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Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop ...

... I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Toni. What I came across was a 100,000-volt pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on an assailant. The idea is to allow my wife -- who would never consider a gun -----adequate time to retreat to safety. -----------WAY TOO COOL!!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs and I'd know it was working.

Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave). Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, right?!! There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood moving target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION .

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, and body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.

You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.

SON-OF-A-... that hurt like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected what little wits I had left, sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I'm still looking for my testicles!! I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.

Submitted b Dave, Bolder Co.

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The 2007 Darwin Award winners ...
  • A woman called in very upset because she caught her little daughter eating ants. The Dr. quickly reassured her that the ants are not harmful and there would be no need to bring her daughter into the hospital. She calmed down and at the end of the conversation happened to mention that she gave her daughter some ant poison to eat in order to kill the ants ...
  • Two Idiot of 2006 Early this year, some Boeing employees on the airfield decided to steal a life raft from one of the 747s. They were successful in getting it out of the plane and home. Shortly after they took it for a float on the river, they noticed a Coast Guard helicopter coming towards them. It turned out that the chopper was homing in on the emergency locator beacon that activated when the raft was inflated. They are no longer employed at Boeing.
  • A man, wanting to rob a downtown Bank of America, walked into the Branch and wrote this. "Put all your muny in this bag." While standing in line, waiting to give his note to the teller, he began to worry that someone had seen him write the note and might call the police before he reached the teller's window. So he left the Bank of America and crossed the street to the Wells Fargo Bank. After waiting a few minutes in line, he handed his note to the Wells Fargo teller. She read it and, surmising from his spelling errors that he wasn't the brightest light in the harbor, told him that she could not accept his stickup note because it was written on a Bank of America deposit slip and that he would either have to fill out a Wells Fargo deposit slip or go back to Bank of America. Looking somewhat defeated, the man said, "OK" and left. He was arrested a few minutes later, as he was waiting in line back at Bank of America.
  • A guy walked into a little corner store with a shotgun and demanded all of the cash from the cash drawer. After the cashier put the cash in a bag, the robber saw a bottle of Scotch that he wanted behind the counter on the shelf. He told the cashier to put it in the bag as well, but the cashier refused and said, "Because I don't believe you are over 21." The robber said he was, but the clerk still refused to give it to him because she didn't believe him. At this point, the robber took his driver's license out of his wallet and gave it to the clerk. The clerk looked it over and agreed that the man was in fact over 21 and she put the Scotch in the bag. The robber then ran from the store with his loot. The cashier promptly called the police and gave the name and address of the robber that he got off the license. They arrested the robber two hours later.
  • A pair of Michigan robbers entered a record shop nervously waving revolvers. The first one shouted, "Nobody move!" When his partner moved, the startled first bandit shot him.

Submitted by Vicki, Downingtown, Pa.

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Real 911 calls ...

Dispatcher: 9-1-1 What is your emergency?
Caller: I heard what sounded like gunshots coming from the brown house on the corner.
Dispatcher: Do you have an address?
Caller: No, I have on a blouse and slacks, why?

Dispatcher: 9-1-1 What is your emergency?
Caller: Someone broke into my house and took a bite out of my ham and cheese sandwich.
Dispatcher: Excuse me?
Caller: I made a ham and cheese sandwich and left it on the kitchen table and when I came back from the bathroom, someone had taken a bite out of it.
Dispatcher: Was anything else taken?
Caller: No, but this has happened to me before and I'm sick and tired of it!

Dispatcher: 9-1-1 What is the nature of your emergency?
Caller: I'm trying to reach nine eleven but my phone doesn't have an eleven on it.
Dispatcher: This is nine eleven.
Caller: I thought you just said it was nine-one-one
Dispatcher: Yes, ma'am nine-one-one and nine-eleven are the same thing.
Caller: Honey, I may be old, but I'm not stupid.

Dispatcher: 9-1-1 What's the nature of your emergency?
Caller: My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart
Dispatcher: Is this her first child?
Caller: No, you idiot! This is her husband!

And the winner is..........

Dispatcher: 9-1-1
Caller: Yeah, I'm having trouble breathing. I'm all out of breath. Darn....I think I'm going to pass out.
Dispatcher: Sir, where are you calling from?
Caller: I'm at a pay phone. North and Foster.
Dispatcher: ! Sir, an ambulance is on the way. Are you an asthmatic?
Caller: No
Dispatcher: What were you doing before you started having trouble breathing?
Caller: Running from the Police.

Submitted by Vicki, Downingtown, Pa.

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In her memoirs, Barbara Bush described one of those most embarrassing moments ...

... that inevitably occur, even on the most carefully advanced of foreign trips. Along with her husband, then the Vice President, Mrs. Bush was lunching with Emperor Hirohito at Tokyo's Imperial Palace.

Sitting next to the Emperor, Mrs. Bush found the conversation an uphill task. To all her efforts at verbal engagement, the Emperor would smile and say "Yes" or "No," with an occasional "Thank You" tossed in for good measure.

Looking around her elegant surroundings, she complimented Hirohito on his official residence.

"Thank you," he said.

"Is it new?" pressed Mrs. Bush.


"Was the old palace just so old that it was falling down?" asked Mrs. Bush.

In his most charming, yet regal, matter, Hirohito replied, "No, I'm afraid that you bombed it."

Submitted by Kenneth, Shropshire, England

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Clutching their Dillard's shopping bags, Ellen and Kay woefully gazed down at a dead cat ...

 in the mall parking lot. Obviously a recent hit---no flies, no smell. What business could that poor kitty have had here?" murmured Ellen.

"Come on, Ellen, let's just go..."

But Ellen had already grabbed her shopping bag and was explaining, "I'll just put my things in your bag, and then I'll take the tissue." She dumped her purchases into Kay's bag and then used the tissue paper to cradle and lower the former feline into her own Dillard's bag and cover it. They continued the short trek to the car in silence, stashing their goods in the trunk. But it occurred to both of them that if they left Ellen's burial bag in the trunk, warmed by the Texas sunshine while they ate, Kay's Lumina would soon lose that new-car smell. They decided to leave the bag on top of the trunk, and they headed over to Luby's Cafeteria.

After they cleared the serving line and sat down at a window table, they had a view of Kay's Chevy with the Dillard's bag still on the trunk. BUT not for long!!!!! As they ate, they noticed a black-haired woman in a red gingham shirt stroll by their car, look quickly this way and that, and then hook the Dillard's bag without breaking stride. She quickly walked out of their line of vision.

Kay and Ellen shot each other a wide-eyed look of amazement. It all happened so fast that neither of them could think how to respond.

"Can you imagine?" finally sputtered Ellen. "The nerve of that woman!"

Kay sympathized with Ellen, but inwardly a laugh was building as she thought about the grand surprise awaiting the red-gingham thief. Just when she thought she'd have to giggle into her napkin, she noticed Ellen's eyes freeze in the direction of the serving line. Following her gaze, Kay recognized with a shock the black-haired woman with the Dillard's bag, THE Dillard's bag, hanging from her arm, brazenly pushing her tray toward the cashier.

Helplessly they watched the scene unfold: After clearing the register, the woman settled at a table across from theirs, put the bag on an empty chair and began to eat. After a few bites of baked whitefish and green beans, she casually lifted the bag into her lap to survey her treasure. Looking from side to side, but not far enough to notice her rapt audience three tables over, she pulled out the tissue paper and peered into the bag. Her eyes widened, and she began to make a sort of gasping noise. The noise grew. The bag slid from her lap as she sank to the floor, wheezing and clutching her upper chest. The beverage cart attendant quickly recognized a customer in trouble and sent the busboy to call 911, while she administered the Heimlich maneuver.

A crowd quickly gathered that did not include Ellen and Kay, who remained riveted to their chairs for seven whole minutes until the ambulance arrived. In a matter of minutes the black-haired woman emerged from the crowd, still gasping, strapped securely on a gurney. Two well-trained EMS volunteers steered her to the waiting ambulance, while a third scooped up her belongings. The last they saw of the distressed cat-burglar, she disappeared behind the ambulance doors, the Dillard's bag perched on her stomach.

My mom always taught me if it doesn't belong to you don't touch it, guess she didn't have a wise mom like I do. Serves her right, God does take care of those who do bad things!

Submitted by Andy, Gettysburg, Pa.

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I was buying a large bag of Purina Dog Chow ...

... and was in line to check out. The woman behind me asked if I had a dog. On impulse, I told her that no, I was starting the Purina Diet again.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is that you load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. I said that the dog food is nutritionally complete, so I was going to try it again, although I probably shouldn't because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I had lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

(By now, practically everyone in the line was enthralled with my story, particularly a tall guy who was behind the woman I was talking to.)

Horrified, she asked if the dog food had poisoned me. I told her no; I had been sitting in the street scratching fleas and a car hit me.

I thought one guy was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard as he staggered out the door.

Submitted by Kevin, Dallas Tx.

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When Nathan Radlich's house was burgled, thieves left his TV...

..., his VCR, and even left his watch. What they did take was "generic white cardboard box filled with greyish-white powder." (That at least is the way the police described it.)  

A spokesman for the Fort Lauderdale police said "that it looked similar to cocaine and they'd probably thought they'd hit the big time."

Then Nathan stood in front of the TV cameras and pleaded with the burglars: "Please return the cremated  remains of my sister, Gertrude. She died three years ago."

Well, the next morning, the  bullet-riddled corpse of a drug dealer known as Hoochie Pevens was found on  Nathan's doorstep. The cardboard box was there too; about half of Gertrude's  ashes remained. And there was this note. It said:

"Hoochie sold us the bogus  blow, so we wasted Hoochie.  Sorry we snorted your sister. No hard feelings. Have  a nice day."

Submitted by Lindsey, Melbourne, Australia

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News From the Old Country ...
  • Commenting on a complaint from a Mr. Arthur Purdey about a large gas bill, a spokesman for North West Gas said, "We agree it was rather high for the time of year. It's possible Mr. Purdey has been charged for the gas used up during the explosion that destroyed his house." (The Daily Telegraph)
  • Police reveal that a woman arrested for shoplifting had a whole salami in her underwear. When asked why, she said it was because she was missing her Italian boyfriend. (Manchester Evening News)
  • Irish police are being handicapped in a search for a stolen van, because they cannot issue a description. It's a special branch vehicle and they don't want the public to know what it looks like. (The Guardian)
  • A young girl who was blown out to sea on a set of inflatable teeth was rescued by a man on an inflatable lobster. A coast guard spokesman commented, "This sort of thing is all too common." (The Times)
  • At the height of the gale the harbourmaster radioed a coastguard and asked him to estimate the wind speed. He replied that he was sorry, but he didn't have a wind gauge. However, if it was any help, the wind had just blown his Land Rover off the cliff. (Aberdeen Evening Express)
  • Mrs. Irene Graham, of Thorpe Avenue, Boscombe, delighted the audience with her reminiscences of the German POW who was sent each week to do her garden. He was repatriated at the end of 1945, and she recalled that He's always seemed a nice friendly chap, but when the crocuses came up in the middle of our lawn in February 1946 they spelt out 'Heil Hitler.' (Bournemouth Evening Echo)

Submitted by Lindsay, Melbourne, Australia

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When I was growing up in the country a local character was known to all and sundry as 'skinflint'.

It was said he would rob mousetraps for the fur they contained, and he was about as popular as a wicker seat in a nudist colony. He hated any kind of work, but lived on various shady deals he made with anyone silly enough to talk to him. He wasn't all that bright, but his skin was as thick as rhinoceros hide. He was also enormously fat, and rumor had it that his wife had expired from lack of sunshine.

One time he sprained his ankle - possibly from falling off his wallet - so he drove to the doctor's house and called for him to come out and examine him. The medico reluctantly went to the car and, after looking at the ankle, said, "It's a slight sprain, that's all. Bathe it in hot water and rest. That's all you can do." Knowing his patient's reputation he added, "That'll be ten dollars, thanks."

"What for?" demanded skinflint.

"My professional advice."

"Nothing doing." Putting the car in gear he said, "I've decided not to take it."

Submitted by Lindsay, Melbourne, Australia.

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The IRS decides to audit Ralph, and summons him to the IRS office.

The IRS auditor is not surprised when Ralph shows up with his attorney.

The auditor says, "Well, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the IRS finds that believable."

"I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it," says Ralph. "How about a demonstration?"

The auditor thinks for a moment and said, "Okay. Go ahead."

Ralph says, "I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye."

The auditor thinks a moment and says, "No way! It's a bet."

Ralph removes his glass eye and bites it.

The auditor's jaw drops. Ralph says, "Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye."

The auditor can tell Ralph isn't blind, so he takes the bet.

Ralph removes his dentures and bites his good eye.

The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost three grand, with Ralph's attorney as a witness. He starts to get nervous.

"Want to go double or nothing?" Ralph asks. "I'll bet you six thousand dollars that I can stand on one side of your desk, and pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between."

The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this guy can manage that stunt, so he agrees again.

Ralph stands beside the desk and although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on other side, so he pretty much urinates all over the desk.

The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win. But Ralph's attorney moans and puts his head in his hands.

"Are you okay?" the auditor asks.

"Not really," says the attorney. "This morning, when Ralph told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me twenty thousand dollars that he could come in here and pee all over an IRS official's desk and that you'd be happy about it."

Submitted by Dave, Bolder, CO.

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The conservationist

I was winding up me sundial
When a friend rang up to say
That a meeting was in progress
In the hall across the way.

So I donned me best blue singlet,
Ran the clothes brush through me hair
And strolled grandly to the meeting
Looking suave and debonair.

The wild-eyed speaker on the stage
Stamped and screeched and raved
About our dwindling forest lands,
How the trees must all be saved.

"Take heed, my friends!" he loudly cried,
"For our aim in life must be
To put our shoulders to the wheel
And save each single tree!"

He raged about our heritage -
All those trees we held in trust -
With such frenzied fire and brimstone
That it seemed he's surely bust.

"Now is there one amongst us here,"
He bawled with animation,
"Who truthfully can testify
They've aided conservation?"

Then up spoke Billy Cassidy,
A well-known ego-wrecker -
"I've done me bit. I once shot dead

Submitted by Lindsey, Melbourne, Au.

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Country Yarns ... true, of course

  1. Two hard playing and drinking brothers lived in a small wheat-farming town. After a busy harvest one year they loaded a few dozen bottles into their battered old car and set out for their farm after the pubs had closed. The cars' lights were pretty useless, and this together with their inebriated state meant they got a bit lost and became locked onto the railway tracks that actually ran through the middle of town. The fact that they weren't actually steering the car didn't bother them for quite a while, but when they left the town the bumpy nature of their ride made them think they'd got a puncture. The driver stopped, accidentally over a cattle grating, and his brother staggered out to investigate. Falling through the grating so that his legs straddled the grid, he had a terrible time getting back into the car, but when he did - minus several chunks of skin - he told his brother "This terrible road's the problem. You'd have a problem even flying over it in a bloody aeroplane."

  2. A very bashful and shy young farmer surprisingly turned up at a local dance in a neighbour's barn. He stood in the doorway quietly until the accordion player began a polka, when he went over to the buxom young daughter of the local mayor, who was about his own age, and asked her for the dance. The pranced about the floor spiritedly until the band called a halt, upon which the farmer pulled out a red and white dotted handkerchief, mopped his face, gazed approvingly at his partner and said in admiring tones, "Cripes, Amy, you don't half sweat good!"

  3. The local schoolteacher in our small town urged her twenty-two pupils to be observant on the way to school so they could start the day by telling the others what marvellous or unique thing they had noticed. Most things were quite ordinary, but one that was never forgotten was the day I blurted out that I had seen 'a double-decker grasshopper'.

  4. A doctor got lost in the mountains, so called into an isolated shack to ask directions. A haggard, dejected looking woman was trying to explain the route when her husky, tough looking son about three strode up and demanded, in no uncertain manner, that his mother feed him forthwith. The doctor became quite troubled as he watched the mother nurse her son, and he finally said, "That boy is too big to nurse. He should have been weaned long ago."

    "I know, I know", the woman wailed helplessly, "but every time I try, he throws rocks at me."

  5. Two ladies were talking in a country store, and the conversation was the tragedy of an acquaintance who had lost both legs in a motorcar accident. "Marvellous how she gets around on those artificial legs of hers, isn't it?" one of them remarked.

    "Yes indeed," replied the other, "But I think she's still got her own feet, though."

  6. Indian hawkers were a common sight in some areas years ago, but as kids we looked forward to their visits as a break in monotony. One old guy tried to sell my sister a watch. "Is it gold?" she asked.

  7. "Gold now, for sure, little woman. Maybe go brass someday."

Submitted by Lindsey, Melbourne Australia

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T-shirts are always a problem in the military ...

The following directive was issued by the Commanding Officer of a naval installation in the Mid-East and was obliviously directed at the Marines.

To: All Commands

Subject: Inappropriate T-Shirts

  1. All commanders promulgate upon receipt.
  2. The following T-shirts are no longer to be worn on or off base by any military or civilian personnel serving in the Middle East:
    • "Eat Pork or Die" [both English and Arabic versions]
    • "Shrine Busters" [Various. Show burning minarets or bomb/artillery shells impacting Islamic shrines. Some with unit logos.]
    • "Napalm, Sticks Like Crazy" [Both English and Arabic versions]
    • "Goat - it isn't just for breakfast any more." [Both English and Arabic versions]
    • "The road to Paradise begins with me." [Mostly Arabic versions but some in English. Some show sniper scope cross-hairs]
    • "Guns don't kill people. I kill people." [Both Arabic and English versions]
    • "Pork. The other white meat." [Arabic version]
    • "Infidel" [English, Arabic and other coalition force languages.]
  3. The above T-shirts are to be removed from Post Exchanges upon receipt of this directive.
  4. The following signs are to be removed upon receipt of this message:
    • "Islamic Religious Services Will Be Held at the Firing Range At 0800 Daily."
    • "Do we really need 'smart bombs' to drop on these dumb bastards?"
  5. All commands are instructed to implement sensitivity training upon receipt.

Submitted by Dick, Williamsport, Md.

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Jasper and the uncooked yeast rolls - by Ann Jeffries

We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child whom you know nothing about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent. Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss on me. Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several! nights. The new door cost over $200. But I digress.

Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time. I was however assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend. I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment.

I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening to reheat on Thursday morning. Since the kitchen was freshly painted you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for five hours. After three hours, Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. An hour later the rolls were ready to go in the oven. It was 8:30 PM when I went to the living room to retrieve the pans. Much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated. I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night.

God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night. Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on my part. We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dogs out to relieve themselves. Well, the damn dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls and falling flat on his butt. Most of the time when he was walking, his front half was going in one direction and the other half was either dragging the floor or headed 90 degrees in another direction. He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence. His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon.

I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours! Also we had to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.

Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day. My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk [124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.

Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it. Now he was beginning to fart, and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karee's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.

Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunk dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out" and Jasper was no exception. Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind.

But alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karee's house. Having discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor. This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure. We finally tried to remove it with a shovel.

I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the damn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor. These had to be brushed too. Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house. I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door. It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them, and decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea.

Now I'm doing research on the computer as to "How to clean unbaked dough from the Carpet." And how was your Day?

Submitted by Joe, Emmitsburg, MD.

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Top honors for "Human Projectile of the Month" go to an as-of-yet unidentified person ...

... who is also a serious contender for the annual "Darwin Award". That prestigious prize is given posthumously to the person who does the human gene pool the greatest service by removing himself from it in the most extraordinarily stupid fashion.

Troopers from the Arizona Highway Patrol got on to this gallant if not brainless form of ballistic research after motorists reported some mysterious scorched and blackened scars on a stretch of deserted highway.

The more officers found, the stranger the case got. Here is what they "pieced" together:

JATO units are basically huge canisters of solid rocket fuel used to achieve "Jet Assisted Take Off", typically lifting big transport planes into the air from short, rough ground runways, or shooting overloaded planes from the decks of aircraft carriers.

They were not, repeat NOT, designed to augment the inherent boost factor of a 1967 Chevy Impala. But it is guessed that -- let's call him "Zippy" ---- didn't know that when he hooked one up to his ride.

He apparently chose his runway carefully, selecting a nice long, lonely piece of straight highway in good repair. Not guessing that he might need a bit more than five miles of zoom surface, Zippy's test track had, that far down the track, a gentle rise on a sloping turn. He kicked the tire, lit the fire, ran his Chev up to top cruising speed, and hit the ignition. Investigators know exactly where this happened, judging from the extended patch of burned and melted asphalt.

The pocket calculator boys figure Zip reached maximum thrust within 5 seconds, punching the Chevy to "well in excess of 350 miles per hour" and continued at "full burn" for another 20 to 25 seconds. Early in that little sprint, at roughly 2.5 miles down the road, the Human Hydro Shock stood on the brakes, melting them completely, blowing the tires and rapidly reducing all four skins to liquefied trails on the pavement.

Remember that little rise on the turn? That's where Zippy concluded his land speed record attempt and went for airborne honors, ultimately reaching an altitude of 125 feet and still climbing when his flight was abruptly terminated. We'll never know how far or how high he might have gone. A cliff face of solid rock kind of got in his way, posing a serious reaffirmation of the law of physics vis-a-vis two chunks of matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time. He gave it hell though, blasting a 6-foot crater. The best modern forensic science could do was ID the car's make and model year. As for Zippy, only trace evidence of bone, teeth, and hair were found in the crater.

Submitted by Bill, Narberth, PA.

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