On their way to get married, a young Catholic couple is involved in a fatal car accident.
The couple find themselves sitting outside the Pearly Gates waiting for
St. Peter to process them into Heaven. While waiting, they begin to wonder: Could they possibly get married in Heaven?
When St. Peter showed up, they asked him.
St. Peter said, 'I don't know. This is the first time anyone has asked. Let me go find out,' and he leaves.
The couple sat and waited, and waited. Two months passed and the couple are still waiting. As they waited, they discussed that if they were allowed to get married in Heaven, what was the eternal aspect of it all. 'What if it doesn't work?' they wondered, 'Are we stuck together forever?'
After yet another month, St. Peter finally returns, looking somewhat bedraggled.
'Yes,' he informs the couple, 'you can get married in Heaven.'
'Great!' said the couple, 'But we were just wondering, what if things don't work out? Could we also get a divorce in Heaven?'
St. Peter, red-faced with anger, slammed his clipboard onto the ground.
'What's wrong?' asked the frightened couple.
'OH, COME ON!', St. Peter shouted, 'It took me three months to find a priest up here! Do you have any idea how long it'll take me to find a Lawyer?!'
Monday, November 8, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Anniversary Gift
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!
P.s... 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 !!!
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!
P.s... 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 !!!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Cinderella - 70 years later
Cinderella is now 95 years old.
After a fulfilling life with the now dead prince, she happily sits upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat named Bob for companionship.
One sunny afternoon out of nowhere, appeared the fairy godmother.
Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years"?
The fairy godmother replied, "Cinderella, you have lived an exemplary life since I last saw you. Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?" "Three wishes are granted you!"
Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, she uttered her first wish: "The prince was wonderful, but not much of an investor. I'm living hand to mouth on my disability checks, and I wish I were wealthy beyond comprehension.
Instantly her rocking chair turned into solid gold.
Cinderella said, "Ooh, thank you, Fairy Godmother"
The fairy godmother replied, "It is the least that I can do What do you want for your second wish?"
Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said, "I wish I were young and full of the beauty and youth I once had."
At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful young visage returned. Cinderella felt stirrings inside of her that had been dormant for years.
And then the fairy godmother spoke once more: "You have one more wish; what shall it be?"
Cinderella looks over to the frightened cat in the corner and says, "I wish for you to transform Bob, my old cat, into a kind and handsome young man."
Magically, Bob suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up that, when he stood before her, he was a man so beautiful the likes of him neither she nor the world had ever seen.
The fairy godmother said, "Congratulations, Cinderella, enjoy your new life."
With a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, the fairy godmother was gone as suddenly as she appeared.
For a few eerie moments, Bob and Cinderella looked into each others eyes.
Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most beautiful, stunningly perfect man she had ever seen.
Then Bob walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, & held her close in his young muscular arms.
He leaned in close, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath as he whispered...
"Bet you're sorry you neutered me."
After a fulfilling life with the now dead prince, she happily sits upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat named Bob for companionship.
One sunny afternoon out of nowhere, appeared the fairy godmother.
Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years"?
The fairy godmother replied, "Cinderella, you have lived an exemplary life since I last saw you. Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?" "Three wishes are granted you!"
Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, she uttered her first wish: "The prince was wonderful, but not much of an investor. I'm living hand to mouth on my disability checks, and I wish I were wealthy beyond comprehension.
Instantly her rocking chair turned into solid gold.
Cinderella said, "Ooh, thank you, Fairy Godmother"
The fairy godmother replied, "It is the least that I can do What do you want for your second wish?"
Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said, "I wish I were young and full of the beauty and youth I once had."
At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful young visage returned. Cinderella felt stirrings inside of her that had been dormant for years.
And then the fairy godmother spoke once more: "You have one more wish; what shall it be?"
Cinderella looks over to the frightened cat in the corner and says, "I wish for you to transform Bob, my old cat, into a kind and handsome young man."
Magically, Bob suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up that, when he stood before her, he was a man so beautiful the likes of him neither she nor the world had ever seen.
The fairy godmother said, "Congratulations, Cinderella, enjoy your new life."
With a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, the fairy godmother was gone as suddenly as she appeared.
For a few eerie moments, Bob and Cinderella looked into each others eyes.
Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most beautiful, stunningly perfect man she had ever seen.
Then Bob walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, & held her close in his young muscular arms.
He leaned in close, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath as he whispered...
"Bet you're sorry you neutered me."
Friday, September 24, 2010
Hair Removal
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
Read on.........
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet."
So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!
OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.
Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip)
I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRRRIIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!...
OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe.................. OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair.
I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it.
Where is the hair???
WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not! I touch. I am touching wax.
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax?
Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???
*WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - The water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter "So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.
YEAH!!!!! Right!!
I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor . Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.
What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care.
"IT WORKS!!
It works !!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....
THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!
So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts.
I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color......
Read on.........
My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet."
So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom.
It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off. No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax," yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!
OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.
Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip)
I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRRRIIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!...
OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe.................. OK, back to normal.
I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair.
I hold up the strip!
There's no hair on it.
Where is the hair???
WHERE IS THE WAX???
Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not! I touch. I am touching wax.
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!" What can I do to melt the wax?
Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???
*WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - The water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit. Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water. Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!! I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter "So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.
YEAH!!!!! Right!!
I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor . Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.
What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend. It's sooo painful, but I really don't care.
"IT WORKS!!
It works !!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....
THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!
So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts.
I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color......
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Cat's Diary
DOG DIARY
8:00am- Dog food! My favourite thing!9:30 am- A car ride! My favourite thing!
9:40 am- A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am- Got patted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm- Lunch! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm- Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm- Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
5:00 pm- Milk bones! My favourite thing!
7:00 pm- Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
8:00 pm- Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00pm- Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!
CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity.My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.
In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe.
For now... The Cat!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Law Court Transcripts
These are from a book called Disorder in the American Courts, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.
Q: Are you sexually active?
A: No, I just lie there.
__________________________________
Q: What is your date of birth?
A: July 15th.
Q: What year?
A: Every year.
______________________________________
Q: What gear were you in at the moment of the
impact?
A: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.
_____________________________________
Q: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your
memory at all?
A: Yes.
Q: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
A: I forget.
Q: You forget? Can you give us an example of
something that you've forgotten?
_____________________________________
Q: How old is your son, the one living with you?
A: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember
which.
Q: How long has he lived with you?
A: Forty-five years.
____________________________________
Q: What was the first thing your husband said to
you when he woke up that morning?
A: He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"
Q: And why did that upset you?
A: My name is Susan.
______________________________________
Q: Do you know if your daughter has ever been
involved in voodoo or the occult?
A: We both do.
Q: Voodoo?
A: We do.
Q: You do?
A: Yes, voodoo.
_______________________________________
Q: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person
dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until
the next morning?
A: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
___________________________________
Q: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old
is he?
_____________________________________
Q: Were you present when your picture was taken?
______________________________________
Q: So the date of conception (of the baby) was
August 8th?
A: Yes.
Q: And what were you doing at that time?
______________________________________
Q: She had three children, right?
A: Yes.
Q: How many were boys?
A: None.
Q: Were there any girls?
______________________________________
Q: How was your first marriage terminated?
A: By death.
Q: And by whose death was it terminated?
______________________________________
Q: Can you describe the individual?
A: He was about medium height and had a beard.
Q: Was this a male, or a female?
______________________________________
Q: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant
to a deposition notice, which I sent to your
attorney?
A: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
______________________________________
Q: Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed
on dead people?
A: All my autopsies are performed on dead people.
______________________________________
Q: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What
school did you go to?
A: Oral.
______________________________________
Q: Do you recall the time that you examined the
body?
A: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
Q: And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?
A: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I
was doing an autopsy.
______________________________________
Q: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
______________________________________
Q: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did
you check for a pulse?
A: No.
Q: Did you check for blood pressure?
A: No.
Q: Did you check for breathing?
A: No.
Q: So, then it is possible that the patient was
alive when you began the autopsy?
A: No.
Q: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
A: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
Q: But could the patient have still been alive,
nevertheless?
A: Yes, it is possible that he could have been
alive and practicing law somewhere
Q: Are you sexually active?
A: No, I just lie there.
__________________________________
Q: What is your date of birth?
A: July 15th.
Q: What year?
A: Every year.
______________________________________
Q: What gear were you in at the moment of the
impact?
A: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.
_____________________________________
Q: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your
memory at all?
A: Yes.
Q: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
A: I forget.
Q: You forget? Can you give us an example of
something that you've forgotten?
_____________________________________
Q: How old is your son, the one living with you?
A: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember
which.
Q: How long has he lived with you?
A: Forty-five years.
____________________________________
Q: What was the first thing your husband said to
you when he woke up that morning?
A: He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"
Q: And why did that upset you?
A: My name is Susan.
______________________________________
Q: Do you know if your daughter has ever been
involved in voodoo or the occult?
A: We both do.
Q: Voodoo?
A: We do.
Q: You do?
A: Yes, voodoo.
_______________________________________
Q: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person
dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until
the next morning?
A: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
___________________________________
Q: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old
is he?
_____________________________________
Q: Were you present when your picture was taken?
______________________________________
Q: So the date of conception (of the baby) was
August 8th?
A: Yes.
Q: And what were you doing at that time?
______________________________________
Q: She had three children, right?
A: Yes.
Q: How many were boys?
A: None.
Q: Were there any girls?
______________________________________
Q: How was your first marriage terminated?
A: By death.
Q: And by whose death was it terminated?
______________________________________
Q: Can you describe the individual?
A: He was about medium height and had a beard.
Q: Was this a male, or a female?
______________________________________
Q: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant
to a deposition notice, which I sent to your
attorney?
A: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
______________________________________
Q: Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed
on dead people?
A: All my autopsies are performed on dead people.
______________________________________
Q: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What
school did you go to?
A: Oral.
______________________________________
Q: Do you recall the time that you examined the
body?
A: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
Q: And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?
A: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I
was doing an autopsy.
______________________________________
Q: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
______________________________________
Q: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did
you check for a pulse?
A: No.
Q: Did you check for blood pressure?
A: No.
Q: Did you check for breathing?
A: No.
Q: So, then it is possible that the patient was
alive when you began the autopsy?
A: No.
Q: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
A: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
Q: But could the patient have still been alive,
nevertheless?
A: Yes, it is possible that he could have been
alive and practicing law somewhere
Neologisms
Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.
Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease.
Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
Ignoranus (n): A person who's stupid AND an asshole corplaining, present participle Griping, grousing, and otherwise complaining about the corporation you work for.
Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.
Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.
Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease.
Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
Ignoranus (n): A person who's stupid AND an asshole corplaining, present participle Griping, grousing, and otherwise complaining about the corporation you work for.
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