You know you're addicted to coffee when .. WOODEN NICKELS BACK !!!

You know you're addicted to coffee when ..

You grind your coffee beans in your mouth.

You sleep with your eyes open.

You have to watch videos in fast-forward.

The only time you're standing still is during an earthquake.

You can take a picture of yourself from ten feet away without using the timer.

You've worn out your third pair of tennis shoes this week.

Your eyes stay open when you sneeze.

You chew on other people's fingernails.

The nurse needs a scientific calculator to take your pulse.

You're so jittery that people use your hands to blend their margaritas.

You can type sixty words per minute with your feet.

You can jump-start your car without cables.

You don't sweat, you percolate.

You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in.

You forget to unwrap candy bars before eating them.

You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers.

People get dizzy just watching you.

Instant coffee takes too long.

You channel surf faster without a remote.

You have a picture of your coffee mug on your coffee mug.

You can outlast the Energizer bunny.

You short out motion detectors.

You don't even wait for the water to boil anymore.

Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale.

You help your dog chase its tail.

You soak your dentures in coffee overnight.

Your first-aid kit contains two pints of coffee with an I.V. hookup.

You ski uphill.

You get a speeding ticket even when you're parked.

You answer the door before people knock.

You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.





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ANGEL IN UNIFORM This is a family story my father told me about his mother, my grandmother. In 1949, my father had just returned home from the war. On every American highway you could see the soldiers in uniform hitchhiking home to their families, as was the custom at that time in America. Sadly, the thrill of his reunion with his family was soon overshadowed. My grandmother became very ill and had to be holpitalized. It was her kidneys, and the doctors told my mather that she needed a blood transfusion mmediately or she would not live through the night. The problem was that Grandmother's blood type was AB-, a very rare type even today, but even harder to get because there were no blood banks or air flights to ship blood. All the family members were typed, but no one member was a match. So the doctors gave the family no hope; my grandmother was dying. My father left the hospital in tears to gather up all the family members, so that everyone would get a chance to tell Grandmother good-bye. As my father was driving down the highway, he passed a soldier in uniform hitchhiking home to his family. Deep in grief, my father had no inclination at that moment to do a good deed. Yet it was almost as if something outside himself pulled him to a stop, and he waited as the stranger climbed into the car. My father was too upset to even ask the soldier his name, but the soldier noticed my father's tears right away and inquired about them. Through his tears, my father told this stranger that his mother was lying in a hospital dying because the doctors had been unable to locate her blood type, AB-, and if they did not locate her blood type before nightfall, she would die. It got very quiet in the car. Then this unidentify soldier extended his hand out to my father, palm up. Resting in the palm of his hand were the dog tags from around his neck. The blood type on the tag was AB-. The soldier told my father to turn the car around and get him to the hospital. My grandmother lived until 1996, 47 years later, and to this day no one in the family knows this soldier's name. But my father has often wondered, was he a soldier or an angel in uniform?

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The Size Of Your Heart

It isn't the size of your house as such, That matters so much at all; It's the gentle hand and it's loving touch That make it great or small. The friends who come and the hour they go, Who out of the house depart; Will judge it not by the style you show, But, rather ... by the size of your heart



It isn't the size of your head so much, It isn't the wealth you found; What will make you happy is how you touch, The other lives that are all around. For making money is not hard. To live well is a art, How people love you and how they regard.. Is all in the size of your heart.

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Yesterday's Tears ~









Yesterday's tears build a river, Washing the soul of its pain, Cleansing the heart and mind Like a gentle sweet spring rain.







When you feel you have cried your river And your throat aches from tears shed And your mind is exhausted from feeling Or your heart feels as if it is dead...







Raise your eyes to the skies and recall How lovely a full moon can be. See the stars shining gently on all, And remember how good friends can be.







Call that friend who you know is there, Waiting to help you through pain, The one who does not judge, but listens, So that you may soon love again!

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Some Things About MEN!!!









Why do men wear pants? Because they look ridiculous in miniskirts!

What's the difference between men and alley cats? Men are taller.







Most men are convinced they have psychic powers - watch them when they have a game on TV, they believe that if they concentrate they can really help their team!

No man ever made love to a woman because the house was spotless!







How do you tell a man has been using your computer? If you go to a porn site, all the links are purple.

What's the difference between a man and a camel? A camel can work for a week without drinking, and a man can drink for a week without working!







Most men hate to shop. That's why the men's department is usually on the first floor of a department store, two inches from the door.

But men like to barbecue, because they are willing to cook if danger is involved!







A good place to meet a man is at the dry cleaner. Men who go there usually have jobs and bathe.

Men like phones with lots of buttons because it makes them feel important!







Why do men put women on pedestals? So they can look up their skirts!

Middle-aged men are like old buses... they grumble along, they smell funny, and they have spare tires.







One day a man comes home and finds his wife in bed with another man. "What are you doing?" he yells. "See," she says to her lover, "I told you he was dumb."

The problem with most men is their brains are like the prison system... not enough cells per man!

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