Sunday, May 31, 2009

The Bird Is the Word

Hey Guys, a Piece of Advice:

Some Gals Are Wise When You Say,
"Oops! I Dropped My Spoon!"

History of 'The Bird'

In the film, Titanic, the character Rose is shown giving the
finger to Jack (another character). Many people who have seen the film,
question whether "giving the finger" was done around the time of the
Titanic disaster, or was it a more recent gesture invented by some
defiant teenager! According to research, here's the true story:

Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating
victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all
captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would be
impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore be
incapable of fighting in the future. This famous weapon was made of
wood from the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the
longbow as known as "plucking the yew" (or "pluck yew").

Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset
and began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the
defeated French, saying, "See, we can still pluck yew! PLUCK YEW!"

Over the years some 'folk etymologies' have grown up around this
symbolic gesture. Since "pluck yew" is rather difficult to say (like
pleasant mother pheasant plucker," which is who you had to go to for
the feathers used on the arrows for the longbow), the difficult
consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a
labiodental fricative 'F', and thus the words often used in conjunction
with the one-finger-salute are mistakenly thought to have something to
do with an intimate encounter.

It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows that the
symbolic gesture is known as "giving the bird." And yew all thought yew
knew everything!

(From the Wayne State University AAUP News & Notes, 11/10/98)

Biblical Birds

The Old Testament contains several warnings about the evil of the digits. In Isaiah 58:9-10 it says:

"If you remove the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, and if you give yourself to the hungry, and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness, and your gloom will become like midday;"

indicating that a finger pointed with scorn is an act of which God disapproves.

Elsewhere, in Proverbs we find:

"...A worthless person, a wicked man, goes about with crooked speech, winks with his eyes, scrapes with his feet, points with his finger, with perverted heart devises evil..."

indicating that those who accuse others of wrongdoing only spread more evil, or that lecherous old men should just keep it in their pants. Unfortunately, because the Bible doesn't specify exactly which finger is the source of all evil, it's impossible for us to know if we are damned. That's might just be wishful thinking though. It might be safe to assume God hates The Finger.

How To Give the Bird ¹

You'd be surprised how many people don't give The Finger correctly. Save yourself from unnecessary embarrassment by going over these few simple steps.

1) Extend either arm at an approximately 90° angle perpendicular to the body.

2) Bend arm at the elbow. Position it parallel to the body, forming three sides of a perfect square.

3) Close palm tightly.

4) Fiercely upturn digit between pointer and ring finger.

5) Hold approximately 10 seconds to a minute for emphasis.

Be Strong. Be Proud. Then Flip. Remember: You are the master of your own bird.
¹Lifted from Ooze.

Unique Auto Accessory

Keep Your Eyes On the Road
and Let the S.O.B.s Know What You Think of Them


Friday, May 29, 2009

The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray (53)

Part 53 of an original tale that delves into the unexplored realms of the human mind. Hired by her lover to find a raven haired beauty, Benjamin Bering must avoid the local police as well as the agents of a nonexistent government agency who are after him and the woman. There are just two problems. The woman is in a coma and her body has been stolen. (Part 1 can be found HERE.)

When Thoughts Kill

"What?" Michelle gasped. "Someone else? And they want to kill us?"

My head began to pound. I'd thought that I had pretty much figured out who all the players were and what their roles were. There were, of course, some questions still in need of answers, but I was unprepared for King to throw another player into the mix.

"You know who this someone is, right?" I said addressing King.

He shook his head, "I'm afraid I have no clue, Mr. Bering." He sighed deeply looking every bit the epitome of a beaten man. "At times I've felt another in my head, probing me, and usurping information. At other times, it felt like information was being placed in my brain. Always, the presence was cold and emotionless."

"I too have felt someone in my head," Michelle concurred with King. "I've assumed that it was Micheal reaching out to his former body." She looked at me and said, "Ben, those dreams and images you and Susan experienced ... perhaps it's the same one ... this someone has been visiting all of our heads."

Bishop King arose from the chair and said, "I came here today convinced I was going to shut down this operation. Now I'm wondering if that idea was planted in my head, as if it was my own decision."

I suggested, "It could well be your own decision, and instead a thought was planted to cast doubt." I looked about at the faces of the others present and added, "Have any of our thoughts and actions been entirely our own? Have we been put into a position to drive ourselves crazy second guessing everything we've done and might yet do?"

"Good grief!" bellowed Brock O'Day. "How can someone be that powerful? Don't we have to be hooked up to those damned head things for someone to get into our heads?" He looked around and glared at the rest of us, "What's next? Are going to be suspecting the person next to us is messing with our heads?"

"Enough!" King shouted. When he had our undivided attention he cleared his throat and said, "There were a few instances during our research over the years that we found a few ... ah ... extraordinary individuals."

"Uh oh," I muttered, "some new information we haven't been privy to. Just how extraordinary?"

"A few individuals, after having received a neural transplant, had shown the ability to communicate with and to read the minds of the other subjects. They were able to do this without the aid of a headpiece! Fortunately we were able to disable their transplants, effectively turning off the enhanced portions of their brains," King professed.

"But some individuals," Michelle voiced, "were not turned off?"

"Yes. To make matters worse, they were deleted from our main frame files, per Julius Gates. The names and locations of these individuals were locked away somewhere by Gates," he replied.

I let out a low whistle and uttered, "Gates' silent army."

King turned to me and said, "Oh, you know about the satellite up-link capability? It's a military application that I fought against and lost. Myself and two other board members argued against its installation."

"The same two who opposed the move to keep my story off the front page? The same two who died when their plane crashed on the return trip to Chicago?" I watched his face turn pale as he nodded.

"It appears that someone has no problem with using violence to make their point," said Dave the intern.

"Make their point? Oh, they've been making their point all along." I began to count on my fingers, "Two executives, Susan's friend Billy, Jimmy Coleman ... dead! There was the assault on Michelle and Michael, and then there was the attack on me and Susan ... both by the same two thugs who were being paid. Those assaults were sandwiched around the beating Stu suffered in his own office! Oh, by the way, a bomb was detonated in my apartment and Susan and I barely escaped."

Stu was shaking his head when he asserted, "If all that wasn't enough, we arrive here and someone tampers with poison gas, a receptionist shoots Susan in the lobby of this building, and somewhere in the basement there is a bomb set to blow this place to smithereens!" He turned to Dave and asked, "Say, how much time is left before it goes off?"

The intern looked at his watch and announced, "Forty-five minutes."

King spoke with slow nervous words, "This bomb, it was set by the General?" When Dave nodded to affirm, he moved toward the control pod which continued Gates' body. He shouted over his shoulder, "Somebody, anybody, give me a hand with him. I have to see if I can get into his computer programs."

I remembered the copy of the general's speech and pulled it out of my shirt pocket. While Brock and King struggled to remove Gates' body from the oval-shaped control center I unfolded the crumpled document. "Mr. King, I think I know what Gates was up to."

He settled into the seat behind the controls and studied the myriad of dials and gauges before him. "What is that?" he asked.

I replied, "This paper is a speech to be given by the President later this evening in Boston's Government Center. Except these words are the general's words. I think he was planning to get into the President's head and have him recite the general's version."

"Damn!" King swore. "I've talked and argued with Gates on many an occasion. He thinks that the U.S. should invade the entire Middle East. He feels we should annex all of the oil producing countries as territories of our country."

"Whew!" I muttered. "That's almost verbatim of what's written on this paper."

"The bloody fool!" King shouted. "That's exactly what the son of a bitch was up to! He wasn't settling for influencing the President's thoughts. He wanted to become the President!"

Michelle cried out, "My God! He was going to swap minds with our President?"

"Not only that, Michelle. He intended for the mind swap to occur before that gas was released! He would be alive in our Commander-in-Chief's body while the President's mind would die in his body!" King was quiet for a moment with his thoughts and muttered, "When thoughts kill ..."

Michelle cried out again, "Please tell me that he failed! Tell me that he didn't complete the swap!"

King was trembling at the controls, "I ... I don't know. The command to transmit was enabled, but I cannot determine if it was actually transmitted."

Brock O'Day approached King and said, "We'll have to wait until the President gives his speech, won't we? In the meantime, Mr. King, I think you should get out of that chair and let the programs run."

I stepped forth and said, "Brock? What are you doing? Who knows what else he's got running in there? We have to shut that computer and those programs down!"

O'Day produced his police revolver and said, "I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Ben."

"Brock have you gone mad?" I shouted.

He abruptly shoved me backward and declared, "That's no way to talk to the Vice President of the United States!"

(To be continued in Part 54 on Monday, 6/1, with The Key.)


Thursday, May 28, 2009

Less Than 100%

Even early man found out that women
came without an operating manual!

No matter what position or angle we take,
We cannot get a better view of cleavage on TV.

I've been feeling a bit under the weather the last two days. It started as chills yesterday and I woke up with a sore throat this morning. That evolved into a cough this afternoon.

I've doped myself up with a sundry of pills and liquid medicines and will shortly turn in early.

Good night.


Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Must See Porn

(The following was lifted from someone, from somewhere on the Web. I added a few at the end.)

"Must See Porno Movies"

Remember The Tightun's
Diddle-Her On The Roof
The DaVinci Load
Schindler's Fist
All About Steve
Splendor In The Ass
Lawrence Of A Labia
Jurassic Pork
How Stella Got Her Tube Packed
Who's Eating Gilbert's Grapes?
Saturday Night Beaver
Yank My Doodle, It’s a Dandy
Add Momma To The Train
Sorest Rump
Ordinary Peepholes
Inspect Her Gadget
Dirty (And) Hairy
The Sexth Sense
Peeing John Malkovich
Total Reball
The Man Who Blew Too Much
Shaving Ryan’s Privates
Good Will Humping
The Sperminator
Field of Creams
Bend Hur
Rear and Pleasant Danger
Bright Lights, Big Titties
Inrearentrance Day
Will He Bonk Ya In The Chocolate Factory
Sperms of Endearment
Eat Me In St. Louis
Das Booty
Dog-Style Afternoon
Mr. Holland's Anus
In Diana Jones At The Temple Of Poon
Passenger 69
Tail In Two Cities
Tits, A Wonderful Life
Shanghai Poon
Buttman Forever
Edward Penishands
My Bare Lady
Sex Trek: The Next Penetration
For Your Thighs Only
The Bootyguard
Rosemary's Booby
Bi-curious George
What Reams May Come
Done In 60 Seconds
There's Something In and Out of Mary
Face Jam
Tittylickers & Tittylickers 2
The Legend In Bagger’s Pants
Gang Bangs Of New York
On Golden Blonde
The Loin King
The Wadfather
E.T.: The Extra Testicle
Creamer vs. Creamer
Bangin’ In The Rain
Throbbin' Wood
Spanking 12 Monkeys
Big Trouble in Little Vagina
Moulin Spooge
You've Got Tail
The Spooge-itive
Snatch Adams
Phallus In Bunderland
Hung Wankenstein
101 Fellations
Itty Bitty Gang Bang
The Bourne Extremity
Star Trek: Inner Thighs
The Pud Sucker Proxy
Buffy, The Vampire Layer
Around the World in Eighty Ways
Charlotte's Wet
The Mailman Always Bangs Twice


Tuesday, May 26, 2009

The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray (52)

Part 52 of an original tale that delves into the unexplored realms of the human mind. Hired by her lover to find a raven haired beauty, Benjamin Bering must avoid the local police as well as the agents of a nonexistent government agency who are after him and the woman. There are just two problems. The woman is in a coma and her body has been stolen. (Part 1 can be found HERE.)

An Entity With No Identity

The outskirts of the German town of Baden Baden, the summer of 1944:

"My superiors told me that I was chasing a ghost ... an entity with no identity," snarled the smallish man, a rumpled overcoat hanging loosely from his shoulders. Beneath the brim of his hat, his cold eyes were grotesquely magnified through the thick lenses of the horn rimmed glasses resting upon the bridge of a misshapen nose.

"Erick, make sure he is unarmed," he ordered the SS trooper at his side, "and grab his papers."

The soldier produced a Luger from the waistband of the man's pants and then removed the papers from the inside breast pocket of his jacket. From an outer pocket he held aloft a bundle of wires attached to what looked like a telephone operator's headset. He tossed them aside onto the ground. Placing the confiscated gun into his jacket pocket, the Gestapo agent scanned the papers that had been handed to him.

He peered over the papers and addressed his prisoner, "Well, well, Herr Grueber. You are looking healthy for a man who died almost two months ago!" His mouth curled into a sneer which seemed to animate a large scar on the left side of his face as he spoke again, "But you are not Horst Grueber, are you?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out another set of papers. "You resemble one Josef Schraeder, a shopkeeper in Dresden. Why do you suppose it is that I have Herr Schraeder's papers and you have those of a dead man?" He walked up and placed the barrel of his gun under the man's chin. "Since you are not either of these men, I'm asking myself who you might be, and why you are out here so close to the French border."

He nodded to the soldier who then responded by striking the man across the face with his own pistol. He then kicked the fallen man in the ribs. He stepped back and glared down at the man writhing in pain on the ground. As ordered, the man struggled to his feet and faced his tormentors.

The arrogant little man patted the pocket where he'd placed the gun taken from his prisoner. "I am thinking that when I check the serial numbers on this Luger, it will match the one issued to one of our SS officers. I learned that Colonel Hans Gearhardt was found executed in Dresden and I suspect this Luger was his."

He paced in front of the man and said, "When we are knocking on doors in Dresden, we learn something curious. A shopkeeper did not come home from work and his truck was missing. We later learn that his truck was found in a ravine between the Czech border and Nuremberg, but he is not with the truck. That had me wondering why it was that Herr Schraeder would drive there and not take his papers with him."

He stood nose to nose with his prisoner and offered, "I would ask you, you who looks like Schraeder this question, but you are not Josef Schraeder, are you? I am wondering this when I received a dispatch that another body had been found near Dresden. The report said the man was a Jew and that he had been shot twice, once in the back and once in the chest."

He glared at the captive and orated, "Well I, Dieter Metzger of the SS Gestapo, am not concerned with a dead Jew. Why should I be? But then I get another dispatch, this time from Berlin. Suddenly I am to be interested in the dead Jew. Do you know why? No, of course not, why would you know?"

"I am told that this Jew was an assistant to an important scientist. His name was Walter Rabinowitz and he was registered to be working with a scientist named Ernst Fischer." He trained his eyes on the man, "I don't suppose you would know this man of science? No, that would be too much of a coincidence for a man wandering around outside of Baden Baden. But wait, this scientist, he was born in Baden Baden!"

"While I was on my way here, my orders were to pick you up, take you into protective custody and to escort you back to your shop and your wife. I was instructed to remind you that you must not leave your home, even to cross the street, without your papers."

The prisoner finally spoke, "Then I am not under arrest?"

"Those were my orders before I arrived here. However, I received another dispatch. It seems that Herr Fischer was found dead in the ruins of his lab in Berlin which had burned to the ground. The cause of the fire was under suspicious circumstances."

"I don't see what that has to do with me?" the captive man protested.

"It would not appear so, would it? Hear this. It seems that this scientist was working on the human mind, things like reading the mind and controlling the mind. Of course, I am skeptical of such things. Perhaps you are too?" He was studying the man's face intently.

"I found the rest of the dispatch most disturbing. My agents visited some of the other scientists in Berlin. Well, one of them remembered a discussion he'd had with Fischer. Fischer claimed that he was working on a recent discovery. I think the man must have been insane, because he told the other man that he was able to attach a device to the heads of two men and then transfer the minds of the men into each other's bodies!"

"Preposterous!" yelped the man who was beginning to grow nervous. "Such a thing is impossible!"

"Those would have been my sentiments exactly. But think about it, if such a thing were possible, would it not explain the trail of dead bodies from Berlin to Dresden? Would it not explain how a scientist could possibly think he could escape from Germany undetected?"

The man didn't respond, but stood with a blank stare into space.

"I was not willing to believe men could swap minds. I was not, until Erick removed something from your pocket and tossed it aside." He pointed to the ground and said, "There it is by our feet. Imagine, with that simple looking device, one can swap minds with another. What a glorious gift to present to the Third Reich. I'm sure the Fuhrer will want to thank you personally ... Herr Fischer."

Sitting a in chair from one of the labs, King raised his head which had been buried in his hands during his account of his capture and the confrontation with the Gestapo agent. He looked at me and said, "I had not counted on any of the Gestapo being able to tie everything together. Dieter Metzger proved to be quite resourceful."

I grinned and stated, "Don't forget, you gave him twenty-six months to gather all that information and then put it all together."

He sat back in the chair and seemed to be lost in deep thought. "Yes, I did spend much too much time in Nuremberg. I allowed myself to become comfortable surrounded by new friends. I had also enjoyed a pleasant domestic relationship while I was there." He noticed the stares of interest on our faces and smiled with a hint of embarrassment. "What can I say? My mind might have been ninety-five, but the shopkeeper's body was a healthy and virile thirty-five years old."

"Jesus Christ, Mr. King," O'Day yammered, "It's nice and all that you met a woman, but how in the hell did you get away from that Gestapo creep and his goon?"

The intern David also chimed in, "Yes. What happened next?"

King sat upright in he chair and a smile came to his face as he spoke, "I thought is was all over for me. It was ironic, but it was Metzger himself who would provide me with a means of escape."

In our collective silence a dropped pin could have been heard as King resumed his story.

The Gestapo agent picked up the headset and studied it for a moment. He looked at the SS soldier who accompanied him and said, "Erick, the Furher will reward us handsomely. With this device, we will be able to turn the war back into Germany's favor. We will be national heroes!"

The soldier grinned and replied, "I could have a comfortable desk job somewhere, away from the front lines and the fighting?"

"Of course. You like Frauleins, Erick? You will have to fight them off. Erick Heinrich, you will have your pick of them." The soldier inflated his chest and smiled.

Metzger turned to their prisoner and said, "Herr Fischer, you will demonstrate your device to us. You will show us how it works."

The prisoner looked at the two Lugers aimed at him and nodded in defeat. "Upon which of you should I demonstrate?"

"Do you take me for some kind of fool?" Metzger growled. "Your mind will remain where it is. You will use the device on us," he ordered indicating himself and the trooper.

The trooper became uncomfortable when he asked of his superior, "Is that wise, Herr Metzger? I'm not sure this man can be trusted."

"Nor do I trust him, Erick. That is why I will not allow him to get into our heads. You and I will go through the transformation and he will still be our prisoner and not one of us. Then after we have experienced being in another body, he will then return us to our proper bodies."

"Mister King," Michelle voiced, "I thought you said that once transferred, a mind cannot be returned to its original body."

His mind and thoughts returned to the present, he responded, "That's true. However, fifty-five years ago, I did not know that. That day was the first time it had ever been attempted." He smiled as he looked upon our enlightened faces. "The battery of a motorcycle with a sidecar they had hidden nearby was used to supply the power. They spent only about five minutes in their companions' bodies before ordering me to reverse the process."

Michelle shuddered, "It must have been a horrible sight to watch the effect of their minds being rejected by their own bodies."

King acknowledged her statement with a nod and replied, "I didn't spend too much time observing them being turned into vegetated corpses. I acted immediately hoping that I could perform a transfer with one of them while there was still some semblance of a mind intact."

Stu whistled, "You didn't know what was happening to them. Weren't you afraid the same fate awaited you?"

"I acted out of desperation, Stu. I knew that I stood little chance of getting across the border as a shopkeeper who had been reported missing. But as a Gestapo officer, I knew that the odds would be in my favor."

I moved next to Stu and opined, "It is obvious that you were able to complete a successful mind swap with the Gestapo agent. The motorcycle provided you with transportation and I assume you were successful in crossing the border into France. I'm curious as to how a Gestapo officer would not draw attention to the advancing Allied forces. You would have to make a another mind swap sooner or later."

"Right you are, Mr. Bering," King responded. "Yes, the mind swap was successful, but it was not without its side effects. Once in the body of the Gestapo agent my mind was besieged by not only his thoughts, but also by remnants of the of the soldier's thoughts as well as those of the shopkeeper. I was suffering from massive headaches and was having trouble concentrating." He was reflective for a moment before continuing, "I was able to show some mercy for the two Germans writhing in pain on the ground. After taking them out of their misery, I used the motorcycle to head for the French border."

Stu, having had an epiphanous moment snapped his fingers. "I might be getting ahead of your story, Mr. King, but I remember reading a biography of the King family. Bishop King, your father was a decorated RAF pilot in World War II. He was shot down in a dogfight somewhere over France."

King clapped his hand as if applauding Stu's words. "An astute observation on your part, Mr. Jankowski. It was fate that when I had traveled twenty miles into France that I would see a flaming British Spitfire spiraling out of the sky with the Me-109 which had shot it down following its trail of smoke. It must have spotted the pilot parachuting to safety the same moment I did. I was horrified to see the German pilot fire a couple of rounds at the helpless man as he drifted earthward."

"So you found the pilot alive and swapped minds with him. You then assumed the life of the son of a very wealthy British man and eventually took over his holdings," Stu said. "It must have taken some time and effort to convince the old man that you were in fact his son. I mean, you would've had no knowledge of the son's life prior to the war ... no childhood memories ... no..."

King spoke before Stu could finish his thoughts, "I was spared that ordeal. The pilot had been hit in the leg from the German pilot's gunfire and his chute had been damaged. As a result, he had hit his head when he had landed next to an outcropping of rocks. When I found him he was delirious and was drifting in and out consciousness. I used shreds of his parachute as temporary bandages. It was while I was tending to his wounds that I realized he was suffering from amnesia."

"Well, Mr. King," I said, "It appears we've just about come full circle, haven't we? You were then found and rescued by members of the advancing Allies forces. They found you with no memory, lying next to the body of a dead Gestapo officer."

"Yes, that's the story in a nutshell. I would spend the next several years in relative anonymity while I was being reeducated to all my forgotten life as a member of the King family. When the old man died, I simply appeared on the scene to take over. It wasn't long afterwards that I took advantage of the vast fortune I had inherited and as a result I resurrected my mind research. For obvious reasons, I kept hidden the fact that I was able to transfer minds from one body to another."

Michelle spread her arms and asserted, "That is until Michael and I independently stumbled upon the same type of research. When Michael and I accidentally had our minds transferred, it must have caused you a great deal of concern."

"Yes," he replied, "but because of the nature of the accident. That power surge was no accident, but a deliberate attempt to stop you and your research. You see, I have long suspected that there is another out there who has been conducting the same kind of research. Your mind swap was no accident, it was intended to kill you both!"

(To be continued in part 53, on Friday, 5/29, with When Thoughts Kill.)


Monday, May 25, 2009

No Need For Words


Saturday, May 23, 2009

Smiles For a Saturday

A man goes into a cocktail lounge and approaches Maxine sitting by herself.

Man: 'May I buy you a cocktail?'

Maxine: 'No thank you, alcohol is bad for my legs.

Man: 'Sorry to hear that. Do they swell?'

Maxine: 'No, they spread.'

Underwear Powder

One evening a husband, thinking he was being funny, said to his wife, 'Perhaps we should start washing your clothes in 'Slim Fast'. Maybe it would take a few inches off of your butt!'

His wife was not amused, and decided that she simply couldn't let such a comment go unrewarded.

The next morning the husband took a pair of underwear out of his drawer. 'What the heck is this?' he said to himself as a little 'dust' cloud appeared when he shook them out.

'April', he hollered into the bathroom, 'Why did you put talcum powder in my underwear?'

She replied with a snicker. 'It's not talcum powder; it's 'Miracle Grow'!!!!!!

A Prayer For the Injured

The pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise and thanksgiving for answered prayers.

A lady stood and walked to the front. She said, "I do. Two months ago, my husband, Tom, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't know if they could help him."

You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.

"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on, "and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Tom's scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."

Again, the men in the congregation were unnerved and squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.

"Now," she announced in a quavering voice,"thank the Lord, Tom is out of the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his scrotum should recover completely."

All the men sighed with relief.

The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.

A man stood up and walked slowly to the front.

He said, "I'm Tom."

The entire congregation held its breath.

"I just want to tell my wife that the word is ... sternum.

A Visit to the Gynecologist

A middle-aged woman seemed sheepish as she visited her gynecologist.

"Come now," coaxed the doctor,"you've been seeing me for years! There's nothing you can't tell me."

"This one's kind of strange," she said.

"Let me be the judge of that," the doctor replied.

"Well," she said, "yesterday I went to the bathroom in the morning and heard a plink-plink-plink in the toilet and when I looked down, the water was full of pennies."

"I see," the doctor said.

"That afternoon I went to the bathroom again and, plink-plink-plink, there were nickels in the bowl."

"That night," she went on, "I went again, Plink-plink-plink, and there were dimes, and this morning there were quarters! You've got to tell me what's wrong with me!" she implored,"I'm scared out of my wits!"

The gynecologist put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "There, there, it's nothing to be scared about. . . . ."
(Ready for this?)
"You're simply going through the change!"

Good For What Ails Ya

A guy is out with his buddies. He has a few drinks, and gets in the mood for some loving. But true to his wife, he goes home.

When he gets home he finds her sound asleep in bed with her mouth wide open. He gets two aspirin and drops them in her mouth.

Of course, she awakens choking, but she quickly recovers and asks,"What did you put in my mouth???"

He says, "Two aspirin"
She replies, "BUT I DON'T HAVE A HEADACHE!!!"

He says, "That's all I wanted to hear."

Should Blondes be Allowed To Have Babies?

The other day my neighbor, who is blonde, came running up to me in the driveway jumping for joy!

I didn't know why she was jumping so excitedly but I thought, "What the heck", and I starting jumping up and down along with her.

She said, "I have some really great news!"

I said, "Great. Tell me why you're so happy."

She stopped jumping and was breathing heavily from all the jumping up and down, and told me that she was pregnant.

I knew she'd been trying for a while so I told her, "That's great I couldn't be happier for you!"

Then she said, "There's more."

I asked, "What do you mean there's more?"

She said, "Well, we are not having just one baby. We are going to have TWINS!"

Amazed at how she could know so soon after getting pregnant, I asked her how she knew.

She said....(You're going to love this!)

"Well, that was the easy part. I went to Sam's Club and they actually had a home pregnancy kit in a TWIN-pack. Both tests came out positive!"

Old Farts Football Game

An old married couple no sooner hit the pillows when the old man passes gas and says, "Seven Points!"

His wife rolls over and says, "What in the world was that?".

The old man replied, "It's Fart Football."

A few minutes later his wife lets one go and says, "Touchdown, Tie Score."

After about five minutes the old man lets another one go and says, "Aha, I'm ahead 14 to 7."

Not to be outdone the wife rips out another one and says, "Touchdown, Tie Score."

Five seconds go by and she lets out a little squeaker and says, "Field goal, I lead 17 to 14."

Now the pressure is on the old man. He refuses to get beaten by a woman, so he strains real hard. Since defeat is totally unacceptable, he gives it everything he's got, and accidentally craps in bed.

The wife says, "What the hell was that?"

The old man says, "Half time, switch sides."

-(Lifted from Phil at Phils Phun.)


Friday, May 22, 2009

The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray (51)

Part 51 of an original tale that delves into the unexplored realms of the human mind. Hired by her lover to find a raven haired beauty, Benjamin Bering must avoid the local police as well as the agents of a nonexistent government agency who are after him and the woman. There are just two problems. The woman is in a coma and her body has been stolen. (Part 1 can be found HERE.)

The Trail of Blood

King glared at the young intern for a few moments before taking a deep breath and exhaling. "Building an empire was the farthest thing from my mind in 1938, but there was an evil empire growing around me. There was bitter irony in the fates that awaited both Walter and myself. Both of us were going to die at the hands of the Nazis, he because of his faith and I in their service because of my research."

He must have seen the apathy on our faces, but he was not moved by it. "I felt at the time that my actions were justified. I had not discussed the matter with Walter because I felt he would have concurred. One afternoon while he was napping I drugged him and linked with his mind. Even though I felt his resistance and sensed his terror, I doubled the electric charge. Too late I realized he wanted no part of the transfer. I stood there and watched as the heart in my former body failed under the onset of the angry emotions generated by the body's alien mind."

Stu extended his arm and slid his shirt sleeve to his elbow to reveal the faded numerals that had been tattooed on his arm. "There exists in the human spirit a certain intangible, Mr. King. It's the will to live. When the Allies rescued us from Auschwitz I was barely alive, but I did survive. These numbers are a testament and a reminder of that will."

"Mr. Jankowski, I'm not a monster without emotions. Those emotions however, were clouded by the events of an imminent war. I did feel the pangs of sorrow and guilt as I watched my body and Walter die before my eyes. I suppressed the emotions and went about gathering my notes and the headpieces before setting fire to my work shop. I was driven by the hope of escaping from Germany and an insatiable desire to survive."

"Mr. King," O'Day interjected, "that you are standing here in front of me, it is obvious that you survived that arduous trek out of Germany. Would it be safe to assume that you did not make it to safety as Walter Rabinowitz?"

"That assumption would be correct, Brock," he replied. "As a lone Jewish man without papers, I didn't expect to get very far. I was Walter Rabinowitz for all of three days! Even in the weeks before Poland was invaded, the Gestapo were quite adept at tracking down and rounding up Jews and dissidents. Hans Gearhardt, an SS officer cornered me outside of Dresden. When I tried to run the bastard shot me in the back. I feigned death and when he crouched next to me I struck him in the head with a rock. There was an electrical power station nearby, so I dragged him there. I waited until he regained consciousness and once I saw that he had all of his faculties I siphoned enough electricity from the tower to perform another mind transfer. I drew the officer's Luger knowing that the German's mind and Walter's body had to sacrificed."

I had to admit to myself that his story was intriguing. "For a man of peace, you certainly had to resort to some brutal measures to survive," I noted. "I doubt that an SS officer without orders was able to move around freely either."

"You are correct, Mr. Bering. As it turned out, I was much less conspicuous as a civilian than a lone SS trooper. My stay in Gearhardt's body had to be a brief one. By the time I had jumped into the head of a shopkeeper and had killed the German officer, I realized that the trail of bodies I was leaving behind was making my plight all the more difficult. I knew also that they would eventually track down the shopkeeper's truck which I had stolen."

"My knowledge of the geography of Germany isn't that great, but from Berlin to Dresden I believe you were moving in a southerly direction. You must have been trying to escape into Czechoslovakia?" Stu asked.

King nodded and replied, "Correct. That was my original plan. The Czech border, however was heavily guarded. I didn't want to risk a western route across the widest breadth of Germany into France, so my best option was to continue south into Bavaria. From there I was hoping I could make it into either Austria or Switzerland."

"You didn't realize that the "death" of Ernst Fischer would cause quite a stir back in Berlin did you?" I asked.

He flashed a grin at me and replied, "Not until much later, Mr. Bering. I see that the analytical mind of the investigative reporter within you has been hard at work." He presented his open palms and said, "Please continue."

I acknowledged his gesture, "The body of a leading scientist, who was going to be drafted into the service of the Fatherland, was found in the rubble of a suspicious fire. His assistant, who happened to be a Jew, was nowhere to be found. To a diligent Gestapo agent this would have hinted at foul play. By the time the body of that Jewish assistant showed up in Dresden with a bullet in the back and an SS officer assigned to that area had not reported in, that Gestapo agent would have been hot on the trail."

"I believe that's the way it happened, Mr. Bering," he said in response to my account. "Knowing that the Dresden area was not safe, I drove through the night until I was near Nuremberg. In an attempt to disguise my trail, I drove due east to within a mile of the Czech border. After pushing the truck into a ravine, I turned back on foot in the direction of Nuremberg."

"That sounds like it was a good plan," Stu offered. "It would have appeared that you'd managed to cross the border into Czechoslovakia."

"That was my intent. While I was making my way to Nuremberg, it dawned upon me that I had no papers, no identity. I hadn't bothered to even learn the shopkeeper's name. I was fortunate to have stumbled upon what appeared to be an abandoned farmhouse along my route. Inside the house I found the body of a man who had apparently died there in his sleep. I found his papers and took on his identity and finally made my way into Nuremberg as Horst Grueber, a common laborer."

"Damn!" O'Day swore. "Get yourself a ghost writer, Mr. King. Your story would make one hell of a good book."

"Perhaps, I'll do that ... someday," King replied to O'Day's suggestion. He appeared thoughtful for a few moments before continuing with the story of his eventual escape from Nazi Germany. "In the end, I remained in Nuremberg for about twenty-six months. It was during my stay there that rumors about an Allied invasion in France had begun to circulate. I figured it must have had some merit because of a noticeable buildup of soldiers who had been pulled back from the front. It struck me that they could have been making plans for a defensive posture to protect the homeland."

Michelle, although she'd been listening closely to King's story, had been wearing an inquisitive veil on her face and finally spoke up, "Mr. King, while I understand your actions considering the duress you were under, there is one thing that's been troubling me."

"...And that is?" he replied.

"I can only draw upon my own experience, which unlike your own involves a gender swap. How is that you were able to adapt and to integrate your mind so quickly into those new bodies?" she asked.

"I have to admit that I did experience some difficulty. My assistant had asthma. The SS officer was left-handed. The shopkeeper had a bad hip. I experienced no effects so traumatic as what you've had to endure." He looked at Michelle and shrugged his shoulders, "I'm afraid that's the best answer I can give you."

She contemplated his words for a moment and offered, "It's a crap shoot, isn't it? Just as no two brains are alike, the same applies to bodies."

Brock O'Day chose an ill-timed moment to launch into a poorly executed impersonation, "Momma always said minds are like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." He was compelled to avert his eyes from the condescending scowls that greeted him and he said, "Let's hear some more about your trail of blood."

"I'd felt I'd spent far too much time in Nuremberg and I didn't wan't to grow too complacent and lull myself into a false sense of security. I'd used poor judgement when I decided to remain in the body of the shopkeeper and to maintain the identity of Horst Grueber. It was a tactical error that almost cost me my freedom ... and my life."

"I was thinking that after twenty-six months, you were being very fortunate that someone else hadn't stumbled across Grueber's body," I asserted. "It wouldn't have taken them long to discover that his identification papers were missing."

King frowned in agreement before continuing his narrative, "Under the cover of night I slipped out of town in the direction of Stutgart. Now Stutgart was about fifty miles from the French border. My path there however, would have taken me to the Black Forest area and my hometown of Baden Baden. Logic dictated that I should have skirted Baden Baden and made my way into France."

"There's something to be said about the lure of the old stomping grounds," Michelle suggested. "I think most people would've given in, if for no other reason than to see how the place might have changed ... or not!"

"I'm afraid there were no feelings within me of nostalgia for the good old days, Michelle," he replied. "I needed a new body and a new identity. I knew that the shopkeeper's bad hip would not serve me well trying to cross the border if I was confronted by Nazi soldiers."

"Not to mention that you were carrying the identification of a dead man," said O'Day.

"I was committed to entering Baden Baden when I walked right into the path of an SS soldier and a Gestapo agent with their weapons drawn and trained on me. They had been waiting for me."

(To be continued in Part 52, on TUESDAY, 5/26, with An Entity With No Identity.)


Thursday, May 21, 2009

Honeymoonin' & Spoonin'

Three Virgin Daughters

A Mother had 3 virgin daughters. They were all getting married within a short time period. Because Mom was a bit worried about how their sex life would get started, she made them all promise to send a postcard from the honeymoon with a few words on how marital sex felt.

The first girl sent a card from Hawaii two days after the wedding. The card said nothing but "Maxwell House".

Mom was puzzled at first, but then went to the kitchen and got out the Nescafe jar. It said: "Good til the last drop."

Mom blushed, but was pleased for her daughter.

The second girl sent the card from Vermont a week after the wedding, and the card read: "Benson & Hedges". Mom now knew to go straight to her husband's cigarettes, and she read from the Benson & Hedges pack: "Extra Long. King Size".

She was again slightly embarrassed but still happy for her daughter.

The third girl left for her honeymoon in the Caribbean. Mom waited for a week, nothing. Another week went by and still nothing. Then after a whole month, a card finally arrived. Written on it with shaky handwriting were the words: "British Airways". Mom took out her latest Harper's Bazaar magazine, flipped through the pages fearing the worst, and finally found the ad for British Airways.

The ad said: "Three times a day, seven days a week, both ways....

Mom fainted.

Watergate Honeymoon

A honeymoon couple is in the Watergate Hotel in Washington. The bride is concerned "What if the place is still bugged?"

The groom says, "I'll look for a bug." He looks behind the drapes, behind the pictures, under the rug "AHA!"

Under the rug was a disc with four screws. He gets his Swiss army knife, unscrews the screws, throws them and the disc out the window.

The next morning, the hotel manager asks the newlyweds "How was your room? How was the service? How was your stay at the Watergate Hotel?"

The groom says, "Why are you asking me all of these questions?"

The hotel manager says, "Well, the room under you complained about the chandelier falling on them!"


Three hillbillies are sitting on their porch in Arkansas. One says, "Boy is my wife dumb. She's so stupid that she went shoppin' today and bought an air-conditioner. Hell, we ain't got electricity!"

The others laugh. Then the other guy says, "Ah that ain't nothin', my wife's dumber than that! She went shoppin' yesterday and had a washin' machine delivered."

They all laughed and laughed. He went on, "Why nobody around here has plumbing!"

The third hillbilly said, "Well, I reckon my womans got to be the dumbest. Just this morning I was looking in her purse for some change and found six rubbers. Hell, she ain't got no dick!"


A man was having problems with premature ejaculation so he decided to go to the doctor. He asked the doctor what he could do to cure his problem. In response, the doctor said, "When you feel like you are getting ready to ejaculate, try startling yourself."

That same day the man went to the store and bought himself a starter pistol. All excited to try this suggestion, he ran home to his wife. At home, he found his wife was in bed, naked and waiting.

As the two began, they found themselves in the 69 position. The man, moments later, felt the sudden urge to ejaculate and fired the starter pistol.

The next day, the man went back to the doctor. The doctor asked, "How did it go?"

The man answered, "Not that well... When I fired the pistol, my wife shit on my face, bit three inches off my penis, and my neighbor came out of the closet with his hands in the air!"

2nd Honeymoon

The old couple were planning to go on a second honeymoon for their 50th wedding anniversary.

The old woman said, "We will go to all the same places that we did on our first honeymoon."

"Uh huh," said the old man.

"We will do all the things that we did on our first honeymoon," said the old woman.

"Uh huh," said the old man.

"And we will make love like we did on our first honeymoon," said the old woman.

"That's right," said the old man, "except this time I get to sit on the side of the bed and cry, 'It's too big, it's too big!'"

Honeymoon - Another Load

A young couple got married. On their honeymoon, they were very anxious about having sex because they were both virgins. Because of their sexual inexperience, they were a bit uncomfortable discussing the subject so they came up with the term "doing the laundry" to use in place of "having sex." This made them both more comfortable with the whole concept.

Well, the first night of their honeymoon was wonderful. They "did the laundry" 5 times that first night. In the middle of the night the new husband woke up, and he was ready to do the laundry again. He gently shook his new wife and asked her, "Can we do the laundry again?" but she was very tired. She told him that she just couldn't do it again just yet. Maybe in the morning.

A few hours later the new wife awoke feeling very guilty. What he had asked for wasn't unreasonable, and she decided she should go ahead and "do the laundry" with him again. She gently shook him and said, "Honey, I'm sorry I denied you... We can do the laundry again if you want."

He replied, "That's ok... It was a small load... I did it by hand."

Luigi's Honeymoon

Back in the glorious days of luxury train travel, Luigi and his new bride, Virginia, honeymooned in Florida by train. Upon his return, Luigi stopped by the Italian-American Club in his old neighborhood and all his friends wanted to hear the details about his trip.

Luigi said, “Ever’thing was’a perfect except for da train ride’a down. That train has’a too many rules!”

“What’a you mean, Luigi?” asked a friend.

“Well, it’sa like ‘dis. We board’a da train atta Grand Central Station. My beautiful’a Virginia had packed a big’a basket a food an’ vino an’ cigars for da trip. Ever’thing was okay until we got’a hungry and I opened up’a Virginia’s lunch’a basket. The conductor come by, wagged his’a finger at us and’a say, ‘No eat in dese’a car. Must’a use’a dining car.’

So, me and my Virginia we go to da dining car, eat our big’a lunch and open’a our bottle of vino. Conductor come again, wag his’a finger and say, ‘No drink’a in dese’a car. Must’a use’a club’a car.’

So we go to club’a car. While we drink da vino, I light’a my big’a cigar. An’ don’cha know that same conductor came by again, waggin’ his a’finger and say, ‘No smoke’a in dese’a car. Must’a go to smoker car.’

So we go to da smoker car and I smoke’a my cigar. Later, my beautiful Virginia and I, we go to our sleeper car and’a we go to bed. And we were just about to have’a sex when that conductor come’a through yelling, ‘No’folk’a, Virginia!’”


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Obama's Pork

The following was sent to me a while back from a sometimes contributor, John Bell. I had forgotten about it and decided it was time to correct the oversight.

Obama’s Porky’s IV: Yes I Can

WASHINGTON – Taxpayers against Wasteful Government Spending has identified 8500 projects at a cost of $17.7 billion in President Obama’s 2009 Omnibus Appropriations Act of $410 billion. Here are just a few:

~$1.7 million for The GOB Foundation in Spit, TX

~$2.6 million for the study of Toe Jam, Boogers and Earwax Research Center in Crappo, MD

~$1.2 million for The Underarm and Pubic Hair Museum in Hygiene, CO

~$2.3 million for the study of What a Drag it is Getting Old in Stones, AL

~$1.8 million for research into used condoms in Protection, KS

~$1.6 million for Jewish and Muslim Politicians’ Alliance Coalition on voting for pork amendments, Crooks, SD

~$1.5 million for Women’s Foundation on Stress when your Panties get in a Bunch, Tingley, IA

~$1.8 million to The La La Land Institute on the pronunciation of Cal-ee-fornia vs. Cal-a-fornia, Beverly Hills, 90210

~$99.99 to The Men’s Fashion Institute for the study of hanging left vs. the right side of the male appendage, Blue Ball, PA

~$2.6 million to study the impact of hemorrhoids on global warming Gore, TN

~ $4.9 million to have Rock Paper Scissors as a competitive sport at the next Summer Olympics, Doofus, VT

When asked to comment Senator Charles Schumer NY, said, Americans “really don’t care” about “those little, tiny, yes, porky amendments.”

Miss Piggy, Canadian bacon and Porky Pig demanded an immediate apology from the Senator.

The following pic was received from my daughter, Gretchen.

This Parade Float Begs For Answer to 2 Questions

-{1} - Is That Hillary?
-{2} - What's she holding onto?
His stimulus package.


Tuesday, May 19, 2009



What A Ride!

You don't have to be a Trekkie to enjoy this movie!

On Sunday my daughter, my son-in-law and I went to see the latest addition to the Star Trek franchise.

On what was my first trip to an IMAX theater I could not have picked a better movie to experience sitting in front of a screen 52 feet high by 72 feet wide.

If it isn't mind-boggling enough to watch a film on such an enormous screen, but every explosion can be felt as vibrations within the seats.

The movie is a reboot of the original TV series and reveals how the original crew came together. Updated with today's special effects it is easily the Star Trek film to date. We can be certain that there will more films in the series to come.

If you haven't seen the movie yet, it's a must see if you are a fan of Star Trek. If there is an IMAX theater near you and this movie is playing there - GO - go see it! You won't be sorry.

WOW! What A Ride!

Speaking of rides...

What's the best way to get into a sleeping bag?
Wake her up first.

☺ ☺ ☺ ☺ ☺

A young woman ran to her mother and said ecstatically, "Tim passed his bar exam, so we're going to get married next spring."

"Gee, honey," her mother replied, "he'll be real busy. Don't you think you two should wait till he's been practicing for a year or so?"

'Oh, Mom," the daughter said, blushing, "we've been practicing."

☺ ☺ ☺ ☺ ☺

Any guy thinking about asking a woman for hand in marriage should look at all the definitions of "engagement." One reads, "to do battle with the enemy."

☺ ☺ ☺ ☺ ☺

The recently married young woman was weeping and pouring out her heart to a marriage counselor. "Isn't there some way - without turning into a nag - that I can keep my husband in line?"

"Well," he said, "maybe that's the problem. Your husband shouldn't have to wait in line."

Drug Trafficking is Bigger Problem Than We Think



Monday, May 18, 2009

The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray (50)

Part 50 of an original tale that delves into the unexplored realms of the human mind. Hired by her lover to find a raven haired beauty, Benjamin Bering must avoid the local police as well as the agents of a nonexistent government agency who are after him and the woman. There are just two problems. The woman is in a coma and her body has been stolen. (Part 1 can be found HERE.)

Empire of the Sons

My resolve steeled by anger-charged determination I said to Rosie, "I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I'll find out where they've taken Susan! If you're up to it, we'll confront Bishop King together."

She too was angry, but she was still overcome with grief. "You go ahead, Ben. I'll be along shortly," she replied. "I need to think, to gather myself."

I barged through the door into the lab area and ran up to King. "What's going on King? Where did they take her? Why did Faye get on that chopper? Why wasn't her mother allowed to go with her?" I grabbed his collar and said, "I know you can have me fired in a heartbeat, but I'm sick and tired of all these clandestine operations. It's time for you to come clean."

He straightened his shirt when I let go and responded, "There wasn't time to confer with you. The girl ... Susan ... was going to die. Inducing a coma bought her some time." He spread his hands, "I don't know what Faye is up to. I told her to make her sister comfortable and to help her onto the helicopter."

"Tell that woman to one thing and she'll do the exact opposite!" I quipped. I looked over at Brock O'Day who had been unusually quiet for some time and said, "Sorry, Brock."

He nodded and replied, "No need to apologize, Ben. You pretty much hit the nail square on the head." He grinned and added, "Don't tell her I said so."

"Mr. Bering ... Ben, my chopper is flying her to a private wing of the Mass General Hospital. Before you ask, the wing is solely funded by me, and in exchange for the availability of the best doctors and care I also contribute one million dollars annually to the hospital's general research fund. Your Susan will receive the best possible care there is."

I sighed, "...And the best that money can buy, eh? For that, I am thankful."

"I must admit that I can buy anything I want and pretty much buy anyone." He positioned himself until he had made eye contact with everyone present. "People, Mr. Bering said that it was time for me to come clean. I agree. To begin, I'll address the question Ben asked me before he rushed to the lobby out of concern for the injured young woman." He paused to study our attentive faces, especially mine which was displaying a gaping mouth.

"Yes Mr. Bering, I was indeed speaking from experience when it came to the subject of swapping minds into different bodies. Let me see, what did you call it? Ah yes, perpetual immortality!"

"My God!" Michelle exclaimed. "Just how many times have you done this?"

He acknowledged her and replied instead with a question of his own, "Ms Gray, allow me to put it to you this way; How old would you guess me to be?"

She thought for a moment and answered, "Oh, I'd say mid to late fifties."

He smiled, "If you are aging this body, you'd be correct." He cleared his throat and continued, "As for my mind, or if you'd prefer my soul, you aren't even close!"

There was a hush among all present. In turn, we each exchanged glances with those standing around us. Too stunned to speak, King's revelation evoked no verbal responses.

He loosened his tie and espoused, "My real name is Ernst Fischer. I was born in Baden Baden, Germany in 1848!"

"Great Scott!" Stu bellowed. "That would make you ... one hundred sixty-one years old! That's impossible!"

Michelle barged forth and vented, "That's what's this is all about? Immortality? You've been cheating death all those years so that you can live forever?" She glared at him before continuing, "What makes you think you have the right to play God?"

"Believe me, Ms Gray," King responded, "I have no aspirations for infringing upon the enterprises of the Man upstairs."

"No? Then what of those who have died so that your secrets could be preserved?" She took a deep breath and turned to the rest of us and said, "How many of us here today are going to die, Mr. King? How many will be sacrificed this time to protect your precious hold on eternity?"

Stu spoke up, "Bishop, when you approached me with your plan, you never mentioned the mind reading, the mind control ... and most certainly there was no hint at mind swapping. You said wanted the world to know about the medical applications that would revolutionize surgical medicine."

"Yes, that's true, Stu. All I wanted was to end the exclusivity of the research by the government and the military. Had they allowed it, they could have had their cake and eaten it too, and many lives could have been saved in the O.R.s across the country. Alas, they would have no part of it. They wanted complete control."

I had been undergoing a slow boil during the exchange between between Stu and King, "You knew about the story ... even before I received that e-mail? What else did you keep from me?"

"Nothing significant," King answered in Stu's stead. I saw that Stu was nodding his head in agreement. "You see, Mr. Bering, the less people involved and the less they knew the better for all parties. I couldn't even let Michelle and Michael know that I shared their sentiments. It was important that I appeared to be a part of the conspiracy."

"So you threw all your eggs in one basket, figuring that the story being made public would force the Feds and the military to concede," I opined. "Yet with all your planning, they managed to find out about it anyway and in time to keep the story off the street." I paused and studied his face for a moment before asking, "How do you suppose they found out?"

It was with a sarcastic laugh that Brock O'Day offered, "You need to look no further than at a certain ambitious receptionist. It seems that a long estranged father and his daughter have become quite cozy lately."

King grimaced and mused, "... And it was Gates who insisted that she be hired!"

Michelle appeared to be confused when she interjected, "Michael and I reached the decision independently to go to the press. We even hand-picked Benjamin Bering as the reporter we wanted to cover the story. You're suggesting that it was you who contacted the newspaper."

"Michelle, I'm surprised that you are overlooking the trace imprints, those subtle by-products of the mind links," he said to her. "You knew that you were once linked with Mr. Bering. When you and Michael discussed the press, the name of Mr. Bering and his image rose to the forefront of your thoughts. I simply anticipated that you would turn to the newspaper which employed him."

It was somewhat unsettling, but King's words were making sense to me. One point eluded me however and I asked, "How is that Michelle remembers our ...ah, linkage, but I cannot?"

"All of the test subjects were injected with a drug that suppressed the short-term memory associated with their most recent sexual activity. Having said that, Mr. Bering, it is quite possible that those subjects could experience deja vu-like moments as a result of those trace imprints," King replied peering directly at me. "I assume you have experienced this?"

I nodded but did not verbally reply. His answer to my question had explained why Susan and I had had shared memories of the same song. Was the sexual tension between us at Rosie's house the catalyst that evoked the song to play in both our heads? Or was it the song that brought about our sexual attraction to each other? Then there was the matter of our first interlude eight years earlier. Although we hadn't recognized each other, the memory of that night may have been drawn forth because of the song. I sighed in dismay, as I realized it was like the classic 'chicken or the egg' scenario.

"We need no introduction, Mr. King, "O'Day said, "but for the benefit of those who aren't in the know, you and I worked together on your research in Vietnam. I remember that you were well prepared and knew exactly what you were doing and what was to be expected of your tests. That told me that you had been working on that research prior to the war in Southeast Asia. Dare I ask just how long you've been playing around with people's minds? Did you acquire the knowledge of this particular ... science on your own?"

He cleared his throat and began, "It's been a long time since I've reflected on my past. I suppose I should begin with my early schooling where I showed an aptitude for science. After University, I taught Science and Physics for a number of years as a young man until I moved to Berlin and took a position in Germany's Ministry of Education and Research. During the months before Archduke Ferdinand of Austria was assassinated in 1914, Germany's top scientists were forced into the service of the country's war machine. Some of those scientists helped to develop the poisonous gases and the delivery systems that were unleashed on the British and American forces."

He studied each and every one of our faces before continuing. "My conscience is clear on the matters of chemical warfare. I was assigned to a team who studied techniques of interrogation, hypnosis, and yes, methods of mind control. When the war ended in 1918 I was 70, a tired old man. By then I had begun to experience a series of heart problems and had slowed down considerably."

I don't know if he was waiting for our cries of disapproval, but once again he let his eyes roam over our ranks. Nonplussed he picked up his story where he'd left off moments before, "During that time Germany was in a state of disarray as the Allied nations chopped her up and dismantled her ability to make war. With the aid of a young Jewish assistant I was able to continue my work in relative anonymity. I can take little credit as my assistant and I developed, by today's standard, crude head pieces that allowed us to exchange rudimentary thoughts - a word or two here and there. I became excited and soon was obsessed with the possibilities of our work. Unfortunately the excitement was becoming too much for my heart to bear."

He directed his next words to Michelle, "You asked me how many had to die so that I could pursue immortality. Well, in 1938 I was faced for the first time with that very question. The Nazis, led by an obvious mad man had taken control of the government. I could feel the winds of war in the air. As had been the case twenty-five years earlier, scientists were being pressed into service under the vigil of Hitler's ever present SS and the Gestapo. Walter Rabinowitz, my Jewish assistant of over twenty years had far more to worry about than I."

"So why let the Jew die in a Nazi death camp, eh?" I said with acerbic sarcasm. "You decided his death could better serve you in another way."

King nodded with a slight trace of regret on his face. "Walter was a good man and a trusted friend, but I was desperate. I didn't want to die and not see my work reach its fruition. Walter did not want to be taken by the Nazis. It was only a theory, but he and I had recently discussed the possibility of transferring minds from one body to another. We'd already had limited success with a few lab animals, but we didn't know if the process was possible with human beings."

"Of course the transfer was a success," I announced. "Young Walter awoke and found himself in a ninety-year-old body with a bad ticker, while you had become a young healthy Jewish man. That left you with a major problem, didn't it? You had to flee the Nazi tyranny!"

King spread his hands before him in acknowledgment, "Yes. I had no alternative. If I wanted to continue to live I had get the hell out of Germany."

The young intern David said, "That makes Mr. Rabinowitz the first of your "sons" on the way to building the empire you have today ... Your Empire of Sons."

(To be continued in Part 51, on Friday, 5/22, with The Trail of Blood.)