Smile, Giggle, Laugh... Your Life Depends On It.
The day finally arrived. Forrest Gump dies and goes to Heaven. He is at the Pearly Gates, met by St. Peter himself. However, the gates are closed, and Forrest approaches the gatekeeper.
St. Peter said, “Well, Forrest, it is certainly good to see you. We have heard a lot about you I must tell you, though, that the place is filling up fast, and we have been administering an entrance examination for everyone. The test is short, but you have to pass it before you can get into Heaven.” [Read more…]
Recently, I was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. – Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.
This is how it manifests:
I decided to wash my car. As I start toward the garage, I notice that there is mail on the hall table. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car. I lay my car keys down on the table, put the junk mail in the trashcan under the table, and notice that the trashcan is full.
So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the trash first. But then I think, since I’m going to be near the mailbox when I take out the trash anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.
I take my checkbook off the table, and see that there is only one check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go to my desk where I find the bottle of coke that I had been drinking.
I’m going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the coke aside so that I don’t accidentally knock it over. I see that the coke is getting warm, and I decide I should put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.
As I head toward the kitchen with the coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye–they need to be watered. I set the coke down on the counter, and I discover my reading glasses that I’ve been searching for all morning.
I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I’m going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly I spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, we will be looking for the remote, but nobody will remember that it’s on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I’ll water the flowers.
I splash some water on the flowers, but most of it spills on the floor.
So, I set the remote back down on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.
Then I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.
At the end of the day: the car isn’t washed, the bills aren’t paid, there is a warm bottle of coke sitting on the counter, the flowers aren’t watered, there is still only one check in my checkbook, I can’t find the remote, I can’t find my glasses, and I don’t remember what I did with the car keys.
Then when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I’m really baffled because I know I was busy all day long, and I’m really tired. I realize this is a serious problem, and I’ll try to get some help for it, but first I’ll check my e-mail.
Do me a favor, will you? Forward this message to everyone you know, because I don’t remember to whom it has been sent.
This is a heads up to those friends who haven’t experienced it yet, and an explanation to those friends and family who have. Most of you have read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. Well, read on. While the kidney story was an urban legend, this one is not. It’s happening every day.
My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else’s thighs. The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for years? Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.
Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was next. I know it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear end (although badly attached at least three inches lower than my original) to the thighs they stuck me with earlier. Now, my rear end complimented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion.
It was two years ago when I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was fixing my hair and I watched horrified but fascinated as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced one section at a time. How clever and fiendish.
Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up, unnoticed, something like maturity. NO, I was being attacked repeatedly and without warning. In despair I gave up my T-shirts. What could they do to me next?
My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it now resembled. That’s why I decided to tell my story. I can’t take on the medical profession by myself.
Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee. That really isn’t plastic that those surgeons are using. You KNOW where they are getting those replacement part, don’t you? The next time you suspect someone has had a face “lifted”, look again. Was it lifted from you? I think I finally found my thighs…and I hope Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!
This is not a hoax. This is happening to women in every town every night. WARN YOUR FRIENDS.
P.S. I must say that last year I thought someone had stolen my breasts. I was lying in bed and they were gone! As I jumped out of bed I was relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.
You could hardly see for all the snow,
Spread the rabbit ears as far as they go.
Pull a chair up to the TV set,
“Good Night, David. Good Night, Chet.”
Depending on the channel you tuned,
You got Rob and Laura or Ward and June.
It felt so good. It felt so right.
Life looked better in black and white.
I Love Lucy, The Real McCoys,
Dennis the Menace, the Cleaver boys,
Rawhide, Gunsmoke, Wagon Train,
Superman, Jimmy and Lois Lane.
Father Knows Best, Patty Duke,
Rin Tin Tin and Lassie too,
Donna Reed on Thursday night! —
Life looked better in black and white.
I wanna go back to black and white.
Everything always turned out right.
Simple people, simple lives…
Good guys always won the fights.
Now nothing is the way it seems,
In living color on the TV screen.
Too many murders, too many fights,
I wanna go back to black and white
In God they trusted, alone in bed they slept,
A promise made was a promise kept.
They never cussed or broke their vows.
They’d never make the network now.
But if I could, I’d rather be
In a TV town in ’53.
It felt so good. It felt so right.
Life looked better in black and white.
I’d trade all the channels on the satellite,
If I could just turn back the clock tonight
To when everybody knew wrong from right.
Life was better in black and white!
Pass this to someone (over age 40, of course), and brighten their day by helping them to remember that life’s most simple pleasures are very often the best!!!