Quote from Forum Archives on October 4, 2006, 10:17 am

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

"Cleaning Poem"

 

 

I asked the Lord to tell me
Why my house is such a mess.
He asked if I'd been 'computering',
And I had to answer, "yes."

 

He told me to get off my fanny
And tidy up the house.
And so I started cleaning up...
The smudges off my mouse.

 

I wiped and shined the topside.
That really did the trick...
I was just admiring my work...
I didn't mean to 'click.'

 

But click, I did, and oops I found
A real absorbing site
That I got SO way into...
I was into it all night.<<Sigh>>

 

Nothing's changed except my mouse
It's very, very shiny.
I guess my house will stay a mess...
While I sit here on my hiney.

 

 

"Build It and They Will Come"

 

 

The telephone solicitor selling basement waterproofing must have thought she'd died and gone to heaven when she reached my very polite and patient son on the phone. At the end of her long sales pitch, she asked, "Do you mind if we send out someone to give you an estimate?"
"Not at all," my son said.

 

"When would be a good time?" she asked.

 

My son answered, "Just as soon as I dig a basement."

 

"Italian Cookies"

 

 

An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the

agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his

favorite Italian anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs.

 

Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed.

Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and
with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he
crawled downstairs. With labored breath, he leaned against the door
frame, gazing into the kitchen.

 

Where if not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already
in heaven, for t here, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table
were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.

 

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his

devoted Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this

world a happy man?

 

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the
table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips
parted, the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth,
seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and withered hand trembled
on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly
smacked with a spatula by his wife.....

 

"Back off!" she said, "They're for the funeral."

 

 

Have a Blessed Day
Dave and Barbara

 

 

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