[Rhodes22-list] a week worth of jokes

Bill Effros bill at effros.com
Wed Aug 27 14:54:58 EDT 2003


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What pictures?

Bill Effros


----- Original Message ----- 
From: Michael Meltzer 
To: rhodes22-list at rhodes22.org 
Sent: Wednesday, August 27, 2003 10:54 AM
Subject: [Rhodes22-list] a week worth of jokes


Three young women are at a cocktail party. The conversation turns to their
position in life and it's clear that they are trying to one-up each other.

The first one says, "My husband is taking me to the French Riviera for two
weeks on vacation," and then looks at the others with a superior demeanor.

The second one says, "Well, my husband just bought me a new Mercedes," and
looks about with considerable pride.

Number three says, "Well, to be perfectly honest with you, we don't have
much money and we don't have any material possessions. However, one thing I
can tell you about my husband is that thirteen canaries can stand shoulder
to shoulder on his erect penis."

After this, the first one looks shamefaced and says, "Girls, I've got a
confession to make. I was just trying to impress you. You know that vacation
I was telling you about? Well, it's not to the French Riviera, it's to my
parents house for two weeks."

The second one says, "Your honesty has shamed me. It's not a Mercedes, he
bought me a Plymouth." (Mumf note: it must've been used, then!)

"Well," the third one says, "I also have a confession to make, canary number
thirteen has to stand on one leg!"

 - from Carol Bagshaw

--
A little boy and a little girl attended the same school and became friends.
Everyday they would sit together to eat their lunch. They discovered that
they both brought chicken sandwiches every day. This went on all through the
fourth and fifth grades, until one day he noticed that her sandwich wasn't a
chicken sandwich. He said, "Hey, how come you're not eating chicken -- don't
you like it anymore?"

She said, "I love it, but I had to stop eating it."

"Why?" he asked.

She pointed to her lap and said, "'Cause I'm starting to grow little
feathers down there!"

"Let me see," he said.

"Okay." So she pulled up her skirt.

He looked and said, "That's RIGHT -- you ARE! Better not eat any more
chicken!"

He kept eating! His chicken sandwiches until one day he brought peanut
butter. He said to the little girl, "I had to stop eating chicken
sandwiches, too -- I'm starting to get feathers down there, too!"

She asked if she could look, so he pulled down his pants for her. She looked
and said, "Oh, my GOSH! It's too LATE for you -- you've already got the neck
and the gizzards!"

 - from Patty Galvin

--
Forget the war in Iraq, Afghanistan and our excellent adventure in Liberia.
Forget about Kobe, Arnold, Arriana, Scott and Laci.  The biggest news of the
entire week is that on August 8, 2003, the IRS was unable to convince a jury
in Memphis, Tennessee that the Federal Tax Code requires the citizens to pay
individual income taxes.  I kid you not.

I watched as many Sunday news programs as I could possibly stand, and I
didn't hear a single mention of the IRS' debacle in Memphis.  If you ever
had doubts about the mainstream media being controlled by the federal
government, doubt no more.

For those not already aware, FedEx Pilot Vernice Kuglin began studying the
IRS Code some years ago, and was simply unable to find anywhere in the code
that she was required to pay federal income taxes.

And here's the most remarkable part:  Back in 1995, Kuglin wrote letters in
good faith to the IRS, asking them to show her where the Tax Code requires
individual citizens to pay federal income taxes.  Incredibly, the IRS never
answered a single one of her letters!

As she studied the facts, laws and related documents more, Kuglin became
convinced that, regardless of the IRS' failure to respond one way or the
other, she was exempt from paying federal income taxes.  So, Kuglin filled
out W-4 forms showing 99 exemptions, and turned them in to her employer.
Doing that meant Kuglin got to take home almost all of her paycheck each
payday, instead of what was left after the feds ravaged it.

The IRS went after Kuglin for six counts of tax evasion on $920,000.00
income, and for filing "false" W-4 forms, charges that could have put the 58
year-old Kuglin in federal prison for up to 30 years and cost her 1.5
million in fines.

Apparently, things didn't go quite the slam-dunk way federal prosecutor Joe
Murphy thought they would.  My money says the IRS wishes they had never gone
after Kuglin at all.  In fact, after the jury returned not guilty verdicts
on all counts, Murphy is reported to have demanded that the judge order
Kuglin to file her forms, pay her taxes and "obey the law".  The judge
reportedly replied, "Sir, I don't work for the IRS."

Now pinch yourself and review this astonishing turn of events:  A highly
trained and educated federal prosecutor in Memphis was unable to convince 12
American citizens that Vernice Kuglin was required to pay federal income
taxes.  He was clearly unable to produce a single section of the Tax Code to
that end, and the jury was unanimous in clearing Kuglin of all charges
against her.  If the foregoing was not so, Kuglin would have been convicted.

Jurors tend not to be very sympathetic with tax scofflaws, since each one of
them is also a taxpayer and they understandably feel resentment towards
anyone not paying "their fair share".  So in order for this federal jury to
completely vindicate Kuglin, the government's failure to prove their case
against her had to have been clear and unequivocal!

I haven't read the trial transcript yet, but I must assume the federal
prosecutor at least tried to twist some vague and ambiguous section of the
Tax Code to make it look like it applied to Kuglin.  I don't know that, but
I'll bet he tried.  What else could he use to prosecute her with?

Thanks to the IRS' arrogance and stupidity, and Kuglin's refusal to plead to
lesser charges, Kuglin accomplished what Bob Schultz and the other "tax
protesters" had been denied all along:  To force the IRS into a public
debate and to answer the question of whether or not the Tax Code requires an
individual to pay personal income taxes.  Kuglin and her two attorneys,
Larry Becraft and Robert Bernhoft, have unequivocally forced the IRS to show
its hand, and 12 judges hearing that debate ruled the answer to be "NO".

I think it's time for everyone reading this to send a very polite letter to
the IRS, telling them they read about the case in Memphis, and is it true
that there is no section in the U.S. Tax Code that requires an individual
citizen to pay federal income taxes?

Don't be threatening in any way, or announce that you plan to stop paying
federal income taxes.  This request is for your personal edification, and
you just simply want to know the truth.

Like Kuglin, you probably won't get an answer back, but just to prove you
sent the letter and that they received it, be certain to send the letter via
certified U.S. Mail, with a return receipt requested.  When you get that
receipt back, staple it to a copy of the letter you sent the IRS, and put it
somewhere real secure, like a personal safe or bank deposit box.

I don't have to explain why, now do I?

Now, how many calls to FOX' Bill O'Reilly will it take to convince him we
know he's doing a spin in the No-Spin Zone by sitting on this story?  Start
e-mailing O'Reilly at oreilly at foxnews.com, and be sure to give him your city
and state.  He's gonna love me.

 --Carl F. Worden

++
Democracy is much too precious to be left to the voters. Lucky for us,
electronic ballots make it a lot easier to "fix" an election than it used to
be.

 --Carl Rove

++
To the tune from "The Beverly Hillbillies"...

Come and listen to my story 'bout a boy name Bush.
His IQ was zero and his head was up his tush.
He drank like a fish while he drove all about.
But that didn't matter 'cuz his daddy bailed him out.
DUI, that is. Criminal record. Cover-up.

Well, the first thing you know little Georgie goes to Yale.
He can't spell his name but they never let him fail.
He spends all his time hangin' out with student folk.
And that's when he learns how to snort a line of coke.
Blow, that is. White gold. Nose candy.

The next thing you know there's a war in Vietnam.
Kin folks say, "George, stay at home with Mom."
Let the common people get maimed and scarred.
We'll buy you a spot in the Texas Air Guard.
Cushy, that is. Country clubs. Nose candy.

Twenty years later George gets a little bored.
He trades in the booze, says that Jesus is his Lord.
He said, "Now the White House is the place I wanna be."
So he called his daddy's friends and they called the GOP.
Gun owners, that is. Falwell. Jesse Helms.

Come November 7, the election ran late.
Kin folks said "Jeb, give the boy your state!"
"Don't let those colored folks get into the polls."
So they put up barricades so they couldn't punch their holes.
Chads, that is. Duval County. Miami-Dade.

Before the votes were counted five Supremes stepped in.
Told all the voters "Hey, we want George to win."
"Stop counting votes!" was their solemn invocation.
And that's how George finally got his coronation.
Rigged, that is. Illegitimate. No moral authority.

Y'all come vote now. Ya hear?

 - from Jimi Pocius

--
We have been informed that the Islamic terrorists do not like to be called
"Towel Heads." The item they wear on their heads is actually a small sheet.
Therefore, from this point forward, please refer to them as "Little Sheet
Heads."

Thank you for your support!

 - from Sandy Fraser

I was riding to work yesterday when I observed a female driver cut right in
front of a pickup truck, causing him to have to drive right onto the
shoulder to avoid hitting her. This evidently angered the driver enough that
he hung his arm out his window and "flipped" the woman off.

"Man, that guy is stupid," I thought to myself. I ALWAYS smile nicely and
wave in a sheepish manner whenever a female does anything to me in traffic,
and here's why: I drive 48 miles each way every day to work. That's 96 miles
each day. Of these, 16 miles each way is bumper-to-bumper. Most of the
bumper-to-bumper is on an 8 lane highway. There are 7 cars every 10 feet for
32 miles. That works out to be 982 cars every mile, or 31,424 cars.

Even though the rest of the 32 miles is not bumper to bumper, I figure I
pass at least another 4000 cars. That brings the number to something like
36,000 cars that I pass every day.

Statistically, half of these are driven by females. That's 18,000 women
drivers!

In any given group of females, 1 in 28 has PMS. That's 642. According to
Cosmopolitan, 70% describe their love life as dissatisfying or unrewarding.
That's 449. According to the National Institute of Health, 22% of all
females have seriously considered suicide or homicide. That's 98. And 34%
describe men as their biggest problem. That's 33. According to the National
Rifle Association, 5% of all females carry weapons, and this number is
increasing. That means that EVERY SINGLE DAY,  I drive past at least one
female that has a lousy love life, thinks men are her biggest problem, has
seriously considered suicide or homicide, has PMS, and is armed. Flip one
off? ... I think not

++
Two rednecks, Bubba and Earl, were driving down the road drinking a couple
of bottles of Bud.

The passenger, Bubba, said, "Lookey thar up ahead, Earl, it's a po-lice
roadblock! We're gonna get busted fer drinkin' these here beers!!"

"Don't worry, Bubba," Earl said. "We'll just pull over and finish drinkin'
these beers, peel off the label and stick it on our foreheads, and throw the
bottles under the seat."

"What fer?" asked Bubba.

"Just let me do the talkin', OK?" said Earl.

Well, they finished their beers, threw the empty bottles under the seat, and
each put a label on their forehead.

When they reached the roadblock, the sheriff said, "You boys been drinkin'?"

"No sir," Earl said. "We're on the patch."

 - from Carol Bagshaw

--
Dear Tide:

I'm writing to say what an excellent product you have. I've used it since
the beginning of married life, when my Mom told me it was the best. In fact,
about a month ago, while at my mother-in-law's house, I spilled some red
wine on my new white blouse. She started to berate me about my drinking
problem. One thing lead to another and I ended up with a lot of her blood on
my white blouse, as well.

I tried to get the stain out using her bargain detergent, but it just
wouldn't work. On my way home, I stopped and got a bottle of liquid

Tide with bleach alternative, and all of the stains came out! They came out
so well, in fact, that the police's DNA tests were negative!

I thank you, once again, for a great product.

Well, gotta go. I have to write a letter to the Hefty bag people.

++
The preacher's, Sunday sermon was, "Forgive Your Enemies." He asked, how
many have forgiven their enemies? About half held up their hands.

He then repeated his question. Now about 80 percent held up their hands.

He then repeated his question. All responded, except one elderly lady. "Mrs.
Jones, are you not willing to forgive your enemies?"

"I don't have any."

"Mrs. Jones, that is very unusual. How old are you?"

"Ninety-three," she replied.

"Mrs. Jones, please come down in front and tell the congregation how a
person cannot have an enemy in the world?"

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, and said, "It's
easy, I just outlived those bitches."

 - from Patty "Looks Great in Jeans and a Tight Sweater" Galvin

--
Mildred, 93, was despondent over the recent death of her husband Earl, so
she decided to just kill herself and join him in death.

Thinking it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out Earl's
old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart since it
was so badly broken in the first place.

Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and a burden to
someone, she called her doctor's office to learn her heart's exact location.

"Since you're a woman," the doctor said, "your heart is just below your left
breast. Why do you ask?" She hung up without answering.

Later that night, Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound
to her knee.

 - from Nancy Bakos

--
A virile, young Italian gentleman was relaxing at his favorite bar in Rome,
when he managed to attract a spectacular young blonde. Things progressed to
the point where he invited her back to his apartment, and after some small
talk, they retired to his bedroom and made love.

After a pleasant interlude, he asked with a smile, "So...you finish?" She
paused for a second, frowned and replied, "No".

Surprised, the young man reached for her and the lovemaking resumed. This
time she thrashes about wildly and there are screams of passion. The love
making ends, and again, the young man smiles, and again he asks, "You
finish?"

And again, after a short pause, she returns his smile, cuddles closer to
him, and softly says, "No."

Stunned, but damned if this woman is going to outlast him, the young man
reaches for the woman again. Using the last of his strength, he barely
manages it, but they climax simultaneously, screaming, bucking, clawing and
ripping the bed sheets. The exhausted man falls onto his back, gasping.
Barely able to turn his head, he looks into her eyes, smiles proudly, and
asks again, "You finish!?"

Barely able to speak, she whispers in his ear, "No! I Norwegian."

++
Here are the winning entries from a recent contest for "new scientific
theories."

THE RUNNERS-UP:

4th Runner-Up-- The earth may spin faster on its axis due to deforestation.
Just as a figure skater's rate of spin increases when the arms are brought
in close to the body, the cutting of tall trees may cause our planet to spin
dangerously fast.

3rd Runner-Up- Communist China is technologically underdeveloped because
they have no alphabet. The lack of an alphabet means the Chinese cannot use
"acronyms"; thus, they cannot communicate their ideas at a faster rate.

2nd Runner-Up- The 'Why Yawning Is Contagious' Theory: You yawn to equalize
the pressure on your eardrums. This pressure change outside your eardrums
unbalances other people's ear pressures, so they must yawn to even it all
out.

1st Runner-Up- If an infinite number of rednecks riding in an infinite
number of pickup trucks fire an infinite number of shotgun rounds at an
infinite number of highway signs, they will eventually produce all the
world's great literary works in Braille.

HONORABLE MENTION: The quantity of consonants in the English language is
absolutely constant. If consonants are omitted in one geographic area, they
turn up in another. When a Bostonian "pahks" his "cah", the lost r's migrate
southwest, causing a Texan to "warsh" his car and invest in "erl wells."

GRAND PRIZE WINNER: When a cat is dropped, it ALWAYS lands on its feet; and
when toast is dropped, it ALWAYS lands with the buttered side facing down.
Therefore, I propose to strap buttered toast to the back of a cat. When
dropped, the two will hover, spinning inches above the ground, probably into
eternity. A "buttered-cat array" could replace pneumatic tires on cars and
trucks, and "giant buttered-cat arrays" could easily allow a high-speed
monorail linking New York with Chicago.

++
CANADIAN JOKE # 1

After the North American Beer Festival, all the brewery presidents decided
to go out for a beer.

The guy from Corona sits down and says, "Hey Senor, I would like the world's
best beer, a Corona." The bartender dusts off a bottle from the shelf and
gives it to him.

The guy from Budweiser says, "I'd like the best beer in the world, give me
'The King Of Beers', a Budweiser." The bartender gives him one.

The guy from Coors says, "I'd like the only beer made with Rocky Mountain
spring water, give me a Coors." He gets it.

The guy from Molson's sits down and says, "Give me a Coke." The bartender is
a little taken aback, but gives him what he ordered.

The other brewery presidents look over at him and ask, "Why aren't you
drinking a Molson?"

The Molson president replies, "Well, I figured if you guys aren't drinking
beer, neither would I."

CANADIAN JOKE #2

An Ontarian wanted to become a Newfie (Mumf note: I surmise this is a person
from Newfoundland). He went to the neurosurgeon and asked, "Is there
anything you can do to me that would make me into a Newfie?"

"Sure it's easy," replied the neurosurgeon. "All I have to do is cut out 1/3
of your brain, and you'll be a Newfie."

The fella was very pleased, and immediately underwent the operation.
However, the neurosurgeon's knife slipped, and instead of cutting 1/3 of the
patient's brain, the surgeon accidentally cut out 2/3 of the patient's
brain.

He was terribly remorseful, and waited impatiently beside the patient's bed
as the he recovered from the anesthetic. As soon as the patient was
conscious, the neurosurgeon said to him, "I'm terribly sorry, but there was
a ghastly accident. Instead of cutting out 1/3 of your brain, I accidentally
cut out 2/3 of your brain."

The patient replied, "Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit, monsieur le docteur?"

CANADIAN JOKE #3

Did you hear about the war between Newfoundland and Nova Scotia? The Newfies
were lobbing hand grenades; the Nova Scotians were pulling the pins and
throwing them back.

CANADIAN JOKE #4

In Canada, we have two seasons...six months of winter and six months of poor
snowmobiling.

CANADIAN JOKE #5

One day an Englishman, an American, and a Canadian walked into a pub
together. They proceeded to each buy a pint of Labatt Blue. Just as they
were about to enjoy their beverages, three flies landed in each of their
pints.

The Englishman pushed his beer away from him in disgust. The American fished
the offending fly out of his beer and continued drinking it as if nothing
happened. The Canadian picked the fly out of his drink and started shaking
it over the pint, yelling, "SPIT IT OUT.... SPIT IT OUT, YOU BASTARD!!!"

CANADIAN JOKE #6

A Quebecer, staying in a hotel in Edmonton phoned room service for some
pepper.

"Black pepper or white pepper?" asked the concierge.

"Toilette pepper!" yelled the Quebecer.

CANADIAN JOKE #7

An American, a Scot and a Canadian were in a terrible car accident. They
were all brought to the same emergency room, but all three of them died
before they arrived. Just as they were about to put the toe tag on the
American, he stirred and opened his eyes. Astonished, the doctors and nurses
present asked him what happened.

"Well," said the American, "I remember the crash, and then there was a
beautiful light, and then the Canadian and the Scot and I were standing at
the gates of heaven. St. Peter approached us and said that we were all too
young to die, and said that for a donation of $50, we could return to earth.

"So of course I pulled out my wallet and gave him the $50, and the next
thing I knew I was back here."

"That's amazing!" said the one of the doctors, "But what happened to the
other two?"

"Last I saw them," replied the American, "the Scot was haggling over the
price and the Canadian was waiting for the government to pay his."

++
Three men met at a party, and it wasn't long until the conversation got
around to their line of work and what kind of cars they drove.

"I'm a veterinarian," said the first fellow, "so, naturally, I drive a white
'Vette."

As they smiled and nodded, the second man said, "I own a sign company, so I
drive a purple Neon."

Now the third guy was suddenly quiet until the other two egged him on.
"Well", he finally said, "I'm a proctologist... and I have a brown Probe."

++
Anonymous classified ad:

"2 WIRE MESH BUTCHERING GLOVES: one five-finger, one three-finger, PAIR:
$15"

++
A blonde was speeding in a 35 mile per hour zone when a local police cruiser
pulled her over and the officer walked up to the car. The Female police
officer also happened to be a blonde and she asked for the blonde's driver's
license. The driver searched frantically in her purse for a while and
finally said to the blonde policewoman "What does a driver's license look
like?" Irritated, the blonde cop said "You dummy, it's got your picture on
it!" The blonde driver frantically searched her purse again and found a
small rectangular mirror down at the bottom. She held it up to her face and
said, "Aha! This must be my driver's license" and handed it to the blonde
policewoman. The blonde cop looked in the mirror, handed it back to the
driver and said, "You're free to go. And, if I had known you were a police
officer too, we could have avoided all this hassle."

 - from Carol Bagshaw

(Mumf note: even if you've seen this before, it's worth watching again!)

http://home.attbi.com/~bernhard36/honda-ad.html

 - from John Redfield

--
Never again in your lifetime will the Red Planet be so spectacular. This
month and next, Earth is catching up with Mars, an encounter that will
culminate in the closest approach between the two planets in recorded
history. The next time Mars may come this close is in 2287. Due to the way
Jupiter's gravity tugs on Mars and perturbs its orbit, astronomers can only
be certain that Mars has not come this close to Earth in the last 5,000
years but it may be as long as 60,000 years. The encounter will culminate on
August 27th when Mars comes to within 34,649,589 miles and will be (next to
the moon) the brightest object in the night sky. It will attain a magnitude
of -2.9 and will appear 25.11 arc seconds wide. At a modest 75-power
magnification Mars will look as large as the full moon to he naked eye. Mars
will be easy to spot. At the beginning of August Mars will rise in the east
at 10 p.m. and reach its azimuth at about 3 a.m. But by the end of August
when the two planets are closest, Mars will rise at nightfall and reach its
highest point in the sky at 12:30 a.m. That's pretty convenient when it
comes to seeing something that no human has seen in recorded history. So
mark your calendar at the beginning of August to see Mars grow progressively
brighter and brighter throughout the month. Share with your children and
grandchildren. No one alive today will ever see this again.

 - from Jimi Pocius

--
WILLIMANTIC - Going into the final night of play in the 2003 Women's
Softball Association of Greater Willimantic playoffs, the only certainty was
that the lower seeds had made their fair share of noise.

Tenth-seeded Liberty Bank and No. 7 Team Extreme had incredible playoff runs
while No. 9 ABC Fuel eliminated No. 3 G & B Construction in the only other
suspended playoff game in recent memory.

No. 6 Cedarwood Lounge entered the playoffs on a red-hot roll and hoped the
magic would continue in Monday's first game. Top-seeded Gamache's Barber
Shop was hoping for at least one more shot at No. 2 Blarney's Café, which
sent Gamache's Barber Shop into the loser's bracket on the previous
Wednesday night by the score of 22-12.

Gamache's Barber Shop was also hoping that Monday would not be a repeat of
last year's playoff defeat, a bitter memory where Cedarwood Lounge erased a
21-run deficit to defeat Gamache's Barber Shop by a single run.

"Even though we have different players from last year's squad, we remember
that game. We definitely did not want a repeat of that game," said Gamache's
Barber Shop coach John Luond. "We wanted to play at least two games
 tonight."

In the completion of the game from Wednesday, a contest suspended because of
the town's lights-out policy, play resumed with Gamache's Barber Shop ahead
by a 13-7 margin going into the top of the fifth inning. With one out,
Cedarwood Lounge player/coach Barbara Walters reached on an error before
singles by Sue Donlon and Becky Haines loaded the bases. Walters and Donlon
then scored on a single by Corrina Rustmann.

After holding Gamache's Barber Shop scoreless in the bottom of the inning,
Cedarwood Lounge plated five runs on five hits and four errors to take a
14-13 lead.

Gamache's Barber Shop responded with four runs in the bottom of the sixth
inning to re-take the lead at 17-14. In the seventh, Cedarwood Lounge went
down 1-2-3 and Gamache's Barber Shop advanced to the championship game and a
rematch with Blarney's Cafe.

"We had a heck of a season and a great run in the playoffs," said Walters.
"We have nothing to hang our heads about. I'm very proud of this team!"

In the championship game, Blarney's Café struck first in the home half of
the first.

Anne DesLauries ripped a triple to score Shayla Coutu and Carol Bagshaw for
the early 2-0 lead. Gamache's Barber Shop responded by plating two runs on a
single by Karen Thompson in the top of the second to tie matters at 2-all.

In the top of the third, Gamache's Barber Shop scored five runs on six hits
and four errors to take a 7-2 lead, but Blarney's Café came right back with
a 3-run rally of its own after two outs were recorded.

The defense held for both teams, keeping the score at 7-5 going into the
sixth inning.

In the bottom of the sixth, with runners on second and third and two outs,
Lori Scatena of Blarney's Café hit a grounder to shortstop for what should
have been the final out of the frame. Instead, the throw over to first was
mishandled and Bagshaw scampered home from third. Jen McNeal scored moments
later on a single by Cindy Bourassa to tie the game at 7-all.

Gamache's Barber Shop threatened to score with runners on first and second
with two outs in the top of the seventh. However, McNeal snagged a line
drive off the bat of Gamache's Barber Shop outfielder Tara Risley-Marquez
down the first-base line, saving the potential winning run from scoring and
ending the threat.

In the bottom of the inning, Rosemarie Varela ripped a single to
right-center field and raced to third when the ball eluded the outfielders.
Donna Bartolomei, Blarney's Café's pitcher, then stepped up to the plate and
lofted a sacrifice fly to right field, scoring Varela and giving Blarney's
Café the 8-7 victory and the championship.

"At that point we brought everybody in," said Luond. "We knew we were going
to have to make a play at the plate. If she hits it over our heads, the game
's over. So we brought everyone in. The ball was hit deep enough.

"We wanted to force the third game. That was our goal. It just wasn't meant
to be. We won the regular season and we had a helluva run."

"This was a helluva game," stated a smiling Bagshaw. "It's almost too bad
that I had to play in it, because I would have loved to watch this one!"

++
A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class,
given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says Dr. Smith was known for his
elaborate object lessons. One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary
and knew they were in for a fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a
nearby table were many darts.

Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked
or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts
at the person's picture.

Sally's girlfriend drew a picture of a girl who had stolen her boyfriend.
Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of
a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even
drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she
had achieved.

The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students threw
their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart. Sally
looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Dr.
Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats.

As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't have a
chance to throw any darts at her target, Dr. Smith began removing the target
from the wall. Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus. A hush fell
over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and
jagged marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced.

Dr. Smith said only these words..."In as much as ye have done it unto the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me." Matthew 25:40. No
other words were necessary; the tear-filled eyes of the students focused
only on the picture of Christ.

++
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 sadly.

"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 ox. 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!"

 - from Carol Bagshaw

--
This crocodile was on the beach in front the Petroleum club, Plage Sportive
in Pointe Noire. 21 FT long, 4,500 lbs, around 80 years old minimum.
Specialists said that he was looking to eat humans because he is too old to
catch animals. For the past few months in some villages close to Pointe
Noire people were complaining that some people in their villages have been
disappearing, could be this crocodile. This crocodile was killed by the army
last Sunday at 3:00 pm, currently he is in the freezer at the Azur hotel.
(now view the pictures)
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