Pocket Tazer

(NOTE:  This has apparently been floating around on the Internet for a while...and I love a good laugh.  Someone emailed this to my wife, who shared it with me...and I can't breath.  Enjoy!)

A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer.

The effects of the Tazer were supposed to be short lived, with no long term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button and pressed it against a metal surface at the same time, I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and then thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.

Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and Tazer in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; and a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and thinking to myself, 'no possible way!'

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side so as to say, 'Don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny lil ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it.

I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and...

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD.WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION…WHAT THE…!!!

I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs! The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all  over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution: there is NO such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor! A three second burst would be considered conservative! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I had crapped in my shorts, but was too numb to know for sure, and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head, which I believe came from my hair.

I'm still looking for my testicles and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!

PS: My wife can't stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift and now regularly threatens me with it!

If you think education is difficult, try being stupid!!!!

The Lexiphanic Version of THe Night Before Christmas

(I found this in my email box...it's a bit after the holidays...but still worth the read...)


'Twas the Night Before Christmas' as written by a technical writer for a firm that does Gov't contracting...

'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence, kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus. Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically through their cerebrums.

My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller. With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective cognomen - "Now Daasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a commodious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about- face, placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage.

He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."

1/6 Morning Report

I've been hit by the flu, so I thought I would do something light today. My 12 year old sent this to me the other day. In this time of political bruhaha, I thought this was appropriate to share. Meet Gollum...I mean, Hillary...I mean...well, you decide.

If Dogs Sent Letters To God...

(...something fun for Thanksgiving...remember to say thanks for those who are standing in harm's way for their loved ones and their country somewhere on the earth...but especially our own soldiers...Happy Thanksgiving everyone...)

IF DOGS SENT LETTERS TO GOD...

Dear God: Why do humans smell flowers, but seldom, if ever, smell one another?

Dear God: When we get to heaven, can we sit on your couch? Or is it the same old story?

Dear God: Why are there cars named after the Jaguar, the Cougar, the Mustang, the Colt, the Stingray, and the Rabbit, but not ONE named for a dog? How often do you see a Cougar riding around? We dogs love a nice ride! Would it be so hard to rename the 'Chrysler Eagle' the 'Chrysler Beagle'?

Dear God: If a dog barks his head off in the forest and no human hears him, is he still a bad dog?

Dear God: We dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent IDs, electromagnetic energy fields, and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?

Dear God: More meatballs, less spaghetti, please.

Dear God: When we get to the Pearly Gates, do we have to shake hands to get in?

Dear God: Are there mailmen in Heaven? If there are, will I have to apologize?

Dear God: In Heaven, will I still have to take the blame for people's farts?

Dear God: Let me give you a list of just some of the things I must remember to be a good dog:

1. I will not eat cat's food before they eat it or after they throw it up.

2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc., just because I like the way they smell.

3. I will not munch on "leftovers" in the kitty litter box; although they are tasty, they are not food.

4. The diaper pail is not a cookie jar.

5. The sofa is not a face towel; neither are Mom and dad's laps.

6. The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.

7. My head does not belong in the refrigerator.

8. I will not bite the officers hand when he reaches in for mom's Drivers License and registration.

9. I will not play tug-of-war with dad's underwear when he's on the toilet.

10. Sticking my nose into someone's crotch is not an acceptable way of saying 'hello.'

11. I do not need to suddenly stand straight up when I'm laying under the coffee table.

12. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house.

13. I will not throw up in the car.

14. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt across the carpet.

15. I will not sit in the middle of the living-room and lick my crotch when company is over.

16. The cat is not a squeaky toy; so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it's usually not a good thing.

Dear God: May I have my testicles back?

Media Spin Defined....

OK…First of all, I know this is not true. Visit snopes.com if you want the details. So, second, this is not aimed at passing on muck about Sir…I mean, Madaam… Hillary. She does just fine at generating this stuff on her own. I am posting this because…well…if this isn’t the perfect description of how politicians of all stripes twist things around, I don’t know what is! Besides...it's election time again! So, enjoy!


A professional genealogical researcher,
discovered that Hillary Clinton's great-great uncle,
Remus Rodham, was hanged for horse stealing and train
robbery in Montana in 1889.

The only known photograph of Remus shows him standing
on the gallows. On the back of the picture is this
inscription:

"Remus Rodham; horse thief, sent to Montana
Territorial Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the
Montana Flyer six times. Caught by Pinkerton
detectives, convicted and publicly hanged in 1889."

Judy e-mailed Hillary Clinton for comments. Hillary's
staff of professional image adjusters sent back the
following biographical sketch:

"Remus Rodham was a famous cowboy in the Montana
Territory. His business empire grew to include
acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate
dealings with the Montana railroad.

Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his
life to service at a government facility, finally
taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad.

In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation
run by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In
1889, Remus passed away during an important civic
function held in his honor when the platform upon
which he was standing collapsed."

Two Test Tickles

(...it's the weekend...so i'm sharing another one from my email box…enjoy…)

There is a factory in Northern Minnesota that makes the "Tickle Me Elmo" toys The toy laughs when you tickle it under the arms. Well, Lena, a slow but very dependable lady is hired at the "Tickle Me Elmo" factory and she reports for her first day promptly at 8 AM.

The next day there is a knock on the Personnel Manager's door. The Foreman throws open the door and begins to rant and rave about the new employee. He complains that she is incredibly slow and the whole line is backing up, putting the entire production line behind schedule. The Personnel Manager decides he should see this for himself. The two men march down to the factory floor.

When they get there, the line is so backed up that "Tickle Me Elmo's" are all over the floor and they are really beginning to pile up. At the end of the line stands Lena surrounded by mountains of "Tickle Me Elmo's". She has a roll of plush red fabric and a huge bag of small marbles. The two men watch in amazement as she cuts a little piece
of fabric, wraps it around two marbles and begins to carefully sew the little package between Elmo's legs.

The Personnel Manager bursts into laughter. After several minutes of hysterics he pulls himself together and approaches Lena. "I'm sorry," he says to her, barely able to keep a straight face, "....but I think you misunderstood the instructions I gave you yesterday. Your job is to give Elmo two test tickles!"

Dog Food Diet

(...I hadn't planned on posting today...but this came to my email box and was just too good not to share...)

I have 2 dogs & I was buying a large bag of Purina at Wal-Mart and was in line to check out.

A woman behind me asked if I had a dog. On impulse, I told her that no, I was starting The Purina Diet again, although I probably shouldn't because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry & that the food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again.

I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story, particularly a guy who was behind her. Horrified, she asked if I'd ended up in the hospital in that condition because I had been poisoned. I told her no; it was because I'd been sitting in the street licking my balls and a car hit me.

I thought one guy was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard as he staggered out the door.

Stupid lady...why else would I buy dog food??

The Pastor's Ass

The rural pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won. The pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and It won again.

The local paper read: PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT.

The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.

The next day, the local paper headline read: BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the pastor to get rid of the donkey. The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent.

The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day: NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.

The bishop fainted . He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.

The next day the paper read: NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.

The next day the headlines read: NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE.

The bishop was buried the next day.
........................................................

(...the moral of the story is....being concerned about public opinion can bring you much grief and misery...and even shorten your life. So be yourself and enjoy life...

Stop worrying about everyone else's ass and you'll be a lot happier and live longer!...)

A New Virus

There is a new virus circulating. It is called "WORK." If you receive WORK from your colleagues, your boss, or from anyone else, do not touch it under any circumstances.

This virus wipes out your private life completely. If you should happen to come in contact with this virus, take two friends and go straight to the nearest bar. Order drinks immediately and after three rounds, you will find that WORK has been completely deleted from your brain. If you don't drink, check out the Dairy Queen Hot Fudge Brownie Supreme! Chocolate is a good substitute!

Forward this virus warning immediately to at least five friends.

Should you realize you do not have five friends, this means you are already infected by this virus and WORK already controls your life. If this is the case, go to the nearest bar and stay until you make at least five friends.

(...I think I have five friends, but I am not entirely positive, so I'm headed for the DQ anyway...it never hurts to be safe...)

Despair, Inc.

Here is something to get your weekend started with a laugh. These images are from Despair Inc..







Personally, I thought they were perfect stand alone statements on the Dhimmicrat Congress, and government in general here in the US.

HAPPY WEEKEND!

Installing Vista

For those who have been terrified..or terrorized, for that matter...with installing the Windows Vista on your computer, this video should help.

(...there...don't you feel better now?...)

Out of the Mouths of Bears...

(...here's a little soemthing to laugh your way into the weekend with...)

An atheist was walking through the woods and said to himself, "What majestic trees! What powerful rivers! What beautiful animals!"

As he walked alongside the river, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. He turned to look and saw a 7-foot grizzly charge towards him.

He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing in on him. He looked over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer. He tripped and fell on the ground.

He rolled over to pick himself up but saw that the bear was right on top of him, reaching for him with his left paw and raising his right paw to strike him.

At that instant, the Atheist cried out, "Oh my God!"

Time stopped…The bear froze...The forest was silent.

As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky.

"You deny my existence for all these years, teach others I don't exist, and even credit creation to cosmic accident. "Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"

The atheist looked directly into the light and said, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask You to treat me as a Christian now, but…perhaps...You could make the BEAR a Christian?"

"Very Well," said the voice.

The light went out…The sounds of the forest resumed.

The bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together, bowed his head, and spoke:

"Lord bless this food, which I am about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen."

Kid Fun

If you have ever wanted...uummm...needed...a reason to NEVER leave young children unsupervised...here's a couple of good ones...





(...yeah they may be staged...or photo shopped...but who cares...just enjoy...)

Ask Your Pharmacist...

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?

Do you suffer from shyness?

Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Tequila®.

Tequila® is the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions. Tequila® can help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you're ready and willing to do just about anything. You will notice the benefits of Tequila® almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live. Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with Tequila®.

Tequila® may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila®. However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or attempting to become pregnant are encouraged to try it. Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, unexpected wedlock, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all- night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

If You Can...

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 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 friend,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

If you can relax without liquor,

If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,


...Then You Are Probably The Family Dog!

(...by the way...thanks to everyone who has hung in here through tax season...it's finally over so in the next few days, I'll be returning to the old form...so stay tuned...)

The Retirement Dinner

A priest was being honored at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the parish.

A leading local politician was chosen to make the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner. He was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited.

"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss's wife, taken illegal drugs, and gave VD to his sister.

I was appalled. But as the days went on I knew that my congregation were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people.".....

Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived full of apologies at being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk. "I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first one to go to him in confession."

(...be honest...how many politicians are you wishing this would happen to RIGHT NOW?...)

Dead Duck

(...one more week of tax season...and I can get back to real blogging...in the meantime...)

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon. As she
laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.

After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, "I'm so sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away."

The distressed owner wailed, "Are you sure"?

"Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead," he replied.

"How can you be so sure"? She protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room, and returned a few moments later with a black Labrador Retriever.

As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom.

He then looked at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog and took it out, and returned a few moments later with a cat.

The cat jumped up on the table and also sniffed delicately at the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100 percent certifiably, a dead duck."

Then the vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.

The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$150!" she cried. “$150 just to tell me my duck is dead"?

"The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry. If you'd taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20, But with the lab report and the cat scan, it's now $150.”

Hero?....or Villain!

I found this over at One Man Bandwidth. He did a write up on Spiderman in China. Loved the cartoon. Then, I saw the quiz. Now for those who don’t know…there are actually two of them! Are you a super villain? Or a super hero…or maybe both? I took both…probably shouldn’t have…

My Super Heroresults:
You are Hulk
You are a wanderer with amazing strength.

Hulk 70% Superman 65% Spider-Man 60% Green Lantern 60% Catwoman 55% Iron Man 55% Supergirl 50% Robin 47% The Flash 40% Wonder Woman 30% Batman 30%

Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...


My Super Villainresults:
You are Lex Luthor
A brilliant businessman on a quest for world domination and
the self-proclaimed greatest criminal mind of our time!

Lex Luthor 57% Apocalypse 55% Magneto 53% Dr. Doom 52% Riddler 51% The Joker 47% Kingpin 47% Green Goblin 40% Mr. Freeze 39% Venom 39% Mystique 36% Juggernaut 36% Dark Phoenix 34% Catwoman 29% Poison Ivy 22% Two-Face 20%

Click here to take the "Which Super Villain am I?" quiz.


So…who did you turn out to be?

Texas Women

Three men were sitting together bragging about how they had given their new wives duties.

The first man had married a woman from MINNESOTA and had told her that she was going to do dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple days, but on the third day, he came home to a clean house and dishes washed and put away.

The second man had married a woman from NORTH CAROLINA He had given his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes, and the cooking. The first day he didn't see any results, but the next day he saw it was better. By the third day, he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done, and there was a huge dinner on the table.

The third man had married a girl from TEXAS. He told her that her duties were to keep the house cleaned, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn't see anything, the second day he didn't see anything, but by the third day some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, enough to fix himself a bite to eat and load the dishwasher.

Butch, the Rooster

John the farmer was in the fertilized egg business. He had several hundred young hens called pullets and eight or ten roosters, whose job was to fertilize the eggs.

The farmer kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into the soup pot and was replaced. That took an awful lot of his time so he bought a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone so John could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing.

Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells. The farmers favorite rooster was old Butch, a very fine specimen he was too. But on this particular morning John noticed old Butch's bell hadn't rung at all! John went to investigate.

The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover. But, to Farmer John's amazement, Butch had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one. John was so proud of Butch, he entered him in the county fair and Butch became an overnight sensation among the judges.

The result... The judges not only awarded Butch the "No Bell Piece Prize" but they also awarded him the "Pulletsurprise" as well.

Clearly Butch was a Politician in the making. Who else could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention?