m about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. 

He joined up the same time as me. But I’m only 5’6″ and 130 pounds and he’s 6’8″ and weighs near 300 pounds dry. 

Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.

Your loving daughter,

Gail

That used to be me ALL THE TIME!!!!!  Two things changed for me. The first helped some: My dear Mary’s faith in God’s grace.  And the second, sadly, helped a lot. My own faith in God’s grace, which came as strongly as it should have been, only after the passing of my dear Mary. And one day … one day probably soon, my own testimony story will probably be a Last Word in here. That will be tough, since just writing this has got me crying.  

I have said it over and over and over again.

Look at it this way, if it’s in the Bible, it’s the truth. It’s God’s Word. It doesn’t change, it’s not outdated, it is what we need to live by. If a pastor tells you anything different, he … or she … is an impastor. 

A marriage broker goes to see Mr. Cohen, a confirmed bachelor for many years.

“Mr Cohen, don’t let it get too late. I have exactly the woman you need.  

You only have to say the word and you’ll meet and be married in no time!” says the marriage broker.

“Don’t bother,” replies Mr. Cohen, “I’ve two sisters at home, who look after all my needs….I am happy with that arrangement.”

“That’s all well and good, but all the sisters in the world cannot fill the role of a wife.”

“I said ‘two sisters’…. I didn’t say they were mine!” 

“So tell me, Mrs. Smith,” asked the interviewer, “have you any other skills you think might be worth mentioning?” 

“Actually, yes,” said the applicant modestly. “Last year I had two short stories published in national magazines, and I finished my novel.”

“Very impressive,” he commented, “but I was thinking of skills you could apply during office hours.” 

Mrs. Smith explained brightly, “Oh, that was during office hours.” 

Georgia  Law

No one may carry an ice cream cone in their back pocket if it is Sunday. 

This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public toilet. And it finally explains to all you men what takes us so long. 

My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she’d bring me in the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. 

Then, she’d carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she’d instruct, “Never, never sit on a public toilet seat.” 

And she’d demonstrate “The Stance,” which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. 

But by this time, I’d have peed down my leg. And we’d go home. 

That was a long time ago. I’ve had lots of experience with public toilets since then, but I’m still not particularly fond of public toilets, especially those with powerful, red-eye sensors. 

Those toilets know when you want them to flush. 

They are psychic toilets. But I always confuse their psychic ability by following my mother’s advice and assuming The Stance. 

The Stance is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one’s bladder is especially full. This is most likely to occur after watching a full-length feature film. 

During the movie pee, it is nearly impossible to hold The Stance. You know what I mean. You drink a two liter cup of Diet Coke, then sit still 
through a three-hour saga because, for God’s sake, even if you didn’t wipe or wash your hands in the bathroom, you’d still miss the pivotal 
part of the movie or the second scene, in which they flash the leading man’s naked derriere. 

So, you cross your legs and you hold it. And you hold it until that first credit rolls and you sprint to the bathroom, about ready to explode all over your internal organs. 

And at the bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there’s a half-price sale on Mel Gibson’s underwear in there. 

So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely. And you finally get closer. 

You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied. You hope no one is doing frivolous things behind those stall doors, like blowing her nose or checking the contents of her wallet.

Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter. 

You hang your handbag on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume The Stance. 

Relief. More relief. Then your thighs begin to shake. You’d love to sit down but you certainly hadn’t taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold The Stance as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper. Might as well be ready when you are done. The toilet paper dispenser is empty. 

Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny napkin you wiped your fingers on after eating buttered popcorn. It would have to do. You crumble it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. 

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn’t work and your  pocketbook whams you in the head. “Occupied!” you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your buttered popcorn napkin in a puddle and falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat. 

You get up quickly, but it’s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough time to. 

Your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, “You don’t know what kind of diseases you could get.” 

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to China. 

At that point, you give up. You’re finished peeing. You’re soaked by the splashing water. You’re exhausted. You try to wipe with a Chicklet wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. 

You can’t figure out how to operate the sinks with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point. 

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River. 

You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman’s hand and say warmly, “Here You might need this.” 

At this time, you see your spouse, who has entered, used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. 

“What took you so long?” he asks, annoyed. This is when you kick him sharply in the shin and go home. 

Thanks for listening to me.

Thanks for laughing with me. 

Apparently the topic de jour on the news this morning (Saturday) is all things Epstein. Everything from the Clintons finally appearing and the odds of them lying in their depositions to Bill Gates asking Epstein for antibiotics to slip into his wife’s coffee because of an STD he caught while on the island. I think we will soon see a new TV show “As The Island Turns” or some other such nonsense. It would make millions.

Hmm, maybe I ought to make a pitch. 

Probably not.

Because I COULDN’T CARE LESS.

Everyone is so wrapped up in this nonsense. Evil is wrapped up in this world and when it comes to light, people act all surprised. And when it involves people of power, they act even more surprised. Well, gee, how in the world do you think they got in power? 

Anyway, enough about that. Moving on to important stuff…

What an outstanding sign!

Well, he doesn’t come out and exactly say so, but this may be a picture of the infamous Friggin’ Pete. It does all fit.

Apparently exercise helps you with decision making. It’s true. I went for a run this morning and decided
I’m never going again.

The most common words people misuse:
Two, To, Too
There, Their, They’re
Your, You’re
and Racist

Another absolutely AWESOME prank! BUT! If he got charged by the repairman, his asshole friends need to cover the bill. That’s only fair.

Amen! Amen! Praise God! Amen!

Hmmm, looking ahead, I have a whole row of dragon tattoos coming up.

After months of uninterrupted analysis, I am now prepared to conclude that, indeed, my laundry is not going to fold itself.

I LOVE THIS ONE!!!! Don’t get it? Read Jonah … it’s only 4 chapters long.

We had a cappuccino machine, I thought my wife kept cleaning the crispy dried milk off the steamer spout, she thought I was doing it.

A year later, after coffee every morning, we found out the cat was licking it off when we were at work.

Today, my son came to me and gave me a hug – out of the blue. I was very pleasantly surprised – that is, until I heard him tell his father, “You’re right. She did gain weight.”

Me: So my husband… 

First Grader: You have a husband? 

Me: I do, the whole time you’ve known me. 

First Grader: Oh, I always thought you were feral. 

Me: Er, do you mean ‘single’? 

First Grader: Whatever the word is that you use for stray cats.

I think people who use the wrong word should have the humidity to admit it.

I always mean what I say.

I may not always mean to say it out loud, but I do mean it.

Yes!!!

I got a book at the used book store titled “A guide to Surgical Procedures”. I opened it up and the appendix was missing.

So, I need to get this off my chest.

I’m not sure if this was actually in the paper, just on their website, or just on this app that I have, but the Indy Star, a Newspaper in Indianapolis had this headline: IMPD reviewing after video shows officer threatening Black teen driver.

That sounds pretty bad right?

Well, it gets even worse when you read a little bit further down and you read that the officer had threatened to kill a 17-year-old black driver was posted on social media. Okay, catch up a little bit, IMPD is Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Dept.

The article talks about this poor kid’s mom saying that her son and 3 of his friends were driving along when they noticed a police car following them. They get pulled over at a gas station, less than half a mile from their school. The kid puts his phone on the dashboard, and you can hear the officer say, “We’re gonna get you out of the car here. So when you get out, I’m gonna pull you out, I want you to put your hands on top of the car, Ok?”

“What am I getting out for?

“The car smells like weed. Step out of the car,”

The officer grabs his wrist and pulls him out.

“Yo, what?” he asks

“I will f—ing kill you. Do you understand me?” the officer says

So, sounds bad, right? Let me tell you what makes this a rant for me. Because if you were to stop right there or just read the headline, you don’t get the true story. And I understand COMPLETELY why that officer said what he said.

Here’s the rest of the story:

These four kids were at an event at the school.

The police were warned that some of the kids at the school event were going to have weapons, so they were keeping an eye out for that.

These police officers witnessed these four kids with a weapon get into this car and allowed them to drive away from the school for safety reasons so they wouldn’t be near the school and then pulled them over in a safe(r) location.

I’m speculating on this next point, but it seems highly probable, if one of the kids made ANY KIND of move that EVEN LOOKED LIKE he was reaching for a weapon, that police officer would have said those exact words, “I will f—ing kill you. Do you understand me?” to get him to stop whatever it was he was doing or even thinking about doing because he DID NOT WANT TO HAVE TO SHOOT A KID. 

The cop had no idea at that point in time, which one of the kids or if ALL of the kids had a weapon on them. If any of them even made a move that LOOKED like they COULD have been going for a weapon, he would have used his loudest, most aggressive voice to get him to think twice about what he MIGHT have been thinking about doing because if he even LOOKED like he was going to pull a gun the police officer was just about obligated to shoot him. And he DID   NOT   WANT   TO   SHOOT   A   KID.  Even a dumb one.

In the end, three of the boys were released and one was arrested for possession of a firearm, thus proving my point. Just like you yell loudly at a child to NOT TOUCH THAT when they reach for a hot stove to frighten them into stopping what they are doing in the middle of what they are about to do.

I have used the exact same tactic myself while working in the jail as a jailor. (Also as a Sergeant with young airmen … same theory).

Of course, IMPD is reviewing the body cam footage of the officer, which, of course, hasn’t been released, they’ve apologized for the foul language and said that this is not the way we want interactions between law enforcement and the youth of Indianapolis to be and yadda, yadda, political correctness, woke nonsense.  

My bet is that this guy publicly will be counseled on proper interactions with youth or some such crap while privately will be told he did everything correctly. At least, that’s the way it should go down, if I have my facts straight.

So, Mom. All upset because your poor, innocent baby was “threatened by a police officer”? He may very well have saved his, or one of the other boys’ life.  Let me ask you a question: How come your poor, innocent baby was driving around with another kid with a gun? You can’t possibly say he didn’t know he had a gun if the police knew from a distance. What sort of friends are YOU allowing YOUR son to hang out with? Why aren’t you outraged over the fact that the school isn’t doing more to make sure that weapons aren’t allowed on school property or at a school function? Why is it the police’s fault when they are trying to SAVE YOUR CHILD’S LIFE?

And shame on you, Indy Star for putting that kind of a slant on that article instead of backing the IMPD up front, like you should have.

Okay, I’m done ranting. I just had to. I have a lot of friends in law enforcement and even some on IMPD and I’m sick and tired of them getting the dirty end of the stick. Do you know how scary a traffic stop is? 

I do.

I desire to pontificate.

But …

I won’t.

At least at this point. Maybe I will deeper into the issue. Who knows.

So, agonizingly true.

This is so wrong and I laughed so hard!

One Saturday morning, Bob got up early, put on his long johns, and began to dress quietly.

He slipped into the garage and hooked his boat up to the truck, then proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.

There was snow mixed with rain, and the wind was blowing 50 mph.

 

He immediately pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad throughout the day.

Disappointed, he went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.

He cuddled up to his wife, now with a different anticipation, and whispered,
“The weather is terrible outside.”

His wife sleepily replied,
“I know. Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that crap?”

Just think! And as pretty as you think it is, you can’t possibly IMAGINE!

GRRRRR!!!!!!!!!! Don’t get me started!!!!!

All I’m saying is climate change wasn’t an issue when we were sacrificing virgins to the sun god regularly.

Yeah, but you have no IDEA what other problems we had when we were doing that … the Tower of Babel ring any bells? Sodom? Gomorrah?  Noah’s flood?

There is more truth in that simple meme than most people learn in their whole lives. Faith. That small five-letter word which is so incredibly deep. Having the faith to believe that all things … all things … the good and the bad, like the vows of a marriage ceremony: for better for worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health … you can read that last one as in pain and pain-free. It’s all there with God, too. Jesus is the Groom and he’s returning for His Bride, the Church. The Church is not a building or a denomination, it’s the people – Us.

My son asked me if he could fart in a box and give it to his friend for Christmas.

On a related note, I know what I’m giving my brother this year.

Singing in the shower is all fun and games until you get shampoo in your mouth.

Then, it becomes a soap opera.

A former Sergeant in the Marine Corps took a new job as a high school teacher.

Just before the school year started, he injured his back. He was required to wear a plaster cast around the upper part of his body. Fortunately, the cast fit under his shirt and wasn’t noticeable.

On the first day of class, he found himself assigned to the toughest students in the school. The smart punks, having already heard the new teacher was a former Marine, were leery of him and he knew they would be testing his discipline in the classroom.

Walking confidently into the rowdy classroom, the new teacher opened the window wide and sat down at his desk. When a strong breeze made his tie flap, he picked up a stapler and stapled the tie to his chest.

Dead silence…

The rest of the year went very smoothly.

See!  It’s always Bob!

You forgot, “Rub dirt on it.”

No kidding. I really can’t see today’s kids doing the things that we did.

I just replaced the air freshener can with an air horn in the church bathroom…

…now we wait!!!

Yup, been there, done that. Had a buddy that we had to do that EVERY time.

In the span of 17 years 114 people died in a weight lifting accident at the gym.

In the same 17 year time frame, only one man died while eating a doughnut.

Life is about the choices we make.

Educate yourself.

If you want to know how the week is going, I just took a pillowcase out of the dryer, put it over my head thinking it was a t-shirt to wear to bed, spent 15 seconds inside it searching for the neck-hole, and then mumbled “what is this, pants?”

And that’s it my friends. No serious pontificating after all. May the laughter of today help you through the problems of tomorrow.

Well, that was probably the shortest furlough I’ve ever been on. Real time, it lasted a day and a half. If you want to be absolutely accurate, from the time I signed the furlough letter and turned it in, to the time I got the text message saying that I needed to return the next morning at regular time, it was exactly 30 hours and 52 minutes. 

Now, the actual shut-down was much longer than that, but they had to wait until Monday morning, when we came back on our regular work day to have us sign the furlough letter and then when all the paperwork was done, they sent us home. There was probably more time spent doing the paperwork and all the red-tape, then we were actually away from work.

Then I spent most of Wednesday catching up on what I missed on Monday and Tuesday and spent most of today (Thursday) putting everything to rights for the rest of the week and next week.

So tomorrow, Friday, things will finally be put back to rights and (at least for me and my office) we’ll be back on track where we need to be.

All for what amounted to 16 work hours.

Ridiculous. 

Okay, I would have questions…

I guess at 67 I’m too young. I had to look it up. It’s an extra low gear for “off road” or super low torque needs. Basically, it’s actually first gear and the others are mislabeled by one down.

Awww … so cute! At that time. Now? Not so much.

Hmmmm … I wonder …

And that’s EXACTLY how the furlough works. This time AND last time. Thanks to brother Wheats for that one!

What a fantastic idea!  The next time I have some down-time …

Abraham Lincoln said watching “Melania” was the worst experience he’s ever had in a theatre. 

That’s an old one, but a good one and it ALWAYS makes me laugh.

Doctor: Eating a lot of cinnamon will help you lose weight.

Me at Dunkin Donuts: I’ll have 12 Cinnamon rolls with extra cinnamon.

My new role model is the old lady I saw at the store. 

She was buying Oreos, Corn Dogs and Vodka. 

Another classic!

My therapist suggested I get an emotional support animal…so I got a chicken. 
Deep fried.
Came with a milkshake.
Feeling better now.

I don’t know how to describe it, but 72 degrees with the heat on and 72 degrees with the A/C on are two totally different temperatures.

I AGREE 100%!!!!

I hate it when I eat the last bite but didn’t notice it was the last bite so I couldn’t mentally prepare myself and get closure.

This time when I was seven I thought that I could talk to trees (because I had no friends), and I used to sit by them and say things and one day I was talking to my tree friend called Kevin and this girl went up to me and said, “Are you talking to that tree, freak!” and I started crying and hugged on to the tree, and while she was laughing one of the branches fell on the girl’s head. Thanks, Kevin.

The coin I carry every day in my pocket. In fact, I carry two of them in case I come across someone in need who I feel like l need to give one to. Then, when I get home, I replace the one I gave away.

And that’s it my friends. I hope you had as much fun as I did. So, until next time…

Well, it’s official, I’m on furlough. (Today’s Monday, by the way) I don’t know for how long. Could be a day, could be a week, could be … yeah, we’re not going there. 

Now, instead of arguing over health care for illegals, they’re arguing over DHS funding, which, in essence, is arguing over the means of getting rid of illegals. Or, in other words, they are arguing over stupidity.

But the one thing that annoys the ever-living-daylights out of me is that they are insisting that ICE agents are not allowed to wear masks. The only reason to do that is so that they can apply facial recognition to track them down, where they live and harass or harm their families.  The only reason they WEAR their masks is to PROTECT their identities and their families. That is just unfair, mean, cruel, and downright evil. It is wrong on so many levels.

But Impish, these protesters aren’t sophisticated enough to have facial ID technology. No, they’re not, but the people and “movements” that are actually behind them are. 

I just had a very long conversation with a certain young dragon that lives in this cavern with me and I hope she sees things a little more clearly on this topic then she did before.

So…onward and upward, my friends …

This is one of my favorite jokes of all time:

A husband shopping center (HusbandMart) has just opened where a woman may go to choose a husband from among many men. 

The store is comprised of six floors, and the men increase in positive attributes as the shopper ascends the flights. 

There is, however, a catch. As you open the door to any floor you may choose a man from that floor, but if you go up a floor, you cannot go back down except to exit the building. 

So a woman goes to the shopping center to find a husband. On the first floor the sign on the door reads: “Floor 1 – These men have jobs.” 

The woman reads the sign and says to herself, “Well, that’s better than my last boyfriend, but I wonder what’s further up?” So up she goes. 

The second floor sign reads: “Floor 2 – These men have jobs and love kids.” 

The woman remarks to herself, “That’s great, but I wonder what’s further up?” And up she goes again. 

The third floor sign reads: “Floor 3 – These men have jobs, love kids and are extremely good looking.” 

“Hmmm, better” she says. “But I wonder what’s upstairs?” 

The fourth floor sign reads: “Floor 4 – These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking and help with the housework.” 

“Wow!” exclaims the woman, “very tempting. BUT, there must be more further up!” And again she heads up another flight. 

The fifth floor sign reads: “Floor 5 – These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong 
romantic streak.”

“Oh, mercy me! But just think… what must be awaiting me further on?” 

So up to the sixth floor she goes.

The sixth floor sign reads: 

“Floor 6 – You are visitor 123,456,789,012,345 to this floor. 
There are no men on this floor. 
This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. 
Thank you for shopping at HusbandMart and have a nice day.”

The 80’s

Many memories.
No evidence.

You know you’re over 40 when you have upstairs ibuprofen and downstairs ibuprofen.

I went for a job interview at UPS. I said, “Sorry I’m late, I went to the wrong address.” and they made me regional manager.

Yeah, just for that.

I just watched a program about beavers.

It was the best dam documentary I have ever seen.

We always wanted to be adults so bad. Now look at us … stressed, broke, tired, and excited when the laundry’s done.

[Spits mouthful of blood onto the floor] You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths.

Dentist: Please stop doing that. There’s literally a sink right next to you.

I just got excited about a new scent of dish soap. Nobody warned me that adulthood was going to be such a non-stop thrill ride.

That’s it my friends. It’s just a little while later from when I started, but still no word on the ending of the furlough (I didn’t think there would be) but for you guys reading this, it’s Saturday … almost a week from now … well, a work week from now … and you will know FAR more than I do right now. Hopefully, I’m back to work again, but some of the articles I’m reading say that this is going to last longer than anticipated.

Thankfully, I anticipated this much better than I did last time and this one is not going to hurt me like the last one did. So don’t worry for me. In fact, I’ll let you know if you need to start worrying for me, how’s that sound?

So, for now, until next time …