He turned to the second Mom, "Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests
itself in your child's name, Penny".

He turns to the third Mom, "Your obsession is alcohol. This too manifests itself in
your child's name, Brandy".

At this point, the fourth mother gets up, takes her little boy by the hand and
whispers. "Come on, Dick, we're leaving."

"So, how is everything going?" inquired God.

"It is all so beautiful," she replied. "The sunrises and sunsets are breathtaking; the smells, the sights -- everything is wonderful."

"But I do have this one problem. It is these three breasts that you have given me. The middle one pushes the other two out, and I'm constantly knocking them with my arms, catching them on branches and snagging them on bushes. They are a real pain," said Eve.

She went on to relate that many other parts of her body such as her limbs, eyes, and ears came in pairs, and she felt that having only two breasts might leave her body more "symmetrically balanced", as she put it.

"That is a fair point, "replied God. "This was my first shot at this, you know. I gave the animals six breasts, and I figured you needed only half of those.....but I see you're right. I'll fix it up right away."

God reached down, removed the middle breast, and tossed it into the bushes.

Another three weeks passed, and God once again visited Eve in the garden.

"Well, Eve, how is my favorite creation now?"

"Just fantastic," she replied, "except for one oversight on your part. You see
all the animals are paired off. The ewe has a ram and the cow has her bull. All the animals have a mate except me. I feel so alone."

God thought for a moment and said, "You know, Eve, you are right. How could I have overlooked this? You do need a mate, and I will immediately create a man from a part of you. Now let's see...Where did I put that useless boob?"

(Now, doesn't THIS make a little more sense than the story about the rib?)

She said, "I'm a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I
get up in the morning, I think about women. When I shower, I think about women.
As I watch TV, or even eat, I think about women. Everything seems to make me
think about women."

The two sat sipping in silence. A short time later, a man sat down on the other side
of the old sailor and asked, "Are you a real sailor?"

He replied, "I always thought I was, but I just found out I'm a lesbian."

The question: What do women really want?

Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and, to
young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since it was better
than death, he accepted the monarch's proposition to have an answer by year's end.
He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everybody: the princess,
the prostitutes, the priests, the wise men, and the court jester. He
spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer.

Many people advised him to consult the old witch - only she would know
the answer. The price would be high; the witch was famous throughout
the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.

The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no alternative but to
talk to the witch.

She agreed to answer the question, but he'd have to accept her price first:

The old witch wanted to marry him.

Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only
one tooth, smelled like sewage, and made obscene noises. He had never
encountered such a repugnant creature.

Finally, having no real choice, he agreed. Their wedding was proclaimed, and the witch answered Arthur's question thus:
What a woman really wants is to be in charge of her own life.
Everyone instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and
that Arthur's life would be spared. And so it was. The neighboring monarch granted Arthur total freedom.

What a wedding Arthur and the witch had! Arthur was torn between
relief and gratitude for his life, and facing a life of anguish. He was
proper as always, gentle, and courteous. The entire wedding day the old
witch put her worst manners on display, and generally made everyone very
uncomfortable.

The hour for consumating the marriage approached. Arthur, steeling
himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom. But what a sight
awaited him! The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen lay before him! The astounded Arthur asked what had happened.

The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she'd
appeared as a witch, she would henceforth be her horrible, deformed self only half the time, and the other half she would be her beautiful maiden self.
Then she asked, which version would he want her to be during the day and which during the night?

What a cruel question! Arthur pondered his predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman for all to see, but at night, in the privacy of
his home, an horrible old witch? Or would he prefer having by day the
hideous witch, but by night a beautiful woman with whom to enjoy many intimate moments?
Noble Arthur replied that he would let her choose for herself.

Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the
time, because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.
What is the moral of this story?
The moral is: If a woman doesn't get her own way, things are going to
get real ugly!

I can't stand and eat I must assume the position.
I would not be happy with:- The tail of a rhinoceros, as in rhino soup. I feel the tail is too short and has spent too much time near a certain orifice, one can't be sure if the tails were diligently scrubbed before boiling.

Then there are sheeps eyes, not to keen on those. Initially they are like a gobstopper, (one can't just bite a piece off) and once in the mouth they tend to roll around just as one is about to chomp down on them. The bad part though, the really horrid part is when one manages to apply the correct amount of pressure and the thing bursts in the mouth. I was belatedly informed one is supposed to swallow them like oysters.
Monkey brains, now there is a dish I would not touch with a long spoon. Yet by some the dish is considered a delicacy. Wait till Nigella includes it in her programme and we will all be wanting to try it.

I was offered the testicles of a bull once. It is a great honour. I was in this restuarant and I watched as a VIP was offered this dish after a great bull fight.
He accepted and tackled them with great gusto. I asked the waiter if I could try them, he apologised and said the VIP had just taken the last. However if I returned the next evening he would save for me the testicles of the bull killed that day.

I could hardly contain myself. I returned to the restaurant the following evening and salivated as I waited for this treasured dish. The waiter duly arrived and there on the salver was the testicles. I looked at them and said to the waiter, " They are rather small, not quite as big as that VIP had yesterday?"

The waiter leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Senor, the bull does not always lose!"
Well enough about me.... how are you feeling?

William Penn had two aunts whose pies were legendary. Penn set them
up with a bakery shop. But they were failures as businesswomen. They
changed their prices regularly, trying to find one their customers
would accept. Penn thought it would be wise to advertise their rates.
So he contacted his friend Benjamin Franklin and asked him to publish
the rates in his periodical, "The Saturday Evening Post." Ben devoted
a weekly column to advertising the rates. He called it, "The Pie Rates
of Penn's Aunts."

Be honest now............. how many times did you have to go back and check it out? Ooooh! There's bound to be a couple of smart a**** out there.

As the bus stopped and it was her turn to get on, she became aware
that her skirt was too tight to allow her leg to come up to the height of
the first step of the bus.

Slightly embarrassed and with a quick smile to the bus driver, she
reached behind her to unzip her skirt a little, thinking that this would
give her enough slack to raise her leg.

She tried to take the step, only to discover that she couldn't.
So,
a little more embarrassed, she once again reached behind her to unzip her
skirt a little more, and for the second time attempted the step..

Yet again, much to her annoyance she still could not raise her leg.

With a little smile to the driver, she reached behind to unzip a
little more and again was unable to take the step.

About this time, a large Texan who was standing behind her picked
her up easily by the waist and placed her gently on the step of the bus.

She went ballistic and turned to the would-be Samaritan and
yelled,
"How dare you touch my body! I don't even know who you are!"

The Texan smiled and drawled;

"Well, ma'am, normally I would agree with you, but after you
unzipped my fly three times, I kinda figured we was friends."

He tore off his clothes and ran into the cave. The hillbilly was puzzled and asked the other Indian what that was all about was the other Indian crazy or what? "No," said the Indian. "It is our custom during mating season when Indian men see cave, they holler 'Wooooo Wooooo! Wooooo!' into the opening. If they get an answer back, it means there is a girl in there waiting to mate."

Just then they saw another cave. The Indian ran up to the opening of the cave, stopped, and hollered, "Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!" Immediately, there was an answering "Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!" from deep inside the cave. He tore off his clothes and ran into the cave.

The hillbilly wandered around in the woods alone for a while, and then he came upon a great big cave. As he looked in amazement at the size of the huge opening, he was thinking, "Hoo, man! Look at the size of this cave! It is bigger than those the Indians found. There must be some really big, fine women in this cave!" He stood in front of the opening and hollered with all his might Wooooo! Wooooo! Wooooo!"

He grinned and closed his eyes in anticipation, and then he heard the answering call, "WOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOO!" With a gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face, he raced into the cave tearing off his clothes as he ran.

The following day, the headline of the newspaper read........................................................

You ready for this???????????????

"NAKED HILLBILLY RUN OVER BY FREIGHT TRAIN."

An Irish boy put his hand up and said, "Please miss, it was St. Patrick."

The teacher said, "Sorry Sean, that's not correct." Then a Scottish boy put his hand up and said, "Please miss, it was St. Andrew." The teacher replied, "I'm sorry Hamish, that's not right either." Finally, a Jewish boy raised his hand and said, "Please miss, it was Jesus Christ." The teacher said, "That's absolutely right Hymie, come up here and I'll give you your $2."

As the teacher was giving Hymie his money, she said "You know Hymie, you being Jewish, I was very surprised you said Jesus Christ," to which Hymie replied, "I know miss, in my heart I knew it was Moses, but business is business."
And ....

A girl was visiting her blonde friend and noticed she had acquired two new dogs, and asked her what their names were.The blonde responded by saying that one was named Rolex and one was named Timex.

Her friend said, "Whoever heard of someone naming dogs something like that?"

Whereupon the blonde responded, "What else you gonna name watch dogs?"

Tissues at the ready? Then here we go.......................

Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" -- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.

We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.

She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" -- still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.
Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a prisoner of love.

As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch -- because your touch was now so infrequent -- and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.
Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers."

You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed, "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a goodbye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago.

At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you, that you had changed your mind -- that this was all a bad dream ... or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.

When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room.

She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days.

As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood.
She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.

She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, "How could you?"

Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said, "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself -- a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place.

And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.