Chekt!
TYB!
o7
BREAKING!!! COFFEE BREAK IS OVER!!! BACK ON YOUR HEADS!!!
A man goes to hell and the devil greets him. He takes him to a hallway which has three different doors and tell the man he'll have to choose one room to spend the rest of eternity in.
So he takes him to the first door and he opens it and sees everyone standing on their heads on wooden floors. The man thought that would be pretty terrible to spend the rest of eternity on his head on such a hard floor and asked the devil to show him the second door.
Everyone in the second room was standing on their heads on concrete. The man thought that was even worse to spend the rest of eternity on his head on an even harder floor.
Finally the devil takes him to the third door and in that room everyone is up to their knees in dog shit and drinking coffee. The man thought that was pretty bad, but at least they could drink coffee so he told the devil he chose the third room to spend the rest of eternity in. So the man, up to his knees in dog shit, drank coffee for a few minutes. Then the devil came back into the room and said "Coffee break is over. Back on your heads."
Heard this Joke from my best friend when we were kids at a sleepover… He back a high ranking officer in Special Forces…
I chose a similar path….
o7
We'll Be There in About Fifteen Minutes…
I was sheriff of this county when I was twenty-five. Hard to believe. Grandfather was a lawman. Father too. Me and him was sheriff at the same time, him in Plano and me here. I think he was pretty proud of that. I know I was. Some of the old-time sheriffs never even wore a gun. A lot of folks find that hard to believe. Jim Scarborough never carried one. That the younger Jim. Gaston Boykins wouldn’t wear one. Up in Commanche County. I always liked to hear about the old- timers. Never missed a chance to do so. Nigger Hoskins over in Batrop County knowed everybody’s phone number off by heart. You can’t help but compare yourself against the old timers. Can’t help but wonder how they would’ve operated these times. There was this boy I sent to Huntsville here a while back. My arrest and my testimony. He killed a fourteen-year-old girl. Papers said it was a crime of passion but he told me there wasn’t any passion to it. Told me that he’d been planning to kill somebody for about as long as he could remember. Said that if they turned him out he’d do it again. Said he knew he was going to hell. Be there in about fifteen minutes. I don’t know what to make of that. I surely don’t. The crime you see now, it’s hard to even take its measure. It’s not that I’m afraid of it. I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job – not to be glorious. But I don’t want to push my chips forward and go out and meet something I don’t understand. You can say it’s my job to fight it but I don’t know what it is anymore. More than that, I don’t want to know. A man would have to put his soul at hazard. He would have to say, okay, I’ll be part of this world.
PANIC & FEAR IS ALL THEY KNOW…
Also, I find it real cute that my Brave Browser doesn't return results for qalerts… Unless I search "qalerts"…
Alex Jones' Push-UP Bra