Archive for November, 2009

Death of Kapsak-A Short Story


Crispin Oduobuk

The big car pulls up slowly. Julie-Julie, smiling that special smile of hers, steps out gingerly. A stylish wave and she begins to swing up the short stairs. As the heavy machine zooms off, Kapsak lets go of the curtain and steps back.
“Who brought you home?” he says as Julie-Julie comes through.
“Oh, Kappy-Pappy dear,” Julie-Julie coos. “You’re home early.”
“I asked who brought you home?” Kapsak repeats, trying hard to keep his temper under control.
“That’s just Davie, my business partner,” Julie-Julie replies, pecking her husband lightly.
Backing away slightly, Kapsak points his thumb behind him. “Didn’t you introduce Ibrahim as your ‘business partner’ just the other day?”
“Oh Ibrahim!” Julie-Julie’s singsong voice usually thrills Kapsak. But right now he’s rather irritated by it.
“How many ‘business partners’ do you have?”
“Come on Kappy-Pappy! What is it with the Gestapo number?”
“You haven’t answered my question, Julie-Julie. And what is Gestapo?”
“Gestapo is – never mind. I’m going to shower and get ready else I’ll be late for my dinner engagement.”
With a swish of her luxuriant hair, Julie-Julie trots off. As the click-click-click sound of her high heels marching along the corridor travels back to Kapsak, the chewing stick he has been clutching slips to the ground.
Dejectedly, Kapsak slumps into an armchair. He still cannot bring himself to believing it. His wife walked away from him when he demanded an explanation from her! What an abomination! Eka Udo would never have done that. Eka Udo would never have allowed another man to bring her home except that man happened to be a close relative. Eka Udo would have been home when he got back from work. Eka Udo would have had water ready for him to bath with. Eka Udo would have given him a hot meal. Oh Eka Udo! Why did he ever leave Eka Udo ..?
The sharp blast of a car horn jerks Kapsak out of his reverie. Almost immediately, the click-click-click sound starts echoing through.
“Kappy-Pappy, I’m off. See you later.”
Startled, Kapsak dashes to the window. He espies his wife climbing into a car that is even bigger than the one that had brought her home earlier.
Jittery with rage, Kapsak drags himself back to his armchair. She always does this, he tells himself. Later she would say she had to go to the dinner so as to meet such-and-such an important personality who could help her secure a big contract.

Except at night, they hardly ever have time together. He often sits alone in the house waiting for Julie-Julie to come home. It would be nice to have kids to play with when one comes home from work. But – Oh, the house is too small, Kappy-Pappy dear. We need to save and move to a bigger place before we can start a family.
Kapsak never understands that. What does a big house have to do with having children? When he and Eka Udo had children, did they have a big house? But they died, didn’t they? And the doctor later said something about cramped living conditions making it easy for malaria to virtually wipe out his family. So maybe Julie-Julie has a point. All his children had died because of being cooped up in one room. All except Udo. Udo – Kapsak would not ordinarily admit it but the truth is he misses the boy so much. Udo’s full-faced smile. His quirky-chirpy ways. His innocent probing manner. Oh Udo! He’ll be approaching five now. Five! A big baby!
Sighing noisily, Kapsak tries to put thoughts of his son out of his mind. He has not seen the boy in over three years. And maybe he has gone the way his brother and sisters went. No. Not likely. Awadamoto would have told him. Awadamoto – it’s been a long time since Kapsak saw him.
Throwing on a shirt, Kapsak hurries off to the taxi rank in the business district.
“Kapsak, Kapsak!” Awadamoto cheers as his childhood friend approaches.
“Awadamoto! You have abandoned me!”
“Use that word lightly, Kapsak. You know who has done the most abandoning between me and you.”
“But Awad, we live here in town together.”
“Blame that wife of yours. I did not go to school and I don’t like going near people who make me remember that all the time.”
Kapsak has it in mind to say something good about his wife, but something else jumps to his mouth.
“Come Awad, what is Gestapo?”
“No, Gestapo.”
“Man, I don’t know. Where did you hear it?”
“Eh, I heard it somewhere. How is the village?”
“Exactly as you left it.”
“And …”
“Eka Udo?”
“Yes. How is she?”
“How does it concern you? Anyway, I heard some big chief from her mother’s village has taken her for his third wife.”

“What of my son? Is it well with him?”
“You would have known if you had bothered to go and check on him. Look, it’s my turn. I have to go else they’ll load the passengers in another person’s car. I’ll tell your mother I saw you. Or maybe I shouldn’t, since you did not even care to ask how she is doing.”
Bawling out to passengers to climb into his ramshackle taxi, Awadamoto ambles off …
It is pouring heavily when Julie-Julie returns. Outside, it is rain. Inside, it is confusion. Kapsak is at first happy to see her back safely. Then his happiness turns to anger as she carries on about what an exciting time she had. Finally his anger succumbs to her gentle caresses and passion rules their world …
Julie-Julie shoots out at first light.
“I’ve got to see someone urgently, Kappy-Pappy.”
Kappy-Pappy, that is my name now, Kapsak laughs to himself as he shuffles off to the construction site where he manages to earn a few bucks. On his way into the main yard, he ducks out of the way of a fast-moving four-wheel drive vehicle driven by an expatriate. Cursing lightly, he looks back to see the driver locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with luxuriant hair.
“No wonder he nearly killed me!” Kapsak spits out. “Early morning and he’s already–”
His mouth remains open but the words dry up like the water taps of the city. The woman with the expatriate turns momentarily, perhaps to pick up something from the backseat. In that instant, Kapsak sees clearly the woman for whom he had left his first wife and forsaken his family and people …
But he does not see the earthmover in front of him. Neither does he hear its powerful horns. And the driver of the earthmover does not see Kapsak …
By the time someone notices the crushed figure lying by the roadside, a blackening pool of blood has begun to seep into the earth.

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A Hitchhikers Story


My strange but true story starts twenty-five years ago, when I was sixteen. I had just hitched a ride back out to Interstate 90 as the sun was setting. The previous night I had been caught alone in the back country on the northern edge of Yellowstone National Park, in a freak May blizzard. A grizzly bear pawed the ground outside my tent in the middle of the night, scaring me half to death. That, however, is another story.

This strange-but-true-story starts with me standing on the side of the freeway ramp, with my thumb out. Even here in the valley near Livingston there was snow on the lilac flowers, and my tennis shoes were still wet from stumbling (lost) through the mountains earlier in the day. After an hour or two, a car finally pulled over, and this is how I met Violet.

It was tough to determine her age, but from the stories she told, I guessed she was in her fifties. She was on her way home from her brother’s trial in Bozeman. When I asked her what he was on trial for, she told me “He killed his girlfriend,” and in case I doubted her, she flipped over the newspaper on the seat. There she was on the front page, with the headline, “Sister Says He Should Be Hanged.”

“He just cut her up for no good reason,” she explained. Not knowing what to say, I said nothing. Although she seemed perfectly comfortable talking about it, she graciously changed the subject.

“Having a hard time getting rides here?” she asked. I told her I had waited a while. “That’s because a few years back a man was killed by a hitchhiker right on that highway down to Yellowstone,” she explained. “They found the hitchhiker in the woods near the road, roasting the man’s heart over a fire.”

“I guess that explains why it’s hard to get rides,” I agreed.

Violet had only had trouble with a hitchhiker once, she told me. “He was even younger than you, and he pulled a knife on me and tried to rob me.” When I asked her what she did, she replied casually, “Well, I just pulled out my gun on him and told him he better behave if he wanted a ride.” That seemed fair, I agreed.

She told me about the last time she was camping in Yellowstone, back in the fifties, when her husband was still alive. They and others saw a missile come out of the sky and hit a mountain, triggering an earthquake. Army officials came and told everyone in the area that it was a matter of national security, and they couldn’t say a word about it. I nodded and asked for a few more details.

Then there was the story about the UFO. An alien spacecraft had hovered over them during another camping trip, picking up their trailer in a “tractor beam” and lifting it off the hitch on the car, into the sky. It was dropped in a field nearby, and the sheriff, who was driving behind them at the moment, saw the whole thing.

Violet let me spend the night at her house, in her brothers room. In the morning, before driving me back out to the freeway, she even offered to let me take any of her brothers clothes or cowboy boots, since, “He won’t be needing them anymore.” I declined.

Later in the year, safely home in Michigan, I got a letter from Violet, wishing me a Merry Christmas. She had drawn a picture at the top of a dog in a spacesuit, which she labeled “Space Dog.” In the meantime, I had discovered that there had been an earthquake in the Yellowstone area when she claimed they saw the missile, and it had been strong enough to form a new lake.

I still was assuming that the killer hitchhiker was at least an exaggeration. It wasn’t. Years later I heard all the grizzly details in the news because they were letting the killer go free now that he was sane. Amidst the publicity, the authorities were having a hard time finding a town to place him in.

To this day, I still haven’t read or heard anything about an alien spacecraft that picks up camping trailers, but I’m waiting. Who knows? Montana is full of strange but true stories.

Steve Gillman hit the road at sixteen, and traveled the U.S. and Mexico alone at 17. Now 40, he travels with his wife Ana, whom he met in Ecuador. For travel stories, tips and a free e-book, visit:

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3 Short Items

The voice of Tony the Tiger is Thurl Ravenscroft, who also sang the “Rotten Mr. Grinch” song in the movie, “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas”. He was also narrator for Disney’s “A Spooky Night in Disney’s Haunted Mansion” album. He performed for many Disney attractions including: voice of Fritz the parrot in “The Enchanted Tiki Room, ” lead singer in “Grim Grinning Ghosts” in the Haunted Mansion, narrator on Monorail. He was the voice for the Disneyland LP based on the “Pirates of the Caribbean” ride. The flip side of this LP contained a number of sea chanties he sang.

Dennis Newton was on trial for the armed robbery of a convenience store in district court when he fired his lawyer. Assistant district attorney Larry Jones said Newton, 47, was doing a fair job of defending himself until the store manager testified that Newton was the robber. Newton jumped up, accused the woman of lying and then said, “I should have blown your head off.” The defendant paused, then quickly added, “If I’d been the one that was there.” The jury took 20 minutes to convict Newton and recommended a 30-year sentence.

Scientists have identified more than 300 viruses capable of bringing fatal diseases to insects. The organisms are believed to be entirely different than those that cause disease in humans, and are thus harmless to man.

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The Real Story Of Thanksgiving


by Susan Bates

Most of us associate the holiday with happy Pilgrims and Indians sitting down to a big feast.  And that did happen – once.

The story began in 1614 when a band of English explorers sailed home to  England with a ship full of Patuxet Indians bound for slavery. They left behind smallpox which virtually wiped out those who had escaped.  By the time the Pilgrims arrived in Massachusetts Bay they found only one living Patuxet Indian, a man named Squanto who had survived slavery in England and knew their language.  He taught them to grow corn and to fish, and negotiated a peace treaty between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Nation. At the end of their first year, the Pilgrims held a great feast honoring Squanto and the Wampanoags.

But as word spread in England about the paradise to be found in the new world, religious zealots called Puritans began arriving by the boat load. Finding no fences around the land, they considered it to be in the public domain. Joined by other British settlers, they seized land, capturing strong young Natives for slaves and killing the rest.  But the Pequot Nation had not agreed to the peace treaty Squanto had negotiated and they fought back. The Pequot War was one of the bloodiest Indian wars ever fought.

In 1637 near present day  Groton, Connecticut, over 700 men, women and children of the Pequot Tribe had gathered for their annual Green Corn Festival which is our Thanksgiving celebration. In the predawn hours the sleeping Indians were surrounded by English and Dutch mercenaries who ordered them to come outside.  Those who came out were shot or clubbed to death while the terrified women and children who huddled inside the longhouse were burned alive. The next day the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony declared “A Day Of Thanksgiving” because 700 unarmed men, women and children had been murdered.

Cheered by their “victory”, the brave colonists and their Indian allies attacked village after village. Women and children over 14 were sold into slavery while the rest were murdered.  Boats loaded with a many as 500 slaves regularly left the ports of New England. Bounties were paid for Indian scalps to encourage as many deaths as possible.

Following an especially successful raid against the Pequot in what is now  Stamford, Connecticut, the churches announced a second day of “thanksgiving” to celebrate victory over the heathen savages.  During the feasting, the hacked off heads of Natives were kicked through the streets like soccer balls.  Even the friendly Wampanoag did not escape the madness. Their chief was beheaded, and his head impaled on a pole in Plymouth, Massachusetts — where it remained on display for 24 years.

The killings became more and more frenzied, with days of thanksgiving feasts being held after each successful massacre. George Washington finally suggested that only one day of Thanksgiving per year be set aside instead of celebrating each and every massacre. Later Abraham Lincoln decreed Thanksgiving Day to be a legal national holiday during the Civil War — on the same day he ordered troops to march against the starving Sioux in Minnesota.

This story doesn’t have quite the same fuzzy feelings associated with it as the one where the Indians and Pilgrims are all sitting down together at the big feast.  But we need to learn our true history so it won’t ever be repeated.  Next  Thanksgiving, when you gather with your loved ones to Thank God for all your blessings, think about those people who only wanted to live their lives and raise their families.  They, also took time out to say “thank you” to Creator for all their blessings.

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As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a
grave-side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends.
The funeral was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and
this man would be the first to be laid to rest there.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost;
and being a typical man did not stop for directions. I finally arrived an
hour late. I saw the backhoe and the crew, who was eating lunch, but the
hearse was nowhere in sight. I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave, where I saw the vault
lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them up for
long, but this was the proper thing to do.

The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch. I poured out my heart and soul. As I preached the workers began to say “Amen,”
“Praise the Lord,” and “Glory”! I preached, and I preached,
like I’d never preached before: from Genesis all the way to Revelations.
I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car.
As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of
the workers saying to another, “I ain’t never seen anything like that before and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”

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How Many Dogs Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb?


Australian Shepherd: Just one. While the rest herd the property for any more light bulbs or even light switches that need to be replaced.

Pit Bull: As long as I’m here, nobody can change ANYTHING. Not as long as I’m around. NO WAY.

Golden Retriever: It doesn’t matter. Even if someone breaks in, I will find the flashlight for them and show off all of my toys and will play fetch nonstop. I still got lots of toys that squeak.

Rottweiler: Won’t you– MAKE ME!!!â�¦..Just try it.

Labrador: Oh me, me!!!!! Huh? Huh? Pleeeeeeeeeze let me change it! Can I? Can I? You sure you only want me to change it? Too bad these bulbs float, or else I would even change the ones from way under the pool.

German Shepherd: Roger that. First of all, I need to see if that is truly a light bulb or a bomb. Second, I should check for any intruders still left in the premises. And third, see if they are still around, so I can sink these nice set of canines in that arm and keep on swinging from it. Not really. Any arm will do.

Maltese: Let the German Shepherd do it. Cocky bastard. You can fix my hair. Yes. Of course piggy tail. What else?

Saint Bernard: Man, I still got the hangover from last night and you’re worry about a stupid lamp. Look. I threw up a few times and can’t even wipe my own slobber. Those bitches once they’re in heat, REALLY know how to party and I got hammered.

Border Collie: Just one. And then I’ll replace any wiring, check for any hazards, and let you know how long that light bulb will actually last.

Weiner Dog: Yeah right. You know that I can’t reach that stupid bulb! Hello? Besides, those big scary dogs just love to floss their teeth with me. And with/without any light they always find me. I guess it’s because I just can’t shut up. Can I?

Siberian Husky: You mean just yank it out of that ceiling and take off with it for miles without even looking back?

Minature Pincher: Why? I can still bite ankles in the dark.

Jack Russell Terrier: Dude, I have cats to chase, rabbits to hunt, and make my owners catch me if you can game. Besides, I will pop it again with my constant bouncing around anyway.

Bassett Hound: Leave that thing off. I am so tired and sleepy and I love it when it’s dark. Too much light hurts my eyes. Why do you think my eyes are so freaking red all the time? Noooooo. I told you a million times that I DO NOT smoke pot. Gosh!!!. I only slept fifteen hours today and you kept on bugging me. ZZZZZZzzzzzz.z.z.z..z..z..z.

Chow Chow: Nope, don’t change that light bulb, don’t brush me, don’t bathe me, don’t medicate me, and don’t ever mistake me with a goofy bear.

Poodle: Oh come on. Give me a break. Who wants to mess up the hair for a stupid light bulb? What if the minute I even try to install it, it burns my fro. I mean come on. The fro is back in style and these curls don’t just happen, you know. Did I tell you I just got my nails done at Poodle Nook Salon today?

Lhaso Apso: Why change it? I can still mark every corner of this house blindfolded.

Doberman: Let them break in. I always wait in that corner and never make a sound. By the time they notice me, my teeth will meet their crotch. Then we’ll talk about who’s really going to get neutered tonight. GRRRRRRRRR.

Beagle: Light bulb? I don’t sniff any light bulbs? What’s the point. I will pop it again with my long barks anyway.

Boxer: Come on dude. Listen to my name.. BOXER? Who needs to change a light bulb when I can just box and knock out the intruder. Once they grab me by the collar, then I’ll show you my psycho dance, that is guaranteed to break those fingers.

Chihuahua: Yo quiero TACO BULB?

Pomeranian: Hey, I was a chow in my past life. So don’t you dare make me do anything.

Bulldog: No way Jose! Last time I tried that crap, I landed flat on my nose.

Bichon Frisee: Let the bulldog or the pug do it. Cute dogs don’t have to work. Besides, all they do is snore and snore alllllllllll night anyway.

Pointer: I see it. There it is. That one right? Yep I see it. There it is. Right there.. hmm.. although it is not moving. I wish they have light bulbs in the jungle. That way I could point out those squirrels even better.

Greyhound: I told you people that I only move off that couch for rabbits! Plain and simple.
Afghan Hound: Light bulb? What? Huh? I’m sorry, what is that? Back in mountains there are no light bulbs. Besides, everybody knows that I don’t need a silly lightbulb to prove how gorgeous I really am.

Written by Kevin Salem – Head Instructor of Sacramento’s Real-Life Dog Training.

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Funny Cartoons




new tool






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The Top 20 Worst Foods in America



20: Worst Fast-Food Chicken Meal – Chicken Selects Premium Breast Strips from McDonald’s (5 pieces) with cream ranch sauce. 830 Calories, 55 grams fat (4.5 trans fat), 48 carbs. Add a large fries and regular soda and this seemingly innocuous chicken meal tops out at 1,710 calories.

19: Worst drink – Jamba Juice Chocolate Moo’d Power Smoothie (30 fl oz). 900 calories, 10 g fat, 183 carbs, 166 g sugar. Jamba Juice calls it a smoothie, MSNBC calls it a milk shake. The beverage contains as much sugar as 8 pints of Ben & Jerry’s butter pecan ice cream.

18: Worst supermarket meal – Pepperidge Farm Roasted Chicken Pot Pie (whole pie). 1,020 calories, 64 g fat, 86 g carbs. Label may say this pie serves two, but, who ever divided a small pot pi! e in half? Once you crack the crust, there will be no stopping.

17: Worst ‘healthy’ burger – Ruby Tuesday Bella Turkey Burger. 1,145 calories, 71 g fat, 56 g carbs.

16: Worst Mexican entree – Chipotle Mexican Grill Chicken Burrito. 1,179 calories, 47 g fat, 125 g carbs, 2,656 mg sodium.

15: Worst kids’ meal – Macaroni Grill Double Macaroni ‘n’ Cheese. 1,210 calories, 62 g fat, 3,450 mg sodium. It’s like feeding your kid 1-1/2 boxes of Kraft mac ‘n’ cheese.

14: Worst sandwich – Quiznos Classic Italian (large). 1,528 calories, 92 g fat, 4,604 mg sodium, 110 g carbs. A large homemade sandwich would more likely provided about 500 calories.

13: Worst salad – On the Border Grande Taco Salad with Taco Beef. 1,450 calories, 102 g fat, 78 g carbs, 2,410 mg sodium. This isn’t an anomaly: Five different On the Border salads on the menu contain more than 1, 100 calories each.

12: Worst burger – Carl’s Jr. (Hardee’s on East Coast) Double Six Dollar Burger. 1,520 calories! , 111g fat. Carl’s Jr. brags it’s home to this enormous sandwich, but the restaurant chain also provides convenient nutrition info on its Web site — so ignorance is no excuse for eating it.

11: Worst steak – Lonestar 20 oz T-bone. 1,540 calories, 124g fat. Add a baked potato and Lonestar’s Signature Lettuce Wedge, and this is a 2,700 calorie blowout.

10: Worst breakfast – Bob Evans Caramel Banana Pecan Cream Stacked and Stuffed hotcakes. 1,540 calories, 77 g fat (9 g trans fat), 198 g carbs, 109 g sugar. Five Egg McMuffins yield the same caloric cost as this stack of sugar-stuffed flapjacks, which is truly a heavy breakfast, weighing in at a hefty pound and a half.

9: Worst dessert – Chili’s Chocolate Chip Paradise Pie with Vanilla Ice Cream. 1,600 calories, 78 g fat, 215 g carbs. Would you eat a Big Mac for dessert? How about three? That’s the calorie equivalent of this decadent dish. Clearly, Chili’s customers get their money’s worth.

8: Worst Chinese entree – P.F. Chang’s Pork Lo Mein. 1,820 calories, 127 g fat,! 95 g carbs. The fat content in this dish alone provides more than 1,100 calories. And you’d have to eat almost five servings of pasta to match the number of carbs it contains. Now, do you really need five servings of pasta?

7: Worst chicken entree – Chili’s Honey Chipotle Crispers with Chipotle Sauce. 2,040 calories, 99 g fat, 240 g carbs. ‘Crispers’ refers to an extra thick layer of break crumbs that soak up oil and adds unnecessary calories and carbs to these glorified chicken strips.

6: Worst fish entree – On the Border Dos XX Fish Tacos with Rice and Beans. 2,100 calories, 130 g fat, 169 g carbs, 4,700 mg sodium. Perhaps the most misleadingly named dish in America : A dozen crunchy tacos from Taco Bell will saddle you with fewer calories.

5: Worst pizza – Uno Chicago Grill Chicago Classic Deep Dish Pizza. 2,310 calories, 162 g fat, 123 g carbs, 4,470 mg sodium. Downing this ‘personal’ pizza is equivalent to eating 18 slices of Domino’s Crunchy Thin Crust cheese pizza.

4: Worst pasta – Macaroni Grill Spaghetti and Meatballs with Meat Sauce. 2,430 calories, 128 g fat, 207 g carbs, 5,290 mg sodium. This meal satisfied your calorie requirements for an entire day.

3: Worst nachos – On the Border Stacked Border Nachos. 2,740 calories, 166 g fat, 191 g carbs, 5,280 sodium.

2: Worst starter – Chili’s Awesome Blossom. 2,710 calories, 203 g fat, 194 g carbs, 6,360 mg sodium.

1: The worst food in America – Outback Steakhouse Aussie Cheese Fries with Ranch Dressing. 2,900 calories, 182g fat, 240g carbs. Even if you split these ’starters’ with three friends, you’ll have downed a dinner’s worth of calories before you entree arrives.

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Elephant & Watermelon


In a day, an elephant can drink 80 gallons of water.

The term “the whole 9 yards” came from WWII fighter pilots in thePacific. When arming their airplanes on the ground, the .50 calibermachine gunammo belts measured exactly 27 feet, before being loaded into thefuselage. If the pilots fired all their ammo at a target, it got “the whole 9 yards.”

In 1948 and 1950 the oldest ears of popping corn were discovered. They were located in the Bat Cave of west central New Mexico. They ranged in size from smaller than a penny to approximately two inches, and were about 4,000 years old.

The only real person to be a Pez head was Betsy Ross.

It cost the soft drink industry $100 million a year for thefts committed involving vending machines.

The only two days of the year in which there are no professional sports games (MLB, NBA, NHL, or NFL) are the day before and the day after the Major League All-Star Game.

Watermelon is considered a good gift to give a host in Japan and China.

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Pay Raise


A maid asked for a pay increase.

The wife was very upset about this and asked: “Now Maria, why do you want a pay increase?”

Maria: “Well Señora, there are three reasons why I want an increase. The first is that I iron better than you.”

Wife: “Who said you iron better than me?”

Maria: “Your husband said so.”

Wife: “Oh.”

Maria: “The second reason is that I am a better cook than you.”

Wife: “Nonsense, who said you were a better cook than me?”

Maria: “Your husband did.”

Wife: “Oh.”

Maria: “My third reason is that I am a better lover than you.”

Wife (really furious now): “Did my husband say that as well?”

Maria: “No Señora, the gardener did.”


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