President Bush

"I fully understand the effects of gasoline price raises on people who are working. It's like a tax. Every time it goes up at the pump, people are like paying a tax."
North Carolina, Apr. 6, 2006~George W. Bush

David Letterman: "President Bush is now being accused of leaking classified information. I was stunned. I was shocked. I said to myself, 'Wait, they let this guy see classified information.'"

Jay Leno: "President Bush says America has caused an incredible transformation in Afghanistan. He said everything's being rebuilt, people are getting jobs, kids are going back to school. He said it works so well that he's thinking of trying it in New Orleans."

Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; it's conditions are improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence are delusional spin from the liberal media. That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effect. Why do you hate freedom?

Bush slip ups, this is very funny!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bARU6Vqc1pk&search=president%20bush

Frank Caliendo ,President Bush Imitations. Frank is Hilarious!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e7lVzYEkx1s&search=frank%20caliend

A Memory

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away. -- Author unknown

One of my greatest memories is of water skiing. Some of my moments are so memorable. I can see, hear and feel these moments. The clarity is unreal; it feels as though it was yesterday. I find the passage of time incredible. How is it that those moments that took my breath away are etched so vividly in my memory? Some of these special memories or moments took place more than 30 years ago. I can see it so clearly. I feel like I am there right now.

The boat was a powerful Sea Ray. She was an inboard/outboard. She was sleek and beautiful. She was fast. Her name was Tilakama. I have many memories and stories regarding her. She could be a lot of trouble. When she ran as she did on that particular day and many more to follow she was awesome. She brought happiness and joy to our family. Just don't ask Ralph Nader because he got a letter from her Captain, my Dad, which cited her many faults. When she wasn't running it was devastating. That says something about the amount of joy she provided. How could we feel so devastated and disappointed when she could not run?

The time was in the 1970's. The place was Avalon New Jersey. Tilakama was in a slip at our dock behind our summer home. The captain was getting her ready. Items we needed were stowed on board. We were going skiing! Our heading was the ICW, the Intercoastal Waterways, winding through the marsh grass. The air smelled of salt and marsh. The sun was shining the breeze was good. Excitement was in the air. The water was a little choppy that fine day.

We traveled to the area where we wanted to ski. I am not certain if a hat was lost on that particular day. This is where you laugh. The Intercoastal Waterway owns many of my father’s hats. I think they became wonderful homes for the blue crabs resting on the bottom. On rare occasions we caught them with the big aluminum boat hook. On most occasions those wonderful hats sank.

The Captain speaks: “Who wants to go first?" I did not volunteer. I wanted to watch my Dad ski. I hoped he would be first. I wanted to watch. I was the spotter, my favorite position aboard. My Dad, the captain, is going first! Wooohoooooo!

We had two ski ropes, one was a straight bar, the other had two handles and it looked like a giant yellow letter Y. Dad used the Y. I hooked the rope to the boat and let it out carefully making sure it did not catch in the motor as my Dad motored slowly ahead. The rope was out. The motor was shifted to neutral. My Dad pulled out his ski that was stowed inside along the port edge of the boat. He lifted the ski and headed to the stern. He tossed the ski into the water. It made a slap when it hit the water. The ski was heading toward the end of the rope on its own.

There was nothing timid regarding his departure from the boat to the water. He always made a big leap. As he was midair between the boat and the water he would yell:"Geronimo!" A huge splash rippled the water on entry sending water flying up into the air. He would swim swiftly out to his ski and the rope. He quickly put on his ski. He positioned his ski tip between that Y. Then he gave the ready sign. I am responsible to translate his wishes to Rachel. I holler: Ready! The boat pushed from still to fast quickly. My Dad is standing in seconds. I yell:” He’s up!" The first order of business is fixing the trunks. He transfered both handles to his left hand and with the right pulled the legs of his swimming trunks down. The handles then transfer to the right hand and the procedure is repeated. I can see his wonderful smile. A thumb goes up and I yell to Rachel faster! He made goofy faces. There is one that I call a motorboat face. I watch. In retrospect I do not believe I ever saw him give the thumb down sign to go slower. Look what my Dad can do!! He is great! My heart was pounding. I was so happy I was so proud. He cuts through the water. He moves from side to side crossing the wake with his motorboat face. Then he would slice the water with an edge of his ski and make this huge water wall fly in the air by his side. He is so graceful. He is so beautiful. The ski made a slapping sound over the ripples in the water. He took the shock in his legs. He has perfect form. I make a huge circle with my arm up, index finger in the air, to let him know we are turning around. We are making a counterclockwise turn. As we are beginning the turn my Dad moves from the port side of the boat across the wake to the starboard side in the turn. Here he comes! He is going to pass the boat! He lifts the rope high into the air pulling the Y apart. This takes up the slack and the boat again takes the lead. When we reached the position where we started I waited with anticipation. Will he go again or will he quit? I waited for him to raise his arm and make a circle to inform me he wanted to make another run. I wanted to watch him ski forever. I loved when he wanted to make another round. When he was finished his hand moved across his neck and that was the cut sign. That meant he was done. After I received the cut signal I yelled to Rachel: "He's done!" The boat slowed down; he would fling the rope and raise his arms high above his head. He would glide, arms up the whole time, standing as long as he could, slowing, gliding, graceful, down into the water. We would circle the boat around to pick him up and as he was climbing the ladder his smile, his joy, his happiness was palpable. What a beautiful thing to witness and be a part of.

In time I learned to slalom also and I could see the pride in his radiant face and the mist in his beautiful eyes. He was proud of me too!

Find your linguistic profile

Where flowers bloom so does hope. ~ Lady Bird Johnson

Raggedy's Linguistic Profile::

30% General American English

25% Dixie

25% Yankee

15% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Sunday June 4, 2006

God of our life, there are days when the burdens we carry chafe our shoulders and weigh us down; when the road seems dreary and endless, the skies grey and threatening; when our lives have no music in them, and our hearts are lonely, and our souls have lost their courage. Flood the path with light, run our eyes to where the skies are full of promise; tune our hearts to brave music; give us the sense of comradeship with heroes and saints of every age; and so quicken our spirits that we may be able to encourage the souls of all who journey with us on the road of life, to Your honor and glory. ~Augustine

To: My friends across the pond

The amount of consonants in the English language is constant. If not used in one area of the United States, they turn up in another. When a man in Boston "pahks" his "cah," the lost r's migrate southwest, causing a man in Texas to "warsh" his car and invest in "erl wells."






I am posting this for my friends who speak and read more than just the English language. If you can speak three languages you're trilingual. If you can speak two languages you're bilingual. If you can speak only one language you're an American.

If you've learned to speak fluent English, you must be a genius!

This little treatise on the lovely language we share is only for the brave. Peruse at your leisure, English lovers. These are a few of the reasons why the English language is so hard to learn:

1) The purpose of farming is to produce produce.

2) The bandage was wound around the wound.

3) When our dumps get full they refuse more refuse.

4) We polish our Polish furniture.

5) The lead horse was lead from his pen.

6) I was so hot I decided to desert my dessert in the desert.

7) There is no time like the present. It is time to present the present.

8) The boy was playing the bass drum when his friend caught the bass.

9) When my dog got loose the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) They were too close to the door to close it.

13) A buck does funny things when the does are present.

14) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

15) After a number of injections my jaw got number.

16) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

17) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

18) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

19) I wrote two letters to my friend too.

20) Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?

21) It is a strange world of language in which skating on thin ice can get you into hot water. ~Franklin P. Jones

22) At no time is freedom of speech more precious than when a man hits his thumb with a hammer. ~Marshall Lumsden

23) English is a funny language; that explains why we park our car on the driveway and drive our car on the parkway.


There is no egg in eggplant, no ham in hamburger, no apple or pine in pineapple. Quicksand works slowly. Boxing rings are square. A guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

Writers write but fingers don't fing. Grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham.

If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth? There is one goose and two geese but if there is one moose there are not two meese.

If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? Is it an odd, or an end?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique language in which your house can burn up as it burns down and in which you fill in a form by filling it out.

English was invented by people, and it reflects the creativity of the human race, which, of course, is not a race at all. You can see when the stars are out. You can’t see when the lights are out.

Why doesn't "Buick" rhyme with "quick"?

BTW, (by the way), my spell checker did not like this particular document. My spell check is aware of the words not the different enunciations of the same words.

For the Netherlands:
Deze hond, is hond, een hond, goede hond, manier hond, aan hond, houd hond, een hond, idiot hond, bezige hond, voor hond, hond 20, seconden hond! ... Lees nu zonder de woordhond.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Hugs and Knuffles

Love, Raggedy (Da Cat)

Winnsboro

Missing someone gets easier every day because even though it's one day further from the last time you saw each other, it's one day closer to the next time you will.
~Author Unknown



The visits we made to Winnsboro, South Carolina, are kept safe in my heart. I reflect on them at times with awe. It is almost impossible to describe because it had so much to do with feelings and emotions. Feelings are difficult to put on paper.

The first thing was the welcome. I have never been anywhere in my life where I felt such an overwhelming feeling of being welcome. It was on their faces, in the brightness of their eyes, smiles, and warm hugs. No one has ever greeted me with such enthusiasm, warmth, and affection. I could feel deep inside my heart how happy they were to see me! This indescribable electricity filled the air around us. My Grandparents were always waiting and watching out the window for our car to arrive. They came out to greet us with this unbelievable joy and happiness. My Grandma in her dramatic manner would go on about how I have grown! Sometimes her hugs were so fierce that they actually hurt. I would never complain it was alright. The greetings lasted a long time. What a wonderful place to be. I was folded into a blanket woven from love. It was a warm and fuzzy place to be.

My Grandpa asked me if I liked chicken. Oh, yes was my reply especially Kentucky Fried Chicken. My Grandpa told me how lucky I was to be in this house tonight because he was going to make it. My Grandpa and Colonel Sanders were great friends! The Colonel himself entrusted my Grandpa with that secret recipe! That was the best fried chicken I ever had! I was sitting at the kitchen table. I had to hide my eyes while the secret ingredients were added. My Grandpa sure was friends with a lot of people. He had a wonderful smile and laugh and I can still picture him in my mind. He told jokes that we were not supposed to hear and they were funny. I can still remember some of them. These jokes were not politically correct , they can’t be repeated , but I can still laugh inside when I think of them. It would be a grand idea to add the word Engelbert Humperdinck to all of the spelling lists to ensure entrance into heaven for all. Grandpa’s lap was a special place. I enjoyed sitting with him as he read me a story.

Behind the couch was the front window. FiFi’s, the poodle, favorite place to be was on the back of that couch looking out the window. She was a yappy little thing but fun to play with. After FiFi passed there was GiGi but they seemed so much alike to me other than their color.

My Grandmother was funny and witty. We played a lot of games together. It was difficult to play with her because I had so much trouble remembering the rules. They seemed to change every other hand in rummy. Every time I finally thought I had it down, by golly, they would change again. I am laughing now. At the time I was very confused. She was a good rummy player. She beat the tar out of me every game! The other game we loved to play together was caroms.

Grandma was sitting on the couch. Many things with Grandma were non verbal she did not need words to communicate. My Dad could do this also, a look, a touch; a head rub said it all. Grandma pats the couch and I go over to sit by her. Her arms enfold me and she tells me how much she loves me. I tell her I love her too. On her right wrist is a large silver bracelet full of charms. The bracelet jingled when she moved her hand. I asked her about the bracelet. I liked the way it sounded. She laid her hand in my lap and began lifting the charms. She told me how special this bracelet was. Each charm was engraved with the names and dates of her Children’s births and those of all her Grandchildren. She told me how lucky she was. I could hear the pride in her voice and tone. I could see the great love she had for us inside her. She came to a charm and put it between my fingers and said this is you. This name and this day mean the world to me. I will always remember you and love you. This was one of my most tender memories of my Grandmother. Most of our time was spent laughing, playing and having fun. Life was not very serious business to my Grandma it was just plain fun! She made a mission or game of almost anything. I raced my brother to see which one of us could collect the most pecans that had fallen from the tree. A simple walk to the Piggly Wiggly or Five and Dime was and adventure if you were with Grandma. My Grandmother did not have an aura of color around her she had an aura of happiness. How wonderful to be in the company of one so thrilled and happy with life! Her happiness infected you with joy and that was a wonderful place to be!

For the Dads

“Watching your daughter being collected by her date feels like handing over a million dollar Stradivarius to a gorilla.” ~Jim Bishop

PART I

Date my Daughter Application

(REVOCABLE AT ANY TIME)

NOTE - This application will be Incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a complete financial statement, job history, lineage, and current medical report from your doctor.

1. NAME:_____________ DATE OF BIRTH: ________

2. HEIGHT:___________ WEIGHT: ______IQ: ________GPA: ______

3. SOCIAL SECURITY #: ___________DRIVERS LICENSE #: _________

4. BOY SCOUT RANK:_______________________________________

5. HOME ADDRESS: ________________CITY: _________ ZIP ______

6. Do you have one MALE and one FEMALE parent? Yes____ No_______ If NO, explain: ________________________________

7. Number of years parents married: ___________

8. DO YOU OWN A VAN? ____ A TRUCK WITH OVERSIZED TIRES OR CAMPER SHELL? ____ WATERBED? _____ MOTORCYCLE? _____ TATOO? ____ COLOR ALTERED HAIR? ___ (IF YES TO ANY PART OF #8, DISCONTINUE APPLICATION AND LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY)

9. In 50 words or less, what does “Late” mean to you? ________________________________

10. In 50 words or less, what does “DO NOT TOUCH MY DAUGHTER” mean to you? ________________________

11. In 50 words or less, what does “ABSTINENCE” mean to you? ___________________________

12. What church do you attend? ________________ How often do you attend? ____/ week

13. When would be the best time to interview your father, mother, priest or pastor? ____________

14. Fill in the blanks: Please answer freely - all answers are confidential (That means I won’t tell anyone - I promise):

A. If I were shot, the last place on my body I would want to be wounded is in the _____________

B. If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my _____________

C. A women’s place is in the __________________

D. The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is ____________________

E. When I first meet a girl, the first thing I notice is _____________________ (NOTE: If the answer to “E” begins with a B, T, or A, discontinue and leave the premises immediately with your head hung low.)

15. What do you want to be IF you grow up? _________________________

16. Do you plan to attend a Catholic or Christian College? _________ Which one? ____________

I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT, NATIVE AMERICAN ANT TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROCUTION, CHINESE WATER TORTURE, AND RED HOT POKERS.

_____________________ Signature (That means sign your name)
Thank you for your interest. Please allow four to six years for processing. You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. Please do not try to call or write (this action will void this application). If your application is rejected you will be notified by two angels wearing red suits and carrying pitch forks. (You might want to start praying now).

PART II

When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend’s father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter’s chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter’s suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they’ll stay wilted all night.

“So,” I’ll call out jovially. “I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you’re stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?”

As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.

If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure as heck not picking anything up.

You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck.

If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.

I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.

In order for us to get to know each other, we do not need to talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”

I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you.

If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.

As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places lacking parents, policemen, or nuns. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her chin.

Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.

My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these simple rules from memory. I’d be embarrassed too—-there are only a few of them, for crying out loud!


And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I’d have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn’t remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate-—ink washes off-—and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.

One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter’s would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. “Don’t you remember being that age?” she challenged.

Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with these simple rules?