Two elderly English gentlemen met in a pub one afternoon, as they’d been doing for more than twenty years.
Smith “Sorry to hear to hear you buried your wife last week.”
Jones, “Had to. Dead, you know.”
Month: November 2014
Lesson from a Blackbird
I grew up on a farm. My brother and I were out in a field with his shotgun one day when a flock of blackbirds flew over. I fired into the flock, hitting one unfortunate bird. I was thrilled at my marksmanship, never having expected to hit anything. Feeling victorious, I picked the little bird up, only to find he wasn’t dead yet. He wrapped his little claws around my finger reflexively, like a newborn baby does. It broke my heart that I had taken his life for no reason other than my own pleasure. That was when I learned every creature’s life is as precious to it as mine is to me. I’ve never wanted to harm another since then.
Returning the Favor…
Good morning said a woman as she walked up to the man sitting on the ground.
The man slowly looked up.
This was a woman clearly accustomed to the… finer things of life. Her coat was new.. She looked like she had never missed a meal in her life.
His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.. “Leave me alone,” he growled….
To his amazement, the woman continued standing.
She was smiling — her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
“No,” he answered sarcastically. “I’ve just come from dining with the president. Now go away.”
The woman’s smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm.
“What are you doing, lady?” the man asked angrily. “I said to leave me alone.
Just then a policeman came up…
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Sylvia Faun ( A 1930s Memoir)
I adored Miss Billie, my beautiful first grade teacher and hungered for her approval. I strived for perfect work, admiring every thread she wore, her floral scent, her ladylike jewelryI, and her kind, modest manner. Heaven could have granted me no greater wish than to grow up and be just like Miss Billie. And above all this, Miss Billie was fair and Continue reading
Out of the Mouths of Babes…
Love this Reblogging from LittleKarl’s Blog. Thanks
Vintage Booty Boosters
Reblogging
from Envisioning the American Dream and Human Interest. Finally a look I can do!
A turkey isn’t the only thing being stuffed this Thanksgiving.
With visions of a well basted Kim Kardashian dancing in their heads, curve-challenged women wanting to appear more bootyliscious are frantically wriggling into padded panties strategically stuffed with foam and silicone gel pads on their hips and butts.
Booty is back in a big way
The decades long desire for a diminished derriere has seemingly bottomed out.
Buns of Steel are just so yesterday.
Bottoms Up
No ifs, ands or butts about it, suddenly everyone wants a bodacious booty.
The Rubenesque rump long reviled is this years must-have fashion accessory for sex appeal, something non-white culture has long embraced.
Even that gold standard of style Vogue declared “We’re in the era of the big booty.”
Now after years of killer exercises to flatten our plump posteriors, what gal doesn’t find herself needing a boost in the caboose?
Booty Call
“Two…
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That Explains It!
The blonde went to her plastic surgeon. “You’ve got to do something about these wrinkles under my eyes. They look just awful!”
“Sure, I can fix you right up!” said Dr. Jones. “I’ll put this little knob on top of your head. Give it a little twist, and Voila!! The wrinkles are gone! Come back if you have any trouble”
Sure enough, it worked like magic. The blonde was thrilled! She was a new woman! She looked like she was eighteen again! Every time her face drooped a little, she gave the knob a little twist.
Five years later the blonde came back to see Dr. Jones. “You fixed me up a while back with this little knob to tighten up my wrinkles. It worked great for a long time, but it’s stripped out now and I’ve got these big bags under my eyes. What can you do about them?”
“Those aren’t bags! Those are your breasts! I told you to come back if you had any trouble!”
“Oh, then that explains the goatee!”
Adventure racer gives stray dog a meatball, dog follows him to finish line of 430-mile race
What a heart that dog has! Reblogged from the Win
Tarzan
Tarzan was our favorite game. No Cheeta. No Jane. Just Tarzan, Master of the Jungle, swinging from tree to tree. Actually, there was only one rope swing hanging from a shade tree, but it worked just fine. We alternated being Tarzan and vine fetcher. The thrill of standing on the branch, beating your chest and calling out Ahahuh….uhuh…uhuh!!!! before swinging through the jungle was powerful. We never got enough. Continue reading
Nutsrok 