A SHORT LESSON ON STRESS MANAGEMENT Just in case you've had a rough day, here's an eight-step stress management technique recommended in the latest psychological texts. The funny thing is that it really works. 1. Picture yourself near a stream. 2. Birds are softly chirping in the cool mountain air. 3. No one but you knows your secret place. 4. You are in total seclusion from the hectic world. 5. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity. 6. The water is crystal clear. 7. You can easily make out the face of the person you're holding underwater. 8. See? You're smiling already.
A guy sits down on a bar stool and says to the guy sitting next to him, "I just came back from the rest room and theres's a guy bent over the sink washing his hands and right behind him is a guy who is fucking him in the ass. AND right behind him is another guy fucking him in the ass." The guy on the next stool asks, "The guy in the middle, was he wearing a red hat?" "Matter of fact he was." "Oh that's Bob, he's pretty lucky playing cards too"
Another Wal-Mart joke..... You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house. Mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever. You are hot and sweaty. Covered in dirt or paint. You have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit, shorts with the hole in crotch, old t-shirt with a stain from who knows what, and an old pair of tennis shoes. Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to Wal-Mart to get something to help complete the job. Depending on your age you might do the following. In your 20's: Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss, and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. You went to school with the pretty girl running the register. In your 30's: Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with. In your 40's: Stop what you are doing. Put a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands Your bottle of Brute Cologne is almost empty so you don't want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart. Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy. In your 50's: Stop what you are doing. Put a hat on, wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dirt in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from your buddy's bait shop and it says, "I Got Worms ". In your 60's: Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose off the dog crap off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50's. You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants. The girl running the register may be cute but you don't have your glasses on so you are not sure. In your 70's: Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your prescriptions ready too. Don't' even notice the dog crap on your shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather. In your 80's: Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember that you needed to go to Wal-Mart. Go to Wal-Mart and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. Fart out loud and you think someone called out your name. The old lady that greeted you at the front door went to school with you. In your 90's: Stop what you are doing.
Successful Texas Lawyer A young cowboy from Dallas , TX goes off to college, but half way through the semester, he has foolishly squandered all his money. He calls home "Dad," he says, "You won't believe what modern education is developing! They actually have a program here in Austin that will teach our dog Old Blue how to talk!" "That's amazing," his dad says. "How do I get Old Blue in that program?" "Just send him down here with $1,000" the young cowboy says. "I'll get him into the course." So, his father sends the dog and $1,000. About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out. The boy calls home: "So how's Old Blue doing, son," his father asks. "Awesome, Dad, he's talking up a storm," he says, "but you just won't believe this - they've had such good results they have started to teach the animals how to Read!" "Read!" says his father, "No kidding! How do we get Old Blue in that program?" "Just send $2,500, I'll get him in the class." The money promptly arrives. Yet, our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk, nor read. So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home, his father is all excited. "Where's Old Blue? I just can't wait to see him read something and talk!" "Dad," the boy says, "I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Old Blue was in the living room kicked back in the recliner, reading the Wall Street Journal, like he usually does. Then he turned to me and asked, 'So, is your daddy still 'messing' around with that little redhead who lives in town?' The father exclaims, "I hope you SHOT that sob before he talks to your Mother!" "I sure did, Dad!" "That's my boy!" The kid went on to be a successful lawyer in Texas, and from there on to New York.
Pga tourney this week is "John Deere Classic", which brings back horrible memories for me. You see, my first wife was having an affair with tractor salesman. We lived in a small town, and everyone knew it but me. Little did I know I was the talk of the village. The first incling I had was when I arrived home one evening to find a "John Dear" letter.
Ahem, speaking of John Deere. I know that salesman, you know what he told me? "We stand behind every product we make except for a manure spreader."