Old Horsetail Snake

Following the problems in the sub-prime lending markets in the U.S., uncertainty has now hit Japan.

In the last few days, Origami Bank has folded, Sumo Bank has gone belly up, and Bonsai Bank announced plans to cut some of its branches.

Yesterday, it was announced that Karaoke Bank is up for sale and will likely go for a song, while today shares in Kamikaze Bank were suspended after they nose-dived.

While Sumurai Bank fell on its sword, Ninja Bank is reported to have taken a hit, but they remain in the black.

Furthermore, 500 employees at Karate Bank got the chop, and analysts report that there is something fishy going on at Sushi Bank, where it is feared that staff may get a raw deal.

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I don't know how this was done, but it's done.  Obama, McCain and even That Lady appears in this Dance Off.  Thanks, Busy Mom.

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Hah!  You thought I had forgotten that it's Rabbit! Rabbit! time.  The time when you double up on the word (rabbit, in case you weren't listening), and then all month you'll have good luck.  I didn't forget, so there!

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My favorite phrase today is middle age.  N., which used to be 18 and now is 38.  Def.:  That time of life when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.

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Some dogs just don't have a chance.

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Put me down for Fridays.

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Critics of who made a mess out of the economy keep coming up with people to blame.  Lately they've had at Alan Greenspan.  But he says it's not his fault.  All he can be blamed for is a flaw in his thinking, he says.  It wasn't like that was a mistake or anything.

In fact, all of the people who've had a crack at owning up to misbehavior have said "It wasn't me."

Well of course it wasn't!!  Those people who are not shouldering the blame make way too much money for them to take the blame for anything.  Rich people do not make misteaks......see, I made one right there so's you will not think that I am rich.  Every time the economy goes into the tank, the fat cats look around for somebody to blame and always, it's me.

It all started with my mortgage and the fact that my house slid downhill during the last rainfall because I got too fat from eating Orville Redenbacher and so I wasn't able to go downtown to spend my paycheck which I don't have one of anymore because I lost my job dealing "21" at the American Legion Club.

You can see how things would pile up on a guy.  No kidding.  When it comes time to shovel the blame there ain't two or three ways about it.  If the economy turns sour, it's Ol' Hoss who provided the lemons.  And that puts everybody else at ease.  Those folks looking for a dope to blame can go right back to what they were doing, which was, of course, nothing.

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A zebra dies and arrives at the Pearly Gates.  As he enters, he asked St. Peter, "I have a question that's haunted me all of my days on earth.  Am I white with black stripes, or am I black with white stripes?"

St. Peter said, "That's a question only God can answer."

So the zebra went off in search of God.  When he found Him, the zebra asked, "Please God, I must know:  Am I white with black stripes, or am I black with white stripes?"

God simply replied, "You are what you are."

The zebra returned to see St. Peter once more, who asked him, "Well, did God answer your query for you?"

The zebra, looking puzzled, answered, "No sir, God simply said, 'You are what you are.'"

St. Peter smiled and said to the zebra, "Well, then, there you are.  You are white with black stripes.

The zebra asked, "How do you know that for certain?"

"Because," St. Peter said, "if you were black with white stripes, God would have said, 'You is what you is.'"

(If you laughed at this, Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson will be on your ass.  But I voted for Barack Obama and I laughed at this, and probably so did he.  Keep smiling, Sunshine.)

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My favorite word today is religious views.  N., use any camera you like.  Def.:  People who want to share these with you almost never want you to share yours with them.

This  is a fun little game.  Try it out; waste some time.

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I read somewhere about a dame who is trying to raise $3 million to buy a Super Bowl advertisement to get a husband.  Count me in.

In fact, count me in twice.  I also need $3 million, to buy a Super Bowl ad to get a wife/partner/significant other/what's it.

Here's my Super Bowl ad response to the $3 million lady:


The Washington Post asked readers for their ideas on "You know you're in..." and here are some results:

"You know you're in Rome where everybody seems to be doing the same thing."

"You know you're in the William J. Clinton Presidential Library because all the books are in brown paper wrappers."

"You know you're in California when the horns on antique cars go 'arugula.'"

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My thought for the day is:  Men are like fine wine.  N., V., this will be interesting.  Def.:  They start out as grapes, and it's up to the women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

This guy is driving down the road, and he runs out of gas.  After he sat there for awhile, a bee flew in his window.  And strange as it may sound, this bee talks:  "What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm out of gas," the man replied.

The bee told the man to wait right there, and then he flew away.  Minutes later, the man watched as an entire colony of bees flew to his car and into his gas tank.  Shortly thereafter, the bees flew out.

"Try it now," said one bee.

The man turned the ignition key and the car started right up.  "Wow!" the man exclaimed, "what did you put in the tank?"

The bee answered,

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You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight saving time.


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Don't look down.

BULLETIN BOARD ATTENDEES OF AMERICA:

Over half of the U.S. population has legitimate concerns about what will happen to their pets after the Rapture occurs.  Please respect their faith and allow this notice to remain posted (just as the waste removal and grooming posts remain).  Again, over half the population feels that this is of concern to them.  If there is a specific problem with this ad, please eMail me.

This is really strange.  Sometimes you can tell the sexes of birds by their colors.  You know, how the male Mallard Duck is brightly colored, while the Female is a pale brown.  And how the American Goldfinch turns bright yellow during the mating season.  But crows?  Gimme a break.  Or seagulls (which leave you asking which are the gulls and which are the boys).

But a fellow birdwatcher tipped me to this way of figuring out which was the he-duck, and which was the she-duck.  "Just pay attention," he said.  So I did (click on the picture):

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This couple had been married 35 years, and every Sunday the husband would go golfing with his friends.  He NEVER missed a day.

This Sunday, however, as he is getting ready to go his wife says, "No, you can't go golfing today.  I want you to stay around the house, maybe help me weed."

He did the only logical thing:  He pulled out his 7-iron and beat her to death with it.  Then, being a good citizen, he called the cops.  The chief of the cops asked the husband what happened.

The man tells the cop ther whole story.  "And when she said I couldn't go golfing I freaked out.  I took my 7-iron and hit her over the head with it until she died."

The cop says, "I understand.  But I need to ask for my report:  How many times did you hit her?"

The man answers, "Nine times, but tell the guys it was only four."

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My favorite word today is time.  N., felons get a lot of this.  Def.:  Nature's way of keeping everything from happening all at once.

This morning on the Interstate I looked over to my left and there was a woman in a brand new Cadillac doing 80 miles per hour, with her face up next to her rear view mirror putting on her eyeliner. I looked away for a couple seconds! And when I looked back she was halfway over in my lane, still working on her makeup.

As a man I don't scare easily. But she scared me so much, I dropped my electric shaver, which knocked the donut out of my other hand.

In all the confusion of trying to straighten out the car, using my knees against the steering wheel, my cellphone got knocked away from my ear, and it, in turn fell into the coffee between my legs, splashed and burned Big Jim and the Twins, ruined the damn phone, soaked my trousers, and disconnected an important call.

Damn women drivers....

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According to a news report, a certain private school in Washington D.C. was recently faced with a unique problem.
A number of 12-year-old girls were beginning to use lipstick and would put it on in the bathroom. That was fine, but after they put on their lipstick, they would press their lips on the mirror, leaving dozens of little lip prints.

Every night the maintenance man would remove them, and the next day the girls would put them back. Finally, the principal decided something had to be done. She called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the maintenance man. She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the custodian, who had to clean the mirrors every night.

To demonstrate how difficult it had been to clean the mirror, she asked the maintenance man to show the girls how much effort was required. He took out a long-handled squeegee dipped it in the toilet, and cleaned the mirror with it. Since then, there have been no lip prints on the mirror.

(There are teachers....and then there are educators.)

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My favorite phrase today is two rights. N., and a couple of left jabs. Def.: These don't make a wrong, but three will get you back on the freeway.

Here's a truly heartwarming story about the bond formed between a little 5-year-old girl and some construction workers that will make you believe that we all can make a difference when we give a child the gift of our time.

A young family moved into a house next to a vacant lot. One day, a construction crew turned up to start building a house on the empty lot. The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest in all the activity going on next door and spent much of each day observing the workers.

Eventually, the construction crew, all of them 'gems-in-the-rough', more or less, adopted her as a kind of project mascot. They chatted with her, let sit with them while they had coffee and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important. At the end of the first week, they even presented her with a pay envelope containing ten dollars.

The little girl took this home to her mother who suggested that she take her 'pay' to the bank the next day to start a savings account.

When the girl and her mom got to the bank, the teller was equally impressed and asked the little girl how she had come by her very own paycheck at such a young age. The little girl proudly replied, "I worked last week with a real construction crew building the new house next door to us."

"Oh, goodness gracious," said the teller. "And will you be working on the house again this week too?"

The little girl replied, "I will, if those assholes at Lowe's ever deliver the f**king sheet rock...."

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My favorite word today is cleaning. N., like putting those little white strips on your teeth. Def.: Retirees are very slow in cleaning out the basement, attic or garage. They know that as soon as they do, one of their adult kids will want to store stuff there.

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*(Thanks, Vicki.)

The butcher backed into the meat grinder and got a little behind in his work.

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Have I told you the story about Halloween and me, two days early? Aw, hell, I'm going to tell it again.

I was leaving the grocery store where my Mom worked and suddenly I had the pangs of hunger. You know how 9-year-olds can be. It was two days before Halloween, so what the hey? I knocked on the door of the closest house and when it was answered I said, "Trick or Treat!" (I may have yelled it.)

The lady of the house says, "This isn't Halloween." And I said, "I know, but I'm hungry? You got any cookies?"

She sort of giggled, and went and got me a cookie. I was a cute little bugger. But to be on the safe side, I gave her house a pass when Halloween actually did arrive.

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Do you remember Achmed?

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A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young Mothers and their small children. "You all have obsessions," he observed.

To the first mother, Mary, he said, "You are obsessed with eating. You have even named your daughter 'Candy'."

He turned to the second Mom, Ann. "Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, 'Penny'."

He turned to the third Mom, Joyce. "Your obsession is with alcohol. This shows, too, in your child's name, 'Brandy'."

At this point, the fourth Mother, Kathy, quietly got up, took her little boy by the hand and whispered, "Come on, Dick. This guy has no idea what he's talking about. Let's go pick up Peter and Willy from school and get dinner."

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My favorite word today is atheist. N., is this where you reincarnate? Def.: This is a guy who has nothing to say when he's having an orgasm.