Saving SpongeBob Using High Tech

Put Active RFID Satellite Tags in SpongeBobs

SpongeBob has been in the news a lot lately, he has been a kidnapped Victim. Instead of wasting time with an Amber Alert for SpongeBob, why not put an Active RFID Satellite Tags in the SpongeBobs so we can track them to the culprits.

This would surely be a major deterrent to the kidnappers.

Such a plan would insure the safe return of Hostages such as SpongeBob and catch the people terrorizing him?

SpongeBob needs protection and apparently we could use some practice catching kidnappers and those who terrorize our most valuable people?

Apparently the temptation to break one's ethical code is easy if you reduce the crime of theft or kidnapping to a prank? Catching these thieves who steal the SpongeBob using the latest technology makes a lot of sense.

SpongeBob has been found on top of Fraternity Houses, floating in the lake and even left for dead along the roadside.

With modern technology, we can save him, Active RFID technology has come a long way and the price per tag is coming down to make it a valuable tool to re-capture SpongeBob until the next prankster removes him again from his happy home.

"Lance Winslow" - If you have innovative thoughts and unique perspectives, come think with Lance; <a target="_new" href="http://www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs">www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs</a>

The Zapp Principle

My dad's lab was a mess, but then it was always a mess. This time it was a lightly charred mess, covered with extinguisher gloop. Abdul the camel seemed happy enough though, despite his smoking bum fur.

Also surviving the fartplosion was my father's newest invention, all glowing lights and shiny metal buttons. Dad stood before it, looking very proud.

'This is my second most precious baby,' he announced, as if to a great crowd. 'It's the world's first inter-dimensional instant transporter. I call it a zapporter. When tapped into, the Zapp Principle requires remarkably little power to operate: just a couple of AA batteries, actually.' My dad paused. I clapped once. 'Ahem,' he continued. 'Simply by standing in front of the zapporter and pressing this lever,' my dad reached out to a shiny silver lever, 'which I won't pull now, because I'm not really crazy?'

'Let's assume you were?' I was growing impatient.

'Ah, if I was, and if I did, I would be instantly transported right across the universe, maybe to an advanced alien civilisation!'

I was more than a bit interested now. 'Let's fire this sucker up and take a zap around the solar system!'

My dad looked horrified. 'Good gravy, Raz, we couldn't do that! First, we'd need to take this portable zapporter,' Dad pointed to a smaller machine on the shelf, 'otherwise we could never return to Earth! But even then, we still mustn't go! For what if we were transported to a world where the air was so acid it ate off our skin in seconds and dissolved our bones in minutes? Or if we stepped into a black hole and were compacted to microscopic size like space garbage? No Raz, only an expert astronaut could possibly test my zapporter!'

I was majorly bummed. 'I'm majorly bummed. What good is this invention if we can't play with it? Why don't you invent a transporter for use here on Earth? So we can just instantly zap to Singapore or Hanoi? Now that would be cool.'

'Raz, I'm hoping I can sell my zapporter to NASA or the Chinese. We may soon be very rich! Then we can do what we've always dreamed: buy a farm with lots of chickens and horses!'

'Gross, Dad,' I snorted. 'That might be your dream, but it's my nightmare! Farms are miles from anywhere interesting and usually smell like? farms. I've been to one, remember? Chickens are only cool when they're chopped up in a Vietnamese omelette. And horses? horses?' I spluttered for words. 'Horses haven't been cool since the Middle Ages, since cars were invented. Animals generally stink, are ugly, and have fleas and horrible needs. But horses are the stinkiest, ugliest, most flea-riddled, horribly needy animals of all! Well, they're the second most anyway,' I shuddered. I couldn't even name the worst animal. 'Still, being rich would be cool. As long as we're talking billions.'

'We can always dream, Erasmus.' My dad looked a bit stunned at my outburst. 'Anyway, back to your homework. Bed no later than ten. Brush every tooth first. I have to run a few final tests. And Raz?'

'What?'

'Make sure you stay away from this zapporter.' My dad tried to look all serious. What a joke. 'Okay, Raz? Okay?'

'Okay, Dad,' I lied.

But it was a white lie. A lie to stop my dad from worrying. For I knew better than to care about his dramatic warnings. He clearly needed my help. Soon I would be the first person in history to ride that zapporter. The first to visit another world! Soon I would fly faster than any Earth boy had ever flown before!! I would win a Nobble Prize too, maybe even before my dad!!! Me, Erasmus Einstein James!!!!

My dad leant forward to hug me. I leant back. 'Dad, I'm almost 12 and you're almost 40.'

'I'm still only 38,' he muttered.

'So isn't it time you outgrew this childish need of yours for hugs? Mum's gone. Get over it.'

'I?'

'Hug the damaged animals,' I advised.

'I do,' said my sad Dad. 'Every day. It's good therapy.'

Yeah, right. Poor Pops. 'G'night, Dad.'

I adopted one of my Dad's sick animals once. I won't make that mistake again. Captain Chook was a real fighter, and kind of cute, apart from his hideous internal injuries. I set up that rooster's sick bed right next to my own and provided round the clock snacks and tweet-ment. Every hour Chooky lived, I grew more confident he would survive.

On day three, I rushed home from school. Captain Chook's eyes were shut, but I could tell he was breathing. I reached out to pat his chest feathers. Chooky's eyes flew open. He pecked my hand hard. Blood dribbled out. Then? he died! It was as if Chooky was just waiting to pass on his ugly message before he karked it. There was a war raging between the animal world (e.g., my chook) and human inventions (e.g., the truck that squished my chook).

After half a pack of tissues, I resolved to be on the winning side from that day on. My Dad's soft side only lead to heartbreak, and a stinky room.

Free of such worries, I began packing my backpack. A warm jumper, in case space is as cold as it looks. Space snack food, including two leftover containers of Vietnamese rice. Some handy off-world survival articles: a LameBoy game, mini disc player, my Bratty bear (I've outgrown bears, but this is a koala and could have educational benefits for aliens), a pair of boardies, a novelty hat and party shirt (in case any cuties invite me to a space disco). I packed then unpacked my mobile phone, figuring Uranus would probably be a few million kilometres out of roaming range. Sunscreen, in case I zapped too near the sun (my dad would be pleased). Comb. Toothbrush? Nah. Chocolate toothpaste? Why not? Chocolate bars? For sure.

Hmmm. Something to trade might come in handy too. So I printed out a few dozen schematics (invention plans) and sealed them watertight. Maybe I could trade the plans to build a microwave oven for an alien death-ray off Jar Jar Stinks?

I paused. What if I really did zap to somewhere gross or deadly? Would sunscreen save my bum in a black hole? Then I remembered. I could just transport myself straight back to my dad's lab with the portable zapporter! Everything would be cool, as long as I didn't freak out. And I never did that.

But first, I had to wait until my dad ran out of inventing steam. Around midnight I heard him stagger down the hall to his bedroom. Next came a whump as he collapsed onto his bed, followed by a series of smaller plop sounds that I knew came from the road-kill animals hopping onto his bed with him. I tiptoed down the hall and peered into Dad's room. He was snoring already, still fully dressed, and covered in bandaged mini-beasts. I pulled his door shut (that way, he'd be kept busy a little longer when he awoke, cleaning up their multiple poopsicles (especially Abdul's)), and snuck down the hall toward the secret door.

With luck, I'd be zapped back in time for breakfast, my backpack bloated with booty.

DC Green is the author of 'Erasmus James and the Galactic ZAPP Machine', a funny and action-packed tale of friendship, intergalactic zapping, flatulent horses, environmental havoc and bus-sized chickens for 8-108 year olds. An award-winning fiction and non-fiction writer, DC used to travel the world for surf magazines, mainly because he couldn't afford his own air tickets. He lives on the NSW South Coast of Australia with one slightly crazy daughter and three very crazy cats.

Check out the first four chapters of 'Erasmus James and the Galactic ZAPP Machine' free at DC Green Yarns: <a target="_new" href="http://dcgreenyarns.blogspot.com/">http://dcgreenyarns.blogspot.com/</a>

Order 'Erasmus James and the Galactic ZAPP Machine' at Bookmark Australia: <a target="_new" href="http://www.bookmarkaustralia.com.au/">http://www.bookmarkaustralia.com.au/</a>

3 Surefire Ways To Combat Rising Gas Prices

I have heard the rumblings of many of you in Readerland about the recent spike in gasoline prices. In fact it's all I seem to hear about lately. But at least it keeps you from rumbling about the infrequency of my columns and articles. Nonetheless, I have decided to try to help you get through this crisis by generously providing: 3 Ways to Combat Rising Gas Prices!

1. Don't Drive Your Car

This is, of course, the most obvious solution. If you never take the old Plymouth out the driveway, then it won't matter that at current gas prices it takes $125 to fill up the 30 gallon gas tank, or that you only get about 2.51 miles to the gallon. If you never drive, you could care less.

Of course, I know what you're going to say. "But Tim, I have places I need to go-like work. And the kids have school and soccer practice. And then there's grocery shopping and yoga lesssons and dinner at the Richardsons and blah blah blah and...." Ok, I get the point. Not everyone can sit around the house writing not-so-funny articles and searching the Internet for Drew Barrymore photos like me. I fully understand that some of you have a life. But just because you don't drive your own car doesn't mean you can't get around. The answer?

2. Carpool

It's seems so simple now doesn't it. Instead of using your gas-Use Someone Elses! Have someone else pay $5.50 a gallon for gas to take your kids to school. Make someone else dip into their retirement fund just so they can cover the gas bill needed to get you to the office and back everyday. Make someone else get a second job so that they can have a full tank of gas in their SUV when your daughter needs to cruise the mall. It's so simple.

Of course, the concept behind carpooling is that everyone takes turns driving. So in a normal carpool situation you would eventually be required to use your car and spend your money driving others around. But this is not a Normal Carpool Situation, this is a Tim Ward Carpool Situation (TWCPS). In a TWCPS you avoid using your own car by making it so that the other carpool participants would rather walk barefoot on 120 degree asphalt than ride with you. You achieve this by:

(a) never washing or cleaning your car. Leave it looking and smelling like the county landfill.

(b) Have the worst behaved child in your family sitting in the front seat at all times. Feed the child lots of candy so he/she is always superhyper.

(c) Refuse to discuss anything in your car except your spouses bad bathing habits, bodily fluids, hang nails, chest hair, etc.

(d) Only play reggae music on the radio. Loud!

You shouldn't have to worry about anyone wanting to ride with you ever again.

3. Ride the Bus/Subway

Many cities have a mass transit system that is an alternative to driving your own vehicle. If you live in a city that doesn't have one don't worry-you can always move. Of course, riding public transportation does have a few drawbacks, but these can be easily overcome if you follow these simple guidelines:

1. No matter what happens never, ever make eye contact with anyone. Making eye contact is an invitation for someone to mug you.

2. No matter what happens never, ever give up your seat to anyone. This is seen as weakness, and will be taken as an invitation to mug you.

3. No matter how tempted you are never, ever strike up a conversation with the person sitting next or across from you. This is very annoying and can be taken as an invitation for someone to mug you. Or worse, for someone to talk back.

4. Always make sure you are alert to get on and off at the right stop. Getting off at the wrong stop can lead to immediate mugging.

5. Never, ever take children with you on public transportation. Fellow passengers hate children. Children make you definite mug victim material.

Well, there you have it. 3 ways to deal with rising gas prices. Hopefully, you will be able to use these methods to keep from spending twice your car's Blue Book value just going to Walmart. Hopefully, next time your friends are grumbling and ranting about the mounting gas prices you will be able to just sit back and smile, content because the issue no longer concerns you. Hopefully, I've once more helped my loyal readers in a time of crisis. And all I ask in return as a simple thank you next time you see me. Just make sure we're not on the bus. I'd hate to have to mug you...

Tim Ward invites you to visit <a target="_new" href="http://www.timward.1afm.com">http://www.timward.1afm.com</a> to subscribe to his humor column 'I Never Said I Was Normal'.

Eye Spy Potatoes

Lately I've had the problem of falling asleep with my contact lenses still in my eyes. And by "lately," I mean for the past seven years. This, in a lot of ways, is the pinnacle of laziness because the removal of contacts takes no more than a minute or two, or three hours if it's your first time. But I've come to the conclusion this morning that there is a reason I fail to remove the contacts: deep down, I am hoping to find certain people in my dreams. So if I have the contacts on my eyes, then perhaps my eyes will be able to contact them. Isn't logic wonderful? I am pretty sure, in fact, that if I never remove my contacts, a telephone may become a thing of the past...

If we really do follow logic with our eyes, then why don't we use potatoes as optometrists? Any vegetable with that many eyes must have good sight. The only thing we'd have to worry about is their communication skills, because I've yet to hear a potato talk, especially not in full sentences. Plus, we need to get rid of the negative stereotypes of potatoes caused by Mr. Potato Head, who never seems to have his feet or arms in the right place. Quite honestly, I don't think we can trust something -- or someone -- like that with our vision. Truly you'd be able to say that nobody "nose" the trouble if your nose is in an eye socket...

If the trust does accumulate, I think we need to assure the general population that not only will these potatoes test our eye sight, but they will also help to remove pointy objects, such as broken light bulbs from lamps. Imagine the possible diagnosis: "Well, your eyes are good, but your lamp is going to have to stay here for another 24 hours. You can never be careful, you know."

Speaking of columns going nowhere, I think most rabbits have more money than people realize, with all those carrots and whatnot. The thing is, what is a rabbit supposed to do with money? This question leads me to think that rabbits need financial advisers who will take care of money matters and tell them that money does matter, but then tell them the opposite once they invest half of their money and lose it. Bugs and Roger would be proud...

In conclusion, I must stop falling asleep with contacts in my eyes, because eventually such an action will cause me to write very bad columns about rabbits and money. Luckily I don't think that will happen for quite some time...

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

The Top 10 All Time Worst Jokes About Piano Players

Here, for your barfing pleasure, are the top ten worst jokes of all time about piano players. Nothing personal, you understand, since I am one. But a little comic relief laughing at ourselves is good for both our soul and our humility.

So without further ado, here are some of the all time worst piano jokes in descending order:

10. What do a vacuum cleaner and an electric piano have in common.

Answer: Both suck when you plug them in.

9. What does a piano player dream about?

Answer: Sheet music.

8. What do you get when you drop a piano down a mine shaft?

Answer: A flat minor.

7. What's the difference between a piano accompanianist and a terrorist?

Answer: You can negotiate with a terrorist.

6. How do you make a million dollars playing the piano? Answer: Start with two million.

5. How do you get two piano players to play in perfect unison?

Answer: Shoot one.

4. Did you hear about the piano player who played in rhythm?

Answer: Neither did I.

3. What's the difference between a piano and an onion?

Answer: No one cries when you chop up a piano.

2. What did the piano player get on his IQ test?

Answer: Drool.

1. What's the difference between a medium pizza and a piano player?

Answer: A pizza can feed a family of four.

Pretty bad, eh?

I agree. Now let's all get back to our piano practicing.

PS: None of these lousy jokes are original with me -- they have been around for ages in many forms.

Desiree Bruyere is a free-lance writer and amateur piano player who plays jazz & pop piano strictly for the love of it. She takes piano lessons online and on DVD from her native France, and got started by taking the free 2-year online course in <a target="_new" href="http://www.playpiano.com/">http://www.playpiano.com/</a> Secrets of Exciting Piano Chords & Sizzling Chord Progressions</a> offered worldwide, then later took the <a target="_new" href="http://www.pianolessonsbyvideo.com/">http://www.pianolessonsbyvideo.com/</a>Crash Course In Exciting Piano Playing For Adults</a>

Your Stars Part 3

Libra

Hit TV show 'The X Factor' is back on our screens giving us all a rare, legitimate chance to laugh at the mentally ill during the audition stages. In this PC berserk world we now live in, such an activity has become scandalously frowned upon so it's only right to thank ITV for reviving this tragically forgotten pleasure by switching on in your droves. Also coming soon to your screens?.Black & White Minstrel Idol!

Scorpio

It's time to confront your partner about their recent suspicious behaviour - the extra hours spent at work, returning home slightly dishevelled and an unwillingness to make love to you because 'they're tired'. Be bold and act first ? burn all their clothes and smash their belongings to pieces before confronting them about their infidelity. Do not accept their explanation that they're doing overtime to pay off all the credit card debts you've run up because they love you and want to enjoy a stress free future with you. Ditch them and find someone that accepts you for who you are ? a paranoid, insecure, unreasonable, unhinged, spendaholic who'll do whatever a rubbish fictional astrologer tells them.

Sagittarius

A night out with an old friend makes you realise what a hash you've made of your life in comparison with theirs. They've got a better job, better relationship (including regular sex) and a better car and there's absolutely no prospect of you improving matters. Take solace from the fact that they had something nasty hanging out of their nostril for the entire evening.

Capricorn

This could be a month to really make something of your life. So go out, find a drug dealer, score some crack and heroin and start developing yourself a habit. This advice may fly in the face of previous wisdom on the subject but just look at Pete Doherty ? the moment he starts getting off his face on junk he gets in the papers every day, scoops a couple of top ten singles, makes a bucket load of money and bags himself a super model girlfriend. Just say 'no'? Just say 'pass the crack pipe' more like.

Aquarius What the hell is going on here? I'm not getting anything for you Aquariusans (or whatever you're called) this month. Every time I do this chart I just get a sudden urge to rush out and buy a Ford. Bizarre.

Pisces

DO NOT watch the third programme of the current series of X Factor UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES! Apparently there's a hopeful who, in a bad light, may resemble myself slightly (but certainly IS NOT) who sings a wonderful rendition of a Brian McFadden song, and after an utterly unjustified mauling from Simon 'Wouldn't Know A Singing Psychic Megastar If It Poked Him Up The Jacksy' Cowell, ends up crying hysterically in the arms of Kate Thornton. Even though that poor unfortunate WASN'T ME (!) I'd like to take this opportunity to tell Simon Cowell that he's deprived the country of the greatest musical talent since, well, Brian McFadden. It's your loss Cowell ? not mine that bloke that looks like me!!!

Aries

Loss is difficult for anyone to cope with but please remember the old adage that time is a great healer. Your life may, at the moment, seem emptier than a fridge within the vicinity of Eamonn Holmes, but you must cling onto that light at the end of the tunnel ? Big Brother WILL be back on next year.

Taurus

September- the month that Summer turns to Autumn and a little happiness disappears from our hearts. There's a chill in the air where once there was glorious warmth. Those bright summer evenings start being lost to dark, depressing ones. The opportunity of the odd cheap thrill disappears as attractive young people start wearing more clothes and Saturday night TV on BBC1 becomes unwatchable as they trot out another appalling flop of a new series in a bid to compete with Ant & Dec and The X Factor. It's all gone rubbish hasn't it? Hang on though, it's not all bad ? if you're a parent, the kids go back to school! Woo-hoo!!!

Gemini

The new moon this month brings with it renewed optimism and with it banishes any doubts you had about certain major decisions you've had to make - you were absolutely right not to refuse your best friend's fianc? when they came on to you recently. Your friend is still on the verge of a breakdown following the death of their mother and would certainly have been in no mood get up to the filthy stuff their fianc? demanded of you. You are truly a wonderful friend, a view they will no doubt endorse when you tell them what you did. I'd leave it a few years before you do though ? or perhaps a few decades.

Cancer

Cancer- terrible name for a star sign isn't it? Surely if we have to have a sign named after an illness or affliction, it'd be better if it was something less awful - like 'Ricketts' perhaps or 'Thrush'. Mind you, there'd have to be a new symbol to go with it and designing one wouldn't come cheap. Hang on- got it! We can keep the existing symbol and just change the name to 'Crabs'. Bingo!

Leo

Beware of your short tempered nature and try and keep a perspective on things this month. We've all been there and it would be a struggle for anyone to retain their composure in similar circumstances but just remember this ? as infuriating as it is, being asked 'if you want fries with that' when ordering a McFlurry does not give you the right to get the assistant in a head lock, march them out of the door, drive them to a remote location and force them to watch re-runs of Celebrity Love Island. Sicko!

Virgo

I see cards - greetings cards. Gifts. A cake-with candles on. It looks like some sort of celebration, perhaps even a birthday celebration. Yes ? it's going to be your birthday! Happy Birthday (except those of you born in August)! God I'm good.

Your stars are available via <a target="_new" href="http://www.24-7london.co.uk">http://www.24-7london.co.uk</a>. They are written by a variety of people under the guise of 'Alex Barker'. 24-7 London is an online entertainment guide to London, England with a sense of humour.

Restaurant Manager Gives Out Sexual Favors As Performance Bonus, Raise

While many restaurant workers worry and sweat in anticipation of an imminent job-related performance review, employees at Applebee's in Westland have adopted an entirely different attitude toward the employment evaluation process. This is due in no small part to the fact that the general manager, Lisa Blanco, rewards superior employee performance the old fashion way.

"We have the lowest turnover rate in the company," said Blanco, beaming. "I'm proud of the fact that when I get an employee, I know how to keep that employee happy and productive."

Blanco started this unusual practice with her subordinates about five years ago, shortly after being promoted to management and immediately after her first husband died. This particular motivational technique is, however, deeply ingrained in her nature, and has served her well in many other areas, and at many other times in her life.

"When I was a waitress with this, and other, companies," said Blanco, "I loved my job, and I was continually looking for ways to increase my tips while making the customer happy. Hell, I remember understanding this philosophy way back in high school. I learned there had to be balance, it had to be a win/win situation for everybody...I've always had high values and integrity. I learned that to get what I want it only made sense that I needed to give the customer what he wants, and I knew I already gave above-average service. Now I needed to give above-average head."

Blanco's track record is excellent. Her store outperforms virtually every other Applebee's in Michigan -- and is consistently in the top-five out of all the Applebee's in the country -- in sales, service, customer satisfaction, product quality, penmanship and, for obvious reasons, employee satisfaction. In addition, her restaurant has maintained almost the exact same staff for the last three years, well beyond any previous company records.

"Yeah, it took me a couple of years to get to know my staff," said Blanco, absently stroking an Applebee's pen while gazing reflectively into the distance. "Working in a busy restaurant can be a high-pressure experience. We are a melting pot of diverse personalities, working under often stressful circumstances. You never know how someone is going to react.

"I learned their likes and dislikes, and what motivated them to the point that they'd willingly give me that something extra...that, whatever it is that comes out at that moment of truth when they've reached the point of maximum heightened activity. Is it hot in here?"

Not that her employees are complaining. Several suggested to the corporate office that Blanco's philosophy be adopted company-wide, and because of those suggestions two senior corporate managers plan a visit to observe, and possibly make recommendations, later this month.

"It's great timing," said Larry Ward, who was brought over by Blanco after working with her at another restaurant. "I think most of us are up for review right around the time those big-wigs are supposed to be here. They get to see hands-on what gives us such a strong unit. Sure, we go against almost every modern axiom pertaining to manager/employee relations, but she took the single most important principle -- keeping your employees happy -- and she does it better than anyone else could ever dream."

Said Ward, "While everyone else is looking outside the box, we're all looking inside hers."

After over 12 years as a waiter and bartender, Dennis Rymarz walked completely away from the business and launched Don't Tip the Waiter, a one-of-a-kind satirical publication that reports fictional news and events from the restaurant industry.

Initially intended specifically for servers and bartenders, the publication is now read by a rapidly growing audience that includes just about anyone who goes out to eat.

Don't Tip the Waiter is distributed free-of-charge to bars and restaurants in the Detroit area, and can be read on line at <a target="_new" href="http://donttipthewaiter.com">http://donttipthewaiter.com</a>

Saving SpongeBob Using High Tech

Put Active RFID Satellite Tags in SpongeBobs

SpongeBob has been in the news a lot lately, he has been a kidnapped Victim. Instead of wasting time with an Amber Alert for SpongeBob, why not put an Active RFID Satellite Tags in the SpongeBobs so we can track them to the culprits.

This would surely be a major deterrent to the kidnappers.

Such a plan would insure the safe return of Hostages such as SpongeBob and catch the people terrorizing him?

SpongeBob needs protection and apparently we could use some practice catching kidnappers and those who terrorize our most valuable people?

Apparently the temptation to break one's ethical code is easy if you reduce the crime of theft or kidnapping to a prank? Catching these thieves who steal the SpongeBob using the latest technology makes a lot of sense.

SpongeBob has been found on top of Fraternity Houses, floating in the lake and even left for dead along the roadside.

With modern technology, we can save him, Active RFID technology has come a long way and the price per tag is coming down to make it a valuable tool to re-capture SpongeBob until the next prankster removes him again from his happy home.

"Lance Winslow" - If you have innovative thoughts and unique perspectives, come think with Lance; <a target="_new" href="http://www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs">www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs</a>

Humor Under The Keyboards

For me, the piano is the symbol of what is stiff, proper and elegant. It doesn't have faults, it is perfect. Pianists are the most perfectionist people in the world. They should not and can not make mistakes especially when performing. That is how I viewed the piano and the pianists. But then, I just found out I was wrong. A few researches and I have once again proven that appearances can be deceiving.

The pianists we see play appear to be the most formal and respectable stars on the stage. They hold the power and the breath of the audiences. They could look intimidating in their formal suits not to mention the authority and the air of arrogance they exude while on stage. They can be captivating.

But before we forget, these pianists are also human. And humans do make mistakes. Most of these mistakes can be frustrating and depressing. But then, there are also mistakes that are amusing and could also be totally hilarious. It shows how fun could be inserted even in the most seemingly stuffy and proper event.

Here are some examples:

When asked for their definition of a piano, some famous musicians and musical enthusiasts have some famous replies:

? For David W. Barber (The Musician's Dictionary), a piano is a cumbersome piece of furniture found in many homes, where playing it ensures the early departure of unwanted guests.

? Piano (n.) is a parlor utensil for subduing the impertinent visitor. It is operated by depressing the keys of the machine and the spirits of the audience, according to Ambrose Bierce, an American journalist (The Devil's Dictionary).

? A piano tuner is a person employed to come into the home, rearrange the furniture, and annoy the cat. The tuner's chief purpose is to ascertain the breaking point of the piano's strings.

Though these definitions may sound humorous, you can never miss the ironies in it. Coming from people who live and breathe the piano, these definitions seem odd.

Here's more ? when asked about their secrets in playing, you would certainly be surprised at how simple their secrets can be, and definitely applicable.

? Australian pianist Artur Schnabel said, &quot;I always make sure that the lid over the keyboard is open before I start to play&quot;.

? &quot;Nothing soothes me more after a long and maddening course of pianoforte recitals than to sit and have my teeth drilled&quot;, said George Bernard Shaw, a writer and a music critic.

I definitely agree with Artur Schnabel's top secret! I wonder why George found it relaxing to have his teeth drilled after hearing the pianoforte recitals. Check out more of the piano's funny side:

? Bob Hope, an American comedian commented on fellow comedian Phyllis Diller on her playing the piano: &quot;When she started to play, Steinway himself came down personally and rubbed his name off the piano.&quot;

? A band teacher recalled the title of the song &quot;Claire de Lune&quot; played by a student as &quot;Claire de Loonie&quot;.

? The audiences at a piano recital were appalled when a telephone rang just off stage. Without missing a note, the soloist glanced toward the wings and called, &quot;If that's my agent, tell him I'm working!&quot;

Now, let's check out some famous questions and answers in the funny world of piano:

? What do you get when you drop a piano down a mine shaft? A flat minor

? What do you get when you drop a piano on an army base? A flat major

? Why is an 11-foot concert grand better than a studio upright? Because is makes a much bigger kaboom when dropped over a cliff.

? Why was the piano invented? So that the musician would have a place to put his beer.

? Why did they say that the pianist had fingers like lightning? They never struck the same place twice.

? What did they find when they dug up Beethoven's grave? He was decomposing.

? Why did Mozart kill his chicken? Because they always ran around going, &quot;Bach! Bach! Bach!&quot;

? Imagine a singer, a piano player, a bass player and a drummer sitting around the table. Now if you drop a hundred-dollar bill right in the middle and tell them they're free to take it, who's getting it? The piano player. Because the bass player is too slow, for the winger it's too little money and the drummer didn't get the assignment.

Now that we've seen the humor under the keyboards, the piano and the pianists are not as elusive as they seem to be. It is just like discovering a new type of music. The piano and the pianist can take not just the breath out of the audiences but also the laughter as they present not only fine music but terrific humor as well. Having fun is what life is all about.

About The Author

The writer Ismael D. Tabije runs the website <a href="http://pianos.e-mart4all.com" target="_new">http://pianos.e-mart4all.com</a> that markets a wide choice of high-quality digital pianos and accessories at the lowest prices in the online market. Brands sold include Casio, Yamaha, Korg, Kurzweil and Roland. The website also features interesting piano articles about piano humor, trivia, myths and facts and even piano lessons and instructions.

Pee Here Now

Several years ago, I switched health insurance companies and my new insurer sent a uniformed nurse with short black hair to my house to conduct a health assessment. We sat at my kitchen table and she officiously asked questions about my health history.

"Diabetes?" she asked, as if accusing me of illicit drug use.

"No," I answered.

"Cancer?" Nope.

"High blood pressure?" Nope.

When she'd completed the questionnaire, she reached into a portable metal case and retrieved a white plastic cup. "Last thing I'll need is a urine sample," she said, sliding the cup toward me across the wooden table.

I took the cup to my bathroom, set it on the white tile counter, unzipped my jeans, sat down, and promptly started thinking about something else. Many long seconds later, I stood, re-zipped my jeans, and, still absorbed in my thoughts, looked down to find the empty plastic cup waiting on the tile counter.

My consciousness careened back to the present. The cup!! How could I forget to fill the cup?!! I picked it up and held it at eye level. The cup seemed larger somehow, and infinitely unfillable, like a gigantic movie prop from "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids." I set it back down and considered my options.

I could fill the cup with water and "trip" on my way out of the bathroom. I could invent an excuse involving dehydration or bladder shyness. I could wedge through the narrow window above the bathtub and flee to the airport.

Realizing none of these schemes would work, I ultimately had to admit to the nurse that I'd forgotten what I'd gone to the bathroom for. "I can drink a bunch of water and try again in a few minutes," I offered.

"That's okay," she said, grabbing the empty cup and dropping it into her metal box. "I'll come back tomorrow. I have nothing better to do."

I'd like to report this was an aberrant bout of absent-mindedness, something that could be chalked up to cold medication or a fight with my mother. But the fact is, I tend to forget. A lot. And it's getting worse.

In the last several months, I've left my purse in two Mexican restaurants, a coffee shop, the trunk of a friend's car, and a department store dressing room. Two weeks ago, I removed a nozzle from my garden hose and spent the latter part of that afternoon trying, in vain, to discover where I'd placed it.

The scary part for me is that over the last few months I've also been going to a Zen Center in an effort to practice meditation and mindfulness. One of my goals has been to become less forgetful by being more fully present. Or, to paraphrase a popular Buddhist saying, "To pee here now."

But I've even forgotten things at the Zen Center, like the time I misplaced my purse before an important ceremony and had nothing to contribute to the fight against world hunger.

The increasing bouts of absent-mindedness had been worrying me, and the jokes from friends about early Alzheimer's were starting to be not so hilarious. But last week I got some valuable insight into absent-mindedness when I completed an assessment called the Gregore Style Delineator.

This assessment groups people into four types based on how they value certain words. The word "lively," for example, struck me as more appealing than "rational." I liked the word "spontaneous" better than "trouble shooter."

When the results of my word valuations were tabulated, I was shown to be a clear "Abstract Random," whose negative characteristics include a proclivity towards "flightiness," and an inattention to detail which often earns them the title of -- and I'm quoting directly from the assessment -- "an off-the-wall flake."

However, in reviewing the assessment, I learned there are several good reasons why Abstract Randoms -- "A-Rs" for short -- appear so flighty. For starters, and I'm bragging only a little here, A-Rs have vivid imaginations, a tremendous capacity to absorb and relate seemingly unrelated facts, and they often divert their attention only to that which has personal meaning. (A urine cup? I don't think so.)

Furthermore, A-Rs rarely work in a sterile office with an orderly desk. Instead, and I plead guilty, the office of an A-R is located in whatever coffee shop she happens to be working in. Her filing cabinet is in her head.

Needless to say, I found these results reassuring. As a journalist, I'm paid to find connections between people and the events that surround them. Thus, I have to spend time musing about life and what it means, and sometimes the best time for musing is when I'm doing some other mindless task. So what if I forget a purse in the process?

All of this has gotten me to thinking about something I learned in a novel writing class and that is that a character's greatest strength is also her biggest weakness.

It's certainly true in my case, but it's also true of many people: the brilliant physician who focuses so intently on healing a patient's body that he neglects to comfort her soul; the quick-thinking marketing whiz who's hugely intolerant of people who don't "get it" as quickly as he does. Even Einstein, from what I hear, couldn't remember his own address or phone number.

The point I'm trying to make, and I'm not at all defensive about this, is that no one is strong in all facets of human behavior. Some of us are good with people, others with data; some are logical, others reactive; some pay attention, others? what were we talking about? Anyway, chances are, the better you are at one end of the spectrum, the worse you'll be at the other. How many visual artists do you know who could run an accounting firm?

Instead of judging a person's weaknesses, wouldn't it be kinder to recognize her strengths and offer to drive her to the restaurant where she left her car keys the night before? I think so.

Copyright, 2005, Shari Caudron.

Shari Caudron is an award-winning columnist, writing coach, and author of &quot;What Really Happened,&quot; a collection of humorous stories about the lessons life teaches you when you least expect it. Shari regularly delivers speeches to women's groups about how to transform ordinary experiences into opportunities for personal growth. Website: <a target="_new" href="http://www.sharicaudron.com">http://www.sharicaudron.com</a> e-mail: <a href="mailto:shari@sharicaudron.com">shari@sharicaudron.com</a>

Sell [Your] Phones

Today while driving I saw a young girl, probably around 11 years old, on a cell phone. She was walking along the side of the street talking to someone, and I couldn't help but think that maybe she was talking to someone across the street because she wasn't allowed to cross it. Whatever the reason, though, there is something about an 11-year-old on a cell phone that legitimately scares me, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she is probably getting more calls than I am...

I always (for the past five minutes) thought it would be interesting if the transmissions from cell phones could be visible, so that I could look out the window right now and see all the words that are being passed from one phone to another. Another added plus of the words being visible is that I could reach into the air and take away the ones that I don't like, therefore completely changing people's conversations. With me controlling the airwaves, people would never use cell phones again, and we would no longer have to worry about walking down the street and being hit with a &quot;hello,&quot; or a &quot;goodbye,&quot; or a &quot;he needs to stop messing with my mother's wounded llama,&quot; the latter of which would be a sentence that I formed based on stealing certain key words from zookeepers' conversations...

I always wondered - as has everyone - what it is like when two zookeepers got together. Do they act like party animals? Maybe go ape? If two zookeepers are reading this column simultaneously, I think an e-mail is in order. But I will only read this correspondence if both zookeepers have equal say in the wording...

Back to my complaints about cell phones, though. If I am unable to control the words soaring through the air, I would at least like to take a visit to a central satellite which serves as the basis for cellular conversations. I am thinking that if I point the satellite in a different direction, this would cause each person to call people they normally would never call, like the kid in homeroom who said he'll &quot;keep in touch,&quot; or that telemarketer you said you'd get back to at some point. Better yet, perhaps I can point the satellite in the direction that forces each person to only call his or her own phone, which would be a useful concept in the Dakotas, where there aren't a lot of people to converse with anyway...

With this accomplished, I'd also like to set up a pen pal system amongst the residents of North and South Dakota. I don't necessarily think they should send letters to each other, but I believe they should trade pens on a weekly basis. This kind of sharing will prove valuable in the unity of the states, as well in the general maintenance of ink and the management thereof...

Such a program will be coordinated by an 11-year-old on a cell phone...

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

Essential Laughter

Take time to laugh at yourself and the ridiculous in life. It is so refreshing to just laugh at your slips, peculiarities, forgetfulness, and fumbles. Humor has the power to dull the sharp edges of life and is a great tension reliever. Laughter stimulates the soul and boosts the immune system.

There are medical researchers who assert that laughter reduces levels of certain stress hormones. But, beyond this, laughter is curative. It is just good medicine for the sluggish spirit and an effective weapon against despair. It is like perfumed oil to the soul and brings joy to the spirit.

Do not take everything people say and do so seriously. Stop wearing your feelings on your sleeves. Sometimes, it is emotionally prosperous to just smile at the ridiculous, grin at the obnoxious and laugh at the absurd. Transform life's &quot;ugh&quot; into laughter. It was Sterne who asserted, &quot;I live in a constant endeavor to fence against the infirmities of ill-health, and other evils of life, by humor. I am persuaded that every time a man smiles ? but much more so when he laughs ? it adds something to this fragment of life.&quot; Let the gift of laughter enhance your life.

In the midst of problematic situations, steal moments of humor. You will be astonished to find that for those moments, your problems disappear. For those few moments, your problems do not exist in your reality and life is wonderful. When the humorous moments pass, the problems no longer seem as monumental as you thought. Embrace humor. Come on now, liven up!

THE ACQUITTAL

Mrs. Graite had reached her limit;
The pain no more could bear.
Her pastor's boring sermons
Had led her to mad despair.

She invited him to dinner;
Prepared tasty veal.
Suspecting something was not right
He refused to eat the meal.

She thought, as she was led away
In handcuffs to a cell,
"No more boring sermons
Is worth all my time in jail."

But her prison term was short
'Cause the jury heard a tape,
Of the preacher's boring sermons
And acquitted Mrs Graite.

This poem is taken from "Room Beneath the Snow: Poems that Preach."

Rev. Saundra L. Washington, D.D., is an ordained clergywoman, social worker, and Founder of AMEN Ministries. <a target="_new" href="http://www.clergyservices4u.org">http://www.clergyservices4u.org.</a> She is also the author of two coffee table books: Room Beneath the Snow: Poems that Preach and Negative Disturbances: Homilies that Teach. Her new book, Out of Deep Waters: My Grief Management Workbook, will be available soon.

When Humans and Dogs Collide: Negotiations for Todays Changing Times

This morning I decided to find myself. I originally looked forward to the spiritual journey that would define who I was as a person. But then I looked into my mirror and realized that the person I saw in that mirror was me. So I then figured, why spend all this time finding myself when I already know where I am?

Since I allotted around 80 years for this quest and finished it in about eight seconds, I had some free time that I needed to devote to a cause. I had a great idea: I would purposely drop a dog so that the owner of that dog would ask me what I was doing, to which I could respond, &quot;Well, my cause was to see your reaction and my effect was, indeed, your reaction.&quot; This would make my cause and effect almost the same. But I had to give up on trying this experiment, because - after all - where would I possibly find a dog?

Dogs are funny individuals in that people claim to love them, but when it comes down to it, we have so many negative terms which revolve around them. For example, if you are told that you are being sent to the doghouse, that doesn't mean you are being tossed to an area of luxury. More so, you will be sent to the same place as the dog, some small area consisting of a leaky roof and a food bowl. Although owners try to convince their dogs that this is some sort of fantasy land, the reality is that most owners wouldn't want to spend more than 15 minutes in one. Those who do spend more than 15 minutes are only doing so because they are stuck in the location...

On the other hand, we also have the sporting statement, &quot;Hey, buddy, I dogged you in that race.&quot; Of course the statement can exist without the &quot;hey, buddy,&quot; but what fun would that be? Such a statement means, basically, that one person defeated the other in a race in such a way that a dog would defeat a human. Now, this is the opposite of the doghouse reputation, because here the dogs are given more credit than humans as opposed to less. This could only mean one thing: the dogs negotiated this with the humans in order to assure respect from the general populace...

But who are these dogs? And, more importantly, who were the humans asked to negotiate? I don't have a problem with dogs, but if we are going to negotiate with them, I think we should send some of our best humans to do so. Otherwise, imagine the potential chaos:

Human: Okay, so let's negotiate here.

Dog: How about you give us the power to speak, like I am right now, and we will allow you to rename tree covering to &quot;speak&quot; instead of &quot;bark&quot;?

Human: You are too fair. Let's do that immediately. But to make sure you are not getting ripped off, we will throw in some table scraps from an all-you-can-eat-restaurant where everyone thinks they are bigger eaters than they really are.

Dog: Agreed.

Human: Bark!

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

Valet Parking: Theft with Consent

This column is long overdue. To put it in library terms, which I guess I already did (but I'd like to elaborate), this column is like checking out a book in 1998 but not returning it until yesterday. And by yesterday, I really mean tomorrow. This analogy will only grow as time continues because yesterday and tomorrow are both relative terms. I can't wait until the space creatures read this in the year 2577. Maybe they will e-mail me when they do, just so I feel like my previous sentence came with a purpose...

As far as my purpose, I'd like to address the issue of valet parking this week because, quite frankly, I think it's the worst system in the world. If I was still on that library kick, I'd add that Dewey Decimal - if that is his real name - would be laughing in his grave. Now I understand that this is a &quot;fancy&quot; way to park because someone is doing the parking for you, and anytime someone does something for you, it's automatically fancy. The same ideology is what makes room service more than just expensive food. I also know the argument that valet parking is a privilege, because instead of having to park your own car into a visibly tight spot, some random person will park your car into an area that you can't see because that's how special it is. Privileges aside, this worries me because if you took away the voluntary nature of the system, it would be considered grand theft auto...

That's right - valet parking is the one time when we are basically telling a stranger, &quot;Go ahead, steal my car. I trust that it'll be here later.&quot; And sure, virtually 100% of the time it is. But what about that 0% of the time when your car just isn't there and that valet parker turns out to be a person who knows how to find the appropriate attire online? Furthermore, what is the guarantee that your stuff inside the car will still be there? This is a time period when the valet can do anything he wants with your car - change the radio station, eat your food, kill your friend still sitting in the passenger seat - so we need to think more carefully about why we continue to utilize this system...

Some would say that the system is faster, but oftentimes the self-parking area is right next to the valet. Others would add that valet allows someone else to hold your keys, and if that is supposed to be a good thing, then why don't we just hand in our wallets at the door as well? So, when it comes down to it, speed and convenience aren't prominent enough to be used as valid evidence (I am really tackling the legal terms in this column)...

To prove the risk of valet parking further, I must question why we don't hire random house sitters. You know, just stop a passerby and ask him to stay at your house for three days while you're gone, and in return you'll let him eat all the fish sticks from the freezer he wants - even though you don't have a freezer - and he can pet your dog twice. Or, since I'm on the animal kick, why don't people who walk their dogs in a park just switch dogs temporarily with someone else? This is essentially what valet parking is, except that parking isn't a two-way trade. If it were a two-way system, I guess that would have to be called &quot;parallel&quot; parking, but I'll have to save that for a different column (note to self: please don't)...

Unless required by law or the front-seat passenger, I will continue to park my own car. I am not implying that I want valets to lose their jobs. Rather, I am just noting that I don't want them to do anything. I guess that would make them government officials...

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

Coffee Tips (and the Elimination Thereof)

I have recently become frustrated with something at doughnut establishments, and I'm not referring to the scones, although -- seriously -- just think about the writing possibilities if I were. Rather, it's the tip cup that bothers me...

To begin, I do realize that doughnut (or donut, take your pick) shops aren't the only places with these cups. But for the sake of this column, I need to be oblivious to all of the other ones in order to keep some sort of focus, so bear with me here...

Yogi: That's right, I am.

Smokey: Me too

At any rate, my first question is what we are tipping when we contribute extra change, sometimes even dollar bills, into the doughnut tip cup. Is it the way the employees stretch to grab the lemon-filled that is so challenging, or is coffee pouring more of an art than I thought it was? The thing is, I always end up tipping because it's become an obligation rather than a choice. Blood and jelly are the same color and I realize that...

Still, this tip cup could have its advantages. For example, doughnut establishments could use the money to fund research in the creation of new doughnuts. Personally, I'd like to know that my extra 15 cents per day was putting some college intern hard to work in order to find out if sprinkles really do taste better when they're multi-colored, or to see if cr?me mixed with pickle juice is such a bad idea after all. And then, when this research is complete (and thorough), I want to see my name somewhere on the official document...

Doughnut Shop Owner: Wait a minute, wait a minute -- you are getting way too carried away.

Greg: So are you. And it's about time someone stood up for the doughnut consumers of America.

Owner: That's ironic, considering most of them sit down.

Greg: True. But that's besides the point. I will only stop writing when you tell me why the tip cup is there.

Owner: I will, but I need you to keep this is a secret, okay?

Greg: Sounds good to me.

Owner: You see, we need advice -- like, really serious advice. And so we put that tip cup there hoping that we'd get it, and unfortunately people are missing the point.

Greg: Oh, I see. Well, I have some advice for you, sir.

Owner: Thank you, what is it?

Greg: Well, it'll cost you 50 cents...

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

Cant Get There From Here

<P class=MsoNormal style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt; TEXT-ALIGN: center" align=center><B style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Can't Get There From Here</B>



Juneau is the capital of Alaska, but did you know that you cannot drive there from anywhere?



You can fly into Juneau or you can take a ferry to Juneau, but you can't actually drive there. There are no roads into Juneau. Can you imagine not being able to drive to the State Capital in the state where you live?



Normally, a lot of business and a lot of government takes place in a state's Capital. Not having easy access to it would create lots of problems, wouldn't it? Well, not in Alaska.



In fact, up until a few years ago Juneau was two time zones or more away from the rest of the state. A few years ago Alaska had five time zones. Now we have only two time zones and our Capital is now in the same time zone as most of the state.



Governor Frank Murkowski has a transportation plan that would include the building of a 65 mile road from Juneau to Skagway by the year 2010. That would connect Juneau by road to Anchorage, Fairbanks, and much of Alaska.



Of course, you would have to drive through part of Canada to get to Skagway. Not a big deal, since Canada still likes us.



However, many Alaskans are not too thrilled by the idea of building an expensive road to Juneau. According to Skagway business owner, Jan Wrentmore, &quot;It will be as stupid an idea in 2010 as it is now.&quot;



Part of the issue is that Skagway and Haines depend on the marine ferry system for business, since Skagway and Haines are the northernmost terminus for tourists who want to disembark the ferry and drive. The fear is that Juneau would become the northernmost stopping point for the ferry if a road is built from Juneau to Skagway.



&quot;We lose our status of what we've had for 100 years,&quot; said Jan Wrentmore. &quot;It creates a competing port.&quot;



Of course, the rest of Alaska doesn't really care about the competing port issue. The point is that the rest of Alaska doesn't really care about the whole issue. Our legislators at the State Capital seem to get along just fine the way things are currently.



Change comes slowly in Alaska and I would guess that this issue will be talked about for a good many more years to come.



If we talk about it long enough, eventually it will become a mute issue. We won't need a road. Eventually we'll be able to teleport ourselves to the Capital if we wish.



Beam me up Governor.

*****************************

Garry Gamber is a public school teacher and entrepreneur. He writes articles about real estate, health and nutrition, and internet dating services. He is the owner of <A target="_new" href="http://www.anchorage-homes.com/" target=_new>www.Anchorage-Homes.com</A> and <A href="http://www.thedatingadvisor.com/" target=_new>www.TheDatingAdvisor.com</A>.

Dog Poo - And You Thought You Had Problems

In Southern Germany in a town by the name of Bayreuth, the German police are in a quandary. The town's dog poo is under attack. Park officials are desperate to resolve what could become an international incident. Unknown person or persons have been sticking little US flags into piles of doggie poo for over a year now.

Surprisingly the dog poo brigade has managed to target between 2,000 to 3,000 abandoned piles of excrement in Bayreuth public parks. Quite who actually counted them all and provided these statistics is debatable but the source is rumoured as coming from the Parks Administrator ? Josef Oettl. And you wondered what your parkie did each day?

What was thought to have started as a protest against the Iraqi war has continued through the US election campaign and is still a regular occurrence today. Have the German's not heard of poop a scoop? Surely all self respecting German citizens collect their doggie poo. Poop in the parks and pavements was surely just a British thing?

German police are now stepping up patrols in order to catch these offenders. However, the poo could hit the fan if they ever tried to bring them to court. It is unclear what they would actually charge them with as there is no law against using doggie poo in this way. In fact, you could fly any flag from any piece of turd you find lying around. It's not illegal but it cannot be a pleasant task.

Surely this wouldn't catch on over here in the UK ? would it?

From Birmingham UK Com. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.birminghamuk.com">http://www.birminghamuk.com</a>)

The Patience of Job

Voltaire said, &quot;God is a comedian playing to an audience afraid to laugh.&quot; Translated, if you're a tight ass, there's a two drink minimum to read this article.



Let me just say, I believe in God but like many, I've questioned His existence. Most people will say the reason they doubt God's existence is because, &quot;If there's a God, why is there so much suffering, and why is there war?&quot; Blah, Blah, blah, blah blah?



My sole reason for doubting the existence of God is work. (I, however, never question the existence of a higher power for I worship at his altar every day from 9 to 5.)



If there is a God why do we not have five-day weekends and two-day workweeks? He's God. He can make it happen. In God we trust, right? Well I trust in God to give us a five-day weekend.



Think of the positives of a two-day work week. You'd say things like, &quot;Wow, that workweek really flew bye.&quot;



Think of what it would do for the economy because as Americans what are we really, but consumers? Think of it this way. If the United States Senate can get away with only working 110 days a year, why can't we?



Women will have five full days a week to shop, and tell men what to do. Maybe, just maybe, we'll have more time to spend with our kids so they don't remain a bunch of illiterate crack heads.



More people might believe in heaven because life on earth won't be such a living hell.



I believe, with faith, God will grant us my wish. Let me illustrate through the Bible. Isn't it ironic that in the book of the Bible where the name of the person who suffers the most is spelled J.O.B.?



The story of Job is one of perseverance. Job is given leprosy, has his family, money and worldly possessions taken from him and it's all a test of faith. It is a horrible story! I didn't like it when I read it but I said. &quot;Fine, He's God. He can do what He wants. After all, it is His world. Like Job, who am I to question?&quot;



What I can question are employers playing the part of God by expecting us to have the patience of Job in order to keep our job. They may not be giving us infectious diseases but they are sure taking our money, ruining our personal lives, and making work a living hell. (Personally, I don't have the patience of Job. I'm like the Prodigal Son--at the first sign of a party I'm off to the fatted cow happy hour for half-price matzoh and dollar shots of Manishevitz. If I need some bread I'll come back in the morning crawling on my hands and knees.)



In the Book of Job, Job finally said, &quot;Hey God, how bout a little something for the effort?&quot; God responded, &quot;Don't question my authority but you're right. I have been a little harsh on you.&quot; Job then had all his riches returned ten-fold. Now that's pretty just, is it not?



Well, I'm asking, &quot;Hey God, how bout a five-day weekend, for the heck of it?&quot; (If you see me on the golf course mid-week you'll know God answered my prayers.)

Michael P. Westhead is the founder of <A target="_new" href="http://www.cutthroatcomedy.com">www.cutthroatcomedy.com</A> which features original quotes, jokes, cartoons, products, and articles focusing on politics, current events and life in general.

Eye Spy Potatoes

Lately I've had the problem of falling asleep with my contact lenses still in my eyes. And by "lately," I mean for the past seven years. This, in a lot of ways, is the pinnacle of laziness because the removal of contacts takes no more than a minute or two, or three hours if it's your first time. But I've come to the conclusion this morning that there is a reason I fail to remove the contacts: deep down, I am hoping to find certain people in my dreams. So if I have the contacts on my eyes, then perhaps my eyes will be able to contact them. Isn't logic wonderful? I am pretty sure, in fact, that if I never remove my contacts, a telephone may become a thing of the past...

If we really do follow logic with our eyes, then why don't we use potatoes as optometrists? Any vegetable with that many eyes must have good sight. The only thing we'd have to worry about is their communication skills, because I've yet to hear a potato talk, especially not in full sentences. Plus, we need to get rid of the negative stereotypes of potatoes caused by Mr. Potato Head, who never seems to have his feet or arms in the right place. Quite honestly, I don't think we can trust something -- or someone -- like that with our vision. Truly you'd be able to say that nobody "nose" the trouble if your nose is in an eye socket...

If the trust does accumulate, I think we need to assure the general population that not only will these potatoes test our eye sight, but they will also help to remove pointy objects, such as broken light bulbs from lamps. Imagine the possible diagnosis: "Well, your eyes are good, but your lamp is going to have to stay here for another 24 hours. You can never be careful, you know."

Speaking of columns going nowhere, I think most rabbits have more money than people realize, with all those carrots and whatnot. The thing is, what is a rabbit supposed to do with money? This question leads me to think that rabbits need financial advisers who will take care of money matters and tell them that money does matter, but then tell them the opposite once they invest half of their money and lose it. Bugs and Roger would be proud...

In conclusion, I must stop falling asleep with contacts in my eyes, because eventually such an action will cause me to write very bad columns about rabbits and money. Luckily I don't think that will happen for quite some time...

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

Discover the Lighter Side of the Internet

We all know the Internet is a great tool for finding out information and sharing knowledge. But as a human sometimes sitting at a computer all day can get quite tedious, especially if it is your job 5 days a week. This feeling can be compounded by other problems in one's personal life, and the result can mean little productivity because of a sour mood. Well humanity does have a lighter side, and this too can be explored on the Internet. Sometimes a little humor or interesting trivia can really take the edge off a bad moment. You'd be surprised at how much comedy and insight is expressed on the Net. I've been exploring what's out there and I just can't stop laughing. Laughter of course is the ultimate medicine and some believe it to be the highest form of life. My only warning is don't get hooked on this stuff as your work ethic will probably become worse than ever! Now, there's a lot of stuff on the Net and not all of it is positive humor, but you can surf around the undesirable stuff with ease. To give you an idea of some funny sites I discovered, here is a short list but I'm sure there are thousands of others you can find by doing simple word searches: <A target="_new" href="http://www.bored.com">www.bored.com</A>, <A target="_new" href="http://www.linkydinky.com">www.linkydinky.com</A>, <A target="_new" href="http://www.chickenjoke.com">www.chickenjoke.com</A>, <A target="_new" href="http://www.crazyfads.com">www.crazyfads.com</A>, <A href="http://www.crazythoughts.com">www.crazythoughts.com</A>, <A target="_new" href="http://www.dancingbush.com">www.dancingbush.com</A>, and <A target="_new" href="http://www.stupidvideos.com">www.stupidvideos.com</A>. I really advise checking out the last site and watching the video entitled 'Evil penguin2'. This nearly brought tears to my eyes as I already have a soft spot for penguins. So, you've got jokes, funny videos, kooky trivia, strange thoughts and perspectives on different aspects of life, and even the most 'powerful' man on Earth-George Bush doing an animated dance imitating John Travolta in 'Saturday Night Fever'. You've really got no reason anymore to sit in front of your computer worrying and wallowing in self-pity. I've always thought that humans have put too much emphasis on technological development as opposed to the spiritual side of things. This comedic aspect to the Internet has shown me that people can also be quite clever in more lighthearted endeavors. Some of the ideas on these sites really flip the world upside down and make you question why we do the things the way we do. This could be considered a step forward in our evolution as we see the underlying truths in our cultural systems. Laughter is the key to humanity reaching a higher level of consciousness. Imagine if everyone on our planet could all be happy enough in one moment to laugh at the same time. The Earth would shake, the seas would rise, and all the animals would stop what they're doing to join in. The vibration would probably cause a ripple to flow out into space affecting other planetary systems. Then, imagine all the beings of the Universe laughing at one time. We're talking serious celebrations! We're talking about black holes folding in on themselves in result of the positive energy wave forces demolishing all negative forces in their path! It's called the Laughter Revolution, and it might just be the next step for you to take to reach that long awaited goal of happiness. Come on, take a look around, there's a whole world of funniness just under the surface of our perceived 'normal' reality. We have to wake up and smell the cheese?Oh the sweet cheese.

Jesse S. Somer<BR>M6.Net <A target="_new" href="http://www.m6.net">http://www.m6.net</A><BR>Jesse S. Somer is a 'laughing boy' hoping to utilize the human-packed comedy hidden in the Internet to morph into a 'laughing man'. He also hopes to incite others to join in the Laughter Revolution that one day will spread across planet Earth.

Beyond Black and White

Over visiting a neighbor the other day?

&quot;Would you like a cup of coffee?&quot; he asks. &quot;I just roasted the latest batch.&quot;

&quot;Yes. Coffee sounds great.&quot;

&quot;How do you take it?&quot; he asks as he grinds the beans.

&quot;Black; no sugar, no milk.&quot;

&quot;Well, we have no milk anyway, only cream.&quot;

&quot;In that case, I'll have it with no cream.&quot;

&quot;We could water the cream down to make milk, I suppose, if you'd prefer.&quot;

&quot;That's ok,&quot; I say, &quot;No cream is better than no milk anyway.&quot;

&quot;Well, actually, I prefer cream also,&quot; he says, &quot;but like you, I don't put it in my coffee.&quot;

&quot;What about milk?&quot; I ask.

&quot;Never.&quot;

&quot;Unless it's a caf? au lait?&quot; I venture.

&quot;Of course,&quot; says he, &quot;or a cappuccino.&quot;

&quot;Exactly.&quot; I say.

&quot;Just so.&quot;

&quot;Sartre sans sucre?&quot; I ask.

&quot;No. Nein. Niet-zsche, pas de lait.&quot; He gets in the last word. Almost.

I sip my coffee (black) in silence (white).

"Ever wonder where coffee originated?" he queries after a spell.

"Brazil?" I guess, "or somewhere in the Americas?"

"Not so," he replies, "Some say it was in Yemen, the Port of Mocha. Others say it was Ethiopia, in the district of Kaffa. In any case, it is Arabian."

"Aha, I say, "hence The Thousand and One Sleepless Nights."

"Just so," he says and silence returns

? Leslie Fieger. All rights reserved worldwide.

Leslie is the author of The DELFIN Knowledge System Trilogy: The Initiation, The Journey and The Quest plus many more success publications. He also the co-author of The End of the World with Hugh Jeffries and Alexandra's DragonFire with his daughter Ashley. Subscribe to his free and ad-free eZine at <a target="_new" href="http://www.ProsperityParadigm.com">http://www.ProsperityParadigm.com</a> or <a target="_new" href="http://www.LeslieFieger.com">http://www.LeslieFieger.com</a>

Reprinting and republishing of these articles is granted only with the above credit included. Permission to reprint or republish does not waive any copyright.

Saving SpongeBob Using High Tech

Put Active RFID Satellite Tags in SpongeBobs

SpongeBob has been in the news a lot lately, he has been a kidnapped Victim. Instead of wasting time with an Amber Alert for SpongeBob, why not put an Active RFID Satellite Tags in the SpongeBobs so we can track them to the culprits.

This would surely be a major deterrent to the kidnappers.

Such a plan would insure the safe return of Hostages such as SpongeBob and catch the people terrorizing him?

SpongeBob needs protection and apparently we could use some practice catching kidnappers and those who terrorize our most valuable people?

Apparently the temptation to break one's ethical code is easy if you reduce the crime of theft or kidnapping to a prank? Catching these thieves who steal the SpongeBob using the latest technology makes a lot of sense.

SpongeBob has been found on top of Fraternity Houses, floating in the lake and even left for dead along the roadside.

With modern technology, we can save him, Active RFID technology has come a long way and the price per tag is coming down to make it a valuable tool to re-capture SpongeBob until the next prankster removes him again from his happy home.

"Lance Winslow" - If you have innovative thoughts and unique perspectives, come think with Lance; <a target="_new" href="http://www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs">www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs</a>

The Patience of Job

Voltaire said, &quot;God is a comedian playing to an audience afraid to laugh.&quot; Translated, if you're a tight ass, there's a two drink minimum to read this article.



Let me just say, I believe in God but like many, I've questioned His existence. Most people will say the reason they doubt God's existence is because, &quot;If there's a God, why is there so much suffering, and why is there war?&quot; Blah, Blah, blah, blah blah?



My sole reason for doubting the existence of God is work. (I, however, never question the existence of a higher power for I worship at his altar every day from 9 to 5.)



If there is a God why do we not have five-day weekends and two-day workweeks? He's God. He can make it happen. In God we trust, right? Well I trust in God to give us a five-day weekend.



Think of the positives of a two-day work week. You'd say things like, &quot;Wow, that workweek really flew bye.&quot;



Think of what it would do for the economy because as Americans what are we really, but consumers? Think of it this way. If the United States Senate can get away with only working 110 days a year, why can't we?



Women will have five full days a week to shop, and tell men what to do. Maybe, just maybe, we'll have more time to spend with our kids so they don't remain a bunch of illiterate crack heads.



More people might believe in heaven because life on earth won't be such a living hell.



I believe, with faith, God will grant us my wish. Let me illustrate through the Bible. Isn't it ironic that in the book of the Bible where the name of the person who suffers the most is spelled J.O.B.?



The story of Job is one of perseverance. Job is given leprosy, has his family, money and worldly possessions taken from him and it's all a test of faith. It is a horrible story! I didn't like it when I read it but I said. &quot;Fine, He's God. He can do what He wants. After all, it is His world. Like Job, who am I to question?&quot;



What I can question are employers playing the part of God by expecting us to have the patience of Job in order to keep our job. They may not be giving us infectious diseases but they are sure taking our money, ruining our personal lives, and making work a living hell. (Personally, I don't have the patience of Job. I'm like the Prodigal Son--at the first sign of a party I'm off to the fatted cow happy hour for half-price matzoh and dollar shots of Manishevitz. If I need some bread I'll come back in the morning crawling on my hands and knees.)



In the Book of Job, Job finally said, &quot;Hey God, how bout a little something for the effort?&quot; God responded, &quot;Don't question my authority but you're right. I have been a little harsh on you.&quot; Job then had all his riches returned ten-fold. Now that's pretty just, is it not?



Well, I'm asking, &quot;Hey God, how bout a five-day weekend, for the heck of it?&quot; (If you see me on the golf course mid-week you'll know God answered my prayers.)

Michael P. Westhead is the founder of <A target="_new" href="http://www.cutthroatcomedy.com">www.cutthroatcomedy.com</A> which features original quotes, jokes, cartoons, products, and articles focusing on politics, current events and life in general.

Not Your Average Sunday Morning

Just recently my ex-husband stopped in to visit during his vacation. In the course of small talk, a few old memories usually crop up in the conversation. One that instantly came to mind was the day our second son was born.

It was early Sunday morning on a crisp day in the middle of May when I was awakened from my sleep by what I knew to be labor pains. Since it was my second pregnancy I was not alarmed. I already had one child so I felt like an old pro. I knew it was early labor and I had plenty of time before heading off to the hospital. I decided to let my husband, Jim, sleep a little longer. After all, there was no need to awaken him yet.

I slipped quietly out of bed and went to the bathroom to relieve the pressure from my heavily burdened bladder. After washing my hands and face, I brushed my teeth then went into the kitchen to make the morning coffee. I poured myself a steaming cup, retrieved the newspaper from the side porch, then sat down at the kitchen table to look over the headlines. After glancing at the morning news, I poured myself a second cup of coffee and slipped quietly back into the bedroom to get dressed. Jim was still sleeping soundly. I took my already packed overnight bag from the closet and carried it to the living room. I placed it beside the door so that we could just grab it when we were ready to leave. Then I returned to the kitchen to make breakfast for Jim.

My sixteen month old son was spending the weekend with my husband's mother and stepfather. My mother-in-law, Eileen, had insisted on keeping him since she just knew I would go into labor during the weekend. She calculated this prediction due to the fact that I was six days past my due date. After placing the scrambled eggs and sausage links on the plate, I went into the bedroom to wake Jim up, who was still snoring peacefully.

"Morning honey," I said as I kissed him on the forehead. "Get up. Breakfast is ready."

"Morning babe," Jim replied. He sat up, ran his hand through his dishwater blonde hair then stumbled to the kitchen table. He didn't bother to get dressed and since it was only the two of us, I figured it was okay for him to eat in his underwear.

The contractions were getting stronger. My husband gobbled down his food then headed for the bathroom. (No. It wasn't the effects of my cooking!) As I cleaned off the table, I felt the grasp of a contraction, then a sudden warmth of fluid. I leaned against the sink. Jim came out of the bathroom looking relieved but that only lasted momentarily. Glancing over at him, I said, "It's time. My water broke."

"Oh God!," he said. "I have to find a ride. I have to get you to the hospital. (Our car was in the shop for repairs at the time.)

"Calm down," I said. "We have time."

"Time!," my husband shouted. "What time is it? Oh God! I have to catch Lisa before she goes to church." And with that said, he took off out the side door and down the steps. I followed him to the porch. "Honey," I called. "Jim," I yelled, but he was already gone. All I could do was laugh and hope that none of the neighbors called the police on the tall, slender man running down the street in his white Fruit of the Loom briefs!

Lisa was my husband's cousin. She and her husband lived down at the end of our street. I've never been quite sure why Jim ran to her house instead of calling her. It must have just been his first reaction. Although the contractions were stronger now I couldn't hold back from laughing when Jim returned. He was wearing a pair of pants that were entirely too short and he had to hold them tightly around his waist to keep them from falling down. He looked hysterical! It reminded me of the episode from the old Dick Van Dyke show when Laura went in labor! I insisted he change pants before we left for the hospital. Lisa had given Jim the keys to her car and told him to drive carefully. We had two stops to make before going to the hospital - to pick up our mothers. They both wanted to be there and I figured my husband could use their support.

We arrived at my mother's house first. She jumped in the car so quickly I wasn't really sure the vehicle had come to a complete stop. It wasn't until we reached my mother-in-law's home that we realized my mother was still in her nightgown! We all exited the car and went into the house in hopes that my mother-in-law could provide my mother with something more appropriate to wear. While I was in the kitchen talking with my husband's stepfather, we heard a car going down the driveway. Looking out the window, we realized that Jim and his passengers had left for the hospital - without me! My mother had grabbed a bathrobe from a hook on the inside of the bathroom door to cover her nightgown. My mother-in-law left with one side of her head still rolled in foam curlers and the other side displaying loose, bouncy curls. And the three of them were off!

They actually didn't realize they had forgotten me until they arrived at the hospital. Luckily for me, the hospital was only a few minutes away. Yes, they did return, pick me up and deliver me safely to the hospital. Shortly afterward, I delivered a healthy seven pound fourteen ounce son. Mother and child were fine. But I think my husband and our mothers were a little worse for wear!

Darlene Zagata is a freelance writer and columnist for the print publication Moon Shadows Magazine. She is also the author of "Aftertaste: A Collection of Poems" and "The Choosing." Her work has been published extensively both online and in print. For more information visit her website at <a target="_new" href="http://darlenezagata.tripod.com">http://darlenezagata.tripod.com</a> or contact Darlene at <a href="mailto:darzagata@yahoo.com">darzagata@yahoo.com</a>

Poor Rixs Almanac 8-13-05

Dear Poor Rix: A guy just invited me to a football game. I do not understand this event. Can you explain it? -- Sport Watcher

This game begins with the entrance of referees, people with striped shirts who enforce the rules. Occasionally, someone with striped shirt and long stick may appear, and wander aimlessly. He is a &quot;lost golfer,&quot; and must be removed.

Next come the cheerleaders, who bounce onto the field, often displaying skimpy uniforms and bare midriffs. And those are just the guys.

The girls look even better, and may wave their massive pom-poms to excite the crowd. (We'll discuss pom-poms another time.)

Then comes the team &quot;mascot,&quot; often a farm animal, or a human dressed like one. Mascot uniforms are sometimes very silly, and not appropriate wearing apparel for, say, a wedding.

Next come two teams that wear different colors, plus a helmet to hide their identities from the opponents they'll tackle later. For the next three hours each squad tries to go from one end of the field to the other.

Pay attention to the quarterback, who controls the football. Sometimes he throws it to a teammate (a &quot;pass&quot;). Sometimes he hands it to somebody (a &quot;handoff&quot;).

And occasionally he may tiptoe to the sidelines, and give some cheerleader a big, wet kiss. This is called the &quot;quarterback sneak.&quot;

There's more to tell, Sport Watcher, but I gotta go. On TV, they're about to show a &quot;quarterback sneak&quot; instant replay.

Poor Rix offers bad answers to good questions. Contact him at rixquinn@charter.net.

Rix authored the recent writing book "Words That Stick." It's available from <a target="_new" href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1580085768/qid/">http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1580085768/qid/</a>

For details on his weekly column, call him directly at 817-920-7999.

Beyond Black and White

Over visiting a neighbor the other day?

&quot;Would you like a cup of coffee?&quot; he asks. &quot;I just roasted the latest batch.&quot;

&quot;Yes. Coffee sounds great.&quot;

&quot;How do you take it?&quot; he asks as he grinds the beans.

&quot;Black; no sugar, no milk.&quot;

&quot;Well, we have no milk anyway, only cream.&quot;

&quot;In that case, I'll have it with no cream.&quot;

&quot;We could water the cream down to make milk, I suppose, if you'd prefer.&quot;

&quot;That's ok,&quot; I say, &quot;No cream is better than no milk anyway.&quot;

&quot;Well, actually, I prefer cream also,&quot; he says, &quot;but like you, I don't put it in my coffee.&quot;

&quot;What about milk?&quot; I ask.

&quot;Never.&quot;

&quot;Unless it's a caf? au lait?&quot; I venture.

&quot;Of course,&quot; says he, &quot;or a cappuccino.&quot;

&quot;Exactly.&quot; I say.

&quot;Just so.&quot;

&quot;Sartre sans sucre?&quot; I ask.

&quot;No. Nein. Niet-zsche, pas de lait.&quot; He gets in the last word. Almost.

I sip my coffee (black) in silence (white).

"Ever wonder where coffee originated?" he queries after a spell.

"Brazil?" I guess, "or somewhere in the Americas?"

"Not so," he replies, "Some say it was in Yemen, the Port of Mocha. Others say it was Ethiopia, in the district of Kaffa. In any case, it is Arabian."

"Aha, I say, "hence The Thousand and One Sleepless Nights."

"Just so," he says and silence returns

? Leslie Fieger. All rights reserved worldwide.

Leslie is the author of The DELFIN Knowledge System Trilogy: The Initiation, The Journey and The Quest plus many more success publications. He also the co-author of The End of the World with Hugh Jeffries and Alexandra's DragonFire with his daughter Ashley. Subscribe to his free and ad-free eZine at <a target="_new" href="http://www.ProsperityParadigm.com">http://www.ProsperityParadigm.com</a> or <a target="_new" href="http://www.LeslieFieger.com">http://www.LeslieFieger.com</a>

Reprinting and republishing of these articles is granted only with the above credit included. Permission to reprint or republish does not waive any copyright.

Humor Under The Keyboards

For me, the piano is the symbol of what is stiff, proper and elegant. It doesn't have faults, it is perfect. Pianists are the most perfectionist people in the world. They should not and can not make mistakes especially when performing. That is how I viewed the piano and the pianists. But then, I just found out I was wrong. A few researches and I have once again proven that appearances can be deceiving.

The pianists we see play appear to be the most formal and respectable stars on the stage. They hold the power and the breath of the audiences. They could look intimidating in their formal suits not to mention the authority and the air of arrogance they exude while on stage. They can be captivating.

But before we forget, these pianists are also human. And humans do make mistakes. Most of these mistakes can be frustrating and depressing. But then, there are also mistakes that are amusing and could also be totally hilarious. It shows how fun could be inserted even in the most seemingly stuffy and proper event.

Here are some examples:

When asked for their definition of a piano, some famous musicians and musical enthusiasts have some famous replies:

? For David W. Barber (The Musician's Dictionary), a piano is a cumbersome piece of furniture found in many homes, where playing it ensures the early departure of unwanted guests.

? Piano (n.) is a parlor utensil for subduing the impertinent visitor. It is operated by depressing the keys of the machine and the spirits of the audience, according to Ambrose Bierce, an American journalist (The Devil's Dictionary).

? A piano tuner is a person employed to come into the home, rearrange the furniture, and annoy the cat. The tuner's chief purpose is to ascertain the breaking point of the piano's strings.

Though these definitions may sound humorous, you can never miss the ironies in it. Coming from people who live and breathe the piano, these definitions seem odd.

Here's more ? when asked about their secrets in playing, you would certainly be surprised at how simple their secrets can be, and definitely applicable.

? Australian pianist Artur Schnabel said, &quot;I always make sure that the lid over the keyboard is open before I start to play&quot;.

? &quot;Nothing soothes me more after a long and maddening course of pianoforte recitals than to sit and have my teeth drilled&quot;, said George Bernard Shaw, a writer and a music critic.

I definitely agree with Artur Schnabel's top secret! I wonder why George found it relaxing to have his teeth drilled after hearing the pianoforte recitals. Check out more of the piano's funny side:

? Bob Hope, an American comedian commented on fellow comedian Phyllis Diller on her playing the piano: &quot;When she started to play, Steinway himself came down personally and rubbed his name off the piano.&quot;

? A band teacher recalled the title of the song &quot;Claire de Lune&quot; played by a student as &quot;Claire de Loonie&quot;.

? The audiences at a piano recital were appalled when a telephone rang just off stage. Without missing a note, the soloist glanced toward the wings and called, &quot;If that's my agent, tell him I'm working!&quot;

Now, let's check out some famous questions and answers in the funny world of piano:

? What do you get when you drop a piano down a mine shaft? A flat minor

? What do you get when you drop a piano on an army base? A flat major

? Why is an 11-foot concert grand better than a studio upright? Because is makes a much bigger kaboom when dropped over a cliff.

? Why was the piano invented? So that the musician would have a place to put his beer.

? Why did they say that the pianist had fingers like lightning? They never struck the same place twice.

? What did they find when they dug up Beethoven's grave? He was decomposing.

? Why did Mozart kill his chicken? Because they always ran around going, &quot;Bach! Bach! Bach!&quot;

? Imagine a singer, a piano player, a bass player and a drummer sitting around the table. Now if you drop a hundred-dollar bill right in the middle and tell them they're free to take it, who's getting it? The piano player. Because the bass player is too slow, for the winger it's too little money and the drummer didn't get the assignment.

Now that we've seen the humor under the keyboards, the piano and the pianists are not as elusive as they seem to be. It is just like discovering a new type of music. The piano and the pianist can take not just the breath out of the audiences but also the laughter as they present not only fine music but terrific humor as well. Having fun is what life is all about.

About The Author

The writer Ismael D. Tabije runs the website <a href="http://pianos.e-mart4all.com" target="_new">http://pianos.e-mart4all.com</a> that markets a wide choice of high-quality digital pianos and accessories at the lowest prices in the online market. Brands sold include Casio, Yamaha, Korg, Kurzweil and Roland. The website also features interesting piano articles about piano humor, trivia, myths and facts and even piano lessons and instructions.