<?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-3990522219685943306</id><updated>2011-04-29T17:34:46.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Buck Rockets</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>85</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7026426422661295121</id><published>2008-10-15T16:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:01:22.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Think before you speak.....</title><content type='html'>Here are six reasons why you should think before you speak -&lt;br&gt;                         the last one is great!&lt;br&gt;             Have you ever spoken and wished that you could&lt;br&gt;                   immediately take the words back...&lt;br&gt;          Here are the Testimonials of a few people who did....&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;                            FIRST TESTIMONY:&lt;br&gt;    I walked into a hair salon with my husband and three kids in tow&lt;br&gt;                            and asked loudly,&lt;br&gt;         &amp;#39;How much do you charge for a shampoo and a blow job?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;         I turned around and walked back out and never went back&lt;br&gt;                     My husband didn&amp;#39;t say a word..&lt;br&gt;                             he knew better.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;                            SECOND TESTIMONY:&lt;br&gt;    I was at the golf store comparing different kinds of golf balls.&lt;br&gt;          I was unhappy with the women&amp;#39;s type I had been using.&lt;br&gt;                   After browsing for several minutes,&lt;br&gt; I was approached by one of the good-looking gentlemen who works at the&lt;br&gt;                                 store.&lt;br&gt;                      He asked if he could help me.&lt;br&gt; Without thinking, I looked at him and said, &amp;#39;I think I like playing with&lt;br&gt;                              men&amp;#39;s balls&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;                            THIRD TESTIMONY:&lt;br&gt;                  My sister and I were at the mall and&lt;br&gt;                      passed by a store that sold a&lt;br&gt;                       variety of candy and nuts.&lt;br&gt;                 As we were looking at the display case,&lt;br&gt;         the boy behind the counter asked if we needed any help.&lt;br&gt;             I replied, &amp;#39;No, I&amp;#39;m just looking at your nuts.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;                My sister started to laugh hysterically.&lt;br&gt;         The boy grinned, and I turned beet-red and walked away.&lt;br&gt;                              To this day,&lt;br&gt;                   my sister has never let me forget.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;                           FOURTH TESTIMONY :&lt;br&gt;                While in line at the bank one afternoon,&lt;br&gt;                      my toddler decided to release&lt;br&gt;                    some pent-up energy and ran amok.&lt;br&gt;                   I was finally able to grab hold of&lt;br&gt;                  her after receiving looks of disgust&lt;br&gt;                    and annoyance from other patrons.&lt;br&gt;              I told her that if she did not start behaving&lt;br&gt;                   &amp;#39;right now&amp;#39; she would be punished.&lt;br&gt;   To my horror, she looked me in the eye and said in a voice just as&lt;br&gt;                              threatening,&lt;br&gt;                   &amp;#39;If you don&amp;#39;t let me go right now,&lt;br&gt;                   I will tell Grandma that I saw you&lt;br&gt;                  kissing Daddy&amp;#39;s pee-pee last night!&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;       The silence was deafening after this enlightening exchange.&lt;br&gt;             Even the tellers stopped what they were doing.&lt;br&gt;                I mustered up the last of my dignity and&lt;br&gt;             walked out of the bank with my daughter in tow.&lt;br&gt; The last thing I heard when the door closed behind me, were screams of&lt;br&gt;                                laughter.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;                            FIFTH TESTIMONY:&lt;br&gt;        Have you ever asked your child a question too many times?&lt;br&gt; My three-year-old son had a lot of problems with potty training and I was&lt;br&gt;                           on him constantly.&lt;br&gt;  One day we stopped at Taco Bell for a quick lunch, in between errands&lt;br&gt;               It was very busy, with a full dining room.&lt;br&gt;                         While enjoying my taco,&lt;br&gt;                       I smelled something funny,&lt;br&gt;                         so of course I checked&lt;br&gt;               my seven-month-old daughter, she was clean.&lt;br&gt;                         The realized that Danny&lt;br&gt;                  had not asked to go potty in a while.&lt;br&gt;                     I asked him if he needed to go,&lt;br&gt;                           and he said &amp;#39;No&amp;#39; .&lt;br&gt;                             I kept thinking&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Oh Lord, that child has had an accident, and I don&amp;#39;t have any clothes with&lt;br&gt;                                  me.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;                              Then I said,&lt;br&gt;           &amp;#39;Danny, are you SURE you didn&amp;#39;t have an accident?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;                            &amp;#39;No,&amp;#39; he replied.&lt;br&gt;  I just KNEW that he must have had an accident, because the smell was&lt;br&gt;                             getting worse.&lt;br&gt;Soooooo, I asked one more time, &amp;#39;Danny did you have an accident ? This time&lt;br&gt;                  he jumped up, yanked down his pants,&lt;br&gt;                      bent over, spread his cheeks&lt;br&gt;                               and yelled&lt;br&gt;                      &amp;#39;SEE MOM, IT&amp;#39;S JUST FARTS!!&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;     While 30 people nearly choked to death on their tacos laughing,&lt;br&gt;               he calmly pulled up his pants and sat down.&lt;br&gt;                   An old couple made me feel better,&lt;br&gt;             thanking me for the best laugh they&amp;#39;d ever had!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;                      LAST BUT NOT LEAST TESTIMONY:&lt;br&gt;       This had most of the state of Michigan laughing for 2 days&lt;br&gt;           and a very embarrassed female news anchor who will,&lt;br&gt;             in the future, likely think before she speaks.&lt;br&gt;          What happens when you predict snow but don&amp;#39;t get any!&lt;br&gt;                    We had a female news anchor that,&lt;br&gt;        the day after it was supposed to have snowed and didn&amp;#39;t,&lt;br&gt;                   turned to the weatherman and asked:&lt;br&gt;       &amp;#39;So Bob, where&amp;#39;s that 8 inches you promised me last night?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;                 Not only did HE have to leave the set,&lt;br&gt;          but half the crew did too they were laughing so hard!&lt;p&gt;                       Now, didn&amp;#39;t that feel good?&lt;br&gt;            Pass it on to someone you know who needs a laugh&lt;br&gt;                              and remember&lt;br&gt;                 we all say things we don&amp;#39;t really mean,&lt;br&gt;                      so think before you speak!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7026426422661295121?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7026426422661295121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7026426422661295121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7026426422661295121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7026426422661295121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/10/think-before-you-speak.html' title='Think before you speak.....'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7128915230780748816</id><published>2008-10-13T07:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T07:02:34.654-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mustang Ranch</title><content type='html'>Back in 1990, the Government seized the Mustang Ranch brothel in&lt;br&gt;Nevada for tax evasion and as required by law, tried to run it.&lt;p&gt;They failed and it closed.&lt;p&gt;Now we are trusting the economy of our nation to a pack of nit-wits&lt;br&gt;who couldn&amp;#39;t make money running a whorehouse and selling booze???????&lt;p&gt;GIVE ME A BREAK........................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7128915230780748816?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7128915230780748816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7128915230780748816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7128915230780748816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7128915230780748816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/10/mustang-ranch.html' title='Mustang Ranch'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4633283891197192795</id><published>2008-10-11T09:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T09:42:34.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gorilla and the Redneck</title><content type='html'>A small zoo in Tennessee obtained a very rare species of gorilla.&lt;p&gt;Within a few weeks the gorilla, a female, became very difficult to&lt;br&gt;handle. Upon examination, the veterinarian determined the problem. The&lt;br&gt;gorilla was in heat.&lt;br&gt;To make matters worse, there was no male gorilla available.&lt;p&gt;Thinking about their problem, the Zoo Keeper thought of Bobby Lee&lt;br&gt;Walton, a redneck part-time worker responsible for cleaning the animal&lt;br&gt;cages.&lt;br&gt;Bobby Lee, like most rednecks, had little sense but possessed ample&lt;br&gt;ability to satisfy a female of any species.&lt;p&gt;The Zoo Keeper thought they might have a solution. Bobby Lee was&lt;br&gt;approached with a proposition. Would he be willing to mate with the&lt;br&gt;gorilla for $500.00?&lt;p&gt;Bobby Lee showed some interest, but said he would have to think the&lt;br&gt;matter over carefully.&lt;br&gt;The following day, he announced that he would accept their offer, but&lt;br&gt;only under five conditions:&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;First&amp;#39;, Bobby Lee said, &amp;#39;I ain&amp;#39;t gonna kiss her on the lips.&amp;#39; The&lt;br&gt;Keeper quickly agreed to this condition.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Second&amp;#39;, he said, &amp;#39;She must wear a &amp;#39;Dale Earnhardt Forever&amp;#39; T-Shirt.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;The keeper again readily agreed to this condition.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Third&amp;#39;, he said, &amp;#39;you can&amp;#39;t never tell no one about this.&amp;#39; The keeper&lt;br&gt;again readily agreed to this condition&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Fourth&amp;#39;, Bobby Lee said, &amp;#39;I want all the children raised Southern&lt;br&gt;Baptist.&amp;#39; Once again it was agreed.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;And last,&amp;#39; Bobby Lee said, &amp;#39;I&amp;#39;ll need another week to come up with the $500.00&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4633283891197192795?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4633283891197192795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4633283891197192795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4633283891197192795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4633283891197192795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/10/gorilla-and-redneck.html' title='The Gorilla and the Redneck'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3701762429272715173</id><published>2008-09-29T12:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T12:28:05.159-05:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Ways To Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;1.&amp;nbsp;At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on and point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars.&amp;nbsp;See If They Slow Down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;2.&amp;nbsp;Page Yourself Over The Intercom.Don't Disguise&amp;nbsp;Your Voice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;3.&amp;nbsp;Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something,&amp;nbsp;ask If They Want Fries with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;4.&amp;nbsp;Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label it&amp;nbsp;'In'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;5.&amp;nbsp;Put Decaf In The&amp;nbsp;Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone has Gotten Over TheirCaffeine Addictions,&amp;nbsp;Switch to Espresso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;6.&amp;nbsp;In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write&amp;nbsp;'&amp;nbsp;For Sexual Favors'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;7.&amp;nbsp;Finish All Your sentences with&amp;nbsp;'In Accordance With The Prophecy'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;8.&amp;nbsp;Don't use any punctuation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;9.&amp;nbsp;As Often As Possible,&amp;nbsp;Skip&amp;nbsp;Rather Than Walk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;10.&amp;nbsp;Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat,&amp;nbsp;with a serious face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;11.&amp;nbsp;Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is&amp;nbsp;'To Go'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;12.&amp;nbsp;Sing Along At The Opera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;13.&amp;nbsp;Go To A Poetry Recital. And Ask&amp;nbsp;Why The Poems Don't Rhyme?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;14.&amp;nbsp;Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area and&amp;nbsp;Play tropical Sounds All Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;15.&amp;nbsp;Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party BecauseYou're&amp;nbsp;Not In the Mood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;16.&amp;nbsp;Have Your Co-workers Address You By Your Wrestling Name,&amp;nbsp;Rock Bottom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;17.&amp;nbsp;When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream&amp;nbsp;'I Won! I Won!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;18.&amp;nbsp;When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot, Yelling - 'Run For Your Lives! They're Loose!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;19.&amp;nbsp;Tell Your Children Over Dinner,&amp;nbsp;'Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;20.&amp;nbsp;And The Final Way To Keep A Healthy Level Of Insanity ..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" color="#1F50A6"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3701762429272715173?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3701762429272715173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3701762429272715173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3701762429272715173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3701762429272715173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/09/20-ways-to-maintain-healthy-level-of.html' title='20 Ways To Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-9130056673568744662</id><published>2008-09-15T14:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T14:33:37.141-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cussing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;A 6 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs in their bedroom. 'You know what?' says the 6 year old, I think it's about time we started cussing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, 'When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna say something with hell and you say something with ass..' The&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #1f50a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;When the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, 'Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios.' WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts, 'You can stay there until I let you out!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #1f50a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4 year old and asks with a stern voice, 'And what do YOU want for breakfast, young man?'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #1f50a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(31, 80, 166); "&gt;I don't know, he blubbers, 'but you can bet your fat ass it won't be Cheerios!'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" color="#1F50A6"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-9130056673568744662?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/9130056673568744662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=9130056673568744662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/9130056673568744662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/9130056673568744662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/09/cussing.html' title='Cussing'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4375044274831437390</id><published>2008-09-03T10:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T10:39:04.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Men Are Just Happier People</title><content type='html'>&lt;/p&gt;NICKNAMES&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they will call each&lt;br&gt;other Laura, Kate and  Sarah.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will affectionately refer to&lt;br&gt;each other as Fat Boy, Godzilla and Four-eyes.&lt;p&gt;EATING OUT&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave and John will each throw in&lt;br&gt;$20, even though it&amp;#39;s only for $32.50.  None of them will have&lt;br&gt;anything smaller and none will actually admit they want change back.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.&lt;p&gt;MONEY&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she  doesn&amp;#39;t need but it&amp;#39;s on sale.&lt;p&gt;BATHROOMS&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A man has six items in his bathroom:  toothbrush and toothpaste,&lt;br&gt;shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a  towel ..&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    The average number of items in the typical woman&amp;#39;s bathroom is&lt;br&gt;337.  A man would not be able to identify more than 20 of these&lt;br&gt;items.&lt;p&gt;ARGUMENTS&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A woman has the last word in  any argument.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.&lt;p&gt;FUTURE&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.&lt;p&gt;SUCCESS&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A successful woman is one who can find such a man.&lt;p&gt;MARRIAGE&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn&amp;#39;t.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A man marries a woman expecting that she won&amp;#39;t change, but she does.&lt;p&gt;DRESSING UP&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the&lt;br&gt;trash, answer the phone, read a  book, and get the mail.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.&lt;p&gt;NATURAL&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    Women somehow deteriorate during the night.&lt;p&gt;OFFSPRING&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    Ah, children.  A woman knows all about her children.  She knows&lt;br&gt;about  dentist appointments and romances, best friends, favorite&lt;br&gt;foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#183;    A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.&lt;p&gt;THOUGHT FOR THE  DAY&lt;br&gt; A married man should forget his mistakes.  There&amp;#39;s no use in two&lt;br&gt;people remembering the same thing!&lt;br&gt;SO, send this to the women who have a sense  of humor and who can&lt;br&gt;handle it ... and to the men who will enjoy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4375044274831437390?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4375044274831437390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4375044274831437390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4375044274831437390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4375044274831437390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/09/men-are-just-happier-people.html' title='Men Are Just Happier People'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8752161790560064966</id><published>2008-08-16T11:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T11:26:04.084-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Journey Of A Man</title><content type='html'>When I was 14, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend.&lt;p&gt;When I was 16, I got a girlfriend, but there was no passion, so I&lt;br&gt;decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.&lt;p&gt;In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional.&lt;br&gt;Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time&lt;br&gt;and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.&lt;p&gt;When I was 25 I found a very stable girl but she was boring.  She was&lt;br&gt;totally predictable and never got excited about anything.  Life became&lt;br&gt;so dull that I decided that I needed a girl with some excitement.&lt;p&gt;When I was 28 I found an exciting girl, but I couldn&amp;#39;t keep up with&lt;br&gt;her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything.&lt;br&gt; She did mad impetuous things and made me miserable as often as happy.&lt;br&gt; She was great fun initially and very energetic, but directionless.&lt;br&gt;So I decided to find a girl with some real ambition.&lt;p&gt;When I turned 30, I found a smart ambitious girl with her feet planted&lt;br&gt;firmly on the ground, so I married her.  She was so ambitious that she&lt;br&gt;divorced me and took everything I owned.&lt;p&gt;I am older and wiser now, and am looking for a girl with big tits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8752161790560064966?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8752161790560064966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8752161790560064966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8752161790560064966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8752161790560064966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/08/journey-of-man.html' title='The Journey Of A Man'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1881807032976923448</id><published>2008-08-13T14:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:09:44.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Lawyers in my life</title><content type='html'>One afternoon a lawyer was riding in his limousine when he saw two men&lt;br&gt;along the roadside eating grass. Disturbed, he ordered his driver to&lt;br&gt;stop and he got out to investigate.&lt;p&gt;He asked one man, &amp;quot;Why are you eating grass?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;We don&amp;#39;t have any money for food,&amp;quot; the poor man replied. &amp;quot;We have to&lt;br&gt;eat grass.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Well, then, you can come with me to my house and I&amp;#39;ll feed you,&amp;quot; the&lt;br&gt;lawyer said.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;But sir, I have a wife and two children with me. They are over there,&lt;br&gt;under that tree.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Bring them along,&amp;quot; the lawyer replied. Turning to the other poor man&lt;br&gt;he stated, &amp;quot;You come with us also.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The second man, in a pitiful voice, then said, &amp;quot;But sir, I also have a&lt;br&gt;wife and SIX children with me!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Bring them all, as well,&amp;quot; the lawyer answered.&lt;p&gt;They all entered the car, which was no easy task, even for a car as&lt;br&gt;large as the limousine was. Once underway, one of the poor fellows&lt;br&gt;turned to the lawyer and said, &amp;quot;Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for&lt;br&gt;taking all of us with you.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The lawyer replied, &amp;quot;Glad to do it. You&amp;#39;ll really love my place. The&lt;br&gt;grass is almost a foot high.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1881807032976923448?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1881807032976923448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1881807032976923448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1881807032976923448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1881807032976923448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-lawyers-in-my-life.html' title='For the Lawyers in my life'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6149209725948787075</id><published>2008-07-31T13:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T13:28:08.193-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spanish lesson</title><content type='html'>A SPANISH Teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike&lt;br&gt;English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;House&amp;#39; for instance, is feminine: &amp;#39;la casa.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Pencil,&amp;#39; however, is masculine: &amp;#39;el lapiz.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;A student asked, &amp;#39;What gender is &amp;#39;computer&amp;#39;?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two&lt;br&gt;groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves&lt;br&gt;whether computer&amp;#39; should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group&lt;br&gt;was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.&lt;p&gt;The men&amp;#39;s group decided that &amp;#39;computer&amp;#39; should definitely be of the&lt;br&gt;feminine gender (&amp;#39;la computadora&amp;#39;), because:&lt;p&gt;1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;&lt;p&gt;2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is&lt;br&gt;incomprehensible to everyone else;&lt;p&gt;3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for&lt;br&gt;possible later retrieval; and&lt;p&gt;4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself&lt;br&gt;spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.&lt;p&gt;(THIS GETS BETTER!)&lt;p&gt;The women&amp;#39;s group, however, concluded that computers should be&lt;br&gt;Masculine (&amp;#39;el computador&amp;#39;), because:&lt;p&gt;1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;&lt;p&gt;2. They have a lot of data but still can&amp;#39;t think for themselves;&lt;p&gt;3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time&lt;br&gt;they ARE the problem; and&lt;p&gt;4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a&lt;br&gt;little longer, you could have gotten a better model.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6149209725948787075?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6149209725948787075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6149209725948787075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6149209725948787075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6149209725948787075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/07/spanish-lesson.html' title='Spanish lesson'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4449549597170989851</id><published>2008-07-29T07:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T07:02:32.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Depot</title><content type='html'>A man asks: &amp;quot;In what aisle could I find the Polish sausage?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The clerk looks at him and says, &amp;quot;Are you Polish?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The guy (clearly offended) says, &amp;quot;Well, yes I am. But let me ask you&lt;br&gt;something. If I had asked for Italian sausage, would you ask me if I&lt;br&gt;was Italian? Or if I had asked for German Bratwurst, would you ask me&lt;br&gt;if I was German? Or if I asked for a kosher hot dog. would you ask me&lt;br&gt;if I was Jewish? Or if I had asked for a Taco, would you ask if I was&lt;br&gt;Mexican? If I asked for some Irish whiskey, would you ask if I was&lt;br&gt;Irish?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The clerk says, &amp;quot;Well, no, I probably wouldn&amp;#39;t!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;With deep self-righteous indignation, the guy says, &amp;quot;Well then, why&lt;br&gt;did you ask me if I&amp;#39;m Polish because I asked for Polish sausage?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The clerk replied, &amp;quot;Because you&amp;#39;re in Home Depot.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4449549597170989851?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4449549597170989851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4449549597170989851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4449549597170989851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4449549597170989851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/07/home-depot.html' title='Home Depot'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-480151241419466594</id><published>2008-07-28T07:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T07:38:58.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>DIFFERENT WAYS OF LOOKING AT THINGS...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;DIFFERENT WAYS OF LOOKING AT THINGS...&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;Two guys were discussing popular family trends on sex, marriage, and values. Stu said, &amp;#39;I didn&amp;#39;t sleep with my wife before we got married, Did you?&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Leroy replied, &amp;#39;I&amp;#39;m not sure, what was her maiden name?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;A little boy went up to his father and asked: &amp;#39;Dad, where did my intelligence come from?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;The father replied. &amp;#39;Well son, you must have got it from your mother, &amp;#39;cause I still have mine.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Mr. Clark, I have reviewed this case very carefully,&amp;#39; the divorce Court Judge said, &amp;#39;And I&amp;#39;ve decided to give your wife $775 a week,&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;#39;That&amp;#39;s very fair, your honor,&amp;#39; the husband said. &amp;#39;And every now and then I&amp;#39;ll try to send her a few bucks myself.&amp;#39;; &lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;A doctor examining a woman who had been rushed to the Emergency Room, took the husband aside, and said, &amp;#39;I don&amp;#39;t like the looks of your wife at all.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;#39;Me neither doc,&amp;#39; said the husband. &amp;#39;But she&amp;#39;s a great cook and really good with the kids&amp;#39;.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;An old man goes to the Wizard to ask him if he can remove a curse he has been living with for the last 40 years.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;The Wizard says, &amp;#39;Maybe, but you will have to tell me the exact words that were used to put the curse on you&amp;#39;.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;The old man says without hesitation, &amp;#39;I now pronounce you man and wife.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;Two Reasons Why It&amp;#39;s So Hard To Solve A Redneck Murder.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;1. The DNA all matches ..&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;2. There are no dental records.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;A blonde calls Delta Airlines and asks, &amp;#39;Can you tell me how long it&amp;#39;ll take to fly from San Francisco to New York City ?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;The agent replies, &amp;#39;Just a minute..&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Thank you,&amp;#39; the blonde says, and hangs up.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;Two Mexican detectives were investigating the murder of Juan Gonzalez.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;How was he killed?&amp;#39; asked one detective.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;With a golf gun,&amp;#39; the other detective replied. &amp;#39;A golf gun?!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;What is a golf gun?&amp;#39; &amp;#39;I don&amp;#39;t know. But it sure made a hole in Juan.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;--------------------------------------- &lt;br&gt;Moe: &amp;#39;My wife got me to believe in religion.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;Joe: &amp;#39;Really?&amp;#39;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Moe: &amp;#39;Yeah. Until I married her I didn&amp;#39;t believe in hell.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br&gt;A man is recovering from surgery when the Surgical Nurse appears and asks him how he is feeling.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;I&amp;#39;m O. K. but I didn&amp;#39;t like the four-letter-word the doctor used in surgery,&amp;#39; he answered.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;What did he say,&amp;#39; asked the nurse.&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;OOPS&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;---------------------------------------- &lt;br&gt; While shopping for vacation clothes, my husband and I passed a display of bathing suits. It had been at least ten years and twenty pounds since I had even considered buying a bathing suit, so sought my husband&amp;#39;s advice.&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;What do you think?&amp;#39; I asked. &amp;#39;Should I get a bikini or an all-in-one?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Better get a bikini,&amp;#39; he replied. &amp;#39;You&amp;#39;d never get it all in one.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;He&amp;#39;s still in intensive care.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-480151241419466594?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/480151241419466594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=480151241419466594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/480151241419466594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/480151241419466594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/07/different-ways-of-looking-at-things.html' title='DIFFERENT WAYS OF LOOKING AT THINGS...'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6806963216959223859</id><published>2008-07-14T07:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T07:20:00.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Square Testicles</title><content type='html'>An elderly woman walked into the Bank of Canada one morning with a&lt;br&gt;purse full of money. She wanted to open a savings account and insisted&lt;br&gt;on talking to the president of the Bank because, she said, she had a&lt;br&gt;lot of money.&lt;p&gt;After many lengthy discussions (after all, the client is always right)&lt;br&gt;an employee took the elderly woman to the president&amp;#39;s office.&lt;p&gt;The president of the Bank asked her how much she wanted to deposit.&lt;br&gt;She placed her purse on his desk and replied, &amp;#39;$165,000&amp;#39;. The&lt;br&gt;president was curious and asked her how she had been able to save so&lt;br&gt;much money The elderly woman replied that she made bets.&lt;p&gt;The president was surprised and asked, &amp;#39;What kind of bets?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The elderly woman replied, &amp;#39;Well, I bet you $25,000 that your&lt;br&gt;testicles are square.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The president started to laugh and told the woman that it was&lt;br&gt;impossible to win a bet like that.&lt;p&gt;The woman never batted an eye. She just looked at the president and&lt;br&gt;said, &amp;#39;Would you like to take my bet?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Certainly&amp;#39;, replied the president. &amp;#39;I bet you $25,000 that my&lt;br&gt;testicles are not square.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Done&amp;#39;, the elderly woman answered. &amp;#39;But given the amount of money&lt;br&gt;involved, if you don&amp;#39;t mind I would like to come back at 10 o&amp;#39; clock&lt;br&gt;tomorrow morning with my lawyer as a witness.&amp;#39; &amp;#39;No problem&amp;#39;, said the&lt;br&gt;president of the Bank confidently.&lt;p&gt;That night, the president became very nervous about the bet and spent&lt;br&gt;a long time in front of the mirror examining his testicles, turning&lt;br&gt;them this way and that, checking them over again and again until he&lt;br&gt;was positive that no one could consider his testicles as square and&lt;br&gt;reassuring himself that there was no way he could lose the bet.&lt;p&gt;The next morning at exactly 10 o&amp;#39;clock the elderly woman arrived at&lt;br&gt;the president&amp;#39;s office with her lawyer and acknowledged the $25,000&lt;br&gt;bet made the day before that the president&amp;#39;s testicles were square.&lt;p&gt;The president confirmed that the bet was the same as the one made the&lt;br&gt;day before. Then the elderly woman asked him to drop his pants etc. so&lt;br&gt;that she and her lawyer could see clearly.&lt;p&gt;The president was happy to oblige.&lt;p&gt;The elderly woman came closer so she could see better and asked the&lt;br&gt;president if she could touch them. &amp;#39;Of course&amp;#39;, said the president.&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Given the amount of money involved, you should be 100% sure.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The elderly woman did so with a little smile. Suddenly the president&lt;br&gt;noticed that the lawyer was banging his head against the wall. He&lt;br&gt;asked the elderly woman why he was doing that and she replied,&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Oh, it&amp;#39;s probably because I bet him $100,000 that around 10 o&amp;#39;clock&lt;br&gt;in the morning I would be holding the balls of the President of the&lt;br&gt;Bank of Canada!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The origin of this Canadian story is unknown but it brings luck to&lt;br&gt;everyone to whom it is sent. Whoever breaks the chain would definitely&lt;br&gt;be unlucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6806963216959223859?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6806963216959223859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6806963216959223859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6806963216959223859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6806963216959223859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/07/square-testicles.html' title='Square Testicles'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3044975554434694059</id><published>2008-07-07T13:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T13:38:20.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blind man</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;A blind man wanders into a &lt;span class="nfakPe"&gt;lesbian&lt;/span&gt; biker bar by mistake.    He finds his way to a bar stool and orders a drink.  After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender, &amp;#39;Hey, you  wanna  hear a blonde joke?&amp;#39;    The bar immediately falls absolutely quiet. In a very deep, husky voice,  the  woman next to him says,  &amp;#39;Before you tell that joke, sir, I think it is  only  fair -- given that you are blind, that you should know five  things:    &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;1. The bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat.  &lt;br&gt;2. The bouncer is a blonde girl.  &lt;br&gt;3. I&amp;#39;m a 6 foot tall, 175 lb. blonde woman with a black belt in karate.  &lt;br&gt;4.  The woman sitting next to me is blonde and a professional weight-lifter.  &lt;br&gt; 5.  The lady to your right is blonde and a professional wrestler.    &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Now, think about it seriously, mister. Do you still wanna tell that  joke&amp;#39;    &lt;br&gt;The blind man thinks for a second, shakes his head, and mutters,    &amp;#39;Nah... not if I&amp;#39;m gonna have to explain it five times.&lt;/pre&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3044975554434694059?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3044975554434694059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3044975554434694059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3044975554434694059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3044975554434694059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/07/blind-man.html' title='Blind man'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4608581324682004967</id><published>2008-07-02T08:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T08:11:35.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurricanes re-named....</title><content type='html'>Please forgive me.......  this is not politically correct;&lt;br&gt;however...it be true!&lt;p&gt;It appears our African-American friends have found yet something else&lt;br&gt;to be pissed about.&lt;p&gt;A black congresswoman reportedly complained that the names of&lt;br&gt;hurricanes are all Caucasian sounding names.  She would prefer some&lt;br&gt;names that reflect African-American culture such as Chamiqua, Tanisha,&lt;br&gt;Woeisha, Shaqueal, and Jamal. She would also like the weather reports&lt;br&gt;to be broadcast in Language that street people can understand because&lt;br&gt;one of the problems in New Orleans is that regular folks couldn&amp;#39;t&lt;br&gt;understand the seriousness of the situation due to the racially biased&lt;br&gt;language of the weather report.&lt;p&gt;I can hear it now: A weatherman in Houston says…&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Wazzup, mutha-fukkas! Hehr-i-cane Chamiqua be headin&amp;#39; fo&amp;#39; yo ass like&lt;br&gt;Leroy on a crotch rocket! Bitch be a category fo&amp;#39;! So grab yo&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;chirren, yo&amp;#39; Ho, be leavin yo crib, and head fo&amp;#39; da nearest guv&amp;#39;ment&lt;br&gt;office fo yo FREE shit!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4608581324682004967?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4608581324682004967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4608581324682004967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4608581324682004967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4608581324682004967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/07/hurricanes-re-named.html' title='Hurricanes re-named....'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4784303557200466440</id><published>2008-06-30T14:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T14:10:37.444-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spread the Stupidity</title><content type='html'>Only in America ......do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to&lt;br&gt;the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people&lt;br&gt;can buy cigarettes at the front.&lt;p&gt;Only in America ......do people order double cheeseburgers, large&lt;br&gt;fries, and   a diet coke.&lt;p&gt;Only in America ......do banks leave both doors open and then chain&lt;br&gt;the pens to   the counters.&lt;p&gt;Only in America ......do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in&lt;br&gt;the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.&lt;p&gt;Only in America ......do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns&lt;br&gt;in packages of eight.&lt;p&gt;Only in America ......do we use the word &amp;#39;politics&amp;#39; to describe the&lt;br&gt;process so well: &amp;#39;Poli&amp;#39; in Latin meaning &amp;#39;many&amp;#39; and &amp;#39;tics&amp;#39; meaning&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;bloodsucking creatures&amp;#39;.&lt;p&gt;Only in America ......do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.&lt;p&gt;EVER WONDER ....&lt;p&gt;Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin ?&lt;p&gt;Why women can&amp;#39;t put on mascara with their mouth closed?&lt;p&gt;Why don&amp;#39;t you ever see the headline &amp;#39;Psychic Wins Lottery&amp;#39;?&lt;p&gt;Why is &amp;#39;abbreviated&amp;#39; such a long word?&lt;p&gt;Why is it that doctors call what they do &amp;#39;practice&amp;#39;?&lt;p&gt;Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid&lt;br&gt;made with real lemons?&lt;p&gt;Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?&lt;p&gt;Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?&lt;p&gt;Why isn&amp;#39;t there mouse-flavored cat food?&lt;p&gt;Why didn&amp;#39;t Noah swat those two   mosquitoes?&lt;p&gt;Why do they sterilize the needle for   lethal injections?&lt;p&gt;You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes? Why&lt;br&gt;don&amp;#39;t they make the whole plane out of that stuff?!&lt;p&gt;Why don&amp;#39;t sheep shrink when it rains?&lt;p&gt;Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?&lt;p&gt;If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?&lt;p&gt;If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?&lt;p&gt;Why is there a Victoria&amp;#39;s Secret across from the maternity store in most malls?&lt;p&gt;Now that you&amp;#39;ve smiled at least once, it&amp;#39;s your turn to spread the&lt;br&gt;stupidity and send this to someone you want to bring a smile to (maybe&lt;br&gt;even a chuckle)...in other words, send it to everyone. We all need to&lt;br&gt;smile every once in a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4784303557200466440?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4784303557200466440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4784303557200466440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4784303557200466440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4784303557200466440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/spread-stupidity.html' title='Spread the Stupidity'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-873114961282902725</id><published>2008-06-27T22:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T22:23:37.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>woman/man's poem</title><content type='html'>WOMAN&amp;#39;S POEM:&lt;p&gt;Before I lay me down to sleep,&lt;br&gt;I pray for a man, who&amp;#39;s not a creep,&lt;br&gt;One who&amp;#39;s handsome, smart and strong.&lt;br&gt;One who loves to listen long,&lt;br&gt;One who thinks before he speaks,&lt;br&gt;One who&amp;#39;ll call, not wait for weeks.&lt;br&gt;I pray he&amp;#39;s gainfully employed,&lt;br&gt;When I spend his cash, won&amp;#39;t be annoyed.&lt;br&gt;Pulls out my chair and opens my door.&lt;br&gt;Massages my back and begs to do more.&lt;br&gt;Oh! Send me a man who&amp;#39;ll make love to my mind,&lt;br&gt;Knows what to answer to &amp;#39;how big is my behind?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;I pray that this man will love me to no end,&lt;br&gt;And always be my very best friend.&lt;p&gt;A MAN&amp;#39;S POEM:&lt;p&gt;I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with&lt;br&gt;huge boobs who owns a bar on a golf course,&lt;br&gt;and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This&lt;br&gt;doesn&amp;#39;t rhyme and I don&amp;#39;t give a shit.&lt;p&gt;The End&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-873114961282902725?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/873114961282902725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=873114961282902725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/873114961282902725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/873114961282902725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/womanmans-poem.html' title='woman/man&apos;s poem'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-954187685652372352</id><published>2008-06-27T22:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T22:18:29.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>THIS SAYS IT ALL!!!...</title><content type='html'>I just want to thank all of you for your educational emails over the past year.&lt;p&gt;Thanks to you, I no longer open a public bathroom door without using a&lt;br&gt;paper towel.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;I can&amp;#39;t sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine&lt;br&gt;what has happened on it since it was last washed.&lt;p&gt;I can&amp;#39;t enjoy lemon slices in my tea or on my seafood anymore because&lt;br&gt;lemon peels have been found to contain all kinds of nasty germs&lt;br&gt;including feces.&lt;p&gt;I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because&lt;br&gt;the number one pass-time while driving alone is picking your nose&lt;br&gt;(although cell phone usage may be taking the number one spot)&lt;p&gt;Eating a Little Debbie sends me on a guilt trip because I can only&lt;br&gt;imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years.&lt;p&gt;I can&amp;#39;t touch any woman&amp;#39;s purse for fear she has placed it on the&lt;br&gt;floor of a public bathroom. Yuck!&lt;p&gt;I must send my special thanks to whoever sent me the one about poop in&lt;br&gt;the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with&lt;br&gt;every envelope that needs sealing.&lt;p&gt;Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.&lt;p&gt;I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny&lt;br&gt;Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.&lt;p&gt;I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive&lt;br&gt;the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for&lt;br&gt;participating in their special e-mail program.&lt;p&gt;I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking&lt;br&gt;out for me, and St. Theresa&amp;#39;s novena has granted my every wish.&lt;p&gt;I no longer eat KFC because their chi ckens are actually horrible&lt;br&gt;mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.&lt;p&gt;I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a&lt;br&gt;water buffalo on a hot day.&lt;p&gt;Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I&lt;br&gt;forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five&lt;br&gt;minutes.&lt;p&gt;Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can&lt;br&gt;remove toilet stains.&lt;p&gt;I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the&lt;br&gt;car so a serial killer won&amp;#39;t crawl in my back seat when I&amp;#39;m pumping&lt;br&gt;gas..&lt;p&gt;I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr Pepper since the people who make th ese&lt;br&gt;products are atheists who refuse to put &amp;#39;Under God&amp;#39; on their cans.&lt;p&gt;I no long er use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.&lt;p&gt;And thanks for let ting me know I can&amp;#39;t boil a cup of water in the&lt;br&gt;microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me&lt;br&gt;for life.&lt;p&gt;I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be&lt;br&gt;pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.&lt;p&gt;I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a&lt;br&gt;perfume sample and rob me.&lt;p&gt;I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually&lt;br&gt;A l Qaeda in disgu ise.&lt;p&gt;I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don&amp;#39;t support our&lt;br&gt;American troops or the Salvation Army.&lt;p&gt;I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a&lt;br&gt;number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica ,&lt;br&gt;Uganda &amp;amp; Singapore and Uzbekistan .&lt;br&gt;  I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now&lt;br&gt;have their recipe.&lt;p&gt;Thanks to you, I can&amp;#39;t use anyone&amp;#39;s toilet but mine because a big&lt;br&gt;brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant&lt;br&gt;death when it bites my butt.&lt;p&gt;And thanks to your great advice, I can&amp;#39;t ever pick up $5.00 dropped in&lt;br&gt;the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester&lt;br&gt;waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.&lt;p&gt;I can no longer drive my car because I can&amp;#39;t buy gas from certain gas&lt;br&gt;co mpanies!&lt;p&gt;If you don&amp;#39;t send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next&lt;br&gt;70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00&lt;br&gt;PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back,&lt;br&gt;causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it&lt;br&gt;actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;ex-mother-in-law&amp;#39;s second husband&amp;#39;s cousin&amp;#39;s beautician...&lt;p&gt;Have a wonderful day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-954187685652372352?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/954187685652372352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=954187685652372352' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/954187685652372352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/954187685652372352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/this-says-it-all.html' title='THIS SAYS IT ALL!!!...'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2876228687291040076</id><published>2008-06-17T19:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T19:49:10.071-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lil Johnny on politeness...</title><content type='html'>The Polite way to Pee&lt;p&gt;During one of her daily classes, a teacher trying to teach good&lt;br&gt;manners, asked her students the following question:&amp;#39;Michael, if you&lt;br&gt;were on a date having dinner with a nice young lady, how would you&lt;br&gt;tell her that you have to go to the bathroom?&amp;#39; Michael said, &amp;#39;Just a&lt;br&gt;minute I have to go pee.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The teacher responded by saying, &amp;#39;That would be rude and impolite.What&lt;br&gt;about you Sherman, how would you say it?&amp;#39; Sherman said, &amp;#39;I am sorry,&lt;br&gt;but I really need to go to the bathroom. I&amp;#39;ll be right back.&amp;#39;  &amp;#39;That&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;better, but it&amp;#39;s still not very nice to say the word bathroom at the&lt;br&gt;dinner table. And you, little Johnny, can you use your brain for once&lt;br&gt;and show us your good manners?&amp;#39; &amp;#39;I would say: Darling, may I please be&lt;br&gt;excused for a moment? I have to shake hands with a very dear friend of&lt;br&gt;mine, whom I hope to introduce you to after dinner.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The teacher fainted&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2876228687291040076?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2876228687291040076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2876228687291040076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2876228687291040076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2876228687291040076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/lil-johnny-on-politeness.html' title='Lil Johnny on politeness...'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3879408193412842725</id><published>2008-06-16T09:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T09:07:42.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Father</title><content type='html'>A little boy got on the bus, sat next to a man reading a book, and&lt;br&gt;noticed he had his collar on backwards. The little boy asked why he&lt;br&gt;wore his collar backwards.&lt;p&gt;The man, who was a priest, said, &amp;#39;I am a Father.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The little boy replied, &amp;#39;My Daddy doesn&amp;#39;t wear his collar like that.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The priest looked up from his book and answered,  &amp;#39;I am the Father of many.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The boy said, &amp;#39;&amp;#39;My Dad has 4 boys, 4 girls and two grandchildren and&lt;br&gt;he doesn&amp;#39;t wear his collar that way!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The priest, getting impatient, said. &amp;#39;I am the Father of hundreds&amp;#39;,&lt;br&gt;and went back to reading his book.&lt;p&gt;The little boy sat quietly thinking for a while, then leaned over and&lt;br&gt;said, &amp;#39;&amp;#39;Maybe you should wear a condom and put your pants on backwards&lt;br&gt;instead of your collar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3879408193412842725?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3879408193412842725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3879408193412842725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3879408193412842725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3879408193412842725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/father.html' title='Father'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2111320618197638550</id><published>2008-06-13T11:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T11:51:33.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Service</title><content type='html'>I became confused when I heard these terms which reference the word &amp;#39;service&amp;#39;.&lt;p&gt;Internal Revenue &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;U.S. Postal &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;Telephone &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;T.V. &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;Civil &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;City &amp;amp; County Public &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;Customer &amp;#39;Service&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;This is not what I thought &amp;#39;service&amp;#39; meant. But today, I overheard two&lt;br&gt;farmers talking, and one of them said he had hired a bull to &amp;#39;service&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;a few cows. BAM!!! It all came into perspective. I now understand what&lt;br&gt;all those &amp;#39;service&amp;#39; agencies are doing to us.&lt;p&gt;I hope you are as enlightened as I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2111320618197638550?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2111320618197638550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2111320618197638550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2111320618197638550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2111320618197638550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/service.html' title='Service'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-5160914473046382016</id><published>2008-06-12T12:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T12:37:34.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW DRUGS FOR WOMEN</title><content type='html'>DAMNITOL&lt;br&gt;Take 2 and the rest of the world can go to hell for up to 8 full hours.&lt;p&gt;EMPTYNESTROGEN&lt;br&gt;Suppository that eliminates melancholy and loneliness by reminding you&lt;br&gt;of how awful they were as teenagers and how you couldn&amp;#39;t wait till&lt;br&gt;they moved out!&lt;p&gt;ST. MOMMA&amp;#39;S WORT&lt;br&gt;Plant extract that treats mom&amp;#39;s depression by rendering preschoolers&lt;br&gt;unconscious for up to two days.&lt;p&gt;PEPTOBIMBO&lt;br&gt;Liquid silicone drink for single women. Two full cups swallowed before&lt;br&gt;an evening out increases breast size, decreases intelligence, and&lt;br&gt;prevents conception.&lt;p&gt;DUMBEROL&lt;br&gt;When taken with Peptobimbo, can cause dangerously low IQ, resulting in&lt;br&gt;enjoyment of country music and pickup trucks.&lt;p&gt;FLIPITOR&lt;br&gt;Increases life expectancy of commuters by controlling road rage and&lt;br&gt;the urge to flip off other drivers.&lt;p&gt;MENICILLIN&lt;br&gt;Potent anti-boy-otic for older women. Increases resistance to such&lt;br&gt;lethal lines as, &amp;#39;You ma! ke me w ant to be a better person. &amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;BUYAGRA&lt;br&gt;Injectable stimulant taken prior to shopping. Increases potency,&lt;br&gt;duration, and credit limit of spending spree.&lt;p&gt;JACKASSPIRIN&lt;br&gt;Relieves headache caused by a man who can&amp;#39;t remember your birthday,&lt;br&gt;anniversary, phone number, or to lift the toilet seat&lt;p&gt;ANTI-TALKSIDENT&lt;br&gt;A spray carried in a purse or wallet to be used on anyone too eager to&lt;br&gt;share their life stories with total strangers in elevators.&lt;p&gt;NAGAMENT&lt;br&gt;When administered to a boyfriend or husband, provides the same&lt;br&gt;irritation level as nagging him, without opening your mouth.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Now, send these to any woman who needs a good laugh, and any man who&lt;br&gt;can handle it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-5160914473046382016?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/5160914473046382016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=5160914473046382016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5160914473046382016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5160914473046382016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-drugs-for-women.html' title='NEW DRUGS FOR WOMEN'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1790880844508606031</id><published>2008-06-04T18:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T18:28:24.087-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Elephant Story</title><content type='html'>In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University .&amp;nbsp; On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments.&amp;nbsp; Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled.&amp;nbsp; Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.&amp;nbsp; Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day. &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing.&amp;nbsp; The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man. &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly. &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Probably wasn&amp;#39;t the same elephant. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1790880844508606031?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1790880844508606031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1790880844508606031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1790880844508606031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1790880844508606031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/elephant-story.html' title='Elephant Story'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2134108623572629293</id><published>2008-06-02T08:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T08:31:47.740-05:00</updated><title type='text'>LITTLE RALPHY</title><content type='html'>LITTLE RALPHY ON MATH&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;A teacher asks her class, &amp;#39;If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and&lt;br&gt;you shoot one of them, how many will be left?&amp;#39;  She calls on little&lt;br&gt;Ralphy.&lt;p&gt;He replies, &amp;#39;None, they will all fly away with the first gunshot.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The teacher replies, &amp;#39;The correct answer is 4, but I like your thinking.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Then little RALPHY says, &amp;#39;I have a question for YOU.&lt;p&gt;There are 3 women sitting on a bench having ice cream:&lt;p&gt;One is delicately licking the sides of the triple scoop of ice cream.&lt;br&gt;The second is gobbling down the top and sucking the cone.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The third is biting off the top of the ice cream. Which one is married?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The teacher, blushing a great deal, replied, &amp;#39;Well, I suppose the one&lt;br&gt;that&amp;#39;s gobbled down the top and sucked the cone.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;To which Little RALPHY replied, &amp;#39;The correct answer is &amp;#39;the one with&lt;br&gt;the wedding ring on,&amp;#39; but I like your thinking.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;LITTLE RALPHY ON MATH (Part 2)&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Little RALPHY returns from school and says he got an F in arithmetic.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Why?&amp;#39; asks the father?&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;The teacher asked &amp;#39;How much is 2x3,&amp;#39;&amp;#39; I said &amp;#39;6&amp;#39;, replies RALPHY.&lt;p&gt; &amp;#39;But that&amp;#39;s right!&amp;#39; says his dad.&lt;p&gt; &amp;#39;Yeah, but then she asked me &amp;#39;How much is 3x2?&amp;#39;&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt; &amp;#39;What&amp;#39;s the f...... difference?&amp;#39; asks the father.&lt;p&gt; &amp;#39;That&amp;#39;s what I said!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;LITTLE RALPHY ON ENGLISH&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Little RALPHY goes to school, and the teacher says, &amp;#39;Today we are&lt;br&gt;going to learn multi-syllable words, class. Does anybody have an&lt;br&gt;example of a multi-syllable word?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;RALPHY says &amp;#39;Mas-tur-bate.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Miss Rogers smiles and says, &amp;#39;Wow, little RALPHY, that&amp;#39;s a mouthful.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Little RALPHY says, &amp;#39;No, Miss Rogers, you&amp;#39;re thinking of a blowjob.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;LITTLE RALPHY ON GRAMMAR&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Little RALPHY was sitting in class one day. All of a sudden, he needed&lt;br&gt;to go to the toilet. He yelled out, &amp;#39;Miss Jones, I need to take a&lt;br&gt;piss!!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The teacher replied, &amp;#39;Now, RALPHY, that is NOT the proper word to use&lt;br&gt;in this situation. The correct word you want to use is &amp;#39;urinate.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;Please use the word &amp;#39;ur-i-nate&amp;#39; in a sentence correctly, and I will&lt;br&gt;allow you to go.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Little RALPHY, thinks for a bit, and then says, &amp;#39;You&amp;#39;re an eight, but&lt;br&gt;if you had bigger tits, you&amp;#39;d be a TEN!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;LITTLE RALPHY ON GRAMMAR (Part 2)&lt;p&gt;One day, during lessons on proper grammar, the teacher asked for a&lt;br&gt;show of hands from those who could use the word &amp;#39;beautiful&amp;#39; in the&lt;br&gt;same sentence twice.&lt;p&gt;First, she called on little Suzie, who responded with, &amp;#39;My father&lt;br&gt;bought my mother a beautiful dress and she looked beautiful in it.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Very good, Suzie,&amp;#39; replied the teacher. She then called on little Michael.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;My mummy planned a beautiful banquet and it turned out beautifully.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;She said, &amp;#39;Excellent, Michael!&amp;#39; Then the teacher reluctantly called on&lt;br&gt;little RALPHY.&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Last night at the dinner table, my sister told my father that she was&lt;br&gt;pregnant, and he said &amp;#39;Beautiful, just f...... beautiful!&amp;#39;&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;LITTLE RALPHY ON GETTING OLDER&lt;p&gt;Little RALPHY was sitting on a park bench munching on one candy bar&lt;br&gt;after another.&lt;br&gt;After the 6th one a man on the bench across from him said, &amp;#39;Son, you&lt;br&gt;know eating all that candy isn&amp;#39;t good for you. It will give you acne,&lt;br&gt;rot your teeth, and make you fat.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Little RALPHY replied, &amp;#39;My grandfather lived to be 107 years old.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The man asked, &amp;#39;Did your grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;Little RALPHY answered, &amp;#39;No, he minded his own f....... business.&lt;p&gt;I LOVE Little RALPHY!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2134108623572629293?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2134108623572629293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2134108623572629293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2134108623572629293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2134108623572629293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/06/little-ralphy.html' title='LITTLE RALPHY'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6320308420401169408</id><published>2008-05-30T09:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T09:15:46.834-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Classified Ads</title><content type='html'>Real Classified Ads&lt;br&gt;FREE YORKSHIRE TERRIER:&lt;br&gt;8 years old. Hateful little bastard. Bites!&lt;p&gt;FREE PUPPIES:&lt;br&gt;1/2 Cocker Spaniel, 1/2 sneaky neighbor&amp;#39;s dog.&lt;p&gt;FREE PUPPIES:&lt;br&gt;Mother, AKC German Shepherd.&lt;br&gt;Father, Super Dog...able to leap tall fences in a single bound.&lt;p&gt;FOUND - DIRTY WHITE DOG.&lt;br&gt;Looks like a rat . Been out a while.&lt;br&gt;Better be a big reward.&lt;p&gt;COWS, CALVES: NEVER BRED.&lt;br&gt;Also 1 gay bull for sale.&lt;p&gt;NORDIC TRACK&lt;br&gt;$300 Hardly used, call Chubby.&lt;p&gt;GEORGIA PEACHES&lt;br&gt;California grown - 89 cents lb.&lt;p&gt;JOINING NUDIST COLONY!&lt;br&gt;Must sell washer and dryer $300.&lt;p&gt;WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE.&lt;br&gt;Worn once by mistake . Call Stephanie.&lt;p&gt;And the best one:&lt;p&gt;FOR SALE BY OWNER:&lt;br&gt;Complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica, 45 volumes. Excellent condition.&lt;br&gt;$1,000 or best offer. No longer needed,     Got married last month.&lt;br&gt;Wife knows everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6320308420401169408?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6320308420401169408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6320308420401169408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6320308420401169408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6320308420401169408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/05/real-classified-ads.html' title='Real Classified Ads'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7655778444170197356</id><published>2008-05-28T12:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T12:25:06.991-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The love story of Ralph and Edna</title><content type='html'>Just because someone doesn&amp;#39;t love you the way you want them to,&lt;br&gt;doesn&amp;#39;t mean they don&amp;#39;t love you with all they have. Ralph and Edna&lt;br&gt;were both patients in a mental hospital.&lt;p&gt;One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool. Ralph&lt;br&gt;suddenly jumped into the deep end.&lt;br&gt;He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there. Edna promptly&lt;br&gt;jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled him out.&lt;br&gt;When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna&amp;#39;s heroic act she&lt;br&gt;immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now&lt;br&gt;considered her to be mentally stable. When she went to tell Edna the&lt;br&gt;news she said, &amp;#39;Edna, I have good news and bad news.&lt;p&gt;The good news is you&amp;#39;re being discharged, since you were able to&lt;br&gt;rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of&lt;br&gt;the person you love. I have concluded that your act displays sound&lt;br&gt;mindedness. The bad news is, Ralph hung himself in the bathroom with&lt;br&gt;his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;dead.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;Edna replied, &amp;#39;He didn&amp;#39;t hang himself, I put him there to dry. How&lt;br&gt;soon can I go home?&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7655778444170197356?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7655778444170197356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7655778444170197356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7655778444170197356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7655778444170197356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/05/love-story-of-ralph-and-edna.html' title='The love story of Ralph and Edna'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8500968432936185269</id><published>2008-05-04T08:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T08:12:45.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE</title><content type='html'>If all of the eight desserts listed below were sitting in front of&lt;br&gt;you, which would you choose (sorry, you can only pick one)! Trust&lt;br&gt;me...this is very accurate. Pick your dessert, and then look to see&lt;br&gt;what psychiatrists think about you.&lt;p&gt;REMEMBER - No Cheating. Make your choice before you check the meaning..&lt;p&gt;After taking this dessert personality test, send this e-mail on to&lt;br&gt;others, but when you do, be sure to put your choice of dessert in the&lt;br&gt;subject box above.&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ALSO, SEND IT TO THE PERSON WHO SENT IT TO YOU. DON&amp;#39;T FORGET TO CHANGE&lt;br&gt;YOUR DESSERT CHOICE IN THE SUBJECT BOX BEFORE YOU FORWARD IT.&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are your choices:&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;1. Angel Food Cake&lt;br&gt;2. Brownies&lt;br&gt;3. Lemon Meringue Pie&lt;br&gt;4. Vanilla Cake With Chocolate Icing&lt;br&gt;5. Strawberry Short Cake&lt;br&gt;6. Chocolate Cake With Chocolate Icing&lt;br&gt;7. Ice Cream&lt;br&gt;8. Carrot Cake&lt;p&gt;No, you can&amp;#39;t change your mind once you scroll down, so think&lt;br&gt;carefully about what your choice will be.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;---------&lt;p&gt;OK - Now that you&amp;#39;ve made your choice, this is what the researchers&lt;br&gt;say about you... SCROLL DOWN---No Cheating&lt;p&gt;1. ANGEL FOOD CAKE -- Sweet, loving, cuddly. You love all warm and&lt;br&gt;fuzzy items. A little nutty at times. Sometimes you need an ice cream&lt;br&gt;cone at the end of the day. Others perceive you as being childlike and&lt;br&gt;immature at times.&lt;p&gt;2. BROWNIES -- You are adventurous, love new ideas, and are a champion&lt;br&gt;of underdogs and a slayer of dragons. When tempers flare up you whip&lt;br&gt;out your saber. Yo u are always the odd ball with a unique sense of&lt;br&gt;humor and direction. You tend to be very loyal.&lt;p&gt;3. LEMON MERINGUE -- Smooth, sexy, &amp;amp; articulate with your hands, you&lt;br&gt;are an excellent caregiver and a good teacher. But don&amp;#39;t try to walk&lt;br&gt;and chew gum at the same time. A bit of a diva at times, you set your&lt;br&gt;own style because you do your own thing. You shine when it comes to&lt;br&gt;helping others and have many friends.&lt;p&gt;4. VANILLA CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE ICING -- Fun-loving, sassy, humorous,&lt;br&gt;not very grounded in life; very indecisive and lacking motivation.&lt;br&gt;Everyone enjoys being around you, but you are a practical joker.&lt;br&gt;Others should be cautious in making you mad. However, you are a friend&lt;br&gt;for life.&lt;p&gt;5. STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE -- Romantic, warm, loving. You care about&lt;br&gt;other people, can be counted on in a pinch and expect the same in&lt;br&gt;return. Intuitively keen. You c an be very emotional l at times but a&lt;br&gt;true person in every way. You like to do things for yourself and help&lt;br&gt;others learn about themselves.&lt;p&gt;6. CHOCOLATE CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE ICING -- Sexy; always ready to give&lt;br&gt;and receive. Very creative, adventurous, ambitious, and passionate.&lt;br&gt;You can appear to have a cold exterior but are warm on the inside. Not&lt;br&gt;afraid to take chances. Will not settle for anything average in life.&lt;br&gt;Love to laugh.&lt;p&gt;7. ICE CREAM -- You like sports, whether it be baseball, football,&lt;br&gt;basketball, or soccer. If you could, you would like to participate,&lt;br&gt;but you enjoy watching sports. You don&amp;#39;t like to give up the remote&lt;br&gt;control. You tend to be self-centered and high maintenance.&lt;p&gt;8. CARROT CAKE -- You are a very fun loving person, who likes to&lt;br&gt;laugh. You are fun to be with. People like to hang out with you. You&lt;br&gt;are a very warm hearted person an d a little e quirky at times. You&lt;br&gt;have many loyal friends. You were meant to lead and teach others A&lt;br&gt;wonderful role model.&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you cope-n-paste this into an email please put your choice in the&lt;br&gt;subject line.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8500968432936185269?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8500968432936185269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8500968432936185269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8500968432936185269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8500968432936185269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/05/strawberry-shortcake.html' title='STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-9201462418275215995</id><published>2008-05-01T07:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T07:36:51.424-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten things to remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 10- Life is sexually transmitted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 9- Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 8- Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 7- Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 6- Some people are like a Slinky ... not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you shove them down the stairs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 5- Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 4- All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 3- A slight tax increase will cost you $200.00 yet a substantial tax cut only saves you 30¢.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;Number 2 - In the 60s, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(72, 11, 10); "&gt;AND THE NUMBER 1- Life is like a jar of jalapenos. What you do today, might burn your ass tomorrow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" color="#480B0A"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-9201462418275215995?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/9201462418275215995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=9201462418275215995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/9201462418275215995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/9201462418275215995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/05/ten-things-to-remember.html' title='Ten things to remember'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8134737345284862830</id><published>2008-04-22T09:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T09:26:28.018-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Garter Snakes</title><content type='html'>Garden Grass Snakes also known as Garter Snakes (Thamnophissirtalis)&lt;br&gt;can be dangerous. Yes, grass snakes, not rattlesnakes. Here&amp;#39;s why.&lt;p&gt;A couple in Sweetwater, Texas had a lot of potted plants. During a&lt;br&gt;recent cold spell, the  wife was bringing a lot of them indoors to&lt;br&gt;protect them from a possible freeze.&lt;p&gt;It turned out that a little green garden grass snake was hidden in one&lt;br&gt;of the plants. When it had warmed up, it slithered out and the wife&lt;br&gt;saw it go under the sofa.&lt;p&gt;She let out a very loud scream. The husband (who was taking a shower)&lt;br&gt;ran out into the living room naked to see what the problem was. She&lt;br&gt;told him there was a snake under the sofa.&lt;p&gt;He got down on the floor on his hands and knees to look for it. About&lt;br&gt;that time the family dog came and cold-nosed him on the behind. He&lt;br&gt;thought the snake had bitten him, so he screamed and fell over on the&lt;br&gt;floor. His wife thought he had had a heart attack, so she covered him&lt;br&gt;up, told him to lie still and called an ambulance. The attendants&lt;br&gt;rushed in, would not listen to his protests, loaded him on the&lt;br&gt;stretcher, and started carrying him out. About that time, the snake&lt;br&gt;came out from under the sofa and the Emergency Medical&lt;p&gt;Technician saw it and dropped his end of the stretcher. That&amp;#39;s when&lt;br&gt;the man broke his leg and why he is still in the hospital.&lt;p&gt;The wife still had the problem of the snake in the house, so she&lt;br&gt;called on a neighbor who volunteered to capture the snake. He armed&lt;br&gt;himself with a rolled-up newspaper and began poking under the couch.&lt;br&gt;Soon he decided it was gone and told the woman, who sat down on the&lt;br&gt;sofa in relief. But while relaxing, her hand dangled in between the&lt;br&gt;cushions, where she felt the snake wriggling around. She screamed and&lt;br&gt;fainted, the snake rushed back under the sofa.&lt;p&gt;The neighbor man, seeing her lying there passed out, tried to use CPR&lt;br&gt;to revive her.&lt;p&gt;The neighbor&amp;#39;s wife, who had just returned from shopping at the&lt;br&gt;grocery store, saw her husband&amp;#39;s mouth on the woman&amp;#39;s mouth and&lt;br&gt;slammed her husband in the back of the head with a bag of canned&lt;br&gt;goods, knocking him out and cutting his scalp to a point where it&lt;br&gt;needed stitches.&lt;p&gt;The noise woke the woman from her dead faint and she saw her neighbor&lt;br&gt;lying on the floor with his wife bending over him, so she assumed that&lt;br&gt;the snake had bitten him. She went to the kitchen and got a small&lt;br&gt;bottle of whiskey, and began pouring it down the man&amp;#39;s throat. By now,&lt;br&gt;the police had arrived.&lt;p&gt;Breathe here......&lt;p&gt;They saw the unconscious man, smelled the whiskey, and assumed that a&lt;br&gt;drunken fight had occurred. They were about to arrest them all, when&lt;br&gt;the women tried to explain how it all happened over a little green&lt;br&gt;snake The police called an ambulance, which took away the neighbor and&lt;br&gt;his sobbing wife.&lt;p&gt;Now, the little snake again crawled out from under the sofa and one of&lt;br&gt;the policemen drew his gun and fired at it. He missed the snake and&lt;br&gt;hit the leg of the end table. The table fell over, the lamp on it&lt;br&gt;shattered and, as the bulb broke, it started a fire in the drapes.&lt;p&gt;The other policeman tried to beat out the flames, and fell through the&lt;br&gt;window into the yard on top of the family dog that, startled, jumped&lt;br&gt;out and raced into the street, where an oncoming car swerved to avoid&lt;br&gt;it and smashed into the parked police car.&lt;p&gt;Meanwhile, neighbors saw the burning drapes and called in the fire&lt;br&gt;department. The firemen had started raising the fire ladder when they&lt;br&gt;were halfway down the street. The rising ladder tore out the overhead&lt;br&gt;wires, put out the neighborhood power, and disconnected the telephones&lt;br&gt;in a ten-square city block area (....but they did get the house fire&lt;br&gt;out).&lt;p&gt;Time passed! Men were discharged from the hospital, the house was&lt;br&gt;repaired, the dog came home, the police acquired a new car and all was&lt;br&gt;right with their world.&lt;p&gt;A while later they were watching TV and again, the weatherman&lt;br&gt;announced a cold snap for that night.&lt;p&gt;The wife asked her husband if he thought they should bring in their&lt;br&gt;plants for the night.&lt;p&gt;And that&amp;#39;s when he shot her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8134737345284862830?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8134737345284862830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8134737345284862830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8134737345284862830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8134737345284862830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/04/garter-snakes.html' title='Garter Snakes'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7948165957195690717</id><published>2008-04-16T11:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T11:28:02.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SCHOOL -- 1957 vs. 2007</title><content type='html'>Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Jack goes quail hunting before school, pulls into school parking lot with shotgun in gun rack.&lt;br&gt;1957 - Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack&amp;#39;s shotgun, goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.&lt;br&gt; 2007 - School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.&lt;br&gt; 1957 - Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.&lt;br&gt;2007 - Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark. Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Jeffrey won&amp;#39;t be still in class, disrupts other students.&lt;br&gt;1957 - Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the Principal. Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.&lt;br&gt;2007 - Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. Tested for ADD. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a disability.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Billy breaks a window in his neighbour&amp;#39;s car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.&lt;br&gt;1957 - Billy is more care! ful next tim e, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.&lt;br&gt; 2007 - Billy&amp;#39;s dad is arrested for child abuse.&amp;nbsp; Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang.&amp;nbsp; State psychologist tells Billy&amp;#39;s sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison.&amp;nbsp; Billy&amp;#39;s mom has affair with psychologist.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.&lt;br&gt;1957 - Mark shares aspirin with Principal out on the smoking dock.&lt;br&gt;2007 - Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Pedro fails high school English.&lt;br&gt;1957 - Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.&lt;br&gt;2007 - Pedro&amp;#39;s cause is taken up by state. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedro&amp;#39;s English teacher.&amp;nbsp; English banned from core curriculum.&amp;nbsp; Pedro given diploma an yway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.&lt;br&gt;1957 - Ants die.&lt;br&gt;2007 - BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with&amp;nbsp; domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated, Johnny&amp;#39;s Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again. &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Scenario:&amp;nbsp; Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary.&amp;nbsp; Mary hugs him to comfort him.&lt;br&gt;1957 - In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.&lt;br&gt; 2007 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy .&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7948165957195690717?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7948165957195690717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7948165957195690717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7948165957195690717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7948165957195690717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/04/school-1957-vs-2007.html' title='SCHOOL -- 1957 vs. 2007'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6348519781864957963</id><published>2008-04-01T20:18:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T20:26:24.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The mouse trap</title><content type='html'>A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.&lt;p&gt;What food might this contain? The mouse wondered - - - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.&lt;p&gt;Retreating to the farmyard,&lt;p&gt;The mouse proclaimed the warning: There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house! &lt;p&gt;The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, Mr.Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it. &lt;p&gt;The mouse turned to the pig and told him - There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house! &lt;p&gt;The pig sympathized, but said, I am so very sorry, Mr.Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers. &lt;p&gt;The mouse turned to the cow and said There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house! &lt;p&gt;The cow said, Wow, Mr. Mouse. I am sorry for you, but it is no skin off my nose. &lt;p&gt;So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face&lt;br&gt;the farmer&amp;#39;s mousetrap . . . alone.&lt;p&gt;That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.&lt;p&gt;The farmer&amp;#39;s wife rushed to see what was caught.   In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.&lt;p&gt;The snake bit the farmer&amp;#39;s wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup&amp;#39;s main ingredient. But his wife&amp;#39;s sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.&lt;p&gt;The farmer&amp;#39;s wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them. The mouse looked upon it all from His crack in the wall with great sadness.&lt;p&gt;So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn&amp;#39;t concern you, remember ---- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;REMEMBER ...&lt;br&gt;Each of us is a vital thread in another person&amp;#39;s tapestry; our lives are woven together for a reason. One of the best things to hold onto in this world is a FRIEND&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6348519781864957963?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6348519781864957963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6348519781864957963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6348519781864957963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6348519781864957963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/04/mouse-trap.html' title='The mouse trap'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8972116962658110294</id><published>2008-03-29T14:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T14:38:22.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A few health tips</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&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; tha t's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&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;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;b&gt;Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&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;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 17.0px Lucida Grande"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&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;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&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;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&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;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Q: Is chocolate bad for me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;A: Are you crazy? HELLO! Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 17px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Q: Is swimming good for your figure?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;A:&amp;nbsp; If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 10px/normal Arial; "&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;And remember:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &amp;nbsp;"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 "WOO HOO, What a Ride"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; AND.....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; For those of you who watch what you eat, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; 1. The Japanese eat very little fat&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; 2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; 3. The Chinese drink very little red wine&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; 4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; 5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; CONCLUSION&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;br&gt; Eat and drink what you like.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 10.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Arial"&gt;Speaking English is apparently what kills you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial" size="5"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8972116962658110294?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8972116962658110294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8972116962658110294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8972116962658110294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8972116962658110294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/03/few-health-tips.html' title='A few health tips'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-95980359043660220</id><published>2008-03-27T14:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T14:41:08.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Walmart Greeter</title><content type='html'>Charley, a new retiree greeter at Wal-Mart, just couldn&amp;#39;t seem to get to work on time.&amp;nbsp; Every day he was 5, 10, sometimes 15 minutes late.&amp;nbsp; But he was a good worker, really tidy, clean-shaven, sharp minded and a real credit to the company and obviously demonstrating their &amp;quot;Older Person Friendly&amp;quot; policies. &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;One day the boss was in a real quandary about how to deal with it.&amp;nbsp; Finally, he called him into the office for a talk. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Charley, I have to tell you, I like your work ethic, you do a bang up job, but your being late so often is quite bothersome.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Yes, I know boss, and I am working on it.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Well good, you are a team player.&amp;nbsp; That&amp;#39;s what I like to hear.&amp;nbsp; It&amp;#39;s odd though; you¢re coming in late.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I know you&amp;#39;re retired from the Armed Forces.&amp;nbsp; What did they say if you came in late there?&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;They said, &amp;#39;Good morning, General. Tea or coffee this morning, sir?&amp;#39;&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-95980359043660220?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/95980359043660220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=95980359043660220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/95980359043660220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/95980359043660220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/03/walmart-greeter.html' title='Walmart Greeter'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1936063058318130453</id><published>2008-03-24T15:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T15:32:09.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'>N.C. Highway</title><content type='html'>A North Carolina Highway Department employee stopped at a farm and talked with an old farmer. He told the farmer, &amp;#39;I need to inspect your farm for a possible new road.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The old farmer said, &amp;#39;OK, but don&amp;#39;t get out in that pasture over there.&amp;#39; The Highway Dept. employee flashed out his identification card and said, &amp;#39;I have the authority of the State of North Carolina to go any where I want. See this card? I will go wherever I wish.&amp;#39; So the old farmer went about his farm chores.&lt;p&gt;It wasn&amp;#39;t too much later and the farmer heard loud screams and yelling. He looked over and saw several Highway Dept. employees running for their lives and right behind was the farmer&amp;#39;s huge prize bull. The bull was madder than a hornet&amp;#39;s nest and was gaining on the employee at every step.&lt;p&gt;The old farmer yelled out, &amp;#39;Show him your card, Smart Ass....Show him your card!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1936063058318130453?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1936063058318130453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1936063058318130453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1936063058318130453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1936063058318130453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/03/nc-highway.html' title='N.C. Highway'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4340008630224742481</id><published>2008-03-07T07:49:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T07:49:56.814-06:00</updated><title type='text'>When Grandma Goes To Court</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); "&gt;Lawyers should never ask a Mississippi grandma a question if they aren't prepared for the answer.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); min-height: 14px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); "&gt;In a trial, a Southern small-town prosecuting attorney called his first witness, a grandmotherly, elderly woman to the stand. He approached her and asked, 'Mrs. Jones, do you know me?' She responded, 'Why, yes, I do know you, Mr. Williams. I've known you since you were a boy, and frankly, you've been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you're a big shot when you haven't the brains to realize you'll never amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #2951a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); "&gt;The lawyer was stunned. Not knowing what else to do, he pointed across the room and asked, 'Mrs. Jones, do you know the defense attorney?'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #2951a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); "&gt;She again replied, 'Why yes, I do. I've known Mr. Bradley since he was a&amp;nbsp;youngster, too. He's lazy, bigoted, and he has a drinking problem. He can't build a normal relationship with anyone, and his law practice is one of the worst in the entire state. Not to mention he cheated on his wife with three different women. One of them was your wife. Yes, I know him.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #2951a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); "&gt;&amp;nbsp;The defense attorney nearly died.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #2951a6"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; color: rgb(41, 81, 166); "&gt;&amp;nbsp;The judge asked both counselors to approach the bench and, in a very quiet voice, said,&amp;nbsp; 'If either of you idiots asks her if she knows me, I'll send you both to the electric&amp;nbsp;chair&amp;nbsp;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4340008630224742481?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4340008630224742481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4340008630224742481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4340008630224742481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4340008630224742481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/03/when-grandma-goes-to-court.html' title='When Grandma Goes To Court'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3408302563584806163</id><published>2008-02-27T14:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T14:43:12.925-06:00</updated><title type='text'>WILL I LIVE TO BE 80?</title><content type='html'>Some times you just have to ask yourself &amp;#39;Will I live to be 80?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;I recently chose a new primary care physician.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;After two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing &amp;#39;fairly well&amp;#39; for my age.&lt;br&gt; A little concerned about that comment, I couldn&amp;#39;t resist asking him,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Do you think I&amp;#39;ll live to be 80?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He asked, &amp;#39;Do you smoke tobacco or drink alcoholic beverages?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;No,&amp;#39; I replied. &amp;#39;I don&amp;#39;t do drugs, either.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;Then he asked, &amp;#39;Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;I said, &amp;#39;No, my other doctor said that all red meat is unhealthy!&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, boating, fishing or relaxing on the beach?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt; &amp;#39;No, I don&amp;#39;t,&amp;#39; I said.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He asked, &amp;#39;Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;No,&amp;#39; I said. &amp;#39;I don&amp;#39;t do any of those things.&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Then he looked at me and asked, &lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Then why do you care?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3408302563584806163?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3408302563584806163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3408302563584806163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3408302563584806163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3408302563584806163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/02/will-i-live-to-be-80.html' title='WILL I LIVE TO BE 80?'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3139729059604502868</id><published>2008-02-25T14:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T14:29:50.471-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So That's Where They Come From!</title><content type='html'>At the end of the tax year the IRS office sent an inspector to audit the books of a Synagogue.&amp;nbsp; While he was checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said, &amp;quot;I&amp;nbsp; notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Good question,&amp;quot; noted the&amp;nbsp; Rabbi. &amp;quot;We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and&amp;nbsp; every now and then they send us a free&amp;nbsp; box of candles.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Oh,&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question&amp;nbsp; had a practical answer. But on he went, in his obnoxious way: &amp;quot;What about all these bread wafer purchases?&amp;nbsp; What do you do with the crumbs?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Ah, yes,&amp;quot; replied the&amp;nbsp; Rabbi, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an&amp;nbsp; unanswerable question. &amp;quot;We collect them and send them back to the manufacturer, and every now and then they send us a free box of bread-wafers. &amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;I see,&amp;quot; replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all Rabbi. &amp;quot;Well, Rabbi,&amp;quot; he went on, &amp;quot;what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Here, too, we do not waste,&amp;quot; answered the Rabbi. &amp;quot; What we do is save all the foreskins and send them to the tax office, and about once a year they send us a complete dick.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3139729059604502868?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3139729059604502868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3139729059604502868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3139729059604502868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3139729059604502868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-thats-where-they-come-from.html' title='So That&apos;s Where They Come From!'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8442244735118268562</id><published>2008-02-23T19:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T19:17:57.039-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Guts &amp; Balls</title><content type='html'>&lt;SPAN style='FONT-SIZE: 10pt; FONT-FAMILY: Arial; FONT-WEIGHT:Normal;'&gt;GUTS AND BALLS: We've all heard about people having guts or balls; but do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definition for each is listed below.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;GUTS - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: 'Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;BALLS - is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the balls to say: You're next, fatty!'&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome, since both ultimately result in death.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8442244735118268562?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8442244735118268562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8442244735118268562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8442244735118268562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8442244735118268562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/02/guts-balls.html' title='Guts &amp; Balls'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3368436227217596309</id><published>2008-02-22T13:11:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T13:11:21.858-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation with Jesus</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Many times when I am troubled or confused, I find comfort in sitting in my back yard and having a Jack Daniel&amp;#39;s on the rocks, along with a quiet&lt;br&gt;conversation with Jesus. This happened to me again after a particularly difficult day.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;I said, &amp;quot;Jesus, why do I work so hard?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And I heard the reply: &amp;quot;Men find many ways to demonstrate the love they have for their family. You work hard to have a peaceful, beautiful place for&lt;br&gt;your friends and family to gather.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;I said: &amp;quot;I thought that money was the root of all evil.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And the reply was: &amp;quot;No, the LOVE of money is the root of all evil. Money is a tool, and it can be used for good or bad.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I was starting to feel better, but I still had that one burning question, so I asked it. &amp;quot;Jesus,&amp;quot; I said, &amp;quot;What is the meaning of life? Why am I&lt;br&gt; here?&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;He replied: &amp;quot;That is a question many men ask. The answer is in your heart and is different for everyone. I would love to chat with you some more, Senor, but for now, I have to finish your lawn.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3368436227217596309?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3368436227217596309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3368436227217596309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3368436227217596309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3368436227217596309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/02/conversation-with-jesus.html' title='A conversation with Jesus'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4479316311792423632</id><published>2008-02-14T12:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T12:43:53.779-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hymn  #365</title><content type='html'>This is a hoot, but I  suspect the minister didn&amp;#39;t appreciate it. &lt;p&gt;A minister was completing a  temperance sermon. With great emphasis he said, &amp;quot;If I had all the  beer in the world, I&amp;#39;d take it and pour it into the river.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;With even greater  emphasis he said, &amp;quot;And if I had All the wine in the world, I&amp;#39;d take it and pour it into the  river.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;And then finally,  shaking his fist in the air, he Said, &amp;quot;And if I had all  the whiskey in the world, I&amp;#39;d take it and pour it into the  river.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;Sermon  complete, he sat down. &lt;p&gt;The song leader stood  very cautiously and announced With a smile, nearly laughing, &amp;quot;For our closing  song, Let us sing Hymn #365, &amp;quot;Shall We  Gather at the River.&amp;quot; &lt;p&gt;See  you at the river.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4479316311792423632?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4479316311792423632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4479316311792423632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4479316311792423632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4479316311792423632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/02/hymn-365.html' title='Hymn  #365'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1614775644961517995</id><published>2008-02-11T21:13:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T21:13:26.298-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the funeral</title><content type='html'>This does not apply to my in-laws, of course, but is funny&lt;br&gt;nevertheless.   RHR -- KJM&lt;p&gt;A man was leaving a convenience store with his morning coffee when he&lt;br&gt;noticed a most unusual funeral procession approaching the nearby&lt;br&gt;cemetery.&lt;p&gt;A long black hearse was followed by a second long black hearse about&lt;br&gt;50 feet behind the first one. Behind the second hearse was a solitary&lt;br&gt;man walking a dog on a leash.Behind him, a short distance back, were&lt;br&gt;about 200 men walking single file.&lt;p&gt;The man couldn&amp;#39;t stand the curiosity. He respectfully approached the&lt;br&gt;man walking the dog and said, &amp;quot;I am so sorry for your loss, and I know&lt;br&gt;now is a bad time to disturb you, but I&amp;#39;v e never seen a funeral like&lt;br&gt;this. Whose funeral is it?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;My wife&amp;#39;s.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;What happened to her?&amp;quot;The man replied, &amp;quot;My dog attacked&lt;br&gt;and killed her. &amp;quot;He inquired further, &amp;quot;But, who is in the second&lt;br&gt;hearse?&amp;quot;The man answered, &amp;quot;My mother-in-law. She was trying to help my&lt;br&gt;wife when the dog turned on her.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;A poignant and thoughtful moment of silence passed between the two&lt;br&gt;men. &amp;quot;Can I borrow the dog?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Get in line.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1614775644961517995?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1614775644961517995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1614775644961517995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1614775644961517995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1614775644961517995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/02/funeral.html' title='the funeral'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8756023843623210961</id><published>2008-01-10T07:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T07:46:58.033-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Golf</title><content type='html'>Four guys who worked together always golfed as a group at 7:00 a.m. on&lt;br&gt;Sunday. Unfortunately, one of them got transferred out of town and&lt;br&gt;they were talking about trying to fill out the foursome. A woman&lt;br&gt;standing near the tee said, &amp;quot;Hey, I like to golf, can I join the&lt;br&gt;group?&amp;quot; They were hesitant, but said she could come once to try it and&lt;br&gt;they could see what they thought.&lt;p&gt;They all agreed and she said, &amp;quot;Good, I&amp;#39;ll be there at 6:30 or 6:45.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;She showed up right at 6:30, and wound up setting a course record with&lt;br&gt;a 7-under par round. The guys went nuts and everyone in the clubhouse&lt;br&gt;congratulated her.&lt;p&gt;Meanwhile, she was fun and pleasant the entire round. The guys happily&lt;br&gt;invited her back the next week and she said, &amp;quot;Sure, I&amp;#39;ll be here at&lt;br&gt;6:30 or 6:45.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Again, she showed up at 6:30 Sunday morning. Only this time, she&lt;br&gt;played left-handed, and matched her 7-under par score of the previous&lt;br&gt;week. By now the guys were totally amazed, and they asked her to join&lt;br&gt;the group for keeps. They had a beer after their round, and one of the&lt;br&gt;guys asked her, &amp;quot;How do you decide if you&amp;#39;re going to golf&lt;br&gt;right-handed or left-handed?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;She said, &amp;quot;That&amp;#39;s easy. Before I leave for the golf course, I pull the&lt;br&gt;covers off my husband, who sleeps in the nude. If his member is&lt;br&gt;pointing to the right, I golf right-handed; if it&amp;#39;s pointed to the&lt;br&gt;left, golf left-handed.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;One of the guys asked, &amp;quot;What if it&amp;#39;s pointed straight up?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;She said, &amp;quot;Then I&amp;#39;ll be here at 6:45.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8756023843623210961?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8756023843623210961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8756023843623210961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8756023843623210961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8756023843623210961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2008/01/golf.html' title='Golf'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6502702554531858747</id><published>2007-12-05T09:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T09:21:39.259-06:00</updated><title type='text'>JUST ARRIVED, *NEW BUMPER STICKERS FOR 07</title><content type='html'>*1. Bush: End of an Error *&lt;br&gt;*2. That&amp;#39;s OK, I Wasn&amp;#39;t Using My Civil Liberties Anyway *&lt;br&gt;*3. Let&amp;#39;s Fix Democracy in this Country First *&lt;br&gt;*4. If You Want a Nation Ruled By Religion, Move to **Iran** *&lt;br&gt;*5. Bush. Like a Rock. Only Dumber. *&lt;br&gt;*6. If You Can Read This, You&amp;#39;re Not Our President *&lt;br&gt;*7. Of Course It Hurts: You&amp;#39;re Getting Screwed by an Elephant! *&lt;br&gt;*8. Hey, Bush Supporters: Embarrassed Yet? *&lt;br&gt;*9. George Bush: Creating the Terrorists Our Kids Will Have to Fight *&lt;br&gt;*10. Impeachment: It&amp;#39;s Not Just for Blow Jobs Anymore *&lt;br&gt;*11. **America**: One Nation, Under Surveillance *&lt;br&gt;*12. They Call Him &amp;quot;W&amp;quot; So He Can Spell It *&lt;br&gt;*13. Whose God Do You Kill For? *&lt;br&gt;*14. Jail to the Chief *&lt;br&gt;*15. No, Seriously, Why Did We Invade **Iraq**? *&lt;br&gt;*16. Bush: God&amp;#39;s Way of Proving Intelligent Design is Full Of Crap *&lt;br&gt;*17. Bad President! No Banana. *&lt;br&gt;*18. We Need a President Who&amp;#39;s Fluent In At Least One Language *&lt;br&gt;*19. We&amp;#39;re Making Enemies Faster Than We Can Kill Them *&lt;br&gt;*20. Is It **Vietnam** Yet? *&lt;br&gt;*21. Bush Doesn&amp;#39;t Care About White People, Either *&lt;br&gt;*22. Where Are We Going? And Why Are We In This Handbasket? *&lt;br&gt;*23. You Elected Him. You Deserve Him. *&lt;br&gt;*24. When Bush Took Office, Gas Was $1.46 *&lt;br&gt;*25. Pray For Impeachment *&lt;br&gt;*26. The Republican Party: Our Bridge to the 11th Century *&lt;br&gt;*27. What Part of &amp;quot;Bush Lied&amp;quot; Don&amp;#39;t You Understand? *&lt;br&gt;*28. One Nation Under Clod *&lt;br&gt;*29. 2004: Embarrassed. 2005: Horrified. 2006: Terrified *&lt;br&gt;*30. Bush Never Exhaled *&lt;br&gt;*31 At Least Nixon Resigned*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6502702554531858747?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6502702554531858747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6502702554531858747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6502702554531858747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6502702554531858747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/12/just-arrived-new-bumper-stickers-for-07.html' title='JUST ARRIVED, *NEW BUMPER STICKERS FOR 07'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6128877419164499865</id><published>2007-11-19T21:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T21:48:23.945-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Funniest Staff Meeting Ever!</title><content type='html'>The boss of a Madison Avenue advertising agency called a spontaneous  &lt;br&gt;staff meeting in the middle of a particularly stressful week. (This is  &lt;br&gt;one pretty sharp boss!) When everyone gathered, the boss, who  &lt;br&gt;understood the benefits of having fun, told the burnt-out staff the  &lt;br&gt;purpose of the meeting was to have a quick contest. The theme: Viagra  &lt;br&gt;advertising slogans.&lt;p&gt;The only rule was they had to use past ad slogans, originally written  &lt;br&gt;for other products, that captured the essence of Viagra. Slight  &lt;br&gt;variations were acceptable.&lt;p&gt;About 7 minutes later, they turned in their suggestions and created a  &lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;Top 10 List.&amp;#39; With all the laughter and camaraderie, the rest of the  &lt;br&gt;week went very well for every one!&lt;p&gt;The top 10 were:&lt;p&gt;10. Viagra, Whaazzzz up!&lt;p&gt;9. Viagra, the quicker pecker picker upper.&lt;p&gt;8. Viagra, like a rock!&lt;p&gt;7. Viagra, When it absolutely, positively has to be&lt;br&gt;there overnight.&lt;p&gt;6. Viagra, Be all that you can be.&lt;p&gt;5. Viagra, Reach out and touch someone.&lt;p&gt;4. Viagra, Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.&lt;p&gt;3. Viagra, Home of the whopper!&lt;p&gt;2. Viagra, We bring good things to Life!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;And the unanimous number one slogan:&lt;p&gt;1. This is your pee pee. This is your pee pee on drugs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6128877419164499865?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6128877419164499865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6128877419164499865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6128877419164499865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6128877419164499865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/11/funniest-staff-meeting-ever.html' title='The Funniest Staff Meeting Ever!'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-84250663138535067</id><published>2007-11-06T08:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T08:55:53.699-06:00</updated><title type='text'>AAADD- KNOW THE SYMPTOMS</title><content type='html'>Recently, I was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention&lt;br&gt;Deficit Disorder. This is how it manifests:&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I&lt;br&gt;look over at my car and decide it needs washing. As I start toward the&lt;br&gt;garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the&lt;br&gt;mail box earlier.&lt;p&gt;I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car. I lay my car&lt;br&gt;keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the&lt;br&gt;table, and notice that the can is full. So, I decide to put the bills&lt;br&gt;back on the table and take out the garbage first.&lt;p&gt;But then I think, since I&amp;#39;m going to be near the mailbox when I take&lt;br&gt;out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first. I take my&lt;br&gt;check book off the table, and see that there is only one check left.&lt;p&gt;My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house&lt;br&gt;to my desk where I find the can of Coke I&amp;#39;d been drinking. The Coke is&lt;br&gt;getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it&lt;br&gt;cold.&lt;p&gt;As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the&lt;br&gt;counter catches my eye--they need water.&lt;p&gt;I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve been searching for all morning. I decide I better put them back&lt;br&gt;on my desk, but first I&amp;#39;m going to water the flowers.&lt;p&gt;I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with&lt;br&gt;water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone (was it me?) left it on&lt;br&gt;the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I&amp;#39;ll&lt;br&gt;be looking for the remote, but I won&amp;#39;t remember that it&amp;#39;s on the&lt;br&gt;kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs,&lt;br&gt;but first I&amp;#39;ll water the flowers.&lt;p&gt;I pour some water in the flowers, but also spill some on the floor.&lt;br&gt;So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up&lt;br&gt;the spill.&lt;p&gt;Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.&lt;p&gt;At the end of the day:&lt;br&gt;  - the car isn&amp;#39;t washed,&lt;br&gt;  - the bills aren&amp;#39;t paid,&lt;br&gt;  - there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter,&lt;br&gt;  - the flowers don&amp;#39;t have enough water,&lt;br&gt;  - there is still only 1 check in my check book,&lt;br&gt;  - I can&amp;#39;t find the remote,&lt;br&gt;  - I can&amp;#39;t find my glasses,&lt;br&gt;  - and I don&amp;#39;t remember what I did with the car keys.&lt;p&gt;Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today - I&amp;#39;m really&lt;br&gt;baffled because I know I was busy all damn day, and I&amp;#39;m really tired.&lt;p&gt;I realize this is a serious problem, and I&amp;#39;ll try to get some help for&lt;br&gt;it, but first I&amp;#39;ll check my e-mail....&lt;p&gt;Do me a favor - Forward this message to everyone you know, because I&lt;br&gt;don&amp;#39;t remember who the hell I&amp;#39;ve sent it to.&lt;p&gt;Don&amp;#39;t laugh -- if this isn&amp;#39;t you yet, your day is coming!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-84250663138535067?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/84250663138535067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=84250663138535067' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/84250663138535067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/84250663138535067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/11/aaadd-know-symptoms.html' title='AAADD- KNOW THE SYMPTOMS'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-383862241159673369</id><published>2007-10-11T09:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T09:43:42.985-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings from Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>A very loud, very unattractive,  mean-acting woman walked into&lt;br&gt;Wal-Mart  with her two kids, yelling obscenities at  them all the way&lt;br&gt;through the entrance.&lt;p&gt;The Wal-Mart Greeter said pleasantly &amp;#39;Good  morning, and welcome to&lt;br&gt;Wal-Mart. Nice children you have there. Are  they twins?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The ugly woman stopped yelling long enough  to say, &amp;#39;Hell no they&lt;br&gt;ain&amp;#39;t. The oldest one&amp;#39;s 9 and the other one&amp;#39;s 7.  Why the hell would&lt;br&gt;you think they&amp;#39;re twins? Are you blind, or just  stupid?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;I&amp;#39;m neither blind nor stupid, Ma&amp;#39;am,&amp;#39;  replied the greeter. &amp;#39;I just&lt;br&gt;couldn&amp;#39;t believe you got laid twice. Have a  good day and thank you&lt;br&gt;for shopping at Wal-Mart.&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-383862241159673369?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/383862241159673369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=383862241159673369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/383862241159673369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/383862241159673369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/greetings-from-wal-mart.html' title='Greetings from Wal-Mart'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4627538980988427710</id><published>2007-10-09T23:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T23:16:58.634-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypnotist at Senior Center</title><content type='html'>It was entertainment night at the senior center, and the Amazing&lt;br&gt;Claude was topping the bill. People came from miles around to see the&lt;br&gt;famed hypnotist do his stuff.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;As Claude went to the front of the meeting room, he announced, &amp;quot;Unlike&lt;br&gt;most hypnotists who invite two or three people up here to be put into&lt;br&gt;a trance, I intend to hypnotize each and every member of the&lt;br&gt;audience.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The excitement was almost electric as Claude withdrew a beautiful&lt;br&gt;antique pocket watch from his coat. &amp;quot;I want each one of you to keep&lt;br&gt;your eye on this antique watch. It&amp;#39;s a very special watch. It&amp;#39;s been&lt;br&gt;in my family for six generations.&amp;quot; He began to swing the watch gently&lt;br&gt;back and forth while quietly chanting, &amp;quot;Watch the watch, watch the&lt;br&gt;watch, watch the watch...&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;The crowd was mesmerized as the watch swayed back and forth, light&lt;br&gt;gleaming off its polished surface. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed&lt;br&gt;the swaying watch until suddenly it slipped from the hypnotist&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;fingers and fell to the floor, breaking into a hundred pieces...&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;SHIT!&amp;quot; said the hypnotist!&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;It took three days to clean up the senior center.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4627538980988427710?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4627538980988427710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4627538980988427710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4627538980988427710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4627538980988427710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/hypnotist-at-senior-center.html' title='Hypnotist at Senior Center'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-5404737040049058587</id><published>2007-10-09T11:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T11:02:44.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Duck &amp; Window</title><content type='html'>There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was&lt;br&gt;given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the&lt;br&gt;woods; but he could never hit the target. Getting a little&lt;br&gt;discouraged, he headed back for dinner. As he was walking back he saw&lt;br&gt;Grandma&amp;#39;s pet duck.  Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly,&lt;br&gt;hit the duck square in the head and killed it. He was shocked and&lt;br&gt;grieved!&lt;p&gt;In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile; only to see his&lt;br&gt;sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.&lt;p&gt;After lunch the next day Grandma said, &amp;quot;Sally, let&amp;#39;s wash the dishes&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;But Sally said, &amp;quot;Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the&lt;br&gt;kitchen.&amp;quot;  Then she whispered to him, &amp;quot;Remember the duck?&amp;quot; So Johnny&lt;br&gt;did the dishes.&lt;p&gt;Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and&lt;br&gt;Grandma said, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m sorry but I need Sally to help make supper.&amp;quot; Sally&lt;br&gt;just smiled and said, &amp;quot;Well that&amp;#39;s all right because Johnny told me he&lt;br&gt;wanted to help&amp;quot; She whispered again, &amp;quot;Remember the duck?&amp;quot; So Sally&lt;br&gt;went fishing and Johnny stayed to help&lt;p&gt;After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally&amp;#39;s; he&lt;br&gt;finally couldn&amp;#39;t stand it any longer.  He came to Grandma and&lt;br&gt;confessed that he had killed the duck.&lt;p&gt;Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, &amp;quot;Sweetheart, I know. You&lt;br&gt;see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but&lt;br&gt;because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you&lt;br&gt;would let Sally make a slave of you.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Thought for the day and every day thereafter? Whatever is in your&lt;br&gt;past, whatever you have done...  and the devil keeps throwing it up in&lt;br&gt;your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger,&lt;br&gt;bitterness, etc.)...whatever it is...You need to know that God was&lt;br&gt;standing at the window and He saw the whole thing. He has seen your&lt;br&gt;whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are&lt;br&gt;forgiven.&lt;p&gt;He&amp;#39;s just wondering how long you will let the devil  make a slave of&lt;br&gt;you.  The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness;&lt;br&gt;He not only forgives you, but He forgets. It is by God&amp;#39;s grace and&lt;br&gt;mercy that we are saved.&lt;p&gt;Go ahead and make the difference in someone&amp;#39;s life today. Share this&lt;br&gt;with a friend and always remember: God is at the window!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-5404737040049058587?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/5404737040049058587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=5404737040049058587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5404737040049058587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5404737040049058587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/duck-window.html' title='Duck &amp; Window'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-3134345320701305852</id><published>2007-10-08T08:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T08:13:44.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wife Knows Best</title><content type='html'>One day a man and his wife were walking around the mall when they came&lt;br&gt;across one of those penny scales that tells your fortune and weight.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Well,&amp;quot; says his wife, &amp;quot;go ahead.&amp;quot; He chuckles to himself and figures,&lt;br&gt;why not? He drops in a coin and eagerly reads the results.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Listen to this,&amp;quot; he said to his wife, showing her a small, white&lt;br&gt;card. &amp;quot;It says I&amp;#39;m energetic, bright, resourceful, and an absolutely&lt;br&gt;great lover!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Yeah,&amp;quot; his wife nodded, &amp;quot;and it has your weight wrong too!&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-3134345320701305852?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/3134345320701305852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=3134345320701305852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3134345320701305852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/3134345320701305852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/wife-knows-best.html' title='Wife Knows Best'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-5960359214941053739</id><published>2007-10-06T16:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T16:33:06.502-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Men Are Not Allowed to Write Advice Columns</title><content type='html'>Why Men Are Not Allowed to Write Advice Columns &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Walter&amp;#39;s Problem Page  &lt;p&gt;Dear Walter: &lt;p&gt;I hope you can help me here.  The other day I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual.  I hadn&amp;#39;t gone more than a few hundred yards down the road when my engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband&amp;#39;s help. &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I got home I couldn&amp;#39;t believe my eyes.  He was parading in front of the wardrobe mirror dressed in my underwear and high-heel shoes, and he was wearing my make up. &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am 32, my husband is 34 and we have been married for twelve years.   When I confronted him, he tried to make out that he had dressed in my lingerie because he couldn&amp;#39;t find his own underwear.  But when I asked him about the make up, he broke down and admitted that he&amp;#39;d been wearing my clothes for six months.  I told him to stop or I would leave him. &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.  I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly distant.  I don&amp;#39;t feel I can get through to him anymore.  Can you please help? &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sincerely, &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mrs. Sheila Usk&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dear Sheila:&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line.  If it is clear, check the jubilee clips holding the vacuum pipes onto the inlet manifold.  If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the carburetor float chamber.  I hope this helps. &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Walter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-5960359214941053739?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/5960359214941053739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=5960359214941053739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5960359214941053739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5960359214941053739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/why-men-are-not-allowed-to-write-advice.html' title='Why Men Are Not Allowed to Write Advice Columns'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-209763715094657875</id><published>2007-10-04T15:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T15:43:34.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>English Lesson</title><content type='html'>An English professor wrote these words, &amp;quot;A woman without her man is&lt;br&gt;nothing&amp;quot; on the chalkboard and asked his students to punctuate it&lt;br&gt;correctly.&lt;p&gt;All of the males in the class wrote:  &amp;quot;A woman, without her man, is nothing.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;All the females in the class wrote:  &amp;quot;A woman: without her, man is nothing.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Punctuation is everything&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-209763715094657875?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/209763715094657875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=209763715094657875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/209763715094657875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/209763715094657875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/english-lesson.html' title='English Lesson'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-545605282679396418</id><published>2007-10-04T15:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T15:37:25.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mealtime</title><content type='html'>A woman asks her husband, &amp;quot;Would you like some bacon and eggs? A slice&lt;br&gt;of toast and maybe some grapefruit and coffee?&amp;quot; she asks. He declines.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Thanks&lt;br&gt;for asking, but I&amp;#39;m not hungry right now. It&amp;#39;s this Viagra,&amp;quot; He says.&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;It&amp;#39;s really taken the edge off my appetite.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;At lunchtime, she asked if he would like something. &amp;quot;A bowl of&lt;br&gt;soup,homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?&amp;quot; He declines. &amp;quot;The&lt;br&gt;Viagra,&amp;quot; he says, &amp;quot;really&lt;br&gt;trashes my desire for food.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Come dinnertime, she asks if he wants anything to eat. &amp;quot;Would you like&lt;br&gt;a juicy porterhouse steak and scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a&lt;br&gt;rotisserie&lt;br&gt;chicken?&amp;quot; He declines again. &amp;quot;Naw, still not hungry.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Well,&amp;quot; she says, &amp;quot;would you mind letting me up? I&amp;#39;m starving&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-545605282679396418?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/545605282679396418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=545605282679396418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/545605282679396418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/545605282679396418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/mealtime.html' title='Mealtime'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8185481065539566313</id><published>2007-10-04T15:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T15:34:30.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Divorce vs Murder</title><content type='html'>A nice, calm and respectable lady went into the pharmacy, walked up to&lt;br&gt;the pharmacist, looked straight into his eyes,and said, &amp;#39;I would like&lt;br&gt;to buy some cyanide.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The pharmacist asked, &amp;#39;Why in the world do you need cyanide?&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The lady replied, &amp;#39;I need it to poison my husband.&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The pharmacist&amp;#39;s eyes got big and he exclaimed, &amp;#39;Lord have mercy! I&lt;br&gt;can&amp;#39;t give you cyanide to kill your husband. That&amp;#39;s against the law!&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ll lose my license! They&amp;#39;ll throw both of us in jail! All kinds of&lt;br&gt;bad things will happen. Absolutely not! You CANNOT have any cyanide!&amp;#39;&lt;p&gt;The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of her&lt;br&gt;husband in bed with the pharmacist&amp;#39;s wife.&lt;p&gt;The pharmacist looked at the picture and replied, &amp;#39;Well now, that&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;different. You didn&amp;#39;t tell me you had a prescription.&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8185481065539566313?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8185481065539566313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8185481065539566313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8185481065539566313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8185481065539566313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/10/divorce-vs-murder.html' title='Divorce vs Murder'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7341718248479727526</id><published>2007-09-28T08:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T08:46:15.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Cramps</title><content type='html'>Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever,"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;--Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss USA contest.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;``````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff."                    &amp;nbs p;             &lt;br /&gt;--Mariah Carey&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;````````````      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life,"&lt;br /&gt;--Brooke Shields, during an interview to become Spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;`````````````````````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body,"    &lt;br /&gt;--Winston Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;`````````````````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country,"&lt;br /&gt;--Mayor Marion Barry, Washington, DC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;`````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not going to have some reporters pawing through our papers. We are the president."&lt;br /&gt;--Hillary Clinton commenting on the release of subpoenaed documents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;````````````````````````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass, and I'm just the one to do it,"&lt;br /&gt;--A congressional candidate in Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Half this game is ninety percent mental."&lt;br /&gt;--Philadelphia Phillies manager, Danny Ozark&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;``````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it."&lt;br /&gt;--Al Gore, Vice President&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;```````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoen ix."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Dan Quayle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;``````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?"&lt;br /&gt;--Lee Iacocca&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;```````````&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;"The word "genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Joe Theisman, NFL football quarterback &amp; sports analyst.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;````````````````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply exclude certain types of people."&lt;br /&gt;--Colonel Gerald Wellman, ROTC Instructor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;`````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure."&lt;br /&gt;--Bill Clinton, President&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;``````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are ready for an unforeseen event that may or may not occur."&lt;br /&gt;--Al Gore, VP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Traditionally, most of Australia's imports come from overseas."&lt;br /&gt;--Keppel Enderbery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances."&lt;br /&gt;--Department of Social Services, Greenville, South Carolina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;````````````````````````````````````````````&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record."&lt;br /&gt;--Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling smarter yet? &lt;br /&gt;Send it on to your brilliant friends. I just did!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7341718248479727526?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7341718248479727526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7341718248479727526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7341718248479727526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7341718248479727526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/09/brain-cramps.html' title='Brain Cramps'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7824765682248252173</id><published>2007-09-27T10:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T10:48:48.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Always follow the recipe</title><content type='html'>A man is showering up in a locker room with his buddy when he notices&lt;br&gt;his friend is very well endowed.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Damn Bob, you&amp;#39;re hung!&amp;quot; Jim exclaims.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;I wasn&amp;#39;t always this impressive, I had to work for it.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;What do you mean?&amp;quot; Jim asked.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Well, every day for the past two years I&amp;#39;ve spent an hour each night&lt;br&gt;rubbing it with butter. I know it sounds crazy but it actually made it&lt;br&gt;grow 4 inches! You should try it.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Jim agrees and the two say good bye.&lt;p&gt;A few months later the two are in the same locker room and Bob asks&lt;br&gt;Jim how his situation was.&lt;p&gt;Jim replied, &amp;quot;I did what you said, Bob, but I&amp;#39;ve actually gotten&lt;br&gt;smaller! I lost two inches already!&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Did you do everything I told you? An hour each day with butter?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Well, I was out of butter, so I&amp;#39;ve been using Crisco.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Wait for it .&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Wait .&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Crisco!!?&amp;quot; Bob exclaimed. &amp;quot;Damm it, Jim, Crisco is shortening !&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;MORAL: Always follow the recipe!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7824765682248252173?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7824765682248252173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7824765682248252173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7824765682248252173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7824765682248252173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/09/always-follow-recipe.html' title='Always follow the recipe'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1859519851537283386</id><published>2007-09-18T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T21:44:48.294-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Football Season Yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;Three football fans were out for a ride when one noticed a foot&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;sticking out of the bushes by the side of the road.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;They stopped and discovered a nude female, passed out drunk.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;Out of respect and propriety, the Duke fan took off his cap and&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;placed it over her right breast.  The Wake Forest  fan took off his cap and placed it over her left breast.  Following their lead, but with some "grumbling", the Carolina fan took off his cap and placed it over her girly part.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 13px/normal Courier New; min-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;The police were called and when the first officer arrived, he conducted his investigation.  First he lifted up the Duke cap, replaced it and wrote down some notes.  Next, he lifted the Wake Forest cap and replaced it, writing down some more notes.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt;  &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;The officer then lifted the Carolina cap, replaced it, then lifted it again, replaced it, lifted it a third time and replaced it one last time.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 13px/normal Courier New; min-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;The Carolina fan was becoming annoyed and asked, "What are you, a&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;pervert or something?  Why do you keep lifting and looking, lifting and looking?"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 13px/normal Courier New; min-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;font face="Courier New" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Courier New"&gt;"Well," said the officer, "I am just simply surprised.  Normally, when you look under a Carolina cap... you find an asshole. "&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Georgia"&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" face="Georgia" size="3"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br class="webkit-block-placeholder"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1859519851537283386?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1859519851537283386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1859519851537283386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1859519851537283386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1859519851537283386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/09/football-season-yet.html' title='Football Season Yet?'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1430210654302889399</id><published>2007-09-18T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T20:50:33.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Attorney and his wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 16.0px 0.0px"&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;This one's for all the women who have this uncanny ability and all the men who love us...&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; An attorney arrived home late, after a very tough day trying to get a stay of execution for a client who was due to be hanged for murder at midnight.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; His last minute plea for clemency to the governor had failed and he was feeling worn out and depressed. As soon as he walked through the door at  home, his wife started on him about, 'What time of night to be getting home is this?&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size="3" style="font: 12.0px Verdana"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;Where have you been?' 'Dinner is cold and I'm not reheating it'. And on and on and on. &lt;br&gt; Too shattered to play his usual role in this familiar ritual, he went and poured himself a shot of whiskey and headed off for a long hot soak in the bathtub, pursued by the predictable sarcastic remarks as he dragged himself up the stairs.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; While he was in the bath, the phone rang. The wife answered and was told that her husband's client, James Wright, had been granted a stay of execution after all. Wright would not be hanged tonight. Finally realizing what a terrible day he must have had, she decided to go upstairs and give him the good news. As she opened the bathroom door, she was greeted by the sight of her husband, bent over naked, drying his legs and feet.&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt; 'They're not hanging Wright tonight,' she said. &lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size="3" style="font: 12.0px Verdana"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size="4" style="font: 13.0px Verdana"&gt;To which he whirled around and screamed, 'FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN, DON'T YOU EVER STOP?!'&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana" size="3" style="font: 12.0px Verdana"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1430210654302889399?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1430210654302889399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1430210654302889399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1430210654302889399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1430210654302889399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/09/attorney-and-his-wife.html' title='An Attorney and his wife'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-5260489233297560401</id><published>2007-09-07T14:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T14:46:10.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons To Allow Drinking At Work</title><content type='html'>1. It&amp;#39;s an incentive to show up.&lt;p&gt;  2. It reduces stress.&lt;p&gt;  3. It leads to more honest communication. &lt;p&gt;  4. It reduces complaints about low pay. &lt;p&gt;  5. It cuts down on time off because you can work with a hangover. &lt;p&gt;  6. Employees tell management what they think, not what management wants to hear. &lt;p&gt;  7. It helps save on heating costs in the winter. &lt;p&gt;  8. It encourages carpooling. &lt;p&gt;  9. It increases job satisfaction because if you have a bad job, you don&amp;#39;t realize it.&lt;p&gt;  10. It eliminates vacations because people would rather come to work. &lt;p&gt;  11. It makes fellow employees look better. &lt;p&gt;  12. It makes conversations easier. &lt;p&gt;  13. It promotes honesty. &lt;p&gt;  14. It makes the cafeteria food taste better. &lt;p&gt;  15. Bosses are more likely to hand out raises when they are wasted. &lt;p&gt;  16. Salary negotiations are a lot more profitable. &lt;p&gt;  17. Suddenly, farting during a meeting isn&amp;#39;t so embarrassing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-5260489233297560401?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/5260489233297560401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=5260489233297560401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5260489233297560401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5260489233297560401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/09/reasons-to-allow-drinking-at-work.html' title='Reasons To Allow Drinking At Work'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4577206435493376678</id><published>2007-08-20T16:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T16:19:49.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surgeons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;font face="Times New Roman"&gt;Three Arkansas surgeons were playing golf together and discussing surgeries they had performed.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font color="#1f497d"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);"&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font color="#1f497d"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;One of them said, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m the best surgeon in Arkansas .&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In my favorite case, a concert pianist lost seven fingers in an accident, I reattached them, and 8 months later he performed a private concert for the Queen of England.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font color="#1f497d"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;The second surgeon said. &amp;quot;That&amp;#39;s nothing. A young man lost an arm and both legs in an accident, I reattached them, and 2 years later he won a gold Medal in track and field events in the Olympics.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font color="#1f497d"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;The third surgeon said, &amp;quot;You guys are amateurs. Several years ago a woman was high on cocaine and she rode a horse head-on into a train traveling at 80 miles an hour. All I had left to work with was the woman&amp;#39;s blonde hair and the horse&amp;#39;s ass. I was able to put them together and now she&amp;#39;s running for President.&amp;quot;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4577206435493376678?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4577206435493376678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4577206435493376678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4577206435493376678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4577206435493376678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/08/surgeons.html' title='Surgeons'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-5062725421144047863</id><published>2007-08-20T08:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T08:46:59.325-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Tomatoes</title><content type='html'>A beautiful woman loved growing tomatoes, but couldn&amp;#39;t seem to get her tomatoes to turn red. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;One day while taking a stroll she came upon a gentlemen neighbor who had the most beautiful garden full of huge red tomatoes. The woman asked the gentlemen, &amp;quot;What do you do to get your tomatoes so red?&amp;quot; The gentlemen responded, &amp;quot;Well, twice a day I stand in front of my tomato garden and expose myself, and my tomatoes turn red from blushing so much.&amp;quot; Well, the woman was so impressed, she decided to try doing the same thing to her tomato garden to see if it would work. So twice a day for two weeks she exposed herself to her garden hoping for the best.  &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;One day the gentlemen was passing by and asked the woman, &amp;quot;By the way, how did you make out? Did your tomatoes turn red? &amp;quot;No&amp;quot; she replied, &amp;quot;but my cucumbers are enormous.&amp;quot; &lt;br&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-5062725421144047863?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/5062725421144047863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=5062725421144047863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5062725421144047863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5062725421144047863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/08/big-tomatoes.html' title='Big Tomatoes'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7331606350907735288</id><published>2007-07-26T11:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T11:48:42.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Psychiatrist</title><content type='html'>A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young&lt;br&gt;mothers and their small children. &amp;quot;You all have obsessions,&amp;quot; he&lt;br&gt;observed.&lt;p&gt;To the first mother, Mary, he said, &amp;quot;You are obsessed with eating.&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ve even named your daughter Candy.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;He turned to the second Mom, Ann: &amp;quot;Your obsession is with money.&lt;br&gt;Again, it manifests itself in your child&amp;#39;s name, Penny.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;He turned to the third Mom, Joyce: &amp;quot;Your obsession is alcohol.  This&lt;br&gt;too shows itself in your child&amp;#39;s name, Brandy.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;At this point, the fourth mother, Kathy, quietly got up, took her&lt;br&gt;little boy by the hand and whispered, &amp;quot;Come on, Dick, we&amp;#39;re leaving.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7331606350907735288?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7331606350907735288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7331606350907735288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7331606350907735288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7331606350907735288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/07/psychiatrist.html' title='Psychiatrist'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7841432093301854722</id><published>2007-07-23T12:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T12:21:42.501-05:00</updated><title type='text'>EMBARRASSING MEDICAL EXAMS</title><content type='html'>1. A man comes into the ER and yells, &amp;quot;My wife&amp;#39;s going to have her&lt;br&gt;baby in the cab!&amp;quot; I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, Lifted&lt;br&gt;the lady&amp;#39;s dress, and began to take off her underwear.&amp;#194; Suddenly I&lt;br&gt;noticed that there were several cabs ---and I was in the wrong one.&lt;br&gt;Submitted by Dr. Mark MacDonald, San Francisco&lt;p&gt;2. At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly&lt;br&gt;and slightly deaf female patient&amp;#39;s anterior chest wall. &amp;quot;Big breaths,&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;I instructed. &amp;quot;Yes, they used to be,&amp;quot; replied the patient.&lt;br&gt;Submitted by Dr. Richard Byrnes, Seattle , WA&lt;p&gt;3. One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I told a Wife that&lt;br&gt;her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct. Not more than&lt;br&gt;five minutes later, I heard her reporting to the rest of the family&lt;br&gt;that he had died of a &amp;quot;massive internal fart.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Submitted by Dr. Susan Steinberg&lt;p&gt;4. During a patient&amp;#39;s two week follow-up appointment with his&lt;br&gt;cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he was having trouble&lt;br&gt;with one of his medications. &amp;quot;Which one?&amp;quot; I asked. &amp;quot;The patch, the&lt;br&gt;Nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I&amp;#39;m running&lt;br&gt;out of placesto put it!&amp;quot; I had him quickly undress and discovered what&lt;br&gt;I hoped I wouldn&amp;#39;t see. Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his&lt;br&gt;body!&amp;#194; Now, the instructions include removal of the old patch before&lt;br&gt;applying a new one.&lt;br&gt;Submitted by Dr. Rebecca St. Clair, Norfolk , VA&lt;p&gt;5. While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, &amp;quot;How&lt;br&gt;long have you been bedridden?&amp;quot; After a look of complete confusion she&lt;br&gt;answered.. &amp;quot;Why, not for about twenty years - when my husband was&lt;br&gt;alive.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Submitted by Dr. Steven Swanson-Corvallis, OR&lt;p&gt;6. I was performing rounds at the hospital one morning and while&lt;br&gt;checking up on a woman I asked, &amp;quot;So how&amp;#39;s your breakfast this&lt;br&gt;morning?&amp;quot;&amp;quot; It&amp;#39;s very good, except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can&amp;#39;t seem&lt;br&gt;to get used to the taste&amp;quot; the patient replied. I then asked to see the&lt;br&gt;jelly and the woman produced a foil packet labeled &amp;quot;KY Jelly.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Submitted by Dr. Leonard Kransdorf, Detroit , MI&lt;p&gt;7. A nurse was on duty in the Emergency Room when a young woman with&lt;br&gt;purple hair styled into a punk rocker Mohawk, sporting a variety of&lt;br&gt;tattoos, and wearing strange clothing, entered. It was quickly&lt;br&gt;determinedthat the patient had acute appendicitis, so she was&lt;br&gt;scheduled for immediate surgery. When she was completely disrobed on&lt;br&gt;the operating table, the staff noticed that her pubic hair had been&lt;br&gt;dyed green, and above it there was a tattoo that read, &amp;quot;Keep off the&lt;br&gt;grass.&amp;quot; Once the surgery was completed, the surgeon wrote a short note&lt;br&gt;on the patient&amp;#39;s dressing, which said, &amp;quot;Sorry, had to mow the lawn.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Submitted by RN no name&lt;p&gt;AND FINALLY!!!................&lt;br&gt;8. As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB, I was quite&lt;br&gt;embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams. To cover my&lt;br&gt;embarrassment I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly.&lt;br&gt;The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly&lt;br&gt;burst out laughing and further embarrassing me. I looked up from my&lt;br&gt;work and sheepishly said, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m sorry. Was I tickling you?&amp;quot; She&lt;br&gt;replied, &amp;quot;No doctor, but the song you were whistling was, &amp;quot;I wish I&lt;br&gt;was an Oscar Meyer Wiener.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;Dr. wouldn&amp;#39;t submit his name&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7841432093301854722?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7841432093301854722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7841432093301854722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7841432093301854722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7841432093301854722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/07/embarrassing-medical-exams.html' title='EMBARRASSING MEDICAL EXAMS'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2243285849898963444</id><published>2007-07-12T13:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T13:55:30.261-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now this is a salesman</title><content type='html'>A young guy from Wisconsin moves to Texas and goes to a big&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;everything under one roof&amp;quot; department store looking for a job.&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  The Manager says, &amp;quot;Do you have any sales experience?&amp;quot; The kid says&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;Yeah. I was a salesman back in Wisconsin.&amp;quot;  Well, the boss liked the&lt;br&gt;kid and gave him the job. &amp;quot;You start tomorrow.   I&amp;#39;ll come down after&lt;br&gt;we close and see how you did.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;His first day on the job was rough, but he got through it. After the&lt;br&gt;store was locked up, the boss came down. &amp;quot;How many customers bought&lt;br&gt;something from you today?&lt;p&gt;The kid says &amp;quot;one&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;The boss says &amp;quot;Just one? Our sales people average 20 to 30 customers a&lt;br&gt;day. How much was the sale for?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The kid says &amp;quot;$101,237.65&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;The boss says &amp;quot;$101,237.65? What the heck did you sell?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The kid says, &amp;quot;First, I sold him a small fish hook. Then I sold him a&lt;br&gt;medium fishhook. Then I sold him a larger fishhook. Then I  sold him a&lt;br&gt;new fishing rod. Then I asked him where he was going  fishing and he&lt;br&gt;said down the coast, so I told him he was going to need a  boat, so we&lt;br&gt;went down to the boat department and I sold him a Twin  engine Chris&lt;br&gt;Craft.&lt;p&gt;Then he said he didn&amp;#39;t think his Honda Civic would pull it, so I took&lt;br&gt;him down to the automotive department and sold him that 4x4&lt;br&gt;Expedition.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The boss said &amp;quot;A guy came in here to buy a fish hook and you sold him&lt;br&gt;a BOAT and a TRUCK?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The kid said &amp;quot;No, the guy came in here to buy Tampons for his wife,&lt;br&gt;and I said, &amp;#39;Dude, your weekend&amp;#39;s shot, you should go fishing.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2243285849898963444?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2243285849898963444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2243285849898963444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2243285849898963444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2243285849898963444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/07/now-this-is-salesman.html' title='Now this is a salesman'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4775012631745748801</id><published>2007-07-12T12:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T12:26:35.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Verb - Married Folks</title><content type='html'>Main Entry: mis•sion•ary   po•si•tion&lt;br&gt;Pronunciation: &amp;#39;mi-sh&amp;amp;-&amp;quot;ner-E  p&amp;amp;-&amp;#39;zi-sh&amp;amp;n&lt;br&gt;Function: verb&lt;br&gt;an act of a husband to placing or arranging his body in such a way as&lt;br&gt;to allow for praying that his wife will want to have sex with him&lt;br&gt;tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4775012631745748801?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4775012631745748801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4775012631745748801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4775012631745748801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4775012631745748801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/07/new-verb-married-folks.html' title='New Verb - Married Folks'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6604483885387955049</id><published>2007-07-02T11:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T11:13:09.858-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How many members of the Bush Administration are needed to change a light bulb?</title><content type='html'>How many members of the Bush Administration are needed to change a light bulb?&lt;p&gt;The answer, of course is Ten!&lt;br&gt; 1. One to deny that a light bulb needs to be changed.&lt;br&gt; 2. One to attack the patriotism of anyone who says the light bulb&lt;br&gt;needs to be changed.&lt;br&gt; 3. One to blame Clinton for burning out the light bulb.&lt;br&gt; 4. One to tell the nations of the world that they are either for&lt;br&gt;changing the light bulb or for darkness.&lt;br&gt; 5. One to give a billion dollar no-bid contract to Halliburton for&lt;br&gt;the new light bulb.&lt;br&gt; 6. One to arrange a photograph of Bush, dressed as a janitor,&lt;br&gt;standing on a step ladder under the banner: &amp;quot; Light Bulb Change&lt;br&gt;Accomplished.&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt; 7. One administration insider to resign and write a book documenting&lt;br&gt;in detail how Bush was literally in the dark.&lt;br&gt; 8. One to viciously smear #7.&lt;br&gt; 9. One surrogate to campaign on TV and at rallies on how George Bush&lt;br&gt;has had a strong light-bulb-changing policy all along.&lt;br&gt; 10. And finally one to confuse Americans about the difference between&lt;br&gt;screwing a light bulb and screwing the country.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6604483885387955049?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6604483885387955049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6604483885387955049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6604483885387955049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6604483885387955049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/07/how-many-members-of-bush-administration.html' title='How many members of the Bush Administration are needed to change a light bulb?'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7266114793659173531</id><published>2007-06-29T18:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T18:13:02.431-05:00</updated><title type='text'>CAKE OR BED</title><content type='html'>A HUSBAND IS AT HOME WATCHING A FOOTBALL GAME WHEN HIS WIFE INTERRUPTS,&lt;p&gt;HONEY, COULD YOU FIX THE LIGHT IN THE HALLWAY? IT&amp;#39;S BEEN FLICKERING  &lt;br&gt;FOR WEEKS NOW.&lt;p&gt;HE LOOKS AT HER AND SAYS ANGRILY, FIX THE LIGHTS NOW? DOES IT LOOK  &lt;br&gt;LIKE I HAVE GE WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD? I DON&amp;#39;T THINK SO.&lt;p&gt;FINE, THEN THE WIFE ASKS, WELL THEN, COULD YOU FIX THE FRIDGE DOOR?  &lt;br&gt;IT WON&amp;#39;T CLOSE RIGHT&lt;p&gt;TO WHICH HE REPLIED, FIX THE FRIDGE DOOR? DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE  &lt;br&gt;WESTINGHOUSE WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD? I DON&amp;#39;T THINK SO&lt;p&gt;FINE, SHE SAYS THEN COULD YOU AT LEAST FIX THE STEPS TO THE FRONT  &lt;br&gt;DOOR? THEY ARE ABOUT TO BREAK&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;M NOT A CARPENTER AND I DON&amp;#39;T WANT TO FIX STEPS HE SAYS. DOES IT  &lt;br&gt;LOOK LIKE I HAVE ACE HARDWARE WRITTEN ON MY FOREHEAD? I DON&amp;#39;T THINK  &lt;br&gt;SO I&amp;#39;VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU. I&amp;#39;M GOING TO THE BAR!!!!&lt;p&gt;SO HE GOES TO THE BAR AND DRINKS FOR A COUPLE OF  &lt;br&gt;HOURS...............................&lt;p&gt;HE STARTS TO FEEL GUILTY ABOUT HOW HE TREATED HIS WIFE, AND DECIDES  &lt;br&gt;TO GO HOME&lt;p&gt;AS HE WALKS INTO THE HOUSE HE NOTICES THAT THE STEPS ARE ALREADY FIXED.&lt;p&gt;AS HE ENTERS THE HOUSE , HE SEES THE HALL LIGHT IS WORKING.&lt;p&gt;AS HE GOES TO GET A BEER, HE NOTICES THE FRIDGE DOOR IS FIXED.&lt;p&gt;HONEY, HE ASKS, HOW&amp;#39;D ALL THIS GET FIXED? SHE SAID, WELL, WHEN YOU  &lt;br&gt;LEFT I SAT OUTSIDE AND CRIED.&lt;p&gt;JUST THEN A NICE YOUNG MAN ASKED ME WHAT WAS WRONG, AND I TOLD HIM.&lt;p&gt;HE OFFERED TO DO ALL THE REPAIRS, AND ALL I HAD TO DO WAS EITHER GO  &lt;br&gt;TO BED WITH HIM OR BAKE A CAKE.&lt;p&gt;HE SAID, SO WHAT KIND OF CAKE DID YOU BAKE?&lt;p&gt;SHE REPLIED, HELLOOOOO.. DO YOU SEE BETTY CROCKER WRITTEN ON MY  &lt;br&gt;FOREHEAD? I DON&amp;#39;T THINK SO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7266114793659173531?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7266114793659173531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7266114793659173531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7266114793659173531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7266114793659173531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/cake-or-bed.html' title='CAKE OR BED'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6568624260077365176</id><published>2007-06-27T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T09:38:51.191-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hallmark Cards</title><content type='html'>Ever wondered what happens when Hallmark writers are&lt;p&gt;having a bad day ??&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;My tire was thumping.&lt;br&gt;I thought it was flat&lt;p&gt;When I looked at the tire...&lt;br&gt;I noticed your cat.&lt;br&gt;Sorry!&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;  Heard your wife left you,&lt;br&gt;How upset you must be.&lt;br&gt;But don&amp;#39;t fret about it...&lt;br&gt;She moved in with me.&lt;p&gt;   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;    &amp;quot; Looking back over the years  that we&amp;#39;ve been together,&lt;br&gt;I can&amp;#39;t help but wonder...&lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;What the hell was I thinking?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;Congratulations on your wedding day!&lt;br&gt;Too bad no one likes your husband.&lt;p&gt;   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;How could two people as beautiful as you&lt;br&gt;Have such an ugly baby?&lt;p&gt;   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;ve always wanted to have&lt;br&gt;someone to hold,&lt;br&gt;someone to love.&lt;br&gt;After having met you ..&lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve changed my mind.&lt;p&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------ &lt;br&gt;-----------------------&lt;p&gt;I must admit, you brought Religion into my life.&lt;br&gt;I never believed in Hell until I met you.&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;As the days go by, I think of how lucky I am...&lt;br&gt;That you&amp;#39;re not here to ruin it for me.&lt;p&gt;   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;Congratulations on your promotion.&lt;br&gt;Before you go...&lt;br&gt;Would you like to take this knife out of my back?&lt;br&gt;You&amp;#39;ll probably need it again.&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;Happy Birthday, Uncle Dad!&lt;br&gt;(Available only in Tennessee , Kentucky &amp;amp; West Virginia )&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;Happy birthday! You look great for your age.&lt;br&gt;Almost Lifelike!&lt;p&gt;   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;When we were together,&lt;br&gt;you always said you&amp;#39;d die for me.&lt;br&gt;Now that we&amp;#39;ve broken up,&lt;br&gt;I think it&amp;#39;s time you kept your promise.&lt;p&gt;  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;We have been friends for a very long time ..&lt;br&gt;let&amp;#39;s say we stop?&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m so miserable without you&lt;br&gt;it&amp;#39;s almost like you&amp;#39;re here.&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;Congratulations on your new bundle of joy.&lt;br&gt;Did you ever find out who the father was?&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;Your friends and I wanted to do&lt;br&gt;something special for your birthday.&lt;br&gt;So we&amp;#39;re having you put to sleep.&lt;p&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;p&gt;So your daughter&amp;#39;s a hooker,&lt;br&gt;and it spoiled your day.&lt;br&gt;Look at the bright side,&lt;br&gt;it&amp;#39;s really good pay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6568624260077365176?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6568624260077365176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6568624260077365176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6568624260077365176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6568624260077365176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/hallmark-cards.html' title='Hallmark Cards'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7605018730788491197</id><published>2007-06-26T12:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T12:33:52.435-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here is another movie tie in</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mcrobin/632028583/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1112/632028583_2a78dbd7ba_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mcrobin/632028583/"&gt;Here is another movie tie in&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/mcrobin/"&gt;buckrockets&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7605018730788491197?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7605018730788491197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7605018730788491197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7605018730788491197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7605018730788491197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/here-is-another-movie-tie-in.html' title='Here is another movie tie in'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1112/632028583_2a78dbd7ba_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-627510539725704274</id><published>2007-06-25T11:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T14:48:10.069-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought for the day</title><content type='html'>If a bear takes a poop in the woods does anyone care?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-627510539725704274?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/627510539725704274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=627510539725704274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/627510539725704274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/627510539725704274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/thought-for-day.html' title='Thought for the day'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6878537519398142410</id><published>2007-06-24T10:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T10:31:37.722-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Map for a nap</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mcrobin/611864599/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1068/611864599_abf15102d8_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mcrobin/611864599/"&gt;Map for a nap&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/mcrobin/"&gt;buckrockets&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6878537519398142410?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6878537519398142410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6878537519398142410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6878537519398142410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6878537519398142410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/map-for-nap.html' title='Map for a nap'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1068/611864599_abf15102d8_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2694840227797891345</id><published>2007-06-24T08:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T08:41:50.559-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wisdom of the Heart</title><content type='html'>&amp;quot;The Wisdom of the Heart&amp;quot;&lt;br&gt;from the 14th Dalai Lama&lt;br&gt;Nobel Peace Prize Laureate (1989)&lt;p&gt;- Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.&lt;br&gt;- Open your arms to change, but don&amp;#39;t let go of your values.&lt;br&gt;- Sleep is the best meditation.&lt;br&gt;- Spend some time alone every day.&lt;br&gt;- We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace  &lt;br&gt;with ourselves.&lt;br&gt;- Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful  &lt;br&gt;stroke of luck.&lt;br&gt;- We can live without religion and meditation, but we cannot survive  &lt;br&gt;without human affection.&lt;br&gt;- Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.&lt;br&gt;- If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not  &lt;br&gt;harm them.&lt;br&gt;- The ultimate authority must always rest with the individual&amp;#39;s own  &lt;br&gt;reason and critical analysis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2694840227797891345?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2694840227797891345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2694840227797891345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2694840227797891345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2694840227797891345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/wisdom-of-heart.html' title='The Wisdom of the Heart'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-4140583120244208435</id><published>2007-06-14T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T22:18:57.939-05:00</updated><title type='text'>right and left</title><content type='html'>One day a florist goes to a barber for a haircut. After the cut he  &lt;br&gt;asked about his bill and the barber replies, &amp;quot;I cannot accept money  &lt;br&gt;from you. &amp;#39;I&amp;#39;m doing community service this week.&amp;quot; The florist is  &lt;br&gt;pleased and leaves the shop. Next morning when the barber goes to  &lt;br&gt;open his shop, there is a thank you card and a dozen roses waiting  &lt;br&gt;for him at his door.&lt;p&gt;Later, a cop comes in for a haircut, and when he goes to pay his bill  &lt;br&gt;the barber again replies, &amp;quot;I cannot accept money from you. I&amp;#39;m doing  &lt;br&gt;community service this week.&amp;quot; The cop is happy and leaves the shop.  &lt;br&gt;Next morning when the barber goes to open up there is a thank you  &lt;br&gt;card and a dozen donuts waiting for him at his door.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Later a Republican comes in for a haircut, and when he goes to pay  &lt;br&gt;his bill the barber again replies, &amp;quot;I cannot accept money from you.  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m doing community service this week.&amp;quot; The Republican is very happy  &lt;br&gt;and leaves the shop. Next morning when the barber goes to open, there  &lt;br&gt;is a thank you card and several different books, such as &amp;quot;How to  &lt;br&gt;Improve Your Business&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;Becoming More Successful.&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;Then a Democrat comes in for a haircut, and when he goes to pay his  &lt;br&gt;bill the barber again replies, &amp;quot;I cannot accept money from you. I&amp;#39;m  &lt;br&gt;doing community service this week.&amp;quot; The Democrat is very happy and  &lt;br&gt;leaves the shop.&lt;p&gt;The next morning when the barber goes to open up, there are three  &lt;br&gt;dozen Democrats lined up waiting for a free haircut.&lt;p&gt;And that, my friends, illustrates the fundamental difference between  &lt;br&gt;left and right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-4140583120244208435?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/4140583120244208435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=4140583120244208435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4140583120244208435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/4140583120244208435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/right-and-left.html' title='right and left'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-1331612083755522822</id><published>2007-06-14T22:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T22:16:36.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two blonde planters</title><content type='html'>Two blonde girls were working for the city public works department.  &lt;br&gt;One would dig a hole and the other would follow behind her and fill  &lt;br&gt;the hole in.&lt;p&gt;They worked up one side of the street, then down the other, then  &lt;br&gt;moved on to the next street, working furiously all day without rest,  &lt;br&gt;one girl digging a hole, the other girl filling it in again.&lt;p&gt;An onlooker was amazed at their hard work, but couldn&amp;#39;t understand  &lt;br&gt;what they were doing. So he asked the hole digger, &amp;quot;I&amp;#39;m impressed by  &lt;br&gt;the effort you two are putting in to your work, but I don&amp;#39;t get it --  &lt;br&gt;why do you dig a hole, only to have your partner follow behind and  &lt;br&gt;fill it up again?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;The hole digger wiped her brow and sighed, &amp;quot;Well, I suppose it  &lt;br&gt;probably looks odd because we&amp;#39;re normally a three-person team. But  &lt;br&gt;today the girl who plants the trees called in sick.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-1331612083755522822?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/1331612083755522822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=1331612083755522822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1331612083755522822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/1331612083755522822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/two-blonde-planters.html' title='Two blonde planters'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2443396194199129190</id><published>2007-06-14T13:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T13:10:35.969-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Spies </title><content type='html'>Two Iraqi spies met in a busy restaurant after they had successfully  slipped  into the U.S. The first spy starts speaking in Arabic. The second spy hushes him quickly  and whispers:&lt;p&gt;&amp;#39;Don&amp;#39;t blow our cover. You&amp;#39;re in America now, speak Spanish&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2443396194199129190?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2443396194199129190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2443396194199129190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2443396194199129190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2443396194199129190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/two-spies.html' title='Two Spies '/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-8026920821307643267</id><published>2007-06-14T11:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T11:22:55.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Native American</title><content type='html'>Recently an old Indian chief sat in his hut on the reservation, smoking a Ceremonial pipe and eyeing two U. S. Government officials sent by the President to interview him. &amp;#39;Chief Two Eagles&amp;#39; asked one official, &amp;#39;You have observed the white man for 90 years. You&amp;#39;ve seen his wars and his technological advances.  You&amp;#39;ve seen his progress, and the damage he&amp;#39;s done.&amp;#39; The Chief nodded in agreement. The official continued,  &amp;#39;Considering all these events, in your opinion, where did the white man  go wrong?&amp;#39; The Chief stared at the government officials for over a minute and then calmly replied, &amp;#39;When white man found the land, Indians were running it. No taxes, no debt, plenty buffalo, plenty beaver, women did all work, medicine man free, Indian man spent all day hunting and fishing, all night  making love .&amp;#39; Then the chief leaned back and smiled. &amp;#39;Only white man dumb enough to think he could improve system like that.&amp;#39;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-8026920821307643267?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/8026920821307643267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=8026920821307643267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8026920821307643267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/8026920821307643267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/native-american.html' title='Native American'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6237179241474393242</id><published>2007-06-12T20:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T20:59:47.737-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hillbilly Mirror</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana" size="4"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13.3px;"&gt;After living in the remote wilderness of&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;I&gt; &lt;/I&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" color="#001078" face="Verdana" size="4"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13.3px;"&gt;&lt;I&gt;Mississippi&lt;/I&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana" size="4"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13.3px;"&gt; all his life, An old hillbilly decided it was time to visit the big City of &lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" color="#001078"&gt;Greenville.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 10px/normal Arial; min-height: 11px; "&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana" size="4"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13.3px;"&gt;In one of the stores he picks up a mirror and looks in it. Not ever having seen one before, he remarked at the image staring back at him, "How about that! Here's a picture of my daddy." He bought the mirror thinking it was a picture of his daddy, but&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana" size="4"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13.3px;"&gt;on the way home he remembered his wife didn't like his father. So he hung it in the barn, and every morning before leaving for the fields, he would go there and look at it. His wife began to get suspicious of these many trips to the barn.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 13.3px/normal Verdana; min-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;DIV style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Verdana" size="4"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13.3px;"&gt;One day after her husband left, she searched the barn and found the mirror. As she looked into the glass, she fumed, So that's the ugly&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial" size="2"&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px;"&gt; ***&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;FONT class="Apple-style-span" color="#001078"&gt;c&lt;/FONT&gt;h he's runnin' around with."&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6237179241474393242?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6237179241474393242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6237179241474393242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6237179241474393242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6237179241474393242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/hillbilly-mirror.html' title='Hillbilly Mirror'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-256285585159062269</id><published>2007-06-05T20:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T20:53:54.149-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pastor's Donkey</title><content type='html'>The pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won. The pastor was  &lt;br&gt;so  pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and  &lt;br&gt;it won again. The local paper read...&lt;p&gt;PASTOR&amp;#39;S ASS OUT FRONT&lt;p&gt;The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered  &lt;br&gt;the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.&lt;p&gt;The next day, the local paper headline read:&lt;p&gt;BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR&amp;#39;S ASS&lt;p&gt;This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the pastor to get rid  &lt;br&gt;of the donkey. The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby  &lt;br&gt;convent.&lt;p&gt;The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline  &lt;br&gt;the next day:&lt;p&gt;NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN&lt;p&gt;The Bishop fainted. He informed the nun that she would have to get  &lt;br&gt;rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.&lt;p&gt;The next day the paper read:&lt;p&gt;NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10&lt;p&gt;This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back  &lt;br&gt;the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.&lt;p&gt;The next day the headlines read:&lt;p&gt;NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE&lt;p&gt;Alas, the Bishop was buried the next day.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Being concerned about public opinion can bring  &lt;br&gt;you much grief and misery and even shorten your life. So, be  &lt;br&gt;yourself, take care of your ass, and enjoy life, stop worrying about  &lt;br&gt;everyone else&amp;#39;s ass and you&amp;#39;ll live longer and be a lot happier!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-256285585159062269?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/256285585159062269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=256285585159062269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/256285585159062269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/256285585159062269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/pastors-donkey.html' title='The Pastor&apos;s Donkey'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2095484396690969854</id><published>2007-06-05T20:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T20:49:20.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SUMMARY OF MY E-MAIL FOR THE PAST YEAR; THANKS FOR ANY CONTRIBUTION</title><content type='html'>&amp;gt; I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat poop in  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; every envelope that needs sealing.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Also, now I have to scrub the top  of every can I open for the same  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; reason.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer have  any savings because I gave it to a sick girl  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; (Penny Brown) who is  about to die in the hospital for the  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; 1,387,258th time.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I  no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; me for participating in their special e-mail program&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no  longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; looking out for me, and St. Theresa&amp;#39;s novena has granted my every  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; wish.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually  horrible&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I  no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; a water buffalo on a hot day.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Thanks to you, I have  learned that my prayers only get answered if  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I forward an email to  seven of my friends and make a wish within  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; five minutes.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; remove toilet stains.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer can buy gasoline  without taking a man along to watch  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; the car so a serial killer  won&amp;#39;t crawl in my back seat when I&amp;#39;m  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; pumping gas.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I  no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; these products are atheists who refuse to put &amp;quot;Under God&amp;quot; on their  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; cans.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; And thanks for letting me know I can&amp;#39;t boil a cup water in the&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; me for life.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer check the coin return on pay phones  because I could be  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me  with  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; a perfume sample and rob me.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer  receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; actually Al  Qaeda in disguise.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer shop at Target since they  are French and don&amp;#39;t support  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; our American troops or the Salvation  Army.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer answer the phone because someone will  ask me to dial a  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; number for which I will get a phone bill with  calls to Jamaica,  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan .&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer have any sneakers -- but that will change once I  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; receive my free replacement pair from Nike.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I no longer buy  expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; have their recipe.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Thanks to you, I can&amp;#39;t use anyone&amp;#39;s toilet but mine because a big&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; death when it bites my bottom.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Thank you too for all  the endless advice Andy Rooney has given us.  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; I can live a better  life now because he&amp;#39;s told us how to fix  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; everything.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; And  thanks to your great advice, I can&amp;#39;t ever pick up $500 I  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Oh, and  don&amp;#39;t forget this one either! I can no longer drive my  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; car  because I can&amp;#39;t buy gas from certain gas companies!&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; If you  don&amp;#39;t send this e-mail to at least 42,000 people in the  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; next 42&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:42  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; PM this afternoon and the fleas from 42 camels will infest your  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor&amp;#39;s  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; ex-mother-in-law&amp;#39;s second husband&amp;#39;s cousin&amp;#39;s beautician...&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Have a wonderful day....AND&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; A scientist from Argentina, after  a lengthy study, has discovered  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; that people with insufficient  brain and sexual activity read their  &lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; e-mail with their hand on the  mouse.&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt; Don&amp;#39;t bother taking it off now, it&amp;#39;s too late&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2095484396690969854?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2095484396690969854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2095484396690969854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2095484396690969854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2095484396690969854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/summary-of-my-e-mail-for-past-year.html' title='SUMMARY OF MY E-MAIL FOR THE PAST YEAR; THANKS FOR ANY CONTRIBUTION'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-981128829940814202</id><published>2007-06-05T20:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T20:48:13.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I love you in 21 languages</title><content type='html'>English&lt;br&gt;I Love You&lt;p&gt;Spanish&lt;br&gt;Te Amo!&lt;p&gt;French&lt;br&gt;Je T&amp;#39;aime&lt;p&gt;German&lt;br&gt;lch Liebe Dich&lt;p&gt;Japanese&lt;br&gt;Ai Shite Imasu&lt;p&gt;Italian&lt;br&gt;Ti Amo&lt;p&gt;Chinese&lt;br&gt;Wo Ai Ni&lt;p&gt;Swedish&lt;br&gt;Jag Alskar&lt;p&gt;Alabama&lt;br&gt;Arkansas&lt;br&gt;Oklahoma&lt;br&gt;Texas&lt;br&gt;The Carolina&amp;#39;s&lt;br&gt;Georgia&lt;br&gt;Tennessee&lt;br&gt;Mississippi&lt;br&gt;Louisiana&lt;br&gt;Virginia&lt;br&gt;West Virginia&lt;br&gt;Kentucky&lt;br&gt;&amp;amp; parts of Florida&lt;br&gt;Nice Ass, Get in the truck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-981128829940814202?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/981128829940814202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=981128829940814202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/981128829940814202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/981128829940814202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-love-you-in-21-languages.html' title='I love you in 21 languages'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-6954438317075030648</id><published>2007-05-24T21:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T21:05:39.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'>FIVE RULES FOR MEN TO FOLLOW FOR A HAPPY LIFE</title><content type='html'>&lt;DIV&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;DIV style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:10pt; font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;DIV style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;1. It's important to have a woman, who helps at home, who cooks from time to time, cleans up and has a job.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;2. It's important to have a woman, who can make you laugh.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;3. It's important to have a woman, who you can trust and who doesn't lie to you.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;4. It's important to have a woman, who is good in bed and who likes to be with you.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;SPAN class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;5. It's very, very important that these four women do not know each other.&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;BR style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.3333px; "&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;BR class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/DIV&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-6954438317075030648?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/6954438317075030648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=6954438317075030648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6954438317075030648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/6954438317075030648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/05/five-rules-for-men-to-follow-for-happy.html' title='FIVE RULES FOR MEN TO FOLLOW FOR A HAPPY LIFE'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-9097285497314147247</id><published>2007-05-07T09:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T09:37:22.176-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Bikers!</title><content type='html'>I saw you hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line. But, you didn't see me, put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk. But, you didn't see me, playing Santa at the local mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, change your mind about going into the restaurant.But, you didn't see me, attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, roll up your window and shake your head when I drove by. But,you didn't see me, driving behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, frown at me when I smiled at your children. But, you didn't see me, when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, stare at my long hair. But, you didn't see me, and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, roll your eyes at our leather coats and gloves. But, you didn't see me, and my brothers donate our old coats and gloves to those that had none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, look in fright at my tattoos. But, you didn't see me, cry as my children where born and have their name written over and in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere. But, you didn't see me, going home to be with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be. But, you didn't see me, when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, yelling at your kids in the car. But, you didn't see me, pat my child's hands, knowing he was safe behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road. But, you didn't see me, squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, race down the road in the rain. But, you didn't see me, get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time. But, you didn't see me, trying to turn right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in. But, you didn't see me, leave the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, waiting impatiently for my friends to pass. But, you didn't see me. I wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw you, go home to your family. But, you didn't see me.&lt;br /&gt;Because, I died that day you cut me off.&lt;br /&gt;I was just a biker. A person with friends and a family.&lt;br /&gt;But, you didn't see me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-9097285497314147247?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/9097285497314147247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=9097285497314147247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/9097285497314147247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/9097285497314147247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/05/for-bikers.html' title='For the Bikers!'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-5045642759210652861</id><published>2007-05-01T08:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T08:53:49.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'>marriage story</title><content type='html'>A couple had only been married for two weeks and the husband, although very much in love, couldn't wait to go out on the town and party with his old buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he said to his new wife, "Honey, I'll be right back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you going, Coochy Coo?" asked the wife.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to the bar, Pretty Face," he answered. I'm going to have a beer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wife said, "You want a beer, my love?" She opened the door to the refrigerator and showed him 25 different kinds of beer, brands from 12 different countries: Germany , Holland , Japan , India , etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband didn't know what to do, and the only thing that he could think of saying was, "Yes, Lollipop... but at the bar... You know... they have frozen glasses... "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't get to finish the sentence, because the wife interrupted him by saying, "You want a frozen glass, Puppy Face?" She took a huge beer mug out of the freeze r, so frozen that she was getting chills just holding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The husband, looking a bit pale, said, "Yes, Tootsie Roll, but at the bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious... I won't be long. I'll be right back. I promise. OK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want hors d'oeuvres, Poochie Pooh?" She opened the oven and took out 5 dishes of different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in blankets, mushroom caps, and little quiches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But my sweet honey... at the bar.... you know there's swearing, dirty words and all that..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want dirty words, Cutie Pie? LISTEN UP CHICKEN SHIT! SIT YOUR ASS DOWN, SHUT THE HELL UP, DRINK YOUR BEER IN YOUR FROZEN MUG AND EAT YOUR HORS D'OEUVRES BECAUSE YOUR MARRIED ASS ISN'T GOING TO A DAMNED BAR! THAT SHIT IS OVER, GOT IT, JACKASS?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and...they lived happily ever after. Isn't that a sweet story? --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MARRIED LIFE - MAKES MY EYES TEAR UP, SUCH A HAPPY ENDING !!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-5045642759210652861?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/5045642759210652861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=5045642759210652861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5045642759210652861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/5045642759210652861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/05/marriage-story.html' title='marriage story'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-269488419944463391</id><published>2007-04-23T15:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T15:20:39.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Health Alert</title><content type='html'>In a number of carefully controlled trials, scientists in France have demonstrated that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than 1 kilo of Escherichia coli, (E. coli) bacteria found in feces. In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of Poop. However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine (or rum, whiskey or other liquor) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of boiling, filtering and/or fermenting. Remember: Water = Poop, Wine = Health Therefore, it's better to drink wine and talk stupid, than to drink water and be full of shit. There is no need to thank me for this valuable information: I'm doing it as a public service.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-269488419944463391?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/269488419944463391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=269488419944463391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/269488419944463391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/269488419944463391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/04/health-alert.html' title='Health Alert'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7309638394428080149</id><published>2007-04-23T08:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T08:52:58.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Belton - Bikes. Blues &amp; BBQ</title><content type='html'>Well this is my first review -- so yeah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an avid bike rider and someone who likes to donate time and money to a great cause and this weekend proved to be just that for a group of bikers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the opportunity this past weekend to join a group of big hearted bikers on a poker run to raise money for the local Autistic &amp; Special Olympics children around Belton, MO. While I do not have the official count I'll bet there was close to 100 bikes there this weekend. The ride started out in Belton, MO and we left around 11:30ish in the morning for a tour of MO. Now, I don't live in MO (I am on the other side of the state line) but I have to say I am always amazed at the countryside in MO and some of the nicest people you will ever meet. After departing from Belton we made our first stop to draw a card and I met some really nice people who offered to help me not get lost. One thing that I really like about other rides I have been on (besides a police escort) is that we all stay together, not the case here. After I drew my first card and went back to my bike to get ready to head out I noticed that several riders took off on their own for the next stop. Hey we're bikers free spirits! Realizing that we were probably not going to stay together one of the other riders in a group offered to let me tag along - which I was very grateful for since I had no idea where I was going. The nice folks that organized the ride did provide maps and mark the route as well as tell you were the stops were along the way, but I get lost real easy. I know a GPS posterchild. While I am not going to comment on every stop we made I have to comment on this one place that stuck in my mind - Fugglies. So, there we were riding along and then we made a left into a neighborhood and I thought - ok, were just going to ride through and eventually get to a business type district where the bar was located - nope. We drive along and I see what looks like an old neighborhood church and a bunch of bikes around it. First thought, that is kind of odd to name a church Fugglies. Boy was I wrong. We get inside and it is the coolest place with a really nice atmosphere. I stuck around there for a while talked to some people about bikes and just normal chit-chat. Again, great group of people. So, after leaving there the ride continued as normal and all went well. Another thing I liked about this ride is that each leg was about the right distance. Some rides there is a very short leg followed by long lines to draw a card and then get everyone back on their bike for another short leg. This one had had what appeared to me to be equal length legs between each stop. Which was very nice! The organizers were very well organized! My hat is off to them - thank you. This was the first annual ride and for it being their first one - it looked smooth to me. I know, there were probably things going on that I was not aware of and that is going to happen, but to the riders it all seemed to go off like clockwork. They had the card drawing process down to a routine and at the end I was one card away from a straight. Dang it. So, even though the whole group did not stay together I did join in with a group and they got me back to Belton around 4pm. Most of the riders took off to parts unknown with the intention of coming back around later that night to hear the blues band play. I stuck around until about 8 and I was just beat tired so I decide to skip the band this time. I apologize for not having any comments on the blues band, but I'll bet they were great as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since this was a bikes, blues &amp; BBQ - I cannot forget to comment on the BBQ - AWESOME!!! The sauce for the BBQ was very tasty and I really enjoyed it - both plates. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, it was a pleasure to be part of this ride and I feel honored to have been able to participate and help raise some money for a very worthy cause. I would recommend this ride to anyone and I am going to put this on my calendar for next year as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bucky&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7309638394428080149?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7309638394428080149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7309638394428080149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7309638394428080149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7309638394428080149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/04/belton-bikes-blues-bbq.html' title='Belton - Bikes. Blues &amp; BBQ'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-7675252613416488702</id><published>2007-04-02T17:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T08:49:27.801-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And now for something different</title><content type='html'>At the National Art Gallery in Dublin, a husband and wife were staring at a portrait that had them completely confused. The painting depicted 3 black men totally naked, sitting on a park bench. Two of the figures had black willies, but the one in the middle had a pink willy.&lt;p&gt;The curator of the gallery realized that they were having trouble&lt;br&gt;interpreting the painting and offered his personal assessment. He went on for over half an hour explaining how it depicted the sexual emasculation of African Americans in a predominately white, patriarchal society.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;In fact&amp;quot;, he pointed out, &amp;quot;some serious critics believe that the pink willy also reflects the cultural and sociological oppression experienced by gay men in contemporary society&amp;quot;.&lt;p&gt;After the curator left, an Irishman approached the couple and said,&amp;quot;Would you like to know what the painting is really about?&amp;quot;&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Now why would you claim to be more of an expert than the curator of the gallery?&amp;quot; asked the couple.&lt;p&gt;&amp;quot;Because I&amp;#39;m the guy who painted the picture,&amp;quot; he replied. &amp;quot;In fact, there are no African Americans depicted at all. They&amp;#39;re just three Irish coal miners. The guy in the middle went home for lunch.&amp;quot;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-7675252613416488702?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/7675252613416488702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=7675252613416488702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7675252613416488702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/7675252613416488702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/04/and-now-for-something-different.html' title='And now for something different'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3990522219685943306.post-2917485940728418156</id><published>2007-03-11T21:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T21:52:14.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Buckrockets</title><content type='html'>First post on the real buck rockets&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3990522219685943306-2917485940728418156?l=buckrockets.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/feeds/2917485940728418156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3990522219685943306&amp;postID=2917485940728418156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2917485940728418156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3990522219685943306/posts/default/2917485940728418156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://buckrockets.blogspot.com/2007/03/buckrockets.html' title='Buckrockets'/><author><name>Bucky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13436642109315007735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
