ROTD Riddle of the Day

What letter is next in this sequence?
O T T F F S S E _

ROTD Riddle of the Day

An easy one. If Dick's father is Tom's son, what relation is Dick to Tom?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

Name the word of three syllables, that when you take away five letters a male will remain. If you take away four letters, a female will remain. If you take away three lettters, a great man will appear. The entire word shows you what Joan of Arc was.

ROTD Riddle of the Day

What three letter word can prefix the following three words to make three new words? Ache, Nest, and Drum.

ROTD Riddle of the Day

The rungs of a 10 foot ladder attached to a ship are 1 foot apart.
If the water is rising at the rate of one foot an hour, how long will it take until the water covers over the ladder?

I apologize for no new real post, been too busy and uninspired, hopefully soon. Thank you for continuing to drop by.

ROTD Riddle of the Day

A pregnant lady named her children: Dominique, Regis, Michelle, Fawn, Sophie and Lara.
What will she name her next child? Jessica, Katie, Abby or Tilly?

WALK NOW Houston 2004 - Marc's Donation Page

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Please sponsor us or come walk with us. Thank you!

WALK NOW Houston 2004 - General Donation

ROTD Riddle of the Day

With pointed fangs it sits in wait,
With piercing force its doles out fate,
Over bloodless victims proclaiming its might,
Eternally joining in a single bite.
What am I?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

Light as a feather, nothing in it.
A strong man can't hold it more than a minute.
What is it?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

What english word has three consecutive double letters?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

What happened in 1961 that will not happen again for over 4000 years?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

What has six faces,
But does not wear makeup.
It also has twenty-one eyes,
But cannot see?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

What's black when you get it,
Red when you use it,
And white when you're all through with it?

ROTD Riddle of the Day

What's so peculiar about this sentence?

I do not know where family doctors acquired illegibly perplexing handwriting; nevertheless, extraordinary pharmaceutical intellectuality, counterbalancing indecipherability, transcendentalizes intercommunications' incomprehensibleness.

Peanut Butter Crackers

Whenever the question of superior intelligence between My Wife and I rears its ugly head, all My Wife has to do is utter those three little words that strikes like a lightening bolt to my male ego, knocking me quickly from King of the Castle to Court Jester.

"Peanut butter crackers," she said quietly, making her point of superiority.

"Aauugh," I cried in my best Charlie Brown voice. "It wasn't my fault there were circumstances." But my pleas fell on deaf ears. Lucy had beaten me, again.

To understand the true meaning of 'Peanut butter crackers' you must go back in time, almost thirteen years, to the birth of my first son.

The doctor had decided to induce labor, estimating the baby to already be about 8 1/2 pounds. So, a little after 6:00 am on this momentous day, My Wife was hooked up to an I.V. and some kind of monitor and the adventure began.

By 1:00 in the afternoon, I was asking for drugs. It was excrutiating, for me. I kept telling her that 'I felt her pain' everytime she had a contraction but I could tell by the bitter look on her contorted face that she didn't believe me.

Anyway, by 5:00, the doctor decided to stop the drugs that induced contractions and let My Wife rest for the night and begin again in the morning.

My hungry stomach was growling my name and I knew I needed to go home and feed our pets before they ate each other so I asked My Wife if there was anything I could get her.

"Peanut butter crackers," she murmured wearily.

So, I left the hospital to do my chores. When I returned My Wife was happy to see me, she had not eaten since the night before. She was happy, that is, until I handed her the crumpled brown paper bag. Her forehead wrinkled into a frown.

"I didn't know what to put them in," I said defensively.

She slowly opened the bag and pulled out the folded piece of wax paper. Her frown grew into an incredulous scowl as she ever so slowly unfolded the wax paper. I knew something was terribly wrong, the hairs on my neck were standing on end.

"What the hell is this?" she cried, as she stared at the globs of peanut butter stuck to the wax paper with some saltine crackers mixed in.

"Peanut butter crackers," I mumbled. She looked up at me in horror with her mouth hanging open.

"Are you insane?" she said.

"I didn't know how to make them," I cried. "I didn't know how to keep the peanut butter from sticking to the wax paper."

"You couldn't figure out to put a second cracker on top of the peanut butter?" she spoke very slowly so I would understand, "I have seen you eat them before. The little snack packs you get from the convenience store."

And then the light bulb flickered on.

"Oh, you mean peanut butter cracker sandwiches!" I said. "Well, you should have said sandwiches."

"What?! What?! You are unbelievable," she exclaimed (and not in a nice way). "Look at this mess." She shook her head sadly. The saltines looked like little white rafts caught in a brown gooey cesspool.

"I can't help it," I cried. "I'm about to a be a dad for the first time! I don't know what I'm doing! I'm not responsible."

My Wife was unmoved by my heartfelt plea. She just shook her head sadly and stared, mesmerized, at the mess I had made.

Thus, began the saga of 'Peanut Butter Crackers'.

She tells me it still ranks as number one on the list of unbelievable things I have said and done. A list which is ever growing.

ROTD Riddle of the Day

We're 5 little items of an everyday sort, you'll find us all in A Tennis Court. What are we?

ROTD

I am as cold as death, but ever breathing.
Never thirsty, but ever drinking.
Covered in mail, but never clinking.
What am I?

ROTD

My thunder comes before my lightning.
My lightning comes before my rain.
My rain dries up all the land it touches.
What am I?

ROTD

This garble makes sense if you can decode it:YYUR-YYUB-ICURYY4ME

ROTD

What occurs once in every minute, twice in every moment, yet never in a thousand years?

Warning!!!

Medicines should be labeled more accurately. "Warning: May cause excitability in children" should actually read, "WARNING!!! Will cause mind-numbing stupor in parents!".

As My Wife and I attempted to watch a movie last night, my five-year-old embarked upon his six hour talk marathon fueled by his prescription cough medicine. He has a cold with a cough at the moment, not that that slows him down.

I missed the first few minutes of the movie while trying to fix a program on my son's computer, this was foreshadowing. Throughout the course of the movie while straining to hear the dialogue over the non-stop verbal barrage we also had to play tag, be adorned with Rugrat tattoos and discuss the decorations for his birthday party which is not until December.

Clueless as I am, I said to My Wife, "Wow, he's really wound up tonight."
She replied, nonchalantly, "It's the cough medicine. It always has that effect on him."
"What?!? Are you crazy?!! Why would you give him something to make him more hyper?"
"Look at him," she said quietly, "He's only coughed one since I gave him the medicine."
"Yeah, but..." I mumbled.
"You have to take the bad with the good," she said.

And I couldn't be upset with my son, even though he had worn me out with the constant sound of his little voice, because he was being very sweet despite feeling so bad.

When he told me, "Daddy, you can have the Chuckie tattoo because you're my best friend," I knew My Wife was right, you have to take the bad with the good.

And, in hindsight, sometimes the bad isn't really all that bad.

ROTD

Leave your answer in the comments section and I'll give the correct answer in the comments section the next day.

George, Helen, and Steve are drinking coffee.Bert, Karen, and Dave are drinking soda.Using logic, is Elizabeth drinking coffee or soda?

What's the answer and why?

ROTD

(In an effort to keep fresh content on my blog and since I know I won't post a new story everyday, My Wife suggested posting a daily riddle. I'll leave the answer in the Comments section. Let me know what you think of this idea.)

A woman has 7 children, half of them are boys.How can this be possible?

I'm Still Eighteen!

In my head, I am still eighteen.

In my head, I am cool and studly.

Well, OK, maybe my head was the only place I was ever cool and studly.

But the thing of it is, while I might still be doing the Time Warp in my head, the rest of me is slowly stumbling towards decreptitude.

My hearing is departing, my knees are deteriorating and I can't watch TV without falling asleep.

What the hell has happened to me? Once upon a time I could rock 'n' roll all night and party every day. And in my mind, I could still do that. But, all my traitorous old body wants to do is be seduced, once again, by "the comfortable chair". Two minutes in that chair and my head is bobbing backwards and then the sound of snoring ensues, not unlike that of a contented kitten's purr.

But I'm not ready to give into middle-age just yet. The other day, I told My Wife, "The next time my class has a high school reunion, I want to go. I keep seeing guys about my age who are balding. And look at this." I bent over and ruffled my full head of hair.
"You want to show them gray hair?"
"No," I said confidently, "A full, thick head of hair."
"Gray hair," she muttered.
"That doesn't matter," I retorted, not letting her sarcasm besmirch my pride in my full head of hair. "Look how thick it is." I bent over again to prove my point.
"But it's gray."
I shook my head and shuffled off. She was missing the point (she always does).

And then today, the unthinkable happened.

I was at the drive-thru window at Wendy's with my five-year-old, getting him a kid's meal, when the girl at the pick-up window said,

"Oh, is that your Grandson?"

Oh well. What can I say? I have to admit my body is in the full throes of adulthood. But in my head, KISS rules and the music is NEVER too loud.

Three Days, no new post, c'mon!
I apologize. Keep checking back. I'll try to have something up tomorrow.
Thank you for visiting.

Honesty

Honesty is the best policy.

Sometimes.

But more often than not, a well thought out variation of honesty is actually better.

For example, if your wife asks, "Does this make me look fat?", irregardless of what the honest answer might be, the best answer is, of course, a simple "No".

I have learned the hard way that truth, like everything else in life, is relative to one's perception. There have been moments when for lack of not thinking before speaking, I have let the real truth slip out.

Case and point. A year or so after My Wife and I were married, ages and ages ago, we were arguing about something, I don't remember what, but she said "What happened to you? When we were dating you used to always agree with me." And I made the huge mistake of accidentally speaking the 'honest' truth, "That's because I wanted you to like me!" I knew by the shocked look on her face as the words blurted out of my mouth that I had jokingly said the wrong thing. "What???"

That was a long time ago and I still hear about that one all the time. It is high up there on her list of "unbelievable" things I have said and done.

Another "incident" happened about a year ago. A series of events brought about my driving to the Medical Center, here in Houston, almost daily for about 3 weeks. First, I was visiting my niece who had been in a bad car accident and then my youngest son was hospitalized for a week with a low platelet disorder. Anyway, to make a long story longer, after my son came home, My Wife and I had to take him back every few days to have his platelets checked. While driving the usual route back to the hospital I pointed out which building my niece had been in and where I had parked and so, and My Wife asked, "What's up with that log cabin over there?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"The log cabin back there on the corner", she said.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I said as I drove on.
"How could you not notice a log cabin surrounded by high-rise buildings?" she asked incredulously.
And then I revealed the honest truth, "If its not about me, I don't notice it."
"What???"
"It's a guy thing," I feebly tried to explain. "Men just don't notice things."
"So, what you are saying is, ALL men are blind morons?" she pressed further.
"Yes. No. Maybe," I stammered crumbling under cross examination, "I'm confused."
And, of course, my older son was in the backseat laughing his ass off, pointing his finger at me and hollering "Ha Ha" like the Nelson character on The Simpsons.
If only I had remembered my usual reply of, "Hmmmm, I don't know," I would have been safe.

P. S. to Pet Peeves

I asked My Wife what her biggest pet peeve was and she didn't even have to stop to think about it.

She said, "Hmmm, that would have to be you."

I tried to think of some smart ass come back and then I thought about what I had wrote, "That singular irritation that can turn an otherwise calm, cool and collected individual into a ranting, raving maniac."

Yeah, I guess that could be me.

Pet Peeves!!!

We all have them.

Those singular irritations that can turn an otherwise calm, cool and collected individual into a ranting, raving maniac.

Let me tell you about mine then I'd like to hear some of yours, leave comments.

Every morning I walk outside with my son Ryan to watch him cross the street to get on the school bus. Not that he can't manage that feat on his own. He can. I think... But because the majority of drivers in our subdivision breeze through the 4-way stop sign by our house without even slowing down.

This is, without a doubt, my BIGGEST pet peeve.

We live in your typical suburban neighborhood and our house is on a small circle just off this 4-way stop which is at the entrance of our subdivision. And I am daily stunned by the number of people who run the stop signs. And it runs the gamut from drivers who do a rolling stop to those who slow down to see if anyone is coming then run the stop sign to those who are speeding to begin with and just fly through the intersection like a fast and furious stuntman. To hell with people crossing the streets.

My wife has tried to discourage me from standing on the corner shouting at people to SLOW DOWN and STOP! She says people will think I'm the neighborhood scary, old, crazy guy. I'm not that old (despite the premature graying).

But I have to do something.

I have asked the board members of our subdivision to put in a speed bump but they said no. My wife suggested that I video tape the offenders and show the video at the next board meeting and that that would be the reasonable thing to do.

But I think I'd rather take the law into my own hands because I believe it would be much more rewarding. So, I am presently awaiting my paintball gun license to be approved. My Rambo fatigues are ready and waiting and I'm just itching to bag me a few SUVs.

We'll see who's the neighborhood crazy guy when I go medieval on their bumpers!

I was hoping to have a new story for you everyday but...

As John Lennon once said -""Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

I should have something up later tonight. Thanks for stopping by.