<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:13:24.181-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PeteSilverBlog.com</title><subtitle type='html'>Wide Ranging Commentary on Politics, the Art of Writing, Publishing, Small Business Marketing, the Need for Constructive Innovation -- and Straight-to-the-Gut  Humor, too!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>429</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-116205283228880868</id><published>2006-10-28T12:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T12:50:13.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's in a name?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A good looking man walked into an agent's office in Hollywood and said "I want to be a movie star." Tall, handsome and with experience on Broadway, he had the right credentials. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The agent asked, "What's your name?" &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The guy said, "My name is Penis van Lesbian." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The agent said, "Sir, I hate to tell you, but in order to get into Hollywood, you are going to have to change your name." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I will NOT change my name! The van Lesbian name is centuries old, I will not disrespect my grandfather by changing my name. Not ever." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The agent said, "Sir, I have worked in Hollywood for years... you will NEVER go far in Hollywood with a name like Penis van Lesbian! I'm telling  you, you will HAVE TO change your name or I will not be able to represent you." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"So be it! I guess we will not do business together" the guy said and he left the agent's office. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;FIVE YEARS LATER..... The agent opens an envelope sent to his office. Inside the envelope is a letter and a check for $50,000. The agent is awe-struck, who would possibly send him $50,000? He reads the letter enclosed... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Dear Sir, &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Five years ago, I came into your office wanting to become an actor in Hollywood, you told me I needed to change my name. Determined to make it with my God-given birth name, I refused. You told me I would never make it in Hollywood with a name like Penis van Lesbian. After I left your office, I thought about what you said. I decided you were right. I had to change my name. I had too much pride to return to your office, so I signed with another agent. I would never have made it without changing my name, so the enclosed check is a token of my appreciation. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your advice. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Sincerely, &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Dick van Dyke&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-116205283228880868?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/116205283228880868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/116205283228880868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/10/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s in a name?'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115813059085365942</id><published>2006-09-13T02:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T02:56:30.870-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Kiss Means</title><content type='html'>*Kiss on the stomach-----"Let’s have sex" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Forehead ----"Forever you will be mine" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Ear ---"I'm horny" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Cheek ---"We're friends" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Hand ---"I adore you" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Neck ---"We belong together" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Shoulder ---"I want you" &lt;br /&gt;*Kiss on the Lips ---"I love you" OR "I want you" &lt;br /&gt;*Holding Hands ---"We can learn to love each other" &lt;br /&gt;*Slap on the Butt ---"That's mine" &lt;br /&gt;*Playing with the Ear ---"I can't live without you" &lt;br /&gt;*Holding on tight ---"Don't let go" &lt;br /&gt;*Looking into each other's Eyes ---"Don't leave me" &lt;br /&gt;*Playing with Hair on Head ---"Tell me you love me" &lt;br /&gt;*Arms around the Waist ---"I love you too much to let go" &lt;br /&gt;*Laughing while Kissing ---"I am completely Comfortable with you" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Advice-- &lt;br /&gt;* Don’t ask for a kiss, take one. &lt;br /&gt;*If you were thinking about someone while reading this, you're definitely in Love (or strong like).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115813059085365942?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115813059085365942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115813059085365942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-kiss-means.html' title='What a Kiss Means'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115802648733896074</id><published>2006-09-11T22:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T22:01:27.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Worker's Lament</title><content type='html'>1. My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned: couldn't concentrate.&lt;br /&gt;2. Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the axe.&lt;br /&gt;3. After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it. Mainly because it was a sew-sew job.&lt;br /&gt;4. Next I tried working in a muffler factory but that was exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;5. I worked as a pilot but eventually got grounded for taking off too much.&lt;br /&gt;6. Then I tried teaching but I couldn't make the grade.&lt;br /&gt;7. I spent a few years as a psychiatrist but everyone's problems drove me crazy.&lt;br /&gt;8. I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn't cut it.&lt;br /&gt;9. Then I tried to be a chef—I figured it would add a little spice to my life but I just didn't have the thyme.&lt;br /&gt;10. I attempted to be a deli worker but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut the mustard.&lt;br /&gt;11. My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn't noteworthy.&lt;br /&gt;12. I was a pretty good eye doctor, but I could not stay focused on the job.&lt;br /&gt;13. I worked a long time as a doctor.  I gave it my best shot, but I didn't have enough patients.&lt;br /&gt;14. Next was a job in a shoe factory; but it never touched my sole.&lt;br /&gt;15. The Energizer Battery Company hired me but then expected me to keep going and going and going...&lt;br /&gt;16. I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live on my net income.&lt;br /&gt;17. Thought about becoming a witch so I tried that for a spell.&lt;br /&gt;18. I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining.&lt;br /&gt;19. I got a job at a zoo feeding giraffes but I was fired because I wasn't up to it.&lt;br /&gt;20. So then I got a job at a gym but they said I wasn't fit for the job.&lt;br /&gt;21. Of course, I tried being a secretary, but it turned out not to be my type of work.&lt;br /&gt;22. My years as an exterminator were pretty good, but I got tired of the rat race.&lt;br /&gt;23. Next, I found being an electrician interesting, but the work was shocking even thought it kind of turned me on.&lt;br /&gt;24. I was a gardener for a while, but I didn't grow with the job even though I was raking in money.&lt;br /&gt;25. My career as a comedian was a stand-up success, but the critics thought I was a big joke.&lt;br /&gt;26. After many years of trying to find steady work I finally got a job as a historian until I realized there was no future in it.&lt;br /&gt;27. My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit because it was always the same old grind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115802648733896074?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115802648733896074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115802648733896074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/workers-lament.html' title='Worker&apos;s Lament'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115792945210001778</id><published>2006-09-10T18:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T19:04:12.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You are on a horse ...</title><content type='html'>You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On your right side is a sharp drop off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo and your horse is unable to overtake it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the Kangaroo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation ??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;If you do not know, see answer below. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Get your drunk ass off of the merry-go-round !!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115792945210001778?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115792945210001778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115792945210001778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/you-are-on-horse.html' title='You are on a horse ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115790859775646089</id><published>2006-09-10T13:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T13:16:37.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Teacher Arrested</title><content type='html'>NEW YORK -- A public school teacher was arrested today at John F. Kennedy International Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a set square, a slide rule and a calculator. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a morning press conference, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-gebra movement. He did not identify the man, who has been charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Al-gebra is a problem for us," Gonzales said. "They desire solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in search of absolute values. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'There are 3 sides to every triangle'." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, he would have given us more fingers and toes."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115790859775646089?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115790859775646089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115790859775646089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/teacher-arrested.html' title='Teacher Arrested'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115767455056447613</id><published>2006-09-07T20:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T20:18:52.266-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dictionary for Decoding Women's Personal Ads</title><content type='html'>40-ish................................49. &lt;br /&gt;Adventurous.....................Slept with everyone. &lt;br /&gt;Athletic...............................No breasts. &lt;br /&gt;Average looking....................Moooo. &lt;br /&gt;Beautiful...........................Pathological liar. &lt;br /&gt;Emotionally Secure................On medication. &lt;br /&gt;Feminist................................Fat. &lt;br /&gt;Free spirit............................Junkie.. &lt;br /&gt;Friendship first......................Former slut. &lt;br /&gt;New-Age.............Body hair in the wrong places. &lt;br /&gt;Old-fashioned.......................No BJs. &lt;br /&gt;Open-minded.......................Desperate. &lt;br /&gt;Outgoing..........................Loud and Embarrassing. &lt;br /&gt;Professional..........................Bitch. &lt;br /&gt;Voluptuous..........................Very Fat. &lt;br /&gt;Large frame.........................Hugely Fat. &lt;br /&gt;Wants Soul mate..................Stalker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMEN'S ENGLISH: &lt;br /&gt;1. Yes = No &lt;br /&gt;2. No = Yes &lt;br /&gt;3. Maybe = No &lt;br /&gt;4. We need = I want &lt;br /&gt;5. I am sorry = You'll be sorry &lt;br /&gt;6. We need to talk = You're in trouble &lt;br /&gt;7. Sure, go ahead = You better not &lt;br /&gt;8. Do what you want = You will pay for this later &lt;br /&gt;9. I am not upset = Of course, I am upset, you moron! &lt;br /&gt;10. You're certainly attentive tonight = Is sex all you ever think about? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MEN'S ENGLISH: &lt;br /&gt;1. I am hungry = I am hungry &lt;br /&gt;2. I am sleepy = I am sleepy &lt;br /&gt;3. I am tired = I am tired &lt;br /&gt;4. Nice dress = Nice cleavage! &lt;br /&gt;5. I love you = Let's have sex now &lt;br /&gt;6. I am bored = Do you want to have sex? &lt;br /&gt;7. May I have this dance? = I'd like to have sex with you. &lt;br /&gt;8. Can I call you sometime? = I'd like to have sex with you. &lt;br /&gt;9. Do you want to go to a movie? = I'd like to have sex with you. &lt;br /&gt;10. Can I take you out to dinner? = I'd like to have sex with you. &lt;br /&gt;11. I don't think those shoes go with that outfit = I'm gay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115767455056447613?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115767455056447613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115767455056447613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/dictionary-for-decoding-womens.html' title='Dictionary for Decoding Women&apos;s Personal Ads'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115722335644627255</id><published>2006-09-02T14:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T15:13:31.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why did the chicken cross the road?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he must first deal with the problem on "THIS" side of the road before it goes after the problem on the "OTHER SIDE" of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his "CURRENT"problems before adding "NEW" problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OPRAH: Well I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GEORGE W. BUSH: We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DONALD RUMSFELD: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANDERSON COOPER/CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHN KERRY: Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's intentions. I am for it now, and will remain against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JUDGE JUDY: That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain. Alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JERRY FALWELL: Because the chicken was gay! Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the "other side" That's why they call it the "other side" of the road. Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other side."That chicken should not be free to cross the road. It's as plain and simple as that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRANDPA: In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BARBARA WALTERS: Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heartwarming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together - in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken2006, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your check book. Internet explorer is an integral part of eChicken. The Platform is much more stable and will never cra...#@&amp;&amp;^( C \..... reboot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your definition of chicken?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AL GORE: I invented the chicken!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Did it ever occur to ANYONE that MAYBE that's where the rooster was?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115722335644627255?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115722335644627255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115722335644627255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/why-did-chicken-cross-road.html' title='Why did the chicken cross the road?'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115716062313646434</id><published>2006-09-01T21:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T21:36:55.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Value of a Drink</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Sometimes when I reflect back on all the wine I drink &lt;br /&gt;I feel shame.  Then I look into the glass and think &lt;br /&gt;about the workers in the vineyards and all of their hopes &lt;br /&gt;and dreams .. If I didn't drink this wine, they might be out &lt;br /&gt;of work and their dreams would be shattered.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I say to myself, "It is better that I drink this wine and let their &lt;br /&gt;dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Jack Handy &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may leave you wondering what the hell &lt;br /&gt;happened to your bra and panties.&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they &lt;br /&gt;wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're &lt;br /&gt;going to feel all day. " &lt;br /&gt;~Frank Sinatra &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading." &lt;br /&gt;~ Henny Youngman &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to think people are laughing WITH you. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;"24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case. Coincidence?I think not." &lt;br /&gt;~ Stephen Wright &lt;br /&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to think you can sing. &lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, &lt;br /&gt;we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. &lt;br /&gt;When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So, let's all &lt;br /&gt;get drunk and go to heaven!" &lt;br /&gt;~ Brian O'Rourke&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause pregnancy. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." &lt;br /&gt;~ Benjamin Franklin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol is a major factor in thinking one can dance. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Without question, the greatest invention in the &lt;br /&gt;history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the &lt;br /&gt;wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does &lt;br /&gt;not go nearly as well with pizza." &lt;br /&gt;~ Dave Barry &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;To some it's a six-pack, to me it's a Support Group. Salvation in a can! &lt;br /&gt;~Dave Howell &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;And saving the best for last, as explained by Cliff Clavin, of Cheers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;One afternoon at Cheers, Cliff Clavin was explaining the  Buffalo Theory to his buddy Norm. &lt;br /&gt;Here's how it went: &lt;br /&gt;"Well ya see, Norm, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when you are not.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115716062313646434?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115716062313646434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115716062313646434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/value-of-drink.html' title='The Value of a Drink'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115712752194268629</id><published>2006-09-01T12:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T12:33:36.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Men Are Just Happier People</title><content type='html'>What do you expect from such simple creatures? Your last name stays put.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate is just another snack. You can be President. You can never be pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. You can wear NO shirt to a water park. Car mechanics tell you the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt. Same work, more pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrinkles add character. Wedding dress~$5000. Tux rental~$100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One mood all the time. Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know stuff about tanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. You only have to shave your face and neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can play with toys all your life. Your belly usually hides your big hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One wallet and one pair of shoes -- one color for all seasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache. You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;No wonder men are happier. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Send this to the women who can handle it and to the men who will enjoy reading it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115712752194268629?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115712752194268629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115712752194268629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/men-are-just-happier-people.html' title='Men Are Just Happier People'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115710851807184844</id><published>2006-09-01T07:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T07:01:58.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Latest brain research reveals ...</title><content type='html'>A study conducted by UCLA's Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, if she is ovulating, most women are attracted to a man with rugged and masculine features. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she is menstruating or menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with scissors lodged in his temple and duct tape over his mouth while he is on fire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115710851807184844?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115710851807184844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115710851807184844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/09/latest-brain-research-reveals.html' title='Latest brain research reveals ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115656113722057494</id><published>2006-08-25T22:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T22:58:57.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the name of your ???</title><content type='html'>A cowboy walks into a bar and two steps in, he realizes it's a gay bar. "But what the heck," he says to himself, “I really want a drink."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the gay waiter approaches, he says to the cowboy, "What's the name of your penis?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cowboy says, “Look, I'm not into any of that. All I want is a drink."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gay waiter says, "I'm sorry but I can't serve you until you tell me the name of your penis. Mine for instance is called Nike, for the slogan 'Just Do It.' That guy down at the end of the bar calls his Snickers, because 'It really Satisfies'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cowboy looks dumbfounded so the bartender tells him he will give him a second to think it over. So the cowboy asks the man sitting to his left, who is sipping on a beer, "Hey bud, what's the name of yours?" The man looks back and says with a smile "TIMEX." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thirsty cowboy asks, "Why Timex?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fella proudly replies, "Cause it takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little shaken, the cowboy turns to two fellas on his right, who happen to be sharing a fruity Margarita and says, " So, what do you guys call yours?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first man turns to him and proudly exclaims, "FORD, because Quality is Job One." Then he adds, "Have you driven a Ford, lately?" The guy next to him then says, "I call mine CHEVY ... Like A Rock!" And gives a wink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more shaken, the Cowboy has to think for a moment before he comes up with a name for his manhood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, he turns to the bartender and exclaims, "The name of my penis is SECRET. Now give me a beer." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender begins to pour the cowboy a beer, but with a puzzled look asks, "Why Secret?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cowboy says, "Because it's STRONG ENOUGH FOR A MAN, BUT MADE FOR A WOMAN !!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115656113722057494?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115656113722057494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115656113722057494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/08/whats-name-of-your.html' title='What&apos;s the name of your ???'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115654279877876792</id><published>2006-08-25T17:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T17:56:13.973-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Importance of Careful Listening</title><content type='html'>A male patient is lying in bed in the hospital, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, still heavily sedated from a difficult four hour, surgical procedure. A young student nurse appears to give him a partial sponge bath. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nurse," he mumbles, from behind the mask. "Are my testicles black?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, "I don't know, Sir. I'm only here to wash your upper body and feet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He struggles to ask again, "Nurse, are my testicles black?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concerned that he may elevate his vitals from worry about his testicles, she overcomes her embarrassment and sheepishly pulls back the covers.  She raises his gown, holds his penis in one hand and his testicles in the other, lifting and moving them around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, she takes a close look and says, "There's nothing wrong with them, Sir!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man pulls off his oxygen mask, smiles at her and says very slowly, "Thank you very much. That was wonderful, but listen very, very closely......" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A R E - M Y - T E S T - R E S U L T S - B A C K?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115654279877876792?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115654279877876792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115654279877876792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/08/importance-of-careful-listening.html' title='Importance of Careful Listening'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115641992958353617</id><published>2006-08-24T07:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T07:45:29.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles</title><content type='html'>THIS IS A MUST WATCH...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a powerful and amazing statement on Al Jazeera television.  It is the most powerfully articulate statement on the senseless bloody conflict in the middle east I have heard. The woman speaking (there are English subtitles) is Wafa Sultan, an Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles.  The Muslim cleric who tries to debate her is reduced to silence and confusion in the face of the truth of her words.  I would suggest watching it ASAP because I don't know how long the link will be active. (put this site in your address bar) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&amp;ar=1050wmv&amp;ak="&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&amp;ar=1050wmv&amp;ak=&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115641992958353617?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&amp;ar=1050wmv&amp;ak=' title='Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115641992958353617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115641992958353617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/08/arab-american-psychologist-from-los.html' title='Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-115627696994100696</id><published>2006-08-22T16:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-23T12:15:48.970-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitty Knows</title><content type='html'>KITTY STORY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George W. Bush and a Secret Service agent are taking a leisurely stroll off the White House grounds when they come upon a little girl carrying a basket with a blanket over the top.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Fearing the worst, the Secret Service agent grabs the basket to examine it and breathes a sign of relief when he finds newly born kittens inside.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bush then asks the little girl, "And what kind are they?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Oh, they're Republicans," she replies.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bush smiles, pats her on the head and continues on his way.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A few weeks later, the president is taking another walk, this time with Karl Rove and another agent. They see the little girl heading toward them and she's carrying the same basket.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bush tells Rove, "Watch this, it's really cute."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As they approach the girl, Bush calls hello and asks, "How're the kittens doing?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Fine, just fine," she says.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Then  "W" with his usual smirk, nudges Rove and asks the little girl, "And can you tell us what kind of kittens they are?"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Well, they're Democrats," she answers.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Taken quite aback, Bush says, "Three weeks ago you said they were Republicans!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I know," the little girl smiles. "But now their eyes are open."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-115627696994100696?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115627696994100696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/115627696994100696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2006/08/kitty-knows.html' title='Kitty Knows'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113349531693779823</id><published>2005-12-01T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T22:48:36.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And what does YOUR daddy do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Little David was in his 5th grade class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up -- Fireman, policeman, salesman, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David was being uncharacteristically quiet and so the teacher asked him about his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go out to the alley with some guy and have sex with him for money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher, shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some coloring, and took Little David aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said David, "he works for the Bush administration, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113349531693779823?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113349531693779823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113349531693779823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/12/and-what-does-your-daddy-do.html' title='And what does YOUR daddy do?'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113349507589284438</id><published>2005-12-01T22:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-01T22:44:35.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 SIGNS YOU'VE FINALLY GROWN UP</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them.&lt;br /&gt;2. You keep more food than beer in the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;3. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;4. You hear your favorite song in an elevator.&lt;br /&gt;5. You watch the Weather Channel.&lt;br /&gt;6. Your friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up."&lt;br /&gt;7. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14.&lt;br /&gt;8. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up."&lt;br /&gt;9. You're the one calling the police because those %&amp;@# kids next door won't turn down the stereo.&lt;br /&gt;10. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.&lt;br /&gt;11. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up.&lt;br /&gt;12. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers.&lt;br /&gt;13. Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt.&lt;br /&gt;14. You take naps from noon to 6 PM.&lt;br /&gt;15. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one.&lt;br /&gt;16. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather than settle, your stomach.&lt;br /&gt;17. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time.&lt;br /&gt;18. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work.&lt;br /&gt;19. You gain weight just looking at the dessert .&lt;br /&gt;20. You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't apply to you and can't find one to save your sorry old butt. Then you forward it to a bunch of old pals &amp; friends 'cause you know they'll enjoy it &amp; do the same.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113349507589284438?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113349507589284438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113349507589284438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/12/20-signs-youve-finally-grown-up.html' title='20 SIGNS YOU&apos;VE FINALLY GROWN UP'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113332745953591124</id><published>2005-11-30T00:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T00:10:59.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>PROOF that Google's search engine can find anything for you:</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;This is funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder so many people say Google's search engine can find anything for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- Go to the Google search engine (click here, or copy &amp; paste) http://Google.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- Type in the word "Failure"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3- Instead of clicking "Google Search," click on "I'm Feeling Lucky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4- Giggle while you google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5- Spread the word before the people at Google "fix" it.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113332745953591124?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113332745953591124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113332745953591124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/proof-that-googles-search-engine-can.html' title='PROOF that Google&apos;s search engine can find anything for you:'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113330011977289174</id><published>2005-11-29T16:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T16:35:19.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom</title><content type='html'>"Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion . . . . I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113330011977289174?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113330011977289174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113330011977289174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/wisdom.html' title='Wisdom'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113323869322306906</id><published>2005-11-28T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T23:31:33.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>LIVING WILL REQUEST...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A man and his wife are sitting in the living room and he says to her: "Just so you know, I never want to live in a vegetative state dependent on  some machine. If  that ever happens, just pull the plug."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wife gets up and unplugs the TV.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113323869322306906?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113323869322306906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113323869322306906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/living-will-request.html' title='LIVING WILL REQUEST...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113323844160188954</id><published>2005-11-28T23:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T23:27:21.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Bold!  Be Brave!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/penguin%20with%20cymbals.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/penguin%20with%20cymbals.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113323844160188954?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113323844160188954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113323844160188954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/be-bold-be-brave.html' title='Be Bold!  Be Brave!'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113317533857760666</id><published>2005-11-28T05:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T05:55:38.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Irish Viagra</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;An Irish woman of advanced age visited her physician to ask his help in reviving her husband's libido. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about trying Viagra?" asks the doctor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not a chance," she said. "He won't even take an aspirin." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not a problem," replied the doctor. "Give him an Irish Viagra. Drop it into his coffee. He won't even taste it. Give it a try and call me in a week to let me know how things went." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't a week later that she called the doctor, who directly inquired as to progress. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poor dear exclaimed, "Oh, faith, bejaysus and begorrah! T'was horrid. Just terrible, doctor!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really? What happened?" asked the doctor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I did as you advised and slipped it in his coffee and the effect was almost immediate. He jumped hisself straight up, with a twinkle in his eye, and with his pants a-bulging fiercely! With one swoop of his arm, he sent the cups and tablecloth flying, ripped me clothes to tatters and took me then and there, making wild, mad, passionate love to me on the tabletop! It was a nightmare, I tell you, an absolute nightmare!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why so terrible?" asked the doctor, "Do you mean the sex your husband provided wasn't good?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, no, no, no, doctor, the sex was fine indeed! 'Twas the best sex I've had in 25 years! But sure as I'm sittin' here, I'll never be able to show me face in Starbucks again."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113317533857760666?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113317533857760666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113317533857760666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/irish-viagra.html' title='Irish Viagra'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113262878643894277</id><published>2005-11-21T21:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T22:06:26.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never question the Intelligence of THIS man</title><content type='html'>Definitely, you should NEVER question HIS intelligence!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Bush%20face%2011212005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Bush%20face%2011212005.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113262878643894277?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113262878643894277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113262878643894277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/never-question-intelligence-of-this.html' title='Never question the Intelligence of THIS man'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113252644607283292</id><published>2005-11-20T17:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T17:41:37.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Volunteer needed ....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;George Bush has started an ill-timed and disastrous war under false pretenses by lying to the American people and to the Congress; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has run a budget surplus into a severe deficit; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has consistently and unconscionably favored the wealthy and corporations over the rights and needs of the population; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has destroyed trust and confidence in, and good will toward, the United States around the globe; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has ignored global warming, to the world's detriment; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has wantonly broken our treaty obligations; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has condoned torture of prisoners; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has attempted to create a theocracy in the United States; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has appointed incompetent cronies to positions of vital national importance.&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Therefore:&lt;br /&gt;Would someone please give him a blow job so we can impeach him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113252644607283292?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113252644607283292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113252644607283292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/volunteer-needed.html' title='Volunteer needed ....'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113238469792028727</id><published>2005-11-19T02:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T02:18:17.933-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazingly Simple Home Remedies</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1. If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat and presto. The blockage will be almost instantly removed.&lt;br /&gt;2. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.&lt;br /&gt;3. Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.&lt;br /&gt;4. For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.&lt;br /&gt;5. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.&lt;br /&gt;6. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives, then you will be afraid to cough.&lt;br /&gt;7. Have a bad toothache? Smash your thumb with a hammer and you will forget about the toothache.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, we just need to remember what the rules of life really are: You only need two tools: WD-40 and Duct Tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40. If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.&lt;br /&gt;Remember: Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.&lt;br /&gt;If you woke up breathing, congratulations! You get another chance.&lt;br /&gt;And finally, be really nice to your family and friends; you never know when you might need them to empty your bedpan.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113238469792028727?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113238469792028727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113238469792028727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/amazingly-simple-home-remedies.html' title='Amazingly Simple Home Remedies'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113228992082074935</id><published>2005-11-17T23:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T23:58:40.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Older ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;"Sixty is the worst age to be," said the 60-year-old man. "You always feel like you have to pee and most of the time you stand there and nothing comes out." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, that's nothin," said the 70-year-old. "When you're seventy, you don't have a bowel movement any more. You take laxatives, eat bran, sit on the toilet all day and nothin' comes out!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually," said the 80-year -old, "Eighty is the worst age of all." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have trouble peeing, too?" asked the 60-year old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, not really. I pee every morning at 6:00. I pee like a racehorse on a flat rock; no problem at all." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, do you have a problem with your bowel movement?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I have one every morning at 6:30." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With great exasperation, the 60-year-old said, "Let me get this straight. You pee every morning at 6:00 and have a movement every morning at 6:30. So what's so bad about being 80?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't wake up until 7:00."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113228992082074935?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113228992082074935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113228992082074935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/getting-older.html' title='Getting Older ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113222504883203520</id><published>2005-11-17T05:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T05:57:28.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Winning Toast"</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Morris Cohen hoisted his schnapps and said, "Here's to spending the rest of my life, between the legs of my wife!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That won him the top prize at the club for the best toast of the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went home and told his wife, Barbara, "I won the prize for the best toast of the night."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "That's nice. . And what was your toast?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morris said, "Here's to spending the rest of my life, sitting in shul (synagogue) beside my wife."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Morris, that is very nice indeed!" Barbara said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Barbara ran into one of Morris's club buddies on the street corner. The man chuckled leeringly and said, "Morris won the prize the other night at the club with a toast about you, Barbara."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Sure, he told me, and I was a bit surprised myself. You know, he's only been there twice in the last four years. Once he fell asleep, and the other time, on Yom Kippur, I had to pull him by the ears to make him come."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113222504883203520?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113222504883203520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113222504883203520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/winning-toast.html' title='&quot;Winning Toast&quot;'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113217944573163331</id><published>2005-11-16T17:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T17:17:25.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unusual baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;This woman gives birth to a baby, and afterwards, the doctor comes in, and he says, "I have to tell you something about your baby." The woman sits up in bed and says, "What's wrong with my baby, Doctor? What's wrong???" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says, "Well, now, nothing's wrong, exactly, but your baby is a little bit different. Your baby is a hermaphrodite." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman says, "A hermaphrodite... what's that???" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor says, "Well, it means your baby has the...er... features...of a male and a female." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman turns pale. She says, "Oh my God! You mean it has a penis... ...AND a brain?"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113217944573163331?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113217944573163331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113217944573163331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/unusual-baby.html' title='Unusual baby'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113215452895537486</id><published>2005-11-16T10:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T10:22:08.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A child's view of pregnancy and birth...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;The Middle Wife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A child's view of pregnancy and birth...what a sweet story ..out of the mouths of babes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By an Anonymous 2nd grade teacher &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been teaching now for about fifteen years. I have two kids myself, but the best birth story I know is the one I saw in my own second-grade classroom a few years back. When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sessions with my students. It helps them get over shyness and usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they're welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater. She holds up a snapshot of an infant. This is Luke, my baby brother, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord." [She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me. The kids are watching her in amazement.] "Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts saying and going, 'Oh, oh, oh, oh!' " [Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans.] She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!'" [Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.] "My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed like this." [Then Erica lies down with her back against the wall.] And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!" [This kid has her legs spread and with her little hands are mimicking water flowing away. It was too much!] "Then the middle wife starts saying 'push, push,' and 'breathe, breathe.' They started counting, but never even got past ten. then, all of a sudden, out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff, they all said it was from Mom's play-center, so there must be a lot of stuff inside there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I'm sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, if it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another Erica comes along.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113215452895537486?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113215452895537486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113215452895537486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/childs-view-of-pregnancy-and-birth.html' title='A child&apos;s view of pregnancy and birth...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113204176514712395</id><published>2005-11-15T03:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T03:02:45.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Symptoms of bird flu</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;The Center for Disease Control has released a list of symptoms of bird flu.   &lt;br /&gt;If you experience any of the following, please seek medical treatment immediately: &lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;           1.  High fever &lt;br /&gt;           2.  Congestion &lt;br /&gt;           3.  Nausea &lt;br /&gt;           4.  Fatigue &lt;br /&gt;           5.  Aching in the joints &lt;br /&gt;           6.  An irresistible urge to shit on someone's windshield. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113204176514712395?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113204176514712395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113204176514712395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/symptoms-of-bird-flu.html' title='Symptoms of bird flu'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113201640233324028</id><published>2005-11-14T19:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T20:00:02.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Five tips for a woman....</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1. It is important that a man helps you around the house and has a job.  &lt;br /&gt;2. It is important that a man makes you laugh. &lt;br /&gt;3. It is important to find a man you can count on and doesn't lie to you.&lt;br /&gt;4. It is important that a man loves you and spoils you.&lt;br /&gt;5. It is important that these four men don't know each other.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113201640233324028?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113201640233324028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113201640233324028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/five-tips-for-woman.html' title='Five tips for a woman....'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113173916309542083</id><published>2005-11-11T14:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T14:59:23.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Three surgeons talking ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Three Texas surgeons were playing golf together and discussing surgeries they had performed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them said, "I'm the best surgeon in Texas. A concert pianist lost 7 fingers in an accident, I reattached them and 8 months later he performed a private concert for the Queen of England."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the others said. "That's nothing. A young man lost both arms and legs in an accident.  I reattached them and 2 years later he won a gold medal in field events in the Olympics."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third surgeon said, "You guys are amateurs. Several years ago a cowboy who was high on cocaine and alcohol rode a horse head-on into a train traveling 80 miles an hour. All I had left to work with was the horse's ass and a cowboy hat. Now he's president of the United States."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113173916309542083?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113173916309542083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113173916309542083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/three-surgeons-talking.html' title='Three surgeons talking ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113142634516929706</id><published>2005-11-08T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T00:05:45.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dangerous Drivers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/ThisTruck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/ThisTruck.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113142634516929706?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113142634516929706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113142634516929706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/dangerous-drivers.html' title='Dangerous Drivers'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113142621335393966</id><published>2005-11-08T00:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T00:03:33.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New disease going 'round</title><content type='html'>A woman calls her boss one morning and tells him that she is staying home because she is not feeling well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the matter?" he asks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a case of anal glaucoma," she says in a weak voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the hell is anal glaucoma?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't see my ass coming into work today."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113142621335393966?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113142621335393966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113142621335393966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/new-disease-going-round.html' title='New disease going &apos;round'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113117529906491461</id><published>2005-11-05T02:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-05T02:21:39.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A SWEET STORY...........ITALIAN COOKIES</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;For all the Italians out there -- or those who are lucky enough to be married to an Italian, or even to be friends of Italians. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs. With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen. Where if not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was it heaven?? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted, the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You are going to love this!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Back off!" she said, "They're for the funeral."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113117529906491461?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113117529906491461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113117529906491461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/sweet-storyitalian-cookies.html' title='A SWEET STORY...........ITALIAN COOKIES'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113107731178714725</id><published>2005-11-03T23:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T23:08:31.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde but Not Dumb............</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive double-pane energy efficient kind. But this week I got a call from the contractor complaining that his work had been completed a whole year ago and I hadn't paid for them. Boy oh boy, did we go around! Just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I'm automatically stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I proceeded to tell him just what his fast talking sales guy had told me . . . . . that in one year the windows would pay for themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was silence on the other end, so I just hung up, and I haven't heard back from him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I won that stupid argument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113107731178714725?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113107731178714725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113107731178714725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/blonde-but-not-dumb.html' title='Blonde but Not Dumb............'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113107719255987081</id><published>2005-11-03T23:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T23:09:46.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta love little boys....</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Two young boys walked into a pharmacy one day, picked out a box of Tampax, and proceeded to the checkout counter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man at the counter asked the older boy, "Son, how old are you?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Eight," the boy replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man continued, "Do you know how these are used?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy replied, "Not exactly. But they aren't for me. They are for him. He's my brother.  He's four.  We saw on TV that if you use these you would be able to swim and ride a bike.  He can't do either one.”&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113107719255987081?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113107719255987081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113107719255987081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/gotta-love-little-boys.html' title='Gotta love little boys....'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113094604318903029</id><published>2005-11-02T10:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T10:40:43.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Know You Live In Florida When:</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;You have FEMA's number on your speed dialer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have more than 300 C and D batteries in your kitchen drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your pantry contains more than 20 cans of Spaghetti-Os.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When describing your house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and one safe hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your SSN is no secret, it's written in Sharpie on your arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road leading to your house has been declared a No-Wake Zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You own more than three large coolers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You rationalize helping a friend board up by thinking "It'll take only a gallon of gas to get there and back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have 2-liter coke bottles and milk jugs filled with water in your freezer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three months ago you couldn't hang a shower curtain; today you can assemble a portable generator by candlelight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You catch a 13-pound redfish... in your driveway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner's insurance policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You consider a "vacation" to stunning Tupelo, Mississippi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chainsaw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a roll of tar paper in your garage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather Channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice is a valid topic of conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your "drive-thru" meal consists of MREs and bottled water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You spend more time on your roof than in your living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A battery-powered TV is considered a home entertainment center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a tree in your living room does not necessarily mean it's Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the difference between the "good side" of a storm and the "bad side." &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113094604318903029?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113094604318903029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113094604318903029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/11/you-know-you-live-in-florida-when.html' title='You Know You Live In Florida When:'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113055365654030304</id><published>2005-10-28T22:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T22:45:16.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>2005 Darwin Awards</title><content type='html'>In case you have been waiting breathlessly for this year's Darwin Awards, here they are.. The awards this year are, once again, truly classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These awards are given each year to bestow upon (the remains or estate of) that individual, who through single-minded self-sacrifice, has done the most to remove undesirable elements from the human gene pool. Just think... until these events, these same people were walking the streets like normal people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;5th RUNNER-UP: Goes to a San Anselmo, California man who died when he hit a lift tower at the Mammoth Mountain ski area while riding down the slope on a foam pad. 22-year old David Hubal was pronounced dead at Central Mammoth Hospital. The accident occurred about 3:00 a.m., the Mono County Sheriff's Department said. Hubal and his friends apparently had hiked up a ski run called Stump Alley and undid some yellow foam protectors from lift towers, said Lt. Mike Donnelly of the Mammoth Lakes Police Department. The pads are used to protect skiers who might hit towers. The group apparently used the pads to slide down the ski slope and Hubal crashed into a tower. It has since been investigated and determined the tower he hit was the one with its pad removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4th RUNNER-UP: Goes to Robert Puelo, 32, was apparently being disorderly in a St. Louis market. When the clerk threatened to call the police, Puelo grabbed a hot dog, shoved it into his mouth and walked out without paying. Police found him unconscious in front of the store. Paramedics removed the six-inch wiener from his throat where it had choked him to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd RUNNER-UP: Goes to poacher Marino Malerba of Spain, who shot a stag standing above him on an overhanging rock and was killed instantly when it fell on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd RUNNER-UP: "Man loses face at party." A man at a West Virginia party (probably related to the winner last year, a man in Arkansas who used the .22 bullet to replace the fuse in his pickup truck) popped a blasting cap into his mouth and bit down, triggering an explosion that blew off his lips, teeth, and tongue. Jerry Stromyer, 24, of Kincaid, bit the blasting cap as a prank during the party late Tuesday night, said Cpl. M.D. Payne.. "Another man had it in an aquarium hooked to a battery and was trying to explode it. It wouldn't go off and this guy said I'll show you how to set it off." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He put it into his mouth, bit down and it blew all his teeth out and his lips and tongue off,” Payne said. Stromyer was listed in guarded condition Wednesday with extensive facial injuries, according to a spokesperson at Charleston Area Medical Division. "I just can't imagine anyone doing something like that," Payne said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st RUNNER-UP: Doctors at Portland University Hospital said an Oregon man shot through the skull by a hunting arrow is lucky to be alive and will be released soon from the hospital. Tony Roberts, 25, lost his right eye last weekend during an initiation into a men's rafting club, Mountain Men Anonymous (probably known now as Stupid Mountain Men Anonymous) in Grants Pass, Oregon. A friend tried to shoot a beer can off his head, but the arrow entered Robert's right eye. Doctors said that had the arrow gone 1 millimeter to the left, a major blood vessel would have been cut and Roberts would have died instantly. The neurosurgeon, Dr. Johnny Delashaw of the University Hospital in Portland, said the arrow went through 8 to 10 inches of brain with the tip protruding at the rear of his skull, yet somehow managed to miss all major blood vessels. Delashaw also said that had Roberts tried to pull the arrow out on his own he surely would have killed himself. Roberts admitted afterwards that he and his friends had been drinking that afternoon. Said Roberts, "I feel so dumb about this." No charges have been filed, but the Josephine County district attorney's office said the initiation stunt is under investigation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, THIS YEAR'S WINNER: (The late) John Pernicky and his friend, (the late) Sal Hawkins, of the great state of Washington, decided to attend a local Metallica concert at the George Washington amphitheater. Having no tickets (but having had 18 beers between them), they thought it would be easy to "hop" over the nine foot fence and sneak into the show. They pulled their pickup truck over to the fence and the plan was for Mr. Pernicky, who was 100 pounds heavier than Mr. Hawkins, to hop the fence and then assist his friend over. Unfortunately for (the late) Mr. Pernicky, there was a 30-foot drop on the other side of the fence. Having heaved himself over, he found himself crashing through a tree. His fall was abruptly halted (and broken, along with his arm) by a large branch that snagged him by his shorts. Dangling from the tree with a broken arm, he looked down and saw some bushes below him. Possibly figuring the bushes would break his fall, he removed his pocket knife and proceeded to cut away his shorts to free himself from the tree. Finally free, Mr. Pernicky crashed into holly bushes. The sharp leaves scratched his ENTIRE body and now, without the protection of his shorts, a holly branch penetrated his rectum. To make matters worse, upon landing his pocket knife penetrated his thigh. Hawkins, seeing his friend in considerable pain and agony, threw him a rope and tried to pull him to safety by tying the rope to the pickup truck and slowly driving away. However, in his drunken haste, he put the truck into reverse and crashed through the fence landing on his friend and killing him. Police arrived to find the crashed pickup with its driver thrown 100 feet from the truck and dead at the scene from massive internal injuries. Upon moving the truck, they found John under it half-naked, scratches on his body, a holly stick in his rectum, a knife in his thigh, and his shorts dangling from a tree branch 25 feet in the air.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations gentlemen! You win! And some more idiots have been removed from the gene pool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113055365654030304?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113055365654030304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113055365654030304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/2005-darwin-awards.html' title='2005 Darwin Awards'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113010094885103836</id><published>2005-10-23T16:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:55:48.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>14 quickie chuckles about life. . . . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1. Jesse Jackson, Jim Baker and Jimmy Swaggert have written an impressive new book. It's called "Ministers Do More Than Lay People."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Transvestite: A guy who likes to eat, drink and be Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The difference between the Pope and your boss.... the Pope only expects you to kiss his ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. My mind works like lightning. One brilliant flash and it is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The only time the world beats a path to your door is if you're in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I hate sex in the movies. Tried it once. The seat folded up, the drink spilled and that ice, well, it really chilled the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. It used to be only death and taxes were inevitable. Now, of course, there's shipping and handling, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. A husband is someone who, after taking the trash out, gives the impression that he just cleaned the whole house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. My next house will have no kitchen - just vending machines and a large trash can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. A blonde said, "I was worried that my mechanic might try to rip me off. I was relieved when he told me all I needed was turn signal fluid."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I'm so depressed. My doctor refused to write me a prescription for Viagra. He said it would be like putting a new flagpole on a condemned building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. My neighbor was bitten by a stray rabid dog. I went to see how he was and found him writing frantically on a piece of paper. I told him rabies could be cured and he didn't have to worry about a Will. He said, "Will? What Will? I'm making a list of the people I want to bite!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Definition of a teenager? God's punishment for enjoying sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. As we slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never point the wrong way.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113010094885103836?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113010094885103836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113010094885103836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/14-quickie-chuckles-about-life.html' title='14 quickie chuckles about life. . . . . .'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113010050583525785</id><published>2005-10-23T16:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T16:48:25.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jewish War Hero</title><content type='html'>LOS ANGELES, Sept. 14 (JTA) -- On Sept. 23, as Tibor Rubin enters the White House, generals will stand at rigid attention, President Bush will rise, and then he'll drape the Medal of Honor, the nation's highest award for gallantry in combat, around the neck of the 76-year old Holocaust survivor and Korean War veteran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubin and a legion of supporters have waited almost 55 years for this moment of triumph of camaraderie and persistence over bureaucratic lethargy and the prejudice that embittered the lives of so many old-time Jewish GIs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oddly, Rubin still does not know precisely which of his wartime feats met the Medal of Honor criterion of "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life, above and beyond the call of duty, in actual combat against an enemy armed force."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He guesses it might have been the time he secured a retreat route for his company by single-handedly defending a hill for 24 hours against waves of North Korean soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or it might have been any of the other actions that earned him four recommendations for the Medal of Honor by his commanding officers or fellow soldiers, two times for the Distinguished Service Cross, and twice for the Silver Star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had he received all those awards, he would have become the most decorated American veteran of the Korean War. What he actually got were two Purple Hearts for combat wounds and a 100 percent disability.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubin, known as "Tibi" to his Hungarian childhood friends and "Ted" to his army buddies, was born in Paszto, a Hungarian shtetl of 120 Jewish families, one of six children of a shoemaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At age 13, Rubin was transported to the Mauthausen concentration camp in Austria, where he was liberated two years later by American troops. His parents and two sisters perished in the Holocaust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came to the United States in 1948, settled in New York and worked first as a shoemaker and then as a butcher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was a handsome dog in those days, and the ladies who worked with me always brought me lunch," he reminisced fondly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1949 Rubin tried to enlist in the U.S. Army, both as an assumed shortcut to American citizenship and, he hoped, to attend the army's butcher school in Chicago. He first flunked the English language test but tried again in 1950 and passed, with some help from two fellow test-takers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In July of that year, Pfc. Rubin found himself fighting on the frontlines of Korea with I Company, 8th Regiment, First Cavalry Division. There he encountered the terror of the company -- First Sgt. Artice Watson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to lengthy affidavits submitted by nearly a dozen men -- mostly self-described "country boys" from the South and Midwest -- Watson was a vicious anti-Semite who consistently "volunteered" Rubin for the most dangerous patrols and missions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubin's bravery during such missions so impressed two of his commanding officers that they recommended him three times for the Medal of Honor. Both officers were later killed in action, but not before telling Watson to initiate the necessary paper work to secure the medals for Rubin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the men in Rubin's company were present when Watson was ordered to put in for the medals, and all are convinced that he deliberately ignored the orders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I believe in my heart that First Sgt. Watson would have jeopardized his own safety rather than assist in any way whatsoever in the awarding of the medal to a person of Jewish descent," wrote Cpl. Harold Speakman in a notarized affidavit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toward the end of October 1950, massive Chinese troop concentrations crossed the border into North Korea and attacked the Americans. After most of his regiment had been wiped out, the severely wounded Rubin was captured and spent the next 30 months in a prisoner-of-war camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faced with constant hunger, filth and disease, most of the GIs simply gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No one wanted to help anyone. Everybody was for himself," wrote Sgt. Leo Cormier Jr., a fellow prisoner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All except Rubin: Almost every evening, he would sneak out of the camp to steal food from the Chinese and North Korean supply depots, realizing that he would be shot if caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He shared the food evenly among the GIs," Cormier wrote. "He also took care of us, nursed us, carried us to the latrine . . . He did many good deeds, which he told us were 'mitzvahs' in the Jewish tradition . . . He was a very religious Jew, and helping his fellow men was the most important thing to him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivors of the camp credited Rubin with keeping 35 to 40 people alive, and recommended him for the Medal of Honor, Distinguished Service Cross and Silver Star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sgt. Carl McClendon, a soldier saved by Rubin, wrote: "He had more courage, guts and fellowship than I ever knew anyone had. He is the most outstanding man I ever met, with a heart of gold. Tibor Rubin committed everyday bravery that boggles the mind. How he ever came home alive is a mystery to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some 30 years after his discharge, Rubin lived quietly in a small house in Garden Grove, Calif. with his wife Yvonne, a Dutch Holocaust survivor. The couple reared two children: Frank, an Air Force veteran, and a daughter, Rosalyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubin finally got his American citizenship in 1953. He tried to resume his old job as a butcher, but crippling afflictions traceable to his war wounds forced him to quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't until the 1980s that Rubin's old army buddies started protesting the army's inaction in recognizing the man who had saved so many of their lives. They were soon joined by others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) introduced a special bill on Rubin's behalf in 1988. Former Rep. Robert Dornan (R-Calif.) pleaded for recognition of his constituent. Rep. Robert Wexler (D-Fla.) and former Rep. Benjamin Gilman (R-N.Y.) kept harassing the Pentagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Jewish War Veterans have championed Rubin's cause for many years and at one point collected 42,000 signatures on a petition presented to President Reagan. But nothing appeared to penetrate the wall of bureaucratic indifference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, in the mid-1990s, the U.S. military, now a model equal- opportunity employer, was forced to revisit its record of discrimination against minorities during World War II and the Korean War.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Responding to criticism that the military consistently had squelched recommendations for high medal awards to minorities, the army, navy and air force started to review their old files.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 1996 the Pentagon belatedly awarded Medals of Honor to 21 Japanese-American and other Asian-American veterans, and eight to former African-American servicemen who were institutionally segregated during World War II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congress passed a bill in 2001 providing for a review of selected Jewish veterans, known as the "Leonard Kravitz Jewish War Veterans Act." Kravitz, the uncle and namesake of rock musician Lenny Kravitz, was killed manning his lone machine gun against attacking Chinese troops during the Korean War, allowing the rest of his platoon to retreat in safety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kravitz was recommended for a Medal of Honor, but the award was downgraded to a Distinguished Service Cross, the second highest decoration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year later, under the terms of the Kravitz bill, a list containing the names and wartime records of 138 Jewish veterans was sent to the Pentagon. All the men listed had received the service cross from one of the military branches. The exception was Rubin, though his file was the thickest of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubin is the 15th Jewish recipient of the Medal of Honor since it was instituted during the Civil War by an Act of Congress signed by President Lincoln, according to archivist Pamela Elbe of the National Museum of American Jewish Military History.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It would have been nice if they had given me the medal when I was a young handsome man," mused Rubin. "It would have opened a lot of doors."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, ex-Cpl. Rubin is deeply impressed that high brass now address him as "Mister" or "Sir" and that he will have an escort of a major and a master sergeant on his way to Washington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, when he wears his medal, tradition requires that even five-star generals salute him and that the president of the United States stand when Rubin enters a room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is bound to get a lot of salutes at the White House, and later that day in a ceremony at the Pentagon hosted by Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubin is allowed to invite 200 guests for the White House ceremony, and among them will be the survivors of his old company and their families. There also will be relatives, but Rubin doubts that his cousins in Israel will be able to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Rubin was interviewed three years ago, he told this reporter, "I want this recognition for my Jewish brothers and sisters. I want the goyim to know that there were Jews over there, that there was a little greenhorn, a little shmuck from Hungary, who fought for their beloved country."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now," Rubin said with a self-deprecating laugh, "It's Mister Shmuck, the hero."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113010050583525785?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113010050583525785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113010050583525785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/jewish-war-hero.html' title='Jewish War Hero'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-113003969829916977</id><published>2005-10-22T23:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T23:54:58.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Against the "Academic Intifada"</title><content type='html'>Against the "Academic Intifada"&lt;br /&gt;by David Hirsh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An international campaign for a boycott of Israeli artists, musicians, teachers, thinkers, writers, and researchers calls itself the "Academic Intifada." Two years ago, it proposed that the British Association of University Teachers (AUT) should require its members to blacklist colleagues who worked for Israeli universities. This boycott was rejected by the AUT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year, the campaigners came back with what they thought was a more sophisticated approach. They argued for boycotts against particular Israeli institutions, in the hope that they would gather momentum for a total boycott in due course. They also responded to the objection that such boycotts would silence even Israeli academics who oppose the Occupation. They offered an exemption for professors who would denounce the "colonialist and racist" policies of Israel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This political test would require that Israeli academics apply for exemption on the basis of their political cleanliness. The AUT would have endorsed the idea that "Zionists" had no place in academia, and some of its militants might have been tempted to extend the "Zionist" test to Jewish academics outside Israel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many in the Palestine Solidarity Movement have long claimed that "Zionism Equals Racism," that Israel is the only "illegitimate" state in the world, and that Jewish nationalism is irremediably worse than any other. This singling out of Jewish nationalism is anti-Semitic in effect, if not intention, because it licenses people to relate to Jews as though they were racists until they define themselves as "anti-Zionist." The Union of Jewish Students reports that campaigns to boycott Israel on campuses bring with them an increase in racist incidents against Jewish students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An academic who comes originally from Poland wrote to me saying that the rhetoric of the boycotters reminded him of events there in 1968. Under the cover of solidarity with Palestinians, the Polish state had purged the Jewish intelligentsia. Jewish intellectuals were challenged to declare themselves anti-Zionist. Most of them refused, and many left the country; Poland lost a large number of its thinkers, teachers, writers, and researchers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something about the boycott effort brought a new group of people into open opposition. Personally, I had encountered some difficult moments while teaching. Some of my Masters students, for example, in a course on human rights, had created a swirl of half-baked anti-Semitic narratives in response to a lecture on the complexities of Holocaust representation. "What about the Holocaust industry?" "There is so much discussion of the Holocaust because of who controls the market." "Why does one group feel they own the Holocaust?" "The Holocaust myth." "It's the Zionists that insist on the ineffability of the Holocaust." In another class a student had repeated the claim that there were no Jews in the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001. I was already worrying about the connections between anti-imperialism, anti-Semitism, and hostility to Israel. Many colleagues had encountered similar attitudes in the classroom, in the union, and in public life more generally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mayor of London, Ken Livingstone, had hosted an Islamist cleric who had spoken in favor of suicide bombing against Israelis and had used unambiguous anti-Semitic language; the big anti-war demonstrations had linked opposition to the invasion of Iraq with demonization of Israel. Member of Parliament George Galloway claims that Jerusalem is in the hands of "foreigners," meaning Israeli Jews, who are perpetrating a rape of that city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of us had stopped worrying about Israel and Palestine during the peace process; we were jolted out of our complacency by the boycotters. I was in touch with a few old political colleagues, people with whom I had fought against the banning of Jewish societies in the student movement in the 1980s. A number of people were coming alive again politically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wrote a letter to the Guardian, articulating our case against the boycott and, at the same time, our opposition to the Occupation. This letter flew around academia and was published alongside a blander one opposing the boycott on the basis of academic freedom and another that opposed the boycott tactically but ambivalently. Each of these was signed by about a hundred academics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were surprised when the boycotters won the initial vote. The argument put to academic trade unionists this April was straightforward: Israel is an apartheid state, so boycott it. At first glance this is appealing to people disgusted by the realities of the Occupation. The vote was taken at the end of the meeting; there was no time for speeches against the boycott, and there had been little debate in the branches. Under these circumstances, some honest delegates voted for what was effectively an anti-Semitic policy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boycott was anti-Semitic because it singled out Israel and Israeli academics for special treatment with no morally or politically relevant reason for doing so. Israel is not, as the boycott suggests, the worst human rights abuser or the most racist state in the world; it is not responsible for the most serious campaign of ethnic cleansing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who agree that Israel should be singled out fail to agree on why. Some say that the Jews should know better, that Israel claims to be a democracy and so should be held to a higher standard than states that do not; some say that Israel plays a particular role at the vanguard of global imperialism. One academic at an AUT branch meeting said that the role of Jews throughout history has been destructive to all around them. Some say that Israel is particularly culpable because it occupies Muslim land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most common reason is that Israel, as a Jewish state, is by definition racist. This is not a claim about what Israel does, but an existential claim about what Israel is. Racist policy is presented as the inevitable product of a racist essence (even by people who are otherwise opposed to essentialism). What drives them to such intellectual lengths?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boycott campaign tolerated incidents of open anti-Semitism in its midst. Some activists referred to "rich and powerful Zionists" who would stand in the way of their campaign. The General Union of Palestinian Students allowed a leaflet to be circulated from its stall at a student conference that peddled the Protocols of the Elders of Zion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These manifestations can't be unexpected. We argued for an analogy with institutional racism. Just as an institutionally racist police force does not necessarily contain racist officers, so parts of the left are politically hostile to Jews even if their activists do not feel anti-Semitic. But if you build a movement that is effectively if unconsciously anti-Semitic, then you cannot be surprised when it breeds and licenses hostility to Jews. Parts of the left in the United Kingdom are now allied with overt anti-Semitism, some of it Islamist, some of it native to its own ranks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boycott targeted the best of Israeli society. The universities are spaces where Jews and Arabs work, teach, learn, and think side by side; where debate rather than bloodshed is the norm. Haifa University and the Hebrew University have about 20 percent Palestinian students; there are Arab professors in all Israeli universities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ariel Sharon claims that all criticism of Israel is a manifestation of anti-Semitism. The boycotters say that criticism of Israel is not anti-Semitic. Both sides miss the point. Criticism of Israel is not necessarily anti-Semitic, but sometimes it is exactly that. Most critics of the boycott in the AUT are also critical of Israeli policy. But criticism that demonizes Israel and Jews lets Sharon off the hook; it moves the discussion onto ground where he can respond with righteous indignation. At the same time, it damages the most open and anti-racist institutions in Israel and pushes the already demoralized Israeli left toward the right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The April decision plunged the AUT into crisis. A number of high-profile Jewish academics responded immediately with calls for resignation from the union. A group that had been doggedly fighting the boycott campaign for years declared that this was the final straw. But we wanted to be members of a union, and the AUT is the only one there is. We judged that it was better to take the fight into the union than to step outside, leaving it permanently in the hands of an unrepresentative minority. We decided to campaign against the boycott and set up the Web site Engage (http://www.liberoblog.com/) to coordinate the campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jon Pike read the AUT rule book. "We can call a Special Council to discuss the issue," he told me on the phone, "if we get the signatures of twenty-five council members." Why not give it a go? So Jon worked within the union structures while I developed a Web site that would arm people with arguments for the coming debate. Jane Ashworth, with her huge experience of building campaigns, consolidated the network. A fresh wind of member participation blew through the cobwebbed cliques of the AUT. Open and democratic meetings were held in local branches, winning nearly all of them to anti-boycott positions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The debate at the Special Council cannot be understood as a fight between the left and the right. Rather it was a fight between two souls of the left. There is a long tradition of anti-Semitism on the left and in the labor movement-the "socialism of fools" as August Bebel called it. Stalinists used anti-Semitic motifs in the 1930s, and the clearly anti-Semitic "Doctors' Trial" was in preparation in the early 1950s, before Stalin's death. Before the Second World War, Oswald Moseley came out of the Labour Party to campaign on an anti-Semitic platform in the East End of London. Since the 1967 Israeli-Arab war, left anti-Semitism has disguised itself in the clothes of anti-Zionism. In the 1970s and 1980s the Soviet Union sent Jews who wanted to live in Israel to the Gulag. Anti-Zionists attacked the rights of Jewish students to organize Jewish societies in the UK in the 1980s. Since the collapse of the peace process, the attacks of September 11, and the War Against Terror, left and liberal currents that consider America to be the central force for evil in the world have gotten stronger; they have made both tacit and formal alliances with political Islamism and they have been responsible for a renewed focus on Israel and Jews as the vanguard of global imperialism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palestinians have come to symbolize the global struggle against imperialism while Jews have come to symbolize the veiled imperialist forces behind the fiction of "democratic values." Jews are Nazi-Zionists, Jews are rich capitalists, Jews are scheming communists, Jews are the shady neocons pulling the strings of American imperialism in the interest of Israel. All this is the expression of a false and racist radicalism. The left has to reeducate itself to recognize anti-Semitism when it sees it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The AUT Special Council voted against the boycott and for the authentic values of the left, academic freedom and for democratic norms. At the same time, it was almost unanimous in its conviction that Palestinians suffer unjustly under Israeli occupation. The boycotters argued that theirs was the only way to support Palestinians. British academics decided instead to make positive links with Israeli and Palestinian universities, engage in joint research, joint teaching, and exchanges of students and ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend before the Special Council, there was a very small demonstration in London for Palestinian freedom. Why is there no mass movement for this cause-in support, also, of the Israeli peace movement? The chief reason for this is that the existing Palestine Solidarity Campaign smells of anti-Semitism. Most people do not want to be involved with such a movement. In this way, the politics of Palestine solidarity does tremendous harm to Palestinians. Its unremitting hatred of Israel, its calls for divisive boycotts, its libeling of Jews as racists, and the crassness and one-sidedness of the stories it tells-none of this serves its ostensible cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boycotters learned nothing from their defeat. They reacted with a new barrage of anti-Semitic rhetoric, insisting that they were defeated by a well-funded global Zionist lobby that pressured the AUT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anti-Semitism is on the rise in Europe and the United Kingdom. Some of the post-Holocaust taboos are withering; some are being bypassed with rhetoric referring to Zionists rather than Jews. Implacable hostility to Israel functions as a centerpiece to some "anti-imperialist" worldviews, not only on the left but also in right-wing isolationism. This problem is exacerbated by confused thinking about the distinction between jihadi-fascist movements, which incorporate hostility to Jews at the heart of their ideology, and Islam in general. Many people find it difficult to oppose the politics of those movements that claim to be the authentic voice of Islam. A wish to oppose anti-Islamic racism sometimes slips into an implicit or overt alliance with Islam's self-appointed but in fact unrepresentative spokespeople. Today, at last, there are people organizing to resist this fake leftism, educating themselves to recognize talk of Jewish lobbies and Zionist power as a sign of a cancer within our movement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David Hirsh is a lecturer in sociology at Goldsmiths College, University of London, author of Law against Genocide: Cosmopolitan Trials (GlassHouse, 2004), and editor for Engage at http://www.liberoblog.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This article is from Dissent Magazine - www.dissentmagazine.org&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-113003969829916977?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113003969829916977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/113003969829916977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/against-academic-intifada.html' title='Against the &quot;Academic Intifada&quot;'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112995488908952001</id><published>2005-10-22T00:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T00:25:50.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde Jokes</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Did you hear about the two blondes who froze to death in a drive-in movie? They went to see "Closed for the Winter."&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;Why did the blonde resolve to have only 3 children? She heard that one out of every four children born in the world was Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;Did you hear about the near-tragedy at the mall? There was a power outage, and two blondes were stuck on the escalators for over four hours.&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;A blonde was driving home after work and got caught in a hailstorm. Her car was covered with dents, so the next day she took it to a body repair shop.&lt;br /&gt;The shop owner saw that she was a blonde, so he decided to have some fun.&lt;br /&gt;He told her just to go home and blow into the tail pipe really hard, and all the dents would pop out.&lt;br /&gt;So, the blonde went home, got down on her hands and knees and started blowing into her tailpipe. Nothing happened. So she  blew a little harder, and still nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;Her roommate, another blonde, came home and said, "What are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;The first blonde told her how the repairman had instructed her to blow into the tail pipe in order to get all the dents to pop out.&lt;br /&gt;The roommate rolled her eyes and said, "Uh, like hello! You need to roll up the windows first."&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;A blonde went to an eye doctor to have her eyes checked for glasses.&lt;br /&gt;The doctor directed her to read various letters with the left eye while covering the right eye.&lt;br /&gt;The blonde was so mixed up on which eye was which that the eye doctor, in disgust, took a paper lunch bag with a hole to see through, and asked her to read the letters. As he did so, he noticed the blonde had tears streaming down her face.&lt;br /&gt;"Look," said the doctor, "there's no need to get emotional about getting glasses."&lt;br /&gt;"I know," agreed the blonde, "But I kind of had my heart set on wire frames."&lt;br /&gt;#####&lt;br /&gt;A blonde was shopping at a Target Store and came across a silver thermos. She was quite fascinated by it, so she picked it up and brought it over to the clerk to ask what it was.&lt;br /&gt;The clerk said, "That's a thermos . . . it keeps some things hot and some things cold."&lt;br /&gt;"Wow,” said the blonde, "that's amazing. I'm going to buy it!" So she bought the thermos and took it to work the next day. Her boss saw it on her desk.&lt;br /&gt;"What do you have there?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Why, that's a thermos . . . it keeps hot things hot and cold things cold," she replied.&lt;br /&gt;Her boss inquired, "What do you have in it?"&lt;br /&gt;The blond replied, "Two Popsicles, and some coffee." &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112995488908952001?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112995488908952001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112995488908952001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/blonde-jokes.html' title='Blonde Jokes'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112963499436313530</id><published>2005-10-18T07:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T07:41:25.236-04:00</updated><title type='text'>NO PARENT LEFT BEHIND</title><content type='html'>#16 is my favorite ...&lt;br /&gt;These are REAL notes written by PARENTS in a Kentucky school district... (Spellings have been left intact.)  I promise you cannot read these and not laugh out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1-- MY SON IS UNDER A DOCTOR'S CARE AND SHOULD NOT TAKE PE TODAY. PLEASE EXECUTE HIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2-- PLEASE EXKUCE LISA FOR BEING ABSENT SHE WAS SICK AND I HAD HER SHOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3-- DEAR SCHOOL: PLEASE ECSC's JOHN BEING ABSENT ON JAN. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32 AND ALSO 33.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-- PLEASE EXCUSE GLORIA FROM JIM TODAY. SHE IS ADMINISTRATING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5-- PLEASE EXCUSE ROLAND FROM P.E. FOR A FEW DAYS. YESTERDAY HE FELL OUT OF A TREE AND MISPLACED HIS HIP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6-- JOHN HAS BEEN ABSENT BECAUSE HE HAD TWO TEETH TAKEN OUT OF HIS FACE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7-- CARLOS WAS ABSEN YESTERDAY BECAUSE HE WAS PLAYING FOOTBALL. HE WAS HURT IN THE GROWING PART.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8-- MEGAN COULD NOT COME TO SCHOOL TODAY BECAUSE SHE HAS BEEN BOTHERED BY VERY CLOSE VEINS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9-- CHRIS WILL NOT BE IN SCHOOL CUS HE HAS AN ACRE IN HIS SIDE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10-- PLEASE EXCUSE RAY FRIDAY FROM SCHOOL. HE HAS VERY LOOSE VOWELS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11-- PLEASE EXCUSE PEDRO FROM BEING ABSENT YESTERDAY. HE HAD (DIAHRE, DYREA, DIREATHE), THE SH**S. NOTE: [WORDS IN ( )'s WERE CROSSED OUT]. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 12-- PLEASE EXCUSE TOMMY FOR BEING ABSENT YESTERDAY. HE HAD DIARRHEA, AND HIS BOOTS LEAK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13-- IRVING WAS ABSENT YESTERDAY BECAUSE HE MISSED HIS BUST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14-- PLEASE EXCUSE JIMMY FOR BEING. IT WAS HIS FATHER'S FAULT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15-- I KEPT BILLIE HOME BECAUSE SHE HAD TO GO CHRISTMAS SHOPPING BECAUSE I DONT KNOW WHAT SIZE SHE WEAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16-- PLEASE EXCUSE JENNIFER FOR MISSING SCHOOL YESTERDAY. WE FORGOT TO GET THE SUNDAY PAPER OFF THE PORCH, AND WHEN WE FOUND IT MONDAY. WE THOUGHT IT WAS SUNDAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17-- SALLY WON'T BE IN SCHOOL A WEEK FROM FRIDAY. WE HAVE TO ATTEND HER FUNERAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18-- MY DAUGHTER WAS ABSENT YESTERDAY BECAUSE SHE WAS TIRED. SHE SPENT A WEEKEND WITH THE MARINES. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19-- PLEASE EXCUSE JASON FOR BEING ABSENT YESTERDAY. HE HAD A COLD AND COULD NOT BREED WELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20-- PLEASE EXCUSE MARY FOR BEING ABSENT YESTERDAY. SHE WAS IN BED WITH GRAMPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21-- GLORIA WAS ABSENT YESTERDAY AS SHE WAS HAVING A GANGOVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22-- PLEASE EXCUSE BRENDA. SHE HAS BEEN SICK AND UNDER THE DOCTOR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23-- MARYANN WAS ABSENT DECEMBER 11-16, BECAUSE SHE HAD A FEVER, SORETHROAT, HEADACHE AND UPSET STOMACH. HER SISTER WAS ALSO SICK, FEVER AN SORE THROAT, HER BROTHER HAD A LOW GRADE FEVER AND ACHED ALL OVER. I WASN'T THE BEST EITHER, SORE THROAT AND FEVER. THERE MUST BE SOMETHING GOING AROUND, HER FATHER EVEN GOT HOT LAST NIGHT.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;NOW WE KNOW WHY PARENTS ARE SCREAMING FOR BETTER EDUCATION FOR OUR KIDS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112963499436313530?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112963499436313530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112963499436313530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/no-parent-left-behind.html' title='NO PARENT LEFT BEHIND'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112961151186782236</id><published>2005-10-18T00:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T00:58:31.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blonde Strikes Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Mother Agnes convenes all the nuns and solemnly announces, “We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Praise the Lord,” Sister Lucille chimes.  “I am so tired of Chardonnay.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112961151186782236?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112961151186782236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112961151186782236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/blonde-strikes-again.html' title='The Blonde Strikes Again'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112940625180780927</id><published>2005-10-15T15:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T15:57:31.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Spot a Terrorist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Camel%20at%20Airport.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Camel%20at%20Airport.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112940625180780927?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112940625180780927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112940625180780927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/how-to-spot-terrorist.html' title='How to Spot a Terrorist'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112921934615079178</id><published>2005-10-13T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T12:02:26.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OIL   SHORTAGE</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A lot of folks can't understand how we came to have an oil shortage here in our country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's a very simple answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody bothered to check the oil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just didn't know we were getting low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason for that is purely geographical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our OIL is located in:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alaska&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;California&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coastal Florida &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coastal Louisiana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kansas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oklahoma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pennsylvania&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Texas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Our&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DIPSTICKS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are located in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Washington DC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112921934615079178?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112921934615079178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112921934615079178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/oil-shortage.html' title='OIL   SHORTAGE'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112921843749696909</id><published>2005-10-13T11:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T11:47:17.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiny Frogs....</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;There once was a bunch of tiny frogs who arranged a running competition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big crowd had gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contestants.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The race began.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one in crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You heard statements such as: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, WAY too difficult!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They will NEVER make it to the top." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not a chance that they will succeed. The tower is too high!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tiny frogs began collapsing. One by one.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for those, who in a fresh tempo, were climbing higher and higher....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd continued to yell, "It is too difficult!!! No one will make it!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More tiny frogs got tired and gave up.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ONE continued higher and higher and higher.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one wouldn't give up! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end everyone else had given up climbing the tower. Except for the one tiny frog who, after a big effort, was the only one who reached the top! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN all of the other tiny frogs naturally wanted to know how this one frog managed to do it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A contestant asked the tiny frog how he had found the strength to succeed and reach the goal? &lt;br /&gt;It turned out.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That the winner was DEAF!!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wisdom of this story is: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never listen to other people's tendencies to be negative or pessimistic....  because they take your most wonderful dreams and wishes away from you -- the ones you have in your heart! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always think of the power words have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because everything you hear and read will affect your actions! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALWAYS be....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;POSITIVE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And above all: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be DEAF when people tell YOU that you cannot fulfill your dreams! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pass this message on to 5 "tiny frogs" you care about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give them some motivation!!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112921843749696909?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112921843749696909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112921843749696909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/tiny-frogs.html' title='Tiny Frogs....'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112918025194388126</id><published>2005-10-13T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T01:10:51.950-04:00</updated><title type='text'>5766 and counting!</title><content type='html'>5766 and counting! Amazing! Incredible! Unbelievable! Jews will soon begin our 5,766th year on this earth! Who would have believed this possible? If anyone had told Abraham that his people would be around this long he probably would have been astounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: Imagine, we did this without beheading anyone, without a single suicide bomber, without kidnapping and murdering school children, without slaughtering Olympic athletes, and without flying airplanes into skyscrapers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lasted this long despite: 400 years as slaves in Egypt, 40 years of wandering in the desert, the mighty Roman army who nailed us to ten thousand crosses; despite the best efforts of the Christian crusaders, the Spanish Inquisition, Hitler's third Reich, Stalin's gulags, five Arab wars of annihilation, 100 years of Arab and Arafat terrorism, and 800 hate-filled UN resolutions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did we Jews do it? We did it by concentrating our efforts on education, love of family, faith, hard work, helping one another and a passionate dedication to life no matter what evil befell us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hung in there with hope that the rest of the world would one day overcome its hatreds, jealousies, violence and join us in a life of cooperation and mutual respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not there yet, but we're still hopeful. And when we enter our places of worship, this is what we always pray for, with all the strength in our hearts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112918025194388126?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112918025194388126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112918025194388126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/5766-and-counting.html' title='5766 and counting!'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112917257357109249</id><published>2005-10-12T23:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T23:06:35.086-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Support Ribbons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/support%20ribbons%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/support%20ribbons%203.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/support%20ribbons%202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/support%20ribbons%202.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Support%20ribbons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Support%20ribbons.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112917257357109249?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112917257357109249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112917257357109249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/support-ribbons.html' title='Support Ribbons'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112907234869690480</id><published>2005-10-11T19:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T19:12:28.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Center for Disease Control warning</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;The Center for Disease Control has issued a warning about a new virulent strain of Sexually Transmitted Disease. This disease is contracted through dangerous and high risk behavior. The disease is called Gonorrhea Lectim (pronounced "gonna re-elect him"). Many victims have contracted it after having been screwed for the past 4 years, in spite of having taken measures to protect themselves from this especially troublesome disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cognitive sequelae of individuals infected with Gonorrhea Lectim include, but are not limited to, anti-social personality disorder traits; inability to tell the truth, delusions of grandeur with a distinct messianic flavor; chronic mangling of the English language; extreme cognitive dissonance; inability to incorporate new information; pronounced xenophobia; inability to accept responsibility for actions; exceptional cowardice masked by acts of misplaced bravado; uncontrolled facial smirking; ignorance of geography and history; tendencies toward creating evangelical theocracies; and a strong propensity for categorical, all-or-nothing behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disease is sweeping Washington, trailer parks, and the red states. Naturalists and epidemiologists are amazed and baffled that this malignant disease originated only a few years ago from a Texas Bush.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112907234869690480?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907234869690480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907234869690480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/center-for-disease-control-warning.html' title='Center for Disease Control warning'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112907145150432511</id><published>2005-10-11T18:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T01:13:13.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiots !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;IDIOTS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD: I live in a semi-rural area. We recently had a new neighbor call the local township administrative office to request the removal of the Deer Crossing sign on our road. The reason: "too many deer were being hit by cars" and he didn't want them to cross there anymore. (This one was from Kingman, KS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDIOTS IN FOOD SERVICE: My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for "minimal lettuce." He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg. (This was in Jackson Mississippi)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDIOT SIGHTING: I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, "Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?" To which I replied, "If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?" He smiled knowingly and nodded, "That's why we ask." (Happened in Birmingham, AL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDIOT SIGHTING: The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged coworker of mine when she asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, "What on earth are blind people doing driving?!" (She was a probation officer in Wichita, KS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDIOT SIGHTING: At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker who was leaving the company due to downsizing, our manager commented cheerfully, "This is fun. We should do this more often." Not a word was spoken. We all just looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare. (This was a bunch at Texas Instruments.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDIOT SIGHTING: I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the life of her couldn't understand why her system would not turn on. (A deputy with the Dallas County Sheriff's office no less.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDIOT SIGHTING: When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver's side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. "Hey," I announced to the technician, "it's open!" To which he replied, "I know - I already got that side." (This was at the Ford dealership in Canton, Mississippi!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*They walk among us. AND REPRODUCE!!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112907145150432511?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907145150432511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907145150432511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/idiots.html' title='Idiots !!!'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112907064880299627</id><published>2005-10-11T18:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T18:44:08.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Honor ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;The judge says to a double-homicide defendant, "You're charged with beating your wife to death with a hammer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A voice at the back of the courtroom yells out, "You bastard!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge says, "You're also charged with beating your mother-in-law to death with a hammer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voice in the back of the courtroom yells out, "You bastard!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The judge stops and says to the guy in the back of the courtroom, "Sir, I can understand your anger and frustration at this crime. But no more outbursts from you, or I'll charge you with contempt. Is that understood?"&lt;br /&gt;The guy in the back of the court stands up and says, "I'm sorry, Your Honor, but for fifteen years, I've lived next door to that bastard, and every time I asked to borrow a hammer, he said he didn't have one!"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112907064880299627?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907064880299627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907064880299627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/your-honor.html' title='Your Honor ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112907052363217791</id><published>2005-10-11T18:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T18:42:03.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Anagrams</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;This has got to be one of the most clever E-mails I've received in awhile and had to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone out there either has too much spare time or is deadly at Scrabble. (Wait until you see the last one).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DORMITORY&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;DIRTY ROOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRESBYTERIAN&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;BEST IN PRAYER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASTRONOMER&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;MOON STARER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DESPERATION&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;A ROPE ENDS IT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE EYES&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;THEY SEE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GEORGE BUSH&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letter s:&lt;br /&gt;HE BUGS GORE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE MORSE CODE&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;HERE COME DOTS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SLOT MACHINES&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;CASH LOST IN ME&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANIMOSITY&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;IS NO AMITY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ELECTION RESULTS&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;LIES - LET'S RECOUNT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOTHER-IN-LAW&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN HITLER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SNOOZE ALARMS&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;ALAS! NO MORE Z'S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A DECIMAL POINT&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;IM A DOT IN PLACE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE EARTHQUAKES&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;THAT QUEER SHAKE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ELEVEN PLUS TWO&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters:&lt;br /&gt;TWELVE PLUS ONE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PRESIDENT CLINTON OF THE USA:&lt;br /&gt;When you rearrange the letters&lt;br /&gt;(With no letters left over and using each letter only once):&lt;br /&gt;TO COPULATE HE FINDS INTERNS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep! Someone with waaaaaaaaaaay too much time on their hands!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112907052363217791?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907052363217791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112907052363217791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/anagrams.html' title='Anagrams'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112905635836582715</id><published>2005-10-11T14:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T14:53:13.356-04:00</updated><title type='text'>YEAR'S BEST [actual] HEADLINES OF 2004</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Crack Found on Governor's Daughter&lt;br /&gt;[Imagine that!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says&lt;br /&gt;[No, really?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers&lt;br /&gt;[Now that's taking things a bit far!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?&lt;br /&gt;[Not if I wipe thoroughly!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over&lt;br /&gt;[What a guy!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miners Refuse to Work after Death&lt;br /&gt;[! Good-for-nothing' lazy so-and-sos!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant&lt;br /&gt;[See if that works any better than a fair trial!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;War Dims Hope for Peace&lt;br /&gt;[I can see where it might have that effect!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last Awhile&lt;br /&gt;[You think?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures&lt;br /&gt;[Who would have thought!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfield (London) Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide&lt;br /&gt;[They may be on to something!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red Tape Holds Up New Bridges&lt;br /&gt;[You mean there's something stronger than duct tape?]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man Struck By Lightning: Faces Battery Charge&lt;br /&gt;[he probably IS the battery charge!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group&lt;br /&gt;[Weren't they fat enough?!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft&lt;br /&gt;[That's what he gets for eating those beans!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half&lt;br /&gt;[Chainsaw Massacre all over again!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors&lt;br /&gt;[Boy, are they tall!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the winner is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead&lt;br /&gt;Did I read that right?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112905635836582715?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112905635836582715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112905635836582715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/years-best-actual-headlines-of-2004.html' title='YEAR&apos;S BEST [actual] HEADLINES OF 2004'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112903608335617888</id><published>2005-10-11T09:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T09:08:03.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You might be in Education if ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1.  You believe the staff room should be equipped with a Valium salt lick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  You find humor in other people's stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  You believe "shallow gene pool" should have its own box on the report card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  When out in public, you feel the urge to snap your fingers at a child you do not know and correct their behavior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  When you mention "vegetables" you're not talking about a food group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  You think people should be required to get a government permit to reproduce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  You laugh uncontrollably when people refer to the staff room as the "lounge".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  You believe in aerial spraying of Prozac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  You can't have children because there's no name you could give a child that wouldn't bring on high blood pressure the moment you heard it uttered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. You think caffeine should be available to staff in IV form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. You want to choke a person who says, "Oh, you must have such fun every day.  This must be like playtime for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Meeting a child's parents instantly answers the question, "Why is this kid like this?"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112903608335617888?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112903608335617888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112903608335617888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/you-might-be-in-education-if.html' title='You might be in Education if ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112902380520902577</id><published>2005-10-11T05:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T05:43:25.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting a Refund at Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A middle aged woman went to a Wal-Mart service counter and told the clerk she wanted a refund for the toaster she bought because it won't work. The clerk tells her that he can't give her a refund because she bought it on 'special'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, the woman throws her arms up in the air and starts screaming! "PINCH MY NIPPLES! PINCH MY NIPPLES! PINCH MY NIPPLES!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The befuddled clerk runs away to get the store manager in front of growing crowd of customers. The manager goes to the woman and asks: "Ma'am what's wrong?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She explained the problem with the toaster, and HE tells her that he can't give her a refund because she bought it on special. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, the woman throws her arms! up in the air and starts screaming, "PINCH MY NIPPLES! PINCH MY NIPPLES! PINCH MY NIPPLES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And doing so draws an even larger crowd! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In shock, the store Manager pleads, "Ma'am, why are you saying that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a huff, the woman says, "BECAUSE, I LIKE TO HAVE MY NIPPLES PINCHED WHEN I'M GETTING SCREWED!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crowd broke into applause and her money was quickly refunded!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112902380520902577?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112902380520902577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112902380520902577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/getting-refund-at-wal-mart.html' title='Getting a Refund at Wal-Mart'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112892470474487002</id><published>2005-10-10T02:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T03:32:05.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship: Men vs. Women</title><content type='html'>On Friendship between women:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A woman didn't come home one night. The next day she told her husband that she had slept over at a friend's house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the man called his wife's 10 best friends.&lt;br /&gt;None of them knew about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friendship between men:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A man didn't come home one night. The next day he told his wife that he had slept over at a friend's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the woman called her husband's 10 best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eight of them confirmed that yes, he had slept over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And two claimed that he was still there!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112892470474487002?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112892470474487002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112892470474487002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/friendship-men-vs-women.html' title='Friendship: Men vs. Women'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112892454489595027</id><published>2005-10-10T01:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-10T03:48:53.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gorgeous ex-girlfriend called the other day</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;I got a phone call from a gorgeous ex-girlfriend of mine the other day. We lost track of time, chatting about the wild, romantic nights we used to enjoy together. I couldn't believe it when she asked if I'd be interested in meeting up and rekindling a little of that 'magic`. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wow!" I said, "I don't know if I could keep pace with you now! I'm a bit older and a bit balder than when you last saw me!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She just giggled and said she was sure I'd rise to the challenge!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," I said, "just so long as you don't mind a man with a waistline that's a few inches wider these days!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She laughed and told me to stop being so silly! She teased me saying that tubby bald men are cute! "Anyway, I've put on a few pounds myself!" she giggled... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told her to “f**k off!”&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112892454489595027?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112892454489595027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112892454489595027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/gorgeous-ex-girlfriend-called-other.html' title='Gorgeous ex-girlfriend called the other day'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112875837475086795</id><published>2005-10-08T03:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T03:59:34.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Channukah Coins</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;We were at the pharmacy when I found a treasure. It was a bag of Gold Chanukah Coins (Gold Foil-covered chocolate). There were many sizes, from dime to dollar. I took the bag home and my son and I opened the bag and ate all of the coins, my son taking the bigger dollar-sized ones and me taking the smaller ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, my wife, my son and I stopped at the Pharmacy again to pick up a few things. While my wife and I were shopping, we noticed that our son had picked up a Gold Coin Condom. Before we could catch him, he took it up to the counter and asked the Pharmacist, "What's this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman, looking very serious, said, "That's a condom, son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which my son replied, "My daddy BOUGHT me some of these!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a disgusted look on her face, the Pharmacist replied, "Those are NOT for children, young man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, my son replied, "Then I'll buy this one for my Daddy.  He likes the LITTLE ones..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112875837475086795?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875837475086795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875837475086795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/channukah-coins.html' title='Channukah Coins'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112875629449437382</id><published>2005-10-08T03:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T03:27:19.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on Marriage (remember, this is "Humor!")</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;You have two choices in life: You can stay single and be miserable, or get married and wish you were dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a cocktail party, one woman said to another, "Aren't you wearing your wedding ring on the wrong finger?" &lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I am. I married the wrong man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady inserted an ad in the classifieds: "Husband Wanted" &lt;br /&gt;Next day she received a hundred letters. They all said the same thing: "You can have mine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a woman steals your husband, there is no better revenge than to let her keep him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman is incomplete until she is married. &lt;br /&gt;Then she is finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little boy asked his father, "Daddy, how much does it cost to get married?" &lt;br /&gt;Father replied, "I don't know, son, I'm still paying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young son asked, "Is it true, Dad, that in some parts of Africa a man doesn't know his wife until he marries her?" &lt;br /&gt;Dad replied, "That happens in every country, son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was a woman who said, "I never knew what real happiness was until I got married, and by then, it was too late."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want your spouse to listen and pay strict attention to every word you say -- talk in your sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just think, if it wasn't for marriage, men would go through life thinking they had no faults at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First guy says, "My wife's an angel!" &lt;br /&gt;Second guy remarks, "You're lucky. Mine's still alive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Woman's Prayer &lt;br /&gt;Dear Lord, I pray for Wisdom, to understand a man, to love and to forgive him, &lt;br /&gt;and for Patience, for his moods. &lt;br /&gt;Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, &lt;br /&gt;I'll just beat him to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND NOW FOR THE FAVORITE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband and wife are waiting at the bus stop with their nine children. A blind man joins them after a few minutes. When the bus arrives, they find it overloaded and only the wife and the nine kids are able to fit onto the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the husband and the blind man decide to walk. After a while, the husband gets irritated by the ticking of the stick of the blind man as he taps it on the sidewalk, and says to him, "Why don't you put a piece of rubber at the end of your stick? That ticking sound is driving me crazy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blind man replies, "If you would've put a rubber at the end of YOUR stick, we'd be riding the bus ... so shut the hell up." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112875629449437382?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875629449437382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875629449437382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/thoughts-on-marriage-remember-this-is.html' title='Thoughts on Marriage (remember, this is &quot;Humor!&quot;)'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112875562761635147</id><published>2005-10-08T03:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T03:27:58.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Best singles personal ad EVER</title><content type='html'>This has to be one of the best singles ads ever printed. It is reported to have been listed in the Atlanta Journal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I'm a very good girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I'll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Call (404) 875-6420 and ask for Daisy, I'll be waiting.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Please scroll down      &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Black%20Lab%20puppy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Black%20Lab%20puppy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over 15,000 men found themselves talking to the Atlanta Humane Society about an 8-week-old black Labrador retriever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112875562761635147?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875562761635147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875562761635147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/best-singles-personal-ad-ever.html' title='Best singles personal ad EVER'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112875129879924280</id><published>2005-10-08T02:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T02:01:38.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Defining the word "Tragedy"</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;President Bush was visiting a primary school and he  dropped in on one of the classes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings. The teacher asked the President if he would like to lead the discussion on the word "tragedy". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a "tragedy".One little boy stood up and offered: "If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is laying in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him that would be a tragedy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No," said Bush, "that would be an accident." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little girl raised her hand: "If a school bus carrying 50 children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm afraid not," explained the president. "That's what we would call a great loss." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room went silent. No other children volunteered. Bush searched the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally at the back of the room a small boy raised his hand. In a quiet voice he said: "If Air Force One carrying you and Mrs. Bush was struck by a "friendly fire" missile and blown to smithereens that would be a tragedy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fantastic!" exclaimed Bush. "That's right.  Now can you explain to  me why that would be a tragedy?" "Well," says the boy, "It has to be a tragedy,  because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss and it probably wouldn't be an accident either."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112875129879924280?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875129879924280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112875129879924280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/defining-word-tragedy.html' title='Defining the word &quot;Tragedy&quot;'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112867351395352850</id><published>2005-10-07T04:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T04:25:13.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brooklyn Tony</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;The teacher asks her class, "If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and you shoot one of them, how many will be left?" She calls on Brooklyn Tony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replies, "None, they will all fly away with the first gunshot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher replies, "The correct answer is 4, but I like your thinking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Brooklyn Tony says, "I have a question for YOU. There are 3 women sitting on a bench having ice cream: One is delicately licking the sides of the triple scoop of ice cream. The second is gobbling down the top and sucking the cone. The third is biting off the top of the ice cream. Which one is married?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher, blushing a great deal, replied, "Well, I suppose the one that's gobbled down the top and sucked the cone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which Brooklyn Tony replied, "The correct answer is 'the one with the wedding ring on,' but I like your thinking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony ON MATH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony returns from school and says he got an F in arithmetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" asks the father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The teacher asked 'How much is 2x3,' I said '6,'" replies TONY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But that's right!" says his dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but then she asked me 'How much is 3x2?'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the fucking difference?" asks the father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's what I said!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony ON ENGLISH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony goes to school, and the teacher says, "Today we are going to learn multi-syllable words, class.  Does anybody have an example of a multi-syllable word?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TONY says "Mas-tur-bate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss Rogers smiles and says, "Wow, Brooklyn Tony, that's a mouthful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little TONY says, "No, Miss Rogers, you're thinking of a blowjob."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony ON GRAMMAR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony was sitting in class one day. All of a sudden, he needed to go to the bathroom. He yelled out, "Miss Jones, I need to take a piss!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher replied, "Now, TONY, that is NOT the proper word to use in this situation. The correct word you want to use is 'urinate'.  Please use the word 'urinate' in a sentence correctly, and I will allow you to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony, thinks for a bit, and then says, "You're an eight, but if you had bigger tits, you'd be a TEN!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony ON GRAMMAR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, during lessons on proper grammar, the teacher asked for a show of hands from those who could use the word "beautiful" in the same sentence twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, she called on little Suzie, who responded with, "My father bought my mother a beautiful dress and she looked beautiful in it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good, Suzie," replied the teacher. She then called on little Michael.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My mommy planned a beautiful banquet and it turned out beautifully."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Excellent, Michael!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the teacher reluctantly called on Brooklyn Tony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Last night at the dinner table, my sister told my father that she was pregnant, and he said 'Beautiful, just fucking beautiful!'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony ON GETTING OLDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony was sitting on a park bench munching on one candy bar after another. After the 6th one a man on the bench across from him said, "Son, you know eating all that candy isn't good for you. It will give you acne, rot your teeth, and make you fat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony replied, "You know, my grandfather lived to be 107 years old."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man asked, "Did your grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brooklyn Tony answered, "No, he minded his own fucking business."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112867351395352850?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112867351395352850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112867351395352850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/brooklyn-tony.html' title='Brooklyn Tony'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112866718617160471</id><published>2005-10-07T02:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T03:02:02.643-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets of President Bush's Speeches</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.devilducky.com/media/23894/"&gt;Click here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112866718617160471?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.devilducky.com/media/23894/' title='Secrets of President Bush&apos;s Speeches'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112866718617160471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112866718617160471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/secrets-of-president-bushs-speeches.html' title='Secrets of President Bush&apos;s Speeches'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112857272855730719</id><published>2005-10-06T00:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T00:40:48.673-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Photojournalist Ethics Test</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;This test only has one question, but it's a very important one. By giving an honest answer, you will discover where you stand morally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The test features an unlikely, completely fictional situation in which you will have to make a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember that your answer needs to be honest, yet spontaneous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are in Florida, Miami to be specific. There is chaos all around you caused by a hurricane with severe flooding. This is a flood of biblical proportions. You are a photojournalist working for a major newspaper, and you're caught in the middle of this epic disaster. The situation is nearly hopeless. You're trying to shoot career-making photos. There are houses and people swirling around you, some disappearing under the water. Nature is unleashing all of its destructive fury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you see a man floundering in the water. He is fighting for his life, trying not to be taken down with the debris. You move closer . . . somehow the man looks familiar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You suddenly realize who it is. It's George W. Bush! At the same time you notice that the raging waters are about to pull him under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have two options--you can save the life of G.W. Bush or you can shoot a dramatic Pulitzer Prize winning photo, documenting the death of one of the world's most powerful men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the question, and please give an honest answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you select high contrast color film, or would you go with the classic simplicity of black and white?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112857272855730719?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112857272855730719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112857272855730719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/photojournalist-ethics-test.html' title='Photojournalist Ethics Test'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112848172246639368</id><published>2005-10-04T23:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T23:08:42.473-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for a job in sales?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A young guy from Missouri moves to Florida and goes to a big "everything under one roof" department store looking for a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager says, "Do you have any sales experience?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid says, "Yeah. I was a salesman back in Missouri."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the boss liked the kid and gave him the job. "You start tomorrow.  I'll come down after we close and see how you did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His first day on the job was rough, but he got through it. After the store was locked up, the boss came down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How many customers bought something from you today?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid says, "One".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss says "Just one???!!!! Our sales people average 20 to 30 customers a day. How much was the sale for?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid says, "$101,237.65."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss says, "$101,237.65? What the heck did you sell?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid says, "First, I sold him a small fish hook. Then I sold him a medium fishhook. Then I sold him a larger fishhook. Then I sold him a new fishing rod. Then I asked him where he was going fishing and he said down the coast, so I told him he was going to need a boat, so we went down to the boat department and I sold him a twin engine Chris Craft. Then he said he didn't think his Honda Civic would pull it, so I took him down to the automotive department and sold him a 4x4 Expedition."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss said, "A guy came in here to buy a fish hook and you sold him a BOAT and a TRUCK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid said, "No, the guy came in here to buy Tampons for his wife, and I said, 'Dude, your weekend's shot, you should go fishing.'" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112848172246639368?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112848172246639368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112848172246639368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/10/looking-for-job-in-sales.html' title='Looking for a job in sales?'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112811873052335684</id><published>2005-09-30T18:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T18:18:50.526-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Diary of Anne Frank</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112811873052335684?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112811873052335684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112811873052335684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/diary-of-anne-frank.html' title='Diary of Anne Frank'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112807649313066806</id><published>2005-09-30T06:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T06:40:58.276-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bush &amp; Brazilians</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;On Friday, Condi Rice was giving the President his daily foreign affairs briefing. She concluded by saying: "Yesterday, three Brazilian soldiers were killed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OH NO!" the President exclaimed. "That's terrible!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His staff sat stunned at this uncharacteristic display of emotion at a briefing, and watched as the President nervously as sat there, head in hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the President looked up and asked, "How many is a brazillion?"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112807649313066806?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112807649313066806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112807649313066806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/bush-brazilians.html' title='Bush &amp; Brazilians'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112797861514954577</id><published>2005-09-29T03:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T06:43:03.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Help Never Arrived</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Bush%20phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Bush%20phone.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112797861514954577?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112797861514954577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112797861514954577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/why-help-never-arrived.html' title='Why Help Never Arrived'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112790008200525103</id><published>2005-09-28T05:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T05:40:32.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>''If terrorism wins in Iraq, the next 9/11 is right around the corner.''</title><content type='html'>-- Richard Myers, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, no.  9/11 and Iraq were not linked.  That's a fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's likely is that Karl Rove probably wrote that quote for General Myers to say.  And the control of the military by Bush's Machiavelli is scary stuff indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112790008200525103?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112790008200525103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112790008200525103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/if-terrorism-wins-in-iraq-next-911-is.html' title='&apos;&apos;If terrorism wins in Iraq, the next 9/11 is right around the corner.&apos;&apos;'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112785355901024434</id><published>2005-09-27T16:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T16:39:19.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'>George W Goes Jogging ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;George W. was out jogging one morning along the parkway when he tripped, fell over the bridge railing and landed in the creek below.&lt;br /&gt;Before the Secret Service guys could get to him, three kids, who were fishing, pulled him out of the water. &lt;br /&gt;He was so grateful he offered the kids whatever they wanted.&lt;br /&gt;The first kid said, "I want to go to Disneyland."&lt;br /&gt;W said, "No problem. I'll take you there on Air Force One".&lt;br /&gt;The second kid said, "I want a new pair of Nike Air Jordan's."&lt;br /&gt;W said, "I'll get them for you and even have Michael sign them!"&lt;br /&gt;The third kid said, "I want a motorized wheelchair with a built-in TV and stereo headset!!"&lt;br /&gt;Bush is a little perplexed by this and says, "But you don't look like you are handicapped."&lt;br /&gt;The kid says, "I will be after my dad finds out I saved your ass from drowning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112785355901024434?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112785355901024434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112785355901024434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/george-w-goes-jogging.html' title='George W Goes Jogging ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112772314287280866</id><published>2005-09-26T04:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T01:12:18.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>South Florida Cardiovascular Exercise Plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/SoFlaExercisePlan4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/400/SoFlaExercisePlan1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112772314287280866?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112772314287280866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112772314287280866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/south-florida-cardiovascular-exercise.html' title='South Florida Cardiovascular Exercise Plan'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112772165635457288</id><published>2005-09-26T03:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T04:14:01.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Old Poodle</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A wealthy old lady decides to go on a photo safari in Africa, taking her faithful aged poodle named Cuddles along for the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the poodle starts chasing butterflies and before long, Cuddles discovers that she's lost. Wandering about, she notices a leopard heading rapidly in her direction with the intention of having lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old poodle thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep doo-doo now!" Noticing some bones on the ground close by, she immediately settles down to chew on the bones with her back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old poodle exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard!I wonder if there are any more around here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. "Whew!", says the leopard, "That was close! That old poodle nearly had me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard.So off he goes, but the old poodle sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard. The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the old poodle sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?", but instead of running, the dog sits down with her back to her attackers, pretending she hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old poodle says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's that damn monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THIS STORY...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't mess with old farts...age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill!Bullshit and brilliance only come with age and experience!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112772165635457288?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112772165635457288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112772165635457288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/old-poodle.html' title='The Old Poodle'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112771336988898331</id><published>2005-09-26T01:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T01:10:15.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How to tell the difference between male and female birds</title><content type='html'>This is AMAZING!  Until now I never fully understood how to tell the difference between male and female birds.  I always thought it had to be determined surgically... until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which of the two birds is a female?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below are two birds.  Study them closely......... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See if you can spot which of the two is the female. It can be done. Even by one with limited bird watching skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/2%20birds6.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/2%20birds5.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112771336988898331?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112771336988898331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112771336988898331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/how-to-tell-difference-between-male.html' title='How to tell the difference between male and female birds'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112743599620458261</id><published>2005-09-22T20:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T20:39:56.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oxymorons</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1. Is it good if a vacuum really sucks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Why is the third hand on the watch called the second hand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he find the words?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Why do we say something is out of whack? What is a whack?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Why do "slow down" and "slow up" mean the same thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Why do "fat chance" and "slim chance" mean the same thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Why do "tug" boats push their barges?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Why do we sing "Take me out to the ball game" when we are already there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Why are they called "stands" when they are made for sitting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Why is it called "after dark" when it really is "after light"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Doesn't "expecting the unexpected" make the unexpected expected?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Why are a "wise man" and a "wise guy" opposites?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Why do "overlook" and "oversee" mean opposite things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Why is "phonics" not spelled the way it sounds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. If work is so terrific, why do they have to pay you to do it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. If you are cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Why is bra singular and panties plural?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control when you know the batteries are dead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Why do we put suits in garment bags and garments in a suitcase?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. How come abbreviated is such a long word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Why do they call it a TV set when you only have one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Christmas oxymoron:? What other time of the year do you sit in front of a dead tree and eat candy out of your socks?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112743599620458261?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112743599620458261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112743599620458261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/oxymorons.html' title='Oxymorons'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112728338837890304</id><published>2005-09-21T02:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T05:49:26.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bananas: Amazing Fruit !!</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;After reading this, you'll never look at a banana in the same way again.&lt;br /&gt;Bananas contain three natural sugars - sucrose, fructose and glucose combined with fiber. A banana gives an instant, sustained and substantial boost of energy. Research has proven that just two bananas provide enough energy for a strenuous 90-minute workout. No wonder the banana is the number one fruit with the world's leading athletes. &lt;br /&gt;But energy isn't the only way a banana can help us keep fit.&lt;br /&gt;It can also help overcome or prevent a substantial number of illnesses and conditions, making it a must to add to our daily diet.&lt;br /&gt;Depression: According to a recent survey undertaken by MIND amongst people suffering from depression, many felt much better after eating a banana. This is because bananas contain tryptophan, a type of protein that the body converts into serotonin, known to make you relax, improve your mood and generally make you feel happier.&lt;br /&gt;PMS: Forget the pills - eat a banana. The vitamin B6 it contains regulates blood glucose levels, which can affect your mood.&lt;br /&gt;Anemia: High in iron, bananas can stimulate the production of hemoglobin in the blood and so helps in cases of anemia.&lt;br /&gt;Blood Pressure: This unique tropical fruit is extremely high in potassium yet low in salt, making it perfect to beat blood pressure. So much so, the US Food and Drug Administration has just allowed the banana industry to make official claims for the fruit's ability to reduce the risk of blood pressure and stroke.&lt;br /&gt;Brain Power: 200 students at a Twickenham (Middlesex) school were helped through their exams this year by eating bananas at breakfast, break, and lunch in a bid to boost their brain power. Research has shown that the potassium-packed fruit can assist learning by making pupils more alert.&lt;br /&gt;Constipation: High in fiber, including bananas in the diet can help restore normal bowel action, helping to overcome the problem without resorting to laxatives.&lt;br /&gt;Hangovers: One of the quickest ways of curing a hangover is to make a banana milkshake, sweetened with honey. The banana calms the stomach and, with the help of the honey, builds up depleted blood sugar levels, while the milk soothes and re-hydrates your system.&lt;br /&gt;Heartburn: Bananas have a natural antacid effect in the body, so if you suffer from heartburn, try eating a banana for soothing relief.&lt;br /&gt;Morning Sickness: Snacking on bananas between meals helps to keep blood sugar levels up and avoid morning sickness.&lt;br /&gt;Mosquito bites: Before reaching for the insect bite cream, try rubbing the affected area with the inside of a banana skin. Many people find it amazingly successful at reducing swelling and irritation.&lt;br /&gt;Nerves: Bananas are high in B vitamins that help calm the nervous system.&lt;br /&gt;Overweight and at work? Studies at the Institute of Psychology in Austria found pressure at work leads to gorging on comfort food like chocolate and crisps. Looking at 5,000 hospital patients, researchers found the most obese were more likely to be in high-pressure jobs. The report concluded that, to avoid panic-induced food cravings, we need to control our blood sugar levels by snacking on high carbohydrate foods every two hours to keep levels steady.&lt;br /&gt;Ulcers: The banana is used as the dietary food against intestinal disorders because of its soft texture and smoothness. It is the only raw fruit that can be eaten without distress in over-chronicler cases. It also eutralizes over-acidity and reduces irritation by coating the lining of the stomach.&lt;br /&gt;Temperature control: Many other cultures see bananas as a "cooling" fruit that can lower both the physical and emotional temperature of expectant mothers. In Thailand, for example, pregnant women eat bananas to ensure their baby is born with a cool temperature.&lt;br /&gt;Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): Bananas can help SAD sufferers because they contain the natural mood enhancer tryptophan. &lt;br /&gt;Smoking: Bananas can also help people trying to give up smoking. The B6, B12 they contain, as well as the potassium and magnesium found in them, help the body recover from the effects of nicotine withdrawal.&lt;br /&gt;Stress: Potassium is a vital mineral, which helps normalize the heartbeat, sends oxygen to the brain and regulates your body's water balance. When we are stressed, our metabolic rate rises, thereby reducing our potassium levels. These can be rebalanced with the help of a high-potassium banana snack.&lt;br /&gt;Strokes: According to research in "The New England Journal of Medicine, "eating bananas as part of a regular diet can cut the risk of death by strokes by as much as 40%!&lt;br /&gt;Warts: Those keen on natural alternatives swear that if you want to kill off a wart, take a piece of banana skin and place it on the wart, with the yellow side out. Carefully hold the skin in place with a plaster or surgical tape!&lt;br /&gt;So, a banana really is a natural remedy for many ills. When you compare it to an apple, it has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate, three times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin A and iron, and twice the other vitamins and minerals. It is also rich in potassium and is one of the best value foods around So maybe its time to change that well-known phrase so that we say, "A banana a day keeps the doctor away!" &lt;br /&gt;PS: Bananas must be the reason monkeys are so happy all the time! I will add one here; want a quick shine on our shoes?? Take the INSIDE of the banana skin, and rub directly on the shoe...polish with dry cloth. Amazing fruit.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112728338837890304?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112728338837890304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112728338837890304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/bananas-amazing-fruit.html' title='Bananas: Amazing Fruit !!'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112724517766852562</id><published>2005-09-20T15:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T19:47:10.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Software User Laments</title><content type='html'>Software User laments: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Last year I upgraded from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0. I soon noticed that the new program began unexpected child processing that took up a lot of space and valuable resources. In addition, Wife 1.0 installed itself into all other programs and now monitors all other system activity. Applications such as Poker Night 10.3, Football 5.0, Hunting and Fishing 7.5, and Racing 3.6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to keep Wife 1.0 in the background while attempting to run my favorite applications. I'm thinking about going back to Girlfriend 7.0, but the uninstall doesn't work on Wife 1.0. Please help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Troubled User. (KEEP READING) &lt;br /&gt;______________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REPLY:&lt;br /&gt;Dear Troubled User:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a very common problem that men complain about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people upgrade from Girlfriend 7.0 to Wife 1.0, thinking that it is just a Utilities and Entertainment program. Wife 1.0 is an OPERATING SYSTEM and is designed by its Creator to run EVERYTHING!!! It is also impossible to delete Wife 1. 0 and to return to Girlfriend  7.0. It is impossible to uninstall, or purge the program files from the system once installed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cannot go back to Girlfriend 7.0 because Wife 1.0 is designed to not allow this. Look in your Wife 1.0 manual under Warnings-Alimony-Child Support. I recommend that you keep Wife1.0 and work on improving the situation. I suggest installing the background application "Yes Dear" to alleviate software augmentation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best course of action is to enter the command C:\APOLOGIZE because ultimately you will have to give the APOLOGIZE command before the system will return to normal anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wife 1.0 is a great program, but it tends to be very high maintenance. Wife 1.0 comes with several support programs, such as Clean and Sweep 3.0, Cook It 1.5 and Do Bills 4.2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, be very careful how you use these programs. Improper use will cause the system to launch the program Nag Nag 9.5. Once this happens, the only way to improve the performance of Wife 1.0 is to purchase additional software. I recommend Flowers 2.1 and Diamonds 5.0!    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING!!! DO NOT, under any circumstances, install Secretary with Short Skirt 3.3. This application is not supported by Wife 1.0 and will cause irreversible damage to the operating system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best of luck, &lt;br /&gt;Tech Support&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112724517766852562?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112724517766852562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112724517766852562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/software-user-laments.html' title='Software User Laments'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112720942458543957</id><published>2005-09-20T05:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T05:43:44.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lawyer Questions ...</title><content type='html'>A rancher named Clyde had a car accident. In court, the trucking company's fancy lawyer was questioning Clyde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Didn't you say, at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine,'" asked the lawyer. Clyde responded, "Well, I'll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite mule, Bessie, into the..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't ask for any details," the lawyer interrupted. "Just answer the question? Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine!'?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clyde said, "Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer interrupted again and said, "Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the Highway Patrolman on the scene that he was just fine. Now several weeks after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time, the Judge was fairly interested in Clyde's answer and said to the lawyer, "I'd like to hear what he has to say about his favorite mule, Bessie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clyde thanked the Judge and proceeded. "Well, as I was saying I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite mule, into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side. I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurting, real bad and didn't want to move. However, I could hear ole Bessie moanin' and groanin'. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans. Shortly after the accident a Highway Patrolman came on the scene. He could hear Bessie moanin' and groanin' so he went over to her. After he looked at her, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes. Then the Patrolman came across the road, gun in hand, looked at me, and said, "How are you feeling?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now what the hell would you say?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112720942458543957?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112720942458543957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112720942458543957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/lawyer-questions.html' title='Lawyer Questions ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112720921141772399</id><published>2005-09-20T05:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T05:40:11.426-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Preparing for the High Holy Days</title><content type='html'>Tashlich Tidbits&lt;br /&gt;By Rabbi Richard Israel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some suggested tips for properly executing Tashlich (casting of sins into the waters. . . )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For ordinary sins, use – White bread&lt;br /&gt;For exotic sins – French or Italian bread&lt;br /&gt;For dark sins – Pumpernickel&lt;br /&gt;For complex sins – Multigrain bread&lt;br /&gt;For truly warped sins – Pretzels&lt;br /&gt;For sins of indecision – Waffles&lt;br /&gt;For sins committed in haste – Matzah&lt;br /&gt;For substance abuse – Poppy seed rolls&lt;br /&gt;For committing arson – Toast&lt;br /&gt;For being ill-tempered – Sourdough bread&lt;br /&gt;For silliness – Nut bread&lt;br /&gt;For not giving full value – Shortbread&lt;br /&gt;For political chauvinism – Yankee Doodles&lt;br /&gt;For excessive use of irony – Rye bread&lt;br /&gt;For continual bad jokes – Corn bread&lt;br /&gt;For hardening our hearts – Jelly doughnuts&lt;br /&gt;For excessive curiosity – Wonder Bread&lt;br /&gt;For speed-limit violations – Russian bread&lt;br /&gt;For usury – dough&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112720921141772399?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112720921141772399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112720921141772399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/preparing-for-high-holy-days.html' title='Preparing for the High Holy Days'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112714316014800177</id><published>2005-09-19T11:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T11:49:46.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just engaged</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Just%20engaged1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Just%20engaged1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112714316014800177?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112714316014800177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112714316014800177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/just-engaged.html' title='Just engaged'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112711292457016253</id><published>2005-09-19T02:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T02:56:19.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Groundhog Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Groundhog day was the same day as the President George W. Bush's State of the Union address this year. As Air America Radio pointed out: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is an ironic juxtaposition: one involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence for prognostication, and the other involves a groundhog."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112711292457016253?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112711292457016253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112711292457016253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/groundhog-day.html' title='Groundhog Day'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702047934378542</id><published>2005-09-18T01:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:14:39.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Stressed%20cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Stressed%20cat.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702047934378542?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702047934378542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702047934378542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_112702047934378542.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702043146705107</id><published>2005-09-18T01:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:13:51.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Cat%20farted.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Cat%20farted.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702043146705107?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702043146705107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702043146705107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_112702043146705107.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702038682019499</id><published>2005-09-18T01:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:13:06.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/cat%20caffeine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/cat%20caffeine.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702038682019499?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702038682019499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702038682019499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_112702038682019499.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702035268070375</id><published>2005-09-18T01:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:12:32.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Cat%20make%20my%20friends%20fat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Cat%20make%20my%20friends%20fat.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702035268070375?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702035268070375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702035268070375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_112702035268070375.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702031764685531</id><published>2005-09-18T01:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:11:57.646-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Shit%20message%20pad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Shit%20message%20pad.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702031764685531?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702031764685531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702031764685531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_112702031764685531.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702027240333801</id><published>2005-09-18T01:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:11:12.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Asshole%20message%20pad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Asshole%20message%20pad.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702027240333801?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702027240333801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702027240333801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_112702027240333801.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702023250470981</id><published>2005-09-18T01:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:10:32.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Fuck%20it%20Post%20It%20note.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Fuck%20it%20Post%20It%20note.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702023250470981?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702023250470981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702023250470981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post_18.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112702016143248298</id><published>2005-09-18T01:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T01:09:21.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/Water%20cooler%20beer%20bottle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/Water%20cooler%20beer%20bottle.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112702016143248298?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702016143248298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112702016143248298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112698248391711144</id><published>2005-09-17T14:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T02:57:15.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3 Kick Rule</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A Chicago lawyer went duck hunting in rural Indiana.  He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer's field on the other side of a fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing.  The litigator responded, "I shot a duck and it fell in this field, and now I'm going to retrieve it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer replied, "This is my property, and you are not coming over here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The indignant lawyer said, "I am one of the best trial attorneys in the United States and, if you don't let me get that duck, I'll sue you and take everything you own.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, "Apparently, you don't know how we settle disputes in Indiana.  We settle small disagreements like this with the Hoosier "Three Kick Rule."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer asked, "What is the Hoosier Three Kick Rule?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Farmer replied, "Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The attorney quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old codger.  He agreed to abide by the local custom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney.  His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel toed work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees.  His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer's last meal gushing from his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer's third kick to his rear end sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet.  Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, "Okay, you old coot.  Now it's my turn."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[I love this part...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, "Naw, I give up.  You can have the duck."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112698248391711144?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112698248391711144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112698248391711144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/3-kick-rule.html' title='3 Kick Rule'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112692467458297830</id><published>2005-09-16T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T22:37:54.586-04:00</updated><title type='text'>12 Things You Didn't Know You Didn't Know</title><content type='html'>Did you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;1. It is impossible to lick your elbow. &lt;br /&gt;2. A crocodile can't stick its tongue out.  &lt;br /&gt;3. A shrimp's heart is in its head. &lt;br /&gt;4. In a study of 200,000 ostriches, over a period of 80 years, no one reported a single case where an ostrich buried its head in the sand. &lt;br /&gt;5. It is physically impossible for pigs to look up into the sky. &lt;br /&gt;6. A pregnant goldfish is called a twit. &lt;br /&gt;7. More than 50% of the people in the world have never made or received a telephone call. &lt;br /&gt;8. Horses can't vomit.  &lt;br /&gt;9. The "sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick" is said to be the toughest tongue twister in the English language. &lt;br /&gt;10. If you sneeze too hard, you can fracture a rib. If you try to suppress a sneeze, you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die. And, if you keep your eyes open by force, they can pop out. &lt;br /&gt;11. Rats multiply so quickly that in 18 months, two rats could have over a million descendants.  &lt;br /&gt;12. Wearing headphones for just an hour will increase the bacteria in your ear by 700 times.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112692467458297830?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112692467458297830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112692467458297830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/12-things-you-didnt-know-you-didnt.html' title='12 Things You Didn&apos;t Know You Didn&apos;t Know'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112682760187335513</id><published>2005-09-15T19:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T19:51:22.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Terrorist-Proof Airlines</title><content type='html'>We at TPA, Terrorist-Proof Airline, are in the flying business where we can absolutely guarantee no WALK-ON GUNS, KNIVES, BOX CUTTERS, SHOE-BOMBS or other weapons will ever be carried onto OUR FLIGHTS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Book your next flight with TPA, the safest airline in the industry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/1600/TerrorProofAirline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4100/355/320/TerrorProofAirline.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112682760187335513?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112682760187335513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112682760187335513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/terrorist-proof-airlines.html' title='Terrorist-Proof Airlines'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112682057540734415</id><published>2005-09-15T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T18:28:43.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jewish guy wants to get married ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;A young Jewish man excitedly tells his mother he's fallen in love and that he is going to get married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says, "Just for fun, Ma, I'm going to bring over 3 women and you try and guess which one I'm going to  marry." The mother agrees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, he brings three beautiful women into the house and sits them down on the couch and they chat for a while. He then says, "Okay, Ma, guess which one I'm going to marry." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She  immediately replies, "The one on the right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's amazing, Ma. You're right. How did you know?” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Jewish mother replies, "I don't like her."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112682057540734415?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112682057540734415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112682057540734415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/jewish-guy-wants-to-get-married.html' title='Jewish guy wants to get married ...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112681536900020351</id><published>2005-09-15T16:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T18:27:31.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mars &amp; Venus ??</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;One evening last week, the wife and I were getting into bed. Well, the passion starts to heat up, and she eventually says "I don't feel like it, I just want you to hold me." I said "WHAT??!! What was that?!" So she says the words that every husband on the planet dreads to hear... "You're just not in touch with my emotional needs as a woman enough for me to satisfy your physical needs as a man." She responded to my puzzled look by saying, "Can't you just love me for who I am and not what I do for you in the bedroom?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizing that nothing was going to happen that night, I went to sleep. The very next day I opted to take the day off of work to spend time with her. We went out to a nice lunch and then went shopping at a big, big unnamed department store. I walked around with her while she tried on several different very expensive outfits. She couldn't decide which one to take so I told her we'd just buy them all. She wanted new shoes to compliment her new clothes, so I said lets get a pair for each outfit. We went onto the jewellery department where she picked out a pair of diamond earrings. Let me tell you...she was so excited. She must have thought I was one wave short of a shipwreck. I started to think she was testing me because she asked for a tennis bracelet when she doesn't even know how to play tennis. I think I threw her for a loop when I said, "That's fine, honey." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was almost nearing sexual satisfaction from all of the excitement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling with excited anticipation she finally said, "I think this is all dear, let's go to the cashier." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could hardly contain myself when I blurted out, "No honey, I don't feel like it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her face just went completely blank as her jaw dropped with a baffled "WHAT?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then said "Honey! I just want you to HOLD this stuff for a while. You're just not in touch with my financial needs as a man enough for me to satisfy your shopping needs as a woman." And just when she had this look like she was going to kill me, I added, "Why can't you just love me for who I am and not for the things I buy you?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I'm not having sex tonight either.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112681536900020351?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112681536900020351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112681536900020351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/mars-venus.html' title='Mars &amp; Venus ??'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112674741492937862</id><published>2005-09-14T21:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T18:29:39.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bill Maher to President Bush (after Katrina)</title><content type='html'>Bill Maher's closing comments from a recent show following the Katrina disaster:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Mr. President, this job can't be fun for you any more. There's no more money to spend -- you used up all of that. You can't start another war because you used up the Army. And now, darn the luck, the rest of your term has become the Bush family nightmare: helping poor people. Listen to your Mom. The cupboard's bare, the credit cards maxed out. No one's speaking to you. Mission accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now it's time to do what you've always done best. Lose interest and walk away, like you did with your military service and the oil company and the baseball team. It's time. Time to move on and try the next fantasy job. How about cowboy or space man? Now I know what you're saying - there's so many other things that you as President could involve yourself in. Please don't. I know, I know. There's a lot left to do. There's a war with Venezuela. Eliminating the sales tax on yachts. Turning the space program over to the church, and Social Security to Fannie Mae. Giving embryos the vote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, Sir, none of that is going to happen now. Why? Because you govern like Billy Joel drives. You've performed so poorly I'm surprised that you haven't given yourself a medal. You're a catastrophe that walks like a man. Herbert Hoover was a shitty president, but even he never conceded an entire city to rising water and snakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On your watch, we've lost almost all of our allies, the surplus, four airliners, two trade centers, a piece of the Pentagon and the City of New Orleans. Maybe you're just not lucky. I'm not saying you don't love this country. I'm just wondering how much worse it could be if you were on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, yes, God does speak to you. What he is saying is: 'Take a hint.'"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112674741492937862?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112674741492937862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112674741492937862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/bill-maher-to-president-bush-after.html' title='Bill Maher to President Bush (after Katrina)'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112672637016254296</id><published>2005-09-14T15:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T15:40:11.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Clean Your Toilet</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both lids. You may need to stand on the lid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a "power-wash" and rinse". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112672637016254296?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112672637016254296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112672637016254296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/how-to-clean-your-toilet.html' title='How To Clean Your Toilet'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112666025753487286</id><published>2005-09-13T21:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T21:10:57.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'>President Bush on Roe vs. Wade</title><content type='html'>Q: What is George W. Bush's  position on Roe vs. Wade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: He  really doesn't give a damn how  people get out of New Orleans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112666025753487286?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112666025753487286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112666025753487286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/president-bush-on-roe-vs-wade.html' title='President Bush on Roe vs. Wade'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112663275972543572</id><published>2005-09-13T13:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T13:32:39.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>HEALTH QUESTION &amp; ANSWER SESSION</title><content type='html'>I don't know what doctor wrote this, but I like her/him! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true? &lt;br /&gt;A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables? &lt;br /&gt;A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake? &lt;br /&gt;A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio? &lt;br /&gt;A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc. -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program? &lt;br /&gt;A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No pain...good! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you? &lt;br /&gt;A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!!. Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle? &lt;br /&gt;A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach. -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Is chocolate bad for me? &lt;br /&gt;A: Are you crazy? HELLO ...... Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around! -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Is swimming good for your figure? &lt;br /&gt;A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle? &lt;br /&gt;A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape! Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food. And so-calle diets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And remember: "Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming "WHAAA HOOOO, What a ride!" &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112663275972543572?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112663275972543572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112663275972543572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/health-question-answer-session_13.html' title='HEALTH QUESTION &amp; ANSWER SESSION'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112659472695553505</id><published>2005-09-13T02:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T03:15:39.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Land New Clients</title><content type='html'>Wanna see something AWESOME??  Go to &lt;a href="http://www.Google.com"&gt;www.Google.com&lt;/a&gt; and enter these 3 words with quotation marks before &amp; after: "land new clients" and see who is #1, #2, AND #3 !!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112659472695553505?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112659472695553505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112659472695553505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/land-new-clients.html' title='Land New Clients'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6521004.post-112658193579984910</id><published>2005-09-12T23:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T01:45:54.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY I FIRED MY SECRETARY...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Last week was my birthday and I didn't feel very well waking up that morning. I went downstairs for breakfast hoping my wife would be pleasant and say, "happy birthday!", and possibly have a present for me.  As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone "happy birthday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought... Well, that's marriage for you, but the kids will remember.  My kids came into breakfast and didn't say a word.  So when I left for the office, I was feeling pretty low and somewhat despondent.  As I walked into my office, my secretary Jane said, "Good morning, boss, happy birthday!"  It felt a little better that at least someone had remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked until one o'clock and then Jane knocked on my door and said, "You know, it's such a beautiful day outside, and it's your birthday, let's go out to lunch, just you and me."  I said, "Thanks Jane, that's the greatest thing I've heard all day. Let's go!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to lunch. But we didn't go where we normally would go. We dined instead at a little place with a private table.  We had two martinis each and I enjoyed the meal tremendously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back to the office, Jane said, "You know, it's such a beautiful day... We don't need to go back to the office, do we?"  I responded, "I guess not. What do you have in mind?"  She said, "Let's go to my apartment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After arriving at her apartment Jane turned to me and said, "Boss, if you don't mind, I'm going to step into the bedroom for a moment.  I'll be right back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK," I nervously replied. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out carrying a huge birthday cake ... followed by my wife, kids, and dozens of my friends and co-workers, all singing "happy birthday."&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And I just sat there...on the couch...naked.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6521004-112658193579984910?l=petesilver.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112658193579984910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6521004/posts/default/112658193579984910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petesilver.blogspot.com/2005/09/why-i-fired-my-secretary.html' title='WHY I FIRED MY SECRETARY...'/><author><name>PeteSilver.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18256210232984445300</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/258/2888/320/PeteRaul.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
