Always wear clean underwear in public, especially when working under your vehicle.

This story is from the Northwest Florida Daily News.

A Crestview couple who drove their car to Wal Mart only to have their car break down in the parking lot.

The man told his wife to carry on with the shopping while he fixed the car in the lot.

The wife returned later to see a small group of people near the car.

On closer inspection, she saw pair a of male legs protruding from under the chassis.

Although the man was in shorts, his lack of underpants turned private parts into glaringly public ones.

Unable to stand the embarrassment,she dutifully stepped forward, quickly put her hand UP his shorts, and tucked everything back into place.

On regaining her feet, she looked across the hood and found herself staring at her husband who was standing idly by.

The mechanic, however, had to have three stitches in his forehead.

This is a *tehe...sorry* to the men, especially Human Bean...this is ladies week for jokes!

Three newly-wed men were sitting together in a bar, bragging about how they had given their new wives duties.

The first man had married a woman from Pennsylvania, and he bragged that he had told his wife she was going to do all the dishes and house cleaning that needed done at their house. He said that it took a couple of days, but on the third day he came home to a clean house and the dishes were all washed and put away.

The second man had married a woman from Indiana. He bragged that he had given his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes, and the cooking. He told them that the first day he didn't see any results, but the next day it was better. By the third day, his house was clean, the dishes were done, and he had a huge dinner on the table.

The third man had married a girl from South Carolina. He boasted that he told her that her duties were to keep the house cleaned, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry washed and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn't see anything, the second day he didn't see anything, but by the third day most of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye, enough to fix himself a bite to eat, load the dishwasher, and telephone a landscaper.

On November 8, Comes a Horseman broke into the Top 100 Thrillers on Amazon.com, nestled among novels by David Baldacci, Lee Child, and Dean Koontz.

Robert Liparulo does a masterful job of creating a fast-paced, page-turner as he weaves an intense plot.

FBI agents Brady Moore and Criminal Psychologist Alicia Wager are accustomed to grisly crimes like the so-called Pelletier Killings. Gruesome murders without patterns are occurring all over the United States. Brady and Alice follow the killer's trail, but are unable to decode the ritualistic clues left behind after each slaughter.

Brady and Alice stumble onto an obscure lead that exposes an age-old conspiracy extending from the US to the Vatican to Jerusalem to Canada's Northwest Territories. When these ancient prophecies link the victims, the wrath of the killers turns on them. Reeling from a series of attempts on their lives, they follow a scant trail of evidence that leads them to Luco Scaramuzzi, the charismatic Italian ambassador to Israel-a man of near limitless power and incalculable wealth. A devoted network of followers fulfill his every desire and await the day that his power will be unleashed on an unsuspecting world.

Eventually, Brady and Alicia learn the secret that can bring him down. If only Brady can act before his own anger and confusion burn him up. If only Alicia can accept a truth that contradicts her strongest belief. Their ensuing battle for survival and truth keeps us guessing until the very last page.

In other NEWS: The movie rights to Robert Liparulo's upcoming novel Comes a Horseman have been optioned to Mace Neufeld, a producer with an extraordinary record of turning novels into hit movies. Neufeld orchestrated such blockbuster book-to-film adaptations as Tom Clancy's The Sum of All Fears, Clear and Present Danger, Patriot Games, and Hunt for Red October; Nelson DeMille's The General's Daughter; Clive Cussler's Sahara; and Stephen Coonts' Flight of the Intruder.

So look for it as the next blockbuster movie!

THIS IS A TRUE FEMALE JOKE THAT WOMEN LOVE....
AND MEN WILL PASS IT ALONG TO A WOMAN WHO WILL LOVE IT:

A WOMAN WAS SITTING IN A BAR ENJOYING AN AFTER WORK COCKTAIL WITH HER GIRLFRIENDS WHEN AN EXCEPTIONALLY TALL, HANDSOME, EXTREMELY SEXY MIDDLE-AGED MAN ENTERED. HE WAS SO STRIKING THAT THE WOMAN COULD NOT TAKE HER EYES OFF HIM.....

THE YOUNG-AT-HEART MAN NOTICED HER OVERLY ATTENTIVE STARE AND WALKED DIRECTLY TOWARD HER. (AS MOST MEN WILL DO).

BEFORE SHE COULD OFFER HER APOLOGIES FOR SO RUDELY STARING, HE LEANED OVER & WHISPERED TO HER: "I'LL DO ANYTHING, ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING, THAT YOU WANT ME TO DO, NO MATTER HOW KINKY, FOR ONLY $20.... ON ONE CONDITION." (THERE WAS ALWAYS CONDITIONS).

FLABBERGASTED, THE WOMAN ASKED WHAT THE CONDITION WAS. THE MAN REPLIED: "YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO IN JUST THREE WORDS". (Controlling, huh?)

THE WOMAN CONSIDERED HIS PROPOSITION FOR A MOMENT, THEN SLOWLY REMOVED A $20 BILL FROM HER PURSE, WHICH SHE PRESSED INTO THE MAN'S HAND....ALONG WITH HER ADDRESS.

SHE THEN LOOKED DEEPLY INTO HIS EYES....

AND SLOWLY, AND MEANINGFULLY, SAID..........

"CLEAN MY HOUSE"

I completed a 50,028 word first draft of my 3rd novel, NanoTech Virus! The NaNoWriMo challenge is completed for me.

Now on to the next phase. Rewrite, rewrite, and more rewrite. I figure that I need to flesh it out to about 85,000 to 87,000 words, but at least now I can take a...hmmm...bathroom break!

My friend Dennie was in a silly mood today, so she convinced me that I should be too! It sure fits with the post below....and it is just random...try it out!

Your Outrageous Name is:

Ivana P. Now

This is a little long, but read it while the turkey is roasting.

All methods have tricked me with their promises of easy, painless
removal the Epilady, the standard razor, the scissors, the Nair, the
EpilStop, and now . . The Wax.

My night began as any other normal weekday night. I came home from work,
fixed dinner for my son and we played for a while. I then had the
thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next couple hours:
maybe I should use that wax in my medicine cabinet.
I set up my boy with a video and head to the site of my demise, um, I
mean bathroom.

It was one of those cold wax kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you
just rub the clear strips in your hand, peel them apart, press it on
your leg (or wherever) and ignore the frantically rising crescendo of string
instruments in the background. No muss, no fuss. How hard can this be?

I mean, I'm not the girly-est of girls but I'm mechanically inclined so
maybe I can figure out how this works. You'd think.

So I pull one of the thin strips out. It's two strips facing each other,
stuck together. I'm supposed to rub it in my hand to warm and soften the
wax (I'm guessing). I go one better: I pull out the hair dryer and heat
the Son of a Gun to ten thousand degrees. Cold wax, yeah right.

(Oh, how that phrase will come back to haunt me.)

I lay the strip across my thigh. I hold the skin around it and pull.
OK,so it wasn't the best feeling in the world, but it wasn't bad. I can do this!

Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am Sheera, fighter of all
wayward body hair and smooth skin extraordinaire! With my next waxstrip, I move north.

I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.
Using the same procedure, I then apply the wax strip across the right
side on my bikini line, covering the right half of my HOO-HA and
stretching up into the inside of my right butt cheek. (Yeah, it was a long strip.)

I inhale deeply. I brace myself. RRRIIIIPPP!!!!
I'm blind! Blind from the pain!
Vision returning.
Oh crap. I've managed to pull off half an inch of the strip. Another
deep breath. And RIIIP!

Everything is swirly and tie-dyed?
Do I hear crashing drums?
OK, coming back to normal again. I want to see my trophy - my wax
covered pelt that caused me so much agony. I want to revel in the glory
that is my triumph over body hair. I hold the wax strip like an Olympic
gold medallist.

But why is there no hair on it?
Why is the wax mostly gone?
Where could the wax go, if not on the strip?
Slowly, I eased my head down, my foot still perched on the toilet. I see
hair - the hair that should be on the strip.

I touch. I feel. I am touching wax. I look to the ceiling and silently
shout, "nooooooo!!"

I peel my fingers off the softest, most sensitive part of my body that
is now covered in cold wax and matted hair, and make the next big
mistake - up until this point, you'll remember, I've had my foot on the
toilet. I know I need to move, to do something.

So I put my foot down on the floor. And then I hear the slamming of the
cell door.

Hoo-Ha? Sealed shut.
Rear end? Sealed shut.
>
A little voice in my head says "I hope you don't have to do #2 anytime
soon. Your head just might pop off."

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying desperately to figure out what
I should do next. Hot water! Hot water melts wax! I'll run the hottest
water I can stand and get in - the wax should melt and I can gently wipe
it away, right? Wrong.

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than is used to torture
prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment. And I sit. Now the
only thing worse than having your goodies glued together is having
them glued together and then glued to the bottom of a tub.
In scalding hot water. Which, by the way, does not melt the cold wax.

So now I'm stuck to the tub.

I call my friend, C, because she once dropped out of beauty school so
surely she has some secret knowledge or trick to get wax off skin. It's
never good to start a conversation with "So my a$$ and hoochie are stuck
to the tub. She doesn't have a trick. She does her best to suppress
laughter. She wants to know exactly where the wax is on the a$$ - "Are
we talking cheek or exit, here?" she asks. She isn't even trying to hide
the giggles now.

I give her the run-down of the entire night. She tells me to call the
number on the side of the box, but to have a good cover story for where
the wax actually is. "You know that if we were working the help line at
XX Wax Co. and somebody called with their entire Hoo-Ha sealed shut we'd just
put them on hold then record the conversation for everyone we know.
You're going to end up on a radio show or the internet if you tell them the truth.


While we go through various solutions, I have resorted to scraping the
wax off with a razor. Boy, nothing feels better to the girly goodies
than covering them in wax, sticking them to a tub in super hot water and
THEN dry shaving the sticky wax off!

In the middle of the conversation (which has inexplicably turned to
other subjects!) I find the little, beautiful saving grace that is the
lotion provided with wax to remove the excess. I rub some in and start
screaming "It's working! It's working!" I get hearty congratulations
from C and we hang up.

I successfully remove all the wax and notice, to my dismay, that the
hair is still there. So I shaved the stuff off. Heck, I was numb
by that point anyway. And then I put the box of wax back in my medicine cabinet.

Never know, I may want to try it again.

Note: I didn't write this, but I can't stop laughing!

Now what in the world do you suppose
cats, men and dogs have in common?

A lot! Really!

The Bad Stuff

All of them take up too much room on the bed.

All have irrational fears about vacuum cleaning.

None notice when you get a new hair do.

All refuse to help with the dishes.

All like dominance games.

None will tell you what's bothering them.

All are very direct about wanting to go out.

All are suspicious of the mailman.

The Good Stuff

All are trainable.
(takes a bit of effort though)

All are serious when they kiss you.

None care if you leave your clothes on the floor.

They all miss you when you are gone.

Time spent with them is never wasted.

They are all very intelligent.
(a little stretch here)

They all like attention.
(if you catch them in the right mood)

They all know how to relax.

Oh My Word....this one is great but it's not my own. Go over and check out Ballpoint Wren.

I can so identify with this, but it's usually TV, VCR or Satellite remotes!

This is a true account as recorded in the Police Log of
Sarasota, Florida...

An elderly Florida lady did her shopping and, upon returning to her car, found four males in the act of leaving with her vehicle.

She dropped her shopping bags and drew her handgun, proceeding to scream at the top of her voice, "I have a gun, and I know how to use it! Get out of the car!"

The four men didn't wait for a second invitation. They got out and ran like mad. The lady, somewhat shaken, then proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and got into the driver's seat.

She was so shaken that she could not get her key into the ignition. She tried and tried, and then it dawned on her why...

For the same reason she did not understand why there was a football, a Frisbee and two 12 packs of beer in the front seat!

A few minutes later, she found her own car parked four or five spaces farther down. She loaded her bags into the car and drove to the police station to report her mistake. The sergeant to whom she told the story couldn't stop laughing.

He pointed to the other end of the counter, where four pale men were reporting a car jacking by a mad, elderly woman described as white, less than five feet tall, glasses, curly white hair, and carrying a large handgun.

No charges were filed.

If you're going to have a Senior Moment, make it a memorable one!