Sgt. C.J. Sabre, SASS #46770

Sore Loser?

Some of them would need to download one first.

Don't let Subdeacon Joe see that!

Itell a lot of stories from my younger years. Some of them are even true.

Any chance Skippy's name was Carl?

Well Disney has this guy greeting your daughters at the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique, so "Snow White" Might just be an off duty employee.

Shrinkflation.

THAT'S what our tax dollars are paying for.

And Hardly Ablesons use Japanese electronics and Chinese tires.

Those aren't flip flops. They're slides.

They "know" what the weather is going to be if we don't pay higher taxes to fight "Global Warming".

My Mom had a '65 Dodge Dart with this.

Eloquently said.

Sign on the staircase to Air Force One.

If somebody's got fleas and ticks THERE, I REALLY don't want to know!

Redneck Bidet? Or is there something that we don't know?

I don't bother 'cause I never did.

"READY ON THE RIGHT! READY ON THE LEFT! ALL READY ON THE FIRING LINE!"

Oh what the heck...

Competing with THIS guy?

This is the sign for the Triple T Truck Stop here In Tucson. You can see this sign for miles. At one time, the center cross bar was burned out. Use your imagination.

Don't have to worry about backblast on a 203. I was always a fan of the Buckshot rounds. I always carried a couple while at Camp Lejune. Bears, you know.

Time to review the Rules for Dating My Daughter. I showed this to my daughter when she was at that age, and told her that ANY boy she brought home would be required to read, sign, and date this. Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up. Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them. Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist. Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you. Rule Five: It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early." Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry. Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car? Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better. Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me. Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine. ********

My daughter scratched her mother's name on the door of our old Nissan P/U.

You forgot the Powdered Milk.