Sweet thoughts

Friendswood police bust clerk for selling generic Viagra

2009-09-10T09:03:00.000-07:00

un. 18--Friendswood police have arrested a Houston man accused of illegally selling generic Viagra at a convenience store in Friendswood.

Ashish Shrestha, 22, of Houston was arrested at the Speedy Mart convenience store at 2414 West Parkwood where he works as a clerk, Friendswood police said. He is charged with delivery of a dangerous drug, a state jail felony.

Police said that Shrestha was selling sildenafil-citrate, a generic form of Viagra, at the store.

Investigators said people complained that the store was selling the drug, which requires a prescription in the United States.

Undercover officers bought the drug, which can be bought without prescriptions in several foreign countries, at the store after hearing about the sales.

Shrestha is being held in lieu of a $5,000 bond.

Lumberjack

2008-10-31T04:36:00.001-07:00

A saw mill advertises for a timber worker. A skinny little bloke shows up at the camp the next day carrying an axe. The head timber worker takes one look at the puny bloke and tells him to get lost.

"Give me a chance to show you what I can do," says the little guy.

"Okay, see that giant redwood over there?" says the foreman. "Take your axe and cut it down."

The little bloke heads for the tree and in five minutes he's knocking on the foreman's door. "I cut the tree down," says the bloke.

The foreman can't believe his eyes and says,"Where did you learn to chop down trees like that?"

"In the Great Australian Forest," says the little fella.

"You mean the Great Australian Desert," says the foreman.

"Sure! That's what they call it now!"

What is a Grandparent?

2008-10-21T04:35:00.000-07:00

To all the wonderful grandparents, ( and those grandparents-to-be in time to come )

WHAT IS A GRANDPARENT?
(taken from papers written by a class of 8-year-olds)

Grandparents are a lady and a man who have no little children of their own. They like other people's.

A grandfather is a man & a grandmother is a lady!

Grandparents don't have to do anything except be there when we come to see them. They are so old they shouldn't play hard or run. It is good if they drive us to the shops and give us money.

When they take us for walks, they slow down past things like pretty leaves and caterpillars.

They show us and talk to us about the colors of the flowers and also why we shouldn't step on'cracks.'

They don't say, 'Hurry up.'

Usually grandmothers are fat but not too fat to tie your shoes.

They wear glasses and funny underwear.
They can take their teeth and gums out.

Grandparents don't have to be smart.

They have to answer questions like 'Why isn't God married?' and 'How come dogs chase cats?'

When they read to us, they don't skip. They don't mind if we ask for the same story over again.

Everybody should try to have a grandmother, especially if you don't have television because they are the only grownups who like to spend time with us.

They know we should have snack time before bedtime and they say prayers with us and kiss us even when we've acted bad.

A 6 YEAR OLD WAS ASKED WHERE HIS GRANDMA LIVED. ''OH,'' HE SAID, ''SHE LIVES AT THE AIRPORT AND WHEN WE WANT HER WE JUST GO GET HER THEN WHEN WE'RE DONE HAVING HER VISIT, WE TAKE HER BACK TO THE AIRPORT.''

GRANDPA IS THE SMARTEST MAN ON EARTH! HE TEACHES ME GOOD THINGS BUT I DON'T GET TO SEE HIM ENOUGH TO GET AS SMART AS HIM!

It's funny when they bend over, you hear gas leaks and they blame their dog.'
Send this to other grandparents and parents.
It will make their day.

You ever make a bet with your colon?

2008-10-17T21:32:00.001-07:00

After consuming far too much pizza and donuts during a party, I was faced with the fact I had to poo. Not the good kind that is as patient as you'd like to be; this was the kind of poo that reminds you of the screaming child in the toy store who can't wait until their birthday for a particular toy. The pizza parlor I had walked out of locked the doors behind me, and the rest of the stores in the center were closed for the night as well. I wasn't familiar with the area either, so I bet myself that the 20 minute drive home would be far quicker than driving around blindly looking for a public toilet.

My poo started throwing a tantrum about halfway home. Every pothole I hit was like the wails of my large, smelly child. The cramps were horrendous, and the squeal of every fart seemed like a pump priming itself. A PUMP OF POO!

I had to do a small dance in my car seat to deal with the pain of the impending shitstorm, and raced home ever faster as the pressure built. I tore into my apartment's parking lot and did a horrible parking job in the rush. I didn't care, because realized I was just minutes away from my toilet, but just a few seconds from a colonic disaster. I did a half jog to my room, because walking was too slow and running jarred my intestines too much. The caca countdown began. At 5 I was at my door. 4 saw me with my keys in the lock. 3 had me tearing through the living area to my bedroom door. At 2 I was in my bathroom with my pants around my ankles, and I was fumbling with my underwear. The Brown Bomb went off early, just as I was hovering over my toilet seat.

The first wave hit my undies and jeans, but luckily missed the bathroom rug. I spent a good ten minutes finishing up my dirty work before I was satisfied, and spent an additional 15 trying to get the shit out of my jeans. I simply tossed my tighty not-so-whities into the garbage. The moral of the story? Shit happens.