Category: Humour/Humor

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WE ARE SEENAGERS ~ FINALLY!!!!!!

I just discovered our age group! We are Seenagers. (Senior teenagers)
I have everything that I wanted as a teenager, only 50-60 years later.
I don’t have to go to school or work
I get an allowance every month.
I have my own pad.
I don’t have a curfew.
I have a driver’s license and my own car.
I have ID that gets me into bars and the wine store. I like the wine store best.
The people I hang around with are not scared of getting pregnant, they aren’t scared of anything, they have been blessed to live this long, why be scared?
And I don’t have acne
Life is Good! Also, you will feel much more intelligent after reading this, if you are a Seenager.
Brains of older people are slow because they know so much.
People do not decline mentally with age, it just takes them longer to recall facts because they have more information in their brains.
Scientists believe this also makes you hard of hearing as it puts pressure on your inner ear.
Also, older people often go to another room to get something and when they get there, they stand there wondering what they came for.
It is NOT a memory problem, it is nature’s way of making older people do more exercise.
SO THERE!!
I have more friends I should send this to, but right now I can’t remember their names.
So, please forward this to your friends; they may be my friends, too.

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I’ll Be Watching You

I'll Be Watching You
Our late, lamented poodle Moet was like this. No, on second thoughts, he was a tad more causative. Once merely staring you down faile to achieve the desired result he would bark at you as if to say, “Can’t you see I’m looking at you like I want some!”

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Her visit to Rome…

A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded, “Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It’s crowded and dirty. You’re crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?”
“We’re taking Continental,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”
“Continental?” exclaimed the hairdresser.” That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always
late. So, where are you staying in Rome?”
“We’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Teste.”
“Don’t go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump.”
“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.”
“That’s rich,” laughed the hairdresser. You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this
lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.”
A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.
“It was wonderful,” explained the woman, “not only were we on time to catch one of Continental’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and
they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot. The hotel was great! They’d just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at no extra charge!”
“Well,” muttered the hairdresser, “that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”
“Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to
meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me.”
“Oh, really! What’d he say?”
He said, “Who screwed up your hair?”