
For many years I have been saving all those "really neat" posters and the like. Now it is time to share them with ...... with YOU! I'll be adding more as I can. LOTS to do. Some are not "posters" at all, but are funny or otherwise very enjoyable. At least I think so. Hope you do too.

(verified by the world famous International Institute of Answering Machine Answers)
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My wife and I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and number, we'll get back to you as soon as we're finished.
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Hi. This is John: If you are the phone company, I already sent the money. If you are my parents, please send money. If you are my financial aid institution, you didn't send me enough money. If you are my friends, you owe me money. If you are a female, don't worry, I have plenty of money.
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(Narrator's voice:) There Dale sits, reading a magazine. Suddenly the telephone rings! The bathroom explodes into a veritable maelstrom of toilet paper, with Dale in the middle of it, his arms windmilling at incredible speeds! Will he make it in time? Alas no, his valiant effort is in vain. The bell hath sounded. Thou must leave a message.
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"Hi, I'm not home right now but my answering machine is, so you can talk to it instead. Wait for the beep." "Hello. I am David's answering machine. What are you?"
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(From my Japanese friend in Toronto): He-lo! This is Sa-to. If you leave message, I call you soon. If you leave *sexy* message, I call sooner!
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"Hi! John's answering machine is broken. This is his refrigerator. Please speak very slowly, and I'll stick your message to myself with one of these magnets."
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"Hello, you are talking to a machine. I am capable of receiving messages. My owners do not need siding, windows, or a hot tub, and their carpets are clean. They give to charity through their office and do not need their picture taken. If you're still with me, leave your name and number and they will get back to you."
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"This is not an answering machine - this is a telepathic thought-recording device. After the tone, think about your name, your reason for calling and a number where I can reach you, and I'll think about returning your call."
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"Hi. I am probably home, I'm just avoiding someone I don't like. Leave me a message, and if I don't call back, it's you."
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"If you are a burglar, then we're probably at home cleaning our weapons right now and can't come to the phone. Otherwise, we probably aren't home and it's safe to leave us a message."
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"You're growing tired. Your eyelids are getting heavy. You feel very sleepy now. You are gradually
losing your willpower and your ability to resist suggestions. When you hear the tone you will feel
helplessly compelled to leave your name, number, and a message."

"WE TRAINED HARD....... but it seemed that every time we were beginning to form up into teams we would be reorganized .... I was to learn later in life that we tend to meet any new situation by reorganizing, and a wonderful method it can be for creating the illusion of progress while producing confusion, inefficiency and demoralization." - Petronius Arbiter, 210 B. C.

- You wake up face down on the pavement.
- You call Suicide Prevention and they put you on "hold".
- You put your bra on backwards and it fits better.
- You see a 60-Minute news team waiting in your office.
- Your birthday cake collapses from the weight of the candles.
- Your son tells you he wishes Anita Bryant would mind her own business.
- You want to put on the clothes you wore home from last night's party - and there aren't any.
- You turn on the news and they're showing emergency routes out of town.
- Your twin brother forgets your birthday.
- You wake up to discover that your waterbed broke and then realize you don't have one.
- Your horn goes off accidentally and remains stuck as you follow a a group of Hell's Angels on the freeway.
- Your wife wakes up feeling amorous and you have a headache.

I am writing to thank you for bouncing the check with which I endeavoured to pay my plumber last
month. By my calculations some three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the check,
and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I refer, of course, to the automatic
monthly deposit of my entire salary, an arrangement which, I admit, has only been in place for eight
years.
You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity, and also for debiting my account
with $50 by way of penalty for the inconvenience I caused to your bank. My thankfulness springs from the
manner in which this incident has caused me to re-think my errant financial ways. You have set me on
the path of fiscal righteousness. No more will our relationship be blighted by these unpleasant
incidents, for I am restructuring my affairs in 2000, taking as my model the procedures, attitudes and
conduct of your very own bank. I can think of no greater compliment, and I know you will be excited and
proud to hear it.
To this end, please be advised about the following changes.
First, I have noticed that whereas I personally attend to your telephone calls and letters, when I try
to contact you I am confronted by the impersonal, ever-changing, pre-recorded, faceless entity which
your bank has become.
From now on I, like you, choose only to deal with a flesh and blood person.My mortgage and loan
repayments will, therefore and hereafter, no longer be automatic, but will arrive at your bank, by
cheque, addressed personally and confidentially to an employee of your branch, whom you must nominate.
You will be aware that it is an offense under the Postal Act for any other person to open such an
envelope. Please find attached an Application For Contact Status which I require your chosen employee
to complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know as much about him or her as
your bank knows about me, there is no alternative.
Please note that all copies of his or her medical history must be countersigned by a Justice of the
Peace, and that themandatorydetails of his/her financial situation (income, debts, assets and
liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof. In due courseI will issue your employee with a
PIN number which he/she must quote in all dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 28
digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of button presses required to access my account
balance on your phone bank service.
As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Let me level the playing field even further
by introducing you to my new telephone system, which you will notice, is very much like yours. My
Authorized Contact at your bank, the only person with whom I will have any dealings, may call me at any
time and will be answered by an automated voice. By pressing buttons on the phone, he/she will be
guided thorough an extensive set of menus:
1. To make an appointment to see me;
2. To query a missing repayment;
3. To make a general complaint or inquiry;
4. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there - extension ofliving room to be
communicated at the time the call is received;
5. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am still sleeping; extension of bedroom to be
communicated at the time the call is received;
6. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature; extension of toilet to be
communicated at the time the call is received;
7. To transfer the call to my mobile phone in case I am not at home;
8. To leave a message on my computer. To leave a message a password to access my computer is required.
Password will be communicated at a later date to the contact;
9. To return to the main menu and listen carefully to options 1 through 8 the contact will then be put
on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service.
While this may on occasion involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration. This
month I've chosen a refrain from The Best Of Woody Guthrie: "Oh, the banks are made of marble With a
guard at every door And the vaults are filled with silver, that the miners sweated for!"
After twenty minutes of that, our mutual contact will probably know it by heart.
On a more serious note, we come to the matter of cost. As your bank has often pointed out, the ongoing
drive for greater efficiency comes at a cost - a cost which you have always been quick to pass on to
me. Let me repay your kindness by passing some costs back.
First, there is the matter of advertising material you send me. This I will read for a fee of $20 per
page flyer. Inquiries from your nominated contact will be billed at $5 per minute of my time spent in
response. Any debits to my account, as, for example, in the matter of the penalty for the dishonoured
check, will be passed back to you. My new phone service runs at 75 cents a minute (even Woody Guthrie
doesn't come free), so you would be well advised to keep your inquiries brief and to the point.
Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an establishment fee to cover the
setting up of this new arrangement.
May I wish you a happy, if ever-so-slightly less prosperous, New Year.
Your humble client.

Visitors are encouraged to wear noisy little bells on their clothing so as not to startle bears that
aren't expecting them. It is also suggested that you carry pepper spray in case you encounter a bear.
It is also a good idea to watch for fresh bear activity. You should recognize the difference between
black bear poop and grizzly bear poop.
Black bear poop is smaller and contains a lot of berries and squirrel fur. Grizzly poop has little
bells in it and smells like pepper spray.

Let's take just a quick look at the history of baby-having. For thousands of years, only women had
babies. Primitive women would go off into primitive huts and groan and wail and sweat while other
women hovered around. The primitive men stayed outside doing manly things, such as lifting heavy
objects and spitting.
When the baby was born, the women would clean up as best they could and show it to the men, who would
spit appreciatively and head off to the forest to throw sharp sticks at small animals. If you had
suggested to primitive men that they should actually watch women have babies, they would have laughed
at you and probably tortured you for three or four days. They were real men.
At the beginning of the 20th century, women started having babies in hospital rooms. Often, males were
present, but they were professional doctors who were paid large sums of money and wore masks. Normal
civilian males continued to stay out of the baby-having area; they remained in waiting rooms reading
old copies of Field and Stream, an activity that is less manly than lifting heavy objects but still
reasonably manly.
What I'm getting at is that, for most of history, baby-having was mainly in the hands (so to speak) of
women. Many fine people were born under this system. Charles Lindbergh, for example.
Things changed, though, in the 1970's. The birth rate dropped sharply. Women started going to college
and driving bulldozers and carrying briefcases and freely using such words as debenture. They just
didn't have time to have babies. For a while there, the only people having babies were unwed teen-age
girls, who are very fertile and can get pregnant merely by standing downwind from teen-age boys.
Then, young professional couples began to realize that their lives were missing something - a sense of
stability, of companionship, of responsibility for another life. So they got Labrador retrievers. A
little later, they started having babies again, mainly because of the tax advantages. These days you
can't open your car door without hitting a pregnant woman. But there's a catch; Women now expect men to
watch them have babies. This is called "Natural Childbirth", which is one of those terms that sounds
terrific but that nobody really understands. Another one is "Ph balanced".
At first, natural childbirth was popular only with hippy-type, granola oriented couples who lived in
majestic domes and named their babies things like Peace, Love, World, Understanding, and
Harrington-Schwartz. The males, their brains badly corroded by drugs and organic food, wrote articles
about what a Meaningful Experience it is to see a New Life Come Into The World. None of these articles
mentioned the various fluids and solids that come into the world with the New Life, so people got the
impression that watching somebody have a baby was a bushel of meaningful fun. At cocktail parties,
you'd run into natural - childbirth converts who would drone on for hours, giving you a contraction -
by - contraction account of what went on in the delivery room. They were worse than Moonies, or people
who tell you how much they bought their houses for in 1973 and how much they're worth today.
Before long, natural childbirth was everywhere, like salad bars; and now, perfectly innocent civilian
males all over the country are required by federal law to watch females have babies.
Back in 1967, Canada's Centennial year, we decided on a Centennial Project: Dave. First we had to go to
10 evening childbirth classes at the hospital. Before the classes, the hospital staff told us,
mysteriously, to bring two pillows. This was the first humiliation, because we had only two
pillowcases, and both had cranberry juice stains. It may be possible to walk down the streets of Kuala
Lumpur with stained, unmatched pillowcases and still feel dignified, but this is not possible in Grande
Prairie.
Anyway, we showed up for the first class, along with about 15 other couples, consisting of women who
were going to have babies, and men who were going to have to watch them. They all had matching
pillowcases. In fact, some couples had obviously purchased tasteful pillowcases especially for
childbirth class; these were planning to have wealthy babies. They sat together through all the
classes, and eventually agreed to get together for brunch.
The classes consisted of sitting in a brightly lit room and openly discussing various parts of the
human female anatomy. Now I can remember a time, in high school, when I would have killed for reliable
information about these matters. The instructor told us all about the spermatozoa which are tiny, very
tupid, one-celled organisms. They look all over for an ovum, but most of them would recognize one if
they tripped over one. They swim around for days, trying to mate with the pancreas or whatever other
organs they stumble into. Eventually, though, one bumps into an ovum and the happy couple parades down
fallopian drive and becomes a baby. They showed us actual pictures of a baby before birth. They didn't
tell us how these pictures were taken, but I suspect that it involved a great deal of drinking.
One evening we saw a movie of a woman we didn't even know, having a baby. No kidding. Some woman
actually let some moviemakers film the whole thing. In colour. Another time, the instructor announced,
in the tone of voice you might use to tell people that they had just won a free trip to the Bahamas,
that we were going to see colour slides of a Caesarean section. The first slides showed a pregnant
woman cheerfully entering the hospital. The last slides showed her cheerfully holding a baby. The
middle slides showed how they got the baby out of the cheerful woman, but can't give you a lot of
detail because I had to go out for 15 or 20 drinks of water.
When we weren't looking at pictures we practiced breathing. This is where the pillows came in. What
happens is that when the baby gets ready to come, the woman goes through a series of what the medical
community laughingly refers to as "contractions". If it referred to them as "horrible pains that make
you wonder why you ever decided to get pregnant", people might stop having babies and the medical
community would have to go into the major appliance business.
In the old days, under Prime Minister Diefenbaker, doctors avoided the contraction problem by giving
lots of drugs to women who were having babies. They'd knock them out during the delivery, and the woman
would wake up when their kids were entering the fourth grade. But the idea with natural childbirth is
to try to avoid giving the woman a lot of drugs, so she can share the first, intimate moments after
birth with the baby and the father and the obstetrician and the pediatrician and the standby
anesthesiologist and several nurses and the person who cleans the delivery room.
The key to avoiding drugs, according to the natural childbirth people is for the woman to breathe
deeply. Really. The theory is that if she breathes deeply, she'll get all relaxed and won't notice that
she's in a hospital delivery room wearing a truly perverted garment and having a baby. I'm not sure who
came up with this theory. Whoever it was evidently believed that women have very small brains.
So, in childbirth classes, we spent a lot of time sprawled on these little mats with our pillows while
the women pretended to have contractions and men squatted around with stopwatches and pretended to time
them. The Main Line couples didn't care for this part. They were into bringing little backgammon sets
and playing backgammon when they were supposed to be practicing breathing. I imagine they had a rough
time in actual childbirth, unless they got the servants to have the contractions for them.
Anyway, my wife and I went along for months, breathing and timing, respectively. We had no problem
whatsoever. We were a terrific team. We had a swell time, really.
The actual delivery was slightly more difficult. I don't want to name names, but I held up my end. I had
my stopwatch in good working order and I told my wife to breathe. "Don't forget to breathe", or "You
should breathe, you know." She, on the other hand, was unusually cranky. For example, she didn't want
me to use my stopwatch. Can you imagine? All that practice, all that squatting on the natural childbirth
classroom floor, and she suddenly gets into this big snit about stopwatches. Also, she almost
completely lost her sense of humour. At one point, I made an especially amusing remark, and she tried
to hit me. She usually has an excellent sense of humour.
None the less, Dave came out alright, or at least alright for a newborn baby. I thought I had held up
well for the whole thing when the doctor, who up to then had behaved like a perfectly rational person,
said "Would you like to see the placenta?" Now let's face it: that is like asking, "Would you like me
to pour hot tar into your nostrils?" Nobody would like to see a placenta. If anything, it would be form
of cruel and unusual punishment. Without waiting for an answer, the doctor held up the placenta, not
unlike the way you might hold up a bowling trophy. I bet he wouldn't have tried that with the people
with matching pillowcases.
The placenta aside, everything worked out fine. We ended up with an extremely healthy, organic, natural
baby who immediately demanded to be put back.
All in all, I'd say it's not a bad way to reproduce, although I understand that some members of the
flatworm family simply divide into two.

1. More than 98 percent of convicted felons are bread users.
2. Fully HALF of all children who grow up in bread-consuming households score below average on
standardized tests.
3. In the 18th century, when virtually all bread was baked in the home, the average life expectancy was
less than 50 years; infant mortality rates were unacceptably high; many women died in childbirth; and
diseases such as typhoid, yellow fever, and influenza ravaged whole nations.
4. Every piece of bread you eat brings you nearer to death.
5. Bread is associated with all the major diseases of the body. For example, nearly all sick people have
eaten bread. The effects are obviously cumulative:
99.9% of all people who die from cancer have eaten bread.
100% of all soldiers have eaten bread.
96.9% of all Communist sympathizers have eaten bread.
99.7% of the people involved in air and auto accidents ate bread within 6 months preceding the accident.
93.1% of juvenile delinquents came from homes where bread is served frequently.
6. Evidence points to the long-term effects of bread eating: Of all the people born since 1839 who
later dined on bread, there has been a 100% mortality rate.
7. Bread is made from a substance called "dough." It has been proven that as little as a teaspoon of
dough can be used to suffocate a lab rat. The average American eats more bread than that in one day!
8. Primitive tribal societies that have no bread exhibit a low incidence of cancer, Alzheimer's,
Parkinson's disease, and osteoporosis.
9. Bread has been proven to be addictive. Subjects deprived of bread and given only water to eat begged
for bread after as little as two days.
10. Bread is often a "gateway" food item, leading the user to "harder" items such as butter, jelly,
peanut butter, and even cold cuts.
11. Bread has been proven to absorb water. Since the human body is more than 90 percent water, it
follows that eating bread could lead to your body being taken over by this absorptive food product,
turning you into a soggy, gooey bread-pudding person.
12. Newborn babies can choke on bread.
13. Bread is baked at temperatures as high as 400 degrees Fahrenheit! That kind of heat can kill an
adult in less than one minute.
14. Most bread eaters are utterly unable to distinguish between significant scientific fact and
meaningless statistical babbling.
In light of these frightening statistics, we propose the following bread restrictions:
1. No sale of bread to minors.
2. A nationwide "Just Say No To Toast" campaign, complete celebrity TV spots and bumper stickers.
3. A 300 percent federal tax on all bread to pay for all the societal ills we might associate with bread.
4. No animal or human images, nor any primary colors (which may appeal to children) may be used to
promote bread usage.
5. The establishment of "Bread-free" zones around schools.

This is a Whatchamacallit, or a Gizmo or a GrappelGrommet or a Filbertflange or whatever. I saw Adam
on Mythbusters with one so I had to make one:




This machine is subject to breakdowns during periods of critical need.
A special circuit in the machine called a 'critical detector' senses the operator's emotional state in
terms of how desperate he or she is to use the machine.
The 'critical detector' then creates a malfunction proportional to the desperation of the operator.
Threatening the machine with violence only aggravates the situation.
Likewise, attempts to use another machine may cause it to also malfunction. They belong to the same
union.
Keep cool and say nice things to the machine.
Nothing else seems to work.
Never let anything mechanical know you are in a hurry!


Well, this day was a total waste of makeup.
Make yourself at home! Clean my kitchen.
Who are these kids and why are they calling me Mom?
Don't bother me. I'm living happily ever after.
This isn't an office. It's Hell with fluorescent lighting.
I started out with nothing & still have most of it left.
I pretend to work. They pretend to pay me.
If I throw a stick, will you leave?
You! Off my planet!
Therapy is expensive, poppin' bubble wrap is cheap! You choose.
Practice random acts of intelligence & senseless acts of self-control.
Bottomless pit of needs & wants.
I like cats, too. Let's exchange recipes.
Friendly checkout clerk. Thanks for keeping me that way!
If I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet, I'll put shoes on my cat.
Does your train of thought have a caboose?
Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe?
Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.
Let me show you how the guards used to do it.
And your crybaby whiny-assed opinion would be...?
I'm not crazy, I've just been in a very bad mood for 30 years.
If only you'd use your powers for good instead of evil...
See no evil, hear no evil, date no evil.
A PBS mind in an MTV world.
Allow me to introduce my selves.
Sarcasm is just one more service we offer.
Whisper my favorite words: "I'll buy it for you."
Better living through denial.
Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.
Suburbia: where they tear out the trees & then name streets after them.
Adult child of alien invaders.
Do they ever shut up on your planet?
I'm just working here till a good fast-food job opens up.
Are those your eyeballs? I found them in my cleavage.
I'm not your type. I'm not inflatable.
I'm trying to imagine you with a personality.
A cubicle is just a padded cell without a door.
Stress is when you wake up screaming & you realize you haven't fallen asleep yet.
Here I am! Now what are your other two wishes?
Back off! You're standing in my aura.
I can't remember if I'm the good twin or the evil one.
Don't worry. I forgot your name, too!
Adults are just kids who owe money.
One of us is thinking about sex... OK, it's me.
How many times do I have to flush before you go away?
I just want revenge. Is that so wrong?
I work 40 hours a week to be this poor.
You say I'm a bitch like it's a bad thing.
Can I trade this job for what's behind door #2?
Macho Law forbids me from admitting I'm wrong.
Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it?
Not all men are annoying. Some are dead.
Too may freaks, not enough circuses.
Chaos, panic, & disorder - my work here is done.
Ambivalent? Well, yes and no.
You look like shit. Is that the style now?
Everyone thinks I'm psychotic, except for my friends deep inside the earth.
Earth is full. Go home.
Is it time for your medication or mine?
Did I mention the kick in the groin you'll be receiving if you touch me?
I plead contemporary insanity.
And which dwarf are you?
I refuse to star in your psychodrama.
I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted paychecks.
How do I set a laser printer to stun?
I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.


JERRY FALWELL:
Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your
face? The chicken was going to the "otherside." That's what "they" call it the "other side." Yes, my
friends,that chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott
all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly
harmless phrases like "the other side." That chicken should not be free to cross the road. It's as
plain and simple as that.
KEN STARR:
I intend to prove that the chicken crossed the road at the behest of the president of the United States
of America in an effort to distract law enforcement officials and the American public from the criminal
wrongdoing our highest elected official has been trying to cover up. As a result, the chicken is just
another pawn in the president's ongoing and elaborate scheme to obstruct justice and undermine the rule
of law. For that reason, my staff intends to offer the chicken unconditional immunity provided he
cooperates fully with our investigation. Furthermore, the chicken will not be permitted to reach the
other side of the road until our investigation and any Congressional follow-up investigations have been
completed. (We also are investigating whether Sid Blumenthal has leaked information to the Rev. Jerry
Falwell, alleging the chicken to be homosexual in an effort to discredit any useful testimony the bird
may have to offer, or at least to ruffle his feathers.)
PAT BUCHANAN:
To steal a job from a decent, hardworking American.
DR. SEUSS:
Did the chicken cross the road?
Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes! The chicken crossed the road,
but why it crossed, I've not been told!
ERNEST HEMINGWAY:
To die. In the rain.
MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.:
I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called
into question. Free range at last, free range at last.
GRANDPA:
In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed the
road, and that was good enough for us.
ARISTOTLE:
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
KARL MARX:
It was a historically inevitable.
SADDAM HUSSAIN:
This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on
it.
RONALD REAGAN:
What chicken?
CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK:
To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
FOX MULDER:
You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many more chickens have to cross before you believe it?
FREUD:
The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual
insecurity.
BILL GATES:
I have just released eChicken98, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important
documents, and balance your checkbook-and Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.
EINSTEIN:
Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?
BILL CLINTON:
I never crossed the road with that chicken. What do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken
please? Could you define road? And what do you mean exactly by crossed?
LOUIS FARRAKHAN:
The road, you will see, represents the black man. The chicken crossed the "black man" in order to
trample him and keep the brother down.
COLONEL SANDERS:
I missed one?

Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something
positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better,
I would be twins!" He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around
from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He
was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how
to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I
went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. "How
do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two choices
today.You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood. 'I choose to be in a
good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from
it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their
complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life." "Yeah,
right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you
cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose
how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's
your choice how you live life." I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant
industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but often thought about him when I made a choice
about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are
never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at
gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness,
slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively
quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care,
Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry about
six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd
be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his
mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have
locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two
choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live. "Weren't you scared? Did
you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I
was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the
faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man." I knew
I needed to take action." "What did you do?" I asked."Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting
questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors
and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!'
Over their laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead."
Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned
from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.
Kwok Lee

One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip, but
there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the
toys as fast as the regular ones, so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more. When he
went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth, and two had
jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress. Then when he began to load the sleigh,
one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys.
So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to
the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hid the liquor and there was nothing to drink.
Just then, the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door. He opened the door, and there was
a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said, very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas
Santa. Isn't it just a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Isn't it just a lovely tree? Where
would you like me to stick it?"
Thus began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.



Aussies: Dislike being mistaken for Pommies (Brits) when abroad.
Canadians: Are rather indignant about being mistaken for Americans when abroad.
Americans: Encourage being mistaken for Canadians when abroad.
Brits: Can't possibly be mistaken for anyone else when abroad.
Aussies: Believe you should look out for your mates.
Brits: Believe that you should look out for those people who belong to your club.
Americans: Believe that people should look out for and take care of themselves.
Canadians: Believe that that's the government's job.
Aussies: Are extremely patriotic to their beer.
Americans: Are flag-waving, anthem-singing, and obsessively patriotic to the point of blindness.
Canadians: Can't agree on the words to their anthem, when they can be bothered to sing them.
Brits: Do not sing at all but prefer a large brass band to perform the anthem.
Americans: Spend most of their lives glued to the idiot box.
Canadians: Don't, but only because they can't get more American channels.
Brits: Pay a tax just so they can watch four channels
Aussies: Export all their crappy programs, which no-one there watches, to Britain, where everybody loves them.
Americans: Will jabber on incessantly about football, baseball, and basketball.
Brits: Will jabber on incessantly about cricket, soccer, and rugby.
Canadians: Will jabber on incessantly about hockey, hockey, hockey, hockey, and how they beat the
Americans twice, playing baseball.
Aussies: Will jabber on incessantly about how they beat the Poms in every sport they play them in.
Americans: Spell words differently, but still call it "English".
Brits: Pronounce their words differently, but still call it "English".
Canadians: Spell like the Brits, pronounce like Americans.
Aussies: Add "G'day", "mate" and a heavy accent to everything they say in an attempt to get laid.
Brits: Shop at home and have goods imported because they live on an island.
Aussies: Shop at home and have goods imported because they live on an island.
Americans: Cross the southern border for cheap shopping, gas, liquor in a backwards country.
Canadians: Cross the southern border for cheap shopping, gas, liquor in a backwards country.
Americans: Drink weak, pissy-tasting beer.
Canadians: Drink strong, pissy-tasting beer.
Brits: Drink warm, beery-tasting piss.
Aussies: Drink anything with alcohol in it.
Americans: Seem to think that poverty and failure are morally suspect.
Canadians: Seem to believe that wealth and success are morally suspect.
Brits: Seem to believe that wealth, poverty, success and failureare inherited things.
Aussies: Seem to think that none of this matters after several beers.

GO PLACIDLY AMID THE NOISE HASTE, REMEMBER WHAT PEACE THERE
MAY BE IN SILENCE. As far as possible without surrender be on good
terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly clearly; and
listen to others, even the dull ignorant; they too have their
story. * Avoid loud aggressive persons, they are vexations to the
spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain bitter; for always there will be
greater lesser persons than
yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. * Keep
interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession
in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business
affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you
to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and
everywhere life is full of heroism. * Be yourself. Especially, do not
feign affection. Neither be cynical about love for in the face of all
aridity disenchantment it is perennial as the grass. * Take
kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of
youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of
fatigue loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with
yourself. * You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees
& the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is
clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. *
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and
whatever your labors aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life
keep peace with your soul. * With all its sham, drudgery broken
dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.
Found in Old Saint Paul’s Church, Baltimore, dated 1692

I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said. You told me not to
drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead. I really felt proud inside, Mom,
the way you said I would. I didn't drink and drive, Mom, even though
the others said I should. I know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you
are always right. Now the party is finally ending, Mom, as everyone is
driving out of sight.
As I got into my car, Mom, I knew I'd get home in one piece. Because of
the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet. I started to drive
away, Mom, but as I pulled out into the road, the other car didn't see
me, Mom, and hit me like a load. As I lay there on the pavement, Mom, I
hear the policeman say, the other guy is drunk, Mom, and now I'm the
one who will pay. I'm lying here dying, Mom. I wish you'd get here soon.
How could this happen to me, Mom? My life just burst like a balloon.
There is blood all around me, Mom, and most of it is mine. I hear the
medic say, Mom, I'll die in a short time. I just wanted to tell you,
Mom, I swear I didn't drink. It was the others, Mom. The others didn't
think. He was probably at the same party as I. The only difference is,
he drank and I will die.
Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life. I'm feeling
sharp pains now. Pains just like a knife. The guy who hit me is
walking, Mom, and I don't think it's fair. I'm lying here dying and all
he can do is stare. Tell my brother not to cry, Mom. Tell Daddy to be
brave. And when I go to heaven, Mom, put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave.
Someone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive. If only they
had told him, Mom, I would still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter, Mom. I'm becoming very scared. Please
don't cry for me, Mom. When I needed you, you were always there. I have
one last question, Mom, before I say good bye. I didn't drink and
drive, so why am I the one to die?

1. Silence, the Final Frontier: Where No Woman Has Gone Before.
2. The Undiscovered Side of Banking: Making Deposits.
3. Combating the Imelda Marcos Syndrome: You Do Not Need New Shoes Everyday.
4. Parties: Going Without New Outfits.
5. Man Management: Discover How Minor Household Chores Can Wait Until After the Game.
6. Bathroom Etiquette I: Men Need Space in the Bathroom Cabinet Too.
7. Bathroom Etiquette II: His Razor Is His.
8. Valuation: Just Because It's Not Important to You...
9. Communication Skills I: Tears-The Last Resort, Not the First.
10. Communication Skills II: Thinking Before Speaking.
11. Communication Skills III: Getting What You Want, Without Nagging.
12. Driving a Car Safely: A Skill You CAN Acquire.
13. Party Etiquette: Drinking Your Fair Share.
14. Telephone Skills: How to Hang Up.
15. Introduction to Parking.
16. Advanced Parking: Reversing Into A Space.
17. Overcoming Anal Retentive Behavior: Leaving the Towels on theFloor.
18. Water retention: Fact or Fat.
19. Cooking I: Bringing Back Bacon, Eggs and Butter.
20. Cooking II: Bran and Tofu are Not For Human Consumption.
21. Cooking III: How Not to Inflict Your Diets on Other People.
22. Compliments: Accepting Them Gracefully.
23. PMS: Your Problem . . .Not His.
24. Dancing: Why Men Don't Like To.
25. Sex-It's For Married Couples Too.
26. Classic Clothing: Wearing Outfits You Already Have.
27. Household Dust: A Harmless Natural Occurrence Only Women Notice.
28. Integrating Your Laundry: Washing It All Together.
29. Ballet: For Women Only.
30. Oil and Gas: Your Car Needs Both.
31. Learning to "Go" in Public Restrooms.
32. Appreciating the Humor of the Three Stooges.
33. "Do These Jeans Make My Butt Look Big?"-Why Men Lie.
34. TV Remotes: For Men Only.
35. Sexy Lingerie For Any Occasion.

SELF IMPROVEMENT:
SE100: Creative Suffering
SE101: Overcoming Peace of Mind
SE102: You and Your Birthmark
SE103: Guilt without Sex
SE104: The Primal Shrug
SE105: Ego Gratification Through Violence
SE106: Molding Your Child's Behavior Through Guilt and Fear
SE107: Dealing with Post-Realization Depression
SE108: Whine your Way to Alienation
SE109: How to Overcome Self-Doubt Through Pretense
BUSINESS & CAREER:
BC101: How I Made $100 in Real Estate
BC102: Money Can Make You Rich
BC103: Packaging and Selling your child
BC104: Career Opportunities in El Salvador
BC105: How to Profit From Your own Body
BC106: The Under-achievers' Guide to Very Small Business
BC107: Tax Shelters for the Indigent
BC108: The Looters' Guide to Canadian Cities
BC109: Mortgage Reduction Through Arson
HEALTH:
HS201: Creative Tooth Decay
HS202: Exorcism and Acne
HS203: The Joys of Hypochondria
HS204: Advanced Pubic Hair Styling
HS205: Skate yourself to Regularity
HS206: Understanding Nudity
HS207: Tap Dance Your Way to Social Ridicule
HS208: Optional Body Functions
HS209: Dressing Right, Dressing Left, How it Can Change Your Life
HS210: Braille and the Female Anatomy
CRAFTS:
C101: Self-Actualization Through Macrame
C102: Gifts for the Senile
C103: Bonsai Your Pet
C104: Needlecraft for Junkies
C105: Drawing Genitalia
C106: Cuticle Crafts
HOME ECONOMICS:
EC401: Converting Your Electrolux to a Fully Automatic Rifle
EC402: Burglarproof Your Home With Concrete
EC403: Convert Your Family Room into a Garage
EC404: Sinus Drainage at Home
EC405: Basic Kitchen Taxidermy
EC406: 1001 Uses for Your Vaccuum
EC407: Tell them What to do With It
EC408: Repair & Maintenance of Your Self Respect
EC409: Convert your Wheelchair into a Dune Buggy
EC410: Karate and the Art of R.V. Maintenance

MONDAY
Start by anticipating a great week. The practice of anticipation
stimulates zest and the zestful person always has energy going for him.
TUESDAY
Energy sags when you thoughts sag, so on this second day pull your
thoughts up to the enthusiasm level and hold them there. How to do
this? Simply act enthusiastic and you will tend to be so.
WEDNESDAY
Today firmly cope with two attitudes which siphon off energy; worry and
frustration. To cancel them out, think faith, practice faith, affirm
faith. Replace negative with positive thoughts.
THURSDAY
Pray away the "gray sickness"; that half-awake, half-asleep,
half-alive, half-dead feeling that sometimes comes to destroy our
energy and force. Pray and act upon alive-type prayers of excitement,
joy and gratitude.
FRIDAY
Remind yourself that as a child of God, you are the constant recipient
of boundless life, health, energy and vitality. Visualize yourself as
continually being re-created in body, mind and spirit.
SATURDAY
Today practice the art of slowing down. Relax and try getting yourself
into the even rhythm of God who created you. Let life's basic tempo
take over. Drop out worry and tension.
SUNDAY
Go to church. For "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their
strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and
not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint."
-Norman Vincent Peale

1. Verbs HAS to agree with their subjects.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
4. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
5. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
6. Also, always avoid annoying alliteration.
7. Be more or less specific.
8. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are (usually) unnecessary.
9. Also too, never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
10. No sentence fragments.
11. Contractions aren't necessary and shouldn't be used.
12. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
13. Do not be redundant; do not use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. One should NEVER generalize.
15. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
16. Don't use no double negatives.
17. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be ignored.
21. Eliminate commas, that are, not necessary. Parenthetical words however should be enclosed in commas.
22. Never use a big word when substituting a diminutive one would suffice.
23. Kill all exclamation points!!!
24. Use words correctly, irregardless of how others use them.
25. Understatement is always the absolute best way to put forth earth-shaking ideas.
26. Use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed.
27. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "I hate quotations. Tell me what youknow."
28. If you've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: Resist
hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly.
29. Puns are for children, not groan readers.
30. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
31. Even IF a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
32. Who needs rhetorical questions?
33. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
34. Avoid "buzz-words"; such integrated transitional scenarios complicate simplistic matters.
And finally...
35. Proofread carefully to see if you a

T'was the night before finals,
And all through the college,
Students were praying
For last-minute knowledge.
Most were quite sleepy,
But none touched their beds,
While visions of essays
Danced through their heads.
Out in the taverns,
A few were still drinking,
And hoping that liquor
Would loosen their thinking.
In my own apartment,
I had been pacing,
And dreading exams
I soon would be facing.
My roomate was speechless,
His nose in his books,
And my comments to him
Drew unfriendly looks.
I drained all the coffee,
And brewed a new pot,
No longer caring
That my nerves were all shot
I stared at my notes,
But my thoughts were all muddy,
My eyes went ablur,
I just couldn't study.
"Some pizza might help,"
I said with a shiver,
But each place I called
Refused to deliver
I'd nearly concluded
That life was too cruel,
With futures depending
On grades had in school
When all of a sudden,
Our door opened wide,
And our Patron Saint
Pull It Off Ambled inside.
His spirit was careless,
His manner was mellow,
He sprawled on my bed
And started to bellow:
"What kind of student
Would make such a fuss
To toss back at teachers
What they tossed at us?
"On Cliff's Notes
On last year's exams
On Wingit and Slingit
And last minute crams!"
His message delivered,
He vanished from sight
But we heard him laughing
Outside in the night
"Your teachers have pegged you,
So just do your best
Happy Finals to All,
And to all a good test!

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong.
Keep skunks and bankers and lawyers at a distance.
Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.
A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.
Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled.
Meanness don't just happen overnight.
Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads.
Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.
It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.
You cannot unsay a cruel word.
Every path has a few puddles.
When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.
The best sermons are lived, not preached.
Most of the stuff people worry about isn't never going happen anyway.
Don't judge folks by their relatives.
Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
Live a good, honorable life Then when you get older and think back, you'll enjoy it a second time.
Don't interfere with something that isn't bothering you none.
Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.
If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.
Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.
The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every morning.
Always drink upstream from the herd.
Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.
Letting the cat out of the bag is a whole lot easier than putting it back in.
If you get to thinking you're a person of some influence, try ordering somebody else's dog around.
Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.


1. A particular model year of car wouldn't be available until AFTER that year, instead of before.
2. Every time they repainted the lines on the road, you'd have to buy a new car.
3. Occasionally your car would just die for no reason, and you'd have to restart it. For some strange
reason, you would just accept this.
4. You could only have one person at a time in your car, unless you bought a car'95 or car NT, but then
you'd have to buy more seats.
5. You would be constantly pressured to upgrade your car... Wait a sec, it's that way NOW!
6. Sun Motorsystems would make a car that was solar powered, twice as reliable, 5 times as fast, but
only ran on 5% of the roads.
7. The oil, alternator, gas, engine warning lights would be replaced with a single "GeneralCar Fault"
warning light.
8. People would get excited about the "new" features in Microsoft cars, forgetting completely that they
had been available in other brands for years.
9. We would still be waiting on the "6000 sux 58'" model to come out.
10. We'd all have to switch to Microsoft Gas (tm).
11. Lee Iacocca would be hired-on as Bill G.'s chauffeur.
12. The US government would be GETTING subsidies from an automaker, instead of GIVING them.
13. New seats will force everyone to have the same size butt.
14. Ford, General Motors and Chrysler would all be complaining because Microsoft was putting a radio in
all its models.

Dateline: Firebringer News Service (FBNS)
Experts warned today of a new and deadly threat to our beleaguered civilization: the 100GB Bug.
As most people know, McDonald's restaurant signs show the number of hamburgers the giant chain has
sold. That number now stands at 99 billion burgers, or 99 Gigaburgers (GB). Within months or even
weeks, that number will roll over to 100GB.
McDonald's signs, however, were designed years ago, when the prospect of selling one hundred billion
hamburgers seemed unthinkably remote. So the signs have only two decimal places.
This means that, after the sale of the 100 billionth burger, McDonald's signs will read "00 Billion
Burgers Sold." This, experts predict, will convince the public that, in over thirty years, no
McDonald's hamburgers have ever in fact been sold, causing a complete collapse of consumer confidence
in McDonald's products.
The ensuing catastrophic drop in sales is seen as almost certain to force the already-troubled company
into bankruptcy. This, in turn, will push the teetering American economy over the brink, which,
finally, will complete the total devastation of the global economy, ending civilization as we know it,
and forcing us all to live on beetles.
"The people who know---the sign-makers---are really scared of 100GB," one expert said. "I don't know
about you, but I'm digging up a copy of THE FIELD GUIDE TO NORTH AMERICAN INSECTS and heading for the
hills.

Dear God,
Did you mean for the giraffe to look like that or was it an accident?
Norma
Dear God,
Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why don't you just keep the ones you have now?
Jane
Dear God,
Who draws the lines around the countries?
Dan
Dear God,
I went to this wedding and they kissed right in church. Is that okay?
Neil
Dear God,
Thank you for my baby brother, but what I prayed for was a puppy.
Joyce
Dear God,
It rained for our whole vacation and is my father mad! He said some things about you that people are
not supposed to say, but I hope you will not hurt him anyway.
Your friend (but I am not going to tell you who I am)
Dear God,
Please send me a pony.I never asked for anything before. You can look it up.
Bruce
Dear God,
If we come back as something, please don't let me be Jennifer Horton, because I hate her.
Denise
Dear God,
I want to be just like my daddy when I get big, but not with so much hair all over.
Sam
Dear God,
I think about you sometimes, even when I'm not praying.
Elliott
Dear God,
I bet it is very hard for you to love all the people in the world. There are only four people in our
family and I can never do it.
Nan
Dear God,
Of all the people who worked for you, I like Noah and David the best.
Rob
Dear God,
My brothers told me about being born, but it doesn't sound right. They are just kidding, aren't they?
Marsha
Dear God,
If you watch me in church Sunday, I'll show you my new shoes.
Mickey
Dear God,
We read Thomas Edison made light.But in Sunday school, we learned that you did it.So I bet he stole
your idea.
Sincerely,
Donna
Dear God,
I do not think anybody could be a better God. Well, I just want you to know that I am not just saying
this because you are God already.
Charles
Dear God,
I didn't think orange went with purple until I saw the sunset you made on Tuesday.That was cool!
Eugene
Dear God,
Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so much if they had their own rooms.It works with my
brother.
Larry

If you open it, close it.
If you turn it on, turn it off.
If you unlock it, lock it up.
If you break it, admit it and replace it.
If you borrow it, return it (books, tapes, disks too!)
If you value it, take care of it.
If you make a mess, clean it up.
If you move it, put it back.
If it belongs to someone else and you want to use it, get permission.
If you don't know how to operate it, leave it alone.
If it's none of your business, don't ask questions.
If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

I AM NOT IN THIS WORLD TO LIVE UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS, AND YOU ARE NOT IN THIS WORLD TO LIVE UP TO
MINE.
I DO MY THING, AND YOU DO YOUR THING.
IF, BY CHANCE, WE SHOULD MEET, IT'S BEAUTIFUL.
IF NOT, PERHAPS BOTH OF US SHOULD TRY HARDER.

If you can start the day without caffeine,
If you can get going without pep pills,
If you can always be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,
If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,
If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,
If you can understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time,
If you can forgive a friend's lack of consideration,
If you can overlook it when those you love take it out on you when, through no fault of yours,
something goes wrong,
If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,
If you can ignore a friend's limited education, and never correct him,
If you can resist treating a rich friend better than a poor one,
If you face the world without lies and deceit,
If you can conquer tension without medical help,
If you can live without the crutch of nicotine,
If you can relax without liquor,
If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,
If you can say, honestly, deep in your heart, that you have no prejudice against creed or colour,
religion or politics...
Then, my friend, you are ALMOST as good as your dog, almost, but not quite,
Because besides not having any of your hangups and vices, he would, without hesitation, give up his
life for you if need be.

Sometime, when you're feeling important,
Sometime, when your ego's in bloom,
Sometime, when you take it for granted,
You're the best qualified in the room.
Sometime when you feel that your going,
Would leave an unfillable hole
Just follow this simple instruction,
And see how it humbles your soul.
Take a bucket and fill it with water,
Put your hand in it, up to the wrist;
Pull it out, and the hole that's remaining
Is a measure of how you'll be missed.
You may splash all you please when you enter,
You can stir up the water galore,
But stop, and you'll find in a minute
That it looks quite the same as before.
The moral of this quaint example
Is do just the best that you can.
Be proud of yourself, but remember,
There's no indispensable man.

The Lineage Revealed
Many people are at a loss for a response when someone says, "You don't know Jack Schitt." Now you can
handle the situation.
Jack is the only son of Awe Schitt and 0. Schitt.
Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married 0. Schitt, the owner of Knee-deep Schitt, Inc. In turn,
Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt and the deeply religious couple produced 6 children:
Holie Schitt, the twins: Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Giva Schitt and Bull Schitt, a high
school dropout. After being married for 15 years Jack and Noe divorced. Noe later married Mr. Sherlock
and because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name. She was known as Noe
Schitt-Sherlock.
Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt and they produced a cowardly son, Chicken Schitt. Fulla Schitt and Giva
chitt were inseparable throughout childhood, and consequently married the Happens brothers in a dual
ceremony. The Schitt-Happens children are Dawg, Byrd, and Horse. Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left
home to tour the world. He recently returned with his new bride, Pisa Schitt.
Now, when someone says you don't know Jack Schitt, you can correct them.

Do not sell knowledge short: in addition to strong intuitions and insights you need a frame of
reference against which to measure them. You can obtain this by learning something new every day.
Knowledge on all sorts of subjects, even those quite foreign to your job, is useful in your
professional growth.
This means work. Every reputation for efficiency was built by work. Self-development is not a highly
formalized activity like classroom education, but one sparked by you and carried out through reading,
attending extension classes and lectures, and taking part in community projects.

We have not succeeded in answering all your problems. The answers we have found only serve to raise a whole set of new questions. In some ways we feel we are as confused as ever, but we believe we are confused on a higher level and about more important things.

1000 A.D. - That root is heathen. Here, say this prayer.
1850 A.D. - That prayer is superstition. Here, drink this potion.
1940 A.D. - That potion is snake oil. Here, swallow this pill.
1975 A.D. - That pill is ineffective. Here, take this antibiotic.
2000 A.D. - That antibiotic doesn't work anymore. Here, eat this root.

Men and Women are not alike. Sure, you already knew that. But now we have conclusive proof! After
countless hours of surveys and studies, these facts have emerged:
MATURITY:
Women mature faster... most 17-year-old females can function as adults.
Most 17-year-old males are still trading baseball cards and giving each other wedgies after gym class.
This is why high school romances rarely work out.
COMEDY:
Imagine a small group of men and women in a room, watching television, andan episode of "The Three
Stooges" comes on. Immediately, the men will get very excited, laugh uproariously, and even try to
imitate the actions of Curly, Man's favorite stooge. The women will roll their eyes and groan and wait
it out.
HANDWRITING:
To their credit, men do not decorate their penmanship; they chicken-scratch.
Women use scented, colored stationery, dot their "i"s with circles and hearts. Women use ridiculously
large loops in their "p's" and "g's."It is a pain to read a note from a woman. Even when she's dumping
you, she'll put a smiley face at the end of the note.
BATHROOMS:
A man has at most six items in his bathroom - a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a
2-gallon jug of shampoo, a bar of soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn.
The average number of items in a typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify
most of these items.
MAGAZINES:
Men's magazines often feature pictures of naked women. Women's magazines also feature pictures of naked
women. This is because the female body is a beautiful work of art, while the male body is hairy and
lumpy and should not be seen by the light of day.
GROCERIES:
A woman makes a list of things she needs and then goes to the store and buys these things. A man waits
until the only items left in his fridge are half of a lemon, and something turning green. Then he goes
grocery shopping. He buys everything that looks good. By the time he reaches the checkout counter,his
cart is packed tighter than the Clampett's car on The Beverley Hillbillies. Of course, this will not
stop him from going to the 10-items-or-less lane.
RELATIONSHIPS:
A man does not call a relationship a relationship - he refers to it as "that time when me and she were
boinking on a semi-regular basis."
When a relationship ends, a woman will cry and pour her heart out to her girlfriends, and she will
write a poem titled "All Men Are Bs." Then she will get on with her life.
A man has more trouble letting go. Six months after the breakup - at 3 am on a Sunday morning - he will
call and say "I just wanted to let you know you ruined my life, and I'll never forgive you, and I
hate you, and you're a total floozy. But I want you to know there's always a chance for us."
This is known as the "I Hate You/I Love You" drunken phone call, that 99%of all men have made at least
once. There are community colleges that offer courses to help men get over this; these classes rarely
prove effective.
GOING OUT:
When a man says he's ready to go out, it means he's ready to go out.
When a woman says she's ready to go out, it means that she WILL be ready as soon as she finds her other
earring, finishes putting on her makeup ...
SHOES:
When preparing for work, a woman will put on a Mondi wool suit, and then slip into Reebok sneakers. She
will carry her dress shoes in a plastic bag from Saks. When she arrives at work, she will put on her
dress shoes. Five minutes later, she will kick them off because her feet are under her desk.
A man wears one pair of shoes for the entire day.
CATS:
Women love cats.
Men say they love cats, but when women aren't looking, men kick cats.
MIRRORS:
Men are vain; they will check themselves out in the mirror.
Women are ridiculous; they will check out their reflections in any shiny surface - mirrors, spoons,
store windows, toasters, Kojak's head...
GARAGES:
Women use garages to park their cars and to store their lawnmowers.
Men use garages for many things. They hang license plates in garages, they watch TV in garages, and
they build useless wooden things in garages.
MOVIES:
For women, their favorite movie scene is when Clark Gable kisses Vivian Leigh for the first time in
"Gone With The Wind."
For men, it's when Jimmy Cagney shoves a grapefruit in Mae Clark's face in "Public Enemy."
MENOPAUSE:
When a woman reaches menopause, she goes through a variety of complicated emotional, psychological, and
biological changes. The nature and degree ofthe changes varies with the individual.
Menopause in a man provokes a uniform reaction. He buys aviator glasses,a snazzy French cap and leather
driving gloves, and goes shopping for anexpensive foreign sports car.
THE TELEPHONE:
Men see the telephone as a communications tool to send short messages to other people.
A woman can visit her girlfriend for two weeks, and upon returning
home, she will call the same friend and they will talk for three hours.
LOW BLOWS:
Let's say a man and a woman are watching a boxing match on television, and one of the fighters is felled
by a low blow.
The woman says "Oh, gee, that must hurt."
The man doubles over and actually feels pain.
DIRECTIONS:
If a woman is out driving and she finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she will stop at a gas
station and ask for directions.
Men consider this to be a sign of weakness. A man will never stop and ask for directions.Men will drive
in a circle for hours, all the while saying things like, "Looks like I've found a new way to get there,"
and, "I know I'm in the neighborhood. I recognize that White Hen store."
ADMITTING MISTAKES:
Women will sometimes admit making a mistake.
The last man who admitted that he was wrong was Gen. George Custer.
RICHARD GERE:
Women like Richard Gere because he is sexy in a dangerous way.
Men hate Richard Gere because he reminds them of that slick guy who works out at the health club and
dates only married women.
NUDITY IN MOVIES:
Every actress in the history of movies has had to do a nude scene. This is because every movie in the
history of movies has been produced by men.
The only actor who has ever appeared nude in the movies is Richard Gere.
This is another reason why men hate him.
OFFSPRING:
Ah, children! A woman knows everything about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and
soccer games and romances and best friends and favorite foods and secret fears and hopes and dreams.
A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.
DRESSING UP:
A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the garbage, answer the phone, read a
book, get the mail...
A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.
POLITICS:
Men love to talk about politics, but they often forget to vote.
Women are very happy that another generation of Kennedys is growing up and getting into politics,
because they will be able to campaign for them and cry on election night.
LAUNDRY:
Women do laundry every couple of days.
A man will wear every article of clothing he owns, including his surgical pants that were hip about
eight years ago, before he will do his laundry. When he is finally out of clothes, he will wear a
dirty sweatshirt inside out, rent a U- Haul and take his mountain of clothes to the laundromat, and
expect to meet a beautiful woman while he is there.
WEDDINGS:
When reminiscing about weddings, women talk about the "ceremony."
Men talk about the low neckline of the bridesmaid's dress

News item: Elinor Caplan, the Citizenship and Immigration Minister,said last week that she expects
the problem of ships carrying Chinese migrants to Canadian shores will quickly solve itself -- with the
arrival of winter. "Fairly soon we will not have the kind of waters that will be hospitable to boat
arrivals," she said.
Memo to: All members of the cabinet
From: The Prime Minister
So finally someone has got it. So, good. A minister with a brain who knows the best way to get things
done is sometimes to do not so much. It is what I have said since a long time; ignore each problem, one
problem at a time ... or something like that. Donoloused to tell me. I have already talked with the
people who are to be writing the Red Book No. 3 and I have told them; I said, for me this is the plan.
In the next election we tell the Canadians about this plan, our new 50-50 plan: a Liberal government
will have half of our problems solved by Mother Nature, and the other half of our problems solved by
Father Time. Bah, so there it is. And so even before an election we can get started, to show that our
50-50 plan -- that it works, that it is to be a good plan for the Canadians. Consider all the talk
about the brains draining. Bah -- everyday, the reporters they say to me, "Prime Minister, will you
stop the brains from draining?" And from now on I will say, "But for me, soon it will be winter." And
the highways, they will be so icy that no one with a brain will be driving on them. So, you know,
anyone who is draining at that point does not have a brain, and to them we say au revoir! Problem solved.
And then there is the poverty, and the homeless who don't have the homes. It is a problem, yes, but not
to be a problem any more. Because for me, soon it will be summer again, and it will be nice to be in
the outside. You know, some people they will pay the money to sleep outside in the tent, out in the
bush where there is no civilization. And we Liberals, because we are Liberals, we will let the poor
people sleep right in the downtowns, and we will not charge them the money. And all the children who
are pale because they don't have the nourishment -- they will get the healthy tans, and they will look
quite nice for the children of the poverty.
Quebec and the separation? For me, there have always been the floods in Quebec before and, maybe if
they come again in just the right spots ... bah, problem solved. The airline merger? With this 2YK ...
er, YK2 ...um, this thing with the computers and the year 2000, maybe the planes they will all be
flying straight into the ground, so for me the problem will be solved. Tax cuts? You know, eventually
everyone who is complaining today about the height of the taxes will be dead. Problem solved. The
Indians and the land claims? For me, it will be the ice age soon enough again, and even the aboriginals
they will not want to be fighting for the glaciers. Problem solved. In health care, yes, there are
still problems because of the deficit that was needed to be cut, and we cut it, and it was $42-billion.
So, that's good. But you know there are still the problems with the overcrowding and the waiting lists.
But, for me, soon it will be winter, and soon the streets -- they will be covered with the snow. And
the cities, because of the cuts in the transfers, they will have no money to pay for the clearing. So
no one will be able to get to the hospitals. And the lines, poof, they will be gone. Problem solved.
And then there are the people who ask, "What about the people in British Columbia? Why do they feel so
isolated from Ottawa?" For me, it's a good question, sure, but you know tomorrow the Earth could quake
and the whole province could go plop into the ocean. And then, for me, the problem it would not be a
problem any more. And you know, the Chinese too would not be a problem any more for me, because even
the Chinese -- bah, even the Chinese on the rustiest boat, they would think twice about coming ashore
in Alberta.

1.Be Fishers of Men.... You catch 'em,He'll Clean 'em.
2.A family altar can alter a family.
3.A lot of kneeling will keep you in good standing.
4.Don't wait for 6 strong men to take you to church.
5.Exercise daily. Walk with the Lord!
6.Forbidden fruits create many jams.
7.Give God what's right, not what's left!
8.Give Satan an inch and he'll be a ruler.
9.God doesn't call the qualified,He qualifies the called.
10.God grades on the cross, not the curve.
11.God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage.
12.Having Truth decay? Brush up on your Bible!
13.He who angers you, controls you!
14.He who is good at making excuses, is seldom good for much else.
15.He who kneels before God, can stand before anyone!
16.Kindness is good to give away, because it keepscoming back.
17.Most people want to serve God, but only in an advisory capacity.
18.Never give the devil a ride! He will always want to drive!
19.Nothing ruins the truth like stretching it.
20.Plan ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark.
21."Pray" is a four letter word that you can use anywhere.
22.Prayer ! - Don't give God instructions - just report for duty!
23.The Will of God will never take you to where the Grace of God will not protect you.
24.This Church is "Prayer Conditioned"!
25.To be almost saved, is to be totally lost.
26. WARNING: Exposure to the Son may prevent burning!
27.Watch your step carefully! Everyone else does!
28.If we don't change the Message, the Message can change us.
29.We set the sail; God makes the wind
30. Worry is the darkroom in which "negatives" are developed.
31.Hint: When facing the Son, you see no shadows.
32.His Glory and Grace - is your peace in the "race."
33.God loves to answer knee-mail!

Metropolitan Toronto Chapter
P.O. Box 216, Station "A"
Toronto, Ont. M4H 2B8
(416)334-2525 fax: (416)324-5456
November 25, 1993
Mr. & Mrs. John Wilson
R.R. 1, Site 2, Box 22
SPIRIT RIVER, AB
T0H 3G0
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Wilson;
As part of our programme for fostering, and greater world understanding, the Council has selected your
family as a participating household in our new "Lend A Helping Hand Plan".
You will be pleased, we are sure, to know that you have been assigned a typical family group from
Pakistan to be your guests in your home for the next few months.
These people suffered a tremendous social upheaval and it will take some time for them to adapt to our
way of life. We are sure that you will do everything possible to help them make the transition as
pleasant as possible, even if it means some minor reorganization in your home and in your personal
habits.
The family which we have assigned to you consists of the father, mother, nine children, the mother's
brother and his young wife, the grandmother and her sister, one goat, four sheep, a mongoose and six
cows for their worship services. We have been informed that you have enough lawn for the animals and we
feel sure that you could erect temporary quarters for them, adjoining your house.
Within the next seven days we shall be able to inform you of their arrival date and their names. We
shall include some recipes for their traditional Pakistani dishes (they love rice, but not cabbage).
No doubt you will wish to meet them at the Calgary airport. We suggest you rent a truck and a van for
that day.
While this may seem like only a small gesture, we are convinced that it is only through such brotherhood
that the world will become one big, happy family! Bless you.
Yours in friendship
CANADA COUNCIL
Secretary of Posting
P.S. After the family has been with you for a few weeks, one of our Social Workers will call on you. If
all is in order, as we are certain it will be, we will begin to arrange for a second family to move
in with you, provided this is convenient.

Veteran Pillsbury spokesman, The Pillsbury Doughboy, died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes to the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in one of the largest funeral ceremonies in recent years. Dozens of celebrities turned out, including Mrs. Butterworth, the California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker the Hostess Twinkies, Captain Crunch and many others. The graveside was piled high with flours as longtime friend, Aunt Jemima, delivered the eulogy, describing Doughboy as a man who, "never knew how much he was kneaded." Doughboy rose quickly in show business but his later life was filled with many turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Still, even as a crusty old man, he was a roll model for millions. Doughboy is survived by his second wife, Play Dough. They have two children and one in the oven. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

I HAVE ALWAYS EXPERIENCED considerable difficulty understanding the English language with its many
complicated rules of grammar. Even now I cannot conjugate a verb properly and I continue to split my
infinitives, mix metaphors and dangle my gerunds disgracefully.
I like my language like I like my Scotch - neat - somewhere between Hemmingway and Zane Grey. That's
why I get so upset at what I see and hear around me. Indians have been overwhelmed by a barrage of
verbal fudge emanating from all those 3rd year Sociology graduates now employed by the government. The
trendy vernacular of 'problem solving', 'conceptualization', 'assessment of values' and the 'expression
of felt needs', whatever that means, drip from the lips of 'facilitators' like honey. Armed with a flip
chart and deadly array of felt tip pens, they help us define parameters, prioritize tasks and establish
goals and objectives (long range and immediate). Their flow charts are altered from the usual lines and
squares to circles so we can understand and, before you call say fried bread, the task is finished.
Everything is done, everything that is, except actually doing something. The facilitator moves on to his
or her next workshop (and exorbitant fee) and we are left with a sheaf of flip chart instructions to
file.
It bothers me because the cutting edge of language is speech, and speech today is often less coherent
than the Neanderthal grunts of our ancestors. It bothers me because Indian people are succumbing to
this bafflegab, this techslang, this psychobabble. At a time when our technology is capable of turning
us all into so much nuclear dust, our leaders cannot talk to us in comprehensible English. The language
has been kneecapped with all the grace of Ayatollah Khomeini's hit squad.
It bothers me because words, used wisely, have considerable power. They can bring down presidents and
autocrats, they can elect leaders and they can inform the public. But the mark of the power seeker is
the word as smokescreen. I despise the defacing of words that eventually wind up in the arsenal of the
haughty - the Alexander (I'm in charge here) Haig syndrome of word as power talisman. During the Nixon
era, we found bombs described as 'anti-personal devices' and police dogs as 'crowd dispersal units'.
Today it's 'parameters' istead of 'limits', 'interface' in place of 'overlap' (in the 60's, the
buzzword was 'dovetail') and even worse, the dreadful appearance of nouns-on-wheels: 'conceptualize',
'concretize', and, guess what, 'interface' again, only this time disguised as a verb.
I deplore syllable inflation: 'combatative' for 'combative' and 'distinctive' for 'distinct' and I
wretch at that unctious circumlocution, 'I would like to share with you my thoughts...' This is the
language of the partly informed, the semi-literate (I don't mean schooled in this case. Schooling has
little to do with one's education.) But it is the language of psychobabble as euphemism. It is the
changing of a realistic description of something deemed unpleasant to a milder, supposedly more neutral
form. Hence, we don't tell people things, we share it with them; we don't disagree with people, we have
a breakdown in communications; they are simply no longer with us, or perhaps they have simply
transubstantiated. In the realm of such gobbledygook, NICE reigns supreme while clarity is doomed.
Meaning, except for the glib few, is virtually lost. Feeling rules over logic and in fact logic becomes
identified with those academic types and is therefore suspect.
All this was predicted by the prophet, George Orwell, "...prose consists less and less of words chosen
for the sake of their meaning and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated
hen-house." It seems that today catch phrases and buzzwords block any attempt at communication while
opinion (or, as current coin has it, considered opinion) has taken the place of hard, rigorous and
analytical thought.
In a society teeming with blabber - mouth illiterates, I can't help but marvel at the stark simplicity
and clarity of the speeches made recently by Chief Alphonse Metallic and councillor Michael Isaac of
Restigouche Reserve in Quebec. They made their points clearly and concisely and with considerable
humour, considering the events swirling around them, without any'big words' or B.S. I fear such men
are doomed. Not by the insidious and evil ways of the white man, but by the juggernaut of jargon
manating from the lips of Indian and non-Indian politicians and bureaucrats. The leaders at Restigouche
were humans dealing with other humans in a humane way.
Well, it's taken me considerable time, but I must make this perfectly clear. Not wishing to mis-speak
myself, I must inform you that I have prioritized my viable options and, although I haven't yet
finalized my parameters, I have, by consolidating peer group relations, productively interfaced with my
staff to arrive at a solution which, to the best of my knowledge, will impact favourably with our
readership.
The goals and objectives however have yet to be prioritized and therefore events cannot be
definitalized, but my flip chart is indicitive that the parameters of the problem are more operational
than philosophical; in terms of framework, and, once we have sectoralized the felt needs of the people
we can commence with interfacing about the totality of the framework rather than the specificity of it
- providing (of course) it is viable. If not we will have to prioritize a different option.
I guess I'm just going through this kind of dynamic right now and its kinda 1 where I'm at. I'm most
likely ego - tripping anyway, and I haven't got a lot of psychic energy left over for social
interaction. I'm sure my aura is pretty antagonistic and my psychograph has plumbed new depths. If this
is where its at, where the hell are we coming from? If you ask me itsthe pits - or, whatever.

When you have had one of those TAKE THIS JOB AND SHOVE IT days, try this.
Onyour way home after work, stop at your pharmacy and go to the section where they have thermometers.
You will need to purchase a rectal thermometer made by *Q-Tip. Be very sure that you get this brand.
When you get home, lock your doors, draw the drapes, and disconnect the phone so you will not be
disturbed during your therapy. Change to very comfortable clothing, such as a sweat suit and lie down
on your bed.
Open the package containing the thermometer, remove the thermometer and carefully place it on the
bedside table so that it will not become chipped or broken. Take the written material that accompanies
the thermometer and as you read it you will notice in small print the statement that "every rectal
thermometer made by Q-Tip is PERSONALLY tested."
Now close your eyes and say out loud five times, "I am so glad that I do not work in quality control at
the Q-Tip Company."

1. REAL programmers don't use REMarks in their programs; if it was difficult to write, it should be
difficult to understand
2. REAL programmers' programs don't work the first few times. Throw them a computer and in "just a few"
30-hour sessions, they'll fix them.
3. REAL programmers don't document anything. Documentation is for simpletons.
4. REAL programmers are unmarried; prospective spouses won't allow computers in the bedroom.
5. REAL programmers can't talk; they INTERFACE.
6. REAL programmers don't play PAC-MAN.
7. REAL programmers never have enough disks.
8. REAL programmers don't flowchart. Flowcharts are for sissies.
9. Any program, when finally debugged, is obsolete.
10. If a program is useful, it has to be changed.
11. If a program is useless, it has to be documented.
12. The value of a program is inversely proportional to the weight of its output.
13. A program expands until it fills all available memory.
14. If a program is working as planned, something is wrong.
15. Variables won't and constants aren't.
16. There is always one more bug.
17. Not until a program has been in use for 6 months will the most harmful bug be discovered.
18. Interchangable disks aren't.
19. If builders built buildings the way progammers wrote programs, the first woodpecker to come along
would destroy civilization.
20. The probability of anything happening is inversely proportional to its desirability.
21. It works better if you plug it in.
22. It won't work.
23. No worthwhile program is ever completed on time or within budget.
24. When working towards the solution of a problem, it helps if you know the answer.
25. A programming project that starts well ends badly.
26. A programming project that starts badly ends worse.
27. Whatever you programmed, that's what you wanted to program.
28. Any program should be expected to perform, at any time certain totally unexpected results, that are
either totally mysterious or entirely obscure.
29. If the program looks easy, it is difficult. If it looks difficult, it is impossible.

My name is Gossip. I have no respect for Justice.
I maim without killing. I break hearts and ruin lives.
I am cunning and malicious and gather strength with age.
The more I am quoted the more I am believed.
I flourish at every level of society.
My victims are helpless. They cannot protect themselves against me because I have no name and no face.
To track me down is impossible. The harder you try, the more elusive I become.
I am nobody's friend.
Once I tarnish a reputation, it is never quite the same.
I topple governments and wreck marriages.
I ruin careers, cause sleepless nights, heartache and indigestion.
I spawn suspicion and generate grief.
I make innocent people cry in their pillows.
Even my name hisses. I am called Gossip. Office gossip. Shop gossip. Party gossip. I make headlines and
headaches. Before you repeat a story, ask yourself, "Is it True? Is it Fair? Is it Necessary?" If not
- SHUT UP!

10741 - 108 Avenue,
Kelowna, B.C. V1Y 1R2
(604)762-7177
July 18, 2009
Mr. J. Chouinard
6451 T.C. Hwy. N.W.
Salmon Arm, B.C.
V1E 4M2
Dear Sir;
Perhaps you have heard of me and my Western Canada campaign in the cause of temperance. Each year for
the past 23, I have made a tour of Edmonton, Calgary, Vancouver and Kelowna, elivering a series of
lectures on the evils of drinking spirits.
On these tours, I have been accompanied by my friend, Clyde Lindstone. Clyde, a young man of good
family and excellent background, is a pathetic example of life ruined by excessive indulgence in loose
women and strong whiskey.
Clyde would appear with me at the lectures and sit on the platform, wheezing and staring at the
audience through bleary and bloodshot eyes, sweating profusely, picking his nose, scratching at his
private parts, passing gas and making obscene gestures while I point him out as an example of what
over-indulgence can do to a person.
Last fall, unfortunately, Clyde passed on, due to liver failure and various social diseases.
A mutual friend has given me your name and I wonder if you would be available to take Clyde's place on
my 2010 tour.
respectfully,
Rev. Elton Jones,
THE RESCUE MISSION

Whenever Richard Cory went downtown
We people on the pavement looked at him.
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favoured, and imperially slim.
And he always was quietly arrayed
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good morning", and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich - yes, richer than a king.
And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine, we thought that he was everything,
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm, summer night
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Mend a quarrel.
Search for a forgotten friend.
Dismiss a suspicion and replace it with trust.
Write a letter to someone who misses you.
Encourage someone who has lost faith.
Keep a promise.
Forget an old grudge.
Examine your demands on others and vow to reduce them.
Fight for a principle.
Express your gratitude.
Overcome an old fear.
Take two minutes to appreciate the beauty of nature.
Tell someone you love them.
Tell them again.
And again.
And again.

1 cup sugar
2 litres rum
1 cup dried fruit
2 cups brown sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup butter
2 large eggs
1 tsp baking powder
lemon juice
2 cups wallnuts
Before starting, sample the rum to check its quality. If O.K., proceed.
Select a large mixing bowl, measuring cup etc. Check the rum again. It must be just right. To be sure
the rum is of proper quality, pour one level cup of rum into a glass and drink it as fast as you can.
Repeat.
With an electric mixer, beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one seasspoon of sthugar and
beat again. Meanwhile, make sure the rum is still OK. Try another acup. Open secondd litter if
necessssary/.
Add egs, 2 sups dried fruit and heat until high. If fruit gets stuck in the beaters, pry looosee with a
drewscriber.
Sampel the rumm again cecking for tonscisticity. Next, sift 3 cups of pepper or salt (doesnt really
matter which) Sample the rum again. Sift ½ pint of lemon juiice. Fold in the choppet butter and
strained nuts.
Add one babblespoon of brown shugar of whatever color you cacn find.
Wix mell.
Greadse the oven; turn the cake pan 350 degreees. Pur the whol messs into boven and ake f or 15 hourss
at 455 degrees.
Cheeeeek thhhhhhhhh rrrrrrujm againn and got o bed

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee,
where the cotton blooms and blows
Why he left his home in the South to roam
'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold but the land of gold
seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way
that he'd sooner live in Hell.
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way
over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold
it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze
till sometimes we couldn't see,
It wasn't much fun, but the only one
to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight
in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead
were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap", says he,
"I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you
won't refuse my last request."
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no;
then he says with a sort of moan,
"It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold
till I'm chilled clean through to the bone
Yet 'taint being dead-it's my awful dread
of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair,
you'll cremate my last remains.
A pal's last need is a thing to heed,
so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn
but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day
of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all
that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn't a breath in that land of death,
and I hurried, horror-driven
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid,
because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say. "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you
to cremate these last remains".
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid,
and the trail has its own stern code,
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb
in my heart how I cursed that load!
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight,
while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows-
Oh God, how I loathed the thing!
And every day that quiet clay
seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent
and the grub was getting low.
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad,
but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing,
and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge,
and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice
it was called the Alice May,
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit,
and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here", said I, with a sudden cry,
"is mycre-ma-tor-eum"!
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor
and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around,
and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared
such a blaze you seldom see,
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal,
and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like
to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled,
and the wind began to blow,
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled
down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak
went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow
I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about
ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said,
"I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked".
Then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm,
in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile,
and he said, "Please close that door.

Name: _________________________________
Nickname: ___________________CB Handle: ____________________
Address (miles from town/grid road):______________________________
Pa (if unknown, or list two best suspects):___________________________
Neck Shade: light red,medium red, dark red, other_________________
Number of teeth exposed in full grin: Upper_________Lower_______
Make of Pickup:_________________ Size of tire:____________"
Dogs:_________________Type (if known): __________________
How many trucks/makes in yard? _______
How many on blocks? ________
Do you think Colin Thatcher is guilty? (Circle only one)(Yes) (Probably)
How often do you write to Anne Murray? __________ times/week
How often arrested for it?_________
Do you wear (circle only one): (blue jeans)(polyester pants with snags) (other)
If other, explain:_____________________________________________________
Do you own any shoes (not boots)? (Yes)(No)
Size of belt buckle (circle only one): (football size)(deer head size) (tombstone size)
Belt buckle weight (lbs.): _________
Does your wife weigh more than your pickup (before all-you-can-eat buffet)?(Yes)(No)
After Buffet?(Yes)(No)
Can you sign your own name and always spell it right?(Yes)(No) (Maybe)(Depends)
Have you ever had more than one bath in a week? (Yes)(No)If yes, explain:
_____________________________________________________________
Medical Information:
Do you have at least two(2) of the following (circle the ones that apply);
B.O., Crabs, Gas, Bad Breath, Fleas, Tan line around collar/arms,
Crossed Eyes, Runny Nose,
Green Teeth, Brown Teeth, Any Teeth, Number of Teeth missing?
General Information:
Can you count past 10 with your shoes on? (yes)(no)
Past 21 with your fly up?(yes)(no)
Favorite Weapon (circle one): (hockey stick)(2x4)(.22)(shotgun)(rake)
Favorite Pastime: (drinkin')(gopher huntin') (other):___________________________
Truck equipped with: (gun rack)(fuzzbuster)(8-track player) (booster cables) (roll bar) (C.B)
(beer bottles)(fuzzy dice) (garter)
Favorite music(circle only one):(country)(western)
Bumper Stickers: (Let the Eastern Bastards Freeze in the Dark) (Damned Government)
(Damned Weather)(Damned Banks) (Old Fart)
Cap Emblems: (John Deere) (CAT)(POOL or Wheat Pool)(Labatt's Blue) (Old Fart)
Memberships: (Ducks Unlimited)(Legion)(4H)(Co-op)(UFA)
Your signature (one X will do):__________________________________
Date:____________ 2009


happiness is found along the way; not at the end of the road
WHERE YOU COME FROM IS NOT NEARLY AS IMPORTANT AS WHERE YOU ARE GOING
Do not pray for an easy life. Pray to be a strong person.

Dear Ann Landers: A while back, you printed something about how long it takes the body to repair
itself after a smoker quits. I know two people who are in the midst of quitting and thought this would
encourage them to hand in there. Please print it again. Thanks for your clear and grounded advice. -
Longtime reader in Montreal.
Dear Montreal: I appreciate your kind words. Here's the column you asked for. I hope it helps your
friends:
Dear Ann Landers: Last fall, my 47-year-old brother was diagnosed with lung cancer. Years of smoking
had finally caught up with him. The doctors have told us that my brother has maybe one or two years
left at the most before the cancer kills him. My heart is broken. I am not ready to say goodbye to my
bright and beautiful brother. I am enclosing an article I read recently. If you would print it in your
column, it might inspire some smokers to quit. It could spare their children, parents, brothers,
sisters and friends the great sorrow I am experiencing today. -Saddened in San Jose.
Dear San Jose: Here it is:
"As soon as you snuff out that last cigarette, your body will begin a series of physiological changes.
"Within 20 minutes:
Blood pressure, body temperature and pulse rate will drop to normal.
"Within eight hours:
Smoker's breath disappears. Carbon monoxide level in blood drops and oxygen level rises to normal.
"Within 24 hours:
Chance of a heart attack decreases.
"Within 48 hours:
Nerve endings start to regroup. Ability to taste and smell improves.
"Within three days:
Breathing is easier.
"Within two to three months:
Circulation improves. Walking becomes easier. Lung capacity increases up to 30 per cent.
"Within one to nine months:
Sinus congestion and shortness of breath decrease. Cilia that sweep debris from your lungs grows back.
Energy increases.
"Within one year:
Excess risk of coronary heart disease is half that of a person who smokes.
"Within two years:
Heart attack risk drops to near normal.
"Within five years:
Lung cancer death rate for the average pack-a-day smoker decreases by almost half. Stroke risk is
reduced. Risk of mouth, throat and esophageal cancer is half that of a smoker.
"Within 10 years:
Lung cancer death rate is similar to that of a person who does not smoke. The pre-cancerous cells are
replaced.
"Within 15 years:
Risk of coronary heart disease is the same as a person who has never smoked.
And now for a word to women who are falling for the latest ploy to pull females into the ranks of cigar
smoking: Your lungs are being damaged, your teeth are turning brown, and your breath smells terrible.
Even you best friends won't tell you, but you can count on me for the truth. Cigars stink.
AND Ann has not even mentioned:
- the incredible property losses due to fires started by careless smoking or children playing with
parents' smoking materials
- the suffering and death caused by these fires
- the terrible damage done by parents to children they claim to love, by subjecting them to second-hand
smoke
- the terrible example we set for our children; if we smoke, why shouldn't they also?

Once upon a time a preacher, of a certain religious band,
Went forth upon a mission, out in the Indian land.
He gave the chief a Bible, and journeyed on his way;
But came back through that section at a somewhat later day.
The chief called on the preacher - whatever did give rise?
"Chief want to be a Christian - me ready to be baptized."
The preacher brought his "Jordan" - a little china bowl;
Then catechized the Indian, with reference to his soul.
The chief looked at the vessel with an apprehensive look -
"That pond he much too little, you give me wrong book."
The preacher urged and argued that a small amount would do.
But failed to turn the Indian from his much-water view.
But the preacher at last consented to let his custom slip;
He'd go down to the river and give the chief a dip.
"No, No," the chief responded, "God's laws you change,
You can't from dip get sprinkle -
Me guess you be wrong man.
If sprinkle be the order, Bible is wrong book,
If dipping be the order, sprinkler is a crook."
author unknown

investment brokers
61 Victoria Avenue
VICTORIA, B. C. V1Y 2R2
(604) 323-3874
fax: (604)323-4379
January 1, 2009
Mr. Ken Lennox CMA
5704 - 34 Avenue,
Grande Prairie,
Alta. T8V 5T5
Dear Sir;
Our records show that you hold shares in the following companies:
Canadian Can Corp.
Western Water Limited
Novagas Canada Ltd.
Northern Tissue Co. Ltd.
Due to uncertain market conditions, we recommend that you sit tight on your Canadian Can, hold your
Water and let your Gas go.
You will be interested to know that Northern Tissue touched a new bottom and thousands were wiped
clean.
sincerely,
Squatt & Leavitt Bros.

This diet is designed to help you cope with the stress of a busy schedule.
BREAKFAST:
Grapefruit
1 slice whole wheat toast, dry
8 oz skim milk & 1 cup herb tea
LUNCH:
4 oz lean broiled chicken breast
1 cup steamed spinach
1 oreo cookie
MID-AFTERNOON SNACK: DINNER
Rest of the Oreos
2 loaves garlic bread/cheese
1 jar hot fudge sauce
Nuts, cherries, whipped cream
DINNER:
2 pints Nu-Maid ice cream
Large sausage, mushroom pizza
4 cans or 1 large pitcher of beer
3 Milky way candy bars
LATE EVENING NEWS
Entire frozen cheesecake eaten directly from freezer
RULES FOR THIS DIET:
- If you eat something and no one sees you eat it, it has no calories
- If you drink a diet soda with a candy bar, the calories in the candy bar are canacelled out by the
diet soda.
- When you eat with someone else, calories don't count if you don't eat more than they do.
- Food used for medicinal purposes NEVER count, such as hot chocolate, brandy, toast and Sara Lee
cheesecake.
- If you fatten up everyone around you, you look thinner.
- Movie-related foods, such as Milk Duds, buttered popcorn, Tootsie Rolls, etc. do not have additional
calories because they are part of the entire entertainment package and not part of one's personal fuel.
- Cookie pieces contain no calories. The process of breaking them causes calories to leak out.
- Things licked off knives, spoons, and spatulas have no calories if you are in the process of
preparing something. Examples are peanut butter on a knife making a sandwich, and ice cream on a spoon
making a sundae.
- Foods that have the same colour have the same number of calories. Examples are spinach and pistacio
ice cream, mushrooms and white chocolate. Note that chocolate is a universal color, and may be
substituted for any other food color.


"Actually this is just a place for my stuff, ya know? That's all, a little place for my stuff.
That's all I want, that's all you need in life, is a little place for your stuff, ya know? I can see it
on your table, everybody's got a little place for their stuff. This is my stuff, that's your stuff,
that'll be his stuff over there. That's all you need in life, a little place for your stuff.
That's all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn't have so much stuff, you wouldn't
need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on
it. You can see that when you're taking off in an airplane. You look down, you see everybody's got a
little pile of stuff. All the little piles of stuff. And when you leave your house, you gotta lock it
up. Wouldn't want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff. They always take the good stuff.
They never bother with that crap you're saving. All they want is the shiny stuff. That's what your
house is, a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get...more stuff! Sometimes you gotta move,
gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore.
Did you ever notice when you go to somebody else's house, you never quite feel a hundred percent at
home? You know why? No room for your stuff. Somebody else's stuff is all over the place! And if you
stay overnight, unexpectedly, they give you a little bedroom to sleep in. Bedroom they haven't used in
about eleven years. Someone died in it, eleven years ago. And they haven't moved any of his stuff! Right
next to the bed there's usually a dresser or a bureau of some kind, and there's NO ROOM for your stuff
on it. Somebody else's shit is on the dresser. Have you noticed that their stuff is shit and your shit
is stuff? And you say, "Get that shit offa there and let me put my stuff down!"
Sometimes you leave your house to go on vacation. And you gotta take some of your stuff with you. Gotta
take about two big suitcases full of stuff, when you go on vacation. You gotta take a smaller version
of your house. It's the second version of your stuff. And you're gonna fly all the way to Honolulu.
Gonna go across the continent, across half an ocean to Honolulu. You get down to the hotel room in
Honolulu and you open up your suitcase and you put away all your stuff. "Here's a place here, put a
little bit of stuff there, put some stuff here, put some stuff--you put your stuff there, I'll put some
stuff--here's another place for stuff, look at this, I'll put some stuff here..." And even though
you're far away from home, you start to get used to it, you start to feel okay, because after all, you
do have some of your stuff with you.
That's when your friend calls up from Maui, and says, "Hey, why don'tchya come over to Maui for the
weekend and spend a couple of nights over here." Oh, no! Now what do I pack? Right, you've gotta pack
an even SMALLER version of your stuff. The third version of your house. Just enough stuff to take to
Maui for a coupla days.
You get over to Maui--I mean you're really getting extended now, when you think about it. You got stuff
ALL the way back on the mainland, you got stuff on another island, you got stuff on this island. I
mean, supply lines are getting longer and harder to maintain. You get over to your friend's house on
Maui and he gives you a little place to sleep, a little bed right next to his windowsill or something.
You put some of your stuff up there. You put your stuff up there. You got your Visine, you got your
nail clippers, and you put everything up. It takes about an hour and a half, but after a while you
finally feel okay, say, "All right, I got my nail clippers, I must be okay."
That's when your friend says, "Aaaaay, I think tonight we'll go over the other side of the island,
visit a pal of mine and maybe stay over." Aww, no. NOW what do you pack? Right--you gotta pack an even
SMALLER version of your stuff. The fourth version of your house. Only the stuff you know you're gonna
need. Money, keys, comb, wallet, lighter, hanky, pen, smokes, rubber and change. Well, only the stuff
you HOPE you're gonna need." - By George Carlin
Or watch him do this one at YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvgN5gCuLac

60 S________ in a M_________
26 L________ of the A_______________
7 W_______________ of the W_______________
1,001 A_______________ N_______________
12 S_______________ of the Z_______________
54 C_______________ in a D______________ (with the J______________)
9 P_______________ in the S_______________ S_______________
88 P_______________ K_______________
13 S_______________ on the A_______________ F_______________
32 D_____________ F_____________ at which W_____________ F___________
18 H_______________ on a G_______________ C_______________
90 D_______________ in a R_______________ A_______________
200 D_____________ for P_____________ G_____________ in M_____________
8 S_______________on a S_______________ S_______________
3 B_________ M__________ (S_________ H__________ T__________ R_______!)
4 Q_______________ in a G_______________
24 H_______________ in a D_______________
1 W_______________ on a U_______________
6 C_______________ in the Canadian P_______________ C_______________
57 H_______________ V_______________
1,000 W_______________ is what a P_______________ is W_______________
29 D_____________ in F_____________ in a L_____________ Y_____________
64 S_______________ on a C_______________
365 S________ in a D________ of C________
40 D_____________ and N_____________ of the G_____________ F__________
20,000 L_______________ U_______________ the S_______________
3 C_______________ in the F_______________
12 M_______________ in a Y_______________
360 D ______________ in a C_______________
1024 B__________ in a K__________
A__________ the W__________ in 80 D__________
The 10 C____________
12 E__________ in a D____________
8 P___________ on N__________'s A____________
13 W__________ in a Q____________
16 P__________ C_________ in a D_________ of C_________

Please don't feel bad. It wasn't you entering the men's washroom that caused that guy to pee on the
guy next to him. Hell, we do that all the time. It's rare us guys ever hit what were aiming for.
Sometimes I go into the washroom, start to pee, and then just start spinning around; just so I'll make
sure I hit something. You see, something you ladies should understand by now is that men's penises have
a mind of their own. A guy can go into a bathroom stall because all the urinals are being used, take
perfect aim at the toilet, and his penis will still manage to piss all over the roll of toilet paper,
down his left pant leg, and onto his shoe. I'm telling 'ya those little buggers can't be trusted.
After being married 28 years my wife has me trained. I'm no longer allowed to pee like a man - standing
up. I am required to sit down and pee. She has convinced me that this is a small price to pay.
Otherwise if she had gone to the toilet one more time at night and either sat on a pee soaked toilet
seat, or fell right into the toilet because I forgot to put the seat down, she was going to kill me in
my sleep.
Now another thing us guys don't usually like to talk about, but because you and I have become such good
friends and you think I'm a classy guy, I might as well be candid with you because it's a real problem,
and you ladies need to be understanding. It's the dreaded "morning wood". Most mornings us guys wake up
with two things. A tremendous desire to pee, and a penis so hard you could cut diamonds with it. Well,
no matter how hard you try, you can't get that thing to bend, and if it won't bend you can't aim, well
hell, if you can't aim you have no choice but to piss allover the wall paper and that damn fuzzy toilet
seat cover you women insist on putting on the toilet.
And by the way, when you use those damn fuzzy toilet seat covers, the friggin' toilet seat won't stay up
by itself. So that means we have to use one hand to hold up the toilet seat and the other hand to try to
control our less than perfect aim.
Now sometimes, when you're newly married, (and I know the guys in here will back me up on this) you
think you can get the toilet seat with that damn fuzzy thing to stay up. You jam it back and compress
that fuzzy thing until the seat stays there. OK, so you start to pee, but then that compressed fuzzy
starts to decompress and without warning that damn toilet seat comes flying down and tries to whack off
your weenie: So us guys will not lift a toilet seat with a fuzzy , it's just not safe.
I tried to delicately explain this morning situation to my wife. I told her... look, it won't bend. She
said, "so sit down like I told you to do all the rest of the time." OK. I tried sitting down on the
toilet with "morning wood".
Well it's is very hard to get it bent under the toilet seat, and before I could manage it, I had pissed
all over the bath towels hanging on the Wall across the room. Now, even if you are sitting down and you
can get it forced down under the toilet seat, when you start to pee the pee shoots out from the crack
between the bottom of the toilet seat and the top of the bowl. You piss all over the back of your knees
and it runs down the back of our legs on to that damn matching fuzzy horseshoe rug you keep putting on
the floor in front of the toilet.
I have found the only effective maneuver to deal with this morning urinary dilemma is to assume the
flying Superman position laying over the toilet seat. This takes a great deal of practice, perfect
balance, and split time precision but it's the only sure way to get all the pee in the bowl during the
first morning pee.
So you ladies have to understand that us men are not totally to blame. We are sensitive to your
concerns about hygiene and bathroom cleanliness, but there are times when things just get beyond our
control. It's not our fault, it's just Mother Nature. Now, if it was Father Nature, there wouldn't have
been a problem!

There are only eleven times in history where the @#$% word has been considered acceptable for use.
They are as follows:
11. "What the @#$% do you mean, we are sinking?"
-- Capt. E.J. Smith of RMS Titanic, 1912
10. "What the @#$% was that?"
-- Mayor Of Hiroshima , 1945
9. "Where did all those @#$%ing Indians come from?"
-- Custer, 1877
8. "Any @#$%ing idiot could understand that."
-- Einstein, 1938
7. "It does so @#$%ing look like her!"
-- Picasso, 1926
6. "How the @#$% did you work that out?"
-- Pythagoras, 126 BC
5. "You want WHAT on the @#$%ing ceiling?"
-- Michelangelo, 1566
4. "Where the @#$% are we?"
-- Amelia Earhart, 1937
3. "Scattered @#$%ing showers, my ass!"
-- Noah, 4314 BC
2. "Aw c'mon. Who the @#$% is going to find out?"
-- Bill Clinton, 1998
and a drum roll please............!
1. "Yikes, I didn't think they'd get this @%#*^in g! mad."
-- Saddam Hussein, 2003

Ever stop to think about THE WORD "UP?"
There is a two-letter word that perhaps has more meaning than any other two-letter word, and that is the
word "UP."
It's easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we waken in the
morning, why do we wake UP?
At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP and why are the officers UP for election and
why is it UP to the secretary to write
UP a report?
We call UP our friends And we use it to brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, we warm UP the
leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and some guys fix UP the old car.
At other times the little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets,
work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses.
To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special.
And this UP is confusing:
A drain must be opened UP because it is stopped UP.
We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night.
We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP!
To be knowledgeable of the proper uses of UP, look UP the word in the dictionary. In a desk size
dictionary, takes UP almost 1/4th the page and definitions add UP to about thirty.
If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot
of your time, but if you don't give UP, you may wind UP with a hundred or more.
When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out we say it is clearing UP.
When it rains, it wets UP the earth. When it doesn't rain for a while, things dry UP.
One could go on and on, but I'll wrap it UP, for now my time is used UP, so............
I'll shut UP...
and I replied: Up with this I will not put.

by M.A. Kidder
First somebody told it,
Then the room wouldn't hold it,
So the busy tongues rolled it
Till they got it outside;
Then the crowd came across it,
And never once lost it,
But tossed it and tossed it,
Till it grew long and wide.
This lie brought forth others,
Evil sisters and brothers,
And fathers and mothers,
A terrible crew,
As headlong they hurried,
The people they flurried
And troubled and worried,
As lies always do
So, evil-boded,
This monstrous lie goaded,
Till at last it exploded
In sin and in shame.
But from mud and from mire
The pieces flew higher,
Till they hit the sad liar,
And killed his good name.

The following are actual stories provided by travel agents:
I had someone ask for an aisle seat so that their hair wouldn't get messed up by being near the window.
I got a call from a woman who wanted to go to Capetown. I started to explain the length of the flight
and the passport information then she interrupted me with, "I'm not trying to make you look stupid, but
Capetown is in Massachusetts." Without trying to make her look like the stupid one, I calmly explained,
"Capecod is in Massachusetts, Capetown is in Africa. "Her response ... click.
A man called, furious about a Florida package we did. I asked what was wrong with the vacation in
Orlando. He said he was expecting an ocean-view room. I tried to explain that is not possible, since
Orlando is in the middle of the state. He replied, "Don't lie to me. I looked on the map, and Florida
is a very thin state."
I got a call from a man who asked, "Is it possible to see England from Canada?" I said, "No." He said,
"But they look so close on the map."
Another man called and asked if he could rent a car in Dallas. When I pulled up the reservation, I
noticed he had a 1-hour lay-over in Dallas. When I asked him why he wanted to rent a car, he said, "I
heard Dallas was a big airport, and I need a car to drive between the gates to save time."
A nice lady just called. She needed to know how it was possible that her flight from Detroit left at
8:20am and got into Chicago at 8:33am. I tried to explain that Michigan was an hour ahead of Illinois,
but she could notunderstand the concept of time zones. Finally, I told her the plane went very fast,
and she bought that!
A woman called and asked, "Do airlines put your physical description on your bag so they know who's
luggage belongs to who?" I said, "No, why do you ask?"She replied, "Well, when I checked in with the
airline, they put a tag on my luggage that said FAT, and I'm overweight, is there any connection?" After
putting her on hold for a minute while I "looked into it" ( I was actually laughing) I came back and
explained the city code for Fresno is FAT, and that the airline was just putting a destination tag on
her luggage.
A client called in inquiring about a package to Hawaii. After going over all the cost info, she asked,
"Would it be cheaper to fly to California and then take the train to Hawaii?"
I just got off the phone with a man who asked, "How do I know which plane to get on?" I asked him what
exactly he meant, which he replied, "I was told my flight number is 823, but none of these darn planes
have numbers on them."
A woman called and said, "I need to fly to Pepsi cola on one of those computer planes." I asked if she
meant to fly to Pensacola on a commuter plane. She said,"Yeah, whatever."
A business man called and had a question about the documents he needed in order to fly to China. After
a lengthy discussion about passports, I reminded him he needed a visa. "Oh no I don't, I've been to
China manytimes and never had to have one of those." I double checked and sure enough, his stay
required a visa. When I told him this he said, "Look, I've been to China four times and every time they
have accepted my American Express."
A woman called to make reservations, "I want to go from Chicago to Hippopotamus, New York" The agent
was at a loss for words. Finally, the agent: "Are you sure that's the name of the town?" "Yes, what
flights do you have?" replied the customer. After some searching, the agent came backwith, "I'm sorry,
ma'am, I've looked up every airport code in the country and can't find a Hippopotamus anywhere." The
customer retorted, "Oh don't be silly.Everyone knows where it is. Check your map!" The agent scoured a
map of the state of New York and finally offered, "You don't mean Buffalo, do you?" "That's it! I
knew it was a big animal!"

Betty Botter had some butter,
"But," she said, "this butter's bitter.
If I bake this bitter butter,
it would make my batter bitter.
But a bit of better butter--
that would make my batter better."
So she bought a bit of butter,
better than her bitter butter,
and she baked it in her batter,
and the batter was not bitter.
So 'twas better Betty Botter
bought a bit of better butter.
She sells sea shells by the sea shore.
The shells she sells are surely seashells.
So if she sells shells on the seashore,
I'm sure she sells seashore shells.
A Tudor who tooted a flute
tried to tutor two tooters to toot.
Said the two to their tutor,
"Is it harder to toot
or to tutor two tooters to toot?"
A flea and a fly flew up in a flue.
Said the flea, "Let us fly!"
Said the fly, "Let us flee!"
So they flew through a flaw in the flue.
Mr. See owned a saw.
And Mr. Soar owned a seesaw.
Now See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw
Before Soar saw See,
Which made Soar sore.
Had Soar seen See's saw
Before See sawed Soar's seesaw,
See's saw would not have sawed
Soar's seesaw.
So See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw.
But it was sad to see Soar so sore
Just because See's saw sawed
Soar's seesaw!
I cannot bear to see a bear
Bear down upon a hare.
When bare of hair he strips the hare,
Right there I cry, "Forbear!"
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck
if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
He would chuck, he would, as much as he could,
and chuck as much wood as a woodchuck would
if a woodchuck could chuck wood.
A tree toad loved a she-toad
Who lived up in a tree.
He was a two-toed tree toad
But a three-toed toad was she.
The two-toed tree toad tried to win
The three-toed she-toad's heart,
For the two-toed tree toad loved the ground
That the three-toed tree toad trod.
But the two-toed tree toad tried in vain.
He couldn't please her whim.
From her tree toad bower
With her three-toed power
The she-toad vetoed him.
Of all the felt I ever felt,
I never felt a piece of felt
which felt as fine as that felt felt,
when first I felt that felt hat's felt.
If one doctor doctors another doctor, does the doctor
who doctors the doctor doctor the doctor the way the
doctor he is doctoring doctors? Or does he doctor
the doctor the way the doctor who doctors doctors?
I saw Esau kissing Kate. I saw Esau,
he saw me, and she saw I saw Esau.
Once upon a barren moor
There dwelt a bear, also a boar.
The bear could not bear the boar.
The boar thought the bear a bore.
At last the bear could bear no more
Of that boar that bored him on the moor,
And so one morn he bored the boar--
That boar will bore the bear no more.
If a Hottentot taught a Hottentot tot
To talk ere the tot could totter,
Ought the Hottenton tot
Be taught to say aught, or naught,
Or what ought to be taught her?
If to hoot and to toot a Hottentot tot
Be taught by her Hottentot tutor,
Ought the tutor get hot
If the Hottentot tot
Hoot and toot at her Hottentot tutor?
Ned Nott was shot and Sam Shott was not.
So it is better to be Shott than Nott.
Some say Nott was not shot.
But Shott say she shot Nott.
Either the shot Shott shot at Nottwas not shot,
or Nott was shot.
If the shot Shott shot shot Nott,Nott was shot.
But if the shot Shott shot shot Shott, then Shott was shot, not Nott.
However, the shot Shott shot shot not Shott but Nott.
There was a young fisher named Fischer
Who fished for a fish in a fissure.
The fish with a grin,
Pulled the fisherman in;
Now they're fishing the fissure for Fischer.
If you stick a stock of liquor in your locker,
It's slick to stick a lock upon your stock,
Or some stickler who is slicker
Will stick you of your liquor
If you fail to lock your liquor
With a lock!
Six thick thistle sticks. Six thick thistles stick.
A skunk sat on a stump and thunk the stump stunk,
but the stump thunk the skunk stunk.
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.
Did Peter Piper pick a peck of pickled peppers?
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?

How wreid is tihs? Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it
dseo'nt mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt
tihng is taht frist and lsat ltteer is at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a
toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae we do
not raed ervey lteter by it slef but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig!

I KNOW THAT YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU THINK I SAID, BUT
I AM NOT SURE YOU REALIZE THAT WHAT YOU HEARD IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!
I KNOW THAT YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU THINK I SAID, BUT
I AM NOT SURE YOU REALIZE THAT WHAT YOU HEARD IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!
I KNOW THAT YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU THINK I SAID, BUT
I AM NOT SURE YOU REALIZE THAT WHAT YOU HEARD IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!

WE, the willing,
Led by the unknowing,
Are doing the impossible
For the ungrateful.
We have done so much
For so long
With so little,
We are now qualified to do
anything
With nothing.

This fellow I know, Willy Hayes, likes hunting and the bigger the game,
the better. To date, the largest critter he has shot (at) is a flea -
bitten coyote (he missed). But, Willy has delusions of grandeur; he
knows he was meant to be a "Great White Hunter". I've hunted with Willy
only once and on that trip he killed a 200 gallon fuel tank at a road
construction camp with his .348 Winchester Magnum. His excuse: "I was
sure it wasn't loaded!" The foreman was a bit upset, especially as his
new GMC pickup was parked very close and suffered considerable damage
from the resulting explosion and fire. Ever since, I've been "just
leaving town on business" every time Willy has phoned to suggest a
hunting trip.
Willy is no quitter, though, and last August he phoned in a state of
great excitement. He was like a kid, bubbling over with enthusiasm. I
finally calmed him down enough to learn that his cousin's brother - in
- law knows this guy who had been on a moose hunting trip to Grande
Prairie, Alberta (that's in Canada). Apparently Willy had seen their
video tape. The hunter and his partner had seen some big bull moose and
nearly shot one with antlers "at least six feet wide".
Willy had done his homework; he knew exactly how we could have a week
of glorious, adrenalin - pumping excitement and come home with trophies
as well as tons of meat. A week of pure, unadulterated sport in
northern, primitive, Canada. He had already spoken to several other
fellows and two of them, Jim McCord and Bob Burch had fallen prey to
Willy's enthusiasm. The trip was tentatively set for November 17 - 23,
1991, and I just couldn't "pass up this chance of a lifetime", as he
put it. Besides, four hunters made a perfect - size party. I owed it to
myself and to them as well, to go. I told Willy I'd sleep on it and let
him know. I had to admit, it did sound exciting. Sleep on it I did,
except that sleep wouldn't come. By 6:00 next morning I had finally
dozed off when the phone woke me up. I caught it on about the 10th ring
to hear Willy's sickeningly cheerful voice yell at me, "Got your rifle
sighted in yet!?" Before I could collect my senses I blurted out "Yeah,
let's go!" "Whoopie!" he yelled. "We're meeting at my place tonite at 7
- see you there - late for work - gotta run ... CLICK".
It was several minutes before I decided it must have been for real and
not a nightmare. I hung up the phone. Morning coffee didn't do much to
wake me and I don't remember much about the rest of that day.
That nite we gathered at Willy's to plan our strategy. Willy decided we
had to have every minute detail pinned right away, even though we tried
to remind him that we had months before the "Big Event". But, he was
undeterred; "Remember the seven P's he told us: Proper Prior Planning
Prevents P..... Poor Performance". He was magnificent. Should have been
an actor. Hadn't missed a trick. There was a map of Alberta on the
wall, with our proposed route outlined in black felt pen, a big red
bull's eye on the city of Grande Prairie, outdoor magazines scattered
in simulated careless fashion all around, his collection of firearms
prominently displayed, along with his collection of rifle cartridges,
and, of course, the old, faded, dusty, stuffed deer head that he had
inherited from some long - forgotten relative (or had he bought it at a
garage sale?). By now the deer head was suffering from a severe case of
cracked nose and cracked lips. Willy had pulled out all his books by
Jack O'Connor and Col. Townsend Whelen, and "Hornady Handbook of
Cartridge Reloading". He explained that he was going to load manually a
batch of ammo just for this hunt. He had ample refreshments to get us
in the proper spirits, and he made sure that the proper spirits got
into us too.
If anyone ever got a real snow job, this was it. A classic. There was
no backing out now, and we all agreed to go and get our Boone &
Crockett Bulls during the two weeks of November 10 - 23. Willy would
arrange for guides and licenses. We would drive my 1985 GMC 4 x 4 and
Jim would drive his 1986 Ford 1/2 Ton. I would tow Willy's 18 foot
trailer.
We had 8 or 9 more meetings before the trip, and were completely
satisfied that we had not forgotten even the smallest detail. (Remember
those 7 P's!) We made and re-made lists of all the things we had to
bring, and Jim got into the mood to the extent where he put all the
lists on his word processor and everytime we got together, he gave each
of us revised photocopies. We studied road maps picked a guide from the
two Willy had been able to contact, and we analyzed hunting
regulations. Above all, we admired the $286.81 licenses. The cost
stunned each of us and we had some difficulty in convincing Bob not to
back out of the whole deal. The regulations came in a booklet of some
60 pages and needed that Proverbial Philadelphia lawyer to make any
sense.
"D" day finally came (that's "D" as in "Depart"). Saturday, November 9.
Our point of departure (P.O.D. as Willy called it) was carefully chosen
by him to be his house. This guy was unreal! The whole neighborhood
turned out to cheer us! Mothers were trying to haul their kids out of
Jim's truck when Bob and I arrived and by then his flower bed had been
trampled out of existence by many small feet. Dogs barked with
excitement, men were eying the operation with obvious thoughts of great
doubt, and one meat-head had actually called a newspaper reporter to
cover the situation. The poor guy wasn't at all sure of how to cover
this assignment. I could have crawled. Willy was jubilant. His wife and
kids bawled as they kissed him goodbye, but an hour later we finally
got the last 3-year old out of Jim's pickup and rolled proudly down the
waving, cheering street. Bob and I were in the lead and I tried to hide
my face by concentrating on things like my rear - view mirror. Bob
slouched down in his seat and hid behind the "1991 Alberta Guide to Big
Game Hunting". At one point, I'm sure he was holding it upside down.
We had gone a whole six blocks or so when I noticed that Jim and Willy
were no longer behind us. Now what!? We went back and found them along
the curb, out of gas. We were carrying lots of gas because we had heard
that gas prices in Alberta were super high, so they had just hauled out
a plastic Jerry can and were pouring it in. We were just about to head
out again when there was a loud crash in the trailer. "Oh no!" wailed
Willy, "I was sure I'd tied everything down tight!". He opened the door
and there, on the floor, sat a small boy, covered with jam, cookie
crumbs and broken dishes. Bob muttered a few unprintable phrases. It
became apparent that at this moment he was not a great lover of little
children. In order to save the child from an unknown but decidedly
unpleasant fate, I hauled him out and suggested Willy clean up the mess
while I returned the kid to the neighborhood from whence he came.
Just before the border we topped our tanks and refilled the Jerry can.
Turns out that even though Alberta has the largest gas and oil reserves
in the world, they charge an arm and two legs for it. And, they sell it
in "litres". And then, to add insult to injury, they add 7 percent
"G.S.T." ("Gouge and Screw Tax") on top of the price of everything
except most foods.
We reached the border and Jim and I pretended not to know Willy who was
bragging to anyone who would lend an ear about the huge bull he was
very close to bringing down. I heard one customs official whisper to
another, "Don't bother with that guy; he's too nuts to smuggle
anything." Fortunately we had not brought any handguns as we found that
they are illegal. Driving on, on Canadian soil, seemed to get into our
blood, and for the next few hours Bob and I swapped hunting lies.
Strangely enough, everything went well for the next few hundred miles
and then I had a blowout. We had plenty of spares with us. By late
afternoon we pulled into a government campsite and cooked up some
dinner. That done, we were about to hit the road again when Willy
casually mentioned that he could not find his truck keys. He had been
driving Jim's truck while Jim snoozed, having had to work the night
shift until 6 that morning. Poor Willy felt real bad, but the truth
was, they were gone. We started searching. Bob checked boxes of
groceries & dishes, Jim checked the inside of his truck, while
Willy and I crawled around on all fours, fingering every blade of grass
and turning over every dead leaf, gum wrapper and beer can. This
performance went on for 10 or 15 minutes and a small crowd gathered to
watch and photograph this unique performance. I noticed at least one
camcorder. One helpful tourist offered to help with his metal detector,
when Willy triumphantly announced, "Got 'em!" They had fallen out of
his shirt pocket. "But I never put them in there!" he told us in a
feeble attempt to excuse himself. As our little convoy pulled out of
that campsite I wondered what the various onlookers would tell their
friends when showing the pictures of these grown men crawling in the
dirt.
Aound midnite we pulled into another provincial government campsite to
catch a little shut-eye. Jim decided to take his rifle into the
trailer, explaining that it would be very easy for someone to steal it
from the truck. Panic struck me. Where was MY rifle? My beautiful
Remington ADL deluxe in 7 mm Rem. Magnum. I'd taken it in to get a few
scratches re-blued and had meant to pick it up on my way to our Point
Of Departure. In the excitement, I'd forgotten to pick it up! Now
what!? I decided to keep quiet and figure something out. For some
reason, I didn't sleep very well, and it wasn't because Willy insisted
on talking "moose" all night.
Over a tasteless breakfast of waffles (pre-baked, freshly toasted) I
decided to watch for an opportunity to buy another rifle if I could do
it without the guys noticing. An unlikely event. I was so disgusted
with myself that it never occurred to me to phone the gunsmith and have
him air-freight it to Grande Prairie.
Clearly, we were going north, because there were traces of snow along
the highway, and the further we went, the more snow. Traffic had kept
it off the pavement, though.
By 7:00 AM we were gobbling up the blacktop again. After being stopped
by the R.C.M.P. (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) who, we learned to our
dismay, have VERY fast horses and love handing out speeding tickets, we
hit the Peace River District by late afternoon. Near a town called
Valleyview (we never did see any valley), Bob rolled down his window,
pretending to be hot. It was doggone cold but the smell in the vehicle
suggested that he had some stomach disorder (no doubt as a result of
the excitement). Instead of getting better, the stink got worse. I felt
sorry and embarrassed for the guy and found myself rolling my window
down a little also; very cautiously. We suffered in silence for a mile
or two when Bob asked me if I'd like to stop awhile to try and settle
my stomach. "Who, me?" Then we realized the truth; the smell was
Hydrogen Sulfide gas from the numerous oil and gas wells in the area!
We made Grande Prairie around midnight and took rooms at a motel. Next
day being Sunday, we slept in and washed off the highway grime, and ate
hearty breakfasts at a downtown cafe. After that we called our guide,
Kent Lennox. Kent and his buddy Sam Lowe were to take care of us and
show us some trophy moose. Two friends of theirs were guiding four
hunters from Oregon in the same area we'd be hunting in. I confided in
Kent about my "no rifle" problem. He offered to lend me an old 30 - 06.
That suited me fine. He checked out our gear, licenses, and gave us a
short sermon on the legalities and illegalities, particularly the
illegality of "poaching". The penalties are extremely severe.
That afternoon we headed south of town, into the woods on roads built
and used by logging and oil exploration businesses. There was enough
snow, packed down on the road, that there was no problem with dust. In
summer, they told us, dust is a real hazard. The road was rough,
though. Maybe gravel crushers have not yet been introduced into that
area, because some of the rocks on that road were the size of
softballs. "Wapiti Pea Gravel" they called it, the Wapiti being the
river along which the gravel pits are found.
Some twenty miles from town we passed the last farm and Kent decided we
best get our rifles ready, but "nothing up the spout, and actions
OPEN". The road seemed to go forever, and I figured if this kept up,
we'd soon be back in the US of A.
Near dark we pulled off the road onto a trail. It was narrow, rutted
and winding. Top speed 1 1/4 miles per hour, except up there, it is
kilometers per hour. To top it off, it was now pretty well dark. Days
are short up there at that time of year. Sunup was at about 10 to 8 and
sundown near 4:30. Doesn't leave much time for hunting.
A mile or so down the trail was a small clearing wherein stood a large
old tent. A lantern hung on a pole in front. On a blue crate from a
dairy sat an grizzled old man wearing an apron, railroader's cap,
cowboy boots, bluejeans full of holes, clearly showing his long johns,
and a soggy cigarette but. Sam introduced Clem. No last name was
mentioned. Clem, it appeared, had not seen a bathtub in 3 or 4 weeks,
and must have had his last shave at that same time. A dog of unknown
heritage lay in front of the tent and looked at us as if to say, "Why
do you guys keep bringing these Yankees up here all the time?". Clem
was supposed to look after camp, help butchering, and cook. The dog was
known as Smoky (after the river by the same name).
We moved our gear into the tent and had some tea. The stove in the tent
made things very warm indeed. Sam, about 25, took it upon himself to
"Educate you Yanks". He proudly told us he had shot 14 moose to date. I
did not ask how that fitted in with the illegalities of poaching. He
made a point of telling us about previous hunters who had shot horses,
mistaking them for cow moose. There was no cow season now, so "look for
antlers". We also learned that, contrary to popular belief south of the
49th, moose do not live in water. We felt that to prevent "those guys
from Oregon" from getting our moose, we should start early. As we
planned our strategy, Clem served an unidentifiable supper on paper
plates. Unidentifiable, but tasty.
About 1:00 AM we sacked out. Surprisingly, we all slept well. Even
Willy. The alarm rudely awoke us after what seemed like minutes. It was
7 AM. After a breakfast of bacon, eggs, coffee and waffles, we loaded
the rifles and headed out. It was light enough to see, and the first
thing I saw was an amazing ATV. I'd seen only pictures of an ARGO until
now. Kent took Willy and Jim on foot, down the trail. Sam was taking
Bob and me in the Argo, down a seismograph trail, or "cutline". The
Argo seated Bob and Sam in the front, while I sat in the back with a
lot of ropes, chainsaw, etc. etc. On 8 very soft tires, all under
power, we travelled over all sorts of terrain. Once when we got to a
beaverdam, and the water was at least 3 feet deep and 20 feet wide, Sam
just kept driving. I wanted to stop him; thought he'd fallen asleep.
"No problem", he assured us. "Hang on". I did.
In a moment it was clear that all 8 tires were now off the ground and
we were "boating". All 8 tires kept us moving slowly to the other side.
When we got there, however, we had a problem. The bank was too slick
for the front tires to get a grip, and we just sat there, with the
wheels spinning. Once again, Sam's "No problem" reassured me. He
climbed out over the front of the machine, loosened the winch cable,
ran it to the nearest tree, climbed back in and winched us out, "slick
as snot" as he put it.
When we got to an intersection of cutlines, Sam parked the machine and
sent each of us in a different direction on foot, with clear
instructions to "stay on the line; don't go into the bush". He was not
taking any chances of one of his hunters getting lost in the bush. He
had been lost, at 17, and never forgot that awful experience. The
cutlines showed promise; tracks of deer, elk, moose, coyotes, and an
occasional bear. When I suggested to Sam that there must be a lot of
moose, judging by the tracks, he reminded me that one moose makes an
awful lot of tracks, and anyway, "tracks make very thin soup".
At one of my many stops I saw something black far ahead, on the line.
My heart skipped a beat; would I be the first of our group to bag my
trophy? Visibility was poor. The trees on the line were 4 - 5 feet
high. I stalked - and stalked - and stalked. Finally I was close enough
to see that the black critter was indeed a moose .... BUT, no antlers!
A cow!
Around noon the three of us met and ate the lunches Clem had sent with
us. The others had seen a coyote but my tale of stalking a moose got
the adrenalin flowing in all of our group. That afternoon we hunted in
the same manner as we had that morning. No game was spotted.
Supper consisted of beans ("whistle berries" Sam called them) and
hamburgers. I did not recognize the meat; hoped it was moose but was
afraid to ask in case it was bear. Beans are not my favorite and sure
enough, at 3:15 AM Mother Nature gave the call that could not be
ignored. Sure is cold up there in November, at night, in snow, among
the trees, squatting in the weeds. The guys had built a "Johnson's
Bar"; a 3' piece of poplar nailed horizontally on two standing poplar
trees, 3 feet high, on which you can "sit". Behind the bar was a hole
about 2 feet deep. It was 100 feet from the tent and in the middle of
the night, I just didn't want to go that far. On my way back to the
sack I tripped over Smoky. He had been sleepng - snoring in fact - and
I should have heard him. I dove headlong into Ken't cot, knocking him
completely off. This, in turn, hit the table, causing several cups and
an open can of coffee to clatter to the dirt floor. Everyone woke up,
assuming a grizzly had come to visit. Smoky, his reverie rudely
terminated, leapt to the far end of the tent and hid under a bench.
Everytime he saw me after this outrage, he made a point of keeping
clear.
Tuesday morning came all too soon. Tuesday was a carbon copy of Monday,
with the exception that Jim and Kent saw a small black bear. Supper was
also a repeat of Monday's supper. This must have been about the only
thing Clem had learned to cook because we had it every day.
On Wednesday we awoke to rain. It had warmed up during the night,
"Chinook" they told us, and the snow was gone. In its place was mud.
Slimy, sticky "gumbo". We decided to try to get back to the main,
gravelled road to get back to town for a shower. I led the way. We had
not gone 200 yards before I slipped off the trail and into a very
sturdy poplar tree, crunching a fender. My poor truck! Willy, always on
the bright side, exclaimed, "Look at the bear claw marks on that tree!"
I was impressed. How did he recognize them? Jim whispered to me that
Kent had pointed out a similar tree to Willy a day earlier.
We did make it to town and enjoyed some refreshing showers at a motel.
The next few days were rather uneventful but we did see 2 more cow
moose, 3 muledeer does, 4 whitetailed does, another coyote and another
bear; this one was brown in color. We also saw what we thought, was a
bull moose, but it was too far to see well and we could not get closer.
Anxiety was haunting Bob and me; maybe we should never have listened to
Willy. Then our luck changed.
All six of us headed down a cutline together. We walked about 1 1/2
miles and got to a muskeg, or swamp. Sam was a short distance ahead of
us and he suddenly stopped, got down and signalled for us to get down
and keep quiet. We crawled up to him, and there, 300 yards away, in the
swamp, stood a large bull moose and two cows. We froze. It had been
previously determined that Bob would get first shot. Willy was beside
himself with excitement. "GET HIM!" he yelled as he threw up his rifle
and fired two fast shots. The moose looked at us. Willy's rifle jammed.
Now Bob took his shot. He took careful aim and dropped the bull with a
single shot. It was dead before it splashed down into the swamp. As the
air around Willy was turning blue, a second bull stepped out of the
trees as the cows milled nervously around, confused.
Jim told me, "No, you go ahead" and I'm not one to turn down an
invitation like that. It took me three shots to knock him down. All
three were solid hits; you could tell by the echoing sound of bullet
hitting. We waded to our trophies with a very embarrassed but
enthusiastic Willy leading the way while he kept blaming his rifle and
congratulating us.
Both moose were dead and the cows had run off. Then the work started.
Sam and Kent congratulated each one of us and Kent used his portable CB
radio to call Clem and ask him to bring the Argo. He arrived quickly
and we skidded the two animals to dry ground. There we gutted and
quartered one of them. We left the hide on because there was no snow
now, and the hide would keep them cleaner. It was cold enough that we
did not have to worry too much about cooling the meat fast. Our guides
made sure that we tagged our moose immediately. The tag is a flat metal
band which has to be fastened through the space between the bone and
the tendon of a hind leg directly above the hock and around either the
bone or the tendon. They also explained to us that evidence of sex had
to be left attached to the same quarter to which the tag was attached.
Well, we would have no problem finding some evidence of the sex of
these big brutes. They were huge. We threw the quarters of one into the
back of the Argo and Sam climbed on top. Willy got in the front with
Sam and they headed back to camp. Then we processed number two and Sam
got back before we were done. Sam hauled the second one back and the
rest of us walked.
Back at camp Sam had hung all the quarters on horizontal poles and had
hung tarps over them to keep the Whiskey Jacks (or "Canada Jays") off.
Bob's bull had antlers 43 inches wide, and mine were 42.
Bob and I hunted with cameras the from then on, while Willy and Jim
tried to get their moose. One day I went with Willy and we saw a bull
moose. We came to where two cutlines intersected. As we looked to the
right and left, there stood Willy's bull, only about 100 yards away,
browsing on willow. "NOW!" I told him. "Oh, Man!" he exclaimed,
throwing up his rifle. He fired. Nothing happened. He shot again. And
again. The moose began to walk into cover. Willy fired until his rifle
was empty. The moose was gone. As Willy reloaded, I rushed to where the
bull had been, to look for blood. Nothing. We followed his tracks
several hundred yards into the bush, but there was not a drop of blood.
"I can't understand it" he moaned, "my sights must have got jarred."
Back at camp we put up a target at 100 yards. He drilled it dead
centre! Buck fever!
The last day came too quickly. Jim and Willy were getting panicky.
Still no trophies. We left early; Sam, Willy and I in the Argo. We went
several miles, parked and proceeded on foot. Jim wanted to check out an
area he had a good feeling about, so he and Kent went there on foot.
Ahead was a beaver dam. There are beavers all over that country. In
about 3 feet of water stood a young bull. Nearby was a cow. "O.K.
Willy, this is it!" I told him. Willy lined up his rifle. I could see
he was tense; super tense. If he blew this one, he would be walking
home and he knew it.
"There's my bull" he whispered hoarsely. I urged him to relax, breathe
slowly and deeply, keep calm and aim carefully. My coaching was good,
his listening was good, but his luck was not. As he started to squeeze,
the cow began to move. As the shot exploded she was directly in front
of the bull. For one horrifying second I thought, "Oh, no!" But,
reality took solid hold. Willy's bull ran off and the cow made one
terrific splash.We were too stunned to even notice the bull as
he disappeared into the trees.
I don't think I will be hunting with Willy again.

Let's say a guy named Roger is attracted to a woman named Elaine. He
asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A
few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy
themselves.
They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're driving home, a thought occurs to
Elaine, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: ''Do you
realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly
six months?''
And then there is silence in the car. To Elaine, it seems like a very
loud silence. She thinks to herself: Wow, I wonder if it bothers him
that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship;
maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation
that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.
And Roger is thinking: Gosh. Six months.
And Elaine is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of
relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so
I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the
way we are, moving steadily toward . . . I mean, where are we going?
Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy?
Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime
together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even
know this person?
And Roger is thinking: . . . so that means it was . . . let's see
..February when we started going out, which was right after I had the
car at the dealer's which means . Let me check the odometer. Whoa! I am
way overdue for an oil change here.
And Elaine is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm
reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our
relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed even
before I sensed it -- that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet
that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own
feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.
And Roger is thinking: And I'm gonna have them look at the transmission
again. I don't care what those morons say, it's still not shifting
right. And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this
time. What cold weather? It's 87 degrees out, and this thing is
shifting like a damn garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent
thieves $600.
And Elaine is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be
angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't
help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.
And Roger is thinking: They'll probably say it's only a 90- day warranty. That's exactly what they're gonna say, the scumbags.
And Elaine is thinking: maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a
knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting right
next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person
I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A
person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic
fantasy.
And Roger is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I'll give them a
damn warranty. I'll take their warranty and stick it right up their....
.
''Roger,'' Elaine says aloud.
''What?'' says Roger, startled.
''Please don't torture yourself like this,'' she says, her eyes
beginning to brim with tears. ''Maybe I should never have . .Oh I feel
so.....'' (She breaks down, sobbing.)
''What?'' says Roger.
''I'm such a fool,'' Elaine sobs. ''I mean, I know there's no knight. I
really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse.''
''There's no horse?'' says Roger.
''You think I'm a fool, don't you?'' Elaine says.
''No!'' says Roger, glad to finally know the correct answer.
''It's just that . . . It's that I . . . I need some time,'' Elaine says.
(There is a 15-second pause while Roger, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe response. Finally he comes up with one
that he thinks might work.) ''Yes,'' he says.
(Elaine, deeply moved, touches his hand.)
''Oh, Roger, do you really feel that way?'' she says.
''What way?'' says Roger.
''That way about time,'' says Elaine.
''Oh,'' says Roger. ''Yes.''
(Elaine turns to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him
to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it
involves a horse. At last she speaks.)
''Thank you, Roger,'' she says.
''Thank you,'' says Roger.
Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured
soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Roger gets back to his place,
he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes
deeply involved in a rerun of a tennis match between two
Czechoslovakians he never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of
his mind tells him that something major was going on back there in the
car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand
what, and so he figures. it's better if he doesn't think about it.
(This is also Rogers policy regarding world hunger.)
The next day Elaine will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of
them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours.
In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and
everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every
word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every
possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off
and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite
conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.
Meanwhile, Roger, while playing racquetball one day with a mutual
friend of his and Elaine's, will pause just before serving, frown, and
say: ''Norm, did Elaine ever own a horse?'

I am the foundation of all business and the fount of all prosperity.
I am the parent of genius.
I have laid the groundwork for every fortune in Canada.
I must be loved before I can bestow my greatest blessings and achieve my greatest ends. Loved, I make
life purposeful and fruitful.
I can do more to advance a youth than his own parents, no matter how rich they are.
Fools hate me. Wise men love me.
I am represented in every loaf of bread that comes from the oven, in every train that crosses the
continent, in every newspaper that comes off the press.
I am the mother of democracy. All progress springs from me.
Who am I? I am WORK.

(I wrote this one to my Mom that year - Ken L)
Another year has come and gone. Not long now and we expect to be at the
end of a millennium. Happens only once every thousand years! And what
about the next 1,000 ..........?
What wonders will technology bring? What things in common use today
will be found to be dangerous? What wars will start? What wars will
end? What will China's population be at the end of that millennium?
Will the Golden Arches be able to develop a new and better hamburger?
What diseases will be eradicated? Will new forms of Aids and Ebola come
along? Will they find a cure for the common cold? What will cars look
like in 2999? Will they find Jimmy Hoffa? Will they find that Elvis did
die? Will TV and computers be combined into one? How fast will
computers go? What animal species will disappear? What new islands will
emerge from the deep? What lands will be destroyed by flood, earthquake
or volcano? Will electronic chips be implanted in our bodies to improve
our minds, facilitate communication, to replace the need for
credit/debit cards or cash, or protect us? Will we be required to have
"the mark of the beast" placed on our bodies before we can buy or sell?
Will politicians become honest? Will we finally get serious about
punishing violent criminals? Will the Russians ever realize that
Communism doesn't work? Will humans walk on other planets? Will we see
the edge of the universe? And, if we do, what will we see on the other
side?? Will we decide that "there is a God after all?" Will we discover
the secret of gravity? The secrets of matter and antimatter? What
incredible video effects will we see on TV? Will we have color TV (with
remote control, of course) in our wrist watches? Will Oprah lose
weight? How big a fish will I catch? Will all our video tapes, taken
before 2000, be completely blank by 2017? Will people still wear
glasses? Will books and (cable) TV disappear? Will global warming
inundate low-lying countries? Will Christmas letters disappear? Will
the earth be obliterated by a huge comet? Will God stand up and make
the call to end it all? Will we extract dinosaur DNA and bring a
Brontosaurus back to life? Will the Titanic be raised? Will we discover
who made Stonehenge, when and why? Will they leave Princess Di alone?
Will we find Atlantis? Will we learn how to grow square trees? Will we
see the advent of truly intelligent computers? Will we put a final end
to smoking? Will cars and trucks still run on gasoline or diesel? Will
they still need roads? Will we be in constant and immediate
communication, with voice and video, using wrist communicators? Will we
learn how to talk with animals? Will we find intelligent life on other
planets and communicate with them? Will we find a way to collect solar
energy out in space and beam it to collectors on earth? Will we take
weekend vacations to other planets, or to the bottom of the ocean? Will
everyone be on the Internet? Will the Canada Pension Plan and the Old
Age Pension be nothing more than a dim memory? Will there be a single
"wild" animal left which is not wearing a radio collar? Or a bird
without a leg-band? Will animal parts be routinely implanted in humans
to replace worn out parts? Will the hole in the ozone layer be plugged?
Can we go out and enjoy the sun again? How big a deer will I bag? Will
a huge asteroid crash into earth, causing an overnight ice age? Will
proof come out that O.J. Simpson was guilty? Will Bill Gates become a
trillionaire? Will Canada remain as one country as we knew it in 1996?
How much memory will Personal Computers have? Will the "traditional"
family still exist? Will icebergs be towed to the coast of Africa and
melt water be pumped from them to turn the Sahara desert into lush
farmland? Will we realize that not only do we need capital punishment,
but that it is correct, just and scriptural? Will oriental traditional
medicine cause the complete elimination of the remaining tigers, rhinos
and black bears from the face of our planet? Will we put an end to the
torture and slaughter of human babies, that is, abortion? Will computer
keyboards and mice disappear and be replaced by a microphone? Will we
discover that crop circles are made by creatures we cannot see;
creatures who live in a different dimension? Will we find a way to
shrink a person to the size where he/she can walk through the eye of a
needle, and then restore them to normal size? Will we build microscopes
so powerful that we can see sub-atomic particles? Will we find a
parallel universe? Will the alchemists' dream of turning base metals
into gold finally come true? Will humans quit wearing fur? Will
trappers invent a perfectly humane trap that will satisfy the animal
rights movement? Will we learn how to manipulate the weather? Will men
have babies? Will garbage accumulate to the point where there is no
room left for people?Or will we find it economical to blast
garbage into outer space; perhaps into the everlasting fires of the
sun? Will any of our astronauts be lost in space? How fast will jet
aircraft fly? Will we learn to travel in time; "back to the future", or
back in time? Will we enjoy 3-D, High Definition television? Will the
crime rate make it so unsafe to go out of doors that we all will become
prisoners in our own homes? Will Noah's ark be found and recovered?
Will we discover too late that the pollution of our soil, our water and
our air, due to pesticides, herbicides, hormones and industrial waste
has doomed all of us? In what year will it be fair to say, "The
Japanese have now taken over the world?" Will a cosmic visitor in the
year 3000 find that the most intelligent life left on planet Earth is a
cockroach? Will we learn the secrets of time and space? Will we find
that sub-atomic particles are actually "universes", complete with
planets populated by "people" just like ourselves? Will we discover
that our solar system is only an "atom" in a speck of dust floating in
some gigantic person's living room? Will the Irish quit slaughtering
each other? Will the $5 bill be replaced by a coin; a "quintoonie?" Or
will cash disappear altogether? Will anyone still "go to work" or will
we all just "walk to the computer?" Will the male of the human species
become completely sterile due to pollutants? And if they do, what will
women do; mate with chimps? Will there be any "take home" pay left,
after taxes? Will peace come to the Middle East? What will be the years
inscribed on my tombstone? Will any part of Canada NOT be owned by
foreigners by the year 2100? What are they going to refer to as "the
last frontier?"
Many of these questions may have a happy answer, many an unhappy one. What can I do to make more of
them "happy?"
Have a Wonderful Christmas, and all the very best wishes for a happy, healthy, wealthy 1997, from:
Ken Laninga

EMPLOYEE
PERFORMANCE EVALUATION NAME
OF EMPLOYEE: ________________________ COMPANY NAME:
________________________ PLUS
POINTS EARNED: _________ MINUS POINTS EARNED: _________ TOTAL
POINTS EARNED: ___________
PERFORMANCE FACTORS FAR
EXCEEDS JOB REQUIREMENTS EXCEEDS
JOB REQUIREMENTS
MEETS
JOB REQUIREMENTS NEEDS
SOME IMPROVEMENT DOES
NOT MEET REQUIREMENTS POINTS +2 +1 0 -1 -2 QUALITY leaps
tall buildings in a single bound must
take a running start to leap over building can
leap over short buildings only crashes
into building when trying to jump it cannot
recognize any buildings at all TIMELINESS is
faster than a speeding bullet is
as fast as a speeding bullet not
quite as fast as a speeding bullet would
you believe a slow bullet(?) wounds
self while trying to shoot INITIATIVE is
stronger than a locomotive is
stronger than a bull elephant is
stronger than a bull shoots
the bull smells
like a bull ADAPTABILITY walks
on water consistently walks
on water in emergencies washes
with water drinks
water passes
water in emergencies COMMUNICA-
TION talks
with the Prime Minister talks
with cabinet ministers talks
to himself argues
with himself loses
these arguments ACTIVITIES fishes
with dry flies exclusively uses
wet flies also, on occasion has
been known to use a single-hook spoon used
a treble-hook lure once uses
worms