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Avoiding danger is no safer
in the long run than outright exposure.
Life is either a daring adventure,
or nothing.
~Helen Keller

“If men of wisdom and knowledge, of moderation and temperance, of patience, fortitude and perseverance, of sobriety and true republican simplicity of manners, of zeal for the honor of the Supreme Being and the welfare of the commonwealth; if men possessed of these other excellent qualities are chosen to fill the seats of government, we may expect that our affairs will rest on a solid and permanent foundation.” —Samuel Adams

A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead.

He remembered dying, and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them.

After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight.

When he was standing before it he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side.

When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?"

"This is Heaven, sir," the man answered.

"Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked.

"Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up."

The man gestured, and the gate began to open.

"Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets."

The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog.

After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence.

As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book.

"Excuse me!" he called to the man. "Do you have any water?"

"Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there, come on in."

"How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog.

"There should be a bowl by the pump."

They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it.

The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog.

When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree.

"What do you call this place?" the traveler asked.

"This is Heaven," he answered.

"Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was Heaven, too."

"Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope.

That's hell."

"Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?"

"No, we're just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind."

HI ALL,

IT"S MERRY CHRISTMAS MORON, IF YOU DON"T LIKE IT YOU ARE AN ANTI-CHRISTMAS COMMY QUEER AND IT"S TIME FOR YOU THE LEAVE THIS GREAT COUNTRY AND GO BACK TO WERE EVER YOU CAME FROM!!!!!!

Merry Christmas!!!!

Tags: Christ New Year Happy Merry

If you ever need insurance, don't call AIG, they are the biggest bunch of nit wits I HAVE EVER SEEN!!!!!!!!

 My car got run off the road by an 18 wheeler, I ask my insurance to take care of it, they got me a rental and told me I had it for 30 days while they got my car fixed.

They sent the appraiser out and called me and said I needed an alignment which was $132  minus my $100 deductable. Sent me a check for $32.

I went to the dealer and ask what was going on, nearly $1700 in bent parts. Did I say earlier, AIG SUX!!!!

Now I get a call from the rental company, they are not paying for my rental car after wednsday. After they told me I would have it for 30 days, AIG SUX!!!!

 Makes me want to visit them in person.!!! AIG STILL SUX!!!!!

Subject: obit

  My Father told me about Mr. Common Sense early in my life and told me
 
I would do well to call on him when making decisions. It seems he was 
always around in my early years but less and less as time passed by 
until today...I read his obituary. Please join me in a moment of
 silence 
in remembrance, for Common Sense had served us all so well for so many 
generations.

Obituary - Common Sense


Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who 
has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was 
since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as 
knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the 
worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend
 more 
than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children 
are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but 
overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old
 boy 
charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended
 
from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for 
reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the 
job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became 
contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better 
treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you 
couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the
 burglar 
can sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to 
realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in 
her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his
 
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He
 
is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know my Rights, Someone Else is to
 
Blame, and I'm a Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If 
you still remember him pass this on. If not, join the majority and do 
nothing.

Author unknown

FREAKIN" 18Wheelers!!!!

I TELL YOU WHAT, Me, the wife and the "95 Buick Roadmster nearly bought the farm to today.

I was cruising down a local 4 lane divided state hwy headed south when I saw him coming from a side road to the left, he crossed the north bound lanes and never looked up the south bound lanes. Made a left and swung all the way over to the right shoulder doing it.

I hit the brakes hard and cut to the right planning on using the shoulder as a 3rd lane BUT NO He plugged that TOO!!!

Off the road across the ditch, up the hill(brakes don't work to well on grass) Now I am driving down the side of the road on the hill passing the truck.

The ditch was a VERY hard hit, the other 2 smaller ditches were hard hits, And I kept it rolling until I found a field road to drive out.

Now the old Roadie doesn't drive right, it's going to be cold on the bike while my car get's fixed, And to add insult to injury he walks with no Failure to Yeild ticket

He did stop and I called the Hwy Patrol, made a report and got his insurance info. Don't know if it will do any good.

I have had enough of the Dukes of Hazzard flying cars for awhile, my back hurts and my neck hurts and my wife has a migrain.

I think we are going to see the doc tommorrow.

It begins as a
trickle, on the horizon you see a single rider or maybe two. Later
there’s four or five. The numbers continuing till you see groups of
twenty or more.

Even at a distance you can tell the young
bucks from the older, more experienced warriors. The young ones are
brash, careless, taking chances, they’ve something to prove. Their high
spirited mounts prance and canter beneath them, often rearing up. Some
are not even broken in yet. Often, the risk takers realize too late,
that one mistake is their last.

You can always tell the
seasoned riders by the way they sit their mounts, with dignity, pride,
in an orderly procession. If they pass close you will see long gray
braids, beards, with faces like the tanned leather they wear, weathered
by the sun, wind, and elements. The deep lines etched in their faces
are a war map of countless encounters. Piercing eyes of years of
experience have viewed every vista, mountain, valley and plain the land
has to offer.

They give a nod of respect or slight wave of the
hand as they pass by, acknowledging a brother. Perhaps they know what
you’re feeling, the anxiousness inside. Your guts twisting and churning
to saddle up and fall into their file.

Your mount seems to
sense your desires, you feel a slight quiver beneath you, anticipating,
awaiting your mental command to, "Go!" The two of you share a mystical
bond, a connection that most would never understand. But the riders
before you know well, they too share that bond with their beasts of
burden.

The chance to feel the wind in your face again, to
ride free to the predetermined gathering where leather clad men and
women will "whoop and holler". The drink will flow, wild women will
dance near naked for the crowd of raucous revelers. The music and
dancing will go on each night, old acquaintances will renew, stories
will be told, there will be contests of strength, speed, best dressed,
and for the women, least dressed. Thoroughbreds and foreign curs will
mingle in mutual respect.

But you’ve responsibilities, you’ve
taken a wife, maybe have young uns, a place to keep up, chores. But
then maybe you've chosen your mate well. She sees that look in your
eyes and says, "Go on, we'll be fine for a few days." Or better yet,
maybe you can leave the young uns with caring neighbors or relatives
and she climb on behind you. Could be she has her own mount to ride.

And
so it is with the festival with the modern festival of bikers. It's the
chance to live the outlaw life for a few precious days. The chance to
thumb your nose at an oppressive society and government with it's
increasing taxes and decreasing dollar value and say "I can still be a
biker damb you!"

Yes the biker brotherhood is similar to the
mountain men and free trappers mentality, because their spirits are one
in the same. If the mountain men of the fur trade era lived today,
they'd be bikers by god! It's the same spirit of rebellion, of freedom,
of non-conformance to the predetermined molds of the governmental
powers of then and now.

During the fur trade, the golden
fleece, the McGuffin, the central theme was the beaver plew and the
dollars it brought. But the true prizes were the spin offs from that;
the camaraderie, the excitement, the fun, and the memories.

Today
the McGuffin is a machine. With two wheels, a motor, lots of chrome.
Whether it be the king Hawg or an exotic import, Harley or rice burner,
cruiser or crotch rocket. They all being the sought after freedom of
the open road, plus the camaraderie, excitement, fun and memories.

Some
say it is the worship of a phallic symbol on wheels that gives the
rider the self proclaimed right to pound his chest, strut and express
his repressed primal macho ego. Others say it is a spiritual cleansing
like meditation, sailing on the ocean, communing with nature.

It
is the same spirit that drove the Vikings, the same valiant gallantry
of Knights of old. It is the same fearless wanderlust of early
explorers and mountain men. It is all that and more. It is the
indomitable spirit of man through out the ages who's battle cry can be
summed up in one word,...Freedom!

No, the lifestyle isn’t for everyone. But everyone should experience it before they pass judgment. If you should try