Posted on 01/17/2014 4:53:15 AM PST by Lucky9teen
Well folks, because I've been busy at work, today is going to be a FREE FOR ALL! So have at it...
a quick thought for this morning . . . Obama has his pen and his phone. .Good.........
He can stick his pen up his arse then call someone who cares.
WOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOO TGIF!!!!
lol...never had it.
huh?
you aint missed anything.
Everytime I ever got sick on beer it was Iron City
You were over charged. That stuff was nasty.
Just letting you know I’m gonna swipe this and add to my bacon lovers bulletin board. :-)
Looks almost human, compared to....(same smile for sure)
OK, who let Joe Biden get at the caption generator?
A talking frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He sees right away from her window nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack.
"Miss Whack, I would like to get a $50,000 loan in order to go on vacation," he says.
Patty looks at the frog in disbelief. In keeping with bank policy pertaining to customer relations, she asks the frog his name.
The frog says that his name is Kermit Jagger, adds the fact that his dad is Mick Jagger and that it is OK to give him the loan as he knows the bank manager personally.
Patty explains that he will have to secure the loan with some collateral. To which the frog replies, "sure, no problem, I have this" and produces a tiny porcelain elephant about half an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed.
Very confused, Patty explains that she will have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into the back office. She finds the manager and says, "there's a frog at my window who says his name is Kermit Jagger, he claims to know you and says his dad is Mick Jagger...and he wants to use this as collateral." She holds up the tiny elephant. "I mean, what in the world is this thing???"
The bank manager looks back at her and says, "It's a knick knack, Patty Whack, give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone."
Is it too late to post silliness today?
It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then — just to loosen up.
Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone — “to relax,” I told myself — but I knew it wasn’t true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and
finally I was thinking all the time.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother’s.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don’t mix, but I couldn’t help myself.
I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau, Muir, Confucius and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, “What is it exactly we are doing here?”
One day the boss called me in. He said, “Listen, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don’t stop thinking on the job, you’ll have to find another job.”
This gave me a lot to think about. I came home early after my conversation with the boss. “Honey,” I confessed, “I’ve been thinking...”
“I know you’ve been thinking,” she said, “and I want a divorce!”
“But Honey, surely it’s not that serious.”
“It is serious,” she said, lower lip aquiver. “You think as much as college professors and college professors don’t make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won’t have any money!”
“That’s a faulty syllogism,” I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.
“I’m going to the library,” I snarled as I stomped out the door.
I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors.
They didn’t open. The library was closed.
To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye, “Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?” it asked.
You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinkers Anonymous poster.
This is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was “Porky’s.” Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.
Today I took the final step...I joined the Democrat Party.
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