Tuesday, November 30, 2010

No Body Scan at Airport...

Here’s a great solution to all the controversy over the full body scanners and
intimate pat-downs at the airports. This idea is not original with me, but I
thought I would pass it along. All we need to do is build a booth that you can
step into at the security area. This booth will not X-ray you, but WILL detonate
any explosive device you may have hidden in or on your body. The explosion would
be contained within the sealed booth and would be a win-win for everyone. Racial
profiling would be eliminated. Discrimination would be eliminated. Airport
lockdowns would be eliminated. Long and expensive trials would be eliminated.
This is brilliant. Imagine for a moment…you’re at the airport and you hear a
muffled “boom”. Soon thereafter, an announcement comes over the PA system
“Attention stand-by passengers. We now have a seat on flight number….”
Brilliant, I tell you, brilliant!!!

Monday, November 29, 2010

More Ole and Lena Jokes

Subject: Ole and Lena Jokes
Lena called the airlines information desk and inquired, "How long does it take to fly from Minneapolis to Fargo ?"
"Just a minute," said the busy clerk.
"Vell, said Lena , "If it has to go dat fast, I tink I'll just take da bus."

   ***
The judge had just awarded a divorce to Lena , who had  charged non-support.  He said to Ole, "I have decided to give your wife $400 a month for support."

"Vell, dat's fine, Judge," said Ole. "And vunce in a while I'll try to chip in a few bucks, myself."

   ***
Lars asked Ole, "Do ya know da difference between a Norvegian and a canoe?"
"No, I don't," said Ole
"A canoe will sometimes tip," explained Lars.

   ***
Ole is so cheap that after his airplane landed safely he grumbled, "Vell, dere gose five
dollars down da drain for dat flight insurance!"

   ***
Lars: "Ole, stant in front of my car and tell me if da turn signals are working."
Ole: "Yes, No, Yes, No, Yes, No, Yes, No...."

   ***
Ole died. So Lena went to the local paper to put a notice in the obituaries. The gentleman at the counter, after offering his condolences, asked Lena what she would like to say about Ole.
Lena replied, "You yust put 'Ole died."  The gentleman, somewhat perplexed, said, "That's it? Just 'Ole died'? Surely, there must be something more you'd like to say about Ole. If it's money you're concerned about, the first five words are free. We must say something more."
So Lena pondered for a few minutes and finally said, "OK. You put 'Ole died. Boat for sale.'"

   ***
"Hey, Sven," said Ole, "how many Swedes does it take to grease a combine?"  After Sven replied, "I don't know," Ole said, "Only two, if you run them through real slow."

   ***
Ole and Lars were on their very first train ride. They had brought along bananas for lunch. Just as they  began to peel them, the train entered a long, dark tunnel. "Have you eaten your banana yet," Ole asked excitedly?
"No," replied Lars..
"Vell, don't touch it den," Ole exclaimed.  "I yust took vun bite and vent blind!"

   ***
Ole bought Lena a piano for her birthday. A few weeks later, Lars inquired how she was doing with it.

"Oh," said Ole, "I persuaded her to svitch to a clarinet."

"How come," asked Lars?

"Vell," Ole answered, "because vith a clarinet she can't sing."

   ***
Ole and Lena went to the Olympics.
While sitting on a bench a lady turned to Ole and said, "Are you a pole vaulter?"
Ole said, "No, I'm Norvegian and my name isn't Valter."

   ***

Ole was stopped by a game warden in Northern Wisconsin recently leaving a lake well known for its Walleyes. He had two buckets of fish.
As it was during the spawning season, the game warden asked, "Do you have a license to catch those fish?"

Ole replied, "No, sir! Dese here are my pet fish."
"Pet fish?" the warden replied.
"Ya sure, you betcha." answered Ole. "Every night I take dese fish here down to da lake and let dem svim around for a while. Den I vhistle and dey yump back into der buckets and I take dem home."
"That's a bunch of hooey. Fish can't do that." Said the game warden.
Ole looked at the game warden with an expression of great hurt, and then said, "Yumpin Yimminy! Vell den, I'll just show you den. It really does vork, don'tcha know?"
"O.K. I've got to see this!" The game warden was really qurious now.
So Ole poured the fish into the lake and stood waiting. After several minutes, the game warden turned to Ole and said, "Well?"
"Vell what?" responded Ole.
"When are you going to call them back?"
"Call who back?" asked Ole.
"The fish!"
"What fish?"

   ***
To those in North Dakota , Minnesota , and for that matter the rest of the country, including Canada , I must report the sad news that Ole was shot. He was up by the Canadian border on his 4-wheeler cutting some trees when some rangers looking for terrorists spotted him.
According to the news reports, the rangers shouted to him over a loudspeaker, "Who are you and what are you doing?"
Ole shouted back, "OLE...BIN LOGGIN'!"
Ole is survived by his wife Lena and Lena 's good friend Lars.

What's Most Important in Life?

A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door.



It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams.

There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.


Over the phone,
his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night The funeral is Wednesday." Memories
flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his
childhood days.


"Jack, did you
hear me?"


"Oh, sorry, Mom.  Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.


"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.


"I loved that old
house he lived in," Jack said.


"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said


"He's the one who
taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.


As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.


The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.


Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. 

Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked..


"The box is gone," he said


"What box?" Mom asked.


"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box.. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."


It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.


Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:


"Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser."


"The thing he valued most was...my time"


Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.


"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.


"Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!"


"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away,"


Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.


1.
At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.

2.
At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.

3.
A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.

4.
Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

5.
You mean the world to someone.

6.
If not for you, someone
may not be living.


7.
You are special and unique.

8.
When you think you
have no chance of getting what you want, you probably won't get it, but if you trust
God to do what's best, and wait on His time, sooner or later, you will get it or
something better.


9.
When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it.

10.
When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world.

11.
Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.

12.
Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

13.
Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know and you'll both be happy.

14.
If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Children Are Quick


____________________________________  
TEACHER:    Maria, go to the map and find    North America  .
MARIA:         Here it  is.
TEACHER:   Correct.  Now class, who discovered    America ?
CLASS:         Maria.
____________________________________

TEACHER:    John, why are you doing your math multiplication on the floor?
JOHN:          You told me to do it without using tables.
__________________________________________

TEACHER:  Glenn, how do you spell 'crocodile?'
GLENN:      K-R-O-K-O-D-I-A-L'
TEACHER:  No, that's wrong
GLENN:       Maybe it is wrong, but you asked me how I spell it.  
(I  Love this child)
____________________________________________

TEACHER:   Barney, what is the chemical formula for water?
DONALD:     H I J K L M N O.
TEACHER:   What are you talking about?
DONALD:    Yesterday you said it's H to O.  
__________________________________

TEACHER:   Winnie, name one important thing we have today that we
 didn't have ten years ago.
WINNIE:       Me!
__________________________________________  

TEACHER:   Glen, why do you always get so dirty?
GLEN:          Well, I'm a  lot closer to the ground than you are.  
_______________________________________

TEACHER:     Millie, give me a sentence starting with '  I.  '
MILLIE:         I  is..
TEACHER:     No, Millie..... Always say, 'I  am.'
MILLIE:         All right...  'I am the ninth letter of the alphabet.'    
________________________________

TEACHER:    George Washington not only chopped down his father's cherry tree, but also admitted it.  
                   Now, Louie, do you know why his father didn't punish him?
LOUIS:           Because George still had  the axe in his hand....    
______________________________________  

TEACHER:    Now, Bud, tell me frankly, do you say prayers before eating?
SIMON:         No sir, I don't have to, my Mom is a good cook.  
______________________________

TEACHER:        Clyde , your  composition on 'My Dog' is exactly the same as your   brother's.. Did you copy his?
CLYDE  :         No, sir. It's the same dog.     
(I want to adopt this kid!!!)
_________________________________

TEACHER:    Harold, what do you call a person who keeps on talking when people are no longer  interested?
HAROLD:     A teacher
________________________________  


LAUGHTER  IS THE SOUL'S MEDICINE!!

Framed?

THE TOILET SEAT

Charlie's wife, Lucy, had been after him for several weeks to
paint the seat on their toilet.  Finally, he got around to doing it
while Lucy was out.

After finishing, he left to take care of another matter before
she returned.

She came in and undressed to take a shower.  Before getting in
the shower, she sat on the toilet.  As she tried to stand up, she
realized that the not-quite-dry epoxy paint had glued her to the
toilet seat.

About that time, Charlie got home and realized her predicament. 
They both pushed and pulled without any success whatsoever. 
Finally, in desperation, Charlie undid the toilet seat bolts.

Lucy wrapped a sheet around herself and Charlie drove her to the
hospital emergency room.

The ER Doctor got her into a position where he could study how to
free her.  (Try to get a mental picture of this.)

Lucy tried to lighten the embarrassment of it all by saying,"Well,
Doctor, I'll bet you've never seen anything like this before."

The Doctor replied, "Actually, I've seen lots of them. I just never
saw one mounted and framed."

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Vikings

The Minnesota State Police are cracking down on speeders heading into
Minneapolis . For the first offense, they give you two Viking tickets. If
you get stopped a second time, they make you use them.
 
Q.What do you call 47 millionaires around a TV watching the Super Bowl?
A. The Minnesota Vikings
 
Q. What do the Vikings and Billy Graham have in common?
A. They both can make 70,000 people stand up and yell, 'Jesus Christ'.
 
Q. How do you keep the Vikings out of your yard?
A.Put up a goal post.
 
Q.Where do you go in Minneapolis in case of a tornado?
A. To the Metro dome.... they never have a touchdown there!
 
Q. What do you call a Viking with a Super Bowl ring?
A. A thief.
 
Q.What's the difference between the Vikings and a dollar bill?
A. You can still get four quarters out of a dollar bill.
 
Q.How many Vikings does it take to win a Super Bowl?
A. Nobody knows and we may never find out.
 
Q.What do the Vikings and a opossum have in common?
A. Both play dead at home and get killed on the road.

Gruntled?

The word for the day is "gruntle" would you like to be "gruntled" today?  Floyd heard the word disgruntled on the radio on Sunday and with his quirky mind wondered if the word "gruntle" was and word and sure enough it is in the Scrabble Dictionary. So maybe we should all be "gruntled" everyday, what do you think??
 
Gruntle--to put in a happy mood or good humor.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Black Lab


To all the dog lovers I know: This is well worth taking the time to read.
Great Dog Story !

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen.. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly.
I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to.
And I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look like "Lab people," whatever that meant. They must've thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes, and a sealed letter from his previous owner. See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.

Maybe we were too much alike.

For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls --- he wouldn't go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got tossed in with all of my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn't really think he'd need all his old stuff, that I'd get him new things once he settled in But it became pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn't going to.

I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew, ones like "sit" and "stay" and "come" and "heel," and he'd follow them - when he felt like it.  He never really seemed to listen when I called his name --- sure, he'd look in my direction after the fourth or fifth time I said it, but then he'd just go back to doing whatever. When I'd ask again, you could almost see him sigh and then grudgingly obey.

This just wasn't going to work. He chewed a couple shoes and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I could tell. The friction got so bad that I couldn't wait for the two weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search mode for my cell phone amid all of my unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the
"damn dog probably hid it on me."

Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter's number, I also found his pad and other toys from the shelter...I tossed the pad in Reggie's direction and he snuffed it and wagged, some of the most
enthusiasm I'd seen since bringing him home. But then I called, "Hey, Reggie, you like that? Come here and I'll give you a treat." Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction --- maybe "glared" is more accurate --- and
then gave a discontented sigh and flopped down .... with his back to me.

Well, that's not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the shelter phone number.

But I hung up when I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that, too. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice."

____________ _________ _________ _________


To Whoever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it. If you're reading this, it means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab after dropping him off at the shelter.  

He knew something was different. I have packed up his pad and toys before and set them by the back do or before a trip, but this time... it's like he knew something was wrong. And something is wrong...which is why I have to go to try to make it right. 

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you. First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way he hordes them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you throw them, he'll bound after it, so be careful - really don't do it by any roads. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost him dearly.

Next, commands. Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I'll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones --- "sit," "stay," "come," "heel." He knows hand signals: "back" to turn around and go back when you put your hand straight up; and "over" if you put your hand out right or left. "Shake" for shaking water off, and "paw" for a high-five. He does "down" when he feels like lying down --- I bet you could work on that with him some more. He knows "ball" and "food" and "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business.

I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his ears like little pieces of hot dog.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter
has the brand.

He's up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with
yours; they'll make sure to send you reminders for when he's due. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car.
I don't know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. I've never been married, so it's only been Reggie and me for his whole life He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn't bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

Which means that this transition is going to be hard, with him going to live with someone new. And that's why I need to share
one more bit of info with you.... His name's not Reggie.

I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter, I told them his name was Reggie.  He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn't bear to give them his real name. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that
handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting that I'd never see him again. And if I end up coming back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it me and everything's fine. But if someone else is reading it, well ... well it means that his new owner should know his real name. It'll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you'll even notice a change in his demeanor if he's been giving you problems.

His real name is "Tank".  Because that is what I drive.

Again, if you're reading this and you're from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word from my company  commander. See, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could've left Tank with ... and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq , that they make one phone call.. the shelter .. in the "event" ... to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily,
my colonel is a dog guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on his word.

Well, this letter is getting downright depressing, even though, frankly, I'm just writing it for my dog. I couldn't imagine if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family ... but still, Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family.

And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me. That unconditional love from a dog is what I take with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless, to protect innocent people from those
who would do terrible things ... and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I have to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored
him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. I don't think I'll say another good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the first time. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.

Thank you,
Paul Mallory 

____________ _________ _________ _______


I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

"Hey, Tank," I said quietly.

The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

"C'mere boy."

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn't heard in months.

"Tank," I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him.

"It's me now, Tank, just you and me.  Your old pal gave you to me." Tank reached up and licked my cheek. "So whatdaya say we play some ball?"
His ears perked again..

"Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?"

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared in the next room.

And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.