An Italian MaMa

Mrs. Ravioli comes to visit her son Anthony for dinner.
He lives with a female roommate, Maria.

During the course of the meal, his mother couldn’t help but notice how pretty Anthony’s roommate is. 

Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Anthony and his roommate than met the eye. Reading his mom’s thoughts, Anthony volunteered, “I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, Maria and I are just roommates.” About a week later, Maria came to Anthony saying, “Ever since your mother came to dinner, I’ve been unable to find the silver sugar bowl.
You don’t suppose she took it, do you?” “Well, I doubt it, but I’ll email her, just to be sure.”
So he sat down and wrote an email:

Dear MaMa,  I’m not saying that you “did” take the sugar bowl from my house ; I’m not saying that you “did not” take it.
But the fact remains that it has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.  Your Loving Son
Several days later, Anthony received a response email from his MaMa which read:
Dear son,  I’m not saying that you “do” sleep with Maria, and I’m not saying that you “do not” sleep with her.
But the fact remains that if she was sleeping in her OWN bed, she would have found the sugar bowl by now. Your Loving MaMa

Never Bulla Shita you MaMa

WALK With Me as I Age

”  WALK With Me as I Age.”

— well worth the  read…




I forgot the words…

Swan Lake


Welland Canal Trip

This is cool, A trip through the Welland Canal down bound from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario.
To the many of us who live here , and are used to this on a daily basis , it reminds us of how amazing this system is that circumvents  Niagara Falls  .
Very interesting video

Senior Bumper Stickers

Should I Really Join Facebook?

When I bought my Blackberry, I thought about the 30-year
business I ran with 1800 employees, all without a cell phone
that plays music, takes videos, pictures and communicates
with Facebook and Twitter. I signed up under duress
for Twitter and Facebook, so my seven kids, their spouses,
13 grandkids and 2 great grandkids could communicate with me
in the modern way…

I figured I could handle something as simple as Twitter with
only 140 characters of space.

That was before one of my grandkids hooked me up for
Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl, Twitterfon, Tweetie and
Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix and something that sends
every message to my cell phone and every other program
within the texting world.

My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of
everything except the bowel movements of the entire next
generation. I am not ready to live like this. I keep my cell
phone in the garage in my golf bag.

The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they
say I get lost every now and then, going over to the grocery
store or library. I keep that in a box under my tool bench
with the Blue tooth [it’s red] phone I am supposed to use
when I drive. I wore it once and was standing in line at
Barnes and Noble talking to my wife, and everyone in the
nearest 50 yards was glaring at me. I had to take my hearing
aid out to use it, and I got a little loud.

I mean the GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the
lady inside that gadget was the most annoying, rudest person
I had run into in a long time.. Every 10 minutes, she would
sarcastically say, “Re-calc-u-lating.” You would think that
she could be nic. It was like she could barely
tolerate me. She would let go with a deep sigh and
then tell me to make a U-turn at the next light. Then if I
made a right turn instead . . .

Well, it was not a good relationship.

When I get really lost now, I call my wife and tell her the
name of the cross streets; and while she is starting to develop
the same tone as Gypsy, the GPS lady, at least she loves me.
To be perfectly frank, I am still trying to learn how to use
the cordless phones in our house. We have had them for 4
years, but I still haven’t figured out how I can lose three
phones all at once and have to run around digging under
chair cushions and checking bathrooms and the dirty laundry
baskets when the phone rings.

The world is just getting too complex for me. They even mess
me up every time I go to the grocery store. You would think
they could settle on something themselves but this sudden
“Paper or Plastic?” every time I check out just knocks me
for a loop. I bought some of those cloth reusable bags to
avoid looking confused, but I never remember to take them in
with me.

Now I toss it back to them. When they ask me, “Paper or
Plastic?” I just say, “Doesn’t matter to me. I am
bi-sacksual.” Then it’s their turn to stare at me with a
blank look. I was recently asked if I tweet. I answered, No,
but I do toot a lot.”

P.S. I know some of you are not over 50. I sent it to you to
allow you to forward it to those who are.

We senior citizens don’t need anymore gadgets. The TV remote
and the garage door remote are about all we can handle.

Best Qualities

Two of the
greatest qualities in life are:

1. Patience 

2. Wisdom 

A Depressed 10 Year Old

True Story?

Newfie Towel

Some years ago, Stan married an attractive woman, Aggie, half his age, in a small coastal Newfoundland community.
After several months, Aggie complained that she had never climaxed during sex and according to her Grandmother all Newfoundland women are entitled to a climax once in a while.
To resolve the problem, they went to see the Veterinarian since there was no trustworthy doctor anywhere in Burin.
The Vet didn’t have a clue, but he did recall how, during the hot summer, his mother and father would fan a cow that was having difficulty breeding, with a big towel. This would cool her down and make her relax.
He told them to hire a strong, virile young man to wave a big towel over them while they were having sex. This, the Vet said, would cause the young wife to cool down, relax, then climax.
The couple hired a strong young man from St. Lawrence to wave that big towel over them as the Vet suggested.
After many efforts, Aggie still had not climaxed so they went back to the Vet. The Vet said for Aggie to change partners and let the young man have sex with her while Stan waved the big towel.
They tried it that night and Aggie went into wild, screaming, ear-splitting climaxes, one right after the other for about two and a half hours.
When it was over, Stan looked down at the exhausted young man and in a boasting voice said:
“And that, me son, is how ya waves a fuckin’ towel!”