Tuesday Tickles: Because we’re all going to need a laugh today.

Today is a pretty heavy day. This election will determine greatly the direction our country is going to take. There is good and bad on both sides. And there’s no formula to figure out who’s voting for who. I have wonderful Christian friends who are voting Obama. I have wonderful non-Christian friends who are voting Romney. Religion, race, social status, gender…no stereotypes quite fit for this race. And that is rather a good thing.

No matter what, what’s to be done will be done. No amount of anger, bitterness, or hatefulness is going to change it. So please…don’t risk losing relationships because “your guy” didn’t win. It’s not worth it. The beauty of this country is our freedom to vote our conscious without fear of judgment. At least that’s how it’s supposed to be. Don’t be the one to ruin that freedom.

Because of the events of today, I felt we were all going to need a good laugh. And that is what I have found for you. When you start to get stressed out, worried, or fearful today, hit play on this video and forget about your woes for at least three minutes.

Ladies and gentleman, I give you…CATS!!

Tuesday Tickles: Stories to Make You Giggle

**I do NOT condone anyone trying these, but oh, my word, HILAIROUS!! My apologies to any police officers that come across this, lol!!**

Pub Stakeout

The policeman had the bar under surveillance a few minutes before closing time, so he could see who comes out drunk.

The first one out the door at 2:00am weaved down the sidewalk, then fell on the curb. Sluggishly got up, then tried his keys in five cars before finding his own car.

Once inside his car, he fumbled with his keys for 2 or 3 minutes.

Meanwhile, all the club patrons had gotten into their cars and driven away, leaving this one fellow quite alone in the parking lot.

Finally, he got his car started and began to very slowly drive away.

Immediately, the police car was behind him with lights flashing.

The policeman asked the man to take a breathalyser test, to which he readily agreed.

When the reading was 0.0%, the policeman said, “How can this be?”
To which the man replied, “Because tonight, I’m the designated decoy.”

——————————————–

Entrepreneurs – The Childhood Years

A police officer found a perfect hiding place for watching for speeding motorists.

One day, the officer was amazed when everyone was under the speed limit, so he investigated and found the problem.

A 10 year old boy was standing on the side of the road with a huge hand painted sign which said “Radar Trap Ahead.”

A little more investigative work led the officer to the boy’s accomplice: another boy about 100 yards beyond the radar trap with a sign reading “TIPS” and a bucket at his feet full of change.

Tuesday Tickles: The Salesman

Hahahahaha!! Ok, I know this poem may not be “politically correct”, but oh, my WORD did I laugh out loud when I got to the end! I hope you do, too. Enjoy!

The Salesman – Donna Word Chappell

Luke was a hippy, weird and wild;
A real, true, genuine flower child.
Homer Brown had a happy life,
A men’s clothing store, two kids, and a wife.

Homer put a sign in his window one day
Saying “Salesman Wanted, Right Away.”
Luke walked by and viewed the sign
As a way to make money without half tryin’.

Homer was speechless when Luke the slob
Said, “Hey! You need a salesman, and I need a job!”
When his voice returned he asked Luke real slow,
“Do you really think you can sell men’s clothes?”

Luke said, “Sure, Man! This I know,
I could sell ice to an Eskimo!”
Homer was in a real big bind.
He really didn’t want that kind

Of person in his organization,
But if the guy hollered “discrimination”
He’d be in an even bigger mess.
What to do next he couldn’t even guess.

Then he remembered the suit on the rack.
It was orange and red and yellow and black.
Homer by now was feeling real mean so he
Added a vest that was yellow and green.

He pulled it out from the clothing rack.
Luke took one look and was taken aback.
“What in the world is that?” said Luke.
“This is my salesman testing suit,”

Said Homer with a great big smile.
“It’s been with me for quite awhile.
I’m leaving now for an hour or more.
If you sell the suit, the job is yours.”

Homer smiled again as he closed the door,
Knowing he was off the hook for sure.
When he returned the first thing he saw
Was the hippy, bruised, scratched, bleeding, and raw.

His clothes were in shreds from his knees to his chin,
But on his face was a great big grin.
“I sold the suit! I did it, Man!”
Said Luke. “Hey, boss, you got a new hand!”

“I can’t believe you did that, Luke.
Was the customer happy with the suit?”
“Yeah, man! The customer liked it a bunch.
But his seeing eye dog nearly ate my lunch.”

Tuesday Tickles: Improved State Mottoes!!!

Ok, people. This is meant to be funny only! And if you can’t see the slight truth in the sterotyping as it relates to your state, just don’t bother reading it, lol. Don’t judge me, but one of my absolute favorties is Utah, lol!

Improved State Mottos

Alabama: At Least We’re not Mississippi

Alaska: 11,623 Eskimos Can’t be Wrong!

Arizona: Dehyd-rific!

Arkansas: Litterasy Ain’t Everthing

California: As Seen on TV

Colorado: If You Don’t Ski, Don’t Bother

Connecticut: Like Massachusetts, Only Dirtier and With Less Character

Delaware: Please Call Before Visiting So We Can Make Room

Florida: Ask Us About Our Grandkids

Georgia: We Put the “Fun” in Fundamentalist Extremism

Hawaii: Haka Tiki Mou Sha’ami Leeki Toru (Death to Mainland Scum, But Leave Your Money)

Idaho: More Than Just Potatoes… Well Okay, We’re Not, But The Potatoes Sure Are Real Good

Illinois: Gateway to Iowa

Indiana: 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free

Iowa: Land of James T. Kirk

Kansas: First Of The Rectangle States

Kentucky: Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names

Louisiana: We’re Not All Drunk Cajun Wackos, But That’s Our Tourism Campaign

Maine: Cheap Lobster

Maryland: A Thinking Man’s Delaware

Massachusetts: Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden’s (For Most Tax Brackets)

Michigan: First Line of Defense From the Canadians

Minnesota: For Sale

Mississippi: Come Feel Better About Your Own State

Missouri: Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars at Work

Montana: Land of the Big Sky, the Unabomer, and Very Little Else

Nebraska: Ask About Our State Motto Contest

Nevada: Whores and Poker!

New Hampshire: Go Away and Leave Us Alone

New Jersey: You Want a ##$%##! Motto? I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto Right Here!

New Mexico: Lizards Make Excellent Pets

New York: You Have the Right to Remain Silent, You Have the Right to an Attorney

North Carolina: Tobacco is a Vegetable

North Dakota: Um… We’ve got… Um… Dinosaur Bones? Yeah, Dinosaur Bones!

Ohio: Don’t Judge Us by Cleveland

Oklahoma: Like the Play, Only No Singing

Oregon: Spotted Owl, It’s What’s For Dinner

Pennsylvania: Cook With Coal

Rhode Island: We’re Not REALLY An Island

South Carolina: Remember the Civil War? We Didn’t Actually Surrender

South Dakota: Closer Than North Dakota

Tennessee: The Educashun State

Texas: Se Hablo Ingles

Utah: Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus

Vermont: Yep

Virginia: Who Says Government Stiffs and Slackjaw Yokels Don’t Mix?

Washington: Help! We’re Overrun By Nerds and Slackers!

Washington, D.C.: Wanna Be Mayor?

West Virginia: One Big Happy Family — Really!

Wisconsin: Come Cut Our Cheese

Wyoming: Wynot?

Tuesday Tickles: You know what they say about assuming…

While waiting for my first appointment in the reception room of a new dentist, I noticed his certificate, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered that a tall, handsome boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 45 years ago.

Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was too old to have been my classmate.

After he had examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended the local high school.

“Yes,” he replied.

“When did you graduate?” I asked.

“In 1952.”

“Why, you were in my class!” I exclaimed.

He looked at me closely, and then asked, “What did you teach?”

Tuesday Tickles: Dueling Diaries

The Dog’s Diary

8:00 am – Dog food! My favorite thing!

9:30 am – A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40 am – A walk in the park! My favorite thing!

10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

12:00 pm – Milk bones! My favorite thing!

1:00 pm – Played in the yard! My favorite thing!

3:00 pm – Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!

5:00 pm – Dinner! My favorite thing!

7:00 pm – Got to play ball! My favorite thing!

8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!

11:00 pm – Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

The Cat’s Diary

Day 983 of My Captivity

    My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

    The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am. Imbeciles!

    There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

    Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.

    I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now …

Tuesday Tickles #3: Of Clarity and Toilets

THE WAYSIDE CHAPEL

Background:

An English Lady, while visiting Switzerland, was looking for a room and she asked the schoolmaster if he could recommend any. He took her to see several rooms and when everything was settled, the lady returned to her home to make final preparations to move.

When she arrived home, the thought suddenly occurred to her that she had not seen a bathroom around the place. So she immediately wrote a note to the schoolmaster asking him if there was a “W.C.” (being too bashful to write out the words “water closet”) around. The schoolmaster was a very poor student of english, so he asked the parish priest if he could help him in the matter. Together they tried to discover the meaning of the letters “W.C.”, seeing as they spoke a different language, and the only solution they could find for the letters was a “Wayside Chapel”. The schoolmaster then wrote the following note to the very startled English Lady:

Dear Madam:

I take great pleasure in informing you that the “W.C.” is situated nine miles from the house in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees surrounded by lovely grounds. It is capable of holding 229 people and it is open on Sundays and Thursdays only.

As there are a great number of people expected during the summer months, I would suggest that you come early, although there is usually plenty of standing room. This is an unfortunate situation particularly if you are in the habit of going regularly. You will, no doubt, be glad to hear that a good number bring their own lunch and make a day of it. While others, who can afford to go by car, arrive just in time.

I would especially recommend your Ladyship to go on Thursday when there is an organ accompaniment. The acoustics are excellent, and even the most delicate sounds can be heard everywhere.

It may interest you to know that my daughter was married in the “W.C.” and it was there that she met her husband. I can remember the rush there for seats. There were ten people to a seat usually occupied by one. It was wonderful to see the expressions on their faces.

The newest section is a bell donated by a wealthy resident of the district. It rings every time a person enters. A bazaar is to be held to provide plush seats for all since the people feel that it is a long felt need. My wife is rather delicate so she can’t attend regularly. It is almost a year since she went last. Naturally, it pains her very much not to be able to go more often.

I shall be delighted to reserve the best seat for you, if you wish, where you will be seen by all. For the children, there is a special time and place so that they will not disturb the elders.

Hoping to have been of some service to you, I remain,

Sincerely yours,
The Schoolmaster

THE MORAL OF THE STORY: For the sake of yourself, others, and your disgestive system, be sure to to make your message clear! Too many times we get caught caught up in situations or problems that resembles a game of telephone gone very badly awry. What a much clearer world this would be, built on foundations of truth and humbleness, if we said what we meant and meant what we say! Communication is always the key. It may be difficult to turn sometimes, but it opens far more doors than it locks.

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