My parents told me about Common Sense early in my life and told me I
<tt>would do well to call on her when making decisions. It seems she was </tt>
<tt>always around in my early years but less and less as time passed by. </tt>
<tt>Today I read her obituary. Please join me in a moment of silence in </tt>
<tt>remembrance, for Common Sense had served us all so well for so many </tt>
<tt>Obituary: Common Sense </tt>
<tt><tt>Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who </tt>
<tt>has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old she was </tt>
<tt>since her birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. </tt>
<tt>She will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as </tt>
<tt>knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the </tt>
<tt>worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault. </tt>
<tt>Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend </tt>
<tt>more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not </tt>
<tt>children are in charge). </tt>
<tt>Her health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but </tt>
<tt>overbearing regulations were set in place. </tt>
<tt>Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for </tt>
<tt>kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash </tt>
<tt>after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, </tt>
<tt>only worsened her condition. </tt>
<tt>Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the </tt>
<tt>job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly </tt>
<tt>It declined even further when schools were required to get parental </tt>
<tt>consent to administer aspirin, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a </tt>
<tt>student, but could not inform the parents when a student became </tt>
<tt>pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. </tt>
<tt>Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became </tt>
<tt>contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better </tt>
<tt>treatment than their victims. </tt>
<tt>Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a </tt>
<tt>burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. </tt>
<tt>Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to </tt>
<tt>realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little </tt>
<tt>in her lap, and was awarded a huge settlement. </tt>
<tt>Common Sense was preceded in death by her parents, Truth and Trust; </tt>
<tt>her husband, Discretion; her daughter, Responsibility; and her son, </tt>
<tt>She is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know my Rights, Someone Else </tt>
<tt>is to Blame, and I'm a Victim. </tt>
<tt>Not many attended her funeral because so few realized she was gone.</tt></tt>
When I have had a man around the house I must admit I have put on his button down shirt when he was not home. It smelled wonderful and made me think devilishly about previous events. Later when he came home I modeled it for him. Ofcourse I never buttoned it all the way up, letting the top edge of a lacy bra peek out here and there. They have all loved it and I have to admit I found it sexy and a turn on. Just writing this now ... mmmm...... or is it a purrrr? I have to admit to even wearing my man's boxers, though they were a little loose, and those were sexy too. So as I thought about it and how sexy I found it to be, it occurred to me that men may get the same guilty pleasure if the shoe were on the other foot, so to speak.
You remember. You're alone. No one is coming home for hours. There it is at the foot of the bed. It is calling to you. Remember last night. Yeah, you remember. A quick touch. Soft. Almost still warm. Shiny and smooth. Glance around. You are alone, I assure you. Go ahead, touch it again. It is only a bra. Silky and lacy. You pick it up. You fondly fondle it. How silly I must look? No, no you don't. Go ahead. You hold it up.
Now for the question. Have you ever put it on? Maybe not hooked it, after all 34 inches is way too small to go around your chest. But have you put your arms through the straps? How did you feel? Sexy or silly. It was only you alone with her bra...it won't tell.
Now that was alone time....have you ever modeled your ladies garmets for her? This is what I want to know. How does a man look in a teddy or bustier.... I am not talking about trannies or other perversions....just married or committed couples getting crazy in the privacy of their own bedrooms. I have been to Brazil and seen a thong on a man at the beach - not attractive at all.
Please make yourselves comfortable on the couch....
For those that don't know the story I will refresh. Please gather round and get comfortable. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
The wonderful menfolk of the CBS sports thread family have for as long as I have been apart of it tried to outdo each other with a sexy woman posing in an avatar. Some are classy beauty and sexuality, others are tawdry, sweat generators. These were the best of times.
Along comes Dookisevil and Yankeechic asking for equal billing to show some manflesh. Tsk tsk. Sorry ladies this is an ethical breech. The ladies openly revolt. Up goes Brady Anderson, Johnny Damon, and other male models. The ladies get called out. The worst of times. I took down my avatars to show solidarity with my ladies and replaced it with an ugly fish. Suddenly, no one wants to chat with Amerigo anymore. When I do get to chat I get requests to put up the old av. Or, my favorite, was for a bikini shot of me in a size too small suit. Nice image. I am going to let that sink in a moment.....................you still with me? So I thought, "OK, let's give 'em what they want." I happen to have modeled a swim suit a few years ago so I had the goods to show. But nothing in this world is free. No free lunches. Quid pro quo. My pic has been up for 1 day. No one has been man enough to show the goods despite being called out by name.
I have a simple request. I've shown mine, you show me yours. The avatar must be of yourself. Taken showing you wearing a tight garment (blue speedo, thong, titey whitey). Boxers will not be accepted. The pic must have your head cropped out. The pic must be taken in front of your computer screen with the CBS home page clearly visible in the shot.
The ladies on the thread will be the judges for the following awards:
Best nanner hammock
Best tool shed
Best 6 pack
Best shag carpet
Best pectoral display
Best in show
The avatar must be visible on this thread Friday nite, Leap Day, at 8 pm EST and remain up for 1 hour. You guys don't have any problem with your pic staying up that long do you? Good. Cash prizes will be awarded. And remember....we are playing for almost twenty dollars here so try to remain good sports.
The US Senate reserves the right to subject the winners to a hearing to make sure no performance enhancing drugs were used in the competition.
Now the question - Is it the best or worst of times? Ladies?
Failure to have any participants will bring back the ugly fish avatar for eternity.
Tonight was a true study of a man out of his element, sports fans. As an amatuer people watcher, tonight was special. Now I went to this particular establishment to purchase a couple of new undergarments for myself as mine were beginning to show some wear and tear but that is another story (only told in the dirty little fantasies of my minions out there.) Back to the story...what a funny situation to behold, men, men, everywhere, and only pretty women to help them out.
"Good evening sir, may I help you?" "Ahhh...yeah...I....ah....welll ." "Is it a Valentine's gift?" she asked like a seer of his thoughts. He manages to nod. Clearly he is uncomfortable (understatement!!). Being the pro the young saleslady is, she asks the next questions. "Wife/girlfriend? What do you have in mind (dangerous question to men in a lingerie store - mind you) ? Do you know her size? Is she big like me? Small like her? What about through here?" And on she goes and the poor guy can only grunt and nod or shake his head (above the shoulders, stay with me here boys). He is really trying to not look at the women, the frilly lacey things, and certainly not out into the mall. "God, I hope no one I know sees me in here!" "Is there a particular color you are looking for? Black? White? Red?" Again he nods. "How about the matching thongs?" Cha-ching. With his heart pumping at a high rate his brain (above the shoulders) is swamped with too many decisions. Information overload. He takes them all. She asks if he would like it wrapped. Not sure what she meant. She shows him the wrapping paper. He stammers a yes. It cost him almost $150 for this little forray into no MANs land.
On his way by me I could not resist piling on. Holding up a sexy little red teddy I asked, "Do you think I would look hot in this?"
He grunted something and hightailed it out the door. The sales lady who had served him burst out in laughter saying she had always wanted to do that.
Be brave boys and keep you head up high (above the shoulders, again). You can do this. Besides the lingerie is for you, silly!
What did I get? I put the teddy back and got the flannel nightgowns I had come for....welcome to the upper midwest boys. Nothing sexier than flannel.
While walking down the street one day a US senator is tragically hit by a truck and dies.
His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
'Welcome to heaven,' says St. Peter. 'Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you.'
'No problem, just let me in,' says the man.
'Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.'
'Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,' says the senator.
'I'm sorry, but we have our rules.'
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.
They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realize s it, it is time to go.
Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises...
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St Peter is waiting for him.
'Now it's time to visit heaven.'
So, 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
'Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.'
The senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: 'Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.'
So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.
Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.
He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. 'I don't understand,' stammers the senator. 'Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?'
The devil looks at him, smiles and says, 'Yesterday we were campaigning...... Today you voted.Remember what tomorrow brings, suckers!!
I was reminded of a golf story today. More amazing than Bagger Vance, less thrilling than The Greatest Game Ever Played, this story is of the humor variety. What makes it so funny is that it is true. The names will be changed to protect the guilty so don't worry if this sounds familiar.
A first round of spring is the setting on a Saturday morning in early April. That evil witch Mother Nature had given all of us a pass. A tee time was made and three good freinds headed for the course. One of the three had brought with them an old friend to round out the foursome. Now this fellow had really enjoyed himself on the preceding evening and could only be classified as overserved. Being early spring, rain was always a possibility and the group was prepared for inclement weather should it arise. The previously mentioned overserved fellow wore a yellow rain slicker while the rest of the group wore more traditional foul weather gear.
As the round went on , none of us was playing particularly well, but this fourth fellow was beginning to lose conciousness in his own personal fog. So we played on as a threesome plus one body (he could fog a mirror and this is the first round of the year after a long winter so we played on). By the 18th hole he was coming around and even beginning to play golf again though it was difficult to classify it as golf. The last putt was holed and we headed for the parking lot to put away the implements of destruction.
At his point it is important to point out the golf course had undergone some renovations over the winter and had built a new flower planter box in the turn around in front of the clubhouse. It was very nice, maybe 25 feet in diameter and made of stone. Fresh plantings were all the rage including new thornbushes and tulips. Now the driver of the cart containing the overserved fellow did not notice this new renovation even though he drove directly toward it. He was speaking animatedly to the overserved fellow. Keep in mind my vantage point is directly behind them. Finally, at the last second, the driver notices the impending collisions and takes emergency evasive action turning sharply to the left. At this point I must remind you of some laws of physics, Objects in motion tend to remain in motion unless acted on by an outside influence (See Newton, Isaac). The overserved fellow was unaware of the evasive manuevers and proceded in a straight line but managed to hold on to the cart handle next to the seat. Because he was still "attached" to the cart, he was dragged through the planter box and it's new thornbushes and tulips. Even his yellow rain slicker had gotten under the rear tire. At this point the driver notices there are no passengers with him in the cart and he abruptly stops the cart. The overserved guy, suddenly very awake, jumps up in a fit of rage and lunges for the driver only to hit his head on the top of the cart opening his forehead up for future stitches. Down he went. Needless to say, it was the funniest thing I had ever seen and to this day only wish I had recorded it for posterity and $10K on Americas Funniest Home videos. I wonder if his head still hurts to this day?