nbblood

Question: What is the true definition of Globalization? Answer: Princess Diana’s death. Question: How come? Answer: An English princess with an Egyptian boyfriend crashes in a French tunnel, driving a German car with a Dutch engine, driven by a Belgian who was drunk on Scottish whisky, followed closely by Italian Paparazzi, on Japanese motorcycles, treated by an American doctor, using Brazilian medicines. This message is sent to you using Bill Gates’s technology, and you’re probably reading this on your computer, that use Chinese chips, and a Korean monitor, assembled by Bangladeshi workers in a Singapore plant, transported by Pakistani lorry-drivers, hijacked by Indonesians, unloaded by Sicilian longshoremen, and trucked to you by Mexican illegal immigrants. Of course if you need tech support you can call the tech support line, manned by employees in India. That, my friend, is Globalization!

A man was traveling north to Alberta. He needed to use the bathroom and so at a rest stop he goes into a stall. He sits down and was surprised to hear someone in the next stall say, "So how ya doing?" The man gulps and thinks about what he should say and then decides to answer. So he clears his throat and says, "uh....I'm fine." Then the stranger in the next stall says, "So where are you headed?" Again the man, a little nervous answers, "Uh...I'm headin north to Alberta." Then the stranger asked, "So what have you been up to?" Again the man answers, "Not much, I'm actually on a business trip." The man sat there waiting for another question when finally he heard the stranger in the next stall impatiently say, "Look, I'm going to have to call you back, some idiot in the next stall thinks I'm talking to him."

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An enthusiastic door-to-door vacuum salesman goes to the first house in his new territory. He knocks, a real mean and tough looking lady opens the door, and before she has a chance to say anything, he runs inside and dumps cow patties all over the carpet. He says, "Lady, if this vacuum cleaner doesn't do wonders cleaning this up, I'll eat every chunk of it." She turns to him with a smirk and says, "You want ketchup on that?" The salesman says, "Why do you ask?" She says, "We just moved in and we haven't got the electricity turned on yet."

A young lady stops by her grandmother's house on the way to a dance. She wants to introduce her boy friend to her grandmother. As they are chatting, her boy friend spies some peanuts on the coffee table. He begins munching on them as they converse. After about an hour, they are getting ready to leave and he thanks the grandmother for her hospitality and especially for the peanuts. "Oh, your welcome young man," she says. "I appreciate you finishing them up. Ever since I lost my dentures I can only suck the chocolate off of them."

The really great thing about the new health reform is that it will significantly simplify preparation and paying of taxes. The Obama administration has introduced a potential new tax form that they plan to call the 1040 Super-EZ. It is represented below. Last Name:___________________ First Name:___________________ SSN:____-___-_______ Line 1: How much money did you make this year? ______________ Line 2: Send it in. Signature (Optional):__________________________

Absolutely agree. That's what parents do. Or at least what they should do. Unfortunately too many parents don't. Anyway, I agree 100%.

I'm not saying anything you said is inaccurate. I'm sure it is quite correct. And your comparison makes sense. But, what can be PERCEIVED from your data is that 80% of men are molestors.....I know that's not what you're saying but that's what the perception is. As long as we're talking about probability....line up 100 men. Chances are that, at the most, 1 of them is a child molester. Even though they are 4 times more likely than a woman, the are MOST CERTAINLY NOT likely at all. But you've lumped them all into that stereotype by an incredibly small sample of the population. It's over the top. Again, I don't want to diminish the gravity of molestation and certainly parents should be aware and involved with those which their children are exposed. But labeling every man a potential molester based on the very, very low probability that they actually are is quite insulting. That is the impression I get from your justification. Maybe that's just my perception, but that's what I took away from your post.

And what percentage of men are molesters? Clearly this is how you are justifying this claim, so let's examine the fraction of a single percent of men that are molesters rather than the glaring, eye-catching 80% figure you throw out there to catch attention. I'm not trying to diminish the act of molestation. It's devastating. We know that. But fact is, you've lumped the entire male population into a stereotype based on the acts of less than 1% of that population. A bit over-the-top don't you think?

Here is my personal stance. I absolutely refuse to allow paranoia and fear rule my life or that of my family! Period. Unfortunately, as times progress, dangers progress with them. But I will absolutely accept prudent risk for activities that allow me and my family to experience the joys of life, whatever they may be. In order to mitigate risk, as a parent, I must be involved and informed in the activities of my children. But I absolutely will not EVER put them in a bubble to protect them from life. Sleepovers are a fun part of kids' lives, whether it's a night over at a friend's house or a scout campout or whatever the situation may be. It's a form of social interaction and a means for children to learn and grow socially through experience. Shutting them out of that, IMHO, is not helping them. Sure, maybe, just maybe, you may be preventing them from immediate harm. But in the long run are you doing them any favors? I don't think so. Accepting prudent risk requires involvement and knowing who, what, when, where, why and following up with supervision when needed. But I can't imagine a world where a kid can't sleep over at a friends house when the answers to these questions are suitably answered. Where does it end? Lock the kids in their room and slide sanitized food under the door until they're 25? Again, I refuse to live in such absurd paranoia and fear. /End Rant

For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies. 1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans 2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. 3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. 4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. 5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. CONCLUSION Eat and drink whatever you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

Here is the real guide to good nutrition. Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true? A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it.. don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap. Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables? A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products. Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake? A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up! Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio? A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc. Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program? A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain ... Good! Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you? A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!! .... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you? Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle? A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach. Q: Is chocolate bad for me? A: Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around! Q: Is swimming good for your figure? A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me. Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle? A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape! Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets. And remember: "Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, What a Ride"

One night, a Delta twin-engine puddle jumper was flying somewhere above New Jersey. There were five people on board: the pilot, the world's greatest athlete, the world's smartest man, the Dali Lama, and a hippie. Suddenly, an illegal oxygen generator exploded loudly in the luggage compartment, and the passenger cabin began to fill with smoke. The cockpit door opened, and the pilot burst into the compartment. "Gentlemen," he began, "I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that we're about to crash in New Jersey. The good news is that there are four parachutes, and I have one of them!" With that, the pilot threw open the door and jumped from the plane. The athlete was on his feet in a flash. "Gentlemen," he said, "I am the world's greatest athlete. The world needs great athletes. I think the world's greatest athlete should have a parachute!" With these words, he grabbed one of the remaining parachutes, and hurtled through the door and into the night. The smartest man rose and said, "Gentlemen, I am the world's smartest man. The world needs smart men. I think the world's smartest man should have a parachute, too." He grabbed one, and out he jumped. The Dali Lama and the hippie looked at one another. Finally, the Dali Lama spoke. "My son," he said, "I have lived a satisfying life and have known the bliss of True Enlightenment. You have your life ahead of you; you take a parachute, and I will go down with the plane." The hippie smiled slowly and said, "Hey, don't worry, pop. The world's smartest man just jumped out wearing my backpack."

Just got back from the Straight No Chaser concert in KC. It was a fantastic show! I definitely recommend catching them if they come to your city or a city near you. Tremendously talented and an overall great show!

Those all sound like tasty dishes. I would most certainly use some other protein myself though. I'm glad somebody likes the things. To each their own. I'll pass and I'll gladly give away any that I acquire. I would never leave it to waste, so somebody has to take it.....lol. But my waiting period for elk is over and I'm eligible to put in again. That takes me out of antelope business until I draw my next elk tag cause I'm not gonna go shoot does. Too many other priorities. Oh, and foie gras is awfully hard to come by these days with all the regulation on them, isn't it? It also makes it very expensive. I suppose we've really hijacked this thread now. Oops. To the OP. Good joke. I don't think it's anything to worry about. There, back on track.

Curing Hiccups A woman went to the doctor's office where she was seen by one of the younger doctors. After about four minutes in the examination room, she burst out, screaming as she ran down the hall. An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was and she told him her story. After listening, he had her sit down and relax in another room. The older doctor marched down the hallway to the back where the young doctor was writing on his clipboard. "What's the matter with you?" the older doctor demanded. "Mrs. Reid is 62 years old, has four grown children and seven grandchildren and you told her she was pregnant?" The younger doctor continued writing and without looking up said, "Does she still have the hiccups?"

And God populated the earth with broccoli and cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow vegetable of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives. And Satan created fast food and the 99-cent double-cheeseburger. And Satan said to Man, "You want fries with that?" And Man said, "Supersize them." And Man gained pounds. And God created the healthful yogurt, that woman might keep her figure that man found so fair. And Satan brought forth chocolate. And woman gained pounds. And God said, "Try my crispy fresh salad." And Satan brought forth ice cream. And woman gained pounds. And God said, "I have sent your heart healthy vegetables and olive oil with which to cook them." And Satan brought forth chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained pounds and his bad cholesterol went through the roof. And God brought forth running shoes and Man resolved to lose those extra pounds. And Satan brought forth cable TV with remote control so Man would not have to toil to change channels between ESPN and ESPN2. And Man gained pounds. And God said, "You're running up the score, Devil." And God brought forth the potato, a vegetable naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fat fried them. And he created sour cream dip also. And Man clutched his remote control and ate the potato chips swaddled in cholesterol. And Satan saw and said, "It is good." And Man went into cardiac arrest. And God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery. And Satan created HMO's

Are you kidding me? I've killed quite a few antelope. I've never had any antelope that I deemed edible, let alone "tasty". It's the only meat I've ever given to the dog, that even the dog won't eat. I've tried aging, smoking, curing, salting, buttermilk....you name it....I've tried all the field dressing tricks like immediately packing in ice.....nothing makes those things anything more than rancid goat meat. I suppose if I was starving to death I could manage to choke some down, but hey, the people on "Alive" ate each other, so I suppose anything's possible. Somehow I always find somebody that wants the things. Please give me your address, I'll deliver the next one to your door.

Anybody getting out of jail soon or mired in felony litigation that the Cowboys could pick up?

Here's the story as related to me. Again, I can't verify the story, but it is quite a story about this young man if true. 17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last. Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teays Valley High School in Pickaway County Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them, notes from classmates and teachers, and his homework. Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. It makes such an impact that people want to share it. "You feel like you are there," Mr. Moore said.. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. The Moore 's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.

I thought this was an interesting perspective on judgment, the plan of salvation, and sharing the Gospel. It was something I could relate to on a personal level. I hope you get something from it as well. See next post for the story behind this essay. I cannot verify the story, but it is a touching scenario. Regardless, I think the essay itself is terrific. " The Room.." In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents Often there were many more cards than expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards... But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes.. No one must ever, ever know of this room.. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room.. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files.. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him... His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Right!! Paying it off will be better for your score than keeping a balance. Paying off a debt is an event that makes the scoreboard. Maintaining a small balance and paying on time is ok, but it is better to pay off. Congratulations!

Six Truths of Life 1. You cannot touch all your top teeth with your tongue. 2. All idiots, after reading the first truth, will try it. 3. And discover that the first truth is a lie and feel superior because they can do it. 4. You're smiling now because you're an idiot. 5. You soon will forward this to another idiot. 6. There's still a stupid smile on your face. I apologize about this. I'm an idiot and I needed company ... And I know you have a sense of humor and some teeth.

Names have been removed to protect the stupid! I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, sweet feed it on corn for a few weeks, then butcher it and eat it. Yum! Corn-fed venison. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. Since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not have much fear of me (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck four feet away) it should not be difficult to rope one, toss a bag over its head to calm it down, then hog-tie it and transport it home. I filled the cattle feeder and hid behind it with my rope. The cattle, having seen a roping or two before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it. After 20 minutes, my deer showed up, 3 of them. I picked a likely looking one, stepped out, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell she was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step toward it. It took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope, and received an education. The first thing I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, it is spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope. That deer EXPLODED. The second thing I learned is that, pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range, I could fight down with some dignity. A deer? No chance. That thing ran and bucked, it twisted and pulled. There was no controlling that deer, and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer firmly attached to a rope was not such a good idea. The only upside is that they do not have much stamina. A brief ten minutes later it was tired, and not as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head. At that point, I had lost my appetite for corn-fed venison. I hated the thing, and would hazard a guess that the feeling was mutual. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope. But if I let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painfully somewhere. Despite the gash in my head, and several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's pell-mell flight by bracing my head against large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to suffer a slow death. I managed to get it lined up between my truck and the feeder, a little trap I had set beforehand, like a squeeze chute. I backed it in there, and I started moving forward to get my rope back. Did you know that deer bite? They do! I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab hold of that rope, and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like a horse, it does not just bite and let go. A deer bites and shakes its head, like a pit bull. They bite HARD and won't let go. It hurts! The proper reaction when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and wrenching away. My method was ineffective. It felt like that deer bit and shook me for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds. I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now) tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing up my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I learned my final lesson in deer behavior for the day. Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up and strike at head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp. I learned long ago that when a horse strikes at you with its hooves and you can't get away, the best thing to do is make a loud noise and move aggressively towards the animal. This will cause it to back down a bit, so you can make your escape. This was not a horse. This was a deer. Obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a girl and turned to run. The reason we have been taught NOT to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer are not so different from horses after all, other than being twice as strong and three times as evil. The second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down. When a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately depart. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What it does instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you, while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head. I finally managed to crawl under the truck, and the deer went away. Now I know why people go deer hunting with a rifle and a scope. It's so they can be somewhat equal to the prey.

The Four Cats Four men were bragging about how smart their cats were. The first man was an Engineer. The second man was an Accountant. The third man was a Chemist. The fourth man was a Government Employee. To show off, the Engineer called his cat, "T-square, do your stuff." T-square pranced over to the desk, took out some paper and pen and promptly drew a circle, a square, and a triangle. Everyone agreed that was pretty smart. But the Accountant said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Spreadsheet, do your stuff." Spreadsheet went out to the kitchen and returned with a dozen cookies. He divided them into 4 equal piles of 3 cookies. Everyone agreed that was good. But the Chemist said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Measure, do your stuff." Measure got up, walked to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a 10 ounce glass from the cupboard and poured exactly 8 ounces without spilling a drop into the glass. Everyone agreed that was pretty good. Then the three men turned to the Government Employee and said, "What can your cat do?" The Government Employee called his cat and said, "CoffeeBreak, do your stuff." CoffeeBreak jumped to his feet....... Ate the cookies........ Drank the milk........ Did his business on the paper....... Claimed he injured his back while doing so...... Filed a grievance report for unsafe working conditions....... Put in for Workers Compensation..................and went home for the rest of the day on sick leave............ AND THAT, MY FRIEND IS WHY EVERYONE WANTS TO WORK FOR THE GOVERNMENT!!