A couple sees a classified ad for placing a “Christian dog” in a good home. “How,” they wonder, “do the owners know the dog is Christian?” So they have to go check it out.”Oh, yes,” the owners say, “he’s a good Christian dog. Watch this.” They call the dog over and command, “Pray!”

The dog, of course, puts his head down on his paws and appears to be praying.

“Umm…okay, nice trick. But it doesn’t prove he’s Christian.”

“Well, how about this? Fido, what will comfort me when I’m dying?”

The dog retrieves the family bible, then flips the pages to the 23rd Psalm, putting his paw over the verse that says, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil”.

The couple is, naturally, impressed. They take the dog home.

A few days later, their pastor comes by to visit, and they’re showing off the dog. The dog prays, the dog finds comforting verses in the Bible. The dog is, obviously, a Christian.

The pastor’s wife timidly asks, “Does he do any…you know…normal dog tricks?”

“Well, let’s see…Fido, roll over!”

The dog rolls over.

“Fido, shake hands!”

The dog goes to the pastor and offers his paw.

“Fido, heel!”

The dog goes to the pastor’s wife and puts his paw on her forehead.

“Oh my goodness”, remarks the pastor, “he’s a Pentecostal dog!”

The wife’s story…Fresh from my shower, I stood in front of the mirror complaining to my husband that my breasts were too small. Instead of characteristically telling me it wasn’t so, he uncharacteristically came up with a suggestion.

“If you want your breasts to grow, then every day take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between them for a few seconds.”

Willing to try anything, I fetched a piece of toilet paper and stood there rubbing it between my breasts. “How long will this take?” I asked him.

“They’ll grow larger over a period of years,” my husband replied.

I stopped. “Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between my breasts every day will make them larger over the years?”

Without missing a beat he said, “Worked for your ass, didn’t it?”

He’s still alive, and with a great deal of therapy he may even walk again, although he will probably continue to take his meals through a straw. Stupid, stupid man!

This morning I got call from an ex-girlfriend who phoned me of the blue to see if I was still around.We lost track of time, chatting about the wild, sexy and romantic times we used to enjoy together.

I couldn’t believe it when she asked if I’d be interested in meeting up and rekindling a little of that old magic.

I was flabbergasted. “I don’t know if I could keep up with you now,” I said, “I’m a older and greyer than when you last saw me. Plus I don’t really have the energy I used to have.”

She just laughed and said she was sure I would “rise to the challenge”.

“Yeah,” I said. “just so long as you don’t mind a man with a waistline that’s a few inches bigger these days. Not to mention my lack of muscle tone. Stuff sagging, my teeth not as white, and so on.

She chuckled and told me to stop being silly. She teased me, saying that tubby, grey-haired, older men were cute, and she was sure I would still be a great lover.

Then she giggled and said, “I’ve put on quite a bit of weight myself!”

So I told her to get lost and I hung up.

By day and by night, there walks upon the land* a Monster in the form of a new parent armed with photographs of the sprog it recently threw. The Monster will corner you when you least expect it, with no provocation, and subject your eyes and sensibilities to these images.The warnings range from subtle to overt. At the stealth end of the spectrum lies the Purse Or Wallet Move. When you see a purse or wallet being accessed, try to remember if your companion and you were just engaged in a discussion about credit cards or car keys or who’s paying the tab or something else that might naturally lead to a Purse Or Wallet Move. If not, there’s a good chance that The Monster is about to make an appearance. Certainly, in the case of The Purse Move, this might be just be a makeup or tissue or, if this is a person of stink, cigarette access. But until you’re sure that it’s something like that, be ready to fend off The Monster – which defense will be discussed shortly. Remember, readiness is preparedness. Or next to Godliness. Or something like that.

Of course, at the other end of the range is the dreaded Verbal Warning, which usually takes the form of a rhetorical question of the nature of “Have I shown you little Drooler’s latest pictures?” Rhetorical? To be sure. There is no recorded instance of a “YES!” preventing the arrival of The Monster. And records go clear back to the beginning of practical photography; before that, only those who could afford to have an artist paint or draw the likeness of their sproggen could have such images and they weren’t something that they’d drag around to assault you with on your lunch break from the limestone quarry. But at least with the Verbal Warning, you get a few more seconds to think – to remember The Response.

The Response, and the only one that’s ever proven effective, is (write this down for familiarization): “It looks just like a baby.”

Do not lead to The Monster’s long suit with a compliment and do not note a similarity with one of the parents. In the first case, babies mostly look like somebody’s first attempt in clay class at making a face. In the second case, there won’t be a similarity to anyone; babies and adults don’t look anything alike, other than, if lucky, having the same number of eyes, ears, nostrils, and so on.

Respond the instant that the photo is displayed. Do not look at it for more than one-half second. Respond with total deadpan. Try to get eye contact with The Monster so you know it sees the deadpan. Respond with “It looks just like a baby” and then shut up! But retain eye contact with The Monster if possible. On a good day, with a reasonably sentient Monster, you will get a surprised – and perhaps disappointed – look, but the photo will disappear and you will be saved from the contents of the rest of that plastic accordion. I will repeat: shut up after you’ve given The Response. The deer-in-the-headlights look you’ll hopefully receive is a good thing. It shows that The Monster is confused; when The Monster is confused it packs up its stuff. You, one; Monster, zero.

Try it – it works.**

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A public school teacher was arrested today at John F. Kennedy International Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a set square, a slide rule, and a calculator.

At a morning press conference, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-gebra movement. He did not identify the man, who has been charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction.

“Al-gebra is a problem for us,” Gonzales said “They desire solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in search of absolute values.”

They use secret code names like ‘x’ and ‘y’ and refer to themselves as ‘unknowns’, but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, ‘There are 3 sides to every triangle’. ” When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said, “If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, He would have given us more fingers
and toes.”

White House aides told reporters they could not recall a more intelligent or profound statement by the president.

The Middle East Explanation by Tom Attea

A child ran into an ice-cream shop in The Middle East with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong,” the shopkeeper asked.

“The ice cream I just bought from you is melting!” the child wailed, holding up the evidence.

Sure enough, the delectable treat was dripping down the cone.

“I’m sorry,” the merchant told him.

“I want a new one,” the child demanded.

“I’ll be happy to give it to you, but I warn you; it will also melt.”

“But why?” the child asked. “Is it the heat?”

The shopkeeper glanced at the thermometer that hung on the wall. It read 110 degrees.

“No, son, it is not the heat.”

“Then what is it?”

“Blame America.”

“America?” the child asked.

“Yes, especially President Bush and his administration. They’re responsible.”

“Why would they make ice cream melt in the sun?”

“Why would they want us to kill each other?”

“They want that, too?”

“Why else would we do it?”

“Oh,” said the child. “Is America to blame for anything else?”

“Oh, yes,” said the shopkeeper.

“Like what?”

“Everything that goes wrong.”

“Really? I thought America was spending a lot of money to make things better for us and that a lot of America soldiers were dying to help make things better for us.”

“No, no, my son. You must not listen to such lies. Just blame America.”

“But why?”

“Why else? When we blame America, we don’t have to blame ourselves.”

“Oh,” said the young man. “But do people really believe America is responsible for everything that goes wrong?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” the child wanted to know.

“Repetition. I say it, you say it, we all say it over and over – and pretty soon we all believe it.”

“But how do you know America is to blame for everything?”

“Don’t let yourself be sidetracked by idle thoughts. All you have to know is, blame America.”

“What about the summer heat?”

“And who do you think is responsible for the summer heat? America!”

“Really?”

“Of course. Didn’t you ever hear of global warming?”

“No, what’s that?”

“It’s what happens when America makes anything. It always makes smoke. The smoke goes up in the sky. The smoke traps the heat that comes from the sun. The earth gets warmer. So your ice cream melts.”

“Isn’t anybody else to blame for global warming?”

“I told you before, don’t complicate things. Just blame America, and everybody will agree with you.”

“Oh, OK. Then I’ll blame America.”

Just then the child’s ice cream fell out of the cone and plopped onto the floor.

“See what America did to your ice cream? What do you say?”

“Blame America.”

“Very good. And what do you wish for America?”

“What do you mean?”

“What we all wish,” the shopkeeper said. Then he raised his fist, and shouted, “Death to America!”

“Oh,” said the child, who was so frightened by the yell he jumped backward.

“So say it after me,” the merchant encouraged him. “Come on, now. Death to America!”

“Can I have another ice-cream cone if I say it?”

“Of course, you can. Just say it.”

“Death to America!”

“Excellent!” the shopkeeper said, and reached for the scoop.

1. Never slap a man who’s chewing tobacco.

2. Never kick a cow chip on a hot day.

3. There are 2 theories to arguing with a woman … neither work

4. Never miss a good chance to shut up.

5. Always drink upstream from the herd.

6. If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.

7. The quickest way to double your money is to fold it and put it back in your pocket.

8. There are three kinds of men: The ones that learn by reading, the few who learn by observation, the rest who have to pee on the electric fence.

9. Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.

10. If you’re riding’ ahead of the herd, take a look back every now and then to make sure it’s still there.

11. Lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier’n puttin’ it back.

12. After eating an entire bull, a mountain lion felt so good he started roaring. He kept it up until a hunter came along and shot him. The moral: When you’re full of bull, keep your mouth shut.