Kat’s Song.

Hey there pretty angel where have you gone.

You with your good heart and soft tender touch.

You with your sad blue eyes.

Where have you gone?

 

Here I am just sittin’ here thinking.

Thinking about your love and how I miss you so.

How you showed me true love and how to love again.

I miss you so; miss your smile; your face; your heart.

 

Oh my love come back to me.

Oh my dear sweet angel know I miss you so;

Know that my heart is yours.

For now and always my heart belongs to you.

 

With me in my world and you in yours;

Know that I will always love you;

And that my heart belongs to you.

My heart and soul will always be yours.

 

Know this much my dear sweet angel;

Whatever may part us,

Whatever may come between us;

Wherever you may go; I belong to you.

Hey pretty angel, where have you gone?

 

© Nicky D Sarti 2008.

Wine Truck...

You've been hit by the

|^^^^^^^^^^^^^^| ||
|...WINE TRUCK.....| ||'|";, ___.
|_..._..._______===|=||_|__|..., ] -
"(@)'(@)"" "''"**|(@)(@)***''(@)

ONCE YOU'VE BEEN HIT, YOU HAVE TO HIT 5 WOMEN WHO LIKE TO HAVE FUN; INCLUDING THE ONE WHO SENT IT TO YOU.

IF YOU GET HIT AGAIN YOU'LL KNOW YOU REALLY HAVE A PROBLEM!

WHEN GIRLS DRINK TOO MUCH...

1. WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE OUR PURSE IS.

2. WE BELIEVE THAT DANCING WITH OUR ARMS OVERHEAD AND WIGGLING OUR BUTT WHILE YELLING "WOO-HOO!" IS TRULY THE SEXIEST DANCE MOVE AROUND!

3. WE'VE SUDDENLY DECIDED THAT WE WANT TO KICK SOMEONE'S ASS AND HONESTLY BELIEVE WE COULD DO IT TOO.

4. IN OUR LAST TRIP TO PEE, WE REALISE THAT WE NOW LOOK MORE LIKE A HOMELESS HOOKER THAN THE GODDESS WE WERE JUST FOUR HOURS AGO.

5. WE START CRYING AND TELLING EVERYONE WE SEE THAT WE LOVE THEM SOOOOO MUCH.

6. WE GET EXTREMELY EXCITED AND JUMP UP AND DOWN EVERY TIME A NEW SONG PLAY'S BECAUSE "OH MY GOD! I LOVE THIS SONG!"

7. WE'VE FOUND A DEEPER/SPIRITUAL SIDE TO THE GEEK SITTING NEXT TO US.

8. WE'VE SUDDENLY TAKEN UP SMOKING AND BECOME REALLY GOOD AT IT.

9. WE YELL AT THE BARTENDER, WHO WE BELIEVE CHEATED US BY GIVING US JUST LEMONADE, BUT THAT'S JUST BECAUSE WE CAN NO LONGER TASTE THE GIN.

10. WE THINK WE ARE IN BED, BUT OUR PILLOW FEELS STRANGELY LIKE THE KITCHEN FLOOR (OR THE MOP).

11. WE FAIL TO NOTICE THAT THE TOILET LID IS DOWN WHEN WE SIT ON IT.

12. WE TAKE OUR SHOES OFF BECAUSE WE BELIEVE IT IS THEIR FAULT THAT WE'RE HAVING PROBLEMS WALKING STRAIGHT.

SEND THIS ALONG TO ALL THE GIRLS YOU KNOW WHO LIKE TO HAVE FUN. MAKE THEM LAUGH AT THEMSELVES LIKE YOU PROBABLY DID.... SADLY, MANY ARE TRUE!

And remember...
"A clean house is the sign of a wasted life"

A Wonky Donkey...

What do you call a Donkey with one leg?
A Wonky Donkey.

What do you call a Donkey with one leg and one eye?
A Winky Wonky Donkey.

What do you call a Donkey with one leg, one eye and making love?
A Bonky Winky Wonky Donkey.
(Keep with me here guys)

What do you call a Donkey with one leg, one, making love and farting?
A Stinky Bonky Winky Wonky Donkey.

What do you call a Donkey with one leg, one eye, making love, farting while wearing blue suede shoes?
A Honky Tonky Stinky Bonky Winky Wonky Donkey.

What do you call a Donkey with one leg, one eye, making love, farting while wearing blue suede shoes and playing a piano?
A Plinky Plonky Honky Tonky Stinky Bonky Winky Wonky Donkey.

What do you call a Donkey with one leg, one eye, making love, farting while wearing blue suede shoes, playing a piano and driving a bus?

A bloody talented smart ass!!!

Cycle Of Life Is Wrong...

The life cycle is all backwards. You should start out dead and get it out of the way. Then, you wake up in an old age home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy; go collect your pension, then when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work 40 years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink alcohol, you party, you're generally promiscuous and you get ready for High School. You go to primary school, you become a kid , you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a baby, and then...
You spend your last 9 months floating peacefully in luxury, in spa-like conditions; central heating, room service on tap, larger quarters every day, and then, you finish off as an orgasm.

I rest my case.

Revised version of Gloria Gaynor’s I will Survive...

At first I was afraid, I was petrified.
When you said you had 10 inches, Lord I almost died.
But I'd spent oh so many years just waiting for a man that long.
That I grew strong and knew that I could take you on. But there you are...
another lie,
I was geared up for a Big Mac and you've brought me a French fry
I should have known it was bullshit, just a sad, pathetic dream.
Should have known no anaconda would be lurking in those jeans...
Go on now go... walk out the door.
Don't you promise me 10 inches then turn up with only 4
Weren't you a prat to think that I wouldn't catch you out
Don't you know we're only joking when we say size doesn't count!
(Chorus)
I will survive, I will survive
Cos as long as I have batteries my sex life is
gonna thrive!
I will always have good sex with a handful of latex?
I will survive,
I will survive . . .hey hey.
It took all my self-control not to laugh out loud,
When I saw your little wiener standing tall and proud.
But to hell with all your ego's and to hell with all your needs.
Now I'm saving all my loving' for a cordless multi-speed.
Go on now go... you'd better flee
Last time I saw a prick that small was on my brother... he was 3..
I should have asked for confirmation, should have asked for referees
Then I wouldn't have you waving that wee winky thing at me
Go on now go... just hit the track.
Don't you bring me home no tiddlers 'cos I'll always throw them back.
The only thing that I could do with a prick as small as yours
Is to stick it with a toothpick, dip it in tomato sauce.
(Chorus)
Go on now go... get out of my sight,
I'm going back to my appliance 'cos I know it's length is right.
And if I ever see your tiny truncheon standing t my door.
You'll be counting up your inches as you pick them off the floor
Go on now go...

Dick Van Dyke....

A strikingly handsome young man walked into the office of a Hollywood agent with his resume and portfolio in hand. The agent reviewed the young man's slim resume and small portfolio with the care that was deserving of his fine young specimen.

"You have the very obvious good looks and excellent demeanour of an actor. Tell me, have you had any roles that I might be aware of."

"Other than the requisite high school and college plays, no sir," said the handsome young man.

"I dare say I know the reason why, with a name like yours," said the agent.

"Sir?"

"Your name. Penis Van Lesbian. That's not a name that will go far in Hollywood. I'd love to represent you, but you'll have to change your name."

"Sir," the handsome young man protested, "The Van Lesbian name was my father's, my grandfather's and his father's name. We have carried this name for generations and I will not change it for Hollywood or any other reason."

"If you won't change your name, I cannot represent you young man."

"Then I bid you farewell -- my name will not change." With that, Penis Van Lesbian left the agents office never to return.

Five Years Later: The Hollywood agent returned to his office after lunch with some producers and shuffled through his mail. Mostly junk mail, trade journals and the like. There was one letter. He opened the envelope and removed the letter. As he unfolded the fine linen paper, a check dropped from the folds and onto his desk. He looked at the check. It was for 50,000 dollars! He read the letter:

Dear Sir:

Several years ago, I entered your office determined to become an actor. You refused to represent me unless I changed my name. I objected, saying the Penis Van Lesbian name had been carried for generations and left your office. However, upon leaving, I chanced to reconsider my hastiness and after considerable reflection, I decided to heed your advice and endeavoured to change my name. Now I am a famous actor with many roles and known to millions worldwide.
Having achieved this fame and fortune, it is often that I think back to my meeting with you and your insistence that I change my name. I owe you a debt of gratitude, so please accept this check with my humble thanks, for it was your idea which has brought me to such wealth and fame.

Very Sincerely Yours,
Dick Van Dyke

New Virus Warning... Please Read....

WARNING - WARNING - WARNING

If you receive an email entitled "Bedtimes," delete it IMMEDIATELY. Do not open it. Apparently this one is pretty nasty. It will not only erase everything on your hard drive, but it will also delete anything on disks within 20 feet of your computer. It demagnetises the strips on ALL of your credit cards. It reprograms your ATM access code, screws up the tracking on your VCR, and uses subspace field harmonics to scratch any CD's you attempt to play. It will program your phone auto dial to call only 1-800 numbers.

This virus will mix antifreeze into your fish tank.
IT WILL CAUSE YOUR TOILET TO FLUSH WHILE YOU ARE SHOWERING. FOR GOD'S SAKE, ARE YOU LISTENING??
It will leave dirty underwear on the coffee table when you are expecting company. It will replace your shampoo with Nair and your Nair with Rogaine.

If the "Bedtimes" message opened in a Windows 95/98 environment, it will leave the toilet seat up and leave your hair dryer plugged in dangerously close to a full bathtub. It will not only remove the forbidden tags from your mattresses and pillows, it will also refill your Skim milk with whole milk.

** WARN AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN. **

And if you don't send this to 50000 people in 20 seconds, you'll fart so hard that your right leg will spasm and shoot straight out in front of you, sending sparks that will ignite the person nearest you.
Send this warning to everyone.

(If you are a blonde, this is a Joke...

Don't tell me this isn't funny! I'll know that you’re lying!!!)

How To Write A Goodbye Letter....

A letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner...

Dear Audrey:

I know the counsellor said we shouldn't contact each other during
our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of things.

I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about
looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says... "There's no one like you, Audrey." I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close.

Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingo’s and brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Jugs you wouldn't believe and an ass like a tortoise shell. Every man's dream, right?

But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought,
look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes. But you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Audrey? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don’t know, maybe I'm just growing up a little.

Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt,
I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It
wasn't just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some niggling feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there, Audrey, to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Audrey, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.

Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at Pontins last
year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagne. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad too. 'Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Audrey ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex aid."

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining
order. I mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Audrey, She really is. So we're drinking in a hot bath and talking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing and that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fuelled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you?

It's true, Audrey. In your heart you know it. Don't you think we
could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please please please let me
know, otherwise, can you let me know where the Satellite remote control is?

John

THE CAT'S ME-OW

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.

On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating.

I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a dozy to explain the bandage on my crown.

The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially the new acquisition was no problem, but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed! The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself!"

"I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"

(Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a second."

So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behaviour was not without consequence.

I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.

It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs.

She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.

I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.

Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.

Having been full briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing hysterical laughter.

At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

If they had only known!

Answer Phone Message...

The secret treatment was not self-help literature, but a new automated psychotherapy advice line:

• If you are obsessive-compulsive please press 1 repeatedly.
• If you are Co-dependant please ask someone to press 2.
• If you have Multiple Personalities, press 3, 4, 5 & 6.
• If you are Paranoid, we know who you are and what you want. Stay on the line so we can trace your call.
• If you are Delusional, press 7, and you call will be transferred to the Mother Ship.
• If you are Schizophrenic, listen carefully and a small voice will tell you which number to press.
• If you are Dyslexic, press 96969696969696.
• If you have a Nervous Disorder, please fidget with the hash key until a representative comes on the line.
• If you have Amnesia, press 8 and state your name, address, phone number, date of birth, national insurance number and your mother's and grandmother's maiden names.
• If you have Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, slowly and carefully press 000.
• If you have Bi-polar Disorder, please leave a message after the beep. Or before the beep. Or after the beep. Please wait for the beep.
• If you have Short Term Memory Loss, please try your call again later.
• If you have Low Self Esteem, please hang up. All our operators are far too busy to talk to you.