370.01 Any person with a valid in-state rodent or snake hunting licensemay also hunt and harvest attorneys for recreational and sport(non-commercial) purposes.
370.02 Taking of attorneys with traps or dead-falls is permitted. Theuse of United States currency as bait, however, is prohibited.
370.03 The willful killing of attorneys with a motor vehicle isprohibited, unless such vehicle is an ambulance being driven in reverse.However, it is legal to take attorneys with a moving vehicle ifthere are measurable skid marks at the killsite indicating an effort
to avoid the kill. If an attorney is accidentally struck by a motor vehicle,
the dead attorney should be removed to the roadside, and the vehicle
should proceed immediately to the nearest car wash.
370.04 It is unlawful to chase, herd or harvest attorneys from a powerboat, airplane, helicopter or other aircraft.
370.05 It is unlawful to shout, "WHIPLASH", "AMBULANCE", or "FREESCOTCH" for the purposes of trapping attorneys.
370.06 Except during Wednesday afternoons, it is unlawful to hunt
attorneys within 100 yards of BMW, Mercedes or Porsche dealerships.
370.07 It is unlawful to hunt attorneys within 200 yards of courtrooms orlaw libraries. However, attorneys may be taken at health clubs, country
clubs, hospitals or brothels.
370.08 If an attorney gains elective office, it is not necessary to havea license to hunt, trap or possess the same.
370.09 It is unlawful for a hunter to wear a disguise as a reporter,accident victim, physician, chiropractor or tax accountant for thepurpose of hunting attorneys.
370.10 Bag and Possession Limits per day:
Yellow-bellied sidewinders, 2;Two-faced tortfeasors, 1;
Back-stabbing divorce litigators, 3;
Horn-rimmed cut-throats, 2;
Minutiae-advocating dirtbags, 4.
Honest attorneys are protected by the Endangered Species Act.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Born Baptist
Each Friday night after work, Bubba would fire up his outdoor grill and cooka venison steak. But, all of Bubba's neighbors were Catholic....And since it was Lent, they were forbidden from eating meat on Friday. The deliciousaroma from the grilled venison steaks was causing such a problem for the Catholic faithful that they finally talked to their priest.The Priest came to visit Bubba, and suggested that he become a Catholic.After several classes and much study, Bubba attended Mass, and as the priestsprinkled holy water over him, he said, "You were born a Baptist, and raised a Baptist, but now you are a Catholic." Bubba's neighbors were greatlyrelieved, until Friday night arrived, and the wonderful aroma of grilledvenison filled the neighborhood. The Priest was called immediately by the neighbors, and, as he rushed into Bubba's yard, clutching a rosary andprepared to scold him, he stopped and watche in amazement. There stoodBubba, clutching a small bottle of holy water which he carefully sprinkled over the grilling meat and chanted: You wuz born a deer, you wuz raised adeer, but now you is a catfish.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The wish
A man was riding his Harley along a California beach when suddenly the sky clouded above his head and, in a booming voice, the Lord said, "Because you have tried to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish.
The biker pulled over and said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can ride over anytime I want."
The Lord said, "Your request is materialistic, think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking; the supports required reaching the bottom of the Pacific and the concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little more
time and think of something that could possibly help mankind."
The biker thought about it for a long time. Finally, he said, "Lord, I wish that I and all men could understand women; I want to know how she feels inside, what she's thinking when she gives me the silent treatment, why she cries, what she means when she says nothing's wrong, and how I can make a woman truly happy."
The Lord replied, "You want two lanes or four on that bridge?
The biker pulled over and said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can ride over anytime I want."
The Lord said, "Your request is materialistic, think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking; the supports required reaching the bottom of the Pacific and the concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little more
time and think of something that could possibly help mankind."
The biker thought about it for a long time. Finally, he said, "Lord, I wish that I and all men could understand women; I want to know how she feels inside, what she's thinking when she gives me the silent treatment, why she cries, what she means when she says nothing's wrong, and how I can make a woman truly happy."
The Lord replied, "You want two lanes or four on that bridge?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Indian Wisdom
Two Eagles, an old Indian chief, sat in his hut on the reservation smoking a ceremonial pipe and eyeing two US government officials sent to interview him. One US official said to Chief Two Eagles, "You have observed the white man for 90 years. You've seen his wars and his technological advances. You've seen his progress, and the damage he has done." The Chief nodded in agreement. The official continued, "Considering all these events, in your opinion, where did the white man go wrong?" The Chief stared at the two government officials for over a minute, and then he calmly replied: "When white man found the land, Indians were running it. No taxes, No debt, Plenty buffalo, Plenty beaver, Women did all the work, Medicine man free, Indian man spent all day hunting and fishing, All night having sex."
Then the chief leaned back and smiled before he added, "Only white man dumb enough to think he could improve system like that."
Then the chief leaned back and smiled before he added, "Only white man dumb enough to think he could improve system like that."
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Always believe in MIRACLES!!
Always believe in MIRACLES!! Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl.
"Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?"
"Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly.
Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.
Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas.
When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted.
"What is it?" Santa asked warmly.
"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but ." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors. "The girl in the photograph... my granddaughter well, you see ... she has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa, any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."
Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "this is the least I can do."
When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to Children's Hospital.
"Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon.... I'll take you there," Rick said softly.
Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall.
Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah. Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"
"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes in tact. Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room.
As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year. As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels.
"Oh, yes, Santa... I do!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you, "he said. Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night.... all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all. When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own.
"Now, Sarah, "he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!" He knew it was risky proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.
"Yes, Santa! "Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room. Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly rushed to Santa's side to thank him.
"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him.
One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap. "Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"
"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her.
After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment.
"You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw dropped.
Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope.
This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas!
If you believe in miracles you will pass this on...I did!
Be this a true story or not it is nice to think that there is someone or something out there looking after us. A little love can go a long way.
"Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?"
"Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly.
Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly.
Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas.
When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted.
"What is it?" Santa asked warmly.
"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but ." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors. "The girl in the photograph... my granddaughter well, you see ... she has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa, any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."
Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "this is the least I can do."
When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to Children's Hospital.
"Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon.... I'll take you there," Rick said softly.
Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall.
Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah. Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"
"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes in tact. Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room.
As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year. As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels.
"Oh, yes, Santa... I do!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you, "he said. Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night.... all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all. When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own.
"Now, Sarah, "he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!" He knew it was risky proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.
"Yes, Santa! "Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room. Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly rushed to Santa's side to thank him.
"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him.
One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap. "Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"
"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her.
After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment.
"You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw dropped.
Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope.
This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas!
If you believe in miracles you will pass this on...I did!
Be this a true story or not it is nice to think that there is someone or something out there looking after us. A little love can go a long way.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
This may be the best Living Will ever
I,__________________, being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be
kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.
Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of pinhead
Politicians who couldn't pass ninth grade biology if their lives
depended on it, or lawyers/doctors interested in simply running up the bills.
If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to ask for at least
One of the following:
Glass of wine
Chocolate
Margarita
Sex
Martini
Cold Beer
Chocolate
Chicken fried steak
Cream gravy
Sex
Mexican food
Chocolate
French fries
Chocolate
Pizza
Sex
Ice cream
Cup of tea
Chocolate
Chocolate
Sex
Chocolate
It should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a
Determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person and
attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes, let the 'fat
lady sing,' and call it a day!
kept alive indefinitely by artificial means.
Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the hands of pinhead
Politicians who couldn't pass ninth grade biology if their lives
depended on it, or lawyers/doctors interested in simply running up the bills.
If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to ask for at least
One of the following:
Glass of wine
Chocolate
Margarita
Sex
Martini
Cold Beer
Chocolate
Chicken fried steak
Cream gravy
Sex
Mexican food
Chocolate
French fries
Chocolate
Pizza
Sex
Ice cream
Cup of tea
Chocolate
Chocolate
Sex
Chocolate
It should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a
Determination is reached, I hereby instruct my appointed person and
attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes, let the 'fat
lady sing,' and call it a day!
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