A Week's Worth Of GREAT Reading Just For You!!! Howdy's address: UNLV_humor_club-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
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"Thought & Humor" has been read in all 50 States, 70 Countries, 7 Continents, many Island Nations, Oxford, Cambridge, every Ivy League School & all major American Universities including UNC!!!
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The phone rang at night. "What is it?" asked the UNC grad.
"It's a Long Distance from New York," replied the operator.
"I know it is," said the UNC grad, and went back to bed.
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If you would like to write Howdy (he reads all of them), send an amicable, meticulous, penurious or factious e-mail to:
Howdy's address: http://write-howdy.blogspot.com/
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Your newsletter is funny and informative but I never seem to have time to read it. Thanks anyway! Eden
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Ok, my kids just informed me that they read it all the time and love it. So please keep sending it! Thanks, Eden
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that is sooo cute i love it! ,.......tho it is really sad ,...all of the little chicks died! *sniff*
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I would be interested in receiving your E-Mail Newspaper. Thank you, ESF
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1. No, but I'd like to. 2. It's better than making fun of Vanderbilt 3. I'll find someone else to forward to since my friend will now receive her own copy. 4. I hope Vanderbilt will. They have a pretty good team this year with great leadership from their seniors. So far we've won 10 and lost 1. S.H.
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Your jokes are pathetic. Unsubscribe me now, I can't waste my time to get into your website and potentially receive even more bland, readers digest humor or "buy my blender" ads. Oh, by the way did I mention your jokes spew? Oh I did. Thanks. Take me off your mailing list. And if but one of your editors had even a shekel of a biblical education, he'd or she'd be humiliated by the nonsense you promote. Thanks Take me off your mailing list. I love you. Thanks. Here's a joke for you. What did one devout christian say to the other? Who knows, but you can bet it was self righteous, plagerized and pertained to paying taxes like a good slave. Oh, did I mention take me off your mailing list? yes
K.B.
Please note that our policy allows for us to receive threats on alternate Tuesdays when the Moon is waning only...
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Barber shops are interesting places to do a study of the male half of the human race. It's really "Guy's World." That's what made me take special notice of the dad who came in last week with his two young daughters. They were doing fine, and it was really neat to see how the three of them got along. But you just don't usually see many females in the barber shop. I smiled at that dad and I said, "Your daughters are really well-behaved. It must be interesting for them to be here. It's kind of a 'guy's world,' isn't it?" Yeah," he replied. "Not much talking."
Now if you ask most women, that's part of the problem in our relationships. This guy thing called "not much talking." Or at least not much talking about what's really going on inside us. Oh, we'll talk about work and sports and cars and "stuff." But too many men just don't talk much about what they're feeling ... about what they need ... about what's hurting, what they're hoping for, what's wrong.
It was never meant to be this way. Just go back to the creation of guys. Adam was king of his domain there in the Garden of Eden, managing things for His Creator. But even with all of that - according to Genesis 2:18, our word for today from the Word of God - "the Lord God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him." So, God created woman because a man's work and achievements could never be enough to complete him - he needed relationship. He needed someone outside of himself to share his life with.
Man was never meant to be an island, keeping everything to himself. We were never meant to be some Lone Ranger, wearing a mask to cover up our identity. God made us to need a shared life. But sadly, a lot of men have somewhere bought the lie that manhood means keeping your deepest feelings to yourself. Some of us got it from a father who seldom let anyone into what was behind his macho mask. And if you had a dad like that, you know how frustrating it was to never really know where you stood with him ... to wish that he would express his love to you, his approval, his joy, even his hurts. Then we grow up and we repeat the cycle and do it to those we love.
The people who love you and the people you love desperately need for you to express your tenderness, and your hurts, and your expectations, your needs. If you could just risk letting them know that you don't have it all together - that sometimes you're weak, you struggle, you're unsure - it would open up a depth of closeness and healing you never thought you could experience. And if you're a woman in the life of a man who struggles to express his feelings, be very careful when he does. Some men don't say it because of the harsh things that happen when they do.
Men who don't talk much, who don't express what's inside, end up leaving a painful trail of tears around them - frustrated sons, wives who don't know where they stand, daughters who are love-starved - and terribly vulnerable to the sexual mistakes of a girl who's unsure of her father's love.
One thing I love about Jesus is that He sets men free to feel, to forgive, to love. Because they've experienced His love and forgiveness - as men who have accepted for themselves His sacrifice on the cross for their sins. Which, if you've never done that, is a step I pray you'll take this very day. I've written a booklet about this relationship. It's called "Yours For Life." And I'd like to send it to you, if you'll just let me know you want it.
It doesn't have to be so lonely, so full of hurt that's built up inside like a volcano. The man who risks letting people inside is a man who is finally free. And a man who is giving the people he loves one of the greatest gifts he can give them - himself. Ron Hutchcraft
Listen with RealAudio! http://www.gospelcom.net/rhm/sounds/awwy/awwy4309.ram
One of the reasons for the success of the internet is its open, peer-to-peer nature. All computers on the internet are equal, and in the past it hasn't mattered whether your computer is a 386 in Nguru on the end of a satellite phone or a big monster in a New York rack. If that ever changes, I think we will lose part of the essential, vital character of the internet. Doug Winter
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After a long day on the course, the exasperated golfer turned to his caddy and said, "You must be the absolute worst caddy in the world!"
"No, I don't think so," said the caddy. "That would be too much of a coincidence."
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One afternoon The Sea rolled into the office of Dr. Alfred Werner, clinical psychologist. The doctor smiled; he hadn't seen his old friend in ages.
"Well, well! Long time no sea! How are you doing?"
"Swell," replied the Sea saltily.
"Then what, Pacifically, is the problem?"
"Well," the Sea swished sadly, "I'm getting tired of just going in and out every day, in and out, in and out, in and--"
"I understand," Dr. Werner interrupted hastily, "but I fear there's nothing to be done about it. For you see, my friend, you're just fit to be tide."
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Faith and love are apt to be spasmodic in the best of minds. Men and women live on the brink of mysteries and harmonies into which they never enter and with their hand on the doorlatch they die outside. GK Chesterton
-- Phineas T. Barnum - April 7, 1891 Born July 5, 1810 Legendary 19th Century American showman and circus promoter. Best remembered for founding the first modern three-ring circus, which also would eventually became the biggest and most important circus in the world, the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus. In Brooklyn, New York in 1871, he established the "Greatest Show on Earth," a traveling amalgamation of circus, menagerie and museum of "freaks" which became the first modern three-ring circus. In 1881 he merged with James Bailey to create the Barnum & Bailey Circus, which toured around the world. The show's primary attraction was Jumbo, an African elephant he purchased from the London Zoo. Years after his death, his circus was sold to Ringling Brothers to form what would become the Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Circus.