tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80636924991654532782024-03-12T17:27:06.799-07:00My Concrete AngelI hereby dedicate this blog strictly for the amusement of my beloved Pixie. Everyone else will have to deal with being second best.pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-34485909842574939472011-01-27T22:43:00.000-08:002011-01-27T22:43:17.286-08:00To my precious Pixie<blockquote>....sitting here looking at pictures of us and smiling. You are so beautiful.......</blockquote><br />
Looking in your eyes <br />
Kind of heaven eyes <br />
Closing both my eyes <br />
Waiting for surprise <br />
To see the heaven in your eyes is not so far <br />
Cause I'm not afraid to try and go it <br />
To know the love and the beauty never known before <br />
I'll leave it up to you to show it <br />
<br />
And golden lady, golden lady <br />
I'd like to go there <br />
Golden lady, golden lady <br />
I'd like to go there <br />
Take me right away <br />
<br />
Looking at your hands <br />
Hands can understand <br />
Waiting for the chance <br />
Just to hold your hand <br />
A touch of rain and sunshine made the flower grow <br />
Into a lovely smile that's blooming <br />
And it's so clear to me that you're a dream come true <br />
There's no way that I'll be losing <br />
<br />
And golden lady, golden lady <br />
I'd like to go there <br />
Golden lady, golden lady <br />
I'd like to go there <br />
Take me right away <br />
<br />
A touch of rain and sunshine made the flower grow <br />
Into a lovely smile that's blooming <br />
And it's so clear to me that you're my dream come true <br />
There is no way that I'll be losing <br />
<br />
Golden lady, golden lady <br />
I'd like to go there <br />
Golden lady, golden lady <br />
I'd like to go there................... <br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="youtube-player" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NA6OCGLCUec" title="YouTube video player" type="text/html" width="480"></iframe>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-77448345728832611792010-11-05T23:27:00.000-07:002010-11-05T23:27:44.925-07:00SWIMMING IN YOUR OCEAN<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WBvr5hlXALg?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WBvr5hlXALg?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<br />
When I'm sampling from your bosom<br />
<br />
<br />
Sometimes I suffer from distractions like<br />
<br />
Why does God cause things like tornadoes and train wrecks?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When I'm swimming in<br />
<br />
When I'm swimming in your ocean<br />
<br />
Floating aloft on creams<br />
<br />
An scented lotions<br />
<br />
I can get pretty side-tracked<br />
<br />
I hope you'll understand<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When I kneel before your bounty<br />
<br />
Sometimes I wonder if there could be really<br />
<br />
UFO's that come from other planets<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And when you let me taste your fingers<br />
<br />
I take them like fruit and as I linger I<br />
<br />
Wonder if my seed will find purchase in your soil ...<br />
<br />
.......happy birthday...winkpUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-40424544994248935032010-08-04T22:33:00.000-07:002010-08-04T22:33:05.353-07:00Prince Poppycock<object height="360" width="580"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4jgXi8bR-6k&hl=en_US&fs=1?border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4jgXi8bR-6k&hl=en_US&fs=1?border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"></embed></object><br />
<br />
Ok, sometimes I sit here and watch the television, blah blah blah, same old thing. And then what appears to be a freak show comes on the screen, and takes a whole new spin.pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-73446024934674250812010-07-31T15:58:00.000-07:002010-07-31T15:58:52.007-07:00THE DREADED COLD BEAN SAMMICH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioupk5cd7ykjS1W3zMGt0pFrlPffd6orx7kiQAZqfkjoN_13cPSFilOgOsU56bj3qvKvoyzS3eaBmh6kNIZ9jz5FeowDuW9GtPlfvuL8LT0pNteEQTnId3Mc7B3vURGiD1M6ZfnWXNTPkC/s1600/COLDBEANSAMMICH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioupk5cd7ykjS1W3zMGt0pFrlPffd6orx7kiQAZqfkjoN_13cPSFilOgOsU56bj3qvKvoyzS3eaBmh6kNIZ9jz5FeowDuW9GtPlfvuL8LT0pNteEQTnId3Mc7B3vURGiD1M6ZfnWXNTPkC/s320/COLDBEANSAMMICH.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>For years and years, I always trusted my moms cooking but I never knew why. Perhaps it was because the one time my mom went out of town and left dad with uas kids to feed he nearly burned the house down while trying to make popcorn. I still remember seeing the fear in dear old dads eyes when he placed the flaming pan upon moms coveted brand new dishwasher with the butcher block top. We got the portable dishwasher at Montgomery Wards. Mom wanted it in "Harvest gold" to match the kitchen but I think it costs extra so we got a white one with a beautiful finished wood top. In those days you were considered "rich folk" if you had a built in dishwasher. My mom adored it. She read the lil instruction booklet out loud to all of us so we would know how to use it. She would hover over me everytime I wheeled it over to the sink to "hook it up" just to make sure I was 'doing it right'<br />
So you see, it was a sad day for dad when he burned the top. I thought it was kinda cool the way it left a perfect circle of burn in the wood. (I was into my woodburning kit from Christmas), but all of us kids stood there lookin at dads fear, knowing damn well that when mom came home all hell was gonna break loose. Even though it was dads fault, we knew that we would ALL pay for this but at least us kids could cry so mom would feel sorry for us. In those days dads didnt cry. But thats another story.<br />
My dad was a good man. Still is. But in the kitchen the only thing, to this day, he is allowed to make , is salsa. He makes a mean salsa so thats his only job. Men in those days never had to cook, or clean. All they had to do was go to work, and beat the kids when he came home. I am not joking here. My dad would come home and the first words that came from moms mouth was usually, "Edward, go in there and kill that boy". Its a job he didnt really want to do but as a kid I was pretty bad so he was usually ready to give pain. And if it meant getting mom in a good mood again, hell, I was glad to volunteer a beating.<br />
As I grew older my dad and I bonded pretty good. I was a thinker so I would always have a story that went along with my wrong doings and my dad sometimes would give me a Governers pardon if the story was good enough. The coolest thing he ever did was go into my bedroon with a belt, close the door, and whispered to me to "pretend" he was spanking me while he wailed the belt upon the bed. But that too is another story.<br />
What I want to talk about is the horrifying cold bean sandwich.<br />
In my house growing up, we didnt have a lot of money. Mom and dad struggled to feed four kids But we never went to bed hungry. One of the reasons why is because mom always made beans. Always. Pinto beans is usually a staple in a mexican family so thats what we ate. They were inexpensive to buy and eat so we learned to like pinto beans. Luckily mom makes KILLER home made tortillas. Theres nothing in this world as sweet and satifying as a fresh homemade tortilla straight off the grill. My mom makes the best, still does. I still remember the smell of them cooking in the kitchen while I was sleeping. It would wake me up (mom knew this, it was like her only way to wake this lazy teenager up sometimes). I would stumble down to the kitchen, she would routinely hand me a tortilla and smile at me while I smeared hot butter on it and fold it into my eager lil hands. It was like GOLD to me. Sometimes I would put grape jelly on a tortilla and roll it up like a burrito.Theres a million ways to eat tortillas including using it as a napkin. A trick I kearned from my great grandfather. The disposable edible tortilla napkin. <br />
With Pinto beans its different. They usually only go through 2 stages. The first stage is "Ranchero" style the beans forst boiled in water for 5 hours then poured into a bowl eaten whole with fresh chopped green onions and cubed cheddar chunks of cheese. Salsa optional. The second stage is "Refries", smashed pinto beans with a lil milk and cheese.They can be eaten plain as a side dish or as a burrito filling.<br />
There are 3 things in the mexican culture that I consider to be a sacriledge. <br />
The FIRST rule, for me, is to NEVER EVER make a taco with hambuger meat. If you do, please dont call it a taco. I like Taco Bell too but its not real Mexican food. Its like serving Spagettios to a bunch of Italians.<br />
The SECOND rule is to NEVER EVER EVER put ketchup on mexican food. If i find out, I will personally go to your house and slap you so hard, my feet will come off the ground.<br />
The THIRD rule goes out to the reason I hate my dads cooking. After a hard days work in our backyard, my dad asks me. "Hey you hungry?" I say "Yeah" thinking hes gonna treat me to a burger, fries and a shake from the Dairy Queen. He says "Hold on....keep working" and goes inside<br />
So now i'm thinkin CHEESEBURGER! It was a rare treat to go to the Dairy Queen with my dad.Since we never had much money we would sometimes pack up the car, drive over to Henrys Hambugers and order just french fries and share them. So Dairy Queen was like HEAVEN! My dad always ordered a "Tutti Frutti" milkshake for himself which always made me wonder if he ever knew that it was a metaphor for something else. I wondered this only to myself for fear of never being able to go to Dairy Queen again.<br />
While im pulling weeds with my mouth watering dreamin about all this Dairy Queen shit. I awaken in a cloud, but not a pleasant cloud.....I blink my eyes and see dad, standing there, Huge and Ugly, with an outstreched arm holding in his filthy brown hard workin mexican hands....the most horrible thing I have ever seen in my life!!! It was from the Devil himself....straight out of Hell. A half folded slice of whitebread, cradling inside, cold refried beans.<br />
A COLD BEAN SAMMICH!<br />
...........................................................To this day, I still havent forgiven dad for the cold bean sammich. I sometimes have nightmares about it. He didnt even have the decency to serve it warm. I still have chills thinkin about the inprints of his fingers on the bread. Hearing him say "EAT IT"" theres kids starving in Africa" ....."Or somewhere".....<br />
As to which I replied, "Well lets find those kids and they can have this f'kin sammich"<br />
I said this to myself.pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-81866242924905827842010-07-29T21:30:00.000-07:002010-07-30T21:24:58.806-07:00IMMA FAMILY GUY!<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7T0jmZpH1n4&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7T0jmZpH1n4&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
It seems to be,<br />
that all you see,<br />
Is violence in movies,<br />
and sex on TV.<br />
But where are those good old fashioned values,<br />
on which we used to rely?<br />
Lucky imma family guy!<br />
Lucky imma man who,<br />
positively can do,<br />
all the things that make you laugh and cry.....<br />
IM......<br />
A......<br />
FAM.......<br />
LEE......<br />
GUUUUUUUUUUY!<br />
<br />
*the endpUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-63267626655462413442010-07-26T23:51:00.000-07:002010-07-26T23:51:59.986-07:00The Smokers<object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PtMfzasLbu8&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PtMfzasLbu8&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>*He lit the cigarette and smoked it down to the filter in one breath. He silently thanked the cigarette company for being thoughtful enough about his health to include a filter to protect him. So he lit up another. This time he didn't exhale the squeaky-clean filtered smoke, but just let it nestle in his lungs, filing his body with that good menthol flavor. Some more smokers knocked on his door and they came in and all started smoking along with him.<br />
<br />
<br />
"How wonderful it is that we're all smoking," he thought.<br />
<br />
Everyone smoked and smoked and after they smoked they all talked about smoking and how nice it was that they were all smokers and then they smoked some more.<br />
<br />
Smoke, smoke, smoke. They all sang "Smoke That Cigarette" and "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes." Then the smokers smoked one more cigarette and left him alone in his easy chair, about to relax and enjoy a nice quiet smoke. And then his lips fell off.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
*From the book "Cruel Shoes"-Steve MartinpUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-57072086173682171882010-07-18T19:58:00.000-07:002010-07-18T20:03:14.502-07:00:)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10ws-rzY9MaNV6ah4YijxjEFt-zciL8rZAzri-TNj1pzvjWPldOEyrLOiMSprS6jGBA_zmjXSLjuoNx1tw4LGDwRjqEMzNTWbNGLZXL6sl48gCKGiQIleAp9YsoWoOOk3hfkKyj1c0P2Z/s1600/yoyo.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 127px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 124px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495447150723970226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi10ws-rzY9MaNV6ah4YijxjEFt-zciL8rZAzri-TNj1pzvjWPldOEyrLOiMSprS6jGBA_zmjXSLjuoNx1tw4LGDwRjqEMzNTWbNGLZXL6sl48gCKGiQIleAp9YsoWoOOk3hfkKyj1c0P2Z/s400/yoyo.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Wind me up.</div><br /><div>Spin me around</div><br /><div>Sleep</div><br /><div>Wind me up</div><br /><div>Spin me around</div><br /><div>Walk the dog</div><br /><div>Wind me up</div><br /><div>Spin me around</div><br /><div>Dont stop</div><div> </div>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-58486986489009625832010-06-27T01:52:00.000-07:002010-06-27T01:59:10.010-07:00My angel will love this<p><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-GpzdZV1QOk&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="never"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-GpzdZV1QOk&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="never" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p><p></p><p></p><br /><br />WHEN JUST BUT A LITTLE BOY<br />FULL OF LIFE AND MUCH JOY<br />COULDN'T WAIT TO PLAY AND HAVE FUN THAT DAY<br />A DAY WHEN YOUNG IN SENSE<br />MY HAND REACHED UP AND TOUCHED THE FENCE<br />THE SHOCK WIDENED MY EYES RIGHT AWAY<br />SCARED AND WENT RUNNING HOME<br />NO MOM NO DAD I WAS HOME ALONE<br />I WAS SO SCARED NOT SURE WHAT TO DO<br />TOLD NEIGHBOR LADY WHAT IV'E BEEN THRU<br />ASKING HER WHAT I SHOULD DO<br />ONLY TO HEAR HER SAY<br /><br />LITTLE BOY . LITTLE BOY , YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY<br />GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY HOME TO DIE AND STAY<br /><br />LITTLE BOY, LITTLE BOY , YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY<br />GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY , HOME TO DIE AND STAY<br /><br />WITH TEARS IN MY EYES AND FEAR THAT I SHOULD DIE<br />SPENT MOST OF THE ASKING AND WONDERING WHY<br />COULDN'T TELL MOM OR DAD SO THEY NOT TO BE SO SAD<br />I HIDE IN MY ROOM COUNTING WHAT LITTLE TIME I HAD<br />I TOSSED AND TURNED AND WAS UP ALL NIGHT<br />AS THE TIME CAME UPON ME AND IN MY FRIGHT<br />AN HOUR LEFT I COULD STILL HEAR THE LADY SAY<br /><br />LITTLE BOY , LITTLE BOY YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY<br />GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY LITTLE BOY TO DIE AND STAY<br /><br />LITTLE BOY, LITTLE BOY YOU'LL NOT LIVE ANOTHER DAY<br />GO HOME NOW LITTLE BOY , TO DIE AND STAY<br /><br />IT WAS THEN MY MIND SNAPPED AND LIFE WENT AWAY<br />MY LIFE AS A LITTLE BOY NEVER TO BE THE SAME WAY<br />WITH YEARS OF HELP FROM MOM AND DAD<br />THE MINISTERS ANDTHE DOCTORS AND ALL THE LOVE I HAD<br /><br />MY LIFE AS OLDER BETTER IT IS THIS DAY<br />I WISHED ONLY IF THAT LADY WOULDN'T OF LIED MY LIFE AWAY<br />PLEASE PEOPLE TAKE CARE OF WHAT YOU SAY<br />WHAT WE SAY TO CHILDREN CAN AFFECT THEM IN SUCH A WAY<br />PLEASE PEOPLE TAKE CARE OF WHAT YOU SAY<br />CAUSE YOU CAN HURT THOSE CHILDREN IN SUCH A WAYpUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-44291862069401604042010-05-17T23:06:00.000-07:002010-05-18T00:15:57.689-07:00METALMAN☻/ <br />/▌ <br />/ \ "Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask". ~X-Files<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfXCmmPU0BHHNxR0prcF_iYMpyKzFZhGkoGrC1uLClGNQWb96ZEzi72UzQQ_WERsrTVvnJBHHyyMqKQ-vXwn7gb4W9EQR9_vBntiGNqrMLaETa0FTzPT_ALVRVdLppZnO3mMCG7hrq3Ka/s1600/metalman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCfXCmmPU0BHHNxR0prcF_iYMpyKzFZhGkoGrC1uLClGNQWb96ZEzi72UzQQ_WERsrTVvnJBHHyyMqKQ-vXwn7gb4W9EQR9_vBntiGNqrMLaETa0FTzPT_ALVRVdLppZnO3mMCG7hrq3Ka/s400/metalman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472504537369872450" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I have read somewhere that we all dream everytime we sleep. I know this is true for me because I dream all the time. It's just remembering the dream that makes it hard. I usually only remember certain parts of dreams but sometimes I can remember the whole thing. I started by keeping a journal by my bed and as soon as I wake up I write down my dream.<br /> I have found that if I write the dream down within 5 minutes of waking up, I can remember alot more. After doing this for a while, it actually startled me because the dreams were really weird. Nostly scary or off the wall. I remember trying to make myself dream about certain things but it never worked. <br /><br />What I did notice though, was that I had a few re-occuring dreans. One of them I want to tell you about. I call it "MetalMan". Not to be confused with Ironman although I am not ruling out the possibility that it's connected somehow.<br /><br /><br />Anyway, let me say a few things about this dream before I start.<br />First of all, it's always the same scene by scene,everytime. I can dream this dream and know that I am dreaming it again in the dream. The reason why I need to mention this is because there is a stupid ass part of the dream that is supposed to be funny, but it's not. So each time I am having the dream I am dreadfully anticipating that moment. <br />The other thing I wanted to say was that these pictures really dont look like the guy in my dream but its as close as I can get to give you an idea.He has no eyes, just dark sockets and he's really shiny!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYMNn0-Yz5-3KVMPf2GrT1kxsh6gaTb0Mg8YQSINESH7smF9bOAV6kO-DzqIRYegrbw6tjrqzl1rvGoFqc-_pjWsAj3IAP_IRyFBHz2xf0VkI5aCjdWRK-KkxrB0m9RXLs66jQA9h1Fid/s1600/metalman5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 176px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYMNn0-Yz5-3KVMPf2GrT1kxsh6gaTb0Mg8YQSINESH7smF9bOAV6kO-DzqIRYegrbw6tjrqzl1rvGoFqc-_pjWsAj3IAP_IRyFBHz2xf0VkI5aCjdWRK-KkxrB0m9RXLs66jQA9h1Fid/s400/metalman5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472504811545592162" /></a><br /><br />Ok so heres the dream.............................I am awakening, kind of like a baby. My sences tell me that the sky is blue, the air smells clean and I feel like I am in a safe place. I feel my tiny bodystretch and twist as if awakening from a long soft sleep. I blink my eyes and see a shiny smiling face looking down at me. I then realize that I am being held by this figure. And he is HUGE. As big as a mountain! and he is all metal. Not just regular metal scraps but chromed metal! He is beautiful. And I guess he must like me because he smiled and is holding me in his huge hand, What is going to happen next? Why am I here? Metalman must know. So I will wait. Right here. Where its warm and cozy in Metalmans giant hand. I might even take another nap..........<br /><br />...........WOAH whats goin on? we are standind behind a mountain and Metalman is acting weird. He is looking over the mountain as people pass by and then ducking. ............Oh My GOD! He's laughing!Ha Ha he sounds funny but its a weird laugh. Kinda like that dog "Muttley" from that old cartoon? It's kind of a wheezy laugh. Irritating actually. But what is even more ridiculous than that stupis laugh is that he thinks he is being "sneaky". It's like he thinks noboby can see him hiding behind the mountain.He is BIGGER than the mountain. He has to get on his knees to hide completely but he doesnt. Instead he just crouches over a little bit but paople can still see him. And some of them laugh . I hear them laugh at Metalman. I know he hears them laugh too but he probably doesnt realize that the jokes on him. So he laughs and snickers all day. Hmmm this could get old.........<br />..........Ok its night ime now and Metalman is finally tired of laughing and hiding behind the mountain so we go to sleep. .......................<br />.....................Morning comes and we go to the mountain again so I can watch Metalman act like he's hiding again. I hear the laugh and I realize its not so bad. After all, he is taking care of me and he really doesnt talk so whats the big deal if the big fella wants to have a lil fun? I just sit there and wave at the people. They seem to be bored of Metalman because the laugh must have pissed them off too. <br />Anyway this goes on for what seems like a few days and then one day. Metalman stops laughing. And looks down at me all serious like he is trying to tell me something. I look down from the mountain and Metalman stand up and points down to the people below. I stand up and look as Metalman bends over and slowly and very gently streches his huge arm down to the ground and opens his giant palm and hands me over to my real mom and dad.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopHdxL-52j8gj7Jvc1inU05tF7ceH53q4kufvpCDoXCPkovbUjfOadM0LjhCobUyuJrnIycN6GIUDn8wc4oFSUyGqbOhADzTgfRZGOL09R7gCigZ2IJrbcxEBFCaid174M1Rz_xa3VFY9/s1600/metalman4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjopHdxL-52j8gj7Jvc1inU05tF7ceH53q4kufvpCDoXCPkovbUjfOadM0LjhCobUyuJrnIycN6GIUDn8wc4oFSUyGqbOhADzTgfRZGOL09R7gCigZ2IJrbcxEBFCaid174M1Rz_xa3VFY9/s400/metalman4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472505139689463186" /></a>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-76452741175522509452010-01-05T02:07:00.000-08:002010-01-05T08:37:24.247-08:00WINDING DOWN<A href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIaacFvM7ZLLiwBLx4luXrqoonNnGMBv8Qq1_kvSuh5reiI1fokrr4LK6DqJ9x9sOz8jNVTGqzud8schFl79438NomqInRiI7Wpd-FwLQIW0IkwliYwqKwXqF9OlAgoU2Tl3-rWuYC_4Q_/s1600-h/WINDING.jpg"><IMG style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 143px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 103px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423293295081537314 border=0 alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIaacFvM7ZLLiwBLx4luXrqoonNnGMBv8Qq1_kvSuh5reiI1fokrr4LK6DqJ9x9sOz8jNVTGqzud8schFl79438NomqInRiI7Wpd-FwLQIW0IkwliYwqKwXqF9OlAgoU2Tl3-rWuYC_4Q_/s400/WINDING.jpg"></A> I made a New Years resolution this year. It occured to me tonight while at my brothers place. We talked alot about the good old days and the crazy things we've done. And believe me they were CRAZY! Some of those things will always remain just between Gabriel and I. Anyway, as we talked we began to explore the reasons for most of our mistakes along the way and came to the conclusion that whoever invented the metaphor "life in the fast lane", worded it correctly because it sure was fast. But too fast. Too fast for our own good because that is where 90% of the mistakes lied. It's true. As young people start to explore their future they often go too fast and overlook other details that might have prevented a mishap or failure. This is nothing new, really, but the whole discussion turned into a revelation of how we are now. Which is more laid back. And it was sort of rewarding (for me at least) because I knew that this year I had a new goal. Not a huge one, but none the less. a goal to remind myself to stay slow, dont panic, figure it out, yes, but dont freak out if it doesnt happen the way you want it. (it never does anyway huh?) Dont let mean people affect you, walk it off, stay away from rumors. Think of positive ways to talk to people, blow away negative energy and thoughts,especially thoughts because we have to use our mind to make actions. Theres so much more that relates to what i am thinking of at this very moment. So then we got quiet for a few minutes. Just Gabe and I. Both wondering what the other one was gonna say next, when Gabe started talking about our old pal named John who was always and still is in the fast lane. Gabe laughed about how he was always losing things. Everytine John came to us for a visit, he was always late, and he always had a story about what just happened to him and it usually involved something he forgot to do or something that he lost to make him late. It wasnt always a bad thing though. Sometimes his lateness included a gift for us like a good bottle of booze or concert tickets or stereo speakers or cd's.But for some reason there was always a sentiment of disapointment in my mind because I could see clearly that this young man was either taking a risk orgetting involved with something that might get us all into trouble. And a few times it did happen, we got into some situations that we never expected to happen. Like partying with him in a bar and finding out that John threw up in the bathroom and having the manager hand him a mop to clean it up and then kicked us out. Or locking his keys in his car. Losing his keys, losing his money, etc. etc. I will go on to say that 90% of the time when John came for a visit he would leave something that he forgot at our house, which sometimes involved us having to wake up at weird hors in the morning or go run something to him. But we love him like a brother and just accept him for what he is. The conversation turned to the theory of losing things, which is one of my main points in this whole blog. We all lose things. And sometimes we feel so dumb because we know its somewhere but cant find it. "It was just right here" is what we say and then our mind starts going int o a deep analysis of where it could be. But it all boils down to one of 2 things. Either it is here somewhere or it is somewhere else. If it is somewhere else it could still be yours or it could be gone forever. BUT, if it is here (now heres the important part), it will "show up" which means that you could either decide to spend all day lookin for it OR you can wait (kick back) and let it FIND YOU! AND IT WIL FIND YOU!! If it's there, i guaranfrikintee it. It always does. Sometimes its right under your nose, sometimes it's sitting in a position that is not visible at the angle that you eye is looking at. Sometimes its up there^^^ or there<<< or there>>>. well.... you get the picture...... As the conversation turned into this affirmation of what we knew to be truth, I noticed Gabe had a gleam in his eye, as did I as well because sometimes thoughts become things . And sometimes it pays to get to an age where you feel at ease to no longer give a fuck about trivial bullshit. To know that these spoken things are related to age and wisdom. Knowledge that might keep us alive a maybe even lil bit longer. Richard Pryor in his early standup years did an act about n old black man by the name of "Mudbone" Mudbone would tell fascinating stories about life and love.The most profound thing that Mudbone would relay is this...... and I qoute: "Ya know"....."Old people are not fools!"..."Naw Naw".."You dont get old to be no damn fool!" (pause) " Theres alotta young wise men though, that are deader than a motherfucker!" HAPPY NEW YEAR!!<EM></EM> <br /><BLOCKQUOTE></BLOCKQUOTE><br /><OBJECT id=BLOG_video-FAILED class=BLOG_video_class width=320 height=266 contentId="FAILED"></OBJECT><br /><OBJECT id=BLOG_video-23b739fbde83f204 class=BLOG_video_class width=320 height=266 contentId="23b739fbde83f204"></OBJECT>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-8432760401842970722009-10-04T22:43:00.000-07:002009-10-04T22:47:07.876-07:003 REASONS TO BE HAPPY........OK, 4<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9vgf2lYsLowO6DhJYRk_KjTUxuR9OFxCrBOYC52THDaLMKbpx3Q76BMBjtMA9CjesrA7g5Ej-HfJq6qaU9dvTs4PO9omgI0mgv2IjratUpOy5nw05b-BrrpIVFqH3y6ybjqKu_YScFdN/s1600-h/sp4.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9vgf2lYsLowO6DhJYRk_KjTUxuR9OFxCrBOYC52THDaLMKbpx3Q76BMBjtMA9CjesrA7g5Ej-HfJq6qaU9dvTs4PO9omgI0mgv2IjratUpOy5nw05b-BrrpIVFqH3y6ybjqKu_YScFdN/s400/sp4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388988124245176050" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_r0BGdVRX-rl7kKHtkCiroHj-K9LA-RLAPaxWQPg2k0P5_O-zR8FB7S05qeKb4q5lXxZX2Qv0PJLca_zGQiFY_vK4nV62vETLijJNpiGCG1xje6yGSZJFC5DaVC_meTl1lSMMYgFSiUui/s1600-h/sp3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_r0BGdVRX-rl7kKHtkCiroHj-K9LA-RLAPaxWQPg2k0P5_O-zR8FB7S05qeKb4q5lXxZX2Qv0PJLca_zGQiFY_vK4nV62vETLijJNpiGCG1xje6yGSZJFC5DaVC_meTl1lSMMYgFSiUui/s400/sp3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388988114246398386" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvoXR2VoWJp_RKShyphenhyphendyzkMJ5Iw2uUT39yu6e5kC5sUbm7lsAj6s0gixzM05uwmlWUZhD3zunQu5U4mmlNGkxHmfQUnxNANItteILQ2OcFhw8yIPwYTeXUJjbTjoNBYdQ4Mi37hyphenhyphenDPdSog/s1600-h/sp2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGvoXR2VoWJp_RKShyphenhyphendyzkMJ5Iw2uUT39yu6e5kC5sUbm7lsAj6s0gixzM05uwmlWUZhD3zunQu5U4mmlNGkxHmfQUnxNANItteILQ2OcFhw8yIPwYTeXUJjbTjoNBYdQ4Mi37hyphenhyphenDPdSog/s400/sp2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388988109340826402" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzRQVocK2vsbxra2u4IaAT6nE5OxjBtH4DtA9NrO1zYPDMr6HmeQrDxU2wkuhjYX_OoJ0kCEh8WTUqaq1ZvhQ7JC-dzEQ18YpYHQIrDorgMJMRqZA85sSJ_BBMPPLrhIA3rgOwtQj_sOIK/s1600-h/sp.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzRQVocK2vsbxra2u4IaAT6nE5OxjBtH4DtA9NrO1zYPDMr6HmeQrDxU2wkuhjYX_OoJ0kCEh8WTUqaq1ZvhQ7JC-dzEQ18YpYHQIrDorgMJMRqZA85sSJ_BBMPPLrhIA3rgOwtQj_sOIK/s400/sp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388988101281010146" /></a>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-45207928395751626352009-09-26T07:20:00.000-07:002009-09-26T07:21:24.642-07:00Lalo Guerrero<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JZt6lZ6RDAU&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JZt6lZ6RDAU&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-22747043548556719042009-09-26T06:33:00.000-07:002009-09-26T06:36:03.466-07:00"I saw, Saw"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHw355GtrZHZtGrZ22KJpnqehk1Rt_wrZnImJbPRaU7QPWG9YWOLHYo3c9GVA8ycuZvOSqWtlDTGTQCXai5wO-D4584W4Texu9TJvqAPPgN3SncLM2tKV2OpzvemQGI9xQZPC3VI5u_ro/s1600-h/saw.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 62px; height: 64px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJHw355GtrZHZtGrZ22KJpnqehk1Rt_wrZnImJbPRaU7QPWG9YWOLHYo3c9GVA8ycuZvOSqWtlDTGTQCXai5wO-D4584W4Texu9TJvqAPPgN3SncLM2tKV2OpzvemQGI9xQZPC3VI5u_ro/s400/saw.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385769386260057250" /></a><br />I asked someone if they saw , Saw and they said saw what? I said Saw the movie, they said what movie? I said SAW. Did you see the new Saw movie? They said, Oh no, did you? I said not yet but I want to see Saw. They said, oh well, I dont think theres a playground nearby. I said, No I want to see the new Saw movie! They said, I want to see Saw too. I said, I already saw the second one. They said , the second what? I said.....never mind...............pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-85197607937951126672009-04-22T12:59:00.000-07:002009-04-22T13:00:17.040-07:00In Honor of Earth Day<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eScDfYzMEEw&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eScDfYzMEEw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-7961805195580544192009-04-21T07:43:00.001-07:002009-04-21T07:44:22.826-07:00Men and Women<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZsAJeyVBJ2mWgJcXG6Zr_1xEUv5kjeDEB-62RXkrm7I7PupedxWkLELowZBkJ-yGIrLmtCM34u-09oSovL70jkiZ8du3RRpgeoZ0Gopxt2bQOdgRHQtWwaYrKpK-7okcycA6qMaQi4ml/s1600-h/H+and+W.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 120px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZsAJeyVBJ2mWgJcXG6Zr_1xEUv5kjeDEB-62RXkrm7I7PupedxWkLELowZBkJ-yGIrLmtCM34u-09oSovL70jkiZ8du3RRpgeoZ0Gopxt2bQOdgRHQtWwaYrKpK-7okcycA6qMaQi4ml/s400/H+and+W.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327155527110947778" border="0" /></a><br /><span>xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</span><div><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>xxxxxxxxxxxx<br />WOMAN'S PERFECT BREAKFAST<br />She's sitting at the table with her gourmet coffee.<br />Her son is on the cover of the Wheaties box.<br />Her daughter is on the cover of Business Week.<br />Her boyfriend is on the cover of Playgirl.<br />And her husband is on the back of the milk carton.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />WOMEN'S REVENGE<br />"Cash, check or charge?" I asked, after folding items the woman wished to purchase.<br />As she fumbled for her wallet, I noticed a remote control for a television set in her purse.<br />"So, do you always carry your TV remote?" I asked.<br />"No," she replied, "but my husband refused to come shopping with me,<br />and I figured this was the most evil thing I could do to him legally."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />UNDERSTANDING WOMEN<br />(A MAN'S PERSPECTIVE)<br />I know I'm not going to understand women.<br />I'll never understand how you can take boiling hot wax,<br />pour it onto your upper thigh, rip the hair out by the root,<br />and still be afraid of a spider.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br />MARRIAGE SEMINAR<br />While attending a Marriage Seminar dealing with communication,<br />Tom and his wife Grace listened to the instructor,<br />"It is essential that husbands and wives know each other's likes and dislikes."<br />He addressed the man,<br />"Can you name your wife's favorite flower?"<br />Tom leaned over, touched his wife's arm gently and whispered, "It's Pillsbury, isn't it?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br />New Church<br />A newlywed couple were interested in joining a new church so one day they had an appointment with the pastor. The pastor told them that the requirement for joining the church was to abstain from having sex with eachother for one month. The couple agreed and would return after the initiation was completed. Sadly after only 3 weeks the couple came to the pastor with their dilemma.<br />The husband said: "Sorry pastor but we failed the initiation requirement" The pastor asked "Well what happened?" The man replied: "Well the first and second week was easy but then one day she bent over to pick up a hammer and it was all over, I just had to have my way with her right then and there." The pastor then said "I am dissapointed that you can not join our church now" The husband then said: "Yeah I know, and the people at Home Depot aint to happy with us either!"<br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>----<br /><br />WIFE VS. HUSBAND<br />A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word.<br />An earlier discussion had led to an argument and<br />neither of them wanted to concede their position.<br />As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats, and pigs,<br />the husband asked sarcastically, "Relatives of yours?"<br />"Yep," the wife replied, "in-laws."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />WORDS<br />A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day...<br />30,000 to a man's 15,000.<br />The wife replied, "The reason has to be because we have to repeat everything to men..<br />The husband then turned to his wife and asked, "What?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />A man said to his wife one day, "I don't know how you can be<br />so stupid and so beautiful all at the same time.<br />"The wife responded, "Allow me to explain.<br />God made me beautiful so you would be attracted to me;<br />God made me stupid so I would be attracted to you !<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />WHO DOES WHAT<br />A man and his wife were having an argument about who<br />should brew the coffee each morning.<br />The wife said, "You should do it because you get up first,<br />and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee.<br />The husband said, "You are in charge of cooking around here and<br />you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee."<br />Wife replies, "No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible that the man should do the coffee."<br />Husband replies, "I can't believe that, show me."<br />So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him at the top of several pages, that it indeed says ......... "HEBREWS"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br />The Silent Treatment<br />A man and his wife were having some problems at home<br />and were giving each other the silent treatment.<br />Suddenly, the man realized that the next day, he would need his wife to wake him<br />at 5:0 0 AM for an early morning business flight.<br />Not wanting to be the first to break the silence (and LOSE), he wrote on a piece of paper,<br />"Please wake me at 5:00 AM ." He left it where he knew she would find it.<br />The next morning, the man woke up, only to discover it was 9:00 AM and he had missed his flight Furious, he was about to go and see why his wife hadn't wakened him,<br />when he noticed a piece of paper by the bed.<br />The paper said, "It is 5:00 AM . Wake up."<br />Men are not equipped for these kinds of contests.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span> --------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span><span>--------------------------</span><wbr><span class="word_break"></span>--<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />God may have created man before woman, but there is always a rough draft before the masterpiece<br /></div>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-6775438312548385932009-04-17T19:34:00.000-07:002009-04-17T19:36:08.784-07:00AMERICANS-Who are we?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOXtVEj1tB1oBpLQ6OkpI0srFDRmKlswKKp39ykO2x-8OWp_G-_Vy6cL79hBW6PB8S3egvsbl_-hds0a57SxLoYP9-El2X6a4USgZeWNF9isNWqB4uGfWKJEy9AKrS4b-iL4T2FTDXhoz/s1600-h/FLAG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 93px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOXtVEj1tB1oBpLQ6OkpI0srFDRmKlswKKp39ykO2x-8OWp_G-_Vy6cL79hBW6PB8S3egvsbl_-hds0a57SxLoYP9-El2X6a4USgZeWNF9isNWqB4uGfWKJEy9AKrS4b-iL4T2FTDXhoz/s400/FLAG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325854579731841538" border="0" /></a><br />Written by an Australian Dentist <br /><br />To Kill an American<br />You probably missed this in the rush of news, but there was actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper, an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American, any American.<br /><br />So an Australian dentist wrote an editorial the following day to let everyone know what an American is . So they would know when they found one. (Good one, mate!!!!)<br /><br />'An American is English, or French, or Italian, Irish, German, Spanish , Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be Canadian, Mexican, African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Australian, Iranian, Asian, or Arab, or Pakistani or Afghan.<br /><br />An American may also be a Comanche, Cherokee, Osage, Blackfoot, Navaho, Apache, Seminole or one of the many other tribes known as native Americans.<br /><br />An American is Christian , or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim. In fact, there are more Muslims in America than in Afghanistan.The only difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them chooses.<br /><br />An American is also free to believe in no religion. For that he will answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to speak for the government and for God.<br /><br />An American lives in the most prosperous land in the history of the world. <br />The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of Independence , which recognizes the God given right of each person to the pursuit of happiness...<br /><br />An American is generous. Americans have helped out just about every other nation in the world in their time of need, never asking a thing in return..<br /><br /><br />When Afghanistan was over-run by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their country!<br /><br /><br />As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any other nation to the poor in Afghanistan .<br />The national symbol of America , The Statue of Liberty , welcomes your tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the homeless, tempest tossed. These in fact are the people who built America .<br /><br /><br />Some of them were working in the Twin Towers the morning of September 11 , 2001 earning a better life for their families. It's been told that the World Trade Center victims were from at least 30 different countries, cultures, and first languages, including those that aided and abetted the terrorists.<br />So you can try to kill an American if you must. Hitler did. So did General Tojo, and Stalin , and Mao Tse-Tung, and other blood-thirsty tyrants in the world. But, in doing so you would just be killing yourself . Because Americans are not a particular people from a particular place. They are the embodiment of the human spirit of freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American.pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-53160845065623389862009-04-03T13:40:00.000-07:002009-04-03T13:49:37.808-07:00For my Angel<object height="344" width="425">This is for all the good people at Golden Years who will miss you...........I Love You! I am so proud of you and you know why!<br /> Fact of the matter is.....i'm already in Heaven..... (sigh)<param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/R7fy7RXWz84&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/R7fy7RXWz84&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-69563174690372470222009-03-19T22:11:00.000-07:002009-03-19T22:15:15.440-07:00Things go so much easier if you....<object height="344" width="425">Keep it simple<param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BqCvHYkyjVs&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BqCvHYkyjVs&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-49465524423441652042009-03-18T08:21:00.000-07:002009-03-18T08:30:35.047-07:00Why its a good idea to have an Irish Girlfriend.........<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp5OEjugdzvX7bKLLtd1gx_KNKS_OpfEEAklJ3zT5gOfQM36623AuUMN4OrhYOP0uRKzQO5s6vEHIOxf9dNN5-9M-8LOPhqDrWDb_AgNAFGcFnAlzOh9mqVp5VUbWOf3obHHBCa0s4JGX/s1600-h/100_0103.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp5OEjugdzvX7bKLLtd1gx_KNKS_OpfEEAklJ3zT5gOfQM36623AuUMN4OrhYOP0uRKzQO5s6vEHIOxf9dNN5-9M-8LOPhqDrWDb_AgNAFGcFnAlzOh9mqVp5VUbWOf3obHHBCa0s4JGX/s320/100_0103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314548781594788258" border="0" /></a>Homemade fresh baked soda bread, succulent juicy corned beef, warm buttery cabbage, hearty boiled red potatos...............<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5jl8QQbpAXBFLwNT-fqGcaVMmde__0Qa7w2J6IBdjvQcz2d9p4yNhYqG9O8Ih7vMHhiXGlqiOyAttc3bh28aFXtj_nULyLWoWz9J7gDKznZYoGD5Qibj6jUP0-bk9f4bLqBWEh-7A1wg/s1600-h/100_0102.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5jl8QQbpAXBFLwNT-fqGcaVMmde__0Qa7w2J6IBdjvQcz2d9p4yNhYqG9O8Ih7vMHhiXGlqiOyAttc3bh28aFXtj_nULyLWoWz9J7gDKznZYoGD5Qibj6jUP0-bk9f4bLqBWEh-7A1wg/s320/100_0102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314548766425613890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This isnt a meal, its an art-form experience straight out of heaven!!!!<br />All made from loving hands..........<br />Thanx Pixie! <3pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-4548738648853271312009-03-06T16:45:00.000-08:002009-03-06T16:48:07.387-08:00for Janet.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzYOjNgo91GmMnPI2_qu-YtW_8hQ-X9kjaKv39jw_J_5c65eDhTcDg_KR0gyVZ5os6nr_Wpj2C_Ddn73BWxECty4IZ1AKZcbnulbp6V-ZP6adcw3_OBN7Xu9HK2P1SqdF2TDHAVVuh9TJP/s1600-h/SYMPATHY.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzYOjNgo91GmMnPI2_qu-YtW_8hQ-X9kjaKv39jw_J_5c65eDhTcDg_KR0gyVZ5os6nr_Wpj2C_Ddn73BWxECty4IZ1AKZcbnulbp6V-ZP6adcw3_OBN7Xu9HK2P1SqdF2TDHAVVuh9TJP/s400/SYMPATHY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310241193536919154" border="0" /></a><br />It will be the little things<br /> that you will remember,<br /> the quiet moments,<br /> the smiles, the laughter.<br /> And although it may seem<br /> hard right now,<br /> it will be the memories<br /> of these little things<br /> that help to push<br /> away the pain<br /> and bring the smiles<br /> back again.<br /> <br /> With Loving Memories<br />JRpUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-15857923137899856782009-02-17T23:26:00.000-08:002009-02-17T23:33:53.914-08:00Sylphnascency contest entry<object width="425" height="344">Heres my entry for Pixies "Saddest Song in the World" contest<br />which is actually no contest at all since this lil dittys gonna win by a landslide.<br />Bobbys other Smash Hit "Watching Scotty Grow" also got me all choked up<br /><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/59BZxgohr9g&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/59BZxgohr9g&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-7867001308354489462009-02-04T23:43:00.000-08:002009-02-04T23:46:19.887-08:00Hu's on first?<object width="425" height="344">Found this lil tidbit and even though George Dubya is out of the picture, I liked the clever twist they put on an old classic.<param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zfwRb_XKFvA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zfwRb_XKFvA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-46498443357267261722009-01-12T18:57:00.000-08:002009-01-12T19:01:23.519-08:00ABOUT TAXES.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23CNgWpQ95WY0eya8ULepEnO60AIuTcHkezUxwgFg_5vyWNAN6qm-HMCZQHRJpMCHw6MpWnSmOBJjsodVu3Ga7vHof2fs7FgbchIzi5OTFAukbPezDiujFZYZieqaMmugRKBmAWyIrYI3/s1600-h/cash.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 81px; height: 88px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23CNgWpQ95WY0eya8ULepEnO60AIuTcHkezUxwgFg_5vyWNAN6qm-HMCZQHRJpMCHw6MpWnSmOBJjsodVu3Ga7vHof2fs7FgbchIzi5OTFAukbPezDiujFZYZieqaMmugRKBmAWyIrYI3/s400/cash.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290607888098355282" border="0" /></a><br />Tax his land,<br /><br />Tax his bed,<br /><br />Tax the table…<br /><br />At which he's fed.<br /><br />Tax his tractor,<br /><br />Tax his mule,<br /><br />Teach him taxes...<br /><br />Are the rule.<br /><br />Tax his work,<br /><br />Tax his pay,<br /><br />He works for peanuts...<br />Anyway!<br /><br />Tax his cow,<br /><br />Tax his goat,<br /><br />Tax his pants,<br /><br />Tax his coat.<br /><br />Tax his ties,<br /><br />Tax his shirt,<br /><br />Tax his work,<br /><br />Tax his dirt.<br /><br />Tax his tobacco,<br /><br />Tax his drink,<br /><br />Tax him if he…<br />Tries to think.<br /><br />Tax his cigars,<br /><br />Tax his beers,<br /><br />If he cries…<br /><br />Tax his tears.<br /><br />Tax his car,<br /><br />Tax his gas,<br /><br />Find other ways<br /><br />To tax his ass.<br /><br />Tax all he has<br /><br />Then let him know<br /><br />That you won't be done<br /><br />Till he has no dough.<br /><br />When he screams and hollers;<br /><br />Then tax him some more,<br /><br />Tax him till He's good and sore.<br /><br />Then tax his coffin,<br />Tax his grave,<br />Tax the sod in<br />Which he's laid.<br /><br />Put these words<br />Upon his tomb,<br />'Taxes drove me<br />to my doom...'<br /><br />When he's gone,<br />Do not relax,<br />Its time to apply<br />The inheritance tax.<br /><br />Accounts Receivable Tax<br />Building Permit Tax<br />CDL license Tax<br />Cigarette Tax<br />Corporate Income Tax<br />Dog License Tax<br />Excise Taxes<br />Federal Income Tax<br />Federal Unemployment Tax (FUTA)<br />Fishing License Tax<br />Food License Tax<br />Fuel Permit Tax<br />Gasoline Tax (Currently 44.75 cents per gallon)<br />Gross Receipts Tax<br />Hunting License Tax<br />Inheritance Tax<br />Inventory Tax<br />IRS Interest Charges IRS Penalties (tax on top of tax)<br />Liquor Tax<br />Luxury Taxes<br />Marriage License Tax<br />Medicare Tax<br />Personal Property Tax<br />Property Tax<br />Real Estate Tax<br />Service Charge T ax<br />Social Security Tax<br />Road Usage Tax<br />Sales Tax<br />Recreational Vehicle Tax<br />School Tax<br />State Income Tax<br />State Unemployment Tax (SUTA)<br />Telephone Federal Excise Tax<br />Telephone Federal Universal Service Fee Tax<br />Telephone Federal, State and Local Surcharge Taxes<br />Telephone Minimum Usage Surcharge Tax<br />Telephone Recurring and Non-recurring Charges Tax<br />Telephone State and Local Tax<br />Telephone Usage Charge Tax<br />Utility Taxes<br />Vehicle License Registration Tax<br />Vehicle Sales Tax<br />Watercraft Registration Tax<br />Well Permit Tax<br />Workers Compensation Tax<br /><br />Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago, and our nation was the most prosperous in the world.<br /><br />We had absolutely no national debt, had the largest middleclass in the world, and Mom stayed home to raise the kids.<br /><br />What happened? Can you spell 'politicians?'<br /><br />And I still have to 'press 1' for English!?pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-26701179481415725762008-12-27T17:57:00.000-08:002008-12-27T18:03:01.811-08:00THE MOMI was gonna save this for mothers day, but its too good to wait that long for. So here's a lil tribute to all you precious mothers out there!<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KMhuAtyFCrw&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KMhuAtyFCrw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063692499165453278.post-51741887124129192812008-12-22T22:13:00.000-08:002008-12-22T22:14:39.039-08:00Hmmm.....<div id="Title" style="font:bold 13px verdana;width:">Music Video:<a class="hov" style="display:block;width:310px;border:solid 2px black;padding:5px" href="http://www.videocodezone.com/videos/f/funny_videos/3d_animated_sex.html" target="_blank">3D ANIMATED SEX (by Funny Videos)</a><p><embed name="RAOCXplayer" src="http://www.videocodezone.com/videos/f/funny_videos/3d_animated_sex_325234.asx" type="application/x-mplayer2" width="300" height="300" pluginspage="http://www.microsoft.com/Windows/Downloads/Contents/Products/MediaPlayer/" allowscriptaccess="never"></embed> </p> <p style="margin:3px 0px"><a href="http://www.videocodezone.com/" class="ll" target="_blank">Music Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com</a></p> </div>pUnKhAiR2Nvhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07265541802522458953noreply@blogger.com1