My mother sends the most hilarious stuff sometimes.  These are from an email titled “Additions to the Redneck Photo Album.”  I have no source to reference here other than the email, but here are a few of them:

Redneck Wedding Cake

This one was titled Redneck pickup, but I think this is much more of a Yank’s pickup:

And then here we have the Redneck PDA (unfortunately, I have to admit some guilt on this one - minus the pen tied to my wrist…):

If you didn’t know, I do taxidermy, and I keep telling my brother I am going to make him a deer butt for his birthday one of these years.  Here is what I am definitely going to do:

The Redneck Doorbell

And for all you Redneck Shoppers:

And here is the Redneck Wedding Announcement of the Year:

Um, is she even in her teens yet?  And what is that his shirt says?  Ahh yes, “if I throw a stick, will you leave?”

Wonder if they are still together.  Yuck.  In a creepy way, this dude reminds me of my ex husband.  Note to self, be sure Noah doesn’t grow up to look like that.  Yikes.

This article from AskMen.com is hilarious! It very strictly defines the difference between what is acceptable behavior for a man who is “in touch with their feminine side” and what is not. A little from the article:

• It’s acceptable to: Prepare and cook a meal. It’s too much if you: Routinely bake triple-layer cakes and gingerbread men. When it comes to cooking, you’re better off preparing manly foods like steak, ribs and, whenever possible, Wooly Mammoth. Let’s be honest: If a meal isn’t capable of simultaneously clogging all of your arteries, it certainly isn’t worth consuming.
• It’s acceptable to: Acknowledge that you can find certain men attractive. It’s too much if you: Discuss specifics. There’s nothing wrong
  with thinking Brad Pitt is handsome, but under no circumstances should
  you tell your buddies you think he has the best ass in Hollywood. When discussing other men, it pays to be vague.
• It’s acceptable to: Enjoy the occasional shopping spree. It’s too much if you: Nearly faint with excitement every time
  you spot a shoe sale. For the love of God, hold yourself together –
  it’s just patent leather. The only time the words “half off” should get
  you hot and bothered is when they’re uttered in a strip club.

There are a bunch more - this article is a hoot!!

Just kidding, I really love him to death. But he has presented a riddle, that I can see is going to take up my days and keep me from doing my work. But, it is something I can do while my broadband is down and my hunt and search capabilities stink.

Valentine’s Day Riddle

I totally suck at these things, so Suz and Marshall, my smartest friends/relatives, have a go at it, and then tell me the answer so I can report back and look so smart. LOL!

From Peg.. We’ve all had trouble with our animals, but I don’t think anyone
can top this one:Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I’m lying. On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.
The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife’s wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem. Iheard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it.” “You know where the button is,” I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. “Reset it yourself!” But I’m scared!” she persisted. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?” There was a meaningful pause and then, “C’mon, it’ll only take you a second.”

I thought my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn’t the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the
full weight of kitten hanging from my masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome.
Men, in this predicament, choose only the “flight” option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the
air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on
the kitchen floor buck naked in front of a group of “been-there, done-that” paramedics. They were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter… and not succeeding.

Somehow I lived through it all.

A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my
head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which…it was.
“What’s the matter?” They all asked, “Cat got your tongue?”

From my brother, via email:
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and then proceeded to fill it with golf balls.  He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.  So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them  into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.  Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “yes.”  The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space  between the sand. The students laughed.  ”Now,” said the professor, as the laughter subsided, “I want  you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things, your family, your children, your  health, your friends, your favorite passions, things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.  The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else……the small stuff.  “If you put the sand  into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life.  If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children.  Take time to get medical checkups.  Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18.There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. “Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The  rest is just sand.” One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of beers.”

This may not be true but…it is good reading and amusing.

This was an actual letter sent to the IRS after the author was denied tax deductions on two of his children.

Dear Sirs:
I am responding to your letter denying the deduction for two of the three dependents I claimed on my 1994 Federal Tax return. Thank you. I have questioned whether or not these are my children for years. They are evil and expensive. It’s only fair that, since they are minors and no longer my responsibility, the government should know something about them and what to expect over the next year. Please do not try to reassign them to me next year and reinstate the deduction. They are yours.

The oldest, Kristen, is now 17. She is brilliant. Ask her. I suggest you put her to work in your office where she can answer people’s questions about their returns. While she has no formal training, it has not seemed to hamper her mastery of any subject you can name. Taxes should be a breeze. Next year she is going to college. I think it’s wonderful that you will now be responsible for that little expense. While you mull that over, keep in mind that she has a truck. It doesn’t run at the moment, so you have the choice of appropriating some Department of Defense funds to fix the vehicle, or getting up early to drive her to school. Kristen also has a boyfriend. Oh joy. While she possesses all of the wisdom of the universe, her alleged mother and I have felt it best to occasionally remind her of the virtues of abstinence, or in the face of overwhelming passion, safe sex. This is always uncomfortable, and I am quite relieved you will be handling this in the future.

Patrick is 14. I’ve had my suspicions about this one. His eyes are a little closer together than those of normal people. He may be a tax examiner himself one day, if he is not incarcerated first. In February, I was awakened at three in the morning by a police officer who was bringing Pat home. He and his friends were TPing houses. In the future, would you like him delivered to the local IRS office, or to Ogden, UT? Kids at 14 will do almost anything on a dare. His hair is purple. Permanent dye, temporary dye, what’s the big deal? Learn to deal with it. You’ll have plenty of time, as he is sitting out a few days of school after instigating a food fight in the cafeteria. I’ll take care of filing your phone number with the vice-principal. Oh yes, he and all of his friends have raging hormones. This is the house of testosterone and it will be much more peaceful when he lives in your home. Do not leave him or his friends unsupervised with girls, explosives, inflammables, inflatable’s, vehicles, or telephones (They find telephones a source of unimaginable amusement. Be sure to lock out the 900 and 976 numbers).

Heather is an alien. She slid through a time warp and appeared as if by magic one year. I’m sure this one is yours. She is 10 going on 21. She came from a bad trip in the sixties. She wears tie-dyed clothes, beads, sandals, and hair that looks like Tiny Tim’s. Fortunately you will be raising my taxes to help offset the pinch of her remedial reading courses. “Hooked On Phonics” is expensive, so the schools dropped it. But here’s the good news. You can buy it yourself for half the amount of the deduction that you are denying me. It’s quite obvious that we were terrible parents (ask the other two). She cannot speak English. Most people under 20 understand the curious patois she fashioned out of valley girls/boys in the hood/reggae/yuppie/political double speak. The school sends her to a speech pathologist who has her roll her R’s. It added a refreshing Mexican/Irish touch to her voice. She wears hats backwards, baggy pants, and wants one of her ears pierced four more times. There is a fascination with tattoos that worry me, but I am sure that you can handle it. Bring a truck when you come to get her, she sort of “nests” in her room and I think that it would be easier to move the entire thing than find out what it is really made of.

You denied two of the three exemptions, so it is only fair that you get to pick which two you will take. I prefer that you take the youngest two, I will still go bankrupt with Kristen’s college, but then I am free. If you take the two oldest, then I still have time for counseling before Heather becomes a teenager. If you take the two girls, then I won’t feel so bad about putting Patrick in a military academy. Please let me know of your decision as soon as possible, as I have already increased the withholding on my W-4 to cover the $395 in additional tax and made a down payment on an airplane.

Yours truly, Bob Note:
The IRS allowed the deductions and reinstated his refund.

funworld/fun4you: God will help me

There was a man called him Jim, who lived near a river. Jim was a very religious man.One day, the river rose over the banks and flooded the town, and Jim was forced to climb onto his porch roof. While sitting there, a man in a boat comes along and tells Jim to get in the boat with him. Jim says “No, that’s ok. God will take care of me.” So, the man in the boat drives off.

The water rises, so Jim climbs onto his roof. At that time, another boat comes along and the person in that one tells Jim to get in. Jim replies, “No, that’s ok. God will take care of me.” The person in the boat then leaves.

The water rises even more, and Jim climbs on his chimney. Then a helicopter comes and lowers a ladder. The woman in the helicopter tells Jim to climb up the ladder and get in. Jim tells her “That’s ok.” The woman says “Are you sure?” Jim says, “Yeah, I’m sure God will take care of me.

Finally, the water rises too high and Jim drowns. Jim gets up to Heaven and is face-to-face with God. Jim says to God “You told me you would take care of me! What happened?”

God replied “Well, I sent you two boats and a helicopter. What else did you want?”