Lovinlife's Blog

HOW MANY DO WE NEED???? I'm so sick of getting 4-5 yellow pages dropped off by my mail box each year. Why do they deliver that many????? My whole road up and down is lined with them because nobody is bringing them in. ENOUGH ALREADY!  Fireplace, here we come!

>
> GEORGE CARLIN'S NEW RULES FOR 2008
>
>
> New Rule:
>
> No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings.
> Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking
> out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't
> gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.
>
> New Rule:
>
> Stop giving me that pop-up ad for classmates.com ! There's a reason
> you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly
> like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football
> team is doing these days --- mowing my lawn.
>
> New Rule:
>
> Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a
> seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found
> in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did
> you expect it to contain...Lobster?
>
> New Rule:
>
> Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde
> teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for
> these kids: 'Lucky bastards.'
>
> New Rule:
>
> If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're a
> dope. If you're a kid, the cards are keep sakes of your idols. If
> you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.
>
> New Rule:
>
> Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your
> eyebrows: Do you have two of them? Good, we're done.
>
> New Rule:
>
> There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this
> crap at the supermarket, water, but, without that watery taste. Sorry,
> but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water?
> Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.
>
> New Rule:
>
> Stop screwing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill
> bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the
> bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass
> will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the
> Social Security crisis.
>
> New Rule:
>
> The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the BLEEP. If
> you walk into a Starbucks and order a 'decaf grandee, half-soy,
> half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra
> dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low, and One NutraSweet,' ooooh,
> you're a huge BLEEP.
>
> New Rule:
>
> I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card,
> entering My PIN number, pressing 'Enter,' verifying the amount,
> deciding, no, I don't want Cash back, and pressing 'Enter' again, the
> kid who is supposed to be ringing me up Is standing there eating my
> Almond Joy.
>
> New Rule:
>
> Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you
> Spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates
> to 'beef with broccoli.' The last time you did anything spiritual, you
> were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're
> just high.
>
> New Rule:
>
> Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins.
> ESPN Recently televised the U.S Open of Competitive Eating, because
> watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned
> exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait, they're already
> doing that . It's called 'The Howard Stern Show.'
>
> New Rule:
>
> I don't need a bigger mega M&Ms. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go
> nuts and eat two.
>
> New Rule:
>
> If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy old
> television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a
> remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's
> remember the reason something was a television show in the first place
> is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie.
>
> New Rule:
>
> And this one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants. After I zip
> up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex
> with George Michael. I can't even tell If he's supposed to be there,
> or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your webcam,
> Dude. I just want to wash my hands!
>
> New Rule:
>
> If you ever hope to be a credible adult and want a job that pays
> better than Minimum wage, then for God's sake don't pierce or tattoo
> every available piece of flesh. If so, then plan your future around
> saying, 'Do you want fries with that?'

Anyone have one of those they want to borrow? I want to put up tons of lights this year but my husband is the ultimate scrooge and with the amount that I usually put up and with anticipation of what the electric bill will be I don't want him to drop dead on me. Why are men, well some men, so anal about decorating and holidays in general? It only comes once a year so I say GO FOR IT! I'm gonna..no matter what he says. I guess I'll have to recruit my sons like I do most years but I'll have to wait until they are done doing all their in-laws houses first because those men won't do it either. What's up with that??

Bless her heart. Where is she??? Today her mother, Casey, was indicted on murder charges which I for one was thrilled about. This woman has been telling lie after lie for over 4 months now. I know in my heart that she is gone but I do hope they find her body so there is some kind of closure for everyone who loved this little darling girl. As far as her mother is concerned I hope she rots in a cell right along with Scott Peterson & O.J. Simpson. They all make a great team.

What would possess a mother to kill her own child? I'll never understand that kind of mentality. Also, how can Cindy and George Anthony continue to be in denial and stand by her?? I just don't get it. God Bless her wherever she is~~

http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=966_1187636093 Why wasn't this ever aired?

http://getactive.peta.org/campaign/pamela_anderson
_general?c=kfcthba0708&qp_source=kfcthbas0708

I almost didn't want to watch this because I don't care much for Pamela, but it was truly an eye opening video. Don't think I'll ever look at KFC the same again. Absolutely we will never eat it again either.

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"></param><param

Brand New Harley

You might think I’m a banker, and on weekdays, it’s true
But underneath this poly-cotton blend is a skeleton tattoo
Which I got when I was drinking
And I’m showing off this weekend
On my brand new Harley-Davidson

I may work in an office and look respectable and clean
But you should see me dressed in leather on my American machine
You would swear that I’m blue-collar
On my 15-thousand dollar
Deluxe, brand new Harley-Davidson

Come Friday evening
I don’t shower, I don’t shave
And I put my little earring in
And it’s time to misbehave
Yes I will clean your teeth on Monday
Or put braces in your mouth
But don’t flash ‘em at me Sunday, boy
Or I just might knock them out

My psychologist, he told me that it’s important that I ride
So I recreate my warrior who is pent up nine to five
And it’s therapy for hours
On my fifteen-thousand dollar
Deluxe, brand new Harley-Davidson

I kick off my loafers
Put on my big black boots
And I swear and curse while I rehearse for
My nasty attitude
Yes I will do your taxes Tuesday
So you get some money back
But call me CPA on Saturday
And I’ll have to kick your ass

No I’m not in a costume, I’ll bet a junk bond I’m real
I am an archetypal man astride a stallion made of steel
I’m a rebel, I’m a gangster
I’m a whiskey-drinking prankster
On my brand new Harley-Davidson

[Editor’s Note:  Dr. Robert J. Hastings who died last year left an impressive legacy.  As a minister, pastor, editor, teacher, author, radio personality, columnist, and denominational leader, he cut a very wide swath, indeed.  His best known writing is presented here as my last salute to a friend whose acquaintance I first made when we were students together in seminary more than 50 years ago.  “The Station” has been printed in uncounted magazines, newspapers, and other publications and twice has been used in Ann Landers’ column.  Bob Hastings himself spoke of this brief essay as “my all-time favorite.”  It could well be one of yours as it certainly is of mine.]

    Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision in which we see ourselves on a long journey that spans an entire continent.  We're traveling by train and from the windows, we drink in the passing scenes of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at crossings, of cattle grazing in distant pastures, of smoke pouring from power plants, of row upon row of cotton and corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of city skylines and village halls.

    But uppermost in our minds is our final destination--for at a certain hour and on a given day our train will finally pull into the station with bells ringing, flags waving, and bands playing.  And once that day comes, so many wonderful dreams will come true.  So restlessly we pace the aisles and count the miles, peering ahead, waiting, waiting, waiting for the station. 

    "Yes, when we reach the station, that will be it!"  we promise ourselves.  "When we're eighteen...win that promotion...put the last kid through college...buy that 450 SL Mercedes Benz...pay off the mortgage...have a nest egg for retirement."

    From that day on we will all live happily ever after.

    Sooner or later, however, we must realize there is no station in this life, no one earthly place to arrive at once and for all.  The journey is the joy.  The station is an illusion--it constantly outdistances us.  Yesterday's a memory, tomorrow's a dream.  Yesterday belongs to history, tomorrow belongs to God.  Yesterday's a fading sunset.  Only today is there light enough to love and live.

    So, gently close the door on yesterday and then throw the key away.  It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad, but rather the regret over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow.

    "Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24, "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it."

    So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles.  Instead swim more rivers, climb more mountains, kiss more babies, count more stars.  Laugh more and cry less.  Go barefoot oftener.  Eat more ice cream.  Ride more merry-go-rounds.  Watch more sunsets.  Life must be lived as we go along.

Updated Wednesday, June 13, 2001

http://www.retrocom.com/retromilw/More%20Milwaukee%
20Memories.htm

This is the most awesome site if you want to take a stroll down memory lane. It's pages and and pages of memories that people mail in about Milwaukee to the site for others to read. I got addicted and could sit on this site for hours. CHECK IT OUT AND ENJOY!!!! Some things made me laugh and other made me cry.

This was in a book that was given to me over 10 years ago by my son. What I wouldn't give to have those old days back again.

                                         WET OATMEAL KISSES

A young mother writes: "I know you've written before about the empty-nest syndrome, that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now I'm up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; the boys are fightings. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on me again, will you?

Okay. One of these days, you'll shout, "Why don't you kids grow up and act your age!" And they will. Or, "You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do....and don't slam the door!" And they won't.

You'll straighten up the boy's bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on their shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you'll say out loud, "Now I want it to stay this way." And it will.

You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you'll say, "Now, there's a meal fit for company." And you'll eat it alone.

You'll say, "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence!! Do you hear?" And you'll have it.

No more plastic tablecothes stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothspins and suckers under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.

No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand in the sheets or popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.

Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year's Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn't ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.

No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o'clock at night. Having your own roll of scotch tape.

Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy Oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.

Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?" and the silence echoing, "I did".