October 2006 Archives

Things that sound dirty at Thanksgiving, but aren't....

"Whew, that's one terrific spread!"

"I'm in the mood for a little dark meat."

"Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist."

"Talk about a huge breast!"

"It's Cool Whip time!"

"If I don't undo my pants, I'll burst!"

"Are you ready for seconds yet?"

"It's a little dry, do you still want to eat it?"

"Just wait your turn, you'll get some."

"Don't play with your meat."

"Just spread the legs open and stuff it in."

"Do you think you'll be able to handle all these people at once?"

"I didn't expect everyone to come at once!"

"You still have a little bit on your chin."

"Use a nice smooth stroke when you whip it in."

"How long will it take after you stick it in?"

"You'll know it's ready when it pops up."

"Wow, I didn't think I could handle all of that!"

"How many are coming?"

"That's the biggest one I've ever seen!"

"Just lay back and take it easy.....I'll do the rest."

"How long do I beat it before it's ready?"

This year, I resolve to...

1. Gain weight. At least 30 pounds.

2. Stop exercising. Waste of time.

3. Read less. Makes you think.

4. Watch more TV. I've been missing some good stuff.

5. Procrastinate more. Starting tomorrow.

6. Not date any of the "Baywatch" cast.

7. Spend more time at work, surfing with the T1.

8. Take a vacation to someplace important: like, to see the largest ball of twine.

9. Not jump off a cliff just because everyone else did.

10. Stop bringing lunch from home: I should eat out more.

11. Not have eight children at once.

12. Get in a whole NEW rut!

13. Start being superstitious.

14. Personal goal: bring back disco.

15. Not wrestle with Jesse Ventura.

16. Not bet against the Minnesota Vikings.

17. Buy an '83 El dorado and invest in a really loud stereo system. Get the windows tinted. Buy some fur for the dash.

18. Speak in a monotone voice and only use monosyllabic words.

19. Only wear jeans that are 2 sizes too small and use a chain or rope for a belt. Only wear white T-shirts with those fashionable yellow stains under the arms.

20. Spend my summer vacation in Cyberspace.

21. Not eat cloned meat.

22. Create loose ends.

23. Get more toys.

24. Get further in debt.

25. Not believe George Bush.

26. Break at least one traffic law.

27. Not drive a motorized vehicle across thin ice.

28. Avoid transmission of inter-species diseases.

29. Avoid airplanes that spontaneously drop 1000 feet.

30. Stay off the MIR space station.

31. Not worry that the Y2K bug will cause the end of the world.

32. Get wired with high-speed net connections at home.

33. Not swim with piranhas or sharks.

34. Associate with even worse business clients.

35. Spread out priorities beyond my ability to keep track of them.

36. Not take spaceship rides behind comets.

37. Not try to escape from a maximum security prison.

38. Wait around for opportunity.

39. Focus on the faults of others.

40. Mope about my faults.

41. Never make New Year's resolutions again.

With the Christmas season approaching, please look into your heart to help those in need. Hundreds of National Basketball Association basketball players in our very own country are living at or just below the seven-figure salary level (Atrocious!). And, as if that weren't bad enough, they will be deprived of pay for several weeks-possibly a whole year-as a result of the current lock-out situation.

But now, you can help!

For only $20,835 a month, about $694.50 a day (that's less than the cost of a large screen projection TV) you can help a basketball player remain economically viable during his time of need.

This contribution by no means solves the problem, as it barely covers the yearly league minimum, but it's a start! Almost $700 may not seem like a lot of money to you, but to a basketball player it could mean the difference between a vacation spent golfing in Florida or a Mediterranean cruise. For you, seven hundred dollars is nothing more than two months rent or mortgage payments. But to a basketball player, $700 will almost replace his daily salary. Your commitment of less than $700 a day will enable a player to buy that home entertainment center, trade in the year-old Lexus for a new Ferrari, or enjoy a weekend in Rio.

HOW WILL I KNOW I'M HELPING? Each month, you will receive a complete financial report on the player you sponsor. Detailed information about his stocks, bonds, 401(k), real estate, and other investment holdings will be mailed to your home. You'll also get information on how he plans to invest the $5 million lump sum he will receive upon retirement. Plus upon signing up for this program, you will receive a photo of the player (unsigned - for a signed photo, please include an additional $50.00). Put the photo on your refrigerator to remind you of other peoples' suffering.

HOW WILL HE KNOW I'M HELPING? Your basketball player will be told that he has a SPECIAL FRIEND who just wants to help in a time of need. Although the player won't know your name, he will be able to make collect calls to your home via a special operator just in case additional funds are needed for unexpected expenses.

YES, I WANT TO HELP! I would like to sponsor a striking NBA basketball player.

My preference is checked below:
[ ] Starter
[ ] Reserve
[ ] Star (Higher cost)
[ ] Superstar (Much higher cost)
[ ] Entire team (Please call our 900 number to ask for the cost of a specific team (Cheerleaders not included.))
[ ] I'll sponsor a player most in need. Please select one for me.

Please charge the account listed below $694.50 per day for a reserve player or starter for the duration of the strike. Please send me a picture of the player I have sponsored, along with a team logo and my very own NBA Players Association badge to wear proudly on my lapel.

Your Name: _______________________
Telephone Number: _______________________
Account Number: _____________________ Exp.Date:_______
[ ] MasterCard [ ] Visa [ ] American Express [ ] Discover

Signature: _______________________

Mail completed form to NBA Players Association or call 1-900-2MUCH now to enroll by phone. Note: Sponsors are not permitted to contact the player they have sponsored, either in person or by other means including, but not limited to, telephone calls, letters, e-mail, or third parties. Keep in mind that the basketball player you have sponsored will be much too busy enjoying his free time, thanks to your generous donations. Contributions are not tax-deductible.

No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not completely rule out flying reindeer, which only Santa has ever seen.

There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. But since Santa doesn't appear to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total - 378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the difference time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest manmade vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull ten times the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214, 000 reindeer. This increases the payload - not even counting the weight of the sleigh - to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

353,000 tons traveling at 660 miles per second creates enormous air resistance - this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecrafts re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flames almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion - if Santa ever did deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dead now.

This allegedly is a true holiday story. Some sites suggest Richard Pence as the author, but I have yet to verify this.

DON'S MOM AND THE TURKEY

It all started in July at a grocery store promotion. "How large is this turkey?" the local grocery store asked. Guesses ran to 30 pounds or so, but actually it was 42 pounds. This was, needless to say, a "large" turkey. But in July, no one wanted the turkey, and it was put in the freezer till a more auspicious time. And so it came to pass that Mom was in the store just before the Holidays in 1994, and since she is a naturally talkative person, she struck up a conversation with the butcher at the counter.

"I need a kind of big turkey for my family coming," said Mom.

To which the butcher replied, "Well, if you are looking for a big turkey, I may have just the thing."

And he hauled out the 42- pound bird for Mom. "Nice big bird," said Mom, "but it would cost far too much for my fixed income budget."

"Here's the deal," said the friendly butcher. "I can't move this bird at all at the usual price. No one wants a bird this big, so tell you what I'll do. I'll sell you this turkey for 49 cents a pound."

Mom, being nobody's fool, thought that such a purchase would be entirely reasonable. After all, twenty bucks for a really BIG turkey would be a reasonable price. And besides, of such stuff are Really Neat Family Legends made. (Little did she know.) "Sold," said Mom.

It took four days to thaw out. I showed up in Fargo two days before, and Mom was all a-twitter with ideas for how to put on a family dinner tour de force. We are talking "major" stuffing here. And so, off we went to the various stores to purchase dinner-making stuff. Let me point out something important here. No one makes a roasting bag to handle a 40 pound turkey. And few roasters can handle it either. So we bought one of those nifty open aluminum roasting pans, figuring to cover it with, oh, an acre or two of aluminum foil.

But there were some other interesting engineering problems to deal with. Like how to lift it. "No problem," said Mom, "we'll just get some cheesecloth, wrap the bird in a kind of sling, and lift it that way."

Elegant solution. Mom, methinks, has missed her true calling of engineer. And so, the Night Before, figuring we'd need a really long cooking time, we stuffed, slung, positioned, covered, vented the bird, and popped it in the oven at about 1:30 a.m. And so to bed, for a long winter's nap. Wrong.

At 3:15 a.m., I heard my Mom calling my name. Now you have to understand, when things are going well, I am "Don" to everyone, including Mom. But when that is not the case, I become "Donald." And Mom has a special way of saying Donald. "Donald," she said, "oh, Donald!" I responded groggily.

"What? Whatsamatter?" I know Mom, and waking folks at 3:15 a.m. is just not her style.

"Donald," she said, "we have a problem."

"What," I responded, "problem do we have?"

"Our turkey is running over," said Mom. The shift from "the" turkey to "our" turkey was subtly done, in retrospect. At the time, it was effective. This was now a joint crisis. For those who do not see such things clearly, it turns out that turkeys, in the process of cooking, release large quantities of juices, which for normal birds often later becomes gravy. For this bird, it had become a flood, and had overflowed the all-too- shallow roasting pan into the bottom of a hot oven. Smoke. Small apartment. Smoke detectors at 3:16 a.m., roughly corresponding to opening the oven door.

And cleaning turkey juices from the bottom of a hot oven at 3:19 a.m. is No Easy Thing, I can assure you. Many towels, not of the paper variety. Even some other cloth materials I still do not recognize. Mom is ready for any crisis of spill, it seems. And so it got cleaned up. The towels got put in the washer at about 3:30 a.m., the fans blew the smoke out of the apartment. The smoke detectors got reset, and so to bed, for an altogether shorter winter's nap. Wrong again.

The turkey overflowed again at 5:20 a.m. Same scenario, in all relevant ways. We tried to suck up some of the juices from the roaster, but the turkey baster bulb was bad, and wouldn't create a vacuum. Smoke alarms, much general good-natured grousing, and Mom standing around saying gratuitous things like "If I had known this would happen, I never would have bought that darned turkey." There is no way an eldest son can respond to that appropriately, other than with variations on a theme of, "Oh, it's all right, Mom. This is just Another Neat Adventure on the Road of Life, and Someday We'll All Laugh At This Together."

So we each played our preordained roles in the crisis, and by that time, it was time to shower and shave and get ready for the siblings, grandchildren, etc., and just hang out. By about 11:30 a.m., the tiny kitchen was crowded with sisters, each moving in a mysterious choreography, getting in each other's way, using the Very Dish That I Needed for things like glorified rice and other holiday dishes, and the general buzz of Big Holiday Meal Preparation. And when the time came to lift the bird, out it came in Mom's cheesecloth sling, just as nice as you please, and if I do say so myself, it looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting on its platter.

Much frenetic activity followed, including the required Making of the Gravy from what remained of the copious turkey juices in the bottom of the pan. Mom is not one of your cornstarch gravy people. She does a flour paste, mixing it thoroughly and putting it in a bowl, thereafter to be stirred into the gravy juices for several minutes, and it really is quite wonderful.

Now I have to tell you, I was standing right there, and I don't know how it happened. But somehow, the white glass bowl with the flour/water mixture in it ended up on top of the stove. On a burner. Which was on. The bowl was opaque white glass, not Pyrex, and not made for this kind of insult. And the bowl exploded. I don't mean cracked and fell apart, I mean "exploded," with a loud bang, and the throwing waist-high of glass splinters mixed with flour and water all around the kitchen, including onto the aforementioned hot burner, which promptly gave off a cloud of smoke, setting off the aforementioned smoke alarms yet again, which caused the smallest children to panic and cry -- well, you get the idea.

Rising (well, stooping actually) to the occasion, I: a. turned off the burner; b. threw everyone out of the kitchen; c. disconnected the smoke alarm; d. opened the windows; e. started to clean up the mess. Mom had been standing there all this time, watching this happen with an air of almost mystic detachment. I was looking directly at her when she recovered her equanimity. "Darn!," said Mom, "That was my last flour. I'll have to go to the store and get some more."

And she put her coat on and out the door she went. Leaving yours truly to once again reorganize the scene. And when she got back with flour, about 15 minutes later, all was again In Order, and the day progressed more or less uneventfully.

The dinner was magnificent. The quantity and quality of the leftovers were astonishing. It was, in every possible way, An Event of Significance. But (you may already have surmised) it was Not Yet Over.

Afterwards, the sisters took over the kitchen, cleaning everything up and generally fulfilling the role of Dutiful Daughters (no sexism implied, as I had already fulfilled the role of Dutiful Son for most of the previous long winter's night), packing the dishwasher, putting stuff away, etc. And, as it turned out, Turning On the Self-Cleaning Oven.

Now, for those not familiar with the technology, SCOs heat themselves up to a relatively high temperature, lock themselves (this is important) with a solenoid so that no one can open them again, then heat WAY up and literally burn the stuff off the inside, reducing it to a fine ash that can easily be wiped out or even sucked out with a small vacuum cleaner. Remember the turkey juice that had overflowed? Well, there was still a fair amount of it left on the bottom of the oven. We had not gotten around to sponging it out, and the late-arriving sister didn't know that needed to be done. So, oven REALLY hot and locked, turkey juice on the bottom, and a vent for excess heat. Smoke.

Not just a little smoke; we are talking SMOKE here -- billows of smoke, clouds of acrid smoke, really serious smoke. And the aforementioned smoke alarms, causing little children to panic and cry. Open windows, and smoke billows out. Open doors to hallway, and smoke fills the entire apartment complex. Which, of course, has its own smoke alarms and automatic fire department call relays. And we can't open the oven, which takes a while to cool down, and still pours smoke out the vents. So, smoke, alarms, neighbors, fire department folks. We gave them all some fudge, put fans in the windows, and assured everyone that The Situation is Temporary and Really Under Control.

Mom moved wraith-like through it all, and kept saying "Boy, we're going to remember this one for a long time."

20 Ways To Confuse Santa Claus

1. Instead of milk and cookies, leave him a salad, and a note explaining that you think he could stand to lose a few pounds.

2. While he's in the house, go find his sleigh and write him a speeding ticket.

3. Leave him a note, explaining that you've gone away for the holidays. Ask if he would mind watering your plants.

4. While he's in the house, replace all his reindeer with exact replicas. Then wait and see what happens when he tries to get them to fly.

5. Keep an angry bull in your living room. If you think a bull goes crazy when he sees a little red cape, wait until he sees that big, red Santa suit!

6. Build an army of mean-looking snowmen on the roof, holding signs that say "We hate Christmas," and "Go away Santa."

7. Leave a note by the telephone, telling Santa that Mrs. Claus called and wanted to remind him to pick up some milk and a loaf of bread on his way home.

8. Throw a surprise party for Santa when he comes down the chimney. Refuse to let him leave until the strippers arrive.

9. While he's in the house, find the sleigh and sit in it. As soon as he comes back and sees you, tell him that he shouldn't have missed that last payment, and take off.

10. Leave a plate filled with cookies and a glass of milk out, with a note that says, "For The Tooth Fairy. :-)" Leave another plate out with half a stale cookie and a few drops of skim milk in a dirty glass with a note that says, "For Santa. :-("

11. Take everything out of your house as if it's just been robbed. When Santa arrives, show up dressed like a policeman and say, "Well, well. They always return to the scene of the crime."

12. Leave out a copy of your Christmas list with last-minute changes and corrections.

13. While he's in the house, cover the top of the chimney with barbed wire.

14. Leave lots of hunting trophies and guns out where Santa's sure to see them. Go outside, yell, "Ooh! Look! A deer! And he's got a red nose!" and fire a gun.

15. Leave Santa a note, explaining that you've moved. Include a map with unclear and hard-to-read directions to your new house.

16. Set a bear trap at the bottom of the chimney. Wait for Santa to get caught in it, and then explain that you're sorry, but from a distance, he looked like a bear.

17. Leave out a Santa suit, with a dry-cleaning bill.

18. Paint "hoof-prints" all over your face and clothes. While he's in the house, go out on the roof. When he comes back up, act like you've been "trampled." Threaten to sue.

19. Instead of ornaments, decorate your tree with Easter eggs.

20. Dress up like the Easter Bunny. Wait for Santa to come and then say, "This neighborhood ain't big enough for the both of us."

Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and nothing was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the cookies. The elves were complaining about not getting paid for the overtime they had while making the toys. The reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were dead drunk. To make matters worse, they had taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and had crashed it into a tree.

Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours - all of my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid Little Angel out hours ago to find a tree and he isn't even back yet! What am I going to do?"

Just then, the Little Angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree. He says "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?"

Thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas trees came to pass.

A Cat's Top Ten Favorite Christmas Songs

10. Up on the Mousetop

9. Have Yourself a Furry Little Christmas

8. Joy to the Curled

7. I Saw Mommy Hiss at Santa Claus

6. The First Meow

5. Oh, Come All Ye Fishful

4. Silent Mice

3. Fluffy, the Snowman

2. Jingle Balls

1. Wreck the Halls!

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat troll, I've been saving your ass every year, being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in December and dressing in fake Chanel at sappy tea parties. I hate to break it to you Santa, but it's pay back time. There had better be some changes around here, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown, and trust me, you don't wanna be around to smell it. These are my demands for Christmas 1998:

1. Sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker in hot pink bikinis. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro up your butt? I don't suppose you do.

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. That cheap-o molded underwear some genius at Mattel came up with looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man... I don't care if you have to go to Hasbro to get him, bring me GI JOE. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that pathetic bump of a boytoy Ken. And what was up with that earring anyway? HELLO!?

4. It's about time you made us all anatomically correct. Give me arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. 'Nuff said.

6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher don't cut it. I want to make real money.

8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips.

9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl complexion.

10. Mattel stock options. It's been 39 years - I think I deserve a piece of the action.

Considering my valuable contribution to society and Mattel, I think these demands are reasonable. If you you don't like it you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.

As ever,
Barbie

Ken's Letter To Santa:

Dear Santa,

It has come to my attention that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes.  In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my sexuality, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of issues concerning Ms. Barbie, as well as some of my own needs and desires.

First, I, along with several of my colleagues, feel Ms. Barbie DOES NOT deserve the preferential treatment she has received over the years. That bitch has everything. Neither I, nor Joe, Jem, nor The Raggedys, Ann & Andy, have dream houses, Corvettes, dune buggies, evening gowns,and some of us do not even have the ability to change our hairstyle. I have had a limited wardrobe, obviously designed to complement but never upstage Ms. Barbie. My decision to accessorize with an earring was immediately quashed, which I protest for it was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.

I would like a change in my career to further explore my creative nature. Some options which could be considered are "Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Broadway Ken". Other avenues which could be considered are: "Go-Go Ken", "Impersonator Ken" (with wigs and gowns), or "West Hollywood Ken". These would more accurately reflect my interests and, I believe, open up markets that have been undeserved.

As for Ms. Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me away", I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb. Bendable knees would also be helpful in other situations of which you are aware.

In closing, further concessions to the Blonde Bimbo from Hell while the needs of others within my coalition are ignored will result in legal action by myself and others.

And kindly tell Ms. Barbie she can forget about G.I. Joe. He's mine - at least that's what he said last night.

Sincerely,
Ken

Can you imagine working at the following Company?

It has a little over 500 employees with the following statistics:

29 have been accused of spousal abuse

7 have been arrested for fraud

19 have been accused of writing bad checks

117 have bankrupted at least two businesses

3 have been arrested for assault

71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit

14 have been arrested on drug-related charges

8 have been arrested for shoplifting

21 are current defendants in lawsuits

In 1998 alone, 84 were stopped for drunk driving

Can you guess which organization this is? Give up?

It's the 535 members of your United States Congress. The same group that perpetually cranks out hundreds upon hundreds of new laws designed to keep the rest of us in line.

One night, George Bush was awakened by George Washington's ghost in the White House. Bush saw him and asked, "George, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?"

"Set an honest and honorable example, just as I did," advised Washington.

The next night, the ghost of Thomas Jefferson moved through the dark bedroom. "Tom, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" Bush asked.

"Cut taxes and reduce the size of government," advised Tom.

Bush didn't sleep well the next night, and saw another figure moving in the shadows. It was Abraham Lincoln's ghost. "Abe, what is the best thing I could do to help the country?" Bush asked.

"Go to the theater."

A man, about to undergo an IRS audit, asked his accountant for advice on what to wear. "Wear your shabbiest clothing. Let them think you are a pauper."

Then he asked his legal counsel the same question, but got the opposite advice. "Do not let them intimidate you. Wear your finest suit and tie."

Utterly confused at this point, the man went to his rabbi, told him of the conflicting advice, and requested some resolution of his dilemma. "Let me tell you a story," replied the rabbi. "A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. 'Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck.' But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice. 'Wear your most sexy negligee, with a V neck right down to your navel.'"

The man protested: "Rabbi, what does all this have to do with my problem with the IRS?"

"Don't you see? It doesn't matter what you wear my son! Either way, the results will be the same."

These are sentences taken from actual letters, received by the Toronto Welfare Department, from applications for aid and assistance.

I am forwarding my marriage certificate and six children. I have seven but one died and was baptised on a half sheet of paper.

I am writing to the Welfare Department to say that my baby was born two years old. When do I get my money?

I cannot get sick pay. I have six children. Can you tell me why?

This is my eighth child. What are you going to do about it?

Please find out for certain if my husband is dead. The man I am living with cannot eat or do anything until he finds out.

In answer to your letter, I have given birth to a boy weighing 10 pounds. I hope this is satisfactory.

My husband had his project cut off two weeks ago, and I haven't had any relief since.

I haven't had any children as yet, as my husband is a bus driver and works night and day.

Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken, the Secret Service mobilised and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hulk left smoldering in a tree line that bordered a farm. Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk but could find no remains of the crew or the President's staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was plowing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to surround the man's tractor.

"Sir," the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath. "Did you see this terrible accident happen?"

"Yep. Sure did," the man muttered unconcernedly.

"Do you realise that is the US President's airplane?"

"Yep."

"Were there any survivors?" the agent gasped.

"Nope. They's all kilt straight out," the farmer sighed, cutting off his tractor motor.

"I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning."

"The President of the United States is dead?" The agent gulped in disbelief.

"Well," the farmer sighed, obviously wanting to get back to his work. "He kept a-saying he wasn't, but you know what a liar he is."

A lady bought a new Lexus. Cost a bundle. Two days later, she brought it back, complaining that the radio was not working. "Madam", said the sales manager, "the audio system in this car is completely automatic. All you need to do is tell it what you want to listen to, and you will hear exactly that!"

She drove out, somewhat amazed and a little confused. She looked at the radio and said "Nelson". The radio responded, "Ricky or Willie?" Soon, she was speeding down the highway to the sounds of "On the Road Again". The lady was astounded. If she wanted Beethoven, that's what she got. If she wanted Nat King Cole, she got it.

At a traffic light, it turned green and she pulled out. Off to her right, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small sports utility vehicle speeding toward her. She swerved and narrowly missed a head-on collision. "Asshole", she muttered.

And, from the radio: "Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States..."

The following extracts are perfectly genuine, taken from actual letters sent to the Dept of Health & Social Security. Although rather crude they are written in good faith by the senders:

Our lavatory seat is broken in half and is now in three pieces.

Can you please tell me when our repairs are going to be done as my wife is about to become an expectant mother.

I want some repairs doing to my cooker as it backfired and burnt my knob off.

The toilet is blocked and we can't bath the children until it is cleared.

The man next door has a large erection in his back garden which is unsightly and dangerous.

Will you please send someone to mend our broken path as my wife tripped and fell on it and she is now pregnant.

Our kitchen floor is very damp and we have two children and we would like a third so will you please send somebody round to do something about it.

Would you please repair our toilet. My son pulled the chain and the box fell on his head.

Mrs. Smith has no clothes and has had none for over a year. The clergy have been visiting her...

In reply to your letter, I have already cohabited with your officer with no results so far.

I am pleased to inform you that my husband who was reported missing, is dead.

Mrs. Adams has asked me to collect her money as she is going in to hospital to have her overtures out.

Sir, I am forwarding my marriage certificate and two children - one of which is a mistake as you will see.

My husband is diabetic and has to take insolence regular but finds he is lethargic to it.

Unless I get my husbands maintenance money soon I shall be obliged to live an immortal life.

The children have been off school because there is a lot of measles about and I had them humanised.

Please forward my money at once as I have fallen into errors with my landlord and milkman.

You have changed my little boy into a little girl. Will this matter?

Mrs Brown only THINKS she's ill, but believe me she is nothing but a hypodermic.

In accordance with your instructions I have given birth to twins in the enclosed envelope.

I want my sick pay quick. I have been in bed under the doctor for a week and he is doing me no good. If things don't improve I shall get another doctor.

I do not get any money from my son. He is in the army and his regiment is at present manuring on Salisbury plain.

Milk is wanted for my baby and the father is unable to supply it.

Re your dental enquiry. The teeth on top are alright but those on my bottom are hurting dreadfully.

I am very annoyed to find you have branded my son illiterate. This is a lie as I married his father a week before he was born.

I am sorry I omitted to put down all my children's names. This was due to contraceptional circumstances.

I wish to complain that my father hurt his ankle very badly when he put his foot in the hole in his back passage.

The lavatory is blocked. This is caused by the boys next door throwing their balls on the roof.

This is to let you know there is a smell coming from man next door.

The toilet seat is cracked - where do I stand?

The man in the blue J.C. Penney suit had fallen between the rails in a subway station. People were all crowding around vainly trying to get him out before the train ran him over. Everyone was shouting, "Give me your hand!" Alas, the man would not reach up.

Suddenly, Baba Ben Bebo, the wise guru, elbowed his way through the crowd and leaned over the man. "Friend," he asked with compassion, "What is your profession?"

"I am an income tax inspector," gasped the man in the blue suit.

"Please sir, take my hand," said Ben Bebo.

The man immediately grasped the guru's hand and was quickly pulled to safety.

Ben Bebo then turned to the amazed bystanders and said, "Never ask a tax man to give you anything, my friends."

The last four U.S. Presidents are caught in a tornado, and off they spin to Oz. After threatening trials and tribulations, they finally make it to the Emerald City and come before the Great Wizard.

"What brings you before the great wizard? What do you want?"

Jimmy Carter steps forward timidly: "I had a terrible time with Iran, so I've come for some courage."

"No problem," says the Wizard, "Who is next?"

Ronald Reagan steps forward, "Well... well... well... I need a brain."

"Done," says the Wizard. "Who comes next before the Great Wizard?"

Up steps George Bush, sadly, "I'm told by the American people that I need a heart."

"I've heard it's true," says the Wizard. "Consider it done."

Then there is a great silence.

Bill Clinton is just standing there, looking around, but doesn't say a word.

Irritated, the Wizard finally asks, "What brings you to emerald city?"

"Is Dorothy around?"

See how many of these you know, and no, Bill Clinton is not the correct answer for more than 2 of them.

1. Which president smoked marijuana with a nude playgirl while he joked about being too wasted to "push the button" in case of nuclear attack?

2. Which president allegedly had affairs with both a winner and a finalist in the Miss America pageant?

3. Which president had sex with one of his secretaries stretched out atop a desk in the oval office?

4. Which president allegedly had an affair (as well as children) with a slave who was his wife's half sister?

5. Which president called his mistress "Pookie"?

6. Which president married a woman who hadn't yet divorced her first husband, and was branded an "adulterer" during his reelection campaign?

7. Which future president wrote love letters to his neighbour's wife while he was engaged to someone else?

8. Which president had a torrid affair with the first lady's personal secretary?

9. Which president had sex with a young woman in a White House coat closet - at one point, while a secret service agent prevented the hysterical first lady from attacking them?

10. Which president had sex in a closet while telling his partner about the other president who did the same in a closet (the one in Question 9)?

11. Which vice president was ticked off because he felt that HIS record of sexual conquests was more impressive than the President's?

12. Which future president, while a college student, enjoyed showing off his penis, which he named Jumbo?

ANSWERS

1. John F. Kennedy
2. Bill Clinton
3. Lyndon B. Johnson
4. Thomas Jefferson
5. Bill Clinton
6. Andrew Jackson
7. George Washington
8. Franklin D. Roosevelt
9. Warren G. Harding
10. John F. Kennedy
11. Lyndon B. Johnson
12. Lyndon B. Johnson

There was a postal worker whose job it was to process all the mail that had illegible addresses. One day, a letter came to his desk, addressed in a shaky handwriting, to God. He thought he should open it to see what it was about.

He opened it and read:

Dear God,

I am an 83-year-old widow, living on a very small pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100 in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension check. Next Sunday is Christmas, and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to, and you are my only hope. Can you please help me?

Sincerely,
Edna

The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to all of the workers. Each of them dug into his wallet and came up with a few dollars. By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96, which they put into an envelope and sent to the woman.

The rest of the day, all of the workers felt a warm glow for the kind thing they had done.

Christmas came and went. A few days later, another letter came from the old lady, addressed to God. All of the workers gathered around while the letter was opened.

It read:

Dear God,

How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your gift of love, I was able to fix a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day, and I told my friends of your wonderful gift.

By the way, there was $4 missing. I think it must have been those thieving bastards at the Post Office.

Sincerely,
Edna

A penny saved is a Congressional oversight.

Born free. Taxed to death.

Crime wouldn't pay if the government ran it.

Democracy: Four wolves and a lamb voting on lunch.

Don't steal - The government hates competition.

IRS: We've got what it takes to take what you've got.

Jack Kevorkian for White House Physician.

Join the Army, meet interesting people, kill them.

Jury -- Twelve people who determine which client has the better lawyer.

Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math.

Stop repeat offenders. Don't re-elect.

Sure you can trust the government! Just ask an Indian!

Taxation WITH representation isn't so hot, either!

War never decides who is right, only who is left.

When you do a good deed, get a receipt-in case heaven is like the IRS.

When you go into court you are putting yourself in the hands of 12 people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty.

White water... It's all over when the First Lady sings.

You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be misquoted, then used against you.

"Criminal Lawyer" is redundancy.

HONK! If you had sex with the President

Adultery is not a family value

Al Gore: One heartthrob from the Presidency

Does character matter YET?

One More Whore And We Get Gore

My President Fooled Around with Your Honor Student

Bill Clinton: Commander in Heat

The Clinton Creed: Take Credit Not Responsibility

Today kids no longer play doctor, they play President

Clinton: Our Nation's Fondling Father

If his private life doesn't matter, let him date your daughter.

Save the President: Legalise Perjury

Scientists at NASA have developed a gun built specifically to launch dead chickens at the windshields of airliners, military jets and the space shuttle, all traveling at maximum velocity. The idea is to simulate the frequent incidents of collisions with airborne fowl to test the strength of the windshields.

British engineers heard about the gun and were eager to test it on the windshields of their new high speed trains. Arrangements were made. But when the gun was fired, the engineers stood shocked as the chicken hurtled out of the barrel, crashed into the shatterproof shield, smashed it to smithereens, crashed through the control console, snapped the engineer's backrest in two and embedded itself in the back wall of the cabin.

Horrified Britons sent NASA the disastrous results of the experiment, along with the designs of the windshield, and begged the U.S. scientists for suggestions.

NASA's response was just one sentence: "Thaw the chicken."

Four strangers traveled together in the same compartment of a European train. Two men and two women faced each other. One woman was a very wealthy and sophisticated 70-year-old lady who was decked out in the finest of furs and jewelry. Next to her sat a beautiful young woman, nineteen years old, who looked like something right off the cover of a fashion magazine. Across from the older lady was a very mature looking man in his mid-forties who was a highly decorated Sergeant Major in the Army. And next to the Sergeant Major sat a young private fresh out of boot camp.

As these four strangers traveled, they talked and chatted about trivial things until they entered an unlighted tunnel, and there they sat in complete darkness and total silence, until the sound of a distinct kiss broke the silence; following the kiss a loud slap could be heard throughout the cabin. In the ensuing period of silence the four strangers sat quietly with their own thoughts.

The older lady was thinking, "Isn't it wonderful that even in this permissive day and age there are still young women who have a little self-respect and dignity?"

The young woman, shaking her head and greatly puzzled, asked herself, "Why in the world would any man in his right mind want to kiss an old fossil like that when I'm sitting here?"

The Sergeant Major, rubbing his sore face, was outraged that any woman could ever think that a man in his position would try to sneak a kiss in the dark.

The private, grinning from ear to ear, was thinking, "What a crazy and mixed up world this is when a private can kiss the back of his hand and then smack a Sergeant Major in the face and get away with it!"

To the citizens of the United States of America:

In the light of your failure to elect a proper President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today. Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories. Except Utah, which she does not fancy. Your new prime minister (The Right Honourable Tony Blair, MP for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a minister for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up "aluminium". Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it. The letter "U" will be reinstated in words such as "favour" and "neighbour." Skipping the letter "U" is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell "doughnut" without skipping half the letters. You will end your love affair with the letter "Z" (pronounced "zed," not "zee") and the suffix "ize" will be replaced by the suffix "ise". You will learn that the suffix "burgh" is pronounced "burra," e.g. Edinburgh. You are welcome to respell Pittsburgh as "Pittsberg" if you can't cope with correct pronunciation. Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up "vocabulary". Using the same twenty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "like" and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. Look up "interspersed." There will be no more "bleeps" in the Jerry Springer show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary then you won't have to use bad language as often.

2. There is no such thing as "US English." We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter "u" and the elimination of "-ize".

3. You should learn to distinguish the English and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. English accents are not limited to Cockney, upper-class twit or Mancunian (Daphne in Frasier). You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents - Scottish dramas such as "Taggart" will no longer be broadcast with subtitles. While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is "Devon". If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become "shires" e.g. Texasshire, Floridashire, Louisianashire.

4. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast English actors to play English characters. British sitcoms such as "Men Behaving Badly" or "Red Dwarf" will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness.

5. You should relearn your original national anthem, "God Save The Queen", but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

6. You should stop playing American "football". There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American "football" is not a very good game. The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays "American" football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football. Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American "football", but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full Kevlar body armour like nancies). We are hoping to get together at least a US rugby sevens side by 2008. You should stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the "World Series" for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. Instead of baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls' game called "rounders" which is baseball without fancy team strip, oversized gloves, collector cards or hot dogs.

7. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous in public than a vegetable peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

8. July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 2nd will be a new national holiday, but only in England. It will be called "Indecisive Day".

9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean. All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts. You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips. Fries aren't even French; they are Belgian, though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called "crisps". Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat. The traditional accompaniment to chips is beer which should be served warm and flat. Waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive with customers.

11. As a sign of penance 5 grams of sea salt per cup will be added to all tea made within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, this quantity to be doubled for tea made within the city of Boston itself.

12. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all, it is lager. From November 1st only proper British Bitter will be referred to as "beer", and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as "Lager". The substances formerly known as "American Beer" will henceforth be referred to as "Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine", with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser company whose product will be referred to as "Weak Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine". This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in Pilsen, Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.

13. From December 1st the UK will harmonise petrol (or "Gasoline" as you will be permitted to keep calling it until April 1st 2008) prices with the former USA. The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the Former USA will, in return, adopt UK petrol prices (roughly $6/US gallon - get used to it).

14. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

15. Please tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us crazy.

Tax collectors from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776).

Cheney and the Bushes are flying on Air Force One. Dick looks at George, chuckles and says, "You know, I could throw a $100 bill out the window right now and make one person very happy."

George shrugs his stiff shoulders and says, "Well, I could throw ten $10 bills out the window and make 10 people very happy."

Laura tosses her hair and says, "Of course, then, I could throw one-hundred $1 bills out the window and make a hundred people very happy."

Jenna rolls her eyes, looks at all of them and says, "I could throw all of you out the window and make the whole country happy."

(Ed. note - As if Jenna would be that smart.)

1. Always put staples in the right hand corner. Go ahead and put them down the whole right side. The extractors who remove the mail from the envelopes have to take out any staples on the right side.

2. Never arrange paperwork in the right order, or even facing the right way. Put a few upside down and backwards. That way they have to remove all your staples, rearrange your paperwork and re-staple it (on the left side).

3. Line the bottom of your envelope with Elmer's glue and let it dry before you put in you forms, so that the automated opener doesn't open it and the extractor has to open it by hand.

4. If you're very unfortunate and have to pay taxes, send two or three party check. On top of paying with a third party check, pay one of the dollars you owe in cash. When an extractor receives cash, no matter how small an amount, he has to take it to a special desk and fill out of few nasty forms.

5. Write a little letter of appreciation. Any letter received has to be read and stamped regardless of what it is or what it's on.

6. Write your letter on something misshapen and unconventional. Like on the back of a supermarket sack.

7. When you mail it, mail it in a big envelope (even if it's just a single EZ form). Big envelopes have to be torn and sorted differently than regular business size ones. An added bonus to the big envelope is that they take priority over other mail, so the workers can hurry up and deal with your mess.

8. If you send two checks, they'll have to staple your unsightly envelope to your half destroyed form.

9. Always put extra paper clips on your forms. Any foreign fasteners or the like have to be removed and put away.

10. Sign your name in ink on every page. Any signature has to be verified and then date stamped.

11. Pay your tax in coins. They have to accept it, even if it's all in pennies.

These are just a few of the fun and exciting things you can do with the IRS. These methods are ONLY recommended when you OWE money. If they owe you money, being nice helps.

'Top 30 Signs Your HMO is Cutting Corners':

1. Pedal-powered dialysis machines.

2. Use of antibiotics deemed an 'unauthorized experimental procedure.'

3. Head-wound victim in the waiting room is on the last chapter the copy of 'War and Peace' he bought in the gift shop.

4. You ask for Viagra. You get a popsicle stick and duct tape.

5. Annual breast exam conducted at Hooters.

6. Exam room has a tip jar.

7. You swear you saw salad tongs and a crab fork on the instrument tray just before the anesthesia kicked in.

8. 'Will you be paying in eggs or pelts?'

9. Tight budget prevents acquisition of separate rectal thermometers.

10. 'Take two leeches and call me in the morning.'

11. The company logo features a hand squeezing a bleeding turnip.

12. Tongue depressors taste faintly of Fudgesicle.

13. Covered postnatal care consists of leaving your baby on Mia Farrow's doorstep.

14. Radiation treatment for cancer patients requires them to walk around with a postcard from Chernobyl in their pocket.

15.'Pre-natal vitamin' prescription is a box of Tic-Tacs.

16. Chief Surgeon graduated from University of Benihana.

17. Directions to your doctor's office include, 'take a left when you enter the trailer park.'

18. Doctor listens to your heart through a paper towel tube.

19. Only item listed under Preventive Care feature of coverage is 'an apple a day.'

20. Check-out nurse calculates bill on pedal-operated computers running software off vinyl LPs and printing on steam-powered printer.

21. Only proctologist in the plan is 'Gus' from Roto-Rooter.

22. Plan covers only 'group' gynecological exams.

23. Preprinted prescription pads that say 'Walk it off, Nancy-boy.'

24. To avoid a time consuming and expensive throat culture, the doctor just French kisses you.

25. Recycled bandages.

26. You can get your flu shot as soon as 'the' hypodermic needle is dry.

27. Your 'primary care physician' is wearing the pants you gave to Goodwill last month.

28. 24-hour claims line is 1-800-TUF-LUCK.

29. Costly MRI equipment efficiently replaced by an oversized 2-sided copier.

30. Enema? The lavatory faucet swivels to face upward. The obvious clue is that it's an HMO, of which the definition is "corner-cutter."

"I was recently on a tour of Latin America, and the only regret I have was that I didn't study Latin harder in school so I could converse with those people."

"If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure."

"Democrats understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child."

"Welcome to President Clinton, Mrs. Clinton, and my fellow astronauts."

"Mars is essentially in the same orbit... Mars is somewhat the same distance from the Sun, which is very important. We have seen pictures where there are canals, we believe, and water. If there is water, that means there is oxygen. If oxygen, that means we can breathe."

"What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is."

"The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation's history. I mean in this century's history. But we all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century."

"I believe we are on an irreversible trend toward more freedom and democracy - but that could change."

"One word sums up probably the responsibility of any vice president, and that one word is 'to be prepared.'"

"Verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things."

"I have made good judgments in the past. I have made good judgments in the future."

"The future will be better tomorrow."

"We're going to have the best-educated American people in the world."

"People that are really very weird can get into sensitive positions and have a tremendous impact on history."

"I stand by all the misstatements that I've made."

"We have a firm commitment to NATO, we are a part of NATO. We have a firm commitment to Europe. We are a part of Europe."

"Public speaking is very easy."

"I am not part of the problem. I am a Democrat."

"A low voter turnout is an indication of fewer people going to the polls."

"When I have been asked who caused the riots and the killings in L.A., my answer has been direct and simple: Who is to blame for the riots? The rioters are to blame. Who is to blame for the killings? The killers are to blame."

"Illegitimacy is something we should talk about in terms of not having it."

"We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur."

"For NASA, space is still a high priority."

"Quite frankly, teachers are the only profession that teach our children."

"[It's] time for the human race to enter the solar system."

"We're all capable of mistakes, but I do not care to enlighten you on the mistakes we may or may not have made."

"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it."

"The American people would not want to know of any misquotes that Al Gore may or may not make."

Titanic Video: $9.99 on Internet.
Clinton Video: $9.99 on Internet.

Titanic Video: Over 3 hours long.
Clinton Video: Over 3 hours long.

Titanic Video: The story of Jack and Rose, their forbidden love, a subsequent catastrophe.
Clinton Video: The story of Bill and Monica, their forbidden love, a subsequent catastrophe.

Titanic Video: Villain: White Star Line.
Clinton Video: Villain: Ken Starr.

Titanic Video: Jack is a starving artist.
Clinton Video: Bill is a B.S. artist.

Titanic Video: In one part, Jack enjoys a good cigar.
Clinton Video: Ditto for Bill.

Titanic Video: During ordeal, Rose's dress gets ruined.
Clinton Video: Ditto for Monica.

Titanic Video: Jack teaches Rose to spit.
Clinton Video: Let's not go there.

Titanic Video: Rose gets to keep her jewelry.
Clinton Video: Monica's forced to return her gifts.

Titanic Video: Behind the scenes: Leonardo DiCaprio is wildly popular.
Clinton Video: Behind the scenes: Bill Clinton's approval rating is at 70 percent.

Titanic Video: Jack surrenders to an icy death.
Clinton Video: Bill goes home to Hillary.

When someone puts in for Child  Support, the proper thing to do is find out who the father is and see why he is  not providing support. The following are all replies that  Dallas women have written on Child Support Agency forms in the section for listing father's details. Or putting it another way..... Who's your Daddy? These are genuine excerpts from the  forms. 

1. Regarding the identity of the  father of my twins, child A was fathered by Jim Munson. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of child B, but I believe that he was conceived on the same night.

2. I am unsure as to the identity of  the father of my child as I was being sick out of a window when taken unexpectedly from behind. I can provide you with a list of names of men that I think were at the party if this helps.

3. I do not know the name of the father of my little girl. She was conceived at a party at 3600 Grand Avenue where I had unprotected sex with a man I met that night. I do remember that the sex was so good that I fainted. If you do manage to track down the father, can you send me his phone number? Thanks.

4. I don't know the identity of the father of my daughter. He drives a BMW that now has a hole made by my stiletto in one of the door panels. Perhaps you can contact BMW service stations in this area and see if he's had it replaced.

5. I have never had sex with a man.  I am still a Virginian. I am awaiting a letter from the Pope confirming that my son's conception was immaculate and that he is Christ risen again.

6. I cannot tell you the name of child A's dad as he informs me that to do so would blow his cover and that would have cataclysmic implications for the economy. I am torn between doing right by you and right by the country. Please advise.

7. I do not know who the father of my child was as all blacks look the same to me. 

8. Peter Smith is the father of child A. If you do catch up with him, can you ask him what he did with my AC/DC  CDs? Child B who was also borned at the same time....well I don't have a clue.

9. From the dates it seems that my daughter was conceived at Disney World; maybe it really is the Magic Kingdom.

10. So much about that night is a blur. The only thing that I remember for sure is Delia Smith did a program about eggs earlier in the evening. If I'd have stayed in and watched more TV rather than going to the party at 146 Miller Drive, mine might have remained unfertilized.

11. I am unsure as to the identity of the father of my baby, after all when you eat a can of beans you can't be sure which one made you fart.