1 Three kids come down to the kitchen and sit around the breakfast table. The mother asks the oldest boy what hed like to eat. “Ill have some fuckin French toast,” he says. The mother is outraged at his language, hits him, and sends him upstairs. She asks the middle child what he wants. “Well, I guess that leaves more fuckin French toast for me,” he says. She is livid, smacks him, and sends him away. Finally she asks the youngest son what he wants for breakfast. “I dont know,” he says meekly, “but I definitely dont want the fuckin French toast.” Read More…

ET .. Call the mothership, quickly…

< face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2"> < face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">< face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">LAW 1: No matter how bad your last shot was, the worst is yet to come. This law does not expire on the 18th hole, since it has the supernatural tendency to extend over the course of a tournament, a summer and, eventually, a lifetime.

< face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2"> < face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">< face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="2">LAW 2: Your best round of golf will be followed almost immediately by your worst round ever. The probability of the latter increases with the number of people you tell about the former.

Read More…

Come closer .. I want to tell you something …

Traction .. I’m losing traction …