tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71562434497162305462024-03-05T00:06:22.043-07:00Humor has ItI get so many jokes in my email inbox...that I thought it would be fun to share some of them with my friends. Please note..SOME JOKES ARE NOT FOR CHILDREN. IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED..PLEASE STOP NOW.Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comBlogger636125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-78847528705173560882016-11-23T14:02:00.000-07:002016-11-23T14:02:01.445-07:00 the difference between potential and realityA teenager comes home from school with a writing assignment. He asks his
father for help. "Dad, can you tell me the difference between potential
and reality?" His father looks up, thoughtfully, and then says, "I'll
display it to you. Go ask your mother if she would sleep with Robert
Redford for a million dollars. Then go ask your sister if she would
sleep with Brad Pitt for a million dollars. Then come back and tell me
what you've learned. "The kid is puzzled, but he decides <span class="text_exposed_show">to
see if he can figure out what his father means. He asks his mother,
"Mom, if someone gave you a million dollars, would you sleep with Robert
Redford?" His mother looks around slyly, and then with a little smile
on her face says, "Don't tell your father, but, yes, I would." Then he
goes to his sisters room and asks her, "Sis, if someone gave you a
million dollars, would you sleep with Brad Pitt?" His sister looks up
and says, "Omigod! Definitely!" The kid goes back to his father and
says, "Dad, I think I've figured it out. Potentially, we are sitting on
two million bucks, but in reality, we are living with a couple of
whores."</span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-17200342792586926822016-11-18T08:58:00.003-07:002016-11-18T08:58:10.398-07:00Want Ad for a Husband<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>A lonely
70-year-old widow decided that it was time to marry again. She put an ad
in the local newspaper that read: "Husband wanted! Must be in my age
group, must not beat me, must not run around on me and must still be
good in bed. All applicants please apply in person."</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The
following day, she heard the doorbell. Much to her dismay, she opened
the door to see a gray-haired gentleman sitting in a wheelchair. He had
no arms or legs.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>"You're not really asking me to consider you, are you?" the widow asked: "Just look at you -- you have no legs!"</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The old gent smiled: "Therefore, I cannot run around on you!"</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>"You don't have any arms either!" she snorted.</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Again, the old man smiled: "Therefore, I can never beat you!"</b></span></div>
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="more"></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>She raised an eyebrow and asked intently: "Are you still good in bed?"</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>The old man leaned back, beamed a big smile and said: "I rang the doorbell, didn't I?"</b></span></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-3820728667466612812016-10-19T21:16:00.002-06:002016-10-19T21:16:35.733-06:00senior love<span style="font-size: large;">After nearly 50 years of marriage, a couple was lying in bed one
evening, when the wife felt her husband, begin to massage her in ways he
hadn't in quite some t<span class="text_exposed_show">ime. It almost
tickled as his fingers started at her neck, and then began moving down
past the small of her back. He then caressed her shoulders and neck,
slowly worked his hand down, stopping just over her stomach. He then
proceeded to place his hand on her left inner arm, working down her
side, passing gently over her buttock and down her leg to her calf.
Then, he proceeded up her thigh, stopping just at the uppermost portion
of her leg. He continued in the same manner on her right side, then
suddenly stopped, rolled over and became silent.</span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="font-size: large;">
As she had become quite aroused by this caressing, she asked in a
loving voice, ‘Honey that was wonderful. Why did you stop?' To which he
responded: 'I found the remote.'...</span></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-3483094466910332902016-08-27T17:47:00.001-06:002016-08-27T17:47:42.907-06:00Some things you just can’t explain<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">A farmer was sitting in the neighborhood bar getting
hammered. A man came in and asked the farmer, “Hey, why are you sitting
here on this beautiful day, getting drunk?”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">The farmer shook his head and replied, “Some things you just can’t explain.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“So what happened that’s so horrible?” the man asked as he sat down next to the farmer.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Well,” the farmer said, “today I was sitting by my cow,
milking her. Just as I got the bucket ’bout full, she lifted her left
leg and kicked over the bucket.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Okay,” said the man, “but that’s not so bad.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Some things you just can’t explain,” the farmer replied.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“So what happened then?” the man asked. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">The farmer said, “I took her left leg and tied it to the post on the left.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“And then?” “Well, I sat back down and continued to milk
her. Just as I got the bucket ’bout full, she took her right leg and
kicked over the bucket.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">Man laughed and said, “Again?”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">The farmer replied, “Some things you just can’t explain.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“So, what did you do then?” the man asked.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I took her right leg this time and tied it to the post on the right.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“And then?” </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Well, I sat back down and began milking her again.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">Just as I got the bucket about full, the stupid cow knocked over the bucket with her tail.”</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Hmmm…” the man said and nodded his head.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Some things you just can’t explain,” the farmer said.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“So, what did you do?” the man asked.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“Well,” the farmer said,</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I didn’t have anymore rope, so I took off my belt and
tied her tail to the rafter. In that moment, my pants fell down and my
wife walked in… Some things you just can’t explain.”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-14038658776569005532016-08-05T22:05:00.000-06:002016-08-05T22:05:26.920-06:00The newspaper and the fly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhrJMfbgF6nxcIlmXR8oAS0bHQ9TwWfqJszA84k9MR79L9bprxfdG-yidFH1HKRUUUyleeoVVZ2oeKYfxOBYjTb58d9C8Tb_NZ6Pgf8GwmgfXFN_EoL5ei5agQ2Y_RJu2jsAi0gB13sk/s1600/12573860_994701297278516_6722701219162593658_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhrJMfbgF6nxcIlmXR8oAS0bHQ9TwWfqJszA84k9MR79L9bprxfdG-yidFH1HKRUUUyleeoVVZ2oeKYfxOBYjTb58d9C8Tb_NZ6Pgf8GwmgfXFN_EoL5ei5agQ2Y_RJu2jsAi0gB13sk/s320/12573860_994701297278516_6722701219162593658_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-64272225004070850192016-07-26T00:04:00.000-06:002016-07-26T00:04:01.901-06:00A blond waitress<br />
A trucker made a stop at an off-the-road café and placed his order.<br />
<br />
“I want three flat tires, a pair of headlights, and a pair of running boards.”<br />
<br />
A blond waitress (it was her first day on the job) didn’t want to
look stupid in front of the customer.<br />
<br />
So she went to the kitchen and
asked the cook, ‘This guy out there just ordered three flat tires, a
pair of headlights and a pair of running boards. What does he think this
place is, an auto parts store?”<br />
<br />
“No,” the cook replied. ‘Three flat tires means three pancakes. A
pair of headlights means two eggs sunny side up. And a pair of running
boards means 2 slices of crisp bacon!”<br />
<br />
“Oh. OK!” said the blonde, relieved to finally understand the code
words. She thought about it for a moment and then spooned up a bowl of
beans and gave it to the customer.<br />
<br />
The trucker asked, “What are the beans for, blondie?”<br />
<br />
She replied, “I thought while you were waiting for the flat tires, headlights and running boards, you might as well gas up! ”Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-2239878667988244572015-09-26T08:30:00.001-06:002015-09-26T08:30:11.663-06:00<a href="https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/11953284_1171425506217201_5896801770427348018_n.jpg?oh=ad2b00ca88e09816f92b5661925b691f&oe=5693C0A6" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="spotlight" height="320" src="https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xfp1/v/t1.0-9/11953284_1171425506217201_5896801770427348018_n.jpg?oh=ad2b00ca88e09816f92b5661925b691f&oe=5693C0A6" width="272" /></a>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-42769670970926190792015-03-26T08:28:00.003-06:002015-03-26T08:28:18.649-06:00<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">While shopping in Target a mother finds her little kid is going through her purse, the kid had taken out her drivers license…</span></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She mildly scolds him for reading it . But the little kid says “but i learned so much about you from it”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The mom says “well, OK Tommy, what did you learn about me”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“well, says Tommy… “i know your age now”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“and what is that?” says his mother</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“you’re old” says the kid</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“and guess what else I learned your height”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“which is?’ says the mom</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “you are really tall” he says</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“well, yes you are right, I am tall for a woman”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“and, i learned your weight” he says</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“and what is that?” asks the mother</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“a lot for a woman your height” the kids says</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">the mother sighs and says “well, that’s not very nice Tommy, but I can’t argue that”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">and then the kid says “I know why dad divorced you”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Huh? WHAT?” says the mother, “how in the world did you get that from a drivers license”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“because, you got an f in sex”</span></span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-73761777086007198262015-02-04T09:12:00.001-07:002015-02-04T09:12:31.029-07:00<div class="">
<span style="font-size: large;">I
went to Home Depot recently while not being altogether sure that course
of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared
and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going
to shit yourself' road-kill chili. Tasty stuff, although hot to the
point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me
that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here's
the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of
coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's
Movement. Despite the chilies swimming their way through my intestinal
tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by
my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Knowing that a time of
reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for
Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck.
Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart
and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't
until I was at the opposite end of the store from the toilets that the
pain hit me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm
talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh Oh, Shit, gotta go' pain that
always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was
different. The chilies from the night before were staging a revolt. In a
mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small
intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I
could take one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring
sweet relief, it happened. The chilies fired a warning shot.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There
I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a
toxic cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was
afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my
body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an orange
aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I
don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction
would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to dissipate.. Have
you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I
mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate. I
could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he
walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so
terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running,
was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though
trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible,
but then made me laugh. .......BIG mistake!!!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here's the thing.
When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know
what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my
nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing
the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly things were no longer
funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the
toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it
before the grand explosion took place.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Luck was on my side. Just
in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God',
floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD,
purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is
the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'.. He made a gagging sound, and
disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-bitch!, did it smell that bad when you ate
it?', then quickly left.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Once finished and I left the restroom,
reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my
shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might
want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set
off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans
on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My
smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape
me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his aprom up to
cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S
YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was
unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not
to return.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Home again without my supplies, I realized that there
was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The
next day I went to shop at Lowe's. I can't say anymore about that
because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're
going to have to repaint the store.</span></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-28433163021356632092015-02-04T08:11:00.002-07:002015-02-04T08:11:31.400-07:00~Little old lady at shopping mall<br /> <span style="font-size: large;">I was shopping at Kroger and
noticed a little old lady following me around. I stopped, she
stopped.Furthermore she kept staring at me.<br /> She finally overtook me
at the checkout, and she turned to me and said, “I hope I haven’t made
you feel ill at ease; it’s just that you look so much like my late son.”<br /> I answered, “That’s okay.”<br /> “I know it’s silly, but if you’d call out “Good bye, Mom” as I leave the store, it would make me feel so happy.”<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> She then went through the checkout, and as she was on her way out of the store, I called out, “Goodbye, Mom.”<br />
The little old lady waved, and smiled back at me. Pleased that I had
brought a little sunshine into someone’s day, I went to pay for my
groceries.<br /> “That comes to $121.85,” said the clerk. “How come so much . I only bought 5 items..”<br /> The clerk replied, “Yeah, but your Mother said you’d be paying for her things too.”<br /> Don’t trust little Old Ladies!!! hee.~</span></span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-81411433067934332782015-01-22T22:39:00.001-07:002015-01-22T22:39:36.727-07:00<span style="font-size: large;">One day little Susie went into her back yard and found her dog Muffles lying dead with its legs up in the air.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> She asked, "Daddy, Daddy, why are Muffles legs in<span class="text_exposed_show"> the air?"</span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Thinking quickly, her dad replied, "This way Jesus can come down and take Muffles to heaven easier."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The next day when Susie's dad came home, she ran up to him and said, "Daddy, Daddy, Mommy almost died today."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Flustered, her father said, "Honey, what happened?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
"Well, Mommy's legs were up in the air and she was screaming 'Oh Jesus,
I'm coming, I'm coming' and if it wasn't for the milkman holding her
down she would have been a gonner."</span></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-21872081760602286892015-01-20T23:00:00.002-07:002015-01-20T23:00:17.930-07:00<span style="font-size: large;">A farmer named Clyde had a tractor accident. In court, the trucking
company's fancy hot shot lawyer, was questioning Clyde. "Didn't you say,
at the scene of the<span class="text_exposed_show"> accident, 'I'm fine,'?" asked the lawyer. </span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Clyde responded, "Well, I'll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite cow, Bessie, into the..." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
"I didn't ask for any details", the lawyer interrupted. "Just answer
the question, ...please. Did you, or did you not say, at the scene of
the accident, 'I'm fine!'?" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Clyde said, "Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer behind the tractor and I was driving down the road...." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
The lawyer interrupted again and said, "Your Honor, I am trying to
establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the
Highway Patrolman on the scene that he was just fine. Now several weeks
after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a
fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> By this
time, the Judge was fairly interested in Clyde's answer and said to the
lawyer, "I'd like to hear what he has to say about his favorite cow,
Bessie". </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Clyde thanked the Judge and proceeded. "Well, as I was
saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite cow, into the trailer and
was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer
ran the stop sign and smacked my John Deer Tractor right in the side. I
was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was
hurting, real bad and didn't want to move. However, I could hear old
Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by
her groans.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Shortly after the accident a Highway Patrolman came
on the scene. He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning, so he went over
to her. After he looked at her, and saw her fatal condition, he took
out his gun and shot her between the eyes. Then the Patrolman came
across the road, gun still in hand, looked at me, and said, "How are you
feeling?" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> "Now tell me, what the heck would you say?"</span></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-79785511486508812452015-01-04T14:21:00.000-07:002015-01-04T14:21:00.605-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEKadLrHM2Fco3DT5J1Q3jQiIskHLADe5cZ9OXqfP3X3hsdHbP-B9EZejS8AikazGREPD_C2ITCLkynhRhUi7URFwhiE91UNLHn_zOghCJu2h9PybEYMr_bwvfwvrvcI5CrMI2d7xw6M/s1600/a_1176_20150102142013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEKadLrHM2Fco3DT5J1Q3jQiIskHLADe5cZ9OXqfP3X3hsdHbP-B9EZejS8AikazGREPD_C2ITCLkynhRhUi7URFwhiE91UNLHn_zOghCJu2h9PybEYMr_bwvfwvrvcI5CrMI2d7xw6M/s1600/a_1176_20150102142013.jpg" height="640" width="274" /></a></div>
<br />Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-8542938309265360132014-12-11T14:58:00.002-07:002014-12-11T14:58:28.998-07:00<div data-ft="{"tn":"L"}">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="caption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_548a1329728c15555364175">
Naked Cowboy <br /> A Sheriff in a small town in Texas walks out in the street and s<span class="text_exposed_show">ees
a blond haired cowboy coming toward him with nothing on but his cowboy
hat, his gun and his boots. He arrests him for indecent exposure.<br /> As he is locking him up, he asks 'Why in the world are you walking around like this?'<br /> The cowboy says, 'Well it's like this Sheriff ...... <br /> <br /> I was in this bar down the road and this pretty little red head asks me to go out to her motor home with her. So I did. <br /> <br /> We go inside and she pulls off her top and asks me to pull off my shirt... So I did.<br /> <br /> Then she pulls off her skirt and asks me to pull off my pants.... So I did. <br /> <br /> Then she pulls off her panties and asks me to pull off my shorts...so I did. <br /> <br /> Then she gets on the bed and looks at me kind of sexy and says, 'Now go to town, cowboy.. ' <br /> 'And here I am.' <br /> <br /> Son of a Gun. Blonde Men do exist!!!!</span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_548a1329728c15555364175">
<span class="text_exposed_show"> </span></div>
</span></span></div>
<div class="mts uiAttachmentDesc translationEligibleUserAttachmentMessage" data-ft="{"tn":"M"}">
<div>
<div class="fsm fwn fcg">
<span style="font-size: small;">By: <span class="uiAttachmentDetails" data-ft="{"type":12,"tn":"H"}">The Roving Wino</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-508853217615142552014-11-22T22:05:00.001-07:002014-11-22T22:05:19.841-07:00<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A newlywed couple had only been married for two weeks. The
husband,although very much in love, couldn't wait to go out on the town
and party with his old buddies. So, he said to his new wife, "Honey,
I'll be right back."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "Where are you going, coochy cooh?" asked the wife. "I'm going to the bar, pretty face. I'm going to have a beer."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
The wife said, "You want a beer, my love?" She opened the door to the
refrigerator and showed him 25 different kinds of beer, brands from 12
dif<span class="text_exposed_show">ferent countries: Germany, Holland, Japan, India, Etc.</span></span></span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
The husband didn't know what to do, and the only thing that he could
think of saying was, "Yes, lolly pop...but at the bar...you know...they
have frozen glasses..."<br /> He didn't get to finish the sentence, because the wife interrupted him by saying, "You want a frozen glass, puppy face? "</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> She took a huge beer mug out of the freezer, so frozen that she was getting chills just holding it.<br />
The husband, looking a bit pale, said, "Yes, tootsie roll, but at the
bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious... I won't
be long I'll be right back. I promise.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> OK?" "You want hors
d'oeuvres, poochi pooh?" She opened the oven and took out 5 dishes of
different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in blankets, mushroom
caps, pork strips, etc.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "But my sweet honey... at the bar... you know... there's swearing, dirty words and all that..."<br /> "You want dirty words, cutie pie?...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "LISTEN UP SHIT HEAD! DRINK YOUR FUCKING BEER IN YOUR DAMNED FROZEN MUG AND EAT YOUR<br /> MOTHERFUCKING SNACKS, BECAUSE YOU AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE!<br /> GOT IT, ASSHOLE?"</span></span></div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-35768181610248696532014-11-03T22:54:00.002-07:002014-11-03T22:54:58.199-07:00<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">An 86 year old man walked into a crowded waiting room and approached the desk....<br /> <br /> The Receptionist said, "Yes sir, what are you seeing the Doctor for today??"<br /> <br /> "There's something wrong with my dick", he replied.<br /> <br /> The Receptionist became irritated and said, "You shouldn't come into a crowded waiting room and say things like that."<br /> <br /> Why not? You asked me what was wrong and I told you," he said.<br /> <span class="text_exposed_show"><br />
The Receptionist replied; "Now you've caused some embarrassment in this
room full of people. You should have said there is something wrong with
your ear or something and discussed the problem further with the Doctor
in private."<br /> <br /> The man replied, "You shouldn't ask people questions in a room full strangers, if the answer could embarrass anyone."<br /> <br /> The man walked out, waited several minutes and then re-entered.<br /> <br /> The Receptionist smiled smugly and asked, "Yes??"<br /> <br /> There's something wrong with my ear," he stated.<br /> <br /> The Receptionist nodded approvingly and smiled, knowing he had taken her advice. "And what is wrong with your ear, Sir??"<br /> <br /> "I can't piss out of it," he replied.</span></span></span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-4189091249722597992014-10-18T11:55:00.001-06:002014-10-18T11:56:15.378-06:00<span style="font-size: large;">A Polish man moved to the USA and married an American girl.<br /> Although
his English was far from perfect, they got along very well until one
day he rushed into a lawyer's office and asked him if he could arrange a
divorce for him.<br /> The lawyer said that getting a divorce could depend on the circumstances, and asked him<br /> the following questions:<br /> "Have you any grounds"?<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> "Yes, an acre and half and nice little home".<br /> "No, I meant what is the foundation of this case"?<br /> It's made of concrete<br /> "I don't think you understand. Does either of you have a real grudge"?<br /> "No, we have carport, and not need one".<br /> I mean, what are your relations like?<br /> "All my relations still in Poland".<br /> "Is there any infidelity in your marriage"?<br /> "We have hi-fidelity stereo and good DVD player".<br /> "Does your wife beat you up"?<br /> "No, I always up before her".<br /> "Is your wife a nagger"?<br /> "No, she white".<br /> "Why do you want this divorce"?<br /> "She going to kill me".<br /> "What makes you think that"?<br /> "I got proof".<br /> "What kind of proof"?<br /> "She going to poison me.<br /> She buy a bottle at drugstore and put on shelf in bathroom. I can read, and it say: "Polish Remover"</span></span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-50145526787692021132014-09-21T07:29:00.001-06:002014-09-21T07:29:38.855-06:00<span style="font-size: large;">Two guys meet up in a bar. The first one asks, "Did your hear the news - Mike is dead??!!!"<br /> "Woah, what the hell happened to him?"<br />
"Well he was on his way over to my house the other day and when he
arrived outside the house he didn't brake properly and boom - He hit the
curb, the car flipped over and he crashed through the sunroof - Went
flying through the air and smashed through my upstairs bedroom window."<br /> "What a horrible way to die!"<br /> "No no, he survived that, that didn't <span class="text_exposed_show">kill
him at all. So, he's landed in my upstairs bedroom and he's all covered
in broken glass on the floor. Then, he spots the big old antique
wardrobe we have in the room and reaches up for the handle to try to
pull himself up. He's just dragging himself up when bang, this massive
wardrobe comes crashing down on top of him, crushing him and breaking
most of his bones."<br /> "What a way to go, that's terrible!"<br /> "No no,
that didn't kill him he survived that. He managed to get the wardrobe
off him and crawls out onto the landing, he tries to pull himself up on
the banister but under his weight, the banister breaks and he goes
falling down on to the first floor. In mid air, all the broken banister
poles spin and fall on him, pinning him to the floor, sticking right
through him."<br /> "Now that is the most unfortunate way to go!"<br /> "No
no, that didn't kill him, he even survived that. So he's on the
downstairs landing, just beside the kitchen. He crawls in to the
kitchen, tries to pull himself up on the stove, but reached for a big
pot of boiling hot water, whoosh, the whole thing came down on him and
burned most of his skin off him."<br /> "Man, what a way to go!"<br /> "No
no, he survived that, he survived that! He's lying on the ground,
covered in boiling water and he spots the phone and tries to pull
himself up, to call for help, but instead he grabs the light switch and
pulls the whole thing off the wall and the water and electricity didn't
mix and so he got electrocuted, wallop, 10,000 volts shot through him."<br /> "Now that is one awful way to go!"<br /> "No no, he survived that..."<br /> "Hold on now, just how the hell did he die?"<br /> "I shot him!"<br /> "You shot him? What the hell did you shoot him for?"<br /> "coz the b*****d was wrecking the place"</span></span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-32362854993634059582014-09-17T03:48:00.001-06:002014-09-17T03:48:11.644-06:00JOKE of the DAY<br /> A cowboy walks into a bar, and two steps in he realizes it’s a gay bar.<br /> “What the heck,” he says to himself, “I really want a drink.” When the g<span class="text_exposed_show">ay
waiter approaches, he says to the cowboy, “What’s the name of your
willy?” The cowboy says, “Look, I’m not into any of that. All I want is a
drink.<br /> “The gay waiter says, “I’m sorry but I can’t serve you until
you tell me the name of your willy. Mine for instance is called NIKE,
for the slogan, ‘Just Do It.’ that guy down at the end of the bar calls
his SNICKERS, because ‘It really Satisfies.’ “The cowboy looks
dumbfounded, so the bartender tells him he will give him a second to
think it over.<br /> So the cowboy asks the man sitting to his left who is
sipping on a beer, “Hey bud, what’s the name of yours?” The man looks
back and says with a smile, “TIMEX.” The thirsty cowboy asks, “Why
Timex?” the fella proudly replies, “‘Cause it takes a lickin’ and keeps
on tickin!’”<br /> A little shaken, the cowboy turns to the two fella’s on
his right who just happens to be sharing a fruity Margarita and says,
“So, what do you guys call yours?” The first man turns to him and
proudly exclaims, “FORD, because Quality is Job One.” “Then he adds,
“Have you driven a Ford lately?” The guy next to him then says, “I call
mine CHEVY…..’Like a Rock!’ “And gives a wink!<br /> Even more shaken, the
Cowboy has to think for a moment before he comes up with a name for his
manhood. Finally, he turns to the bartender and exclaims, “The name of
my willy is SECRET. Now give me a beer.” The bartender begins to pour
the cowboy a beer, but with a puzzled look asks, “Why Secret?”<br /> The cowboy says, “Because it’s ‘STRONG ENOUGH FOR A MAN, BUT MADE FOR A WOMAN!’</span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-51944281312308923052014-09-08T07:48:00.002-06:002014-09-08T07:48:37.117-06:00car shopping<span style="font-size: large;">A lady walks into a Lexus dealership. She browses around, then spots <br /> the perfect car and walks over to inspect it. As she bends to feel the <br /> fine leather upholstery, a loud fart escapes her. <br /> Very embarrassed, she looks around nervously to see if anyone has <br /> noticed her little accident and hopes a sales person doesn't pop up <br /> right now. <br /> As she turns back, there standing next to her, is a salesman. "Good <br /> day, Madame. How may we help you today?" <br /> Very uncomfortably she asks, "Sir, what is the price of this lovely <br /> vehicle?" <br /> He answers, "Madame, if you farted just touching it, you are going to <br /> shit when you hear the price."</span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-73306207844283990562014-06-14T09:48:00.001-06:002014-06-14T09:49:08.665-06:00sneaky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDp3WTWReEfk4nXRtudQv5CHebXRiq7GPT7tdHPOb-xWFul65adzYPaD1O1u1lNrjz77ehevxsklZPj5aYcU_0oodPVQ0RClbI9EIZ_ETfMCSnFVZjsG-_off1fMSQkd5HRI6R1Y8FzmM/s1600/407417_514447325244998_1536921294_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDp3WTWReEfk4nXRtudQv5CHebXRiq7GPT7tdHPOb-xWFul65adzYPaD1O1u1lNrjz77ehevxsklZPj5aYcU_0oodPVQ0RClbI9EIZ_ETfMCSnFVZjsG-_off1fMSQkd5HRI6R1Y8FzmM/s1600/407417_514447325244998_1536921294_n.jpg" height="400" width="272" /></a></div>
<br />Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-89167308339122549102014-06-03T12:35:00.001-06:002014-06-03T12:35:36.432-06:00Jesuis is Watching You A burglar broke into a house one night. He shined his flashlight
around, looking for valuables when a voice in the dark said, 'Jesus
knows you'r<span class="text_exposed_show">e here.'</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight off, and
froze. When he heard nothing more, he shook his head and continued.<br />
Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, clear as a bell he heard 'Jesus is watching you.'<br />
Startled, he shined his light around frantically, looking for the
source of the voice. Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight
beam came to rest on a parrot.<br />
'Did you say that?' he hissed at the parrot.<br />
'Yes', the parrot confessed, then squawked, 'I'm just trying to warn you that he's watching you.'<br />
The burglar relaxed. 'Warn me, huh? Who in the world are you?'<br />
'Moses,' replied the bird.<br />
'Moses?' the burglar laughed. 'What kind of people would name a bird Moses?'<br />
'The kind of people who would name a Rottweiler Jesus.'</div>
Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-90866141079920772014-05-31T10:30:00.001-06:002014-05-31T10:30:46.075-06:00The Bagpiper As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral
director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no
family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s cemetery in
the back country. As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost
and, being a typical man, I didn’t stop for directions.<br />
I finally
arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the
hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left
and they were eating lunch.<br />
I felt badly and apologized to the
men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and
the vault lid was already in place. I didn’t know what else to do, so I
started to play.<br />
The workers put down their lunches and began to
gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no
family and friends. I played like I’ve never played before for this
homeless man.<br />
And as I played ‘Amazing Grace,’ the workers began
to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I
packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head hung low,
my heart was full.<br />
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of
the workers say, “I never seen nothin’ like that before and I’ve been
putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”<br />
Apparently, I’m still lost… It’s a man thing.Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-6283201216850085592014-03-02T14:22:00.002-07:002014-03-02T14:22:15.192-07:00wish I had know this!<div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">1.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>HOW
DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY? (written by kids)</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>You
got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like
sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep
the chips and dip coming.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Alan, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>No
person really decides before they grow up who they're going to
marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later
who you're stuck with.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Kristen, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">2.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHAT
IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Twenty-three
is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by
then.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Camille, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><u><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">3.</span></u><b><u><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">
HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE
MARRIED?</span></u></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>You
might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the
same kids.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Derrick, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">4.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHAT
DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Both
don't want any more kids.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Lori, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">5.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHAT
DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Dates
are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each
other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long
enough.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Lynnette, age 8 </span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">(isn't
she a treasure)</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>On
the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets
them interested enough to go for a second
date.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Martin, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">6.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHEN
IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>When
they're rich.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Pam, age 7</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>The
law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with
that.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Curt, age 7</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>The
rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them
and have kids with them. It's the right thing to
do.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Howard, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">7.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>IS
IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>It's
better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to
clean up after them.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Anita, age 9</span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">
(bless you child )</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">8.</span><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>HOW
WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET
MARRIED?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>There
sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't
there?</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Kelvin, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /></span><b><u><span style="color: #009f82; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">And
the #1 Favorite is...</span></u></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">9.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>HOW
WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Tell
your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a dump
truck.</b></span><b><span style="color: #ff2600; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Ricky, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;">
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7156243449716230546" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7156243449716230546" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7156243449716230546" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7156243449716230546" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">1.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>HOW
DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY? (written by kids)</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>You
got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like
sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep
the chips and dip coming.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Alan, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>No
person really decides before they grow up who they're going to
marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later
who you're stuck with.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Kristen, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">2.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHAT
IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Twenty-three
is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by
then.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Camille, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><u><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">3.</span></u><b><u><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">
HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE
MARRIED?</span></u></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>You
might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the
same kids.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Derrick, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">4.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHAT
DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Both
don't want any more kids.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Lori, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">5.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHAT
DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Dates
are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each
other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long
enough.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Lynnette, age 8 </span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">(isn't
she a treasure)</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>On
the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets
them interested enough to go for a second
date.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Martin, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">6.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>WHEN
IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>When
they're rich.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Pam, age 7</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>The
law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with
that.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Curt, age 7</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /><b>The
rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them
and have kids with them. It's the right thing to
do.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Howard, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">7.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>IS
IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>It's
better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to
clean up after them.</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Anita, age 9</span></b><b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">
(bless you child )</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">8.</span><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>HOW
WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET
MARRIED?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>There
sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't
there?</b></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Kelvin, age 8</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /></span><b><u><span style="color: #009f82; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">And
the #1 Favorite is...</span></u></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">9.</span></b><b><span style="color: navy; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"> <u>HOW
WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?</u></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;"><br /><b>Tell
your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a dump
truck.</b></span><b><span style="color: #ff2600; font-family: 'Arial','sans-serif'; font-size: 24pt;">--
Ricky, age 10</span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Calibri','sans-serif'; font-size: 10pt;">
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Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7156243449716230546.post-20972679138033434292014-02-24T16:51:00.000-07:002014-02-24T16:51:00.084-07:00<span style="font-size: large;">A very faithful woman . . .
An elderly lady was well-known for her faith and for her boldness in talking about it. She would stand on her front porch and shout "PRAISE THE LORD!"
Next door to her lived an atheist who would get so angry at her proclamations he would shout, "There ain't no Lord!!"
Hard times set in on the elderly lady, and she prayed for GOD to send her some assistance. She stood on her porch and shouted "PRAISE THE LORD. GOD I NEED FOOD!! I AM HAVING A HARD TIME. PLEASE LORD, SEND ME SOME GROCERIES!!"
The next morning the lady went out on her porch and noted a large bag of groceries and shouted, "PRAISE THE LORD."
The neighbor jumped from behind a bush and said, "Aha! I told you there was no Lord. I bought those groceries, God didn't."
The lady started jumping up and down and clapping her hands and said, "PRAISE THE LORD. He not only sent me groceries, but He made the devil pay for them. Praise the Lord!"</span>Tootsiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02313167135644565141noreply@blogger.com