What I Want In A Man!

Original List:
1. Handsome
2.. Charming
3. Financially successful
4. A caring listener
5. Witty
6. In good shape
7. Dresses with style
8. Appreciates finer things
9. Full of thoughtful surprises
10. An imaginative, romantic lover

What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 32)
1. Nice looking
2. Opens car doors, holds chairs
3. Has enough money for a nice dinner
4. Listens more than talks
5. Laughs at my jokes
6. Carries bags of groceries with ease
7. Owns at least one tie
8. Appreciates a good home-cooked meal
9. Remembers birthdays and anniversaries
10. Seeks romance at least once a week

What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 42)
1. Not too ugly
2. Doesn't drive off until I'm in the car…J
3. Works steady - splurges on dinner out occasionally
4. Nods head when I'm talking
5. Usually remembers punch lines of jokes
6. Is in good enough shape to rearrange the furniture
7. Wears a shirt that covers his stomach
8. Knows not to buy champagne with screw-top lids
9. Remembers to put the toilet seat down
10. Shaves most weekends

What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 52)
1. Keeps hair in nose and ears trimmed
2. Doesn't belch or scratch in public
3. Doesn't borrow money too often
4. Doesn't nod off to sleep when I'm venting
5. Doesn't retell the same joke too many times
6. Is in good enough shape to get off couch on weekends
7. Usually wears matching socks and fresh underwear
8. Appreciates a good TV dinner
9. Remembers your name on occasion
10. Shaves some weekends

What I Want in a Man, Revised List (age 62)
1. Doesn't scare small children
2. Remembers where bathroom is
3. Doesn't require much money for upkeep
4. Only snores lightly when asleep
5. Remembers why he's laughing
6. Is in good enough shape to stand up by himself
7. Usually wears some clothes
8. Likes soft foods
9. Remembers where he left his teeth
10. Remembers that it's the weekend

What I Want in a Man , Revised List (age 72)
1. Breathing
2. Doesn't miss the toilet..

Obama Float

I found this picture online, and the question was....

What is she hanging on to?

Answer: His stimulus package.

How Many Slaves Do You Own?

Fred Reed was a police reporter for one of the large Washington newspapers
He now writes a column which can be googled ~ "Fred on Everything."

Fred published a weekly online column in which he got to say the things his
editors would never, ever have let him write in the paper. His stuff is
iconoclastic and various articles have probably offended everyone..
regardless of political orientation. So, with the warning that "This is
definitely not politically correct," here comes Fred.....

The following is an essay regarding the failings of a system and a culture.
Please note that he elegantly describes the mood of many Americans and he
does so without prejudice.

Slavery Reparations ..........by Fred Reed!

On the Web I find that Henry Louis Gates Jr., the chairman of Afro-American
Studies at Harvard, is demanding that whites pay reparations to blacks. It's
because of slavery, see. He is joined in this endeavor by a gaggle of other
professional blacks. I guess he'll send me a bill, huh?

I feel like saying, "Let me get this straight, Hank. I'm slow. Be patient.
You want free money because of slavery, right? I don't blame you." I'd like
free money too. Tell you what. I believe in justice. I'll give you a million
dollars for every slave I own, and another million for every year you were a
slave. Fair enough? But tell me, how many slaves do you suppose I have? In
round numbers, I mean...say to the nearest dozen. And how long were you a
slave?
Oh. In other words, I owe you reparations for something that I didn't do and
didn't happen to you. That makes sense. Like lug nuts on a birthday cake.

Personally, I think you owe me reparations for things you didn't do and
never happened to me. I've never been coated in Dutch chocolate and thrown
from the Eiffel Tower . I'll bet you've never done it to anyone. I want
reparations. Kind of silly, isn't it?

But if we're going to talk about reparations, that's a street that runs in
two directions. You want money from me for what some other whites did to
some other blacks in another century?

How about you guys paying whites reparations for current expenses caused by
blacks? Not long ago blacks burned down half of Los Angeles , a city in my
country. Cities are expensive, Hank. Build one sometime and you'll see what
I mean. Whites had to pay taxes to repair Los Angeles for you. You can send
me a check.

Now, yes, I know you burned LA because you didn't like the verdict in the
trial of those police officers. Well, I didn't like the verdict in the
Simpson trial. But I didn't burn my house and loot Korean grocers, or burn
down a city.

Over the years blacks have burned a lot of American cities: Newark , Detroit
, Watts , on and on. Now add in the fantastic cost over the years of welfare
in all its forms, the cost of all of those police calls people had to make,
for cells and jails and security systems in department stores.

I can't live in the capital city of my own country because of crime
committed by blacks. Toss in the cultural cost of lowering standards in
everything for the benefit of blacks. See what I mean?

Now, I'd view things differently if you said to me, "Fred, blacks can't get
anywhere in a modern country without education. We know that. We need better
schools, smarter teachers, harder courses, books with smaller pictures and
bigger words. Can you help us?"

I'd say, "Hallelujah! Hoo-ahh! Not just yes, but hell yes. Let's sell an
aircraft carrier and get these folks some real schools and get them into the
economic main-stream." I'd say it partly because it would be the right thing
to do, and partly, because I'd like to add you guys to the tax base.

The current custodial state is expensive. I'd just love for blacks to study
and learn to compete and stop burning places. But is it going to happen? You
may not believe it, but I, and most whites, don't like seeing blacks as
miserable and screwed up as they are.

I spend a fair amount of time in the projects. Those places are ugly. It's
no fun watching perfectly good kids turn into semi-literate dope dealers who
barely speak English. It just plain ain't right. But, Hank, what am I
supposed to do about it? I can't do your children's homework. At some point,
people have to do things for themselves, or they don't get done. Maybe it's
time.

I'll tell you what I see out in the world, Hank... I think blacks are too
accustomed to getting anything they want by just demanding it. True, it has
worked for over half a century. Get a few hundred people in the street,
implicitly threaten to loot and burn, holler about slavery, and sadly, the
Great White Cash Spigot turns on.

Thing is, whites don't much buy it any longer. Most recognize that what once
was a civil-rights movement has become a shakedown game. Few people still
feel responsible for the failings and inadequacies of blacks. Political
correctness keeps the lid on -- but everyone knows the score. Which scares
me, Hank.

On one hand, blacks hate whites and incline toward looting and burning. (The
whites you hate are the ones who marched in the civil-rights movement. Ever
think about that?)

On the other hand, whites quietly grow wearier and wearier of it. Not good
Hank.

On the third hand (allow me three hands, for rhetorical convenience), blacks
keep demanding things. As I write, you demand reparations for slavery.
Blacks in Oklahoma (I think it was) want money for some ancient race riot.
Other blacks reject the Declaration of Independence , blacks in New York
hint broadly at burning and looting over a trial, yet more demand the
elimination of the Confederate flag, and the federal equal opportunity
apparatus, which means blacks, want to sue Silicon Valley for not hiring
nonexistent black engineers. That's a lot of demanding for one month, Hank.
What happens if whites ever say, "No"?
Now, how about you? You've got a cushy job up there at Harvard, and you can
hoot and holler about what swine and bandits whites are. I guess it's lots
of fun, and you get a salary for it to boot. But don't you think you might
do blacks more good if you told them to complain less and study more?
For example, if you want blacks to work in Silicon Gulch, the best approach
might be to find some really smart black guys, and get them to study digital
design ~ not Black Studies (as you teach).
Anyway, Hank, that's how everybody else does it and it works. Then blacks wouldn't
feel left out, and racial tensions would decline. Sound like a plan?
Just out of curiosity, how many hours a week do professors of Afro-American
Studies spend in the projects, encouraging poor black kids to study real
life sho-nuf subjects? And just what kind of a real job can you get with a degree in
Afro-American Studies.

THE SPOILED UNDER-30 CROWD!!!

If you are 30 or older you will think this is hilarious!!!!

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

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

But now that . . . I'm over the ripe old age of thirty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth of today.

You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!

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

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

There was no email!! We had to actually write somebody a letter - with a pen!

Then you had to walk all the way across the street and put it in the mailbox, and it would take like a week to get there! Stamps were 10 cents!

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

There were no MP3' s or Napsters! If you wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike to the damn record store and shoplift it yourself!

Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off the radio, and the DJ would usually talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up! There were no CD players! We had tape decks in our car. We'd play our favorite tape and "eject" it when finished, and the tape would come undone.. Cause - that's how we rolled, dig?

We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you were on the phone and somebody else called, they got a busy signal, that's it!

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

And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was! It could be your school, your mom, your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, a collections agent, you just didn't know!!! You had to pick it up and take your chances, mister!

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

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

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

And we didn't have microwaves. If we wanted to heat something up, we had to use the stove! Imagine that!

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

Regards,
The Over 30 Crowd

Profound

"You cannot legislate the poor into prosperity by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity. What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving. The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else. When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them, and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that my dear friend, is the beginning of the end of any nation. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it."
* Adrian Rogers, 1931*

PARENT - Job Description

PARENT - Job Description

If it had been presented this way, I don't believe any of us would have done it!!!!

POSITION : Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop

JOB DESCRIPTION : Long term, team players needed, for challenging, permanent work in an often chaotic environment. Candidates must possess excellent communication and organizational skills and be willing to work variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends and frequent 24 hour shifts on call. Some overnight travel required, including trips to primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities! Travel expenses not reimbursed. Extensive courier duties also required.

RESPONSIBILITIES : The rest of your life. Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily, until someone needs $5. Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly. Also, must possess the physical stamina of a pack mule and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat in case, this time, the screams from the backyard are not someone just crying wolf. Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges, such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets and stuck zippers. Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and coordinate production of multiple homework projects. Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings for clients of all ages and mental outlooks. Must be a willing to be indispensable one minute, an embarrassment the next. Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices. Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. Must assume final, complete accountability forthe quality of the end product. Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and janitorial work throughout the facility.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION : None. Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills, so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE : None required unfortunately. On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

WAGES AND COMPENSATION : Get this! You pay them! Offering frequent raises and bonuses. A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because of the assumption that college will help them become financially independent. When you die, you give them whatever is left. The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.

BENEFITS : While no health or dental insurance, no pension, no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and no stock options are offered; this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth, unconditional love, and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right.

Twas the month before Christmas

Twas the month before Christmas*
*When all through our land,*
*Not a Christian was praying*
*Nor taking a stand.*
*See the PC Police had taken away,*
*The reason for Christmas - no one could say.*
*The children were told by their schools not to sing,*
*About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things.*
*It might hurt people's feelings, the teachers would say*
* December 25th is just a ' Holiday '.*
*Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit*
*Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!*
*CDs from Madonna, an X BOX, an I-pod*
*Something was changing, something quite odd! *
*Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa*
*In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.*
*As Targets were hanging their trees upside down*
* At Lowe's the word Christmas - was no where to be found.*
*At K-Mart and Staples and Penny's and Sears*
*You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.*
*Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty*
*Are words that were used to intimidate me.*
*Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen*
*On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton !*
*At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter*
*To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.*
*And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith*
* Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace*
*The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded*
*The reason for the season, stopped before it started.*
*So as you celebrate 'Winter Break' under your 'Dream Treee'*
*Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.*
*Choose your words carefully, choose what you say*
*Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS ,
not Happy Holiday !*
Please, all Christians join together and
wish everyone you meet during the
holidays a
MERRY CHRISTMAS Christ is The Reason for the Christ-mas Season!

Missing Bike

H1N1 PROTECTION

H1N1 PROTECTION - INFORMATIVE BULLETIN -
In case of masks shortage for the H1N1, you can make yourself a mask for protection.

The mask is even compatible with regular glasses,and sunglasses for the outdoor minded.
*Important recommendation:(It Is Preferable To Use Materials That Are New) See The Attached Photo Diagram For Simple Design Recommendation.

An Excellent Read

I arrived at the address where someone had requested a taxi. I honked but no one came out. I honked again, nothing. So I walked to the door and knocked. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. 'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated'.. 'Oh, you're such a good boy', she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?' 'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly. 'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice'. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued. 'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. 'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now' We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. 'How much do I owe you?' she asked, reaching into her purse. 'Nothing,' I said 'You have to make a living,' she answered. 'There are other passengers,' I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.' I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send this to ten people. But, you might help make the world a little kinder and more compassionate by sending it on. Thank you, my friend...
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance

He Said To Me..

He said to me . . . I don't know why you wear a bra; you've got nothing to put in it I said to him . . . You wear pants don't you?

He said to me . . ...... Shall we try swapping positions tonight? I said . That's a good idea - you stand by the ironing board while I sit on the sofa and fart!

He said to me. ... What have you been doing with all the grocery money I gave you?I said to him . .....Turn sideways and look in the mirror!

He said to me. ....... Why don't women blink during foreplay?I said to him .. . They don't have time

He said to me. . How many men does it take to change a roll of toilet paper?I said to him .. . I don't know; it has never happened.

He said to me. . Why is it difficult to find men who are sensitive, caring and Good- looking?I said to him . . . They already have boyfriends.

He said...What do you call a woman who knows where her husband is every night?I said. . . A widow.

He said to me . .. . Why are marriedwomen heavier than single women?I said to him . . . Single women come home, see what's in the fridge and go to bed. Married women come home, see what's in bed and go to the fridge.

Christmas Lights... it's a joke people

I have received multiple emails with pictures of Christmas lights that were strung funny... here are a few..

Over achiever!
Christmas lights hung with care...

And again.. hung with care. Apparently after multiple 911 calls they took the "guy" down.

Redneck Santa!

Enough said..

Angel In A Box- Just for you!

This was a great email I got this week:

I know you may not care for these too much, but you should read this.

It will only take a minute.

Angel in a Box

Heaven has sent you an angel in a box.

Heaven didn't want him, so they sent him to me.I sure as hell don't want him,

so I'm sending him to you.

The rules are simple. You can send him away, but you can't send him back.