[willys36@aol.com]

ACE TORY
bi
A. Ninny Moose

Wants pawn term dare worsted ladle gull hoe lift wetter murder inner ladle cordage honor itch offer lodge, dock florist. Disk ladle gull orphan worry ladle cluck wetter putty ladle rat hut, end, fur disk raisin pimple colder Ladle Rat Rotten Hut.

Wan moaning, Rat Rotten Hut’s murder colder inset; “Ladle Rat Rotten Hut, heresy ladle basking winsome burden barter end shirker car keys. Tick disk ladle basking tudor cordage offer grain murder hoe lifts honor udder site offer florist – shaker lake. Dun stopper laundry rote; dun stopper peck floors; dun daily-daily inner florist; an yonder nor sorghum stenches, dun stopper torque wet strainers.”

“Hoe-cake, murder,” resplendent Ladle Rat Rotten Hut, end tickle ladle basking end stuttered oft. Honor wrote tudor cordage offer grain murder, Ladle Rat Rotten Hut mitten anomalous woof.

“Wail, wail, wail,” set disk wicket woof, “evanescent Ladle Rat Rotten Hut! Wares or putty gull goring wizard ladle basking?”

“Armor goring tumor grain murder’s,” reprisal ladle gull. “Grammar’s seeking bet. Arm ticking arson burden barter end shirker car keys.”

“O hoe! Heifer blessing woke,” setter wicket woof. Butter taught tomb shelf, “Oil ticket shirt court tudor cordage offer grain murder. Oil ketchup wetter letter. End den - - o-bore!”

Soda wicket woof tucker shirt court, end whinny ratchet cordage offer grain murder, picket inner winnow an sore debtor pore oil worming worse lion inner bet. Inner flesh disk woof lipped honor betting adder rope. Zany pool don a grain murder’s nut cup end gnat gun, any curdle dope inner bet.

Inner ladle wile, Ladle Rat Rotten Hut a raft adder cordage an ranker dough ball.

“Comb ink, Sweat hard,” setter wicket woof, disgracing is verse.

“O, grammar,” crater ladle gull. “Wart bag icer gut!”

“Buttered luck chew whiff, doling,” whiskered disk ratchet woof, wetter wicket small.

“O, grammar, water bag noise! A nervous sore suture anomalous prognosis!”

Buttered small chew whiff,” inserted woof, ants mouse worse waddling.

“O, grammar, water bag mousy gut! A nervous sore suture bag mouse!”

Doze worry on forger nut gull’s lest warts. Oil offer sodden, throne offer carvers an sprinkling offer bet, disk curl an bloat Thursday woof ceased pore Ladle Rat Rotten Hut an garbled erupt.

Mural; Yonder nor sorghum stenches shut ladle gulls stopper torque wet strainers.

[Madd Syntst]

36 Willy, you get the blue star for the day. It took me a while, but I got it!

[helrazr3]

hhhhuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh??????????????????????
im sorry my polish is showing i dont get it <img src="confused.gif" border="0">

[hotrodit]

If that was a yes to the Hot Rod Reunion why didn't ya just say yes! lol, was pretty good though whatever it was.

[willys36@aol.com]

helrazr - take it nice and slow. It's like those grids that you stare at for a minute or two when suddenly the picture pops out!

hotrodit - did miss something about the Hot Rod Reunion? I plan on being there if that's what the question is for me.

[hotrodit]

is that with old yella Willys ??

[willys36@aol.com]

Absolutely!!

[Halloweenking]

Usually don't do blonde jokes, but this seemed kinda fitting for the time of year


As a trucker in Wisconsin stops for a red light, a blonde
catches up. She jumps out of her car, runs up to his truck,
and knocks on the door. The trucker lowers the window, and
she says "Hi, my name is Heather and you are losing some
of your load."

The trucker ignores her and proceeds down the street. When
the truck stops for another red light, the girl again
catches up . She jumps out of her car, runs up and knocks
on the door. Again, the trucker lowers the window.

As if they've never spoken, the blonde says brightly, "Hi,
my name is Heather, and you are losing some of your load!"
Shaking his head, the trucker ignores her again and
continues down the street.

At the third red light, the same thing happens again. All
out of breath, the blonde gets out of her car, runs up,
knocks on the truck door. The trucker lowers the window.
Again she says "Hi, my name is Heather, and you are losing
some of your load!"

When the light turns green, the trucker revs up and races
to the next light. When he stops this time, he hurriedly
gets out of the truck, and runs back to the blonde. He
knocks on her window, and as she lowers it, he says "Hi,
my name is Kevin, it is winter and I'm driving the SALT
TRUCK!!"

HK

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: Halloweenking ]</p>

[rs]

(This is why math is taught in school.)
I was riding to work yesterday when I observed a female driver cut right in front of a pickup truck, causing him to have to drive onto the shoulder to avoid hitting her. This evidently angered the driver enough that he hung his arm out his window and "flipped" the woman off.
"Man, that guy is stupid," I thought to myself. I ALWAYS smile nicely and wave in a sheepish manner whenever a female does anything to me in traffic, and here's why:
I drive 48 miles each way every day to work. That's ! 96 miles each day. Of these, 16 miles each way is bumper-to-bumper. Most of the bumper-to-bumper is on an 8 lane highway.

There's 7 cars every 40 feet for 32 miles. That works out to be 982 cars every mile, or 31,424 cars. Even though the rest of the 32 miles is not bumper to bumper, figure I pass at least another 4000 cars.
That brings the number to something like 36,000 cars that I pass every day.
Statistically, half of these are driven by females. That's 18,000 women drivers!

In any given group of females, 1 in 28 has PMS. That's 642.
According to Cosmopolitan, 70% describe their love life as dissatisfying or unrewarding. That's 449.
According to the National Institute of Health, 22% of all females have seriously considered suicide or homicide. That's 98
And 34% describe men as their biggest problem. That's 33.
According to the National Rifle Association, 5% of all females carry weapons, and this number is increasing.
That means that EVERY SINGLE DAY, I drive past at least one female that has a lousy love life, thinks men are her biggest problem, has seriously considered suicide or homicide, has PMS, and is armed.
Flip one off? ... I think not.

[rs]

Two men from Texas were sitting at a bar, when a young lady nearby began to choke on a hamburger.

As she gasped and gagged, one Texan turned to the other and said, "That little gal is havin' a bad time. I'm agonna go over there and help."

He ran over to the young lady, held both sides of her head in his big, Texan hands, and asked, "Kin ya swaller?"

Gasping, she shook her head no.

He asked, "Kin ya breathe?"

Still gasping, she shook her head no.

With that, he yanked up her skirt, pulled down her panties and licked her butt. The young woman was so shocked that she coughed up the piece of hamburger and began to breathe on her own.

The Texan sat back down with his friend and said, "Ya know, it's sure amazin' how that hind-lick maneuver always works."

[rs]

A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers...like a telephone... on his hand, then talking into his hand. The bartender walks over and tells him this is a very tough neighborhood and he doesn't need any trouble here.
The guy says, "You don't understand. I'm very hi-tech. I had a phone installed in my hand because I was tired of carrying the cellular."
The bartender says "Prove it." The guy dials up a number and hands his hand to the bartender. The bartender talks into the hand and carries on a conversation.
"That's incredible", says the bartender... "I would never have believed it!"
"Yeah", said the guy, "I can keep in touch with my broker, my wife, you name it. By the way, where is the men's room?" The bartender directs him to the men's room.
The guy goes in and 5, 10, 20 minutes go by and he doesn't return. Fearing the worst given the neighborhood, the bartender goes into the men's room. There is the guy spread-eagle on the wall. His pants are pulled down and he has a roll of toilet paper up his butt. "Oh my god!" said the bartender. "Did they rob you? Are you hurt?"
The guy turns to him and says: "No, I'm ok..... I'm just waiting for a fax.

[rs]

Having a bad day
For all of you who occasionally have a really bad day - when you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you DON'T know!!!

Now get this. I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?"

Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. She had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again.

When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're a *******!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "*******," and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a *******!" It would always cheer me up.

Later in the year the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me, I would have to stop calling the *******.

Then one day I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said,"That's because you're a *******!"

The reason I took the time to tell you this story, is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it. Just dial 823-4863.

[Keep reading, it gets better.]

The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro comes flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy. I was here first!" The guy climbed out of his Camaro, completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this guy's a *******, there, sure a lot of ********* in this world. I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I hunted for another place to park.

A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 823-4863 and yelling,"You're *******!"(It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and thought I better call this guy too.

He answered the phone and said,"Hello."

I said, "Is this the man with the black Camaro for sale?"

"Yes, it is."

"Can you tell me where I can see it?"

"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th street. It's a yellow house and the car's parked right out front."

I said, "What's your name?"

"My name is Don Hansen."

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home in the evenings."

"Listen Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes,"

"Don, you're a *******!" And I slammed the phone down.

After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer.

For a while things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two ********* to call. Then, after several months of calling the ********* and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a solution:

First, I had my phone dial ******* #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello."

I yelled "You're a *******!" but I didn't hang up.

The ******* said, "Are you still there?"

I said, "Yeah."

He said, "Stop calling me."

I said, "No."

He said, "What's your name, Pal?"

I said, "Don Hansen."

He said, "Where do you live?"

"1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front."

"I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers."

"Yeah, like I'm really scared, *******!" and I hung up.

Then I called ******* #2. He answered, "Hello."

I said, "Hello, *******!"

He said, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?"

"I'll kick your butt."

"Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right over, *******!" And I hung up.

Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my gay lover as soon as he got home.

Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W. 34th Street. After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing.

Glorious!

Watching two ********* kicking the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars - with 10 officers clad in rubber gloves standing idly by and a police helicopter hovering above was one of the greatest experiences of my life!

Name withheld to protect the guilty.

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: rs ]</p>

[crazy larry]

three out of four people make up 75% of the worlds population.

I'm running late for work one morning, hauling ***** down the highway, when I notice a law dog ontop of an over pass with a radar gun inhand.
pulled over.
him: what's the hurry?
me: late for work.
him: where you work at?
me: hospital.
him: whattya do?
me: I'm a rectum stretcher.
h: what?
m: A rectum stretcher.
h: what's that?
m: well, I put my finger into a rectum, wiggle my finger around, til I have the rectum stretched out to @ 2-3 inches.
h: well I'll be. then what?
m: well I keep on wiggling and stretching and wiggling and stretching until I have this ********* stretched out to SIX feet.
h: what on earth do you do with a SIX foot *********? the law dog says to me...
Me: You park him on top of an overpass, give him a radar gun, and tell him to write tickets.

[hotrodit]

LOL, nearly peed my pants!

[tm454]

from Full Throttle Mc mag;

"In All Fairnes to the Ladies"

MEN:

..."The trouble with women is they get all excited about nothing and then MARRY HIM." -Cher-

...only a man would buy a $500 car and put a $4000 stereo in it.

..."I'm getting more exercise"...the batteries in the remote are dead.

..."Woman driver"...someone who dosn't speed, tailgate, swear, make obscene gestures and has a better driving record than me.

..."I missed you"...I can't find my sock drawer, the kids are hungry and we are out of toilet paper.

..."It's a really good movie"...It's got guns, knives, fast cars and Pamela Sue Anderson.


..."Honey have you lost weight?"...I just spent our last $180 on a cordless drill.


..."I bought you a present."...It was free scraper night at the ball game.


..."Thats womans work"...Its difficult, dirty,and thankless.


..."I broke up with her"... She dumped me.


Todd