"Everyman's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." Hans Christian Anderson
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OLD ACADEMICS never die, they just lose their faculties
OLD ACCOUNTANTS never die, they just lose their balance
OLD ACCOUNTS never die, they are deleted
OLD ACTORS never die, they just drop a part
OLD ALCAHOLICS/DRUG ADDICTS never die, they just get wasted
OLD ANTHROPOLOGISTS never die, they just become history
OLD ARCHERS never die, they just bow and quiver
OLD ARCHITECTS never die, they just lose their structures
OLD ASSETS never die, they just depreciate
OLD ASTRONAUTS never die, they just go to another world
OLD ATOMS never die, they just decay
OLD BANKERS never die, they just lose interest
OLD BANKERS never die, they just want to be a loan
OLD BASEBALL PLAYERS never die, they just go batty
OLD BASEBALL PLAYERS never die, they just run their last lap
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A story I'll tell of a burglar boldWho started to rob a house;
He opened the window, and then crept in
As quiet as a mouse.
He looked around for a place to hide,
'Till the folks were all asleep,
Then said he, "With their money
I'll take a quiet sneak."
So under the bed the burglar crept;
He crept up close to the wall;
He didn't know it was an old maid's room
Or he wouldn't have had the gall.
He thought of the money that he would steal,
As under the bed he lay;
But at nine o'clock he saw a sight
That made his hair turn gray.
At nine o'clock the old maid came in;
"I am so tired," she said;
She thought that all was well that night
So she didn't look under the bed.
She took out her teeth and her big glass eye,
And the hair from off her head;
The burglar, he had forty fits
As he watched from under the bed.
From under the bed the burglar crept,
He was a total wreck;
The old maid wasn't asleep at all
And she grabbed him by the neck.
She didn't holler, or shout or call,
She was as cool as a clam;
She only said, "The Saints be praised,
At last I've got a man!"
From under the pillow a gun she drew,
And to the burglar she said,
"Young man, if you don't marry me,
I'll blow off the top of your head!"
She held him firmly by the neck,
He hadn't a chance to scoot;
He looked at the teeth and the big glass eye,
And said, "Madam, for Pete's sake, shoot!"
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Pondering old ageHow do I know that my youth is all spent?
Well, my get up and go has got up and went.
But in spite of it all I am able to grin
when I recall where my get up has been.
Old age is golden-so I've heard it said-
but sometimes I wonder when I get into bed,
with my ears in a drawer and my teeth in a cup,
my eyes on the table until I wake up.
Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself,
"Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?"
And I'm happy to say as I close my door,
my friends are the same, perhaps even more.
When I was young, my slippers were red,
I could pick up my heels right over my head.
When I grew older, my slippers were blue,
but still I could dance the whole night through.
But now I am old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store and puff my way back.
The reason I know my youth is all spent,
my get up and go has got up and went.
But I really don't mind when I think, with a grin,
of all the grand places my get up has been.
Since I have retired from life's competition,
I accommodate myself with complete repetition.
I get up each morning, and dust off my wits,
pick up my paper and read the "obits".
If my name is missing, I know I'm not dead,
so I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed
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Good morning everyboomie.
Welcome to the weekend!
I'm off today, ergo I'm
hoppy OOPS HAPPY!
Hoppy is for Easter.
I guess you could say I'm ho ho happy though.
After all, here it is the Saturday before Christmas, we're going to be sunny and 65 degrees, I'm off, and I get to go dig all day, and put my back out, hopefully to find some
Easter eggs OOPS ARROWHEADS!!!
Easter eggs are for......................you know.
I guess I should get to bed. The Easter Bunny may not come if I'm not asleep.
Have a happy day everyone.
joe