Everything is really full of love for you... The good that is for you Loves you as much as you Love it. The good that is for you seeks you & will come flying to you If you see that what you love is love itself. All people will change when you know that they are Love. We shall change toward all people when we know that we ourselves are formed out of Love. [
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recently an airplane was going to crash and the pilot informed the passengers they had aprox twenty minutes.
a woman stands up and starts explaining she has never been with a man or been married and wants to know the experience before she dies. a tall muscluar man stands up and asks are you shure about that?
the woman saying yes, the man starts takeing off his shirt you are sure ya want to know whats its like to be married? the woman again yes. the man now standing there with shirt in hand says fine, tosses the shirt at her and says see if you can get this ironed and pressed be fore we hit the ground.
well, ive been asked to make an anoucement for kat do to tech probs she may be mia for a while. she of course will be thinking of every one as she often does. I am sure any pos energy or prayers her way would be apreciated, thank you very much [ send green star] [ flag for review]
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A seaman meets a pirate in a bar, and talk turns to their adventures on the sea. The seaman notes that the pirate has a peg-leg, a hook, and an eye patch. The seaman asks "So, how did you end up with the peg-leg?"
The pirate replies "We were in a storm at sea, and I was swept overboard into a school of sharks. Just as my men were pulling me out, a shark bit my leg off."
"Wow!" said the seaman. "What about your hook"?
"Well...", replied the pirate, "We were boarding an enemy ship and were battling the other sailors with swords. One of the enemy cut my hand off."
"Incredible!" remarked the seaman. "How did you get the eyepatch"?
"A seagull dropping fell into my eye.", replied the pirate.
"You lost your eye to a seagull dropping?" the sailor asked incredulously.
a groups of nuns were driving down the highway at 22mph.people were blowing their horns and yelling.it created quite a stir. a trooper pulled them over. the driver was a little thing of eighty years.the nuns in the back were quiet,shaking,and turning white.the trooper asked what the problem was,why was she driving so slow.her reply was the sign says 22,officier.so i was obeying the speed,wasn't i?he said,no,that is not the speed limit sign.that is the route you are on.then he asked what was wrong with the others?she replied,they will be fine in a few miutes.we jyust turned off 1o3.
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One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his Sweatshirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, "What setting do I use on the washing machine?" "It depends," I replied. "What does it say on your shirt?" He yelled back, "University of Oklahoma."
"It's just too hot to wear clothes today," Jack says as he stepped out of the shower, "honey, what do you think the neighbors would think if I mowed the lawn like this?" "Probably that I married you for your money," she replied.
A married couple is driving along a highway doing a steady 40 miles per hour. The wife is behind the wheel. Her husband suddenly looks across at her and speaks in a clear voice. "I know we've been married for twenty years, but I want a divorce."
The wife says nothing, Keeps looking at the road ahead but slowly increases her speed to 45 mph. The husband speaks again. "I don't want you to try and talk me out of it," He says, "because I've been having an affair with your best friend, And she's a far better lover than you are." Again the wife stays quiet, But grips the steering wheel more tightly and slowly increases the speed to 55 He pushes his luck. "I want the house," he says insistently..
Up to 60. "I want the car, too," he continues.
65 mph. "And," he says, "I'll have the bank accounts, all the credit cards and the boat!"
The car slowly starts veering towards a massive concrete bridge. This makes him nervous, so he asks her, "Isn't there anything you want?"
The wife at last replies in a quiet and controlled voice. "No, I've got everything I need," she says. "Oh, really," he inquires, "so what have you got?"
Just before they slam into the wall at 65 mph, The wife turns to him and smiles. "The airbag."
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a samurai was walking down the road when a duck flew up and he shot it with his bow. the duck fell in a field, after picking up the duck the samurai started across a bridge when an old farmer stopped him asking him where you take my duck, duck fall in my field my duck . samurai says my shot my duck after a while the old farmer says we settle conflict in the way of ansestors. take turn kicking each other in groin who ever shows less pain keeps duck samurai agrees and tells the old farmer to go first. the old man kicks the samurai as hard as he can in the groin the samurai's face gets a little red but he shows no pain. after a bit he says your turn to the old man the old farmer looks at the samurai and says you keepa duck
I just thought this was funny, June 20, 2006 9:32 AM
An old cowboy, dressed in a cowboy shirt, hat, jeans, spurs and chaps went to a bar, sat down, and ordered a drink.
As he was sipping his whiskey, a young lady sat down next to him.
After she ordered her drink she turned to the cowboy and asked him, "Are you a real cowboy?"
To which he replied, "Well, I've spent my whole life on the ranch herding cows, breaking horses, and mending fences, so I reckon I am."
After a short while, he asked her what she was.
She replied, "I've never been on a ranch so I'm not a cowboy, but I am a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in the morning, I think of women. When I eat, shower, watch TV. Everything seems to make me think of women."
A short while later she left and the cowboy ordered another drink.
A couple sat down next to him and asked, "Are you a real cowboy?"
An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house."
The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.
"Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."
Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.
SO, to all of my crackpot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!
All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless removal: the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the EpilStop, and now ... The Wax. My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home, fixed dinner for my family and got everyone settled for the night. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours: maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.
I made sure no one would need me and I could head for the bathroom in peace. It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press it on your leg (or wherever). No muss, no fuss.
How hard can this be? I mean, I'm not the girliest of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd think. So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other, stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the wax. I go one better. I pull out the hair dryer and heat the SOB to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, my ass. (Oh, how that phrase will come back to haunt me.)
I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and pull. OK, so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this! So with my next wax strip, I'll move north.
After checking on my beloved family again, I sneak into the bathroom for The Ultimate Hair Fighting Championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.. Using the same procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right side on my bikini line, covering the right half of my vagina and stretching up into the inside of the right ass cheek. (Yeah, it was a long strip.)
I inhale deeply. I brace myself. RRRIIIIPPP!!!! I'm blind from the pain! ..... Vision returning. Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another deep breath. And RIIIP! Everything is swirly and tie-dyed. Do I hear crashing drums?
OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy -- my wax covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an Olympic gold medallist.
But why is there no hair on it? Why is the wax mostly gone?
..Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet.
I see hair -- the hair that should be on the strip. I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently shout
I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body that is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big mistake -- up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the toilet.
I know I need to move, to do something. So I put my foot down on the floor.
And then I hear the slamming of the cell door.
Vagina? Sealed shut.
Ass? Sealed shut.
A little voice in my head says, "I hope you don't have to %#&!*% anytime soon. Your head just might pop off."
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what I should do next.
Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest water I can stand and get in. The wax should melt and I can gently wipe it away, right?
I get in the tub -- the water is slightly hotter than is used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment -- and I sit.
Now the only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub. In scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold w
So now I'm stuck in the tub -- literally!
I call my friend, Liz, because she once dropped out of beauty school so surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's never good to start a conversation with "So my ass and vagina are stuck to the tub."
She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the ass. "Are we talking cheek or hole, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide the giggles now.
I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire crack sealed shut we'd just put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know. You're going to end up on a radio show or the Internet if you tell them the truth."
While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girlie goodies than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!
In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to Other subjects!) I find the lotion provided with the wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations from Liz and we hang up.
I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the hair is still there. So I shaved the damned stuff off. Hell, I was numb by that point anyway.
I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet. Never know when a moustache might start to come in.