Buying a Car...

Do you buy a car that appeals to you, or one that is practical and fulfills your needs?  If you are lucky, you can do both.

When buying a new car, I am usually concerned about the location of the dealer in order to service the warranty. We looked at a particular brand, drove them and were about to buy, when the salesman said that the franchise was being transferred next door in favor of a more upscale brand opportunity.  That delayed our purchase, thankfully.

The dealer next door failed to qualify for the franchise and now the closest dealer is forty miles away. Consequently, we are looking elsewhere.  This means giving up the desire for a car that we already picked.

Due to the need and desire to have their cars get better mileage but not sacrifice power, car designers are lowering their cars' stance as well as increasing the rake of the windshields to lower the wind resistance.  Unfortunately, that has played havoc with ergonomics and safety in a few models.  My wife sat in one recently, which drove nicely, but the visor completely obscured the windshield and therefore visibility when flipped down.  That car was quickly rejected.

The models that remain, that are supported by local dealers, have definitely helped to pare down the possible choices for a replacement vehicle.  Another unfortunate reality is that while we would service the vehicle locally, the local dealers refuse to put together a reasonable purchase deal.  We are currently working on that deal with a dealer fifty miles away.

They dismiss our nonacceptance of their pricing because they claim to be a low-volume dealer. I pointed out that high-volume dealers didn't just happen; they have to sell a lot of cars for that moniker.  It also means that they have to be ready to accept less per car, to move them along.

Buying a car and dealing with most salesmen is right up there with dealing with banks...

"Age doesn't always bring wisdom. Sometimes age comes alone."

Not another blonde joke

A man got on the bus with both of his front trouser pockets full of golf balls and sat down next to a beautiful (you guessed it) blonde.

The puzzled blonde kept looking at him and his bulging pockets.

Finally, after many glances from her, he said, "It's golf balls."

The blonde continued to look at him for a very long time, thinking deeply about what he had said.

After several minutes, not being able to contain her curiosity any longer, she asked,

"Does it hurt as much as tennis elbow ?"

New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for Classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.

New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're gay. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.

New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.

New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket, water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.

New Rule: Stop messing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.

New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge asshole.

New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy. Paper? plastic? I don't have time for that. I've just been called to do a cleanup on Aisle Nine!

New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.

Humor and Perspective...

Some people may not like my humor, or what I think may be funny.  They might even say that frequently I am sophomoric.  Humor is valuable, as in "Laughter is the best medicine...".  If you can laugh at the world as well as yourself, then you are definitely healthier that those that wander about with a black cloud over their head.  I am not depressed or even unhappy.  I try to make each day count, and to laugh at the stressful situations that occur.  At any rate, if you like what I think may be funny, then read on... otherwise you need to  find another blog.

I am not an advocate of gun control.  I do believe that making them more difficult to obtain will only mean that the bad guys will have guns, but the good ones won't.  Why is it so easy to buy guns on the internet, without even checking on who is buy them?  Maybe the ammunition should be way more expensive.   It would seem as though those guns bought on the Internet should be registered somewhere, if nothing more but to keep track of how many are going to whom.  Kennedy was assassinated with a mail-order gun.  The  Aurora massacre was  carried out with guns purchased off the internet.  Much certainly has occurred between those two events, and yet we haven't done anything to restrict that kind of access to guns.

Last night I tackled fixing my Corvette.  I had previously  had problems getting into second and third gears.  I thought that my transmission was failing.  Usually that would be one gear or another, but not two. Over the weekend, I had crawled under the car to inspect the shifting linkage.  I was suspecting a problem because it is so unusual to have second and third failing since first and third, and second and fourth are associated together via the linkage.  I discovered a roll-pin sticking out from its home by about 75%, and it was canted and jammed back.  This caused the shifter to not be able to enter second or third gears.  Great, I thought.  I'll just remove the old one and replace it- all should be fixed.


The replacement pin that I had also moved back and forth in the hole- it was too small.  I proceeded to visit three different parts stores to buy a larger diameter, but couldn't unless it was basically gigantic.  My only path to success was to open the roll-pin a bit and make it a larger diameter.  These pins are spring steel and are very difficult to do anything with.  They are utilized in high stressful areas in the design to provide shear strength.


I used various tools and a big hammer to accomplish the enlargement.  Now if I could only get it into the hole.  This required the use of a needle-nosed pliers, from the inside of the car.  I removed a metal plate around the shifter to expose the hole at the bottom of the shifter.  If I cant my head just right, I could see the hole.  At least 39 times, I grabbed the pin with the pliers and attempted to get the pin into the hole, only to drop it to the ground below.  Then get out of the car, get a broom and retrieve the pin from the garage floor.  Then back into the car, get the pliers and try again.  On the 40th try, it started to go in- a tight fit (as planned by enlarging the diameter).  Quickly, I used a pry bar to force it into its home.  A big sigh of relief.

Now, how will I keep the pin from coming out again.  The design of the pin and its use is to stay put by the compression of the pin.  I didn't trust it, so I inserted a very large Cotter pin through the roll pin, and bent over the emerging ends.  That should keep it in place, I thought.  Only time will tell.

This morning the car shifted like a champ.  It almost seemed "happy" to be out of the garage.  I'm very happy that it was not something much more serious and expensive.  I am content.  Persistence and basic mechanical engineering has paid off again.

Things to Remember
We cannot see the future. We cannot change the past. We can only live in the now with an eye towards gaining enough power in the future to wreak revenge on everyone who ever screwed us in the
past.

Dreaming frees the soul, energizes the spirit and allows you to do things that would get your ass thrown in jail if you really tried them.

Love means never having to say, "Does that twenty include the spanking?"

To truly love another, you must first love yourself. And it wouldn't kill you to wash your hands in between either.

A little bit of love goes a long way in our lives. It can provide us with higher highs and lower lows. But, if it comes with a persistent burning sensation, see your physician.


When it becomes a crime to love, you should probably consider dating outside the family.


If Life hands you lemons today, smile and give thanks. Then when Life isn't looking, give him a quick knee to the groin. That'll learn him.


They say a smile is a gift which is free to the giver and precious to the recipient. But giving the finger is free, too, and I find it more personal and sincere.

North vs South
The North has coffee houses,
The South has Waffle Houses

The North has dating services,
The South has family reunions.

The North has switchblade knives,
The South has Lee Press-on Nails

The North has double last names,
The South has double first names.

The North has Indy car races,
The South has stock car races.

The North has Cream of Wheat,
The South has grits.

The North has green salads,
The South has collard greens.

The North has lobsters,
The South has crawfish.

The North has the rust belt,
The South has the Bible Belt.

To cross street, push button!

What's up with crosswalk buttons?  Press them over and over again... do they actually do anything ??  Are the local gubmints sacrificing our good time to wait for a crossing signal just in the name of traffic flow ?  How many of these crosswalk buttons are actually connected or make any difference at all ?  This appears really unfair to the walkers.  How may change of the lights will they have to wait to cross?  Won't they get tired of waiting and jay-walk?  This could be really dangerous.

Officials (or various local gubmints) admit that many crosswalk buttons are more useful than others.  Which actually means that most of them are not useful at all!  Walkers (which they encourage) obviously take the back seat to traffic flow... so what else is new?

Gun control? We need bullet control! I think every bullet should cost $5,000. Because if a bullet cost $5,000, we wouldn't have any innocent bystanders. That'd be it. Every time someone gets shot, people will be like, ''Darn, he must have did something. Shoot, they put $20,000 worth of bullets in his butt.''

People would think before they killed somebody, if a bullet cost $5,000.

''Man, l would blow your freaking head off, if l could afford it. l'm gonna get me another job, l'm gonna start saving some money, and you're a dead man! You better hope l can't get no bullets on layaway.''

So even if you get shot by a stray bullet, you won't have to go to no doctor to get it taken out. Whoever shot you would take their bullet back. ''l believe you got my property.''

The Story of Rindercella.

Once apon a time, in a coreign fountry, there lived a very geautiful birl; her name was Rindercella. Now, Rindercella lived with her mugly other and her two sad bisters. And in this same coreign fountry, there was a very prandsom hince.

And this prandsom hince was going to have a bancy fall. And he'd invited people from riles amound, especially the pich reople. Rindercella's mugly other and her two sad blisters went out to buy some drancy fesses to wear to this bancy fall, but Rindercella could not go because all she had to wear were some old rirty dags. Finally, the night of the bancy fall arrived and Rindercella couldn't go. So she just cat down and scried. She was a kitten there a scrien, when all at once there appeard before her, her gairy fodmother. And he touched her with his wagic mand ... and there appeared before her, a cig boach and hix white sorces to take her to the bancy fall. But now she said to Rindercella, "Rindercella, you must be home before nidmight, or I'll purn you into a tumpkin!"

When Rindercella arrived at the bancy fall, the prandsom hince met her at the door because he had been watchin' behind a woden hindow. And Rindercella and the prandsom hince nanced all dight until nidmight...and they lell in fove. And finally, the mid clock strucknight. And Rindercella staced down the rairs, and just as she beached the rottom, she slopped her dripper!

The next day, the prandsom hince went all over the coreign fountry looking for the geautiful birl who had slopped her dripper. Finally he came to Rindercella's house. He tried it on Rendercella's mugly other ... and it fidn't dit. Then he tried it on her two sigly usters ... and it fidn't dit. Then he tried it on Rindercella ... and it fid dit. It was exactly the sight rize!

So they were married and lived heverly ever hapwards. Now, the storal of the mory is this: If you ever go to a bancy fall and want to have a pransom hince loll in fove with you, don't forget to slop your dripper! 

Walking more and enjoying it less...

Three people juggling three jobs and an internship and two usable cars has made life confusing lately.  My Vette's shifter linkage is messed up and it isn't easy to find someone to work on a fifty-one year old car, not to mention getting it there in first and fourth, since I can't get into second or third.  My wife is looking a various replacement cars, as my daughter is taking the family Honda Pilot back to school with her, but the choices are very confusing.

She started out wanting a small SUV type of vehicle such as the Honda CRV, but they are very high priced.  We looked at the Ford Edge, but it's ergonomics for the driver leaves much to be desired AND the prices are even higher.  Next we looked at the Hyundai Santa Fe (the Tucson is too small) and all they had on the lot were the fully loaded top of the line.  Ins spite of that, the prices were very good, especially on the 46 MPG Elantra.  All was good until the other day when my wife parked next to a Toyota Venza.  She was very excited about the car until she saw the amazing price.  
There are many places in the country where you can buy a house for the prices of these cars.  Woe is us.

I guess I'll be walking to work again tomorrow...does anybody know a good classic Vette mechanic?



"Mitt Romney was attacking Obama about our failing education system. He has a point. We are graduating millions of people in this country who are so lacking in basic analytical skills, they are considering voting for Mitt Romney." –Bill Maher

Did you know “listen” and “silent” use the same letters?

Do you also know that the words “race car” spelled backwards still spells “race car”?

And that “eat” is the only word that if you take the first letter and move it to the last, it spells its past tense “ate”?

And have you noticed that if you rearrange the letters in “illegal immigrants” and add just a few more letters, it spells:
“Go home, you free-loading, benefit-grabbing, resource-sucking, baby-making, non-English-speaking dumb ass, and take those other hairy-faced, sandal-wearing, bomb-making, camel-riding, goat-shagging, raggedy-ass bastards with you.”

How weird is that? English really is a strange language, isn't it!

ALERTS TO THREATS IN 2012
( By John Cleese, British writer, actor and tall person):

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Syria and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A Bloody Nuisance." The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from "Pissed Off" to "Let's get the Bastards." They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability.

Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides."

The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbour" and "Lose."
Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, Mate." Two more escalation levels remain: "Crikey! I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!" and "The barbie is cancelled." So far no situation has ever warranted use of the last final escalation level.

~ John Cleese - British writer, actor and tall person

A final thought -" Greece is collapsing, the Iranians are getting
aggressive, and Rome is in disarray. Welcome back to 430 BC."

Simple Truths

SIMPLE TRUTH 1
Partners help each other undress before sex.

However after sex, they always dress on their own.

Moral of the story: In life, no one helps you once you're screwed.

SIMPLE TRUTH 2
When a lady is pregnant, all her friends touch the stomach and saying "congrats".

But, none of them come and touch the man's penis and say "Good job".

Moral of the story: "Hard work is never appreciated.


FIVE RULES TO REMEMBER IN LIFE
1. Money can not buy happiness, but its more comfortable to cry in a Corvette than on a bicycle.
2. Forgive your enemy, but remember the ass-holes name.
3. If you help someone when they're in trouble, they will remember you when they're in trouble again.
4. Many people are alive only because its illegal to shoot them.
5. Alcohol does not solve any problems, but then neither does milk.

THERE YOU HAVE IT...and remember, life is good.  

The Thunderstorm
She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, "Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?"

The mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. "I can't dear," she said. "I have to sleep with Daddy."

A long silence was broken at last by his shaking little voice, "The big sissy."

Birthday Bash

Busy, Busy, Busy...

The bash last weekend was an unqualified success.  With everyone in the family chipping in to get the work done, the challenges became smaller and smaller as the date approached.  My wife desired to have a last celebration - big celebration- of her birthday.  The plan is to make the rest of them low-key.  First we upgraded and completed the re-landscaping of the back yard.  This required much re-planting and even having two overgrown palms removed.  We all worked tirelessly to make this happen (actually, we all worked while exhausted to make this happen).  We also upgraded the lighting and strung white Christmas lights all over the backyard to make the mood.  We hung Japanese lanterns with battery operated lights.  We also placed candles strategically in the landscaping to create mood shadows.

We investigated what the rental costs for heater, tables, chairs, place settings, linens and glassware.  We decided to buy glassware, heater and place settings, as the rental price was high.  We put together an invitation list, created a custom invitation, had it printed, and then sent it out.  We purchased cases of desirable wine and traveled to the wineries to pick them up.  We put together a menu and investigated caterers.  We decided on entertainment and contacted them for availability and prices.

After all was said and done (supposedly), it was the day before the party.  My daughter had the daunting task to bake seventy cupcakes of various flavors. The party rental delivery arrived and everything was counted and then "installed" into the patio.  I had already assembled the heater that I bought, but it hadn't been tried out.  I lit it for the first time and it was a success.  It was strategically placed between the tables to augment the already installed permanent heater.  The furniture from the family room and living room was re-arranged or moved to the garage to make room for the faux casino.  Two blackjack tables and a craps table were delivered and assembled- ready to go for the next day.

On the day of the party, all of the last minute preparations were made.  The tables were set.  The white wine and beer were iced. The caterer delivered the hors d'oeuvres and set them up appropriately. The music was setup and turned on.  The guests were to arrive very soon.

As the "party-time" quickly approached, the strolling-magician also arrived and began mingling with the guests while performing sleight of hand and various coin tricks.  He also changed one dollar bills into hundred dollar bills.  Unfortunately, he changed them back before returning the guests' money.

The patio quickly filled to relative capacity, as 33 of the 35 invited guests had arrived.  Spirits were flowing freely with the labelled wineglasses and at the guests' assigned seats as well as a faux "living room" setting on the lawn made up of couch and chairs and coffee table and roaring Chiminea.  My wife, the one wearing a birthday tiara, was aglow.  She was really enjoying the company of the A-list (her choice) crowd.

Dinner was served.  A bountiful buffet was created on the island of our kitchen.  Guests flowed in and out of our house to retrieve their dinner repast.  The caterers fluttered about seeing to every detail.  We even hired another to keep the beer and wine stocked, the wine bottles open, and the glasses full.  There was nothing for the family members to do, but enjoy.  The food and atmosphere was stupendous. Dessert cupcakes were made available.

When people were just about done with their dinner, the magician began his show.  He performed flawlessly and comically, calling on helpers form the audience whenever needed.  He made some fantastic illusions passing a quarter into and out of a Perrier bottle.  Another illusion showed a coin entering a filled can of Coke, the can being emptied onto the lawn, crushed, then being "magically" filled and the pop-top showing as unopened.  He had my wife choose a card and then write her name and birthday on it, and then produce an unopened bottle of white wine with her card inside. He produced a bowling ball from a handmade drawing and then juggled it, a lit torch and a machete while balancing on a balance board and roller.  The show was icing on the cake, so far, for a very successful and enjoyable party.
  

At that point, it was time to partake in the indoor activities in the faux casino.  Most of the guests, about twenty-five, decided to play.  Each player was outfitted with $400 of faux money that could be traded for playing chips.  At the end of the night, the chips would be traded for tickets to place into a drawing for five prizes.

This was definitely expensive and a lot of work.  It only shows how far one's family will go to give you what you want for the birthday!

When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on. - Thomas Jefferson

A lesson on irony...

The Food Stamp Program, administered by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, is proud to be distributing the greatest amount of free meals and food stamps ever.

Meanwhile, the National Park Service, administered by the U.S. Department of the Interior, asks us to "Please Do Not Feed the Animals."

Their stated reason for the policy is because the animals will grow dependent on handouts and will not learn to take care of themselves.

This ends today's lesson.

Another Paradigm Shift....

The next generation of E-commerce is about to be sprung on us.  First, retail products that we are familiar with move to E-commerce (ala Amazon).  Now a whole new line of products that can only be bought online are emerging- at phenomenal prices, since they bypass the whole wholesale and distribution costs.  This is good for the consumer, but not good for jobs.  Unfortunately, that is where the spending power comes from.  How will this pan out?  Only time will tell...

I have taken a giant step (or a lot of small ones) and have begun walking to work.  It takes me half an hour, portal to portal.  I get exercise, I arrive awake and ready to work, and I save mileage on the car and gas.  I would ride a bike, except for the impending danger- and the short-cuts that I can take.  It has been an interesting experiment, which I can continue (as long as I don't have wet weather or darkness).  What is really interesting is how many people, dogs, raccoons, etc are up that early.

An older gentleman was on the operating table awaiting surgery and he insisted that his son, a renowned surgeon, perform the operation.

As he was about to get the anesthesia, he asked to speak to his son. "Yes, Dad, what is it?"

"Don't be nervous, son; do your best, and just remember, if it doesn't go well, if something happens to me,
your mother is going to come and live with you and your wife...."

Winners of the "Best Bad Humorous Analogy Contest" in the Washington Post Style Invitational Column:

She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty Bag filled with vegetable soup.

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7 p.m. instead of 7:30.

Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze. Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like "Second Tall Man."

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.

They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the
country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

Kinder and Simpler Times

Not that I have already picked who is going to get my vote for POTUS yet, but I see rumors in the news that the old bat-chain pullers are being vetted as running mates.  I always keep in mind that they are but a bullet away from being president.  That said, the package can't be Romney and Bachmann- that isn't a viable or acceptable package deal.  The Veep needs to be "electable".  Truth is that I don't believe anyone that is worth having as a running mate, is willing to run.  That leaves many second, third and fourth choices that are less than effective- and perhaps damaging...

Many times I have thought about kinder and simpler times, say for example in Mayberry.  I wonder what it would be like to live in a small town utopia without many of the foibles of modern and industrial society.  I could see myself sitting on a bench outside the barber shop and watching the people go by, or playing checkers in the park.  Today, one of my favorites has passed, Andy Griffith.  I am sad because I could never experience the simpler life that he portrayed.  The best I could do was to watch the Andy Griffith Show or Mayberry in re-runs, which I still do occasionally to this day...

Too Much Sugar
A fellow nurse at my hospital received a call from an anxious patient.

"I'm diabetic and I'm afraid I've had too much sugar today." the caller said.

"Are you light-headed?" my colleague asked.

"No," the caller answered, "I'm a brunette."

St. Peter's Book
A man arrives at the pearly gates, waiting to be admitted. St. Peter is reading through the Big Book to see if the guy's name is written in it. After several minutes, St. Peter closes the book, furrows his brow, and says, "I'm sorry, I don't see your name written in the Book."

"How current is your copy?" he asks.

"I get a download every ten minutes," St. Peter replies, "Why do you ask?"

"I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I was always the stubborn type. It was not until my death was imminent that I cried out to God, so my name probably hasn't arrived to your copy yet."

"I'm glad to hear that," Pete says, "but while we're waiting for the update to come through, can tell me about a really good deed that you did in your life."

The guys thinks for a moment and says, "Hmm, well there was this one time when I was driving down a road and I saw a giant group of biker gang members harassing this poor girl. I slowed down, and sure enough, there they were, about 20 of 'em torturing this poor woman. Infuriated, I got out of my car, grabbed a tire iron out of my trunk, and walked up to the leader of the gang.

"He was a huge guy; 6-foot-4, 260 pounds, with a studded leather jacket and a chain running from his nose to his ears. As I walked up to the leader, the bikers formed a circle around me and told me to get lost or I'd be next. So I ripped the leader's chain out of his face and smashed him over the head with the tire iron.

"Then I turned around and yelled to the rest of them, 'Leave this poor innocent girl alone! You're all a bunch of SICK, deranged animals! Go home before I really teach you a lesson in PAIN!'"

St. Peter, duly impressed, says "Wow! When did this happen?"

"About three minutes ago." 

The Israelis and Arabs realized that, if they continued fighting, they would someday end up destroying the whole world. So they decided to settle their dispute with an ancient practice: a duel of two, like David and Goliath. This "duel" would be a dog fight.
The negotiators agreed each side would take 5 years to develop the best fighting dog they could. The dog that won the fight would earn its people the right to rule the disputed areas. The losing side would have to lay down its arms for good.

The Arabs found the biggest, meanest Dobermans and Rottweilers in the world. They bred them together and then crossed their offspring with the meanest Siberian wolves. They selected only the biggest, strongest puppy of each litter, fed it the best food and killed all the other puppies. They used steroids and trainers in their quest for the perfect killing machine. After the 5 years were up, they had a dog that needed steel prison bars on its cage. Only expert trainers could handle this incredibly nasty and ferocious beast.

When the day of the big dog-fight finally arrived, the Israelis showed up with a very strange-looking animal, a Dachshund that was 10 feet long!

Everyone at the dogfight arena felt sorry for the Israelis. No one there seriously thought this weird, odd-looking animal stood any chance against the growling beast over in the Arab camp. All the bookies took one look and predicted that the Arab dog would win in less than a minute.

As the cages were opened, the Dachshund slowly waddled toward the center of the ring.

The Arab dog leaped from its cage and charged the giant wiener-dog.

As he got to within an inch of the Israeli dog, the Dachshund opened its jaws and swallowed the Arab beast whole in one bite. There was nothing left but a small puff of fur from the Arab killer dog's tail floating to the ground.

The stunned crowd of international observers, bookies and media personnel let out a collective gasp of disbelief and surprise.

The Arabs approached the Israelis, muttering and shaking their heads in disbelief. "We do not understand," said their leader, "Our top scientists and breeders worked for 5 long years with the meanest, biggest Dobermans, Rottweilers and Siberian wolves, and they developed an incredible killing machine of a dog!"

The Israelis replied. "Well, for 5 years, we have had a team of Jewish plastic surgeons from Boca Raton working to make an alligator look like a Dachshund."

A cat died and went to Heaven. God met her at the gates and said,
"You have been a good cat all these years.  Anything you want is yours for the asking."
The cat thought for a minute and then said "All my life I lived on a farm and slept on hard wooden floors. I would like a real fluffy pillow to sleep on."
God said, "Say no more."  Instantly the cat had a huge fluffy pillow.
A few days later, six mice were killed in an accident and they all went to Heaven together.  God met the mice at the gates with the same offer that He made to the cat. 

The mice said, "Well, we have had to run all of our lives from cats, dogs, and even people with brooms! If we could just have some little roller skates, we would not have to run again."
God answered, "It is done." All the mice had beautiful roller skates.

About a week later, God decided to check on the cat.  He found her sound asleep on her fluffy pillow.... God gently awakened the cat and asked, "Is everything okay? How have you been doing? Are you happy?"
The cat replied, "Oh, it is WONDERFUL. I have never been so happy in my life. The pillow is so fluffy, and those little 'Meals on Wheels' you have been sending over are delicious."