And the winner is..........

Dispatcher: 9-1-1
Caller: Yeah, I'm having trouble breathing. I'm all out of breath. Darn....I think I'm going to pass out.
Dispatcher: Sir, where are you calling from?
Caller: I'm at a pay phone. North and Foster.
Dispatcher: ! Sir, an ambulance is on the way. Are you an asthmatic?
Caller: No
Dispatcher: What were you doing before you started having trouble breathing?
Caller: Running from the Police.

Sitting next to the Emperor, Mrs. Bush found the conversation an uphill task. To all her efforts at verbal engagement, the Emperor would smile and say "Yes" or "No," with an occasional "Thank You" tossed in for good measure.

Looking around her elegant surroundings, she complimented Hirohito on his official residence.

"Thank you," he said.

"Is it new?" pressed Mrs. Bush.

"Yes."

"Was the old palace just so old that it was falling down?" asked Mrs. Bush.

In his most charming, yet regal, matter, Hirohito replied, "No, I'm afraid that you bombed it."

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is that you load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. I said that the dog food is nutritionally complete, so I was going to try it again, although I probably shouldn't because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I had lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

(By now, practically everyone in the line was enthralled with my story, particularly a tall guy who was behind the woman I was talking to.)

Horrified, she asked if the dog food had poisoned me. I told her no; I had been sitting in the street scratching fleas and a car hit me.

I thought one guy was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard as he staggered out the door.

One time he sprained his ankle - possibly from falling off his wallet - so he drove to the doctor's house and called for him to come out and examine him. The medico reluctantly went to the car and, after looking at the ankle, said, "It's a slight sprain, that's all. Bathe it in hot water and rest. That's all you can do." Knowing his patient's reputation he added, "That'll be ten dollars, thanks."

"What for?" demanded skinflint.

"My professional advice."

"Nothing doing." Putting the car in gear he said, "I've decided not to take it."

The IRS auditor is not surprised when Ralph shows up with his attorney.

The auditor says, "Well, sir, you have an extravagant lifestyle and no full-time employment, which you explain by saying that you win money gambling. I'm not sure the IRS finds that believable."

"I'm a great gambler, and I can prove it," says Ralph. "How about a demonstration?"

The auditor thinks for a moment and said, "Okay. Go ahead."

Ralph says, "I'll bet you a thousand dollars that I can bite my own eye."

The auditor thinks a moment and says, "No way! It's a bet."

Ralph removes his glass eye and bites it.

The auditor's jaw drops. Ralph says, "Now, I'll bet you two thousand dollars that I can bite my other eye."

The auditor can tell Ralph isn't blind, so he takes the bet.

Ralph removes his dentures and bites his good eye.

The stunned auditor now realizes he has wagered and lost three grand, with Ralph's attorney as a witness. He starts to get nervous.

"Want to go double or nothing?" Ralph asks. "I'll bet you six thousand dollars that I can stand on one side of your desk, and pee into that wastebasket on the other side, and never get a drop anywhere in between."

The auditor, twice burned, is cautious now, but he looks carefully and decides there's no way this guy can manage that stunt, so he agrees again.

Ralph stands beside the desk and although he strains mightily, he can't make the stream reach the wastebasket on other side, so he pretty much urinates all over the desk.

The auditor leaps with joy, realizing that he has just turned a major loss into a huge win. But Ralph's attorney moans and puts his head in his hands.

"Are you okay?" the auditor asks.

"Not really," says the attorney. "This morning, when Ralph told me he'd been summoned for an audit, he bet me twenty thousand dollars that he could come in here and pee all over an IRS official's desk and that you'd be happy about it."

1. Two hard playing and drinking brothers lived in a small wheat-farming town. After a busy harvest one year they loaded a few dozen bottles into their battered old car and set out for their farm after the pubs had closed. The cars' lights were pretty useless, and this together with their inebriated state meant they got a bit lost and became locked onto the railway tracks that actually ran through the middle of town. The fact that they weren't actually steering the car didn't bother them for quite a while, but when they left the town the bumpy nature of their ride made them think they'd got a puncture. The driver stopped, accidentally over a cattle grating, and his brother staggered out to investigate. Falling through the grating so that his legs straddled the grid, he had a terrible time getting back into the car, but when he did - minus several chunks of skin - he told his brother "This terrible road's the problem. You'd have a problem even flying over it in a bloody aeroplane."
    

2. A very bashful and shy young farmer surprisingly turned up at a local dance in a neighbour's barn. He stood in the doorway quietly until the accordion player began a polka, when he went over to the buxom young daughter of the local mayor, who was about his own age, and asked her for the dance. The pranced about the floor spiritedly until the band called a halt, upon which the farmer pulled out a red and white dotted handkerchief, mopped his face, gazed approvingly at his partner and said in admiring tones, "Cripes, Amy, you don't half sweat good!"
    

3. The local schoolteacher in our small town urged her twenty-two pupils to be observant on the way to school so they could start the day by telling the others what marvellous or unique thing they had noticed. Most things were quite ordinary, but one that was never forgotten was the day I blurted out that I had seen 'a double-decker grasshopper'.
    

4. A doctor got lost in the mountains, so called into an isolated shack to ask directions. A haggard, dejected looking woman was trying to explain the route when her husky, tough looking son about three strode up and demanded, in no uncertain manner, that his mother feed him forthwith. The doctor became quite troubled as he watched the mother nurse her son, and he finally said, "That boy is too big to nurse. He should have been weaned long ago."

   "I know, I know", the woman wailed helplessly, "but every time I try, he throws rocks at me."
    

5. Two ladies were talking in a country store, and the conversation was the tragedy of an acquaintance who had lost both legs in a motorcar accident. "Marvellous how she gets around on those artificial legs of hers, isn't it?" one of them remarked.

   "Yes indeed," replied the other, "But I think she's still got her own feet, though."
    

6. Indian hawkers were a common sight in some areas years ago, but as kids we looked forward to their visits as a break in monotony. One old guy tried to sell my sister a watch. "Is it gold?" she asked.
    

7. "Gold now, for sure, little woman. Maybe go brass someday."

The following directive was issued by the Commanding Officer of a naval installation in the Mid-East and was obliviously directed at the Marines.

To: All Commands

Subject: Inappropriate T-Shirts

1. All commanders promulgate upon receipt.
2. The following T-shirts are no longer to be worn on or off base by any military or civilian personnel serving in the Middle East:
   • "Eat Pork or Die" [both English and Arabic versions]
   • "Shrine Busters" [Various. Show burning minarets or bomb/artillery shells impacting Islamic shrines. Some with unit logos.]
   • "Napalm, Sticks Like Crazy" [Both English and Arabic versions]
   • "Goat - it isn't just for breakfast any more." [Both English and Arabic versions]
   • "The road to Paradise begins with me." [Mostly Arabic versions but some in English. Some show sniper scope cross-hairs]
   • "Guns don't kill people. I kill people." [Both Arabic and English versions]
   • "Pork. The other white meat." [Arabic version]
   • "Infidel" [English, Arabic and other coalition force languages.]
3. The above T-shirts are to be removed from Post Exchanges upon receipt of this directive.
4. The following signs are to be removed upon receipt of this message:
   • "Islamic Religious Services Will Be Held at the Firing Range At 0800 Daily."
   • "Do we really need 'smart bombs' to drop on these dumb bastards?"
5. All commands are instructed to implement sensitivity training upon receipt.

We have a fox terrier by the name of Jasper. He came to us in the summer of 2001 from the fox terrier rescue program. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this type of adoption, imagine taking in a 10 year old child whom you know nothing about and committing to doing your best to be a good parent. Like a child, the dog came with his own idiosyncrasies. He will only sleep on the bed, on top of the covers, nuzzled as close to my face as he can get without actually performing a French kiss on me. Lest you think this is a bad case of 'no discipline,' I should tell you that Perry and I tried every means to break him of this habit including locking him in a separate bedroom for several! nights. The new door cost over $200. But I digress.

Five weeks ago we began remodeling our house. Although the cost of the project is downright obnoxious, it was 20 years overdue AND it got me out of cooking Thanksgiving for family, extended family and a lot of friends that I like more than family most of the time. I was however assigned the task of preparing 124 of my famous yeast dinner rolls for the two Thanksgiving feasts we did attend. I am still cursing the electrician for getting the new oven hooked up so quickly. It was the only appliance in the whole darn house that worked, thus the assignment.

I made the decision to cook the rolls on Wednesday evening to reheat on Thursday morning. Since the kitchen was freshly painted you can imagine the odor. Not wanting the rolls to smell like Sherwin Williams latex paint #586, I put the rolls on baking sheets and set them in the living room to rise for five hours. After three hours, Perry and I decided to go out to eat, returning in about an hour. An hour later the rolls were ready to go in the oven. It was 8:30 PM when I went to the living room to retrieve the pans. Much to my shock one whole pan of 12 rolls was empty. I called out to Jasper and my worst nightmare became a reality. He literally wobbled over to me. He looked like a combination of the Pillsbury dough boy and the Michelin Tire man wrapped up in fur. He groaned when he walked. I swear even his cheeks were bloated. I ran to the phone and called our vet. After a few seconds of uproarious laughter, he told me the dog would probably be OK, however, I needed to give him Pepto Bismol every 2 hours for the rest of the night.

God only knows why I thought a dog would like Pepto Bismol any more than my kids did when they were sick. Suffice to say that by the time we went to bed the dog was black, white and pink. He was so bloated we had to lift him onto the bed for the night. Naively thinking the dog would be all better by morning was very stupid on my part. We arose at 7:30 and as we always do first thing; put the dogs out to relieve themselves. Well, the damn dog was as drunk as a sailor on his first leave. He was running into walls and falling flat on his butt. Most of the time when he was walking, his front half was going in one direction and the other half was either dragging the floor or headed 90 degrees in another direction. He couldn't lift his leg to pee, so he would just walk and pee at the same time. When he ran down the small incline in our back yard he couldn't stop himself and nearly ended up running into the fence. His pupils were dilated and he was as dizzy as a loon.

I endured another few seconds of laughter from the vet (second call within 12 hours) before he explained that the yeast had fermented in his belly and that he was indeed drunk. He assured me that, not unlike most binges we humans go through, it would wear off after about 4 or 5 hours! Also we had to keep giving him Pepto Bismol.

Afraid to leave him by himself in the house, Perry and I loaded him up and took him with us to my sister's house for the first Thanksgiving meal of the day. My sister lives outside of Muskogee on a ranch, (10 to 15 minute drive). Rolls firmly secured in the trunk [124 less 12) and drunk dog leaning from the back seat onto the console of the car between Perry and I, we took off.

Now I know you probably don't believe that dogs burp, but believe me when I say that after eating a tray of risen unbaked yeast rolls, DOGS WILL BURP. These burps were pure Old Charter. They would have matched or beat any smell in a drunk tank at the police station. But that's not the worst of it. Now he was beginning to fart, and they smelled like baked rolls. God strike me dead if I am not telling the truth! We endured this for the entire trip to Karee's, thankful she didn't live any further away than she did.

Once Jasper was firmly placed in my sister's garage with the door locked, we finally sat down to enjoy our first Thanksgiving meal of the day. The dog was the topic of conversation all morning long and everyone made trips to the garage to witness my drunk dog, each returning with a tale of Jasper's latest endeavor to walk without running into something. Of course, as the old adage goes, "what goes in must come out" and Jasper was no exception. Granted if it had been me that had eaten 12 risen, unbaked yeast rolls, you might as well have put a concrete block up my behind.

But alas a dog's digestive system is quite different from yours or mine. I discovered this was a mixed blessing when we prepared to leave Karee's house. Having discovered his "packages" on the garage floor, we loaded him up in the car so we could hose down the floor. This was another naive decision on our part. The blast of water from the hose hit the poop on the floor and the poop on the floor withstood the blast from the hose. It was like Portland cement beginning to set up and cure. We finally tried to remove it with a shovel.

I (obviously no one else was going to offer their services) had to get on my hands and knees with a coarse brush to get the remnants off of the floor. And as if this wasn't degrading enough, the damn dog in his drunken state had walked through the poop and left paw prints all over the garage floor. These had to be brushed too. Well, by this time the dog was sobering up nicely so we took him home and dropped him off before we left for our second Thanksgiving dinner at Perry's sister's house. I am happy to report that as of today (Monday) the dog is back to normal both in size and temperament. He has had a bath and is no longer tricolor. None the worse for wear I presume. I am also happy to report that just this evening I found 2 risen unbaked yeast rolls hidden inside my closet door. It appears he must have come to his senses after eating 10 of them, and decided hiding 2 of them for later would not be a bad idea.

Now I'm doing research on the computer as to "How to clean unbaked dough from the Carpet." And how was your Day?

The more officers found, the stranger the case got. Here is what they "pieced" together:

JATO units are basically huge canisters of solid rocket fuel used to achieve "Jet Assisted Take Off", typically lifting big transport planes into the air from short, rough ground runways, or shooting overloaded planes from the decks of aircraft carriers.

They were not, repeat NOT, designed to augment the inherent boost factor of a 1967 Chevy Impala. But it is guessed that -- let's call him "Zippy" ---- didn't know that when he hooked one up to his ride.

He apparently chose his runway carefully, selecting a nice long, lonely piece of straight highway in good repair. Not guessing that he might need a bit more than five miles of zoom surface, Zippy's test track had, that far down the track, a gentle rise on a sloping turn. He kicked the tire, lit the fire, ran his Chev up to top cruising speed, and hit the ignition. Investigators know exactly where this happened, judging from the extended patch of burned and melted asphalt.

The pocket calculator boys figure Zip reached maximum thrust within 5 seconds, punching the Chevy to "well in excess of 350 miles per hour" and continued at "full burn" for another 20 to 25 seconds. Early in that little sprint, at roughly 2.5 miles down the road, the Human Hydro Shock stood on the brakes, melting them completely, blowing the tires and rapidly reducing all four skins to liquefied trails on the pavement.

Remember that little rise on the turn? That's where Zippy concluded his land speed record attempt and went for airborne honors, ultimately reaching an altitude of 125 feet and still climbing when his flight was abruptly terminated. We'll never know how far or how high he might have gone. A cliff face of solid rock kind of got in his way, posing a serious reaffirmation of the law of physics vis-a-vis two chunks of matter cannot occupy the same space at the same time. He gave it hell though, blasting a 6-foot crater. The best modern forensic science could do was ID the car's make and model year. As for Zippy, only trace evidence of bone, teeth, and hair were found in the crater.