The lord giveth and the lord taketh away.

Doesn't this make him an indian giver?

That's "Native American giver" you insensitive bastard.

My native-american giver was waterboarded on 9/11 so I get a free pass. Carry on.

CEASUTBCAMD

(comment elicited a slight, under-the-breath chuckle at my desk)

<grumbles>
Kids these days. In my day we had to pay for a pass. And we liked it.
</grumbles>

AND we had to walk barefoot through the snow uphill both ways to get it.

Damn straight.

Lawn. Off. Now.

A WOMAN'S POEM:
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won't be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand.
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other.
And relish visits with my mother.


A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
big tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.

That was great. :)

Classic, you forgot independently wealthy, bi-sexual, gourmet chef, who loves threesomes and is turned on by jobless men with beer guts who play video games all day. :)

What's really funny about it:

Even with those crazy crazy grandiose things you men are asking for, you STILL have a better chance of finding one of those women than any woman has of finding that guy in the woman's poem. :lol2:

Oh, I'm sorry, now who is the joke on? :rolleyes:

Personally, I already found the woman of my dreams and she is nothing short of amazing! No joke. <pbbbbllllltttttt>

Yeah, so?

What's that got to do with the price of eggs in the Cellar? ;)

Wait.... what? The price went up again? Fuck, I was gonna stock up on eggs too.