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| Posted by Matthew Smith on 10-Aug-2005 | A POKEDale Earnhart, Mark Martin and Gordon are all on a fishing trip. After a few
hours and no bites, Dale jumps into the shallow water unzips and waves his
jiggly worm around. Pow! A huge bass hits it and he walks to the bank, pokes it
in the eye to make it release from his manhood, and holds up a 55 pound Bass.
Mark takes a look and jumps in the water and waves his peter around in the
water. Bam, another Bass! He walks to the shore and pokes the fish in the eye
and picks up a 70 pound Bass.
A little while passes and Dale looks at Jeff and says, "Aren't you going to
give it a try?"
Jeff replies, "No, I don't want to get poked in the eye!"
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| Posted by Melissa A. Mcclain on 10-Aug-2005 | Dear Ma and PaAm well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer
the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile.
Tell them to join up quick before maybe all of the places
are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay
in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to
sleep late.
Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth
your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to
pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay. Practically
nothing. Men gots to shave but it is not so bad, as they
get warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal,
eggs, bacon, etc..., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes,
black eyed peas, grits, fried eggplant, pie and other
regular food. But tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit
between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus
yours holds you till noon, when you get fed again. It's no
wonder these city boys can't walk much.
We go on "route" marches, which the Platoon Sergeant says
are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my
place to tell him different.
A "route march" is about as far as to our mailbox at home.
Then the city guys gets sore feet and we all ride back in
trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant
is like a schoolteacher. He nags something awful.
The Capt. is like the school board. Majors and Colonels
just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.
This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep
getting medals for shooting.
I don't know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a
chipmunk and don't move. And it ain't shooting at you, like
the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there
all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own
cartridges. They come in boxes.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before
other fellers get into this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter,
Gail
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| Posted by Amy Hunter on 09-Aug-2005 | Question answerHow do you stop squirrels playing football in the garden?
Hide the ball, it drives them nuts!
What's tennis players favourite city?
Volley wood!
How does a physicist exercise?
By pumping ion!
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| Posted by Twiggy Ramirez on 09-Aug-2005 | Question answerWhat's the chilliest ground in the premiership?
Cold Trafford!
How did the footbal pitch end up as triangle?
Somebody took a corner!
Why didn't the dog want to play football?
It was a boxer!
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| Posted by Eamonn Collins on 09-Aug-2005 | Question answerWhy did a footballer take a piece of rope onto the pitch?
He was the skipper!
How do hens encourage their football teams?
They egg them on!
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| Posted by Hoochie on 09-Aug-2005 | Watch real baseballTop Ten Signs you're Not Watching a Real Baseball Team
From Late Show with David Letterman; Monday, February 20, 1995
You recognize batter as the kid who sold you a hot dog a couple minutes earlier.
Everytime a player slides into second, he busts his hip.
They keep shouting "Do over!"
When umpire yells, "Strike 3!" batter looks at him as if the dude's speaking French.
Try as they might, they just can't scratch themselves like professionals.
First base: Siskel. Second base: Ebert.
Game stops when some lady in a house near the stadium shouts "Dinner time!"
Players constantly adjusting each other's cups.
You overheard the coach yelling, "Run, Forrest, run!"
They play like the Mets.
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