Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties & local pubs to be alert and stay cautious when offered a drink from any woman.
Many females use a date rape drug on the market called 'Beer'.

The drug is found in liquid form and is available anywhere. It comes in bottles, cans, or from taps and in large 'kegs'. Beer is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars to persuade their male victims to go home and sleep with them.

A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a few units of Beer and then simply ask him home for no strings attached sex.

Men are rendered helpless against this approach. After several beers, men will often succumb to the desires to sleep with horrific looking women whom they would never normally be attracted.

After drinking beer, men often awaken with only hazy memories of exactly what happened to them the nght before, often with just a vague feeling that 'something bad' occurred.

At other times these unfortunate
men are swindled out of their life's savings, in a familiar scam known as 'a relationship'. !

In extreme cases, the female may even be shrewd enough to entrap the unsuspecting male into a longer term form of servitude an punishment referred to as 'marriage.' Men are much more susceptible to this scam after beer is administered and sex is offered by the predatory females.

Please! Forward this warning to every male you know.

If you fall victim to this 'Beer' scam and the women administering it, there are male support groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with similarly victimized men.

For the support group nearest you, just look up 'Golf Courses' in the phone book.

Q: Should I have a baby after 35?
A: No, 35 children is enough.

Q : I' m two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?
A: With any luck, right after he finishes college.

Q : What is the most reliable method to determine a baby's sex?
A: Childbirth.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she's borderline irrational.
A: So what's your question?

Q : My childbirth instructor says it's not pain I'll feel during labor, but pressure.
Is she right?
A: Yes, in the same way that a tornado might be called an air current.

Q: When is the best time to get an epidural?
A: Right after you find out you're pregnant.

Q : Is there any reason I have to be in the delivery room while my wife is in labor?
A: Not unless the word 'alimony' means anything to you.

Q: Is there anything I should avoid while recovering from childbirth?
A: Yes, pregnancy.

Q : Do I have to have a baby shower?
A: Not if you change the baby's diaper very quickly. ;

Q : Our baby was born last week. When will my wife begin to feel and act normal again?
A: When the kids are in college

Medicare Health Insurance, in a nutshell:
The phone rings and the lady of the house answers, "Hello."
"Mrs. Ward, please." "Speaking"
"Mrs. Ward, this is Doctor Jones at the Medical Testing Laboratory.
When your doctor sent your husband's biopsy to the lab yesterday, a biopsy from another Mr. Ward arrived as well, and we are now uncertain which one is your husband's. Frankly the results are either bad or terrible."
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Ward asks nervously.
"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the other one tested positive for AIDS. We can't tell which your husband's is."
"That's dreadful! Can't you do the test again?" questioned Mrs. Ward.
"Normally we can, but Medicare will only pay for these expensive tests one time."
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?"
"The people at Medicare recommend that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him.”

An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs.

He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite chocolate chip cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in rumpled posture. His aged and withered hand
trembled towards a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a spatula ................
"Oh no you don't"she said, "they're for the funeral."

A Marine stationed in Iraq recently received a “Dear John” letter from his girlfriend back home. It read as follows:
Dear Ricky,
I can no longer continue our relationship. The distance between us is just too great. I must admit that I have cheated on you twice, since you’ve been gone, and it’s not fair to either of us. I’m sorry. Please return the picture of me that I sent to you.
Love, Becky
The Marine, with hurt feelings, asked his fellow Marines for any snapshots they could spare of their girlfriends, sisters, ex-girlfriends, aunts, cousins etc. In addition to the picture of Becky, Ricky included all the other pictures of the pretty gals he had collected from his buddies.
There were 57 photos in that envelope….along with this note:
Dear Becky,
I’m so sorry, but I can’t quite remember who you are. Please take your picture from the pile, and send the rest back to me.

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A guy stuck his head into a barber shop and asked, “How long before I
can get a haircut?”
The barber looked around the shop full of customers and said, “About 2
hours.”
The guy left. A few days later the same guy stuck his head in the door
and asked, “How long before I can get a haircut?”
The barber looked around at the shop and said, “About 3 hours.”
The guy left. A week later the same guy stuck his head in the shop and
asked, “How long before I can get a haircut?”
The barber looked around the shop and said, “About an hour and half.”
The guy left. The barber turned to a friend and said, “Hey, Bill, do me
a favor. Follow that guy and see where he goes. He keeps asking how long
he has to wait for a haircut, but then he doesn’t ever come back.”
A little while later, Bill returned to the shop, laughing hysterically.
The barber asked, “So where does that guy go when he leaves?”
Bill looked up, tears in his eyes and said, “Your house.”

I can see my uncle doing this...lol

IN HER WORDS:!!!!! BEWARE!!!I dont know how many of you shop at Walmarts but this is how I became a victim of this scam! Two very serious good looking well-built cowboy type guys came over to your car as you are loading your bags. They are both shirtless and start wiping your windshield with a rag and windex, with their highly defined chest muscles and rock hard abs. It's impossible not to look. When you offer them a tip, they say "NO" and instead ask you for a ride to another store. You agree and they get in the back seat. On the way they start talking dirty about what they want to do to you. Then one of them climbs into the front seat and begins kissing your neck and begs you to pull over so he can make love to you!!! While this is going on the other guy steals your purse!!!! I had mine stolen last Tuesday, Wednesday, twice on Thursday, and again on Saturday, and also yesterday and most likely tommorrow!!!!

After three weeks in the Garden of Eden, God came to visit Eve.

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

"It is all so beautiful, God," she replied. "The sunrises and sunsets are
breathtaking, the smells, the sights, everything is wonderful, but I have
just one problem.

It's these breasts you have given me. The middle one pushes the other
two out and I am constantly knocking them with my arms, catching them
on branches and snagging them on bushes. They're a real pain," reported
Eve.

And Eve went on to tell God that since many other parts of her body
came in pairs, such as her limbs, eyes, ears, etc...she felt that having only
two breasts might leave her body more "symmetrically balanced".

"That's a fair point," replied God, "But it was my first shot at this,
you know. I gave the animals six breasts, so I figured that you needed only
half of those, but I see that you are right. I will fix it up right away."


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

Three weeks passed and God once again visited Eve in the Garden of Eden.

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

"Just fantastic," she replied, "But for one oversight. 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. Let's see...where did I put the useless boob?"

Now doesn't THAT make more sense than that crap about the rib?

Awwww hell go for it...lol

YEEEEE HAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!! Amen brother!!! Stand up and take notice!!!!

She called all of her Democrat neighbors together and said, 'If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat. Who will help me plant it?'

'Not I,' said the cow.

'Not I,' said the duck.

'Not I,' said the pig.

'Not I,' said the goose.

'Then I will do it by myself,' said the little red hen, and so she did. The wheat grew very tall and ripened into golden grain.

'Who will help me reap my wheat?' asked the little red hen.

'Not I,' said the duck..

'Out of my classification,' said the pig.

'I'd lose my seniority,' said the cow.

'I'd lose my unemployment compensation,' said the goose.

'Then I will do it by myself,' said the little red hen, and so she did.

At last it came time to bake the bread.

'Who will help me bake the bread?' asked the little red hen.

'That would be overtime for me,' said the cow.

'I'd lose my welfare benefits,' said the duck.

'I'm a dropout and never learned how,' said the pig.

'If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination,' said the goose.

'Then I will do it by myself,' said the little red hen.

She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share. But the little red hen said, 'No, I shall eat all five loaves.'

'Excess profits!' cried the cow. (Nancy Pelosi)

'Capitalist leech!' screamed the duck. (Barbara Boxer)

'I demand equal rights!' yelled the goose. (Jesse Jackson)

The pig just grunted in disdain. (Ted Kennedy)

And they all painted 'Unfair!' picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.

Then the farmer (Obama) came. He said to the little red hen, 'You must not be so greedy.'

'But I earned the bread,' said the little red hen.

'Exactly,' said Barack the farmer. 'That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle.'

And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, 'I am grateful, for now I truly understand.'

But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her. She never again baked bread because she joined the 'party' and got her bread free. And all the Democrats smiled. 'Fairness' had been established.

Individual initiative had died, but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared...so long as there was free bread that 'the rich' were paying for.

EPILOGUE

Bill Clinton is getting $12 million for his memoirs.

Hillary got $8 million for hers.

That's $20 million for the memories from two people, who for eight years, repeatedly testified, under oath, that they couldn't remember anything.

IS THIS A GREAT BARNYARD OR WHAT?

Woman's Answer: One!
ONLY ONE!!!! And do you know WHY? because no one else in this house knows HOW to change a light bulb! They
don't even know that the bulb is BURNED OUT!! They would sit in the dark for THREE DAYS before they figured it out.
And,once they figured it out, they wouldn't be able to find the #&%!* light bulbs despite the fact that they've been in the SAME CABINET for the past 17 YEARS! But if they did, by some miracle of God, actually find them, 2 DAYS LATER, the chair they dragged to stand on to change the STUPID light bulb would STILL BE IN THE SAME SPOT!!!!! AND UNDERN EATH IT WOULD BE THE WRAPPER
THE FREAKING LIGHT BULBS CAME IN!!! BECAUSE NO ONE EVER PICKS UP OR CARRIES
OUT THE GARBAGE!!!! IT'S A WONDER WE HAVEN'T ALL SUFFOCATED FROM THE PILES OF GARBAGE THAT

ARE A FOOT DEEP THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE HOUSE!!
IT WOULD TAKE AN ARMY TO CLEAN THIS PLACE! AND
DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON WHO CHANGES
THE TOILET PAPER ROLL !!

I'm sorry.

What was the question?

"Watch out! You nearly broad-sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?"

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, ****, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on ****. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, **** sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I mosied down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

"He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

"You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke ****, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As **** and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers."

"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...

Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . . his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly.

Live While You Are Alive.

Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second chance.

As Ben Franklin said: In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria. In a number of carefully controlled
trials, scientists have demonstrated that if we drink 1 liter of water each day, at the end of the year we would have absorbed more than 1 kilo oEscherichia coli, (E. coli) - bacteria found in feces. In other words, we are consuming 1 kilo of poop. (that's over 2 pounds).
However, we do NOT run that risk when drinking wine & beer(or tequila,rum,whiskey or other liquor) because alcohol has to go through a purification process of boiling, filtering and/or fermenting.

Remember: Water = Poop, Wine = Health

Therefore, it's better to drink wine and talk stupid, than to drink water
and be full of sh*t .

There is no need to thank me for this valuable information:
I'm doing it as a public service

Thanks!

Really ?!?!? CanI have their phone numbers?

Hmmm makes me wish iwas 20 years younger and closer to 'Bama...lol

Amen Brother...lol I hope you have read all the posts here as well. All I did was ask a simple question as to why and it seems a few became defensive...oh well better luck next time...