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Tuesday, October 17, 2017, 11:55:20 AM- I hate to run over animals...
I hate to run over animals...
and I really hate it on a motorcycle,
but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.
I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers,
never fear.
Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact,
the squirrel flipped to his feet.
He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes.
His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street...and in the fight of his life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristine kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in...well...I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street...on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle...my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.
The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand...l managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked...sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger...
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car...
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.
As for my easy and slow drive home? Bag it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway.
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"I once saw motorcycle run over a opossum. Both recovered and went separate ways."
- Be4andAfter


Thursday, October 5, 2017, 11:04:23 PM- Happy Birthday to NN.
Wonder how many others have printed the NN birthday sign out and used it.
Done a few photos today with it.
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"Belated thanks!"
- NN


Saturday, September 30, 2017, 8:51:12 PM- The Blonde & the Golfer...
The Blonde & the Golfer...
A circus owner runs an ad for a lion tamer and two people show up. One is
a good looking, older retired golfer and the other is a gorgeous blonde in
her mid-twenties.
The circus owner tells them, "I'm not going to sugar coat it. This is
one ferocious lion. He ate my last tamer so you two had better be good or
you're history. Here's your equipment -- chair, whip and a gun. Who wants
to try out first?"
The girl says, "I'll go first." She walks past the chair, the whip
and the gun and steps right into the lion's cage. The lion starts to snarl
and pant and begins to charge her. About halfway there, she throws open
her coat revealing her beautiful naked body.
The lion stops dead in his tracks, sheepishly crawls up to her and
starts licking her feet and ankles. He continues to lick and kiss her
entire body for several minutes and then rests his head at her feet.
The circus owner's jaw is on the floor. He says, "I've never seen a
display like that in my life." He then turns to the retired golfer and
asks,
"Can you top that?"
The tough old golfer replies, "No problem, just get that lion out of
the way."
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"HA!"
- riverguy


Saturday, September 16, 2017, 10:14:48 PM- I replaced all the windows
Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive,
double-pane,
energy-efficient kind.
Today,
I got a call from Home Depot who installed them.
He complained that the work had been completed a year ago and I still hadn't paid for them.
Helloooo............ just because I'm blonde doesn't mean that I am automatically stupid.
So,
I told him just what his fast-talking sales guy told me last year... that these windows would pay for themselves in a year.
Hellooooo?
It's been a year,
so they're paid for,
I told him.
There was only silence at the other end of the line,
so I finally hung up.
He never called back.
I bet he felt like an idiot!
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Monday, September 11, 2017, 1:44:37 PM- Little Johnny
Little Johnny was sitting on a park bench munching on one candy bar after another.
After the 6th one a man on the bench across from him said,
'Son, you know eating all that candy isn't
good for you.
It will give you acne,
rot your teeth,
and make you fat.'

Little Johnny replied,
'My grandfather lived to be 107 years old.'

The man asked,
'Did your grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time?'
Little Johnny answered,
'No,
he minded his own fucking business.
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Saturday, September 9, 2017, 8:12:06 PM- a gift from her boss.
A secretary got an expensive pen as a gift from her boss.
She sent him A 'Thank you note' by email.
Bosses wife read the email and filed for divorce.
The email says:
"Your penis wonderful.
I enjoyed using it last night.
It has extra Ordinary smooth flow,
and a firm stroke.
Initially its tip had to be licked to bring it to working order.
I loved its perfect size and grip.
Felt like I was in heaven when using it.
I've always desired it and you fulfilled my wish.
Thanks a lot"


Moral:
A "space" is an essential part in English.
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Thursday, September 7, 2017, 12:44:53 PM- To My Dearest Wife,
To My Dearest Wife,
During the past year,
I have attempted to make love to you 365 times.
I have succeeded 36 times,
which is an average of only once every 10 days.
The following is a list of why I didn't succeed more often:
We will wake the kids - 54 times
It's too late - 15 times
I'm too tired - 42 times
It's too early - 12 times
It's too hot - 18 times
Pretending to be asleep - 31 times
The neighbors will hear - 9 times
Headache or backache - 26 times
Sunburn - 10 times
Your mother will hear us - 9 times
Not in the mood - 21 times
Watching the late show - 17 times
Too sore - 26 times
New hairdo - 6 times
Wrong time of the month - 14 times
You had to go to the bathroom - 19 times
Of the 36 times that I DID succeed,
the result was not always satisfying because 6 times you just laid there,
8 times you reminded me that there was a crack in the ceiling,
4 times you told me to hurry up and get it over with,
7 times I had to wake you up to tell you I was finished,
and once I was afraid that I had hurt you because you started thrashing around and breathing heavy.
Let's try to improve this, shall we??
Love, Your Hubby
----------------------------------------------
To My Dearest Husband,
I think things are a little confused.
Here are the REAL reasons you didn't get more than you did this past year:
Came home drunk and tried to 'do' the cat - 23 times
Did not come home at all - 36 times
Did not come - 21 times
'Too soon' - 38 times
Went soft before we got it on - 19 times
Cramps in your leg - 16 times
Working too late - 33 times
You had a rash, probably from a toilet seat - 29 times
Caught yourself in your zipper - 15 times
You had a cold and your nose kept running - 21 times
You had burned your tongue on hot coffee - 9 times
You had a splinter in your finger - 11 times
You lost the notion after thinking about it - 42 times
Soiled your pajamas after reading a dirty book - 16 times
The reason I laid still was because you had missed me and were doing the sheet.
You seemed to be having a good time and I didn't want to move and spoil it for you.
I wasn't talking about the crack in the ceiling.
What I said was, "Would you like me on my back or kneeling?"
The time I was thrashing around and gasping was when you farted and I was fighting for air.
Maybe you can work on your "shortcomings?"
Love, Your Wife
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"This one and " Dearest Dad" following this one are two of the funniest pieces 8n any venue. You have a great eye for this ..... Keep going!!"
- Mentor___01


Monday, September 4, 2017, 11:41:18 AM- Dearest Dad,
Dearest Dad,
I am coming home to get married soon,
so get your cheque book out.
I'm in love with a boy who is far away from me.
As you know,
I am in Australia and he lives in Scotland.
We met on a dating website,
became friends on Facebook ,
had long chats on Whatsapp.
He proposed to me on Skype,
and now we've had two months of a relationship through Viber.
My beloved and favourite Dad,
I need your blessing,
good wishes,
and a really big wedding.
Lots of love and thanks.
Your favourite daughter,
Lilly

THE RESPONSE

My Dear Lilly,
Like Wow!
Really?
Cool!
Whatever...I suggest you two get married on Twitter,
have fun on Tango,
buy your kids on Amazon,
and pay for it all through PayPal.
And when you get fed up with this new husband,
sell him on eBay.
Love,
Your Dad
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Saturday, September 2, 2017, 1:22:52 PM- The Defective Parrot.
The Defective Parrot.
A guy is browsing in a pet shop, and sees a parrot sitting on a little perch.
It doesn't have any feet or legs.
The guy says aloud, 'Jeesh, I wonder what happened to this parrot.?'
The parrot says, 'I was born this way.
I'm a defective parrot.'
'Holy crap,' the guy replies.
'You actually understood and answered me. !'
'I got every word,' says the parrot.
'I happen to be a highly intelligent, and a thoroughly educated bird'
'Oh yeah?' the guy asks.
'Then answer this, how do you hang onto your perch, without any feet.?'
'Well,' the parrot says, 'this is very embarrassing, but since you asked, I wrap my weenie around this wooden bar, like a little hook.
You can't see it, because of my feathers.'
'Wow,' says the guy.
'You really can understand, and can speak English, can't you.?'
'Actually, I speak both Spanish and English, and I can converse with reasonable competence on almost any topic, politics, religion, sports, physics, philosophy.
I'm especially good at ornithology.
You really ought to buy me, I'd be a great companion.'
The guy looks at the $200.00 price tag.
'Sorry, but I just can't afford that.'
'Pssssssst,' says the parrot, 'I'm defective, so the truth is, nobody wants me, cause I don't have any feet.
You can probably get me for $20, just make the guy an offer.!'
The guy offers $20, and walks out with the parrot.
Weeks go by.
The parrot is sensational.
He has a great sense of humour, he's interesting, he's a great pal, he understands everything, he sympathizes, and he's insightful.
The guy is delighted.
One day the guy comes home from work, and the parrot goes, 'Psssssssssssst,' and motions him over with one wing.
'I don't know if I should tell you this or not, but it's about your wife, and the Austpost man.'
'What are you talking about,?' asks the guy.
'When he delivered a package today, your wife greeted him at the door, in a sheer black nightie.'
'WHAT???' the guy asks incredulously.
'THEN what happened?'
'Well, he came into the house, and lifted up her nightie, and began petting her all over,' reported the parrot.
'NO!' he exclaims, 'and she let him.?'
'Yes.
Then he continued taking off the nightie, got down on his knees, and began to kiss her all over.'
Then the frantic guy demands, 'THEN WHAT HAPPENED.?'
I DUNNO?!? I got an erection, and fell off my perch.!'
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Friday, September 1, 2017, 12:11:04 PM- A woman from Los Angeles
A woman from Los Angeles who was a tree hugger,
and an anti-hunter purchased a piece of timberland near Colville, WA.
There was a large tree on one of the highest points in the tract.
She wanted a good view of the natural splendour of her land so she started to climb the big tree.
As she neared the top she encountered a spotted owl that attacked her.
In her haste to escape,
the woman slid down the tree to the ground and got many splinters in her crotch.
In considerable pain,
she hurried to a local ER to see a doctor.
She told him she was an environmentalist and an anti-hunter and how she came to get all the splinters.
The doctor listened to her story with great patience and then told her to go wait in the examining room and he would see if he could help her.
She sat and waited three hours before the doctor reappeared.
The angry woman demanded,
"What took you so long?"
He smiled and then told her,
"Well, I had to get permits from the Environmental Protection Agency,
the Forest Service,
and the Bureau of Land Management before I could remove old-growth timber from a recreational area so close to a waste treatment facility.
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- riverguy


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