Posted on 05/23/2008 6:01:38 PM PDT by AZamericonnie
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Sorry,.. but this is funny.
There’s a story from Texas about a prospective juror who
was surprised by the definition of manslaughter.
During the jury selection process, the judge explained that a homicide could be manslaughter if the defendant acted in the heat of passion, such as when a spouse finds his/her mate in a compromising position.
The juror expressed concern about the definition saying that during her first marriage she found her husband in bed with a neighbor. She told the judge: “All I did was divorce the %@#*&, I had no idea I could have shot him.”
The prospective juror was excused.
**Tim McGraw ~ Live Like You Were Dying**
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I got this from a Freeperette who shall remain anonymous...
> Subject: Chili Peppers Revenge
>
> I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that
> course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous morning, I had
> prepared and dined on a large brunch including eggs, and about a pound
> of bacon. The afternoon snack was filled with summer sausage, cashews,
> and 2 hard boiled eggs. The juices were already concocting a lethal gas
> process that Saddam Hussien would buy in a heart beat. Later that
> evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented
> “You’re definitely going to Shit yourself” chili. Tasty stuff, albeit
> hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee
> from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your ass cheeks WILL
> fall off.
>
> Here’s the thing. I had awakened that next morning, and even after two
> cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No
> “Watson’s Movement 2”. Despite habanera peppers, and all of those “other
> ingrediants” swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared
> to be unable to create the usual morning’s “First Salvo” referred to by
> my next door neighbors as “Shock and Awe”
>
> Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when,
> I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I
> often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.
>
> Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart
> and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn’t
> until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the
> pain hit me. Oh, don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking
> about. I’m referring to that “Uh oh, gotta go” pain that always seems to
> hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different and the
> “walk like a duck” -all the while trying to keep the ass cheeks pressed
> together.
>
> The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt.
> In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small
> intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I
> could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring
> sweet relief, it happened. The peppers, and all of the “other” fine
> byproducts of animals, I fired a warning shot.
>
> There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped
> in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I
> was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.
> Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my
> body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly
> fat woman, wearing ( you guessed it- a “mumu” ) turned into it.
>
> I don’t know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction
> would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she
> walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different
> directions emotionally? Here’s what I mean, and I’m sure some of you at
> least will be able to relate.
>
> I could’ve warned that poor woman but didn’t. I simply watched as she
> walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so
> terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running,
> was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though
> trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible,(
> not really ) but then made me laugh. Mistake.
>
> Here’s the thing. When you laugh, it’s hard to keep things “clamped
> down”, if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue
> burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I
> was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that
> someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.
>
> Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off
> through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole
> way, praying that I’d make it before the grand mal assplosion took
> place.
>
> Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began
> the inevitable “Oh my God”, floating above the toilet seat because my
> ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in
> the middle of what is the true meaning of “Shock and Awe”. and I even
> preformed a courtesy flush-twice, to no avail. He made a gagging sound,
> and disgustedly said, “Sonofabitch!”, then quickly left.
>
> Once finished, I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart
> intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached
> me and said, “Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It
> appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is
> going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to
> take care of the problem.”
>
> That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me.
> The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover
> his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, “IT’S YOU!”,
> then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was
> unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not
> to return.
>
> Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to
> eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I
> went to shop at Albertson’s. I can’t say anymore about that because we
> are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they’re going to have
> to repaint the store.
**Tim McGraw ~ Drugs Or Jesus**
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Music bumps for posts 699, 701, 703 and 706.
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Might have to save that response for the next time I am called to jury duty! LOL! (of course, in my case, it would be a lie. :D)
**Tim McGraw ~ Something's Broken**
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see reply #705 for a corker.... ROTFLOL!!!!
I had the same reaction!
Still LOL and my sides are hurting.....
|
GB.....#600 and #650!!
Randy.....#700!!
Ohhhh my!!
......no comment......at all.
LOL!
#704 needs to be the warning at the next company pic-nic “Chili Contest.”
**Tim McGraw ~ Open Season On My Heart**
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