Pass The Butter . Please.

• This is interesting . .. .

Margarine was originally manufactured to fatten turkeys When it killed the turkeys, the people who had put all the money into the research wanted a payback so they put their heads together to figure out what to do with this product to get their money back. It was a white substance with no food appeal so they added the yellow colouring and sold it to people to use in place of butter How do you like it? They have come out with some clever new flavourings..

• DO YOU KNOW.. The difference between margarine and butter?

Read on to the end…gets very interesting!

Both have the same amount of calories.

Butter is slightly higher in saturated fats at 8 grams; compared to 5 grams for margarine.

Eating margarine can increase heart disease in women by 53%  over eating the same amount of butter, according to a recent Harvard Medical Study.

Eating butter increases the absorption of many other nutrients in other foods.

Butter has many nutritional benefits where margarine has a few and  only because they are added!

Butter tastes much better than margarine and it can enhance the flavours of other foods.

Butter has been around for centuries where margarine has been around for less than 100 years .

And now, for Margarine..

Very High in Trans fatty acids.

Triples risk of coronary heart disease . Increases total cholesterol and LDL (this is the bad cholesterol) and lowers HDL cholesterol, (the good cholesterol)

Increases the risk of cancers up to five times..

Lowers quality of breast milk.

Decreases immune response.

Decreases insulin response.

And here’s the most disturbing fact…. HERE IS THE PART THAT IS VERY INTERESTING!

Margarine is but ONE MOLECULE away from being PLASTIC… and shares 27 ingredients with PAINT

These facts alone were enough to have me avoiding margarine for life and anything else that is hydrogenated (this means hydrogen is added, changing the molecular structure of the substance).

You can try this yourself:

Purchase a tub of margarine and leave it open in your garage or shaded area. Within a couple of days you will notice a couple of things:

• • no flies, not even those pesky fruit flies will go near it (that should tell you something)
• • it does not rot or smell differently because it has no nutritional value ; nothing will grow on it. Even those teeny weeny microorganisms will not a find a home to grow. Why? Because it is nearly plastic . Would you melt your Tupperware and spread that on your toast?

Share This With Your Friends……(If you want to butter them up’)!

Chinese Proverb: When someone shares something of value with you and you benefit from it, you have a moral obligation to share it with others.  Pass the BUTTER PLEASE

A DEA officer stops at a ranch in Texas , and talks with an old rancher. He tells the rancher, “I need to inspect your ranch for illegally grown drugs.” The rancher says, “Okay, but don’t go in that field over there,” as he points out the location

The DEA officer verbally explodes saying, ” Mister, I have the authority of the Federal Government with me.” Reaching into his rear pants pocket, he removes his badge and proudly displays it to the rancher. “See this badge? This badge means I am allowed to go wherever I wish . . . . On any land. No questions asked or answers given. Have I made myself clear? Do you understand?”

The rancher nods politely, apologizes, and goes about his chores.

A short time later, the old rancher hears loud screams and sees the DEA officer running for his life chased by the rancher’s big Santa Gertrudis bull.

With every step the bull is gaining ground on the officer, and it seems likely that he’ll get gored before he reaches safety. The officer is clearly terrified. The rancher throws down his tools, runs to the fence and yells at the top of his lungs . . . . .

“Your badge. Show him your BADGE!”

If you need a good laugh, try reading through these children’s science exam answers

Q: Name the four seasons.

A: Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar!

Q: Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink.

A: Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists.

Q: How is dew formed?

A: The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire.

Q: How can you delay milk turning sour? (brilliant, love this!)

A: Keep it in the cow.

Q: What causes the tides in the oceans?

A: The tides are a fight between the Earth and the Moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature hates a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins in this fight.

Q: What are steroids?

A: Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs.

Q: What happens to your body as you age?

A: When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental.

Q: What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?

A: He says good-bye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery.

Q: Name a major disease associated with cigarettes.

A: Premature death.

Q : How are the main parts of the body categorized? ( e.g., abdomen)

A: The body is consisted into three parts — the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain; the borax contains the heart and lungs, and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels A,E,I,O, and U.

Q: What is the fibula?

A: A small lie.

Q: What does ‘varicose’ mean? (I do love this one…)

A: Nearby.

Q: Give the meaning of the term ‘Caesarian Section.’

A: The Caesarian Section is a district in Rome.

Q: What does the word ‘benign’ mean?’

A: Benign is what you will be after you be eight.

Kids 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.

____________________________________________

TEACHER: Donald, 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, wh! y do yo u 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.

_____________________________________

one of my favorites

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, Simon, 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.

______________________________________

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

HAROLD: A teacher

FOR GUYS!!

DRILL PRESS:

A tall upright machine useful for suddenly snatching flat metal bar Stock out of your hands so that it smacks you in the chest and flings Your beer across the room, denting the freshly-painted project which You had carefully set in the corner where nothing could get to it.

WIRE WHEEL:

Cleans paint off bolts and then throws them somewhere under the Work bench with the speed of light. Also removes fingerprints and Hard earned calluses from fingers in about the time it takes you to Say, ‘Oh sh –’

SKILL SAW:

A portable cutting tool used to make studs too short.

PLIERS:

Used to round off bolt heads. Sometimes used in the creation of Blood-blisters.

BELT SANDER:

An electric sanding tool commonly used to convert minor touch-up jobs Into major refinishing jobs.

HACKSAW:

One of a family of cutting tools built on the Ouija board principle… It transforms human energy into a crooked, unpredictable motion, and The more you attempt to influence its course, the more dismal your Future becomes.

VISE-GRIPS:

Generally used after pliers to completely round off bolt heads. If Nothing else is available, they can also be used to transfer intense Welding heat to the palm of your hand.

OXYACETYLENE TORCH:

Used almost entirely for lighting various flammable objects in your Shop on fire. Also handy for igniting the grease inside the wheel hub Out of which you want to remove a bearing race..

TABLE SAW:

A large stationary power tool commonly used to launch wood projectiles For testing wall integrity.

HYDRAULIC FLOOR JACK:

Used for lowering an automobile to the ground after you have installed Your new brake shoes, trapping the jack handle firmly under the bumper.

BAND SAW:

A large stationary power saw primarily used by most shops to cut good Aluminum sheet into smaller pieces that more easily fit into the trash Can after you cut on the inside of the line instead of the outside edge.

TWO-TON ENGINE HOIST:

A tool for testing the maximum tensile strength of everything you Forgot to disconnect.

PHILLIPS SCREWDRIVER:

Normally used to stab the vacuum seals under lids or for opening Old style paper-and-tin oil cans and splashing oil on your shirt; but Can also be used, as the name implies, to strip out Phillips screw Heads.

STRAIGHT SCREWDRIVER:

A tool for opening paint cans. Sometimes used to convert common Slotted screws into non-removable screws and butchering your palms.

PRY BAR:

A tool used to crumple the metal surrounding that clip or bracket you Need to remove in order to replace a 50 cent part.

HOSE CUTTER:

A tool used to make hoses too short.

HAMMER:

Originally employed as a weapon of war, the hammer nowadays is used as A kind of divining rod to locate the most expensive parts adjacent the Object we are trying to hit.

UTILITY KNIFE:

Used to open and slice through the contents of cardboard cartons Delivered to your front door; works particularly well on contents such As seats, vinyl records, liquids in plastic bottles, collector Magazines, refund checks, and rubber or plastic parts. Especially Useful for slicing work clothes, but only while in use.

Son of a b*tch TOOL: (A personal favorite!!)

Any handy tool that you grab and throw across the garage while yelling ‘Son of a b*tch’ at the top of your lungs, just as your in-laws or any Impressionable children walk through the door. It is also, most often, the Next tool that you will need.

Hope you found this informative.

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this.

Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety….??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.

I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.??

AWESOME!!!?

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.??

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?! !??

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong???

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.? ? All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5″ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, “no possible way!”??

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best…? ? I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, “don’t do it master,” reasoning that a one- second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button,?and??

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION!!!??

I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner , then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.

I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs?

The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, “Do it again, stupid, do it again!”??

Note: If you ever feel compelled to “mug” yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself!

You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.

A three-second burst would be considered conservative??

SON-OF-A-… That hurt like **% !!! A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get up there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I’m still looking for my testicles! I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return!! Still in shock!!

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!?

“If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.”

What would you do? You make the choice. Don’t look for a punch line, there isn’t one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: ‘When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?’

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. ‘I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.’

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, ‘Do you think they’ll let me play?’ Shay’s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, ‘We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.’

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt .. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father’s joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman’s head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, ‘Shay, run to first! Run to first!’ Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, ‘Run to second, run to second!’ Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball … the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head.. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, ‘Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay’

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, ‘Run to third ! Shay, run to third!’

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, ‘Shay, run home! Run home!’ Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

‘That day’, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, ‘the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world’.

Shay didn’t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces..

If you’re thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you’re probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren’t the ‘appropriate’ ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the ‘natural order of things.’ So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it’s least
fortunate amongst them.

You now have two choices:
1. Delete
2. Forward

A 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 of 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 door 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 means 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 employment to Iraq, that they make one phone call the 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 to 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 took 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 had to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have done so.

He was 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.

Bubba died in a fire and his body was burned pretty badly. The morgue needed someone to identify the body, so they sent for his two best friends, Cooter and Gomer. The three men had always done everything together.

Cooter arrived first and when the mortician pulled back the sheet. Cooter said,”Yup, his face is burned up pretty bad. You better roll him over.”

The mortician rolled him over and Cooter said, “Nope, ain’t Bubba.”

The mortician thought this was rather strange. So he brought Gomer in to confirm the identity of the body. Gomer looked at the body and said, “Yup, he’s pretty well burnt
up. Roll him over.”

The mortician rolled him ov er and Gomer said, “No, it ain’t Bubba.”

The mortician asked, “How can you tell?”

Gomer said, “Well, Bubba had two assholes.”

“What? He had two assholes?” asked the mortician.

“Yup, we never seen ‘em, but everybody used to say, “‘There’s Bubba with them two assholes.”

Snappy Answer #1
A flight attendant was stationed at the departure gate to check tickets. As a man approached, she extended her hand for the ticket, and he opened his trench coat and flashed her. Without missing a beat she said, “Sir, I need to see your ticket, not your stub.”

Snappy Answer #2
A lady was picking through the frozen turkeys at the grocery store, but couldn’t find one big enough for her family. She asked a stock boy, “Do these turkeys get any bigger?”

The stock boy replied, “No ma’am, they’re dead.”

Snappy Answer #3
The cop got out of his car and the kid who was stopped for speeding rolled down his window. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,” the cop said.

The kid replied, “Yeah, well I got here as fast as I could.”

When the cop finally stopped laughing, he sent the kid on his way without a ticket.

Snappy Answer #4
A truck driver was driving along on the freeway. A sign comes up that reads “Low Bridge Ahead.” Before he knows it the bridge is right ahead of him and he gets stuck under the bridge. Cars are backed up for miles. Finally, a police car comes up. The cop gets out of his car and walks around to the truck driver, puts his hands on his hips and says, “Got stuck, huh?”

The truck driver says, “No, I was delivering this bridge and ran out of gas.”

Snappy Answer #5
A crowded United Airlines flight was canceled. A single agent was re-booking a long line of inconvenienced travelers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk. He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said, “I HAVE to be on this flight and it has to be FIRST CLASS.”

The agent replied, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll be happy to try to help you, but I’ve got to help these folks first, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that the passengers behind him could hear, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?”

Without hesitating, the agent smiled and grabbed her public address microphone. “May I have your attention please,” she began her voice heard clearly throughout the terminal.

“We have a passenger here at Gate 14 WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHO HE IS. If anyone can help him find his identity, please come to Gate 14.”

With the folks behind him in line laughing hysterically, the man glared at the United agent, gritted his teeth and swore. “F*** you!”

Without flinching she smiled and said, “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to get in line for that, too.”

And the VERY BEST, Snappy Answer #6
THE TEACHER, Snappy Answer OF THE YEAR

A college teacher reminds her class of tomorrow’s final exam. “Now class, I won’t tolerate any excuses for you not being here tomorrow. I might consider a nuclear attack or a serious personal injury or illness, or a death in your immediate family but that’s it, no other excuses whatsoever!”

A smart-ass guy in the back of the room raised his hand and asks, “What would you say if tomorrow I said I was suffering from complete and utter sexual exhaustion?”

The entire class does its best to stifle their laughter and snickering. When silence is restored, the teacher smiles sympathetically at the student, shakes her head, and sweetly says, “Well, I guess you’d have to write the exam with your other hand.”

The USS Montana:

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don’t know, but you know deserves it.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I’d forgotten to make.

I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered, saying ‘Hello.’

I politely said, ‘This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?’

Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear ‘Get the right f***ing number!’ and the phone was slammed down on me.

I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude.

When I tracked down Robyn’s correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again.

When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled ‘You’re an asshole!’ and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word ‘asshole’ next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, ‘You’re an asshole!’

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my theraputic ‘asshole’ calling would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, ‘Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I’m calling to see if you’re familiar with our Caller ID Program?’

He yelled ‘NO!’ and slammed down the phone.

I quickly called him back and said, ‘That’s because you’re an asshole!’ and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking Spot.

Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for.

I hit the horn and yelled that I’d been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me.

I noticed a ‘For Sale’ sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had is number on speed dial,) I thought that I’d better call the BMW asshole, too.

I said, ‘Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?’

He said, ‘Yes, it is.’

I ! asked, ‘Can you tell me where I can see it?’

He said, ‘Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax. It’s a yellow ranch, and the car’s parked right out in front.’

I asked, ‘What’s your name?’

He said, ‘My name is Don Hansen,’

I asked, ‘When’s a good time to catch you, Don?’

He said, ‘I’m home every evening after five.’

I said, ‘Listen, Don, can I tell you something?’

He said, ‘Yes?’

I said, ‘Don, you’re an asshole!’

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too..

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea.

I called asshole #1.

He said, ‘Hello.’

I said, ‘You’re an asshole!’ (But I didn’t hang up.)

He asked, ‘Are you still there?’

I said, ‘Yeah!’

He screamed, ‘Stop calling me,’

I said, ‘Make me,’

He asked, ‘Who are you?’

I said, ‘My name is Don Hansen.’

He said, ‘Yeah? Where do you live?’

I said, ‘Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ranch, I have a black Beamer parked in front.

He said, ‘I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.’

I said, ‘Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole,’ and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2.

He said, ‘Hello?’

I said, ‘Hello, asshole,’

He yelled, ‘If I ever find out who you are….’

I said, ‘You’ll what?’

He exclaimed, ‘I’ll kick your ass,’

I answered, ‘Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.’

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd in Fairfax.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax.

I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really does work.