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For those of you who don’t have kids, keep your snit to yourself.  Click on the image to read.  Blog worthy?

parenting time 277x300 Friends with Kids

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The kids filed back into class Monday morning.  They were very excited. Their weekend assignment was to sell something, then give a talk on productive salesmanship.

Little Sally led off:  ‘I sold Girl Scout cookies and I made $30,’  she said proudly.  ‘My sales approach was to appeal to the customer’s civil spirit and I credit that approach for my obvious success.’

‘Very good,’ said the teacher.

Little Jenny was next:  ‘I sold magazines,’ she said.  ‘I made $45 and I explained to everyone that magazines would keep them up on current events.’

‘Very good, Jenny,’ said the teacher.

Eventually, it was Little Johnny’s turn.  The teacher held her breath. Little Johnny walked to the front of the classroom and dumped a box full of cash on the teacher’s desk.  

‘$2,467,’ he said.

‘$2,467!’ cried the teacher.  ‘What in the world were you selling?’

‘Toothbrushes,’ said Little Johnny.

‘Toothbrushes,’ echoed the teacher.  ‘How could you possibly sell enough toothbrushes to make that much money?’

‘I found the busiest corner in town,’ said Little Johnny.  ‘I set up a Dip & Chip stand.  I gave everybody who walked by a sample.  They all said the same thing, ‘Hey, this tastes like shit!’  Then I would say,  ‘It is shit. Wanna buy a toothbrush?’

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Three Rednecks were working up on a cell phone tower:  Cooter, Ronnie and Donnie.

As they start their descent, Cooter slips, falls off the tower and is killed instantly. As the ambulance takes the body away, Ronnie says, ‘Well damn, someone should go and tell his wife.’

Donnie says, ‘OK, I’m pretty good at that sensitive stuff. I’ll do it.’

Two hours later, he comes back carrying a case of Budweiser.

Ronnie says, ‘Where did you get that beer, Donnie?’

‘Cooter’s wife gave it to me,’ Donnie replies.

‘That’s unbelievable, you told the lady her husband was dead and she gave you a case of beer,’ Ronnie said.

‘Well, not exactly,’ Donnie says. ‘When she answered the door, I said to her, ‘you must be Cooter’s widow.’’

She said, ‘You must be mistaken, I’m not a widow.’

Then I said, ‘I’ll bet you a case of Budweiser you are.’

Rednecks Are Good At Sensitive Shit.

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The Center for Disease Control has issued a medical alert about a highly contagious, potentially dangerous virus that is transmitted orally, by hand, and even electronically.

This virus is called Weary Overload Recreational Killer (WORK).

If you receive WORK from your boss, any of your colleagues or anyone else via any means whatsoever - DO NOT TOUCH IT. This virus will wipe out your private life completely. 

If you should come into contact with WORK you should immediately leave the premises. Take two good friends to the nearest grocery store and purchase one or both of the antidotes - Work Isolating Neutralizer Extract (WINE) and Bothersome Employer Elimination Rebooter (BEER).

Take the antidote repeatedly until WORK has been completely eliminated from your system.  You should immediately forward this medical alert to five friends. If
you do not have five friends, you have already been infected and WORK is controlling your life.

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blogworthy 125x1251 Anger Management for those Really Bad DaysWhen you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don’t know, but you know deserves it.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I’d forgotten to make.

I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered, saying, ‘Hello.’

I politely said, ‘This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?’

Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear, ‘Get the right f***ing number!’ and the phone was slammed down on me.

I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude! When I tracked down Robyn’s correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

After hanging up with her, I decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again.

When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, ‘You’re an asshole!’ and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word ‘asshole’ next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, ‘You’re an asshole!’

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic  ’asshole’ calling would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, ‘Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I’m calling to see if you’re familiar with our Caller ID Program?’

He yelled, ‘NO!’ and slammed down the phone.

I quickly called him back and said, ‘That’s because you’re an asshole!’ and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking Spot.  Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for.

I hit the horn and yelled that I’d been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me.

I noticed a ‘For Sale ‘ sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had is number on speed dial,) I thought that I’d better call the BMW asshole, too.

I said, ‘Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?’

He said, ‘Yes, it is.’

I then asked, ‘Can you tell me where I can see it?’

He said, ‘Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree  Blvd, in Fairfax.  It’s a yellow ranch style house and the car’s parked right out in front.’

I asked, ‘What’s your name?’

He said, ‘My name is Don Hansen,’

I asked, ‘When’s  a good time to catch you, Don?’

He said,  ‘I’m home every evening after five.’

I said, ‘Listen, Don, can I tell you something?’

He said, ‘Yes?’

I said, ‘Don, you’re an asshole!’

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea…

I called asshole #1.

He said, ‘Hello.’

I said, ‘You’re an asshole!’ (But I didn’t hang up.)

He asked, ‘Are you still there?’

I said, ‘Yeah!’

He screamed, ‘Stop calling me,’

I said, ‘Make me,’

He asked, ‘Who are you?’

I said, ‘My name is Don Hansen.’

He said, ‘Yeah? Where do you live?’

I said, ‘Asshole, I live at 34  Oaktree  Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ranch style home and I have a black Beamer parked in front.’

He said, ‘I’m coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.’

I said, ‘Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole.’ and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2.

He said, ‘Hello?’

I said, ‘Hello, asshole.’

He yelled, ‘If I ever find out who you are…’

I said, ‘You’ll what?’

He exclaimed, ‘I’ll kick your ass,’

I answered, ‘Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.’

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at  34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 7 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd in Fairfax.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax.

I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really does work.

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continental airline complaint picture Bathing in a Toilet Bowl1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars(3 votes, average: 0.33 out of 5)
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This is an oldie but goodie.  I still laugh out loud when I read this Continental Airline complaint.  If you’ve ever flown and had the lucky experience of sitting next to the lavatory, you’ll especially appreciate the candor of this letter.  Take special note of the illustrations as they add an immense amount of value to the complaint.  Click on the image to see the entire complaint…it’s hilarious.

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