<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:26:30.821-06:00</updated><category term='talking dog'/><category term='cybersex'/><category term='Laughing Baby'/><category term='BAR'/><category term='poem'/><category term='laughter quotes'/><category term='Happy Easter'/><category term='positive thoughts'/><category term='bigger dick'/><category term='frog joke'/><category term='my boys'/><category term='Stress'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='Searching for Happiness'/><category term='things to do before I die'/><category term='drunk joke'/><category term='horse laughing'/><category term='sex'/><category term='reduce stress'/><category term='Things kids say'/><category term='egg nog'/><category term='The Rose Within'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='tears'/><category term='rainbows'/><category term='butterfly art'/><category term='Random Jokes'/><category term='pirate joke'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='baby pictures'/><category term='Have you ever wondered?'/><category term='Why we live to be 80'/><category term='Cheese Cake'/><category term='Six Inches'/><category term='tornado'/><category term='Did You Know'/><category term='Teddy Bears'/><category term='sex therapy'/><category term='Bush'/><category term='lollipop quotes'/><category term='rainbow quotes'/><category term='Little Mary'/><category term='Simpsons'/><category term='police joke'/><category term='lollipop'/><category term='adult joke'/><category term='old people'/><category term='Female Diana Butterfly'/><category term='oklahoma'/><category term='why parents drink'/><category term='child safety'/><category term='wet pussy'/><category term='Easter Joke'/><category term='inspirational Stories'/><category term='NASA'/><category term='full moon'/><title type='text'>Rainbows &amp; Lollipops</title><subtitle type='html'>Something positive for the day, but be careful waking through my backyard, you might get some shit between your toes.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>77</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4221292055320820477</id><published>2010-12-31T20:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T20:57:51.263-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rules for being human</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="heading4"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;1. You will receive a body. You may like it, or hate it, but it will be yours for the entire period this time around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full time informal  school called life. Each day in this school you have the opportunity to  learn lessons. You may like the lessons or think they are irrelevant and  stupid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial and  error and experimentation. The ”failed” experiments are as much a part  of the process as the experiment that ultimately ”works”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. A lesson is repeated until learned… A lesson will be presented to you  in various forms until you have learned it. When you have learned it,  you can go to the next lesson. Periodically, the lesson will be re-  presented to see if you still remember it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Learning lessons does not end. There is no part of life that does not  contain its lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons to be learnt.  If no lessons is being presented, it is likely that you are no longer  alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. ”There” is no better than ”here”. When your ”there” has become a  ”here”, you will simply acquire another ”there”. That will again look  better than ”here”. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Others are simply mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something  about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about  yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and  resources you need. What you make of them is up to you; the choice is  yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Your answers lie inside you. The answers to life’s questions lie inside you. All you have to do is look, listen and trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. You will forget all this. That fact is itself a lesson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4221292055320820477?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4221292055320820477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4221292055320820477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4221292055320820477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4221292055320820477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/12/rules-for-being-human.html' title='Rules for being human'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7633410838195550381</id><published>2010-06-19T22:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T20:58:23.301-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress Management Technique</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: times new roman,new york,times,serif; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;This                          actually does work........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;Just in case you are having a                          rough day (week, year, and life), here is a &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1277002706_0"&gt;stress                          management technique&lt;/span&gt; recommended in all the latest                          psychological journals. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;The funny thing is that it                          really does work and will make you                          smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 7.5pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;1. Picture yourself lying on                          your stomach on a warm rock that hangs out over a                          &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1277002706_1"&gt;crystal clear stream&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;2. Picture yourself with                          both your hands dangling in the cool running water.                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;3. Birds are sweetly                          singing in the &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1277002706_2"&gt;cool mountain air&lt;/span&gt;.                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;4. No one knows your                          secret place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;5. You are in total                          seclusion from that hectic place called the world.                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;6. The &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1277002706_3" style="-moz-background-inline-policy: continuous; background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; cursor: pointer;"&gt;soothing sound&lt;/span&gt; of                          a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of                          serenity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;7. The water is so crystal                          clear that you can easily make out the face of                          the&amp;nbsp;asshole you are holding underwater.                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"&gt;There!! See? It really does                          work. You're smiling already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 7.5pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 7.5pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;                          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7633410838195550381?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7633410838195550381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7633410838195550381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7633410838195550381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7633410838195550381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/06/stress-management-technique.html' title='Stress Management Technique'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4707567374200867185</id><published>2010-05-29T00:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T00:40:02.077-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Orange Marmalade Cream Cake</title><content type='html'>1 pkg (18.25 oz each) white cake mix&lt;br /&gt;4 ounces cream cheese&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons butter, softened&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon vanilla extract&lt;br /&gt;2 teaspoons freshly grated orange peel (1 med orange = about 2 tsp)&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons fresh orange juice&lt;br /&gt;2 cups confectioners' sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup orange marmalade&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Directions &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven according to cake mix directions. Spray two 9-inch round cake pans with baking spray. Prepare and bake cake according to package directions.&lt;br /&gt;Cool cakes in pans for 10 minutes, then transfer to wire racks. Cool completely, about 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Combine cream cheese and butter in large mixing bowl; cream together until very smooth. Add vanilla, orange peel, orange juice and sugar; blend until smooth.&lt;br /&gt;Place one cake layer onto cake plate. Spread with thin layer of cream cheese mixture. Top with orange marmalade, spreading evenly to the edge of the cake. Place second cake layer over first; frost cake with remaining cream cheese mixture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4707567374200867185?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4707567374200867185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4707567374200867185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4707567374200867185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4707567374200867185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/05/orange-marmalade-cream-cake.html' title='Orange Marmalade Cream Cake'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7653520400822647138</id><published>2010-04-27T21:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T21:29:33.984-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Macaroon Cookies</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;Ingredients&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul class="recIngredientsList" id="recIngredients"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;1.5 cup flaked sweetened coconut&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="1.5" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="cup" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="flaked sweetened coconut" /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 cup sugar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="1/2" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="cup" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="sugar" /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/4 cup white all-purpose flour&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="1/4" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="cup" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="white all-purpose flour" /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/4 tsp salt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="1/4" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="tsp" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="salt" /&gt;&lt;li&gt;3  egg whites, at room temperature&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="3" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="egg whites, at room temperature" /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 tsp vanilla extract&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="1/2" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="tsp" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="vanilla extract" /&gt;&lt;li&gt;1/2 tsp almond extract&lt;/li&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListQty[]" type="hidden" value="1/2" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListUnit[]" type="hidden" value="tsp" /&gt;&lt;input name="rcpShoppingListName[]" type="hidden" value="almond extract" /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;         &lt;!--          var aIngredients = new Array();          var iBaseServe = 42;                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"1.5", UNIT:"cup", INAME:"flaked sweetened coconut"};                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"1/2", UNIT:"cup", INAME:"sugar"};                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"1/4", UNIT:"cup", INAME:"white all-purpose flour"};                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"1/4", UNIT:"tsp", INAME:"salt"};                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"3", UNIT:"", INAME:"egg whites, at room temperature"};                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"1/2", UNIT:"tsp", INAME:"vanilla extract"};                        aIngredients[aIngredients.length] = {QTY:"1/2", UNIT:"tsp", INAME:"almond extract"};                        // --&gt;        &lt;/script&gt;                  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="recipe-directions"&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Directions &lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div id="rdir-body"&gt;1 Preheat oven to 325°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper or aluminum foil.&lt;br /&gt;2 In medium bowl, use a rubber spatula or wooden spoon to combine coconut, sugar, flour and salt.&lt;br /&gt;3 Stir in egg whites and extracts until well blended. Drop by rounded teaspoonful on prepared baking sheets.&lt;br /&gt;4 Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until golden brown. Move cookies with parchment paper or foil and place on rack to cool.&lt;br /&gt;5 When cool, remove from paper or foil and store in sealed container.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can also drizzle chocolate over them after cooled.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7653520400822647138?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7653520400822647138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7653520400822647138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7653520400822647138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7653520400822647138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/04/macaroon-cookies.html' title='Macaroon Cookies'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5109571827657693960</id><published>2010-04-04T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T11:55:36.941-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happy Easter'/><title type='text'>All I Need To Know I Learned From The Easter Bunny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;All I need to know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I learned from the Easter Bunny!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Don't put all your eggs in one basket. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Everyone needs a friend who is all ears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;There's no such thing as too much candy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;All work and no play can make you a basket case. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;A cute tail attracts a lot of attention. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Everyone is entitled to a bad hare day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let happy thoughts multiply like rabbits. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Some body parts should be floppy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac200/lova_03/351acb05f54bcbdc18bae8f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://i899.photobucket.com/albums/ac200/lova_03/351acb05f54bcbdc18bae8f.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Keep your paws off of other people's jelly beans. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Good things come in small, sugar coated packages. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The grass is always greener in someone else's basket. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;To show your true colors, you have to come out of the shell. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The best things in life are still sweet and gooey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;May the joy of the season fill your heart. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Happy Easter! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5109571827657693960?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5109571827657693960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5109571827657693960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5109571827657693960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5109571827657693960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/04/all-i-need-to-know-i-learned-from.html' title='All I Need To Know I Learned From The Easter Bunny'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-668192776077070708</id><published>2010-03-20T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T22:49:51.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational Stories'/><title type='text'>Just Be There</title><content type='html'>A nurse took a tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside of a dying man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your son is here,"&amp;nbsp; the nurse said to the old man.&lt;br /&gt;She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed.All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lightedward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength.  Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He refused. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who was that man?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed. I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey. His Son was Killed in  Iraq today, and I was sent to&lt;br /&gt;inform him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was this gentleman's name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Nurse with Tears in Her Eyes Answered,&lt;br /&gt;Mr. William Grey.............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time someone needs you ... just be there..  Stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE ARE NOT HUMAN BEINGS GOING THROUGH A TEMPORARY SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WE ARE SPIRITUAL BEINGS GOING THROUGH A TEMPORARY HUMAN EXPERIENCE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-668192776077070708?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/668192776077070708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=668192776077070708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/668192776077070708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/668192776077070708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/03/just-be-there.html' title='Just Be There'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6429302396573520801</id><published>2010-02-13T22:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T22:16:34.745-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Death During Sex</title><content type='html'>Right in the middle of lovemaking, the husband dies of a heart attack. As the funeral arrangements are being made, the mortician informs the widow that he cannot get rid of her dead husband's rigor mortis hard-on which is sticking straight up in the air and if they don't do something, it will look odd in the coffin at the funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The widow tells the guy to cut it off and stick it up her dear departed's behind. The mortician can't believe his ears but the widow is adamant, so he does it. During the funeral, friends and relatives of the dead man were concerned to see a tear in the corner of his eye, but the widow assured them that there was no cause to be alarmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before the casket is closed, the widow leans in and whispers in the dead man's ear, "It HURTS, doesn't it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6429302396573520801?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6429302396573520801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6429302396573520801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6429302396573520801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6429302396573520801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/02/death-during-sex.html' title='Death During Sex'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7534259193654125754</id><published>2010-02-11T22:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T22:44:26.275-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Nuns in a Park</title><content type='html'>Two nuns, Sister Mary and Sister Elizabeth are walking through the park when they are jumped by two thugs. Their habits are ripped from them and the men begin to sexually assault them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Elizabeth casts her eyes heavenward and cries, "Forgive him Lord, for he knows not what he is doing!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Mary turns and moans, "Oh God, mine does!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7534259193654125754?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7534259193654125754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7534259193654125754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7534259193654125754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7534259193654125754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-nuns-in-park.html' title='Two Nuns in a Park'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6271790830875345376</id><published>2010-01-30T17:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T17:52:39.138-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cheese Cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Easy Cheese Cake</title><content type='html'>2 cans (8 oz. each) refrigerated crescent dinner rolls, divided&lt;br /&gt;2 pkg.  (8 oz. each) PHILADELPHIA Cream Cheese, softened&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. vanilla&lt;br /&gt;1   egg, slightly beaten&lt;br /&gt;3/4 cup sugar, divided&lt;br /&gt;2 Tbsp.  ground cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PREHEAT oven to 350°F. Unroll 1 of the cans of crescent dough. Press onto bottom of greased 13x9-inch baking pan to form crust, firmly pressing seams together to seal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEAT cream cheese, vanilla, egg and 1/2 cup of the sugar with electric mixer on medium speed until well blended. Spread onto crust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UNROLL remaining can of crescent dough onto large sheet of wax paper. Pat out dough to form 13x9-inch rectangle, pressing seams together to seal. Invert over cream cheese mixture to form top crust; discard wax paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAKE 30 to 35 min. or until golden brown. Combine remaining 1/4 cup sugar and cinnamon in small bowl; sprinkle over squares before cutting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Substitute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prepare as directed, using reduced fat refrigerated crescent dinner rolls and PHILADELPHIA Neufchatel, 1/3 Less Fat than Cream Cheese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6271790830875345376?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6271790830875345376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6271790830875345376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6271790830875345376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6271790830875345376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2010/01/easy-cheese-cake.html' title='Easy Cheese Cake'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1472752763878060038</id><published>2009-12-11T22:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T22:03:40.896-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='egg nog'/><title type='text'>Christmas Egg Nog</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;td&gt;A Holiday Classic!  Makes about 38 1/2 cup servings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#cc0000"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: Comic Sans MS,Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;12 eggs separated &lt;br /&gt;1 cup sugar &lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cups bourbon &lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup brandy &lt;br /&gt;6 cups milk &lt;br /&gt;ground nutmeg &lt;br /&gt;1 cup heavy whipping cream&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#cc0000"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: Comic Sans MS,Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Instructions&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;1. In large bowl with mixer at low speed, beat egg yolks with sugar. At high speed, beat until thick and lemon colored, about 15 minutes, frequently scraping bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Beat in bourbon and brandy, one tablespoon at a time to prevent curdling. Cover and chill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. About 20 minutes before serving, in chilled 5-6 qt. punch bowl, stir yolk mixture, milk and 1 1/4 teaspoons nutmeg. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. In large bowl with mixer at high speed, beat egg whites until soft peaks form. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. In small bowl, using same beaters, beat cream until stiff peaks form. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. With wire whisk, gently fold egg whites and cream into yolk mixture until just blended and serve.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1472752763878060038?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1472752763878060038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1472752763878060038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1472752763878060038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1472752763878060038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-egg-nog.html' title='Christmas Egg Nog'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-9168007986697339230</id><published>2009-12-10T22:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T22:05:47.022-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Peanut Brittle</title><content type='html'>&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="4"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Comic Sans MS,Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Packed with peanuts, this classic candy is both crunchy and melt-in-your-mouth delicious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes 45 pieces.&lt;br /&gt;Total time: 1 hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#cc0000"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: Comic Sans MS,Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;2 3/4 cups granulated sugar &lt;br /&gt;1/2 stick unsalted butter &lt;br /&gt;2/3 cup water &lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cups lightly salted peanuts&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor="#cc0000"&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;span style="color: white; font-family: Comic Sans MS,Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Instructions&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Step 1:&lt;br /&gt;Grease and line a 9 x 13-inch pan with foil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 2:&lt;br /&gt;In a large, heavy saucepan over moderate heat, cook the sugar, butter, and water, stirring occasionally, until the mixture becomes a golden-brown syrup, about 25 minutes. Remove to a cool surface. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 3:&lt;br /&gt;Stir in the peanuts and pour mixture into the pan, spreading the nuts evenly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 4:&lt;br /&gt;Let peanut brittle set and cool before breaking into bite-size pieces. It can be stored in an airtight container in a cool, dry place for up to 1 month.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-9168007986697339230?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/9168007986697339230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=9168007986697339230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/9168007986697339230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/9168007986697339230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/12/peanut-brittle.html' title='Peanut Brittle'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-527136525145083531</id><published>2009-12-09T22:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T22:27:46.829-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Divinity</title><content type='html'>Makes 40 pieces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingredients&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    * 2 1/2 cups sugar&lt;br /&gt;    * 1/2 cup light corn syrup&lt;br /&gt;    * 1/2 cup water&lt;br /&gt;    * 1/4 teaspoon salt&lt;br /&gt;    * 2 egg whites&lt;br /&gt;    * 1 teaspoon vanilla&lt;br /&gt;    * 1/2 cup chopped pecans (optional) or cherries (optional)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   1.In a 2 quart saucepan combine sugar, corn syrup, water, and salt.&lt;br /&gt;   2.Cook to hardball stage, (260 degrees), stirring only until sugar dissolves.&lt;br /&gt;   3.Meanwhile, as temperature of syrup reaches 250 degrees, beat egg white till stiff peaks form.&lt;br /&gt;   4.When syrup reaches 260 degrees, very gradually add the syrup to egg whites, beating at high speed with electric mixer.&lt;br /&gt;   5.Add vanilla and beat until candy holds its shape, 4-5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;   6.Stir in the chopped nuts or cherries, if desired.&lt;br /&gt;   7.Quickly drop candy from a teaspoon onto waxed paper, swirling the top of each piece.&lt;br /&gt;   8.Let cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-527136525145083531?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/527136525145083531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=527136525145083531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/527136525145083531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/527136525145083531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/12/divinity.html' title='Divinity'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1640826463328297777</id><published>2009-10-28T02:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T02:01:38.456-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><title type='text'>What to Wear on Halloween?</title><content type='html'>A bald man with a wooden leg gets invited to a Halloween Party. He doesn't know what costume to wear to hide his head and his Leg, So he writes to a costume company to explain his problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later he received a parcel with the following note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please find enclosed a pirate's outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and, with your wooden leg, you will be just right as a pirate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very truly yours,&lt;br /&gt;Acme Costume Co.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man thinks this is terrible because they have emphasized his Wooden Leg and so he writes a letter of complaint. A week goes by and he Receives another parcel and a note, which says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir,&lt;br /&gt;Please find enclosed a monk's costume.. The long robe will cover your Wooden leg and, with your bald head, you should really look the part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very truly yours,&lt;br /&gt;Acme Costume Co. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the man is really upset since they have gone from emphasizing his Wooden leg to emphasizing his bald head, so again he writes the Company another nasty letter of complaint.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day he gets a small Parcel and a note, which reads: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sir,&lt;br /&gt;We have TRIED our very BEST Please find enclosed a bottle of molasses and a bag of crushed nuts. Pour the molasses over your bald head, pat on crushed nuts, stick your Wooden Leg up your ass and go as a caramel apple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very truly yours,&lt;br /&gt;Acme Costume Co.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1640826463328297777?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1640826463328297777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1640826463328297777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1640826463328297777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1640826463328297777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-to-wear-on-halloween.html' title='What to Wear on Halloween?'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-3378380946129801454</id><published>2009-10-21T02:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T02:08:00.059-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talking dog'/><title type='text'>Talking Dog For Sale!</title><content type='html'>A guy is driving around the back woods of Montana and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: 'Talking Dog For Sale ' He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You talk?' he asks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yep,' the Lab replies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says 'So, what's your story?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lab looks up and says, 'Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running. But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.' 'I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ten dollars,' the guy says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Because he's a liar. He never did any of that shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-3378380946129801454?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/3378380946129801454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=3378380946129801454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3378380946129801454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3378380946129801454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/10/talking-dog-for-sale.html' title='Talking Dog For Sale!'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-9138112833292044108</id><published>2009-10-08T01:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T01:56:37.547-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teddy Bears'/><title type='text'>Teddy Bears</title><content type='html'>A man meets a gorgeous woman in a bar. They talk, they connect, they end up leaving together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They get back to her place, and as she shows him around her apartment, he notices that her bedroom is completely packed with teddy bears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hundreds of small bears on a shelf all the way along the floor, medium sized ones on a shelf a little higher and huge bears on the top shelf along the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man is kind of surprised that this woman would have a collection of teddy bears, especially one that's so extensive, but he decides not to mention this to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a night of passion, as they are lying together in the afterglow, the man rolls over and asks, smiling, "Well, how was it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She replied, "You may select any prize from the bottom self."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-9138112833292044108?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/9138112833292044108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=9138112833292044108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/9138112833292044108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/9138112833292044108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/10/teddy-bears.html' title='Teddy Bears'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5607635303509592060</id><published>2009-10-07T01:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T01:57:56.797-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Eats Underwear to Beat Breathalyzer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Ss2NT_4dNwI/AAAAAAAACP4/BdwgoOCi05U/s1600-h/eat_underwear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390119703737612034" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Ss2NT_4dNwI/AAAAAAAACP4/BdwgoOCi05U/s320/eat_underwear.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5607635303509592060?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5607635303509592060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5607635303509592060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5607635303509592060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5607635303509592060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/10/man-eats-underwear-to-beat-breathalyzer.html' title='Man Eats Underwear to Beat Breathalyzer'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Ss2NT_4dNwI/AAAAAAAACP4/BdwgoOCi05U/s72-c/eat_underwear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6593668270528277635</id><published>2009-08-24T21:52:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T22:22:46.959-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Female Diana Butterfly'/><title type='text'>Pictures of Female Diana Butterfly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SpNY6KoO41I/AAAAAAAACIQ/I9nnIaZIxfY/s1600-h/Butterfly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373736536691893074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SpNY6KoO41I/AAAAAAAACIQ/I9nnIaZIxfY/s320/Butterfly.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While out walking Sunday afternoon, I had the rare privilege of observing and photographing a female Diana Butterfly. Apparently they are rarely seen in August, and are considered a sensitive species. It landed lightly on some tall purple thistle, that was growing abundantly along the edge of the tree line, going out towards an open field. I was able to watch this fascinating butterfly up close for almost 5 minutes before it fluttered above my head briefly, as if watching me, and then disappeared across an open field. It was one of the largest butterflies I’ve ever seen in Oklahoma. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373736040257033154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SpNYdRQ8E8I/AAAAAAAACIA/unLKiIgg19Q/s320/DSCF2360.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6593668270528277635?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6593668270528277635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6593668270528277635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6593668270528277635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6593668270528277635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/08/pictures-of-female-diana-butterfly.html' title='Pictures of Female Diana Butterfly'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SpNY6KoO41I/AAAAAAAACIQ/I9nnIaZIxfY/s72-c/Butterfly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7569675779586231616</id><published>2009-08-18T01:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T01:12:16.901-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning Sex</title><content type='html'>I will never hear church bells ringing again without smiling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie Went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95-year-old Grandmother and comfort her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, 'He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Oh no, my dear,' replied granny. 'Many years ago, realizing our Advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring.&lt;br /&gt;It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply, in on the Ding and out on the Dong.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She paused to wipe away a tear, and continued, 'He'd still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn't come along!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7569675779586231616?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7569675779586231616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7569675779586231616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7569675779586231616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7569675779586231616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/08/sunday-morning-sex.html' title='Sunday Morning Sex'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6169650490006849474</id><published>2009-07-16T15:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T15:27:14.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Cat Goes to Heaven</title><content type='html'>A cat dies and goes to Heaven. God meets him at the gate and says, "you have been a good cat all of these years. Anything you desire is yours, all you have to do is ask." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cats says, "Well, I lived all my life with a poor family on a farm and had to sleep on hardwood floors."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God says, "Say no more." And instantly, a fluffy pillow appears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, 6 mice are killed in a tragic accident and they go to Heaven. God meets them at the gate with the same offer that He made the cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mice said, "All our lives we've had to run. Cats, dogs and even women with brooms have chased us. If we could only have a pair of roller skates, we wouldn't have to run anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God says, "Say no more." And instantly, each mouse is fitted with a beautiful pair of tiny roller skates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week later, God decides to check and see how the cat is doing. The cat is sound asleep on his new pillow. God gently wakes him and asks, "How are you doing? Are you happy here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cat yawns and stretches and says, "Oh, I've never been happier in my life. And those Meals on Wheels you've been sending over, are the best!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6169650490006849474?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6169650490006849474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6169650490006849474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6169650490006849474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6169650490006849474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/07/cat-goes-to-heaven.html' title='A Cat Goes to Heaven'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-62752327147745238</id><published>2009-07-05T21:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:20:10.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gorilla in a Tree</title><content type='html'>A guy wakes up one morning to find a gorilla in his tree. He looks in the phone book and sure enough finds an ad for "Gorilla Pest Control." When he asks if they can remove the gorilla, the service guy asks, "Is it male or female?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Male," he replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah, we can do that. I'll be right there," he states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An hour later, the service guy shows up with a stick, a Rottweiler, a shotgun, and a large pair of handcuffs. He then gives the man some instructions. "I'm going to climb this tree and poke the gorilla with the stick until he falls out of the tree. When he does, the trained Rotty will move in and savage the gorilla's private parts. The gorilla will then cross his hands across his crotch to protect himself, and that's when you move in with the handcuffs!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man goes pale and asks, "Um, okay, but what do I do with the shotgun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service guy replies, "Hopefully nothing, but if I happen to fall out of the tree before the gorilla, you've got to shoot that Rottweiler!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-62752327147745238?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/62752327147745238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=62752327147745238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/62752327147745238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/62752327147745238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/07/gorilla-in-tree.html' title='Gorilla in a Tree'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1877766129758267459</id><published>2009-07-03T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:26:51.795-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blowing Chunks</title><content type='html'>A man walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a case of beer, any kind except Schlitz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says "What's wrong with Schlitz, don't you like it?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "I hate that shit. Last night I drank a whole case of Schlitz and blew chunks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, "You drink a case of any beer you're going to blow chunks." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't understand", says the man, "Chunks is my dog."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1877766129758267459?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1877766129758267459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1877766129758267459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1877766129758267459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1877766129758267459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/07/blowing-chunks.html' title='Blowing Chunks'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4717207405449325663</id><published>2009-06-30T21:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T21:16:26.826-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thoughts'/><title type='text'>ABC's of Life</title><content type='html'>A void negative sources, people, places, and habits.&lt;br /&gt;B elieve in yourself.&lt;br /&gt;C onsider things from every angle.&lt;br /&gt;D on’t give up and don’t give in.&lt;br /&gt;E verything you’re looking for lies behind the mask you wear.&lt;br /&gt;F amily and friends are hidden treasures, seek them and enjoy their riches.&lt;br /&gt;G ive more than you planned to.&lt;br /&gt;H ang on to your dreams.&lt;br /&gt;I f opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door.&lt;br /&gt;J udge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.&lt;br /&gt;K eep trying no matter how hard it seems.&lt;br /&gt;L ove yourself.&lt;br /&gt;M ake it happen.&lt;br /&gt;N ever lie, steal or cheat.&lt;br /&gt;O pen your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.&lt;br /&gt;P ractice makes perfect.&lt;br /&gt;Q uality not quantity in anything you do.&lt;br /&gt;R emember that silence is sometimes the best answer.&lt;br /&gt;S top procrastinating.&lt;br /&gt;T ake control of your own destiny.&lt;br /&gt;U nderstand yourself in order to better understand others.&lt;br /&gt;V isualize it.&lt;br /&gt;W hen you lose, don’t lose the lesson.&lt;br /&gt;X cellence in all your efforts.&lt;br /&gt;Y ou are unique, nothing can replace you.&lt;br /&gt;Z ero in on your target and go for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4717207405449325663?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4717207405449325663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4717207405449325663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4717207405449325663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4717207405449325663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/06/abcs-of-life.html' title='ABC&apos;s of Life'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5626840458315794783</id><published>2009-06-09T22:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T22:20:28.231-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adult joke'/><title type='text'>Adult Joke</title><content type='html'>A family are driving behind a garbage truck when a dildo flies out and thumps against the windscreen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embarrassed, and to spare her young son's innocence, the mother turns around and says "Don't worry. That was an insect."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which one of the boys replies "I'm surprised it could get off the ground with a cock like that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5626840458315794783?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5626840458315794783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5626840458315794783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5626840458315794783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5626840458315794783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/06/adult-joke.html' title='Adult Joke'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-213482977262491997</id><published>2009-05-28T23:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T23:48:40.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Man and His Equipment</title><content type='html'>We have the standard 6ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happens to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of  the fence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8ft.long ground rod, drove it 7.5 feet in the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I'm mowing the backyard and with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in he yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower round the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way. It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm standing there, I've got the running mower in my right hand and the 1.7 gigabit fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover, Time stood still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I notice is my balls trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs &amp; Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems as though the fence charger and the POS lawnmower were fighting over who could control my electrical impulses. Science says you cannot  crap, pee, and cum at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than an half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time creeping along and you're all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close &lt;br /&gt;together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand. At this point I'm 30 minutes ( maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences... but dad always had those POS chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the damp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas. Damn!, I think, as I remember I just filled up the tank!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Covered in poop, pee, jazzed , and with my balls on my chest I think 'Oh God,please die... pleeeeze die'.  But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from it's owner's right foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day... he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire.... I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had some how let go of the wire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon waking from my electrical induced sleep I realized a few things.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Three of my teeth seem to have melted.&lt;br /&gt;2. I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).&lt;br /&gt;3. poop, pee, and semen when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you think.&lt;br /&gt;4. My left eye will not open.&lt;br /&gt;5. My right eye will not close.&lt;br /&gt;6. The lawnmower runs like a sumnabitch now, seriously I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.&lt;br /&gt;7.My balls are still smaller than average, yet they are almost a foot long.&lt;br /&gt;8. I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don't understand this.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence , I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which reminds me to triple check before I mow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-213482977262491997?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/213482977262491997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=213482977262491997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/213482977262491997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/213482977262491997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/05/man-and-his-equipment.html' title='Man and His Equipment'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8262392932577525130</id><published>2009-05-28T06:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T06:42:00.689-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Things kids say'/><title type='text'>Kids Go Shopping</title><content type='html'>Two young boys walked into a pharmacy one day, picked out a box of tampons and proceeded to the checkout counter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man at the counter asked the older boy, "Son, how old are you?" "Eight", the boy replied. The man continued, "Do you know what these are used for?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy replied, "Not exactly, but they aren't for me. They're for him. He's my brother. He's four. We saw on TV that if you use these, you would be able to swim, play tennis and ride a bike. Right now, he can't do none of those".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8262392932577525130?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8262392932577525130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8262392932577525130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8262392932577525130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8262392932577525130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/05/kids-go-shopping.html' title='Kids Go Shopping'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-2784285556088830659</id><published>2009-05-27T23:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T23:41:44.502-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adult joke'/><title type='text'>Guilty Dave</title><content type='html'>Doctor Dave had sex with one of his patients and felt guilty all day long. No matter how much he tried to forget about it, he just couldn't. The guilt was overwhelming. But every once in awhile he'd hear an internal, reassuring voice in his head that said: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Dave, don't worry about it. You aren't the first medical practitioner to have sex with one of his patients and you won't be the last. And you're single. Just let it go Dave.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But invariably another voice in his head would bring him back to reality whispering: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave .............. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave..................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU'RE A VETERINARIAN, YOU SICK BASTARD!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-2784285556088830659?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/2784285556088830659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=2784285556088830659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/2784285556088830659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/2784285556088830659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/05/guilty-dave.html' title='Guilty Dave'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6238694247832659579</id><published>2009-05-27T00:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T21:12:28.192-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='butterfly art'/><title type='text'>Butterfly Art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/ShzPjovSroI/AAAAAAAABZ8/2ORCIRSKxuc/s1600-h/21_(1).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 158px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340371469292711554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/ShzPjovSroI/AAAAAAAABZ8/2ORCIRSKxuc/s200/21_(1).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/ShzO5L5ziwI/AAAAAAAABZs/FUqfPhFuCu8/s1600-h/21_(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 162px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340370739997674242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/ShzO5L5ziwI/AAAAAAAABZs/FUqfPhFuCu8/s200/21_(2).jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340371621137963266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/ShzPseaBWQI/AAAAAAAABaE/9drXN1-r87Q/s200/21_(3).jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Click on pictures to Enlarge)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6238694247832659579?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6238694247832659579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6238694247832659579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6238694247832659579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6238694247832659579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/05/butterfly-art.html' title='Butterfly Art'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/ShzPjovSroI/AAAAAAAABZ8/2ORCIRSKxuc/s72-c/21_(1).jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8543481041302191498</id><published>2009-05-23T23:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T00:25:24.645-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Did You Know'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Have you ever wondered?'/><title type='text'>Have You Ever Wondered....</title><content type='html'>I'm just passing this thought along..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wondered if the one dollar bills in your wallet were ever in a stripper's butt crack? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not, you're wondering now. &lt;br /&gt;______________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Have you ever wondered....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God dropped acid, would he see people? &lt;br /&gt;If someone with multiple personalities threatens to kill himself, is it considered a hostage situation? &lt;br /&gt;How do blind people know when they are done wiping? &lt;br /&gt;How the guy who drives the snowplow gets to work in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't  women put on mascara with their mouths closed? &lt;br /&gt;Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor,and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons? &lt;br /&gt;If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you know? ...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live. &lt;br /&gt;Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.&lt;br /&gt;23% of all photocopier faults worldwide are caused by people sitting on them and photocopying their butts.&lt;br /&gt;In every episode of Seinfeld there is a Superman somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;Males, on average, think about sex every 7 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;Grapes explode when you put them in the microwave. Go on, try it then.&lt;br /&gt;Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite.&lt;br /&gt;1 in every 200 people are a psychopath and they look just like everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8543481041302191498?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8543481041302191498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8543481041302191498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8543481041302191498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8543481041302191498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/05/have-you-ever-wondered.html' title='Have You Ever Wondered....'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6391218908131519525</id><published>2009-05-15T20:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T20:09:11.873-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='police joke'/><title type='text'>Little Tyrone</title><content type='html'>A 1st grade teacher in a Detroit, MI elementary school asked her students if they could tell the class what sound a pig makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Tyrone stood up and said, "Up against the wall mother fucker!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6391218908131519525?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6391218908131519525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6391218908131519525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6391218908131519525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6391218908131519525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-tyrone.html' title='Little Tyrone'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1968874487632227452</id><published>2009-04-30T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:04:07.528-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tornado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oklahoma'/><title type='text'>You Know You Grew Up in Tornado Alley if...</title><content type='html'>You know you grew up in tornado alley if...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing you do if you hear tornado sirens during the day is check your watch to see if it's noon...or run outside to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't get worried unless the sky looks "green".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You use the word "tornado" as a verb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You chuckle at all the facebook groups called "I survived the ___ tornado."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might go indoors when there's a tornado, but you won't "seek shelter" for anything less than an F3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what Doppler radar, Hook echo, wall cloud, and rain-wrapped all mean. And you can read the radar map.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've never exactly memorized the tornado precautions, but you've heard them enough times that you know them by heart anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching the weather is entertaining. And red on the Doppler radar is exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phrase "Tornado on the ground, take your immediate tornado precautions" sends exciting shivers up your spine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've seen photos/videos of tornados and said, "Wow, that's a nice one!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can feel/smell tornado weather brewing a few hours before the storm actually begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's an odd feeling as though you've misplaced something if you make it all the way to June without a tornado warning near you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think people that live in earthquake and/or hurricane prone areas are crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what people are talking about when they mention the "May 3rd/Moore(Oklahoma)" tornado and the "Greensburg(Kansas)/May4th" tornado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You watch the movie "Twister" just so you can point out all the inaccuracies in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know your weathermen by their first names. i.e. Travis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you hear the tornado sirens go off, you go outside to watch the storm and take pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the tornado video footage comes from everyday people with camcorders instead of from actual news/weathermen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're sure there's a giant tornado magnet hidden somewhere in Moore. And that there are smaller ones distributed throughout trailer parks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that the four seasons are actually: summer, late summer, winter (if you're lucky), and tornado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't consider it windy until the windspeed is faster than 30mph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are highly entertained by people from outside tornado alley when there is a tornado watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You learned that some other states don't have tornado drills from this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's enough random stuff in your tornado shelter that you could live there for a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stand under your carport or open your front door to watch hail and/or thunderstorms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the difference between a basement, a cellar, and a storm shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is a completely acceptable subject for conversation, at any time, for any occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your local mall has "tornado shelter" signs posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't bother you the next day to find out that your area was under a tornado watch the night before and you had no idea. Unless, of course, it caused you to miss some interesting cloud formations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to "play" in the basement/cellar/storm shelter numbers among your favorite childhood memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You keep matches, candles, and candleholders in more than one place in your house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your town will never get hit by a tornado because you're between two rivers or because an old Indian legend says so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You complain about severe weather reports that interrupt the TV show you're watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can get together all your most important possessions in 2 minutes flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When tornado sirens woke you up in the middle of the night...you rolled over and went back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've ever tried to reassure someone by saying that "if anything forms it will only be a little tornado"...and couldn't understand why this didn't calm them down any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's normal for your area to be under a tornado watch for multiple days in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When looking at houses/buildings you give them a "tornado survival ranking". i.e., how big of a tornado it would take to destroy it. Also, if you are in a new building or house, you evaluate in your mind the best place to take shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've ever asked (probably w/ disdain) "Don't they know the difference between a warning and a watch?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what towns/cities a tornado normally passes through before coming your way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From watching radar maps, you've heard of almost every small town in your state. And you know what towns are around them, but you have no idea where in the state they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what the freight-train noise sounds like from personal experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You laughed at everything in this list, but you also respect a tornado's power. And you know that after it's over, clean-up and re-building has to begin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1968874487632227452?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1968874487632227452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1968874487632227452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1968874487632227452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1968874487632227452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-know-you-grew-up-in-tornado-alley.html' title='You Know You Grew Up in Tornado Alley if...'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1358285923231078121</id><published>2009-04-25T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:07:21.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Poor Are We</title><content type='html'>One day a father of a rich family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing him how poor people can be. They spent a day and a night on the farm of a very poor family. When they got back from their trip the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very good, Dad!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you see how poor people can be?" the father asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And what did you learn?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son answered, "I saw that we have one dog at home, and they have four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a pool that reaches to the middle of the garden. They have a creek that has no end. We have imported lamps in the garden. They have the stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our patio reaches to the front yard, they have a whole horizon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the little boy was finishing, his father was speechless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His son added, "Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1358285923231078121?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1358285923231078121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1358285923231078121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1358285923231078121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1358285923231078121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-poor-are-we.html' title='How Poor Are We'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6857863838163821968</id><published>2009-04-24T01:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T15:36:58.493-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainbows'/><title type='text'>Rainbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SfqR5CPHc3I/AAAAAAAABT4/kRl8AzkF8zU/s1600-h/rainbow-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330733517985248114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SfqR5CPHc3I/AAAAAAAABT4/kRl8AzkF8zU/s320/rainbow-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Click to enlarge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SfqR0m1vehI/AAAAAAAABTw/faPQ1hV8sFU/s1600-h/rainbow-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6857863838163821968?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6857863838163821968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6857863838163821968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6857863838163821968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6857863838163821968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/rainbow.html' title='Rainbow'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SfqR5CPHc3I/AAAAAAAABT4/kRl8AzkF8zU/s72-c/rainbow-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7821590990488465686</id><published>2009-04-23T01:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T01:14:30.167-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Kick Rule</title><content type='html'>A big city lawyer went duck hunting in rural Tennessee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shot and dropped a bird, but it fell into a farmer's field on the other side of a fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the lawyer climbed over the fence, an elderly farmer drove up on his tractor and asked him what he was doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The litigate responded, 'I shot a duck and it fell in this field,and now I'm going to retrieve it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer replied, 'This is my property, and you are not coming over here.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The indignant lawyer said, 'I am one of the best trial attorneys in the United States and, if you don't let me get that duck, I'll sue you and take everything you own.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said, 'Apparently, you don't know how we settle disputes in Tennessee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We settle small disagreements with the 'Three Kick Rule.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer asked, 'What is the 'Three Kick Rule'?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Farmer replied, 'Well, because the dispute occurs on my land, I get to go first. I kick you three times and then you kick me three times and so on back and forth until someone gives up.'  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The attorney quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the old codger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He agreed to abide by the local custom. The old farmer slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked up to the attorney. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His first kick planted the toe of his heavy steel toed work boot into the lawyer's groin and dropped him to his knees. His second kick to the midriff sent the lawyer's last meal gushing from his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer was on all fours when the farmer's third kick to his rear end, sent him face-first into a fresh cow pie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lawyer summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet. Wiping his face with the arm of his jacket, he said, 'Okay, you old fart. Now it's my turn.' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I love this part)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old farmer smiled and said , 'Nah, I give up. You can have the duck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still laughing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7821590990488465686?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7821590990488465686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7821590990488465686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7821590990488465686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7821590990488465686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/three-kick-rule.html' title='Three Kick Rule'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6950715596961243928</id><published>2009-04-21T01:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T01:18:04.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye to Mother</title><content type='html'>We were dressed and ready to go out for the New Years Eve Party. We turned on a night light, turned the answering machine on, covered our pet parakeet and put the cat in the backyard. We phoned the local cab company and requested a taxi. The taxi arrived and we opened the front door to leave the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cat we put out in the back yard, scoots back into the front door. We didn't want the cat shut in the house because she always tries to eat the bird. My wife goes out to the taxi, while I went inside to get the cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cat runs upstairs, with me in hot pursuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting in the cab, my wife doesn't want the driver to know that the house will be empty for the night. So, she explains to the taxi driver that I will be out soon, 'He's just going upstairs to say Goodbye to my mother.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later, I get into the cab. 'Sorry I took so long,' I said,as we drove away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'That stupid bitch was hiding under the bed. I had to poke her with a coat hanger to get her to come out! She tried to take off, so I grabbed her by the neck. Then, I had to wrap her in a blanket to keep her from scratching me. But it worked! I hauled her fat ass downstairs and threw her out into the back yard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The cab driver hit a parked car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6950715596961243928?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6950715596961243928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6950715596961243928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6950715596961243928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6950715596961243928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/saying-goodbye-to-mother.html' title='Saying Goodbye to Mother'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4030739013142767886</id><published>2009-04-12T21:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:24:43.965-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Easter Joke'/><title type='text'>Easter Joke</title><content type='html'>How do you catch a unique rabbit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unique up on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you catch a tame rabbit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tame way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4030739013142767886?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4030739013142767886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4030739013142767886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4030739013142767886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4030739013142767886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-joke.html' title='Easter Joke'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1186518383509844200</id><published>2009-04-04T18:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T00:17:41.477-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='why parents drink'/><title type='text'>Why Parents Drink</title><content type='html'>Passing by my son's bedroom, I was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then I saw an Envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to 'Mom.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the worst premonition I opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Dad and you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it' s not only the passion...Mom she's pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacy said that we will be very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be growing marijuana for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry Mom. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, &lt;br /&gt;Your Son &lt;br /&gt;Andrew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. Mom, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tony's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a Report card that's in my center desk drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. Call me when it's safe to come home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1186518383509844200?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1186518383509844200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1186518383509844200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1186518383509844200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1186518383509844200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-parents-drink.html' title='Why Parents Drink'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5640779140906120967</id><published>2009-03-16T01:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T01:08:23.497-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frog joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adult joke'/><title type='text'>A Kid and His Frog</title><content type='html'>A kid is walking down the street and behind him he is pulling a squashed frog. He finally gets to where he is going and it turns out to be the local cat house. He goes inside and tells the Madam that he has money and would like to have sex with a certain girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The madam questions him at first but since he does have the money figures why the hell not. So, she asks the boy, "Which girl?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I would like to have sex with Christie" the boy answered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Why Christie?" Asks the madam. " She is the most diseased girl I got. I have several younger and cleaner girls that you could have"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" All I know is that I hear all the men say that have to get a shot after having sex with her. I have the money, now I want to have sex with her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The madam relents and shows the boy upstairs. After a little while he comes back down and is getting ready to leave when the madam says, " I have two questions, why did you want to have sex with Christie and why are you dragging a squashed frog behind you?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the boy answers, " Tonight my parents will go out. They always get me the same babysitter because she doesn't charge much, but she does have a fondness for young boys and will have sex with me like she always does. After which she will have what I just got from Christie. When they get back home my dad will take her home but on the way he will stop and have his way with her, and thus catching the disease that I gave her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" When my dad gets back home he will go upstairs and make love to my mom giving her the disease that he got from the babysitter. In the morning, after my dad leaves for work the milkman will come by and will have his way with my mom and he will get the same disease."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all this the madam asks, "Why would you want to give the milkman an std?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy responds " CAUSE THAT'S THE GOD DAMN BASTARD WHO RAN OVER MY FROG!!!!!!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5640779140906120967?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5640779140906120967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5640779140906120967' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5640779140906120967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5640779140906120967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/03/kid-and-his-frog.html' title='A Kid and His Frog'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-622700892816931011</id><published>2009-03-15T04:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T01:17:38.274-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cybersex'/><title type='text'>Cyber Sex</title><content type='html'>Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known as "Cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared through Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of Cybersex. Then again, maybe he does....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Wal-Mart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner. It's smells funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I want you! Would you like to screw me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: OK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: My hands suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'll pay for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly...I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing you hard tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take of my panties!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you... ummm... wait a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: What's the matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Are you OK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit! I'm turning all red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Can I help?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Come back to me lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I found it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: Me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately our naked bodies pressing each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: What's the matter now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Mmmm, yes. Come on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know...thing...in your... you know...woman's thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm flaccid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around, an incredulous look on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my wiener is all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Go to hell! I'm logging off, you loser!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh nooooo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetheart: Bye!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-622700892816931011?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/622700892816931011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=622700892816931011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/622700892816931011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/622700892816931011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/03/cyber-sex.html' title='Cyber Sex'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-46755826982014024</id><published>2009-03-13T01:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T01:20:52.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Meaning of the word FUCK</title><content type='html'>Perhaps one of the most interesting and colorful words in the English language today is the word "fuck". It is the one magical word which, just by its sound, can describe pain, pleasure, love, and hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In language, "fuck" falls into many grammatical categories. &lt;br /&gt;· It can be used as a verb, both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive (Mary was fucked by John). &lt;br /&gt;· It can be an action verb (John really gives a fuck), a passive verb (Mary really doesn't give a fuck), an adverb (Mary is fucking interested in John), or as a noun (Mary is a terrific fuck). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;· It can also be used as an adjective (Mary is fucking beautiful) or an interjection (Fuck! I'm late for my date with Mary). &lt;br /&gt;· It can even be used as a conjunction (Mary is easy, fuck she's also stupid). &lt;br /&gt;As you can see, there are very few words with the overall versatility of the word "fuck". Aside from its sexual connotations, this incredible word can be used to describe many situations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greetings "How the fuck are ya?"&lt;br /&gt;Fraud "I got fucked by the car dealer."&lt;br /&gt;Resignation "Oh, fuck it!"&lt;br /&gt;Trouble "I guess I'm fucked now."&lt;br /&gt;Aggression "FUCK YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;Disgust "Fuck me."&lt;br /&gt;Confusion "What the fuck.......?"&lt;br /&gt;Difficulty "I don't understand this fucking business!"&lt;br /&gt;Despair "Fucked again..."&lt;br /&gt;Pleasure "I fucking couldn't be happier."&lt;br /&gt;Displeasure "What the fuck is going on here?"&lt;br /&gt;Lost "Where the fuck are we."&lt;br /&gt;Disbelief "UNFUCKING BELIEVABLE!"&lt;br /&gt;Retaliation "Up your fucking ass!"&lt;br /&gt;Denial "I didn't fucking do it."&lt;br /&gt;Perplexity "I know fuck all about it."&lt;br /&gt;Apathy "Who really gives a fuck, anyhow?"&lt;br /&gt;Greetings "How the fuck are ya?"&lt;br /&gt;Suspicion "Who the fuck are you?"&lt;br /&gt;Panic "Let's get the fuck out of here."&lt;br /&gt;Directions "Fuck off."&lt;br /&gt;Disbelief "How the fuck did you do that?"&lt;br /&gt;It can be used in an anatomical description- "He's a fucking asshole."&lt;br /&gt;It can be used to tell time- "It's five fucking thirty."&lt;br /&gt;It can be used in business- "How did I wind up with this fucking job?"&lt;br /&gt;It can be maternal- "Mother fucker."&lt;br /&gt;It can be political- "Fuck Dan Quayle!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has also been used by many notable people throughout history...&lt;br /&gt;"What the fuck was that?"&lt;br /&gt;- Mayor of Hiroshima&lt;br /&gt;"Where the fuck is all this water coming from?"&lt;br /&gt;- Captain of the Titanic&lt;br /&gt;"That's not a real fucking gun."&lt;br /&gt;- John Lennon&lt;br /&gt;"Who's gonna fucking find out?"&lt;br /&gt;- Richard Nixon&lt;br /&gt;"Heads are going to fucking roll."&lt;br /&gt;- Anne Boleyn&lt;br /&gt;"Let the fucking woman drive."&lt;br /&gt;- Commander of Space Shuttle&lt;br /&gt;"What fucking map?"&lt;br /&gt;- "Challenger," Mark Thatcher&lt;br /&gt;"Any fucking idiot could understand that."&lt;br /&gt;- Albert Einstein&lt;br /&gt;"It does so fucking look like her!"&lt;br /&gt;- Picasso&lt;br /&gt;"How the fuck did you work that out?"&lt;br /&gt;- Pythagoras&lt;br /&gt;"You want what on the fucking ceiling?"&lt;br /&gt;- Michaelangelo&lt;br /&gt;"Fuck a duck."&lt;br /&gt;- Walt Disney&lt;br /&gt;"Why?- Because its fucking there!"&lt;br /&gt;- Edmund Hilary&lt;br /&gt;"I don't suppose its gonna fucking rain?"&lt;br /&gt;- Joan of Arc&lt;br /&gt;"Scattered fucking showers my ass."&lt;br /&gt;- Noah&lt;br /&gt;"I need this parade like I need a fucking hole in my head."&lt;br /&gt;- John F. Kennedy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-46755826982014024?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/46755826982014024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=46755826982014024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/46755826982014024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/46755826982014024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/03/meaning-of-word-fuck.html' title='The Meaning of the word FUCK'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-726979822139779372</id><published>2009-03-12T23:03:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T00:01:46.315-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainbow quotes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainbows'/><title type='text'>Rainbow Quotes &amp; Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;(Click on any picture to enlarge!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SbnbvUCeUHI/AAAAAAAABHY/NGO1j8MY1E8/s1600-h/roserainbow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312518841339629682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SbnbvUCeUHI/AAAAAAAABHY/NGO1j8MY1E8/s200/roserainbow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could catch a rainbow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I would do it just for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And share with you its beauty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On the days you are feeling blue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I could build a mountain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You could call your very own&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A place to find serenity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A place to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I could take your troubles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I would toss them in the sea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But all these things I am finding&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Are impossible for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I cannot build a mountain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or catch a rainbow fair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But let me be what I know best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A friend that's always there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SbnbNnXvn_I/AAAAAAAABHI/sM6Eudu0tM8/s1600-h/rainbow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312518262413565938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SbnbNnXvn_I/AAAAAAAABHI/sM6Eudu0tM8/s200/rainbow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is like a rainbow...you need both the sun and the rain to make its colors appear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to have friendship you must look past the color to the soul, because within the soul lives a rainbow of many colors. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sh9r-_SiMlI/AAAAAAAABas/PEQScRJl6i0/s1600-h/rainbows_small-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341106412969931346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sh9r-_SiMlI/AAAAAAAABas/PEQScRJl6i0/s200/rainbows_small-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sh9qlgYNU7I/AAAAAAAABak/KdYzYjym1EE/s1600-h/rainbows_small-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;May you always have work for your hands to do.&lt;br /&gt;May your pockets always hold a coin or two.&lt;br /&gt;May the sun always shine bright on your windowpane.&lt;br /&gt;May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.&lt;br /&gt;May the hand of friend always be near you.&lt;br /&gt;May flowers always line your path and sunshine light your day.&lt;br /&gt;May songbirds serenade you every step along the way.&lt;br /&gt;May a rainbow run beside you in a sky that’s always blue.&lt;br /&gt;And may happiness fill your heart each day your whole life through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312519357745760658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SbncNXzSiZI/AAAAAAAABHg/1gbAoh7I8Ro/s200/rainbows.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colors, but where exactly does the one first blendingly enter into the other? So with sanity and insanity. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Herman Melville&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-726979822139779372?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/726979822139779372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=726979822139779372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/726979822139779372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/726979822139779372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/03/rainbow-quotes-pictures.html' title='Rainbow Quotes &amp; Pictures'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SbnbvUCeUHI/AAAAAAAABHY/NGO1j8MY1E8/s72-c/roserainbow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8005175473797299476</id><published>2009-02-25T19:07:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T19:09:12.836-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lollipop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lollipop quotes'/><title type='text'>More Lollipop Quotes and pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrk0ApleI/AAAAAAAABEY/grzEmnFdywU/s1600-h/sweeterthan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrk0ApleI/AAAAAAAABEY/grzEmnFdywU/s200/sweeterthan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306906753595184610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrdMuROjI/AAAAAAAABEQ/gq19ypMuKEE/s1600-h/84cb73bf8b21584c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 167px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrdMuROjI/AAAAAAAABEQ/gq19ypMuKEE/s200/84cb73bf8b21584c.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306906622790023730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrX0Zny4I/AAAAAAAABEI/Jlo0m9VMsU8/s1600-h/Bite+Me....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrX0Zny4I/AAAAAAAABEI/Jlo0m9VMsU8/s200/Bite+Me....jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306906530361625474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8005175473797299476?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8005175473797299476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8005175473797299476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8005175473797299476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8005175473797299476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/02/more-lollipop-quotes-and-pics.html' title='More Lollipop Quotes and pics'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrk0ApleI/AAAAAAAABEY/grzEmnFdywU/s72-c/sweeterthan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-3355262176772895797</id><published>2009-02-25T19:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T19:07:12.413-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lollipop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lollipop quotes'/><title type='text'>Lollipop Quotes and Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrNR6mobI/AAAAAAAABEA/xu9bU-Rb4g8/s1600-h/suck+on+you.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrNR6mobI/AAAAAAAABEA/xu9bU-Rb4g8/s200/suck+on+you.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306906349306028466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrEA5S49I/AAAAAAAABD4/C4xEbVfz6PY/s1600-h/lickit.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 164px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrEA5S49I/AAAAAAAABD4/C4xEbVfz6PY/s200/lickit.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306906190118314962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXq0XWGPKI/AAAAAAAABDw/AOTKxyU3MV4/s1600-h/howmanylicks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXq0XWGPKI/AAAAAAAABDw/AOTKxyU3MV4/s200/howmanylicks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306905921266793634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-3355262176772895797?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/3355262176772895797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=3355262176772895797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3355262176772895797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3355262176772895797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/02/lollipop-quotes-and-pics.html' title='Lollipop Quotes and Pics'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SaXrNR6mobI/AAAAAAAABEA/xu9bU-Rb4g8/s72-c/suck+on+you.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5490033350765279609</id><published>2009-02-19T21:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:40:02.060-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Jokes'/><title type='text'>Three Mice in a Bar</title><content type='html'>Three mice are sitting in a bar in a pretty rough neighborhood late at night trying to impress each other about how tough they are. The first mouse slams a shot of scotch, and pounds the shot glass to the bar, turns to the second mouse and says: "When I see a mousetrap, I get on it, lie on my back, and set it off with my foot. When the bar comes down, I catch it in my teeth, and then bench press it 100 times."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second mouse orders up two shots of tequila. He grabs one in each paw, slams the shots, and pounds the glasses to the bar. He turns to the other mice and replies: "Yeah, well when I see rat poison, I collect as much as I can and take it home. In the morning, I grind it up into a powder and put it in my coffee so I get a good buzz going for the rest of the day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first mouse and the second mouse then turn to the third mouse. The third mouse lets out a long sigh and says to the first two, "I don't have time for this bullshit. I gotta go home and fuck the cat."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5490033350765279609?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5490033350765279609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5490033350765279609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5490033350765279609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5490033350765279609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-mice-in-bar.html' title='Three Mice in a Bar'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4888761318558133638</id><published>2008-12-21T23:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T23:50:01.268-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas from the Heart</title><content type='html'>When someone we love dies, if we close our eyes, we can still see them in our every day walk of life. If you have lost someone you love, look for them today… you may be surprised to find that they are not really gone at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard your voice in the wind today&lt;br /&gt;and I turned to see your face;&lt;br /&gt;The warmth of the wind caressed me&lt;br /&gt;as I stood silently in place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt your touch in the sun today&lt;br /&gt;as its warmth filled the sky;&lt;br /&gt;I closed my eyes for your embrace&lt;br /&gt;and my spirit soared high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw your eyes in the window pane&lt;br /&gt;as I watched the falling rain;&lt;br /&gt;It seemed as each raindrop fell&lt;br /&gt;it quietly said your name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held you close in my heart today&lt;br /&gt;it made me feel complete;&lt;br /&gt;You may have died...but you are not gone&lt;br /&gt;you will always be a part of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as the sun shines...&lt;br /&gt;the wind blows...&lt;br /&gt;the rain falls...&lt;br /&gt;You will live on inside of me forever&lt;br /&gt;for that is all my heart knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4888761318558133638?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4888761318558133638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4888761318558133638' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4888761318558133638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4888761318558133638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-from-heart.html' title='Christmas from the Heart'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8699207442095000021</id><published>2008-12-16T21:52:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T21:58:30.593-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby pictures'/><title type='text'>My Baby Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4wQJ6fPI/AAAAAAAAA20/R3-3_a4Ll-M/s1600-h/Tresa3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280603333457509618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 108px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4wQJ6fPI/AAAAAAAAA20/R3-3_a4Ll-M/s200/Tresa3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4d7OL2VI/AAAAAAAAA2s/nJcPtSRf49w/s1600-h/Tresa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280603018600634706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4d7OL2VI/AAAAAAAAA2s/nJcPtSRf49w/s200/Tresa1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4BJACISI/AAAAAAAAA2k/3dlhoZHbJJI/s1600-h/Tresababy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280602524083167522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4BJACISI/AAAAAAAAA2k/3dlhoZHbJJI/s200/Tresababy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8699207442095000021?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8699207442095000021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8699207442095000021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8699207442095000021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8699207442095000021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-baby-pictures.html' title='My Baby Pictures'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUh4wQJ6fPI/AAAAAAAAA20/R3-3_a4Ll-M/s72-c/Tresa3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4427729523036870185</id><published>2008-12-13T02:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T02:23:03.658-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking Eggs</title><content type='html'>Breaking Eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A six-year-old boy told his father he wanted to marry the little girl across the street. The father, being modern and well-schooled in handling children, hid his smile behind his hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'That's a serious step,' he said. 'Have you thought it out completely?' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Yes,' his young son answered. 'We can spend one week in my room and the next in hers. It's right across the street, so I can run home if I get scared of the dark.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'How about transportation?' the father asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I have my wagon, and we both have our tricycles,' the little boy answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy had an answer to every question the father raised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, in exasperation, his dad asked, 'What about babies? When you're married, you're liable to have babies, you know.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'We've thought about that, too,' the little boy replied. 'We're not going to have babies. Every time she lays an egg, I'm going to step on it!'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4427729523036870185?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4427729523036870185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4427729523036870185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4427729523036870185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4427729523036870185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/12/breaking-eggs.html' title='Breaking Eggs'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4188047340098458462</id><published>2008-12-12T02:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T02:11:31.589-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='full moon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='NASA'/><title type='text'>There will be a Full Moon Over Tulsa Friday Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUIcqDAB-HI/AAAAAAAAA2c/YHvMHTFfX5Q/s1600-h/fullmoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278813221917161586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUIcqDAB-HI/AAAAAAAAA2c/YHvMHTFfX5Q/s320/fullmoon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The full moon Friday night will be the biggest one of the year as Earth's natural satellite reaches its closest point to our planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earth, the moon and the sun are all bound together by gravity, which keeps us going around the sun and keeps the moon going around us as it goes through phases. The moon makes a trip around Earth every 29.5 days. But the orbit is not a perfect circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon's average distance from us is about 238,855 miles. Friday night it will be just 221,560 miles away. It will be 14 percent bigger in our sky and 30 percent brighter than some other full moons during the year, according to NASA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tides will be higher Friday night, too. Earth's oceans are pulled by the gravity of the moon and the sun. So when the moon is closer, tides are pulled higher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scientists call these perigean tides, because the moon's closest point to Earth is called perigee. The farthest point on the lunar orbit is called apogee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some other strange lunar facts:&lt;br /&gt;-- The moon is moving away as you read this, by about 1.6 inches a year. Eventually it'll be torn apart as an expanding sun pushes the moon back toward Earth for a wrenching close encounter.&lt;br /&gt;-- There is no proof the full moon makes people crazy.&lt;br /&gt;-- Beaches are more polluted during full moon, owing to the higher tides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moon will rise Friday evening right around sunset, no matter where you are. That's because of the celestial mechanics that produce a full moon: The moon and the sun are on opposite sides of the Earth, so that sunlight hits the full face of the moon and bounces back to our eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At moonrise, the moon will appear even larger than it will later in the night when it's higher in the sky. This is an illusion that scientists can't fully explain. Some think it has to do with our perception of things on the horizon vs. stuff overhead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try this trick, though: Using a pencil eraser or similar object held at arm's length, gauge the size of the moon when it's near the horizon and again later when it's higher up and seems smaller. You'll see that when compared to a fixed object, the moon will be the same size in both cases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see all this on each night surrounding the full moon, too, because the moon will be nearly full, rising earlier Thursday night and later Saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly, because of the mechanics of all this, the moon is never truly 100 percent full. For that to happen, all three objects have to be in a perfect line, and when that rare circumstance occurs, there is a total eclipse of the moon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4188047340098458462?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4188047340098458462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4188047340098458462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4188047340098458462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4188047340098458462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/12/there-will-be-full-moon-over-tulsa.html' title='There will be a Full Moon Over Tulsa Friday Night'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SUIcqDAB-HI/AAAAAAAAA2c/YHvMHTFfX5Q/s72-c/fullmoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8519084776908410822</id><published>2008-12-06T00:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T00:16:37.292-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thoughts'/><title type='text'>If We Could Shrink the Earth's Population</title><content type='html'>If we could shrink the earth's population&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we could shrink the earth's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all the existing human ratios remaining the same, it would look something like the following.  There would be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57 Asians &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 Europeans &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 from the Western Hemisphere, both north and south &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 would be Africans &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52 would be female &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48 would be male &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70 would be non-white&lt;br /&gt;30 would be white &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70 would be non-Christian&lt;br /&gt;30 would be Christian &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89 would be heterosexual&lt;br /&gt;11 would be homosexual &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 people would possess 59% of the entire world's wealth and all 6 would be from the United States. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80 would live in substandard housing &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70 would be unable to read &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50 would suffer from malnutrition &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ONE)1 would be near death; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ONE)1 would be near birth; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ONE)1 (yes, only 1) would have a college education; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(ONE)1 (yes, only 1) would own a computer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When one considers our world from such a compressed perspective, the need for acceptance, understanding and education becomes glaringly apparent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, therefore . . . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of this world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the million who will not survive this week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish someplace, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can attend a church meeting without fear of harassment, arrest, torture, or death, you are more blessed than three billion people in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation, you are ahead of 500 million people in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you hold up your head with a smile on your face and are truly thankful, you are blessed because the majority can, but most do not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you can read this message, you are more blessed than over two billion people in the world who cannot read at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you read this and are reminded how life is in the rest of the world, remember just how blessed you really are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8519084776908410822?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8519084776908410822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8519084776908410822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8519084776908410822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8519084776908410822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/12/if-we-could-shrink-earths-population.html' title='If We Could Shrink the Earth&apos;s Population'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7602875792278289364</id><published>2008-12-01T03:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T00:32:31.907-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational Stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thoughts'/><title type='text'>IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER</title><content type='html'>I would have talked less and listened more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have taken the time to listen to my Mother ramble about her youth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There would have been more "I love yous"... more "I'm sorrys"...but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be courageous and bold. When you look back on your life, you'll regret the things you didn't do more than the ones you did."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7602875792278289364?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7602875792278289364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7602875792278289364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7602875792278289364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7602875792278289364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/12/if-i-had-my-life-to-live-over.html' title='IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4150541540674186519</id><published>2008-11-26T00:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T00:48:06.473-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational Stories'/><title type='text'>The Writing on the Wall</title><content type='html'>A weary mother returned from the store,&lt;br /&gt;Lugging groceries through the kitchen door.&lt;br /&gt;Awaiting her arrival was her 8 year old son,&lt;br /&gt;Anxious to relate what his younger brother had done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"While I was out playing and Dad was on a call,&lt;br /&gt;T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!&lt;br /&gt;It's on the new paper you just hung in the den.&lt;br /&gt;I told him you'd be mad at having to do it again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She let out a moan and furrowed her brow,&lt;br /&gt;"Where is your little brother right now?"&lt;br /&gt;She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,&lt;br /&gt;She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called his full name as she entered his room.&lt;br /&gt;He trembled with fear--he knew that meant doom!&lt;br /&gt;For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved&lt;br /&gt;About the expensive wallpaper and how she had saved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,&lt;br /&gt;She condemned his actions and total lack of care.&lt;br /&gt;The more she scolded, the madder she got,&lt;br /&gt;Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She headed for the den to confirm her fears.&lt;br /&gt;When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.&lt;br /&gt;The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.&lt;br /&gt;It said, "I love Mommy," surrounded by a heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,&lt;br /&gt;With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.&lt;br /&gt;A reminder to her, and indeed to all,&lt;br /&gt;Take time to read the handwriting on the wall&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4150541540674186519?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4150541540674186519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4150541540674186519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4150541540674186519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4150541540674186519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/11/writing-on-wall.html' title='The Writing on the Wall'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-582572708533728650</id><published>2008-11-06T04:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T00:26:31.798-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>There are two days in every week about which we should not worry.&lt;br /&gt;            Two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            One of these days is &lt;strong&gt;yesterday&lt;/strong&gt; with its mistakes and cares,&lt;br /&gt;            Its faults and blunders, Its aches and pains.&lt;br /&gt;            Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control.&lt;br /&gt;            All the money in the world cannot bring back yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;            We cannot undo a single act we performed.&lt;br /&gt;            We cannot erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            The other day we should not worry about is &lt;strong&gt;tomorrow&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;            With its possible adversities, Its burdens, &lt;br /&gt;            Its large promise and poor performance.&lt;br /&gt;            Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control.&lt;br /&gt;            Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, &lt;br /&gt;            but it will rise.&lt;br /&gt;            Until it does, we have no stake in tomorrow, for it is yet unborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            This just leaves only one day . . . &lt;strong&gt;Today&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;            Any person can fight the battles of just one day.&lt;br /&gt;            It is only when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternity's -&lt;br /&gt;            yesterday and tomorrow that we break down.&lt;br /&gt;            It is not the experience of today that drives people mad.&lt;br /&gt;            It is the remorse or bitterness for something which happened yesterday &lt;br /&gt;            and the dread of what tomorrow may bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Let us therefore live but one day at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-582572708533728650?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/582572708533728650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=582572708533728650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/582572708533728650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/582572708533728650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/11/yesterday-today-tomorrow.html' title='Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6152323051945112783</id><published>2008-10-09T01:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T02:00:31.842-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><title type='text'>Halloween Jokes</title><content type='html'>What do you get when you cross a canary with a monster?&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know, but when it sings you’d better listen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did the little girl monster eat bullets?&lt;br /&gt;She wanted to grow bangs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it good to play cards at the cemetery?&lt;br /&gt;Because you can always did up an extra player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knock! Knock!&lt;br /&gt;Who’s there? &lt;br /&gt;Ice Cream.&lt;br /&gt;Ice Cream who?&lt;br /&gt;Ice Cream when I see a spider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is the best time to tell scary stories?&lt;br /&gt;When the spirit moves you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do Monsters eat for a snack?&lt;br /&gt;Lady-fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can you tell when a monster has a bad cold?&lt;br /&gt;By its coffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s a lovable monster?&lt;br /&gt;One that hugs you to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What snack did the monsters give away at their party?&lt;br /&gt;Free-toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is a ghost’s favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did one mummy say to the other mummy?&lt;br /&gt;‘That about wraps it up!’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6152323051945112783?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6152323051945112783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6152323051945112783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6152323051945112783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6152323051945112783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/10/halloween-jokes.html' title='Halloween Jokes'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-3691961754344926264</id><published>2008-10-07T00:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T00:54:40.731-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex therapy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old people'/><title type='text'>Sex Therapy</title><content type='html'>A couple, both well into their 80s, go to a sex therapist's office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor asks, "What can I do for you?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man says, "Will you watch us have sexual intercourse?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor raises both eyebrows, but he is so amazed that such an elderly couple is asking for sexual advice that he agrees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the couple finishes, the doctor says, "There's absolutely nothing wrong with the way you have intercourse." He thanks them for coming, he wishes them good luck, he charges them $50 and he says goodbye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next week, however, the couple returns and asks the sex therapist to watch again. The sex therapist is a bit puzzled, but agrees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happens several weeks in a row. The couple makes an appointment, has intercourse with no problems, pays the doctor, then leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after 5 or 6 weeks of this routine, the doctor says, "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Just what are you trying to find out?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man says, "We're not trying to find out anything. She's married and we can't go to her house. I'm married and we can't go to my house. The Holiday Inn charges $98. The Hilton charges $139. We do it here for $50, and I get $43 back from Medicare...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-3691961754344926264?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/3691961754344926264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=3691961754344926264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3691961754344926264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3691961754344926264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/10/sex-therapy.html' title='Sex Therapy'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4368295167129926896</id><published>2008-09-21T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T17:26:59.415-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reduce stress'/><title type='text'>Help with Stress</title><content type='html'>A lecturer when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked 'How heavy is this glass of water?' Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, 'The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.&lt;br /&gt;If I hold it for an hour, I 'll have an ache in my right arm.&lt;br /&gt;If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.&lt;br /&gt;In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continued, and that's the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my friend, put down anything that may be a burden to you right now. Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.&lt;br /&gt;* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.&lt;br /&gt;* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.&lt;br /&gt;* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.&lt;br /&gt;* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.&lt;br /&gt;* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.&lt;br /&gt;* It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to be kind to others.&lt;br /&gt;* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.&lt;br /&gt;* Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.&lt;br /&gt;* It's the second mouse that gets the cheese.&lt;br /&gt;* When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.&lt;br /&gt;* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.&lt;br /&gt;* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.&lt;br /&gt;* We could learn a lot from crayons... Some are sharp, some are pretty, and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.&lt;br /&gt;*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.&lt;br /&gt;*May you always have Love to Share, Health to Spare, and Friends that Care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE A GREAT and 'STRESS-FREE' DAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4368295167129926896?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4368295167129926896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4368295167129926896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4368295167129926896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4368295167129926896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/09/help-with-stress.html' title='Help with Stress'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8985809766986057635</id><published>2008-09-16T01:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T02:01:57.032-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Jokes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simpsons'/><title type='text'>I’m out of bed and dressed. What more do you want?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Homer Simpson's philosophy of life:&lt;br /&gt;"Son, when you participate in sporting events,&lt;br /&gt;it's not whether you win or lose: it's how drunk you get."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crime and Punishment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother finds an S&amp;amp;M magazine under her son’s bed while cleaning his room. Understandably disturbed, she immediately shows the magazine to her husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well?" his wife asks. "What do you think we should do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not sure," replies the father. "But we probably shouldn’t spank him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pope, a schoolboy and President Bush are in a plane. Suddenly the pilot suffers a heart attack and the craft takes a nosedive. As the engines sputter, the three passengers try to stay calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Well,' says the Pope, 'we have established that none of us can land this baby, so we're going to have to jump for it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'But there are only two parachutes,' says the boy, pointing to a pile of bundles by the exit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without hesitating, President Bush rushes over to them, takes one and shouts: 'I am the President of the United States of America. I am the world's most powerful leader. And apart from that, I am the most intelligent President in the history of my country. I have a responsibility to my people not to die.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, he leaps out of the plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the Pope turns calmly to the schoolboy and says: 'I am already old. I have already lived my life as a good person and a priest. There is a place for me in heaven. I insist you take the last parachute.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'No need,' says the boy, 'intelligent President Bush has taken my schoolbag...'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Man and His Animals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A man decides to start a farm. So he walks into town to buy some animals. At the farmers' market he first asks for a rooster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't call them roosters here," the clerk says snootily. "We call 'em cocks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the man buys one cock, then points at another animal and asks: "What do you call that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clerk replies: "That's a pullet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man agrees to buy one.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, he asks for a donkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clerk replies: "We don't call them donkeys,&lt;br /&gt;we call 'em asses, but we only have one left and he's very temperamental."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong with it," asks the man, who is determined that he must have a donkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Once in a while it will stop walking and&lt;br /&gt;it won't budge unless you scratch it behind the ears," says the clerk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man decides to buy it anyway,&lt;br /&gt;and pays for all the animals before starting his walk home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way, the donkey suddenly stops and doesn't move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the man has his arms full with the rooster and pullet,&lt;br /&gt; so has to stop a woman who is passing by to ask for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pardon me," he asks politely,&lt;br /&gt;"would you mind holding my cock and pullet, while I scratch my ass?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8985809766986057635?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8985809766986057635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8985809766986057635' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8985809766986057635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8985809766986057635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-out-of-bed-and-dressed-what-more-do.html' title='I’m out of bed and dressed. What more do you want?'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-8379095889833132961</id><published>2008-08-05T20:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T20:52:39.629-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='child safety'/><title type='text'>Please Do Not Forgot About Your Babies!!!</title><content type='html'>Already in 2008 there have been at least twenty-three deaths of infants and children after being left inside a hot vehicle. Last year there were a total of at least thirty-five such fatalities in the United States due to hyperthermia after they were left in hot cars, trucks, vans and SUV's. This sadly followed 42 and 30 child deaths in 2006 and 2005 respectively. Since 1998 there have been at least a total of 364 of these needless tragedies. This study shows that these incidents can occur on days with relatively mild (i.e., ~ 70 degrees F) temperatures and vehicles can occur reach life-threatening temperatures very rapidly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STATISTICS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total number of U.S. hyperthermia deaths of children left in cars, 2008:  23&lt;br /&gt;Total number of U.S. hyperthermia deaths of children left in cars, 2007:  35&lt;br /&gt;Total number of U.S. hyperthermia deaths of children left in cars, 1998-2008:  387&lt;br /&gt;Average number of U.S. child hyperthermia fatalities per year since 1998: 36&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LEGAL&lt;br /&gt;Only 14 states have &lt;a href="http://ggweather.com/heat/laws.htm"&gt;laws&lt;/a&gt; prohibiting leaving a child unattended in a vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;The remaining 36 states do not have laws specifically against leaving a child unattended in a vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently 9 states have proposed legislation that would make it a crime to leave a child unattended in a vehicle .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another 7 states have had previously proposed unattended child laws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Associated Press (AP) study "&lt;a href="http://ggweather.com/heat/ap_sentencing.htm"&gt;Wide disparity exists in sentences for leaving kids to die in hot cars&lt;/a&gt;" examined both the frequency of prosecutions and length of sentences in hyperthermia deaths-  Charges were files in 49% of all the deaths.  81% resulted in convictions.-  In cases with paid caregivers (i.e., childcare workers, babysitters) 84% were charged and 96% convicted-  Only 7% of the cases involved drugs or alcohol.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ggweather.com/heat/laws.htm"&gt;States with "Unattended Child" Laws&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://ggweather.com/heat/laws.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;click to enlarge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MEDICAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heatstroke occurs when a person's temperature exceeds 104 degrees F and their thermoregulatory mechanism is  overwhelmed -  Symptoms include :  dizziness, disorientation, agitation, confusion, sluggishness, seizure, hot dry skin that is flushed but not sweaty, loss of consciousness, rapid heart beat, hallucinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A core body temperature of 107 degrees F is considered lethal as cells are damaged and internal organs shut down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Children's thermoregulatory systems are not as efficient as an adult's and their bodies warm at a rate 3 to 5 times faster than an adult’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VEHICLE HEATING DYNAMICS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The atmosphere and windows are relatively “transparent” to the sun’s shortwave radiation (yellow in figure below) and are warmed little.  The shortwave energy does however warm objects that it strikes.  A dark dashboard or seat can easily reach temperatures in excess of 180 degrees F.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These objects (e.g., dashboard, steering wheel, childseat) heat the adjacent air by conduction and convection and also give off longwave radiation (red) which is very efficient at warming the air trapped inside a vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SAFETY RECOMMENDATIONS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;NEVER LEAVE A CHILD UNATTENDED IN A VEHICLE.  NOT EVEN FOR A MINUTE !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be sure that all occupants leave the vehicle when unloading. Don't overlook sleeping babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always lock your car and ensure children do not have access to keys or remote entry devices.  If a child is missing, check the car first, including the trunk. Teach your children that vehicles are never to be used as a play area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep a stuffed animal in the carseat and when the child is put in the seat place the animal in the front with the driver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or place your purse or briefcase in the back seat as a reminder that you have your child in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make "look before you leave" a routine whenever you get out of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a plan that your childcare provider will call you if your child does not show up for school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-8379095889833132961?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/8379095889833132961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=8379095889833132961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8379095889833132961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/8379095889833132961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/08/please-do-not-forgot-about-your-babies.html' title='Please Do Not Forgot About Your Babies!!!'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-2845810256037824082</id><published>2008-07-13T23:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T23:46:43.664-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BAR'/><title type='text'>BUSH In a BAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SHrXdziQ5yI/AAAAAAAAAZs/XBdTqvlmYCw/s1600-h/dumbfuck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222723624939611938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SHrXdziQ5yI/AAAAAAAAAZs/XBdTqvlmYCw/s200/dumbfuck.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President Bush decides to leave the White House and go out to sit in a local bar. A guy walks in and asks the barman, 'Isn't that Bush sitting at the end of the bar?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender says, 'Yep, that's him.' So the guy walks over and says, 'Wow, this is a real honor! What are you doing in here?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush says, 'I'm planning WW III.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy says, 'Really? What's going to happen?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush says, 'Well, I'm going to kill 140 million Muslims and one blonde with big 'Boobs'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy exclaimed, 'A blonde with big 'boobs'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i138.photobucket.com/albums/q256/FRANK753/BOOBS/5471-1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i138.photobucket.com/albums/q256/FRANK753/BOOBS/5471-1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why kill a blonde with big 'boobs'?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bush turns to the bartender and says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'See, I told you, nobody gives a shit about the 140 million Muslims'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-2845810256037824082?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/2845810256037824082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=2845810256037824082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/2845810256037824082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/2845810256037824082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/07/bush-in-bar.html' title='BUSH In a BAR'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SHrXdziQ5yI/AAAAAAAAAZs/XBdTqvlmYCw/s72-c/dumbfuck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6779095884911378729</id><published>2008-07-06T23:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T15:39:58.868-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Six Inches'/><title type='text'>Six Inches</title><content type='html'>Coming into the bar and ordering a double, the man leaned over and confided to the bartender, "I'm so pissed off !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah? What happened?" asked the bartender politely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, I met this beautiful woman who invited me back to her home. We stripped off our clothes and jumped into bed and we were just about to make love when her god damned husband came in the front door. So I had to jump out of the bedroom window and&lt;br /&gt;hang from the ledge by my fingernails!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gee, that's tough!" commiserated the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Right, but that's not what really got me aggravated," the customer went on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When her husband came into the room he said 'Hey great! You're&lt;br /&gt;naked already! Let me just take a leak.' And damned if the lazy&lt;br /&gt;son of a bitch didn't piss out the window right onto my head?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeech!" the bartender shook his head. "No wonder you're in a lousy mood."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but I haven't told you what really, really got to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I had to listen to them grunting and groaning and when they finished, the husband tossed his condom out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;And where does it land? My damned forehead!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Damn, that really is a drag!" says the bartender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I'm not finished. See what really pissed me off was when&lt;br /&gt;the husband had to take a dump. It turns out that their toilet is broken, so he stuck his ass out of the window and let loose right on my head !"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bartender paled. "That would sure mess up my day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the fellow rattled on, "but do you know what REALLY, REALLY, REALLY pissed me off? When I looked down and saw that my feet were only SIX inches off the ground!!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6779095884911378729?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6779095884911378729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6779095884911378729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6779095884911378729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6779095884911378729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/07/six-inches.html' title='Six Inches'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7895118656453643361</id><published>2008-07-06T22:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T23:01:23.627-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lollipop'/><title type='text'>The lollipop girl</title><content type='html'>The cops raided the local brothel and had all the girls standing in line waiting to enter the paddy wagon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little old lady walked up and asked one of the girls what the line was for. She indicated they were giving out lollipops. The little old lady liked lollipops so she got in line too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she got up to the paddy wagon door, a cop said, "Hey grandma, aren't you a little old to be doing this?" She replied, "As long as they keep making them, I'll keep sucking them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7895118656453643361?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7895118656453643361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7895118656453643361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7895118656453643361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7895118656453643361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/07/lollipop-girl.html' title='The lollipop girl'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4110560577584369961</id><published>2008-06-24T14:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T14:59:57.974-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pirate joke'/><title type='text'>The Pirate</title><content type='html'>A young sailor was sitting in a bar having a few drinks when he looks over and sees a pirate. The pirate has a wooden peg-leg, a hook for a hand, and patch over his eye. Unable to resist, the sailor asks “How’d you end up with a peg-leg?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I was swept overboard during a fierce storm,” says the pirate. “and a bloody shark bit off me whole darn leg!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Holy cow!” said the sailor. “What about the hook, how’d you get that?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Me crew and I were boarding an enemy ship, a fierce sword battle ensued. One of them cut me darn arm!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Absolutely incredible!” gasped the sailor. “And the eye patch, tell me how you got that?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A bloody seagull dropping fell into me eye,” replied the pirate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Umm, you lost your eye to a seagull dropping?” asked the sailor, admonished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Embarassed, the pirate answered “It was me first day with the hook.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4110560577584369961?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4110560577584369961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4110560577584369961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4110560577584369961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4110560577584369961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/06/pirate.html' title='The Pirate'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-3729406432190210824</id><published>2008-06-24T14:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T14:56:41.475-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bigger dick'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horse laughing'/><title type='text'>How to Make a Horse Laugh and Cry</title><content type='html'>A guy walks into a bar and offers $100 to anybody that will make his horse laugh. One guy whispers something into the horse's ear and the horse starts to laugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following week, the guy is back in the bar and offers $200 to anybody that will make his horse cry. The guy who won the $100 last week, takes the horse off to the bathroom. The horse returns from the bathroom crying his eyes out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazed the horse owner asked the guy how he did it? The guy says: "The first week, I told the horse I have a bigger dick than him and today I showed it to him!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-3729406432190210824?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/3729406432190210824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=3729406432190210824' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3729406432190210824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/3729406432190210824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/06/how-to-make-horse-laugh-and-cry.html' title='How to Make a Horse Laugh and Cry'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-405742647906893629</id><published>2008-06-08T01:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T01:12:07.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wet pussy'/><title type='text'>The Fly</title><content type='html'>There was a fly looking at some food in a river. The fly thought, "If I go down, I can get the food!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a fish looking at the fly. The fish thought, "If the fly goes down to get the food, I can get the fly!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a bear looking at the fish. The bear thought, "If the fly goes down to get the food, and that fish comes up to get the fly, I can get the fish!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a man looking at the bear. The man thought, "If the fly goes down to get the food, the fish comes up to get the fly, and the bear gets the fish, I can shoot the bear!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a mouse looking at the man. The mouse thought, "If the fly goes down to get the food, the fish comes up to get the fly, the bear gets the fish, and the man shoots the bear, I can get the man's sandwich!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a cat looking at the mouse. The cat thought, "If the fly goes down to get the food, the fish comes up to get the fly, the bear gets the fish, the man shoots the bear, and the mouse gets the sandwich, I can get the mouse!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the fly goes down to get the food. The fish comes up and gets the fly. The bear swipes his mighty paw and gets the fish. The man shoots the bear. The mouse runs for the man's sandwich. The cat lunges for the mouse, misses, and falls in the river. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the moral of the story? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the fly goes down, the pussy gets wet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-405742647906893629?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/405742647906893629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=405742647906893629' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/405742647906893629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/405742647906893629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/06/fly.html' title='The Fly'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5119831409144429783</id><published>2008-05-31T16:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T16:57:16.604-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thoughts'/><title type='text'>SEE THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THINGS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am God. Today I will be handling all of your problems. Please remember that I do not need your help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If life happens to deliver a situation to you that you cannot handle, do&lt;br /&gt;not attempt to resolve it. Kindly put it in the SFGTD (something for God to do) box. All situations will be resolved, but in My time, not yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the matter is placed into the box, do not hold onto it by worrying about it. Instead, focus on all the wonderful things that are present in your life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find yourself stuck in traffic; Don't despair. There are people in&lt;br /&gt;this world for whom driving is an unheard of privilege.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you have a bad day at work; Think of the man who has been out of work for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you despair over a relationship gone bad; Think of the person who has never known what it's like to love and be loved in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you grieve the passing of another weekend; Think of the woman in dire straits, working twelve hours a day, seven days a week to feed her children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should your car break down, leaving you miles away from assistance; Think of the paraplegic who would love the opportunity to take that walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror; Think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she had hair to examine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering what is life all about, asking what is my purpose? Be thankful. There are those who didn't live long enough to get the opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you find yourself the victim of other people's bitterness,&lt;br /&gt;ignorance, smallness or insecurities; Remember, things could be worse. You could be one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should you decide to send this to a friend; Thank you, you may have touched their life in ways you will never know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5119831409144429783?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5119831409144429783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5119831409144429783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5119831409144429783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5119831409144429783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/05/see-bright-side-of-things.html' title='SEE THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THINGS'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4005083398933663294</id><published>2008-05-20T02:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T02:42:37.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke of the Day</title><content type='html'>There once was a farmer who was raising 3 daughters on his own. He was very concerned about their well being and always did his best to watch out for them. As they entered their late teens the girls dated, and on this particular evening all three of his girls were going out on a date. This was the first time this had occurred. As was his custom, he would greet the young suitor at the door holding his shotgun, not to menace or threaten but merely to ensure that the young man knew who was boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doorbell rang and the first of the boys arrived. Father answered the door and the lad said, “Hi, my name’s Joe, I’m here for Flo. We’re going to the show, is she ready to go?” The father looked him over and sent the kids on their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next lad arrived and said, “My name’s Eddie, I’m here for Betty, we’re gonna get some spaghetti, is she ready?” Father felt this one was okay too, so off the two kids went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final young man arrived and the farmer opened the door. The boy started off, “Hi, my name’s Chuck… –” and the farmer shot him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4005083398933663294?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4005083398933663294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4005083398933663294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4005083398933663294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4005083398933663294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/05/joke-of-day.html' title='Joke of the Day'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1992871278710946199</id><published>2008-05-02T23:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T23:29:50.361-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another man's picture</title><content type='html'>After a long night of making love, the guy notices a photo of another man on the woman's nightstand by the bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He begins to worry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this your husband?" He nervously asks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, silly, "She replies, snuggling up to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your boyfriend, then?" He continues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, not at all," She says, nibbling away at his ear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is it your dad or your brother?" He inquires, hoping to be reassured. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no, no! You are so hot when you're jealous!" She answers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, who in the heck is he, then?" He demands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She whispers in his ear "That's me before the surgery."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1992871278710946199?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1992871278710946199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1992871278710946199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1992871278710946199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1992871278710946199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-mans-picture.html' title='Another man&apos;s picture'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-1149199039205264318</id><published>2008-05-02T23:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T23:28:36.699-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You My Son?</title><content type='html'>An old man was sitting at the bar, when a young man came in with a mowhawk haircut dyed different colors. He sat down next to the old man and noticed that the old man was staring at him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the young man asks the man "What the hell are you staring at! Didn't you ever do anything crazy when you were a kid?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man pondered for a moment and replied "Yeah, I screwed a peacock and I was wondering if you were my son."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-1149199039205264318?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/1149199039205264318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=1149199039205264318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1149199039205264318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/1149199039205264318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/05/are-you-my-son.html' title='Are You My Son?'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6116324904649146539</id><published>2008-04-25T22:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T22:16:54.444-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Mary'/><title type='text'>Little Mary</title><content type='html'>Little Mary was not the best student in Sunday School. Usually she slept through the class. One day the teacher called on her while she was napping, ”Tell me, Mary, who created the universe?” When Mary didn’t stir, little Johnny, an altruistic boy seated in the chair behind her, took a pin and jabbed her in the rear. ”God Almighty !” shouted Mary and the teacher said, ”Very good” and Mary fell back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while later the teacher asked Mary, ”Who is our Lord and Savior?” But Mary didn’t even stir from her slumber. Once again, Johnny came to the rescue and stuck her again. ”Jesus Christ!” shouted Mary and the teacher said, ”Very good,” and Mary fell back to sleep. Then the teacher asked Mary a third question, ”What did Eve say to Adam after she had her twenty-third child?” And again, Johnny jabbed her with the pin. This time Mary jumped up and shouted, ”If you stick that damn thing in me one more time, I’ll break it in half!” The Teacher fainted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6116324904649146539?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6116324904649146539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6116324904649146539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6116324904649146539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6116324904649146539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/little-mary.html' title='Little Mary'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6898995880474078972</id><published>2008-04-20T15:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T19:34:06.343-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Searching for Happiness'/><title type='text'>Searching for Happiness</title><content type='html'>Raindrops on roses, children’s wet kisses.&lt;br /&gt;These are some of the things my mind misses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freshly cut grass in the summer&lt;br /&gt;and bright red blooming flowers&lt;br /&gt;Are just some of the things I enjoy,&lt;br /&gt;along with spring showers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowflakes that fall in the winter, a long spring drive.&lt;br /&gt;These are some of the things that make me feel alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby puppies breath and tan colored walls.&lt;br /&gt;Children dressed up nice and kids playing with balls.&lt;br /&gt;A bright full moon late at night&lt;br /&gt;Are some of the things that help me see the light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long swim at the lake, fishing from the shore&lt;br /&gt;These are some of the things I adore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I feel all hope is lost&lt;br /&gt;And I want to feel better at any cost&lt;br /&gt;I just think about all these things,&lt;br /&gt;And the happiness it brings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6898995880474078972?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6898995880474078972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6898995880474078972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6898995880474078972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6898995880474078972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/searching-for-happiness.html' title='Searching for Happiness'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-6733148233728712310</id><published>2008-04-19T02:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T02:57:43.124-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reduce stress'/><title type='text'>Stress Reducing Ideas</title><content type='html'>Relax your standards. The world will not end if the grass doesn't get moved this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unplug your phone. Want to take a long bath, meditate, sleep, or read without interruption? Drum up the courage to temporarily disconnect. (The possibility of there being a terrible emergency in the next hour or so is almost nil).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When feeling stressed, most people tend to breathe in short, shallow breaths. When you breathe like this, stale air is not expelled, oxidation of the tissues is incomplete, and muscle tension frequently results. Check your breathing throughout the day, and before, during, and after high-pressure situations. If you find your stomach muscles are knotted and your breathing is shallow, relax all your muscles and take several deep, slow breaths. Note how, when you're relaxed, both your abdomen and chest expand when you breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing your thoughts and feelings down (in a journal, or on paper to be thrown away) can help you clarify things and can give you a renewed perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday, do something you really enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-6733148233728712310?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/6733148233728712310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=6733148233728712310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6733148233728712310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/6733148233728712310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/stress-reducing-ideas.html' title='Stress Reducing Ideas'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5386827081488571536</id><published>2008-04-18T03:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T02:59:03.848-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='things to do before I die'/><title type='text'>Some things I always wanted to do...</title><content type='html'>Fill a bottle with water from the Atlantic Ocean and empty it into the Pacific Ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go on a road trip to nowhere...just drive until I run out of gas, fill back up and come back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be able to change someone else’s life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get a tattoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learn how to better control my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Publish my story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go around dropping $100 dollar bills in random places just so strangers will find the money and feel lucky for at least one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find the message I put in a bottle 25 years ago, and post it on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lose weight and start weight lifting again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sign up for some college classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get a new hair style...or at least cut what I’ve got shorter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5386827081488571536?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5386827081488571536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5386827081488571536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5386827081488571536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5386827081488571536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/some-things-i-always-wanted-to-do.html' title='Some things I always wanted to do...'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-2070008859702308663</id><published>2008-04-13T23:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T23:47:09.751-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why we live to be 80'/><title type='text'>Why we live to be 80</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SALhtkl-hwI/AAAAAAAAAQI/ywERQt8fWiw/s1600-h/teddybear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188957893717559042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SALhtkl-hwI/AAAAAAAAAQI/ywERQt8fWiw/s200/teddybear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Way it Started &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SALhikl-hvI/AAAAAAAAAQA/rWEFSK-YJLo/s1600-h/teddybear.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the first day, God created the dog and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dog said: 'That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second day, God created the monkey and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third day, God created the cow and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty&lt;br /&gt;years.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cow said: 'That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And God agreed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the fourth day, God created man and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I'll give you twenty years.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But man said: 'Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten&lt;br /&gt;the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has now been explained to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no need to thank me for this valuable information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188957528645338850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SALhYUl-huI/AAAAAAAAAP4/rRv8godmbuI/s200/old-people.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-2070008859702308663?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/2070008859702308663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=2070008859702308663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/2070008859702308663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/2070008859702308663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/why-we-live-to-be-80.html' title='Why we live to be 80'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SALhtkl-hwI/AAAAAAAAAQI/ywERQt8fWiw/s72-c/teddybear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5581964632739916592</id><published>2008-04-12T01:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T23:40:22.258-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stress'/><title type='text'>I'm a little stressed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I posted this on one of my other sites a couple years ago...but I still think its funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am not sure exactly how it works, but this is amazingly accurate. Read the full description before looking at the picture. The picture below has 2 identical dolphins in it. It was used in a case study on stress levels at St. Mary's Hospital. Look at both dolphins jumping out of the water. The dolphins are identical. A closely monitored, scientific study revealed that, in spite of the fact that the dolphins are identical; a person under stress would find differences in the two dolphins. The more differences a person finds between the dolphins, the more stress that person is experiencing. Look at the photograph and if you find more than one or two differences you may want to take a vacation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188237391489486386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SABSa0ohTjI/AAAAAAAAAPw/VlRYj6tZi5Q/s320/ATT11.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No Need to Reply,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll be on Vacation &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Never take life seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nobody gets out alive anyway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5581964632739916592?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5581964632739916592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5581964632739916592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5581964632739916592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5581964632739916592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-little-stressed.html' title='I&apos;m a little stressed'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/SABSa0ohTjI/AAAAAAAAAPw/VlRYj6tZi5Q/s72-c/ATT11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-5447811158220473727</id><published>2008-04-10T22:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T00:51:11.485-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my boys'/><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/R_7jMkohTbI/AAAAAAAAAOs/TWh2TKJft9c/s1600-h/pics+of+the+boys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187833625908956594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/R_7jMkohTbI/AAAAAAAAAOs/TWh2TKJft9c/s320/pics+of+the+boys.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm moist breath floats across my cheek. The smell of sugar hits my senses, forcing my weary eyelids to rise slowly. Two wide, mischievous brown eyes stare down at me from four inches above my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good. You're awake," my youngest son pronounces in a voice at least ten decibels louder than I would ever care to hear this early in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't help that his mouth is just inches from my ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Andrew," I mutter thickly, "I smell sugar. Have you been in the sugar?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope, I made you a surprise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words "I made" cause my heart to beat a bit faster. I'm just waking, and Andrew had no supervision while he "made" whatever it is he made. I assess the possibilities. Did it involve a glue gun? paint? A chainsaw?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oops!" Andrew says. Two soft, round orbs bounce off my head and onto the pillow. "I'm spilling your surprise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn my head and stare at the two marshmallows on my bed. "You made me something with marshmallows?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aren't you exited?" He lowers the plate I hadn't noticed him holding high above my head. It's big, heavy and stoneware--and I am suddenly thankful to be hit by marshmallows and not the plate itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's breakfast in bed!" He plops the plate onto my unprepared stomach, spilling another marshmallow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit up slowly and survey the feast. "Oh, Andrew you shouldn't have!" I mean it more than he could ever know. There they are--all his favorites, sitting right on my plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A handful of chocolate chips next to a handful of jellybeans. Two tootsie rolls. A graham cracker with a dollop of whipped cream (artfully done, I must add). Six sugar cubes, and of course, the marshmallows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oops! I forgot your coffee! I'll be right back." He scampers out of the room, leaving me to ponder his gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first realization I have is that we need a lock for the baking cupboard. The second--and more sobering--thought is that I have to eat some of this stuff or Andrew will be disappointed. I weigh my options as I hear footsteps returning. I quickly scoop up the jellybeans and deposit them in my pillowcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here you go!" He sets a mug on my nightstand and watches proudly as I pick it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh...morning coffee, I think naively. Maybe I can get through this. And then I take the first sip. Ahh...yesterday's coffee, I correct, shuddering from the impact of ice cold liquid slithering down my throat. Of course, it's from yesterday. What had I been thinking? Andrew doesn't know how to make coffee yet. I make a mental note to teach him how, right after . . . breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rounds the bed and hops onto the other side. The waterbed does a roll, and I precariously balance the coffee and the heavy plate. He's going to watch me take every last sip and nibble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to find a way to get him out of the room. "Uh, aren't you going to have some?" I ask hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Already ate. It's good, isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, . . . yes, Andrew. But you know, it's really the thought that counts, don't you think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's that mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It means that . . . well, the best part of this breakfast is the fact that you took the time to make it, and . . . it's not the eating part that's so special, it's the . . . uh . . .the . . ."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, what's this?" A few renegade jellybeans roll out of the pillowcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How'd those get there? I ask lamely. "Must have slipped off my plate somehow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll get 'em for you, Mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he does. Every last one. As he settles in to enjoy my predicament, I begin the task. I take a bite. I "ooh" and "ahh." I fight the revulsion. And try hard not to laugh at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am touched at this thoughtfulness, but I am also surprised. Hasn't my darling son been watching me every morning of his four years? Doesn't he know me better than this? Mornings for me consist of coffee, and maybe more coffee, but almost never food, well maybe some home made cookies, upon occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I know I have a full day ahead. First off, I have to teach Andrew how to make coffee. I need to go to the post office, and then shopping. I have recycling to drop off. I want to get at least a bit of exercise in there somewhere. Then my other son will be out of school. Oh, and a quiet time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm . . . I review my list and all the "I needs" and "I want" pop out at me. My quiet time nearly suffocated under all the other "have to's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I began to argue, these aren't frivolous things. It's good that Andrew learns new skills, and . . . and the bills need to get to the post office, and the house does need to be looked after . . . and . . . I need to recycle to help save the planet…right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Mom--how come you're not eating?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had nearly forgotten my little breakfast warden. "You know, honey, I'm getting so full. How 'bout if we save some of this till later?" He, he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, okay." He scoops up my plate. "Want the rest of your coffee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no!" I respond a bit too forcefully. "You can take that, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He starts for the door. "Are you glad I made you breakfast in bed, Mom?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Andrew, I'm gladder than you could know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I was going to make you new coffee, but I didn't know how."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's okay, Andrew, 'cause you know--it's really the thought that counts. But I was thinking, maybe we can do something about that. How about if later today I teach you how to use the coffee maker?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah!" He's excited. "But let's do it right now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Later, honey. I promise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happened eleven years ago. The memory is still there, as if it just happened yesterday. I can hardly believe how much my little boy has grown, he turns 15 this Saturday. In a way I wish maybe I should have never taught him how to make that coffee. Andrew and his older brother now drink it more often than I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-5447811158220473727?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/5447811158220473727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=5447811158220473727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5447811158220473727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/5447811158220473727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/memories.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/R_7jMkohTbI/AAAAAAAAAOs/TWh2TKJft9c/s72-c/pics+of+the+boys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-158297467030180856</id><published>2008-04-09T02:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T02:03:29.106-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drunk joke'/><title type='text'>Thankful he's drunk</title><content type='html'>The drunken wino was stumbling down the street with one foot on the curb and one foot in the gutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cop pulled up and said, "I've got to take you in, sir. You're obviously drunk"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wasted wino asked, "Ociffer, are ya absolutely sure I'm drunk?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, buddy, I'm sure," said the copper. "Let's go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously relieved, the wino said "That's a relief - I thought I was a cripple."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-158297467030180856?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/158297467030180856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=158297467030180856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/158297467030180856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/158297467030180856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/thankful-hes-drunk.html' title='Thankful he&apos;s drunk'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-4292832205362531996</id><published>2008-04-09T00:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T00:56:22.494-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Rose Within'/><title type='text'>The Rose Within</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/R_xaaoAeMQI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/EYgBoTrzxOA/s1600-h/redrose.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187120284286464258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/R_xaaoAeMQI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/EYgBoTrzxOA/s320/redrose.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully and before it blossomed, he examined it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He saw the bud that would soon blossom, but noticed thorns upon the stem and he thought, "How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many sharp thorns? Saddened by this thought, he neglected to water the rose, and just before it was ready to bloom... it died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it is with many people. Within every soul there is a rose. The God-like qualities planted in us at birth, grow amid the thorns of our faults. Many of us look at ourselves and see only the thorns, the defects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We despair, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from us. We neglect to water the good within us, and eventually it dies. We never realize our potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people do not see the rose within themselves; someone else must show it to them. One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the thorns of another, and find the rose within them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-4292832205362531996?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/4292832205362531996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=4292832205362531996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4292832205362531996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/4292832205362531996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/rose-within.html' title='The Rose Within'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/R_xaaoAeMQI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/EYgBoTrzxOA/s72-c/redrose.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7947157853798907898</id><published>2008-04-06T20:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T20:47:16.857-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laughing Baby'/><title type='text'>Laughing Baby</title><content type='html'>Turn your speakers on!&lt;br /&gt;Move you mouse back and forth&lt;br /&gt;OR up and down OR in circles&lt;br /&gt;OR anyway you want to move it.&lt;br /&gt;This is guaranteed to relieve all your stress.&lt;br /&gt;Move your mouse across the page when you open this program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://joe-ks.com/archives_may2005/Elastic_Baby.htm" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003333;"&gt;Click here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://joe-ks.com/archives_may2005/Elastic_Baby.htm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7947157853798907898?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7947157853798907898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7947157853798907898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7947157853798907898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7947157853798907898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/laughing-baby.html' title='Laughing Baby'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5618767248588666276.post-7840517798706811433</id><published>2008-04-06T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T20:43:23.636-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laughter quotes'/><title type='text'>Laughter Quotes</title><content type='html'>We cannot really love anybody with whom we never laugh.--Agnes Repplier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter.--Mark Twain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more you find out about the world, the more opportunities there are to laugh at it.--Bill Nye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter is by definition healthy.--Doris Lessing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laugh at yourself first, before anyone else can.--Elsa Maxwell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you're old.--Edgar Watson Howe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on.--Bob Newhart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cannot be mad at somebody who makes you laugh - it's as simple as that.--Jay Leno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane.--Jimmy Buffett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was irrevocably betrothed to laughter, the sound of which has always seemed to me to be the most civilized music in the world.--Peter Ustinov&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man is distinguished from all other creatures by the faculty of laughter.--Joseph Addison&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One doesn't have a sense of humor. It has you.--Larry Gelbart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine.--Lord Byron&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He deserves Paradise who makes his companions laugh.--Koran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.--John Masefield&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He who laughs, lasts!--Mary Pettibone Poole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't stop laughing because you grow old. You grow old because you stop laughing.--Michael Pritchard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter is the closest distance between two people.--Victor Borge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter is inner jogging.--Norman Cousins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't deny laughter; when it comes, it plops down in your favorite chair and stays as long as it wants.--Stephen King&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beware of too much laughter, for it deadens the mind and produces oblivion.--The Talmud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.--W. H. Auden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.--e e cummings&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5618767248588666276-7840517798706811433?l=grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/feeds/7840517798706811433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5618767248588666276&amp;postID=7840517798706811433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7840517798706811433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5618767248588666276/posts/default/7840517798706811433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://grabmyteddybear.blogspot.com/2008/04/laughter-quotes.html' title='Laughter Quotes'/><author><name>MsPsycho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06117421246377012616</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evt9nG3StJM/Sz2NZqXWnkI/AAAAAAAACVc/Qx7YiK294UU/S220/MsPsychoKnife.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
