~ Happy Valentine's Day ~

John Stamos' Guide To Cuddling

by Michael

Whitney Houston 1963 - 2012

by Michael

Whitney's voice, mere hours after her death, has already proved it can outlive her body. Even if her humanity couldn't handle that tone, posterity certainly can.

Whitney's singing came under a lot of fire in her last few years, but I hope it's not too early to hope for a critical reappraisal. In the 80's and 90's, Whitney's instrument was a natural marvel. She didn't have to do anything with it. She opened her mouth and there it was; making sounds bigger and better than any other sounds in the world. Interpretation? Nuance? Whitney's singing couldn't contain those things, because the songs she sang couldn't contain her magnificent voice. But on Whitney's last record, and in the concerts she gave to promote it, none of that was true. Singing "I Look To You," she wasn't just a voice. She barely had a voice. She was a woman. A little sad, more than a little tired, and -- if her endless, loopy onstage banter was any sign - absolutely that those natural gifts upon which she had built her career and identity had abandoned her forever. All of this came through in her singing. If music is judged by how much weight and wisdom and emotion can be supported by a single sung word (and I like Patti Smith and Maria Callas, so I think it is), then in those last concerts Whitney made some of the most beautiful music of her life.

Dad at the Mall

by Dianne

I took my dad to the mall the other day to buy some new shoes (he is 66).

We decided to grab a bite at the food court.

I noticed he was watching a teenager sitting next to him.

The teenager had spiked hair in all different colors - green, red, orange, and blue.

My dad kept staring at her.

The teenager kept looking and would find my dad staring every time.

When the teenager had had enough, she sarcastically asked:
"What's the matter old man, never done anything wild in your life?"

Knowing my Dad, I quickly swallowed my food so that I would not  choke on his response . . . I knew he would have a good one!

In classic style he responded without batting an eyelid . . .

"I got stoned once and had sex with a parrot. I was just wondering if you might be my kid."

Auto Correct Part Deux!

by Zona

I can't get enough of this stuff..so funny.......

Public Restrooms

by Michael

Many people seem to look at public restrooms as both an opportunity to do things they wouldn't do at home, and a creative playground.

Just The Facts

1. 110 percent of the craps taken in a public restroom are diarrhea. Ten percent wind up outside of the toilets.
2. Trying to fart without someone hearing is impossible and pointless because someone else always walks in as soon as the last person walks out.
3. Gas station bathrooms should only be entered if you are on fire or in a zombie movie, and there isn't another door or any open wilderness within miles.

Landmarks, Hazards and Annoyances

Public restrooms are a veritable wasteland of desperation and diarrhea. Everyone who has ever used a public restroom knows what to expect to find. Anyone who has not used one is a weirdo, and is one of the six luckiest people on Earth.

Public restrooms always include at least all of the following...

Graffiti - Definitely the highlight of a typical field trip to the crapper. This can be compared to anything from cave paintings to a rolodex of escort service numbers, dependent on the store and/or gas station and/or strip club that you're at. You'll see at least 50 randomly drawn or carved curse words, unimaginable artwork, several dudes' numbers, your mom's number, and sometimes an actual conversation.

Hieroglypshits, if you will. Meh, we could do better but...you know, laziness.

Turdffiti - The worst thing you can find in a bathroom. Same as graffiti, but drawn with poop. If you discover a turdffiti drawing, call a hazmat team to cleanse the area and yourself....or, if you did it, call a mental institution and commit yourself.

Floor Turd (could also be a Sink, Wall, or Toilet Tank Turd) - These are nice, self-explanatory surprises that you find laying on the floor of a stall or an even more unfitting place for human waste. This is the typically done by people who are extremely drunk, or those who are just deviant and want to make a janitor cry.

Broken Toilet - Happens every time you have to take an earth shattering, spleen passing, life threatening zeppelin of a dump. You never notice until after, as they are rarely labeled. Even if they are labeled, you are in too much of a hurry to notice until you find yourself wiping with the "Out of Order" sign.

Pee Gel - Describes the coagulated layer of urine present on every public restroom floor. Many bathrooms have drains on the floor, which are pretty much just there to mock you, as they are no help against pee that has turned to Jello. The pee is several feet thick in men's bathrooms.

The Pubic Hair of Doom - No matter what toilet you're forced to crap on, there will always be a worm-sized pubic hair on the toilet seat. Brush it off the seat with something other than your hand. If you don't, it will embed itself in your skin with it's teeth.

Glory Hole - Where perverts live. A glory hole is a hole cut in the wall or between stalls meant for both peeping and spreading sexually transmitted diseases.

Snot Spots - Uninspired name aside, these are localized areas of bathroom stalls or walls that inexplicably accumulate boogers. These always happen in the same spots, as when the first booger breaks ground a hundred million more will follow suit. The toilet paper that sits right beside you will have to wait and just wipe your ass instead, as it is for some reason not for blowing noses.

Lady's Delight - A used female sanitary device that has been left behind, either inside or outside of a toilet, for the next bathroom user to stumble upon. The ultimate grossout, but at least they mostly happen in women's restrooms. Mostly.

Log Paper - Sometimes there will be toilet paper available. However, when there is, you will go out of your way to wipe yourself with something else. Public toilet paper is a combination of wood, pine cones, metal shavings, ass hairs and steel wool. Despite being rougher than sex with a dump truck, this paper is still somehow thinner than air, and you will promptly get shit finger even when using a basketball sized wad of it to wipe.

Typical Public Restroom Toilet Paper

 

Inhabitants

There are also many abnormal people that dwell within a public restroom to avoid. They include, but are not limited to:

Talkers - Complete strangers that talk to you or others while you're using the bathroom. There are many types, including phonetalkers (see below). Never talk to any of them.

Stalltalkers - People that talk to you from within a stall. They are creepier than normal talkers, as you can not see what they are doing.

Phonetalkers - Texting or using mobile web on the toilet in public is fine...it does not reveal you to be disgusting. However, there are people who find it necessary to share the sounds of straining with their friends. These are phonetalkers.

Creepers - These are usually curious little kids, but can also be a type of pervert. These are people that look or even climb under or over a stall at you. If you encounter one, put your foot on their face and push them out.

Peepers - Self explanitory. Try to hide your junk if you feel you're being watched.

The Intoxicated - The drunk and/or stoned are 100% more likely to contribute to the previously described hazards. If you are one of The Intoxicated and feel the urge to pass out in a public restroom, don't. You will suffer the wrath.

Human Spaceships - People who hover over the toilet seat to go. God forbid a few germs get on the outside of your buttcheeks while an infinite amount of germs drop into the toilet from between them. Women are the biggest culprits, as they both fear germs and fear being normal. If a guy hovers, he is most certainly drunk and is not currently in control of his depth perception. Hovering can only be excused if there is a non-urine based bodily fluid on the toilet seat, which would likely have been caused by hovering in the first place. So DON'T DO IT.

Getting Old

by Dianne

Several days ago as I left a meeting at our church, I desperately gave myself a personal TSA pat down. I was looking for my keys. They were not in my pockets. A quick search in the meeting room revealed nothing.

Suddenly I realized, I must have left them in the car. Frantically, I headed for the parking lot. My wife, Diane, has scolded me many times for leaving the keys in the ignition. My theory is the ignition is the best place not to lose them. Her theory is that the car will be stolen. As I burst through the doors of the church, I came to a terrifying conclusion. Her theory was right. The parking lot was empty.

I immediately call the police. I gave them my location, confessed that I had left my keys in the car, and that it had been stolen. Then I made the most difficult call of all.

“Honey,” I stammered. I always call her “Honey” in times like these. “I left my keys in the car, and it has been stolen.”

There was a period of silence. I thought the call had been dropped, but then I heard Diane’s voice.

“Ken,” she barked, “I dropped you off!”

Now it was my time to be silent. Embarrassed, I said, “Well, come and get me.”

Diane retorted, “I will, as soon as I convince this policeman I have not stolen your car!”