A woman walks into the downtown welfare office, trailed by 15 kids . . . "WOW," the social worker exclaims, are they ALL YOURS???" "Yep they are all mine," the flustered momma sighs, having heard that question a thousand times before. She says, "Sit down Leroy." All the children rush to find seats. "Well," says the social worker, "then you must be here to sign up. I'll need all your children's names." "This one's my oldest - he is Leroy." "OK, and who's next?" "Well, this one he is Leroy, also." The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues. One by one, through the oldest four, all boys, all named Leroy. Then she is introduced to the eldest girl, named Leighroy! "All right," says the caseworker. "I'm seeing a pattern here . . . Are they ALL named Leroy?" Their Momma replied, "Well, yes; it makes it easier. When it is time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, 'Leroy!' an' they all comes arunnin.' An' when it's time for dinner, I just yell 'Leroy!' an' they all comes arunnin.' An' if I need to stop the kid who's running into the street, I just yell 'Leroy' and all of them stop. It's the smartest idea I ever had, namin' them all Leroy." The social worker thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead and says tentatively, "But what if you just want ONE kid to come, and not the whole bunch?" "Then I call them by their last names."
Living Will is Best Revenge -by ROBERT FRIEDMAN, Perspective Editor Published March 27, 2005 Like many of you, I have been compelled by recent events to prepare a more detailed advance directive dealing with end-of-life issues. Here's what mine says: In the event I lapse into a persistent vegetative state, I want medical authorities to resort to extraordinary means to prolong my hellish semiexistence. Fifteen years wouldn't be long enough for me. I want my wife and my parents to compound their misery by engaging in a bitter and protracted feud that depletes their emotions and their bank accounts. I want my wife to ruin the rest of her life by maintaining an interminable vigil at my bedside. I'd be really jealous if she waited less than a decade to start dating again or otherwise rebuilding a semblance of a normal life. I want my case to be turned into a circus by losers and crackpots from around the country who hope to bring meaning to their empty lives by investing the same transient emotion in me that they once reserved for Laci Peterson, Chandra Levy and that little girl who got stuck in a well. I want those crackpots to spread vicious lies about my wife. I want to be placed in a hospice where protesters can gather to bring further grief and disruption to the lives of dozens of dying patients and families whose stories are sadder than my own. I want the people who attach themselves to my case because of their deep devotion to the sanctity of life to make death threats against any judges, elected officials or health care professionals who disagree with them. I want the medical geniuses and philosopher kings who populate the Florida Legislature to ignore me for more than a decade and then turn my case into a forum for weeks of politically calculate bloviation. I want total strangers - oily politicians, maudlin news anchors, ersatz friars and all other hangers-on - to start calling me "Bobby," as if they had known me since childhood. I'm not insisting on this as part of my directive, but it would be nice if Congress passed a "Bobby's Law" that applied only to me and ignored the medical needs of tens of millions of other Americans without adequate health coverage. Even if the "Bobby's Law" idea doesn't work out, I want Congress - especially all those self-described conservatives who claim to believe in "less government and more freedom" - to trample on the decisions of doctors, judges an other experts who actually know something about my case. And I want members of Congress to launch into an extended debate that gives them another excuse to avoid pesky issues such as national security and the economy. In particular, I want House Majority Leader Tom DeLay to use my case as an opportunity to divert the country's attention from the mounting political and legal troubles stemming from his slimy misbehavior. And I want Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist to make a mockery of his Harvard medical degree by misrepresenting the details of my case in ways that might give a boost to his 2008 presidential campaign. I want Frist and the rest of the world to judge my medical condition on the basis of a snippet of dated and demeaning videotape that should have remained private. Because I think I would retain my sense of humor even in a persistent vegetative state, I'd want President Bush - the same guy who, as governor of Texas, publicly mocked Karla Faye Tucker when signing off on her death warrant - to claim he was intervening in my case because it is always best "to err on the side of life." I want the state Department of Children and Families to step in at the last moment to take responsibility for my well-being, because nothing bad could ever happen to anyone under DCF's care. And because Gov. Jeb Bush is the smartest and most righteous human being on the face of the Earth, I want any and all of the aforementioned directives to be disregarded if the governor happens to disagree with them. If he says he knows what's best for me, I won't be in any position to argue. :eek:
Fun Things To Do In An Elevator: 1. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: "Got enough air in there?" 2. Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering: "Shut up, all of you just shut UP!" 3. Whistle the first seven notes of "It's a Small World" incessantly. 4. Sell Girl Scout cookies. 5. On a long ride, sway side to side at the natural frequency of the elevator. 6. Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake and ask them to call you Admiral 7. When at least 8 people have boarded, moan from the back: "Oh, not now, motion sickness!" 8. Meow occasionally. 9. Wear a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers "through" it. 10. Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers that this is your "personal space."
A small boy was lost at a shopping mall. He approached a uniformed police man and said, "I've lost my grandpa." The Policeman asked, "What's he like?" The little boy replied, "He likes Jack Daniels whiskey and women with big chests."
"Dear Lord", the Priest began with his arms extended and a rapturous look on his upturned face, "without you we are but dust..." He would have continued, but at that moment one very obedient little girl, who was listening ever so carefully for a change, leaned over to her mother and asked quite audibly in her shrill little girl voice, "Mommy, WHAT is BUTT dust?" Mass was pretty much over at that point
some reports on dubya's comments on the late pope john paul ii: Bush on the tragic event: "Our thoughts and prayers go out to this great man and all of his many children." Bush continued: "He touched all of us in places no one else could reach." well done dubya. we wouldnt have expected any more from you!!
Subject: Shortest Fairytale Once upon a time a guy asked a girl, "Will you marry me?" She said "No." And he lived happily ever after.
Ways to keep a healthy level of insanity in the workplace 1. Page yourself over the intercom. (Don't disguise your voice.) 2. Find out where your boss shops and buy exactly the same outfits. Always wear them one day after your boss does. (This is especially effective if your boss is a different gender than you are.) 3. While sitting at your desk, soak your fingers in "Palmolive." 4. Put up mosquito netting around your cubicle. 5. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask them if they want fries with that. 6. Put your garbage can on your desk. Label it "IN." 7. Determine how many cups of coffee are "too many." 8. Put decaf in the coffeemaker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso. 9. In the memo field of all your checks, write "for sexual favors." 10. If you have a glass eye, tap on it occasionally with your pen while talking to others. 11. When driving colleagues around insist on keeping your car windshield wipers running in all weather conditions "to keep 'em tuned up." 12. Reply to everything someone says with "that's what YOU think?" 13. While making presentations, occasionally bob your head like a Parakeet. 14. Sit in the parking lot at lunchtime pointing a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down. 15. Ask your co-workers mysterious questions and then scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about "psychological profiles".
This is an old joke that I told one night at a party where a small group of italians were telling polish jokes. During world war II, Hitler was approached by one of his top inventors. "fuhrer", he said, " I have invented a machine that will revolutionize the process of exterminating undesirables in our concentration camps and I will prepare a demonstration for tomorrow where I will almost instantly vaporize 1000 prisoners". Hitler agreed and the next day he proceed to a camp where there was a very large box and 1000 polocks who were being guarded by 100 italian soldiers. At that point Hitler told the inventor to proceed and he promptly ordered the italian soldiers into the box and then turned on the machine. Immediately, there was a large whirring sound and the doors of the box were thrown open. The 100 italian soldiers had been vaporized. Hitler was shocked and he immediately asked the inventor why he had done such a terrible thing to soldiers who were their allies. "Well", the inventor replied, "We had to grease the machine". The joke was greeted with total silence so I left the party.