|Oct 19, 2011, 02:05 AM|
GOD & LAWN CARE
God said: "St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles."
It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week.
They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.
Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?
These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life.
You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
No!? What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?
After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch.. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.
And where do they get this mulch?
They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.
Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?
'Dumb and Dumber', Lord. It's a story about....
Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis
|Oct 19, 2011, 11:51 PM|
[B]Why we shoot Deer in the wild[/B]
This guy is a darwin award candidate:
Why we shoot deer in the wild (A letter from someone who wants to remain anonymous, who farms, writes well and actually tried this)
I had this idea that I could rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it up on corn for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat it. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck not 4 feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head (to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home.
I filled the cattle feeder then hid down at the end with my rope. The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it. After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up– 3 of them. I picked out a likely looking one, stepped out from the end of the feeder, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold..
The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step towards it, it took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope .., And then received an education. The first thing that I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.
That deer EXPLODED.
The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity. A deer—no Chance. That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined.. The only upside is that they do not have as much stamina as many other animals.A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.
At that point, I had lost my taste for corn-fed venison. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope.
I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painfully somewhere. At the time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. At that moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that the feeling was mutual. Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer’s momentum by bracing my head against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground. I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn’t want the deer to have to suffer a slow death, so I managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the feeder – a little trap I had set before hand…kind of like a squeeze chute. I got it back in there and I started moving up so I could get my rope back.
Did you know that deer bite?
They do! I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when ….. I reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bit by a horse where they just bite you and slide off to then let go. A deer bites you and shakes its head—almost like a pit bull. They bite HARD and it hurts.
The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and shaking instead. My method was ineffective.It seems like the deer was biting and shaking for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds. I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now), tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the tendons out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose.
That was when I got my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.
Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up on their back feet and strike right about head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp… I learned a long time ago that, when an animal -like a horse—strikes at you with their hooves and you can’t get away easily, the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal. This will usually cause them to back down a bit so you can escape.
This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and tried to turn and run. The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer may not be so different from horses after all, besides being twice as strong and 3 times as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.
Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.
I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away. So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring a rifle with a scope……to sort of even the odds!!
All these events are true so help me God…
An Educated Farmer
|Oct 20, 2011, 12:01 AM|
United States, SD
Joined Aug 2010
Do you fart in bed?
Do you fart in bed?
THIS IS VERY FUNNY. READ TO THE END
IF THIS STORY DOESN'T MAKE YOU CRY FOR LAUGHING SO HARD, LET ME KNOW AND I'LL PRAY FOR YOU.
THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A COUPLE WHO HAD BEEN HAPPILY MARRIED FOR YEARS. THE ONLY FRICTION IN THEIR MARRIAGE WAS THE HUSBAND'S HABIT OF FARTING LOUDLY EVERY MORNING WHEN HE AWOKE. THE NOISE WOULD WAKE HIS WIFE AND THE SMELL WOULD MAKE HER EYES WATER AND MAKE HER GASP FOR AIR.
EVERY MORNING...SHE WOULD PLEAD WITH HIM TO STOP RIPPING THEM OFF BECAUSE IT WAS MAKING HER SICK. HE TOLD HER HE COULDN'T STOP IT AND THAT IT WAS PERFECTLY NATURAL.
SHE TOLD HIM TO SEE A DOCTOR, SHE WAS CONCERNED THAT ONE DAY HE WOULD BLOW HIS GUTS OUT.
THE YEARS WENT BY AND HE CONTINUED TO RIP THEM OUT. THEN ONE CHRISTMAS DAY MORNING, AS SHE WAS PREPARING THE TURKEY FOR DINNER AND HE WAS UPSTAIRS SOUND ASLEEP, SHE LOOKED AT THE INNARDS, NECK, GIZZARD, LIVER AND ALL THE SPARE PARTS, AND A MALICIOUS THOUGHT CAME TO HER.
SHE TOOK THE BOWL AND WENT UPSTAIRS WHERE HER HUSBAND WAS SOUND ASLEEP AND, GENTLY PULLING THE BED COVERS BACK, SHE PULLED BACK THE ELASTIC WAISTBAND OF HIS UNDERPANTS AND EMPTIED THE BOWL OF TURKEY GUTS INTO HIS SHORTS.. SOME TIME LATER SHE HEARD HER HUSBAND WAKEN WITH HIS USUAL TRUMPETING WHICH WAS FOLLOWED BY A BLOOD CURDLING SCREAM AND THE SOUND OF FRANTIC FOOT STEPS AS HE RAN INTO THE BATH ROOM.
THE WIFE COULD HARDLY CONTROL HERSELF AS SHE ROLLED ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING, TEARS IN HER EYES! AFTER YEARS OF TORTURE SHE RECKONED SHE HAD GOT HIM BACK PRETTY GOOD. ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES LATER, HER HUSBAND CAME DOWNSTAIRS IN HIS BLOODSTAINED UNDERPANTS WITH A LOOK OF HORROR ON HIS FACE. SHE BIT HER LIP AS SHE ASKED HIM WHAT WAS THE MATTER.
HE SAID, 'HONEY YOU WERE RIGHT.' 'ALL THESE YEARS YOU HAVE WARNED ME AND I DIDN'T LISTEN TO YOU'. 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN?' ASKED HIS WIFE. 'WELL, YOU ALWAYS TOLD ME THAT ONE DAY I WOULD END UP FARTING MY GUTS OUT, AND TODAY IT FINALLY HAPPENED.
BUT BY THE GRACE OF GOD, SOME VASELINE AND TWO FINGERS. I THINK I GOT MOST OF THEM BACK IN
|Oct 21, 2011, 08:35 PM|
Scientists at NASA built a gun specifically to launch standard 4 pound
dead chickens at the windshields of airliners, military jets and the
space shuttle, all traveling at maximum velocity. The idea is to
simulate the frequent incidents of collisions with airborne fowl to
test the strength of the windshields.
British engineers heard about the gun and were eager to test it on the
windshields of their new high speed trains. Arrangements were made,
and a gun was sent to the British engineers. When the gun was fired,
the engineers stood shocked as the chicken hurled out of the barrel,
crashed into the shatterproof shield, smashed it to smithereens,
blasted through the control console, snapped the engineer's back-rest
in two, and embedded itself in the back wall of the cabin, like an
arrow shot from a bow.
The horrified Brits sent NASA the disastrous results of the
experiment, along with the designs of the windshield and begged the
U.S. scientists for suggestions.
NASA responded with a one-line memo, "Defrost the chicken."
|Oct 21, 2011, 09:09 PM|
|Oct 22, 2011, 09:12 AM|
Back in the days of the Wild West, a young gun travelling through Dodge City meets an ageing ex-gunslinger at the Last Chance Saloon. In lieu of a small gambling debt, the old fella offers to give him some tips. Well, hell, why not? ''The first step,'' the old 'un explains, ''is to hang your gun holster jest a li'l lower down your leg, so's you can get the gun from yer holster dat bit quicker.''
The young buck draws the gun and, by-way-of-showing-what-he-can-do - BANG! - shoots the bow tie from the gentleman sitting in the corner playing the piano. ''Anything else I should know, old-timer?'' the young man asks, with a touch of bravura. The old man replies: ''Yup, also cut a small bit from the top of the holster to get yer gun out jest that itty-bit quicker still.''
The young learner draws and this time, BANG!, shoots the hat off the gentleman sitting in the corner playing the piano. ''Anything else, old fella?''
The old man says: ''Yup there is one final thing you should do. If I was you, I'd take yer gun out of the holster, take it over there and dip it in that tin of grease.'' ''Will that make me draw even faster again?'' the young man sneers. ''Nope. But it might be a bit easier on yer, son, for what's gonna happen when Wyatt Earp gets up from playing that piano.''
|Oct 22, 2011, 09:14 AM|
|Oct 22, 2011, 10:50 AM|
So when the chicken hits the windshield above a certain speed, it may as well be solid because the merge speed is faster than the elasticity of the bird will allow displacement. That same principle applies to supersonic speed, thunder and explosions.
And if you look, you will find that principle adding to how an aircraft stays up in the air and how it is propelled. There are presure zones formed in the process.
|Oct 22, 2011, 10:52 AM|
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