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Four friends spend weeks planning the perfect girls getaway trip -
shopping, massages, facials.

Two days before the group is to leave Mary’s husband puts his foot down
and tells her she isn’t going.

Mary’s friends are very upset that she can’t go, but what can they do.

Two days later the three get to the hotel only to find Mary sitting in
the bar drinking a glass of wine.

“Wow, how long you been here and how did you talk your husband into
letting you go?”

“Well, I’ve been here since last night……….. Yesterday evening I
was sitting on the couch and my husband came up behind me and put his
hands over my eyes and said ‘Guess who’?”

I pulled his hands off to find all he was wearing was his birthday suit.
He took my hand and lead me to our bedroom. The room was scented with
perfume, had two dozen candles and rose pedals all over…………On
the bed, he had handcuffs and ropes! He told me to tie and cuff him to
the bed, so I did. And then he said, “Now, you can do whatever you
want.”

So here I am.

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photo credit

Two little boys, ages 8 and 10, were
excessively mischievous. They were always getting into trouble and their parents knew all about it.

If any mischief occurred in their town,
the two boys were probably involved.

The boys’ mother heard that a preacher
in town had been successful in disciplining children,
so she asked if he would speak with her boys.

The preacher agreed, but he asked to see
them individually. So the mother sent the 8 year old first,
in the morning, with the older boy to see
the preacher in the afternoon.

The preacher, a huge man with a booming
voice, sat the younger boy down and asked him sternly,
‘Do you know where God is, son?’

The boy’s mouth dropped open , but he
made no response, sitting there wide-eyed
with his mouth hanging open.

So the preacher repeated
the question in an even sterner tone,
‘Where is God?’

Again, the boy made no attempt to answer.
The preacher raised his voice even more and shook
his finger in the boy’s face and bellowed, ‘Where is God?’

The boy screamed and bolted from the
room, ran directly home and dove into his closet,
slamming the door behind him.

When his older brother found him in the
closet, he asked, ‘What happened?’

The younger brother, gasping for breath,
replied,’We are in BIG trouble this time,’

‘GOD is missing, and they think we did it!’

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Which way is the bus below traveling? (If it was going forward) To the left or to the right?

Can’t make up your mind?

Look carefully at the picture again.

Still don’t know?

Pre-schoolers all over the United States were shown this picture asked the same question. 90% of the pre-schooler’s gave this answer:  The bus is traveling to the left.

When asked, “Why do you think the bus is traveling to the left?”   They answered:  Because you can’t see the door to get on the bus.”

How do you feel now???

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Day 983 of my captivity…

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at her feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into her heart, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, she merely made condescending comments about what a ‘good little hunter’ I am.
Bitch.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of ‘allergies.’ I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around her feet as she was walking. I must try this again tomorrow — but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the dog who visits here is a snitch. That dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released – and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously demented.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now…………….

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