Heartwarming…

A woman’s husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several months, yet she had stayed by his bedside every single day.

One day, when he came to, he motioned for her to come nearer.

As she sat by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, ‘You know what? ‘You have been with me all through the bad times.

When I got fired, you were there to support me.

When my business failed, you were there.

When I got shot by that robber, you were by my side.

When we lost the house, you stayed right there.

When my health started failing, you were still by my side… You know what?’

‘What dear?’ she gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.

‘I think you’re bad luck… get the hell away from me.’

Interstate 90

It’s pretty unlikely that you, or any of us for that matter, will be traveling thru or across South Dakota this weekend, but just in case:  I-90 will be closed this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  They are hauling a 200 ton lump of coal from Pennsylvania to South Dakota so they can add President Obama to Mount Rushmore!!

Fun with Google! A Great Time-waster!

A friend recently sent me an email with all these codes in it. Thinking that his email MUST be infected with a virus, I didn’t even try the codes, as he indicated. Well, I’ve tried them out – there’s no virus, just lots of fun with Google! Try them out for yourself!

Go to www.Google.com/images and type something (anything) into the box, and wait for the images to come up.

Then, go to the address bar, and one at a time, copy/paste the following codes in it.

Watch what happens! ( Whomever came up with this really needs to get a life!)

1. javascript:R= 0; x1=.1; y1=.05; x2=.25; y2=.24; x3=1.6; y3=.24; x4=300; y4=200; x5=300; y5=200; DI= document.images ; DIL=DI.length; function A(){for(i=0; i<DIL; i++){DIS=DI[ i ].style; DIS.position=’absolute’; DIS.left=Math. sin(R*x1+ i*x2+x3)* x4+x5; DIS.top=Math. cos(R*y1+ i*y2+y3)* y4+y5}R++ }setInterval(‘A()’,5); void(0)

2. javascript:R=0; x1=.1; y1=.05; x2=.25; y2=.24; x3=1.6; y3=.24; x4=300; y4=200; x5=300; y5=200; DI=document.getElementsByTagName(“img”); DIL=DI.length; function A(){for(i=0; i-DIL; i++){DIS=DI[ i ].style; DIS.position=’absolute’; DIS.left=(Math.tan(R*x1+i*x2+x3)*x4+x5)+”px”; DIS.top=(Math.tan(R*y1+i*y2+y3)*y4+y5)+”px”}R++}setInterval(‘A()’,5); void(0);

3. javascript:R=0; x1=.1; y1=.05; x2=.25; y2=.24; x3=1.6; y3=.24; x4=300; y4=200; x5=300; y5=200; DI=document.images; DIL=DI.length; function A(){for(i=0; i<DIL; i++){DIS=DI[ i ].style; DIS.position=’absolute’; DIS.left=Math.sin(R*x1+i*x2+x3)*x4+x5; DIS.top=Math.cos(R*y1+i*y2+y3)*y4+y5}R++}setInterval(‘A()’,5); void(0)

4. javascript:R=0; x1=.1; y1=.05; x2=.25; y2=.24; x3=1.6; y3=.24; x4=300; y4=200; x5=300; y5=200; DI=document.getElementsByTagName(“img”); DIL=DI.length; function A(){for(i=0; i-DIL; i++){DIS=DI[ i ].style; DIS.position=’absolute’; DIS.left=(Math.sin(R*x1+i*x2+x3)*x4+x5)+”px”; DIS.top=(Math.cos(R*y1+i*y2+y3)*y4+y5)+”px”}R++}setInterval(‘A()’,50); void(0);

5. javascript:R=0; x1=.1; y1=.05; x2=.25; y2=.24; x3=1.6; y3=.24; x4=300; y4=200; x5=300; y5=200; DI=document.getElementsByTagName(“img”); DIL=DI.length; function A(){for(i=0; i-DIL; i++){DIS=DI[ i ].style; DIS.position=’absolute’; DIS.left=(Math.sin(R*1+i*x2+x3)*x1+x2)+”px”; DIS.top=(Math.cos(R*y1+i*y2+y3)*y4+y5)+”px”}R++}setInterval(‘A()’,50); void(0);

6. javascript:R=0; x1=.1; y1=.05; x2=.25; y2=.24; x3=1.6; y3=.24; x4=300; y4=200; x5=300; y5=200; DI=document.getElementsByTagName(“img”); DIL=DI.length; function A(){for(i=0; i-DIL; i++){DIS=DI[ i ].style; DIS.position=’absolute’; DIS.left=(Math.tan(R*x1+i*x2+x3)*x4+x5)+”px”; DIS.top=(Math.tan(R*y1+i*y2+y3)*y4+y5)+”px”}R++}setInterval(‘A()’,5); void(0);

Widdle Wabbit

A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks, in the sweetest little lisp, between two missing teeth,

“Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?”

As the shopkeeper’s heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he’s on her level and asks, “Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there?”

She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a tiny quiet voice,

“I don’t think my python weally gives a thit.”

Obama’s First 100 Days

You know, someone once said that when a black man would be elected as President “When Pigs Fly”…. Well, what do you know, Swine Flu….

YEEEESSSS! Band Geeks 2 – Thugs 0

DON’T MESS WITH BAND GEEKS! Okay, really, really cool story coming out of California about a marching band chick beating up two male assailants. Here’s the full story, directly reprinted from Yahoo:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090430/ap_on_fe_st/odd_marching_band_beating

QUARTZ HILL, Calif. – Don’t mess with a marching band girl, especially one armed with a baton. A 17-year-old high school marching band student beat up two assailants who tried to mug her as she walked to school in this high desert community about 40 miles north of Los Angeles, sheriff’s officials said Tuesday.

The girl punched one of the men in the nose, kicked the other in the groin and beat both with her large baton before she ran away on Friday morning, officials said.

“The moral to this story is don’t mess with the marching band girls, or you just might get what you deserve,” said Los Angeles County sheriff’s Deputy Michael Rust.

He said two men approached the girl from behind, grabbed her coat and demanded money. Deputies searched near Quartz Hill High School for the muggers, looking for a man who was holding his bloodied nose and the other limping.

No arrests have been made, but Rust said it appears the girl made her point to her assailants.

“Final score: Marching band 2, thugs 0,” Rust quipped.

Drunken Confession

A drunken man staggered in to a Catholic church and sat down in a
confession box, saying nothing.

The bewildered priest coughed to attract his attention, but still the
man said nothing.

The priest then knocked on the wall three times in a final attempt to
get the man to speak.

Finally, the drunk replied, “No use knockin’, mate, there’s no paper in
this one either.”

Tax Alert!

Snopes does not list this as “false,” but you still might want to check this out with the IRS and/or your Senators and Representatives.

Income taxes are normally due on April 15th unless that date falls on a Saturday or Sunday, in which case they are due on Monday the 16th or 17th. However, I have been told that rule has recently been changed for this and for at least the next 4 years, tax payments will not be due until you are nominated for a cabinet position.

Please check with your tax adviser to confirm.

The Postcard

For several years, a man was having an affair with an Italian woman.

One night, she confided in him that she was pregnant. Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his marriage, he paid her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18. She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born.

To keep it discreet, he told her to simply mail him a post card, and write ‘Spaghetti’ on the back. He would then arrange for the child support payments to begin. One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife.

“Honey”, she said, “you received a very strange post card today”. “Oh, just give it to me and I’ll explain it later”, he said.

The wife did and watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted.

On the card was written: ”Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. Three with meatballs, two without – Send extra sauce”.

The Blonde and Ice Fishing

A blond woman wanted to go ice fishing. She had seen many books on the subject, and finally getting all the necessary tools together, she made for the ice.

After positioning her comfy footstool, she started to make a circular cut in the ice. Suddenly, from the sky, a voice boomed,

‘THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.’

Startled, the blond woman moved further down the ice, poured a thermos of cappuccino, and began to cut yet another hole. Again,
from the heavens the voice bellowed,

‘THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.’

The blond, now worried, moved away, clear down to the opposite end of the ice. She set up her stool once more and tried again to cut her hole. The voice came once more,

‘THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.’

She stopped, looked skyward! and said, ‘IS THAT YOU LORD?’

The voice replied, ‘NO, THIS IS THE MANAGER OF THE HOCKEY RINK’