No, not the wonderful poem with the line “Tyger, Tyger Burning Bright” (if I remember correctly the poem was by Blake–someone please correct me if I am wrong as I am too lazy and tired to look it up), but our own Tiger who has gotten out of his cage. I don’t think that it would matter quite so much if he had not projected the picture of morality and respectful son and husband for so long. He was a hero and an example to kids especially minority kids who could dream of playing golf and being accepted in a game long dominated by whites in country club settings where African Americans were not always welcome. Tiger broke down barriers and was helping to make golf accessible to all. I thought he had real character, but I was so wrong.  I believe that more than many other athletes and celebrities and their bad boy antics, he had the responsibility to lead by example just as our President, also breaking the race barrier, seems to be doing.  Maybe I held Tiger in too much esteem as I began to watch golf on television because of him; I followed his career, watched him play, and admired him for the work he was doing for our youth by founding centers to help teach those not successful in school.  I am very, very disappointed that he has now joined the ranks of our “bad boy” athletes and celebrities who do not pay attention to whom they hurt when they cross the line of behaving correctly; his behavior may not stop his career or change the attitude of those who wish to ignore his morality and separate it totally from his sports career, but there are many of us who are very saddened by the fact that one more respected athlete or celebrity has joined the ranks of  those who feel that they are entitled to do whatever the hell they want without any regard for the chances they had to be sterling examples of public figures, who despite all the temptations of fame and money, choose to live their lives above reproach. I really do not wish to judge; but his apparent lack of character speaks for itself. I do not know who wrote the following; I just wish it had been me:

 Twas the night of Thanksgiving and out of the house
    Tiger Woods came a flyin’, chased by his spouse..
    She wielded a nine iron and wasn’t too merry,
    Cause a bimbo’s phone number was in his Blackberry.
    He’d been cheatin’ on Elin, and the story progressed.
    Woman after woman stepped up and confessed.
    He’d been cheatin’ with Holly, and Jaimee, and Cori,
    With Joselyn, and Kalika. The world had the story.
    From the top of the Tour to the basement of blues,

Tiger’s sad sordid tale was all over the news.
    With hostesses, waitresses, he had lots of sex,
    When not in their pants, he was sendin’ them texts.
    And I heard her exclaim from her white Escalade,
    “If you’re gettin’ laid then I’m gettin’ paid.”
    Despite all his cryin’ and beggin’ and pleadin’,
    Tiger’s wife went investin’ — a new home in Sweden.   
    She’s not pouting, in fact, she is of jolly good cheer,
    Her pre nup made Christmas come early this year.

 

News Flash:

A passenger plane from Dallas to Columbus, Ohio, was delayed one and one half hours getting in (whether landing or unloading is not clear) because a whole bunch of those lovable, frolicking, quick moving otters (usually found in water not cargo holds) evidently got loose in the cargo hold of the plane.  Now how does one catch scampering, hide ‘n’ go seeking otters among suitcases, boxes, and other cargo. Why were they on the plane and where were they headed, up north for the winter perhaps?  Stay tuned until this mystery unravels hopefully on the morning news!

Recently, in large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. 

It read:
THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?

A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:

Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans). They have an active sex life; they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp.  They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Barren Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia. Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs.  They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans.  They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don’t exist.  If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis.  Fish or human?  They don’t have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them not to mention how could they have sex?  Therefore they don’t have kids either. 

Not to mention who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.

P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a piece of chocolate with my friends.  With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies.  So we aren’t heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy. 

Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think, “Good gosh, look how smart I am.”

Now, I, Meredith, must be one of the smartest women in the world!  until next time. Just wait to see how much smarter I am even after this Christmas! Until next time . . .

 

Our politics are so screwed up; we seem to have lost what we once stood for in our country.  Just read the following for a chuckle and maybe a story just too close to the truth:

 

Curtis &Leroy saw an ad in the Starkville Daily News Newspaper in Starkville, MS. and bought a mule for $100.  The farmer agreed to deliver the mule the next day.

The next morning the farmer drove up and said, “Sorry, fellows, I have some bad news, the mule died last night.”

Curtis & Leroy replied, “Well, then just give us our money back.”

The farmer said, “Can’t do that. I went and spent it already.”

They said, “OK then, just bring us the dead mule.”

The farmer asked, “What in the world ya’ll gonna do with a dead mule?”

Curtis said, “We gonna raffle him off.”

The farmer said, “You can’t raffle off a dead mule!”

Leroy said, “We shore can!  Heck, we don’t hafta tell nobody he’s dead!”

A couple of weeks later, the farmer ran into Curtis &Leroy at the Piggly Wiggly  grocery store and asked.
“What’d you fellers ever do with that dead mule?”
They said,”We raffled him off like we said we wuz gonna do.”

Leroy said,”Shucks, we sold 500 tickets fer two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898.”

The farmer said,”My Lord, didn’t anyone complain?”

Curtis said, “Well, the feller who won got upset. So we gave him his two dollars back.”

Curtis and Leroy now work for the government.

They’re overseeing the Bailout Program.

Limit all US politicians to two terms.
One in office
One in prison
Illinois already does this!

 

 I CERTAINLY HOPE THIS DOES NOT OFFEND ANYONE: IT MAY NOT BE POLITICALLY CORRECT, BUT I THINK IT’S FUNNY

Wait until Al sees our new door knocker! 

Where can I order one of these!

 

What can I say??? 

 

  

House Minority Leader  Lawrence F. Cafero Jr., R-Norwalk, pictured standing, far  right, speaks while colleagues Rep. Barbara Lambert,  D-Milford and Rep. Jack F. Hennessy, D-Bridgeport, play solitaire Monday night as the House convened to vote on a  new budget. (AP)

The guy sitting in the row in front of these two…  he’s on Facebook, and the guy behind Hennessy is checking out the baseball scores.

These are the folks that couldn’t get the budget out by Oct. 1,  Seriously, we’ve got a 30 day budget extension.  Well, guess what, 30 days from now we will be in the same boat.  I guess this makes it easy for the news ‘reporters’ as all they have to do is recycle the same headlines from this week and from 2 years ago.  And these yo-yo’s will still be playing SOLITAIRE!!!

 

 

From my friend Mona:

It is hard to understand how and why the Northwest Airlines pilots got so distracted on their recent attempt to fly directly to Minneapolis/St Paul, especially after a long and restful layover in San Diego

 
The Airbus cockpit is a very sophisticated complicated piece of technology. There is more than enough going on to keep pilots quite busy throughout their flight. As the attached photo shows, is difficult to understand the reason for their inattention!

 My good friend Roxy Hayes sent me this gem:

 

Do not leave alcohol near your pumpkins:

 

Only In Ireland:

As the plain approached Dublin number 1 runway, the tower heard from the cockpit:

PILOT – Bejeesus will ya look how bloody shart dat runway is?

CO-PILOT – Yer nat bloody kiddin, Paddy

PILOT – Dis is ganna be one a de trickiest landings ever, Shamus!
CO-PILOT – Yer nat bloody kiddin, Paddy !!

PILOT – Right, Shamus, when I say ‘go’ put de engine in reverse!!
CO-PILOT – Royt, I’ll do dat !!

PILOT – An den ya put de flaps down!!

CO-PILOT – Royt, I’ll do dat, too !!

PILOT – An den stamp an de brakes as hard as yer can an pray ta de
Holy Mudder a Gad !!!

CO-PILOT – I’m prayin already, but I’ll hit de brakes as hard as I can.

So, as the wheels hit the ground, Shamus put the engines in reverse,
puts the flaps down, stamped on the brakes and continued to pray to the Holy Mother with all his soul. The brakes screeched, the tyres squealed,and there was smoke everywhere, but, to the relief of all the passengers, and, not least of all, Paddy and Shamus, the aircraft came to a stop a few meters from the end of the runway!!!

As Paddy and Shamus sat in the cockpit regaining some composure,

Paddy looked out of the window and said to Shamus, “Dat has gat ta be de shartist bloody runway in de world!”

Shamus replied, “Yes, but da ya see how bloody  wide it is?

Always Irish of course:

Muldoon lived alone in the Irish countryside with only a pet dog for company. One day the dog died, and Muldoon went to the parish priest and asked, “Father, my dog is dead. Could ye’ be saying’ a Mass for the poor creature?”

Father Patrick replied, ‘I’m afraid not; we cannot have services for an animal in the church. But there are some Baptists down the lane, and there’s no tellin’ what they believe. Maybe they’ll do something for the poor creature.”

Muldoon said, ‘I’ll go right away Father. Do ye think$5,000 is enough to donate to them for the service?”

Father Patrick exclaimed, “Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus!
Why didn’t ye tell me the dog was Catholic?”