Drafting Guys over 60.

 Im over 60 and the Armed Forces say I'm too old   to track down terrorists. (You can't be older than 35 to join the military.) 
They've got the whole thing backwards. Instead of sending 18-year-olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35. 

For starters: 
Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. 

Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. 

Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. If we can't kill the enemy we'll complain them into submission. "My back hurts! I'm hungry! Where's the remote?" 

An 18-year-old hasn't had a legal beer yet and you shouldn't go to war until you're at least old enough to drink. The average old guy, on the other hand, has consumed 126,000 gallons of beer, and a jaunt through the desert heat with a beer and an M-60 would do wonders for the old beer belly. (Note there are 24 hours in a day and 24 bottles in a case...another convenient way to measure time!) 

An 18-year-old doesn't like to get up before 10 a.m. 
Old guys always get up early to pee. 
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. 

Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we like soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. 
We like them almost better than naps. 
They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear the Drill Sgt now, "Get down and give me ... er ... one." 

Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy. I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet. 
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to carry on a conversation, and to wear pants without the top of his butt crack showing and his shorts sticking out. He's hasn't figured out that a pierced tongue catches food particles, and that a 400-watt speaker in the back seat of a Honda can rupture an eardrum, and that a baseball cap has a brim to shade eyes, not the back of his head.

These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. 

Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten cowards who attacked us on September 11. The last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million old farts with attitudes. 

Share this with your senior friends.   It's purposely in big type so you can read it.

Good Ol' Frank Feldman

 JUST LIKE FRANK 
A man walks into the street and manages to get a taxi just going by.  He gets into the taxi, and the cabbie says, "Perfect timing. You're just like Frank "

Passenger: "Who?"

Cabbie: "Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time."  Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time"

Passenger: "There are always a few clouds over everybody."

Cabbie: "Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy."

Passenger: "Sounds like he was something really special."

Cabbie: "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He could remember everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right."

Passenger "Wow, some guy then."

Cabbie: "He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams, not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake."

Passenger: "Mmm, there's not many like him around."

Cabbie: "And he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good and never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too - he was the perfect man!  He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman "

Passenger: "An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?"

Cabbie: "Well, I never actually met Frank "

Passenger: "Then how do you know so much about him?"

Cabbie: "I married his f---ing widow."

Murphy's Lesser Laws

1. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

2. He who laughs last, thinks slowest.

3. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

4. Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't.

5. Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.

6. The 50-50-90 rule: Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there's a 90% probability you'll get it wrong.

7. If you lined up all the cars in the world end to end, someone would be stupid enough to try to pass them, five or six at a time.... on a hill....on a curve...in the fog.

8. If the shoe fits, get another one just like it.

9. The things that come to those who wait will be the things left by those who got there first.

10. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he will sit in a boat all day drinking beer.

11. A flashlight is a case for holding dead batteries. 
12. The shinbone is a device for finding furniture in a dark room.

13. A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.

14. When you go into court, you are putting yourself in the hands of 12 people who weren't smart enough to get out of jury duty. 

My Daddy the Dancer

My Daddy the Dancer

One day a fourth-grade teacher asked the children what their fathers did for 

a living.

All the typical answers came up -- fireman, mechanic, businessman, 

salesman, doctor, lawyer, and so forth.

However, little Justin was being uncharacteristically quiet, so when the 

teacher prodded him about his father, he replied,

"My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes 

in front of other men and they put money in his underwear. Sometimes, if the 

offer is really good, he will go home with some guy and stay with him all 

night for money."

The teacher, obviously shaken by this 

statement, hurriedly set the other 

children to work on some exercises and then took little Justin aside to ask 

him, "Is that really true about your father?"

"No," the boy said, "he works for the Democratic National Committee and is 

helping to get Hillary Clinton to be our next President, but I was too 

embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."