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Shammy1989 MOD

Feeling 18 Again A 65-year-old woman is naked, jumping up and down on her bed, laughing and singing. Her husband walks into the bedroom and sees her. He watches her for awhile and then says, " You look ridiculous! What on Earth do you think you are doing?" She says, "I just got my check-up and my doctor says I have the breasts of an eighteen-year-old!" She starts laughing and jumping again. He says, "Yeah, right. And what did he say about your 65-year-old ass?" She says, "Your name never came up!"

Got him good...

Laziest Of All A site foreman had ten very lazy men working for him, so one day he decided to trick them into doing some work for a change. “I’ve got a really easy job today for the laziest one among you,” he announced. “Will the laziest man please put his hand up?” Nine hands went up. “Why didn’t you put your hand up?” he asked the tenth man. “Too much trouble,” came the reply.

hi shammy..

Good Day Shammy1989 :)

Pin Boys Before automatic bowling pinsetters were invented, "pin boys" manually line them up, 1914

I Will Survive Below are the new lyrics to 'I WILL SURVIVE' THE MALE VERSION At first I was afraid I was petrified By the ugly slapper that was lying by my side I would've drunk a little less, I would've tried to keep my head. If I'd known for just one second you'd Assault me in your bed. I tried to go, walk out the door, But you've been sitting on my legs and I Can't feel them anymore, And now you're sitting on my face, my nose Has vanished - not a trace, I only hope that your big knickers are not Made of liquorice lace I want to go, I've got to leave Before your fat and naked body makes me want to heave I Only hope that no one saw me walking home With such a slut Oh God the things that you can get up to when you're Half cut. I can't believe, I'm lying here. It's all 'cos of that f**king evil drink that We call beer You can all sod your beer goggles, shit I must Have been blind To mistake that Hoover dam for a sexy young behind. Please let me go, I'm getting scared There's nothing I can do to stop those ugly Breasts from being bared. I think that I must have been mad, God what Made me want to court her? With tits that look like Tesco bags I've just Filled up with water It's time to go, run out the door She's started hinting that she wants sex on her Dirty lino floor I don't think there's anything worse Than the al-co-hol-ics curse. I WILL SURVIVE! To which the girls reply... THE FEMALE VERSION At first I was afraid, I was petrified. By the ugly w*nker that was lying by my side. I would've drunk a little less, I would've Tried to keep my head, If I'd know for just one second I'd be in Your crusty bed... I tried to go, walk out the door. But I laughed so hard at your small knob that I fell on the floor. Your butts a pimply mess, it's just a broken-out disgrace, But I'd rather look at that, than at your F**king ugly face...! I want to go, I've got to leave. Your talk of chicks and football really makes Me want to heave. I only know I've got to stop my drinking Sprits and the beer Coz when I looked at you last night, hell, you Looked just like Richard Gere! I can't believe, that we both shagged. You should be wearing concrete shoes or should be Simply bound and gagged. I'm f**king off right now, I'm jumping on the Flippin' train And I'm not stopping till I'm home and washed Your greebies down the drain. Please let me go, I feel quite sick, We had the worst sex in the world and you're A bloody ugly prick I should have shagged your gorgeous mate, at least he's got a lovely flat But no I go and trust the booze and now I'm Stuck with you, you twat. It's time to go, run out the door. You look so ugly it should really be against the law. I'm going to give up all the booze, I'm gonna Have no stupid fun Coz waking up beside you makes me Want to be a nun! I WILL SURVIVE!

Letter of Apology When I came into the office this morning, I noticed a sort of general feeling of unfriendliness, and since several of you have called me a "dirty son of a bitch" to my face, I knew I must have done something wrong at the office Christmas Party. The Office Manager called me from the hospital today and as this is my last day, I'd like to take this way of apologizing to all of you. I would prefer speaking to everyone personally, but all of you seem to go deaf and dumb whenever I try to talk to you. First, to our dear and beloved boss, I am sorry for all the things I called you Friday afternoon. I'm very much aware that your father is not a baboon, nor your mother a Chinese whore. Your wife is a delightful woman, and my story of you buying her for 50 cents in Tijuana was strictly a figment of my imagination. Your children are undoubtedly yours, too. About the water cooler incident, you'll never know how badly I feel about it, and I hope you didn't hurt your head when they were trying to get the glass jug off. To Mary, I express my deepest regrets. In my own defence, I must remind you that you seemed to enjoy our little escapade on the stairway as much as I did until the bannister broke and we fell eight feet to the second floor landing. In spite of the rupture you incurred when I landed on top of you, I am sure you will admit that when we landed it was one of the biggest thrills you have ever had. Sam, you old cuss, you've just got to forgive me for that little prank I played on you. If I had known you were goosey, I'd have never done it. It would have been a lot worse if that fat lady hadn't been standing right under the window you jumped through. She really broke your fall a lot. People have been killed falling three stories. Gene, I regret telling the fireman it was you who turned in the false alarm. But, of course, I had no way of knowing they would make such a bad report of it. Those fire hoses sure have a lot of pressure don't they? And the water is cold!! Don, I know how you must feel about me. Opening the door to the broom closet suddenly must have startled you and Millie quite badly, and to think how hard you bumped your chin on the shelf when you bent over to pull up your pants, it makes me sick. We'll have to get together for dinner some night after the dentist finishes your plates. Nancy, the only excuse I can offer for stealing all your clothes and hiding them when I found you passed out in the ladies room, is that I was drunk. Also, I want you to know I was very embarrassed when I couldn't remember where I hid them and you had to go home in that old sofa cover. Running your falsies up the flag pole was a bit too much, but like I said, I was a little drunk. To all of you, I am sorry. Setting Jan's panties on fire seemed funny at the time, and it makes me sad to hear that her husband is divorcing her because of it. Urinating in everyone's drink was in bad taste, and not telling them about it until all the drinks were gone was even worse. Now that I have apologized to all of you and know that I am forgiven, I will do my darnest to come to the picnic......

The vulture and the little girl The vulture and the little girl, 1993. Original title: Struggling Girl. The vulture is waiting for the girl to die and to eat her. The photograph was taken by South African photojournalist, Kevin Carter, while on assignment to Sudan. He took his own life a couple of month later due to depression. In March 1993 Kevin Carter made a trip to Sudan. Near the village of Ayod, Carter found a girl who had stopped to rest while struggling to a United Nations feeding centre, whereupon a vulture had landed nearby. Careful not to disturb the bird, he waited for twenty minutes until the vulture was close enough, positioned himself for the best possible image and only then chased the vulture away. At this point Carter was probably not yet aware that he had shot one of the most controversial photographs in the history of photojournalism. “The parents of the children were busy taking food from the plane, so they had left their children only briefly while they collected the food. This was the situation for the girl in the photo taken by Carter. A vulture landed behind the girl. To get the two in focus, Carter approached the scene very slowly so as not to scare the vulture away and took a photo from approximately 10 meters. He took a few more photos before chasing the bird away”. The photograph was sold to The New York Times where it appeared for the first time on March 26, 1993. Practically overnight hundreds of people contacted the newspaper to ask whether the child had survived, leading the newspaper to run a special editor’s note saying the girl had enough strength to walk away from the vulture, but that her ultimate fate was unknown. Because of this, Carter was bombarded with questions about why he did not help the girl, and only used her to take a photograph. As with many dramatic photographs, Carter came under criticism for this shot. The St. Petersburg Times in Florida wrote: “The man adjusting his lens to take just the right frame of her suffering, might just as well be a predator, another vulture on the scene”. The attitude that public opinion condemned was not only that of taking the picture instead of chasing the vulture immediately away, but also the fact that he did not help the girl afterwards –as Carter explained later- leaving her in such a weak condition to continue the march by her self towards the feeding center. However, Carter was working in a time when photojournalists were told not to touch famine victims for fear of spreading disease. Carter estimated that there were twenty people per hour dying at the food centre. The child was not unique. Regardless, Carter often expressed regret that he had not done anything to help the girl, even though there was not much that he could have done. In 1994, Kevin Carter won the Pulitzer prize for the disturbing photograph of a Sudanese child being stalked by a vulture. That same year, Kevin Carter committed suicide. Carter is the tragic example of the toll photographing such suffering can take on a person. Along with his famous photograph, Carter had captured such things as a public necklacing execution in 1980s South Africa, along with the violence of the time, including shootouts and other executions. Carter spoke of his thoughts when he took these photographs: “I had to think visually. I am zooming in on a tight shot of the dead guy and a splash of red. Going into his khaki uniform in a pool of blood in the sand. The dead man’s face is slightly grey. You are making a visual here. But inside something is screaming: ‘My God!’. But it is time to work. Deal with the rest later. If you can’t do it, get out of the game”. The suicide: On 27 July 1994 Carter drove his way to Parkmore near the Field and Study Center, an area where he used to play as a child, and committed suicide by taping one end of a hose to his pickup truck’s exhaust pipe and running the other end to the driver’s side window. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning at the age of 33. Carter’s suicide note read: “I’m really, really sorry. The pain of life overrides the joy to the point that joy does not exist… I am depressed… without phone… money for rent … money for child support… money for debts… money!!!… I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings and corpses and anger and pain… of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often police, of killer executioners… I have gone to join Ken [recently deceased colleague Ken Oosterbroek] if I am that lucky”.