Red Burtts Place

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Location: Maine, United States

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Monday, January 31, 2005

How May I Help You


If you should ever have the misfortune to visit the Wal Mart in North Conway NH those will be the last words you will hear ringing in your ears, screamed at you by a “Blue Vested Women” as you leave the store. If you are smart you will look straight ahead and ignore her remarks about “the weather”. Under no circumstances talk or even look at this horrible women that told you to “have a good one”.

The awful old bitch that bellowed this out as you were about to walk out the door has been stationed at the exit to supposedly give you the feeling that Wal Mart is saying goodbye to you and thanking you for shopping in their stinking store. The real reason she is there is to try and see if you have stolen anything, (she would like nothing better than to find something wrong with your purchase) then she could show her “Weasel Boss” what a great job she was doing, why she may even be named “Associate Of The Month”, she really believes she is an “FBI AGENT”. If you are crazy enough to stop and talk to this women she will constantly be “SCANNING” your order with her little sneaky beady eyes while she tells you about the rain that is headed our way, then she will cough on you.

This “Wal Mart Brown Nosing Stool Pigeon” is a short dumpy women in her late Sixties or early Seventies, she wears slacks that have been tailored at home, the pants have been cut short to fit her dwarf like legs, she wears the “Blue Vest” and on the back of the vest printed in large white letters are the words “HOW MAY I HELP YOU”. She likes to show off by jumping around and grabbing shopping carts and putting them away, when she does this she makes sure that she looks all around to see who is watching her then she smiles and screams “DID YOU FIND EVERYTHING OK, HA, HA, HA, COUGH, WHEEZE, DRIP”she then gives them a look that says “Wal Mart Needs Me”.

This women screams when she talks and she has a raspy voice, the kind that some smokers or whiskey drinkers develop, she also coughs a lot. I would personally like to walk up behind her and smash the back of her neck in with my cane.

On a recent trip to this wretched store, (I only go into a Wal Mart when it is absolutely necessary) I had to sit on a bench in front of the Exit waiting for my wife who couldn’t bring herself to leave until she had touched every item in the building. While shopping with my wife I have actually seen her read the label on a “Tire Pump”, if I should ask her, “do you need a Tire Pump” she will just look at me with a “glazed look” in her eyes, then she moves on. So on this day I decided to sit and wait.

I like to sit around and do nothing, so today I decided to sit around and do nothing on a bench that is located right in front of the Exit at the Conway Wal Mart, I also decided to watch this women perform her duty’s as a professional “Pain In The Ass” while I sat around and did nothing.
When I am away from home I like to watch people as I sit around doing nothing. Before my wife walked away she asked, “what are you going to do while you are sitting around doing nothing” I replied, “nothing”, she looked at me for a moment, then vanished.

The first time I heard “the animal scream” I came close to falling right off the bench, I had glanced away for a moment to look at a thirty five year old women’s legs when it happened, first it started with a slight growling noise, then came a raspy cough, then the bomb, “HEY, YOU HAVE A GOOD ONE, HA, HA, HA, HAW, HAW, GULP, WHEEZE, SNORT, COUGH, GAG”. Jesus Jumping H Christ Almighty, everybody in the store turns and looks at her, she bellows this out at every human being that is leaving the store. She scares the shit out of some of them.

Don’t feel sorry for some of these “OLD” people that work for Wal Mart, some of them are retired Dentists, Doctors, Airline Pilots, and Bus Drivers. They all have the same story when you ask them why they work there, “oh I have to keep busy” “oh I’ll never stop working” “oh what would I do” “oh I’m 96 years old, people tell me I only look 70” “oh I’ll never retire” the most often heard is, “oh, if I stop working I’ll die”. Ass Holes.

Retire means Retire, no more work, you have worked all your life, you have spent forty some odd years getting out of bed and “working”, waiting for the “week end” waiting for the “vacation”, now you have the “BIG VACATION” you can lay in bed, you can watch TV at ten in the morning, you can go fishing, you can sit out in your yard and drink beer, you can think about the guys you used to work with, they are working, you don’t have to, you can sit on your porch and pat your puppy.

No, don’t pity some of these Idiots that work in Wal Mart with their little blue vests on that say, “How May I Help You”, they can probably buy and sell you. My way of looking at these fools that have to rush right out and get another job the day they retire is, “They Are Taking That Job Away From Somebody That Really Needs It”

If I HAD to work in Wal Mart and I was working beside a “Retired Dentist” I would punch his teeth out.

For Gods sake, when you retire, “Retire”.

Back To The Foghorn:
Well I sat for 35 minutes listening to that women scream, cough, hack, wheeze and spit. Finally my dear wife was here, now I had a good Idea, my wife knew nothing of this Screaming Banshee, I positioned myself so that my wife would have to walk right by this women, as we got closer, I edged closer to my wife forcing her to get within about two feet of the “Bellowing Bitch”, I made sure she saw us, I looked the other way, then she zeroed in on my poor wife, she waited until my wife was right beside her and then she let loose, “COUGH, HEY, YOU HAVE A GOOD ONE, COUGH HA, HA, HA, HO, HO, HO, DID YOU FIND EVERYTHING, COUGH, GURGLE, SNOTS, SPLUTTER AARRGGGHHH”

My wife jumped fifteen feet in the air, she turned white, outside she said to me, “did you hear that women” I replied, “what women”.

A short while later on the drive home we were both silent for about twenty minutes, I then turned to my wife and said, “How May I Help You”, she looked out the window and muttered, “stupid idiot”.
Author: Red Burtt.

The Bleached Freak Monster

For seven months we had to endure story's and pictures of the wife murderer "Diarrhea Face" Scott Peterson and his "Hatchet Face" girl friend Amber Frye.

Now, today, they have started, for the next six months we will have to put up with the "Pedophile, Child Molesting, Wierdo, Whacko, Bleached Freak" Michale Jackson.

"Diarrhea Face" Peterson had his sick little "groupie girls" they used to send him love letters when he was in jail. He is now on death row, they are probably still writing and telling him how "Hot" he is. To bad he couldn't take one of them fishing.

Now the Michale Jackson "Groupie Sicko's" are gearing up with their "we love you Michale" signs in front of the court house. Jackson gets love letters from Macaulay Culkin.

Big days ahead for the "Female Smut Reporters" on cable news.

WWIII is going on, but this "Sick Freak" Jackson will dominate America's News for the next year.
Author: Red Burtt

Thursday, January 27, 2005


My face is shrinking.
I still have four teeth, they are shrinking.
The fore finger on my left hand is "Bent".
I called one of my grandchildren "Jasper" yesterday.
"Jasper" was my dead dogs name.
Author: Red Burtt

Married Too Long (58 yrs)

If I should tell my wife that I don’t feel well, she starts singing.

These are the words to the song she sings, “La dee da da dee da dee” she sings this in several different “keys” depending on the situation, if I keep talking she sings louder and louder.

If I were to drop dead on the kitchen floor at 8:23 PM, my wife would walk around my body all evening. She would watch the Jay Leno show and then go to bed.

The next morning she would have her Oatmeal and Yogurt, then she would call my daughter who lives next door and say, “I think your fathers dead”.
Author: Red Burtt.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Crossing Over

When the time comes for an elderly person to close their eyes and travel into the next world, in all likelihood if they have reached the age of 80 or beyond, they will have a very small funeral, there will be no lines waiting to view the remains, there will be no Police Escort to the final resting place.
There will be, maybe two or three floral arrangements at the casket, the body may lie in state for several hours without a visitor to kneel and privately “check out” the suit that the deceased is wearing.

Growing up in the city of Cambridge in a working class neighborhood during the thirties and forties I have been to many “Wakes”, it has been said that at times some of the friends of an “Expired Elderly Male Person” who have come to “view the remains” will, if no one else is present at the time, try to “peek” down into the casket to see if the body has any pants on. It was always believed back then that the Undertakers used to steal the pants, to sell or for one of their relatives to wear.

On your next visit to a funeral parlor to view the remains of a dearly departed male friend, do the following, as your kneeling, slowly turn your head to see if anyone else is watching you, then bend your head in towards the deceased folded hands and look down to your right, try to see if the body is “wearing pants”, if not, report your findings to one of the deceased’s relatives. Remember this on your next visit to a funeral parlor, think of my words while you are kneeling, (don’t laugh).

The trip to the cemetery for the burial of an elderly person usually consists of The Hearse and One Family Limo. As the cars pass through the streets some folks will notice the Hearse and the Limo and remark “Jesus, what a small funeral”.

At the burial site, there will be a minister or a priest and maybe five people, it will be very quiet, a prayer will be said, and sometimes it rains.

Hiding behind a large monument about 100 feet away are two men with shovels, they are waiting, they are talking and giggling about two of the female mourners that are wearing “Mini Skirts” at the gravesite. These two men will fill the grave with dirt after the bereaved leave.

One of the “shovelers” says, "Jesus, that poor guy didn’t have very many friends; there are only five people there", the other shoveler says, “yea, maybe he had B-O” then they both go into hysterics.

“Another Rumor”, many years ago I attended the funeral of a dearly departed friend, another friend from my crowd drove the car I was riding in, he was a strange person, very suspicious of everything. As we were leaving after the services had ended, he slowed his car and circled up behind the gravesite of our “dead friend”, he told me to look for a pickup truck or a van that might be parked close by, he then parked the car and we waited.
After about fifteen minutes or so the two “shovelers” emerged and began throwing dirt into the grave. I then said to my friend, what the hell are we doing sitting here, he replied, “sometimes the grave diggers dump the Body in the hole than throw the two thousand dollar casket into a van, they can steal a coffin in five minutes” he said, “they can then sell it to a funeral parlor for a thousand and the funeral parlor will resell it for two thousand” I always considered this friend of mine a bit unstable, but he had me thinking about this one. I haven’t had the opportunity to attend another funeral with him though and I never will, “He Died” shortly thereafter, I am happy to say, he is buried in his casket. Myself plus two more of our friends waited for over forty-five minutes to make sure he was properly put to rest in the Coffin that his family had purchased. (He would have wanted it that way).

I have instructed my wife to get behind a tree and watch my burial site for about a half hour after they lower me down. I also told her to check the perimeter for any suspicious Vans or Pick Up Trucks.

The biggest reason an elderly person doesn’t have a large funeral is that the old bastard outlived everyone and anyone he ever knew.

Part Two:
When I visit a cemetery I will usually talk to some of the Gravestones, when I attend a wake I will always try to say a few hushed words to the deceased. The best time to do this is at the “2 to 4” viewing, in the afternoon, it is less crowded.

Have you ever talked to a Cadaver as you pay your last respects, many people do, it is also said that some funeral homes have a little hidden microphone and they record visitors remarks to the deceased, they then take them home and play them at their next “Morticians Cookout”.

Here are a few remarks recorded at the wake of a Fifty Two Year old married man who choked to death while jogging.

“Oh dear God, say it isn’t so”

“What the hell did you do with your keys”?

“Oh Mary Mother Of Jesus, you look just like your sleeping”

“They should have closed your coffin, you look like shit”

“Why didn’t the bastards put your glasses on you”

“That’s not how you combed your hair”

“Oh God, we’re all going to miss you so much”

“Nobody will miss you, you rotten son of a bitch”

“I’m so sorry darling, forgive me, I thought you were having an affair”

“I hope your wife doesn’t find out you were sleeping with me”

“We found your Blow Up Rubber Women and your Penis Pump”

“So long idiot”

“Thanks, you dirty son of a bitch”

“I’m moving in with your wife next month, we’re going to Yellowstone in the new Motor Home you just bought, I hope your shirts will fit me”

“Go to hell”

“Mom told me you weren’t my real father, did you know that”?

“Shove your money up your ass”

“You hit the lottery this morning, the guy that’s been running around with your wife found the ticket under your bed when he was putting his shoes on”

“You Bastard”

The Greatest Mystery In Life Is Death.
Author: Red Burtt

Friday, January 21, 2005

A Question

Are there any "Bedbugs" left in the world, I never see or hear them mentioned.


Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Supermarket II

People That Bother Me:
One year and five months from now I will be 80 years old, I was born in 1926, I am old.

Most old people are a pain in the ass, they hobble around, many wear diapers, they have no teeth, their toenails turn chalky, they have veins sticking out everywhere, they watch Lawrence Welk, they smile at everybody, even strangers, they have Cats, the ones in Florida are all drunks. When the old people can’t hear what your saying they just look at you and grin, when they drive their little cars all you can see of them is the top of their head and after “one” cocktail they like to get together and sing “Down By The Old Mill Stream”. They love Polyester Pants. Tuesday Is Senior Citizens Day. If it’s Tuesday, be careful in the parking lot, one of their favorite pastimes is driving their cars through store windows.

I’m obsessed with Supermarkets, I see strange things there, I see strange people there, you too can see strange things there, if you look for them, watch people, you will be amazed at all the imbeciles and morons you see in the Supermarket.

Now, I will get to the point, “shopping with these old bastards”. Have you ever noticed how most people look out at the ocean when they are standing on the boardwalk and there is a railing? They usually fold their arms and rest them on the top of the railing as they gaze out to sea.

Well now, the next time you food shop watch some of these “old folks”, after selecting their shopping cart, putting their cane in the cart, then turning and smiling at anybody that happens to glance at them, they fold their skinny wrinkled blotched arms, they lean forward and place their folded skinny wrinkled blotched arms on the handle, they don’t push the cart with their hands, they push the cart with their folded skinny wrinkled blotched arms, they have to bend over to do this, so now they are all bent over pushing the cart with their folded skinny wrinkled blotched arms, they are still smiling.
Doing this, it then takes them about twenty minutes to walk ten feet. (They shuffle and crawl)

As I said earlier, I am 78½ years old, when I shop, I get my cart, I put my cane in the cart, I don’t smile at anybody, I don’t know these damn people and I have no intention of smiling at them, I don’t even look at them, I hate them.

I push the cart with my hands. I don’t push the cart with my folded skinny wrinkled “freckled” arms. (I have Red hair, I don’t have blotches, I have freckles)

Old people aren’t my only problem in the supermarket:
Have you ever seen pictures on the Discovery Channel of a Shark swimming along and there are two or three little fishes hanging right at their sides and they go everywhere with the Shark. Well when I shop it always seems that the minute I enter the store I “pick up” one or two people just like this, they usually come in “packs” “family members” sometimes they have a couple of “snot nosed” squalling brats with them, these people seem to be everywhere I want to go, I will try to get rid of them, I will go in the opposite direction from them, if they go down one aisle I will go down another, for a few minutes I feel safe, I forget them, then, BANG, here they are right beside me, sometimes touching my body or my cart. It often seems to me that God has assigned these people to make my life miserable while I am in this store.

I have just entered the store, “oh boy” (the shark people haven’t found me yet) my wife knows they will pop up somewhere because she is just looking at me and grinning, she loves to watch them aggravate me.

What I am dealing with now though is the old hag in front of me pushing her cart with her arms, she is barely moving, one slow crawling step at a time, her old head is going from side to side, she is smiling at everybody she can see, then she stops, “Ah Ha, Jesus Christ”, right in the middle of the aisle, she is now trying to read the small print on a box of cereal from eight feet away, she stays in the middle of the aisle, she is hypnotized by a box of Corn Flakes, she wont push her cart to the side so people can get by, she just remains motionless, blocking the whole aisle. Her folded arms are still on the cart and she is bent over so far that her old head is almost in the basket.
If I were to scream at her “Hey Get Out Of The Way You Old Bastard” she would just look at me and smile. So, I wait.

Now vivid visions (in color) go through my head as I look at her backside, I can just picture myself ramming my cart into her decrepit old frame, I can see her falling to the floor, I picture her false teeth flying down the aisle, I can see her dark brown flannel underwear and her rolled up woolen stockings as she is thrashing around on the floor, I can hear her screaming, I start smiling, my wife comes up and throws something in the cart and she says, “what are you laughing at” I reply, “nothing”.

Finally, after what seems like a month, the old bitch decides she doesn’t want any cereal, I say to myself, “what the hell was she reading on the cereal”, I never should have come down this aisle.

Now my wife has vanished, she can be right beside me, then I will look at something for two seconds, I will turn to speak to her and she’s gone, vanished into thin air, without a sound.

Well at least I am rid of the old women; I will keep an eye open for her though.

I think I’ll buy some bacon, I am now looking at bacon, reading the expiration date, then, holy Jesus, I can feel it, my eyes start to twitch, they have found me, they are standing right next to me “the shark people” and they want “my bacon”, these are the rotten wretched people that will torment me until I leave the store, no matter what I do to avoid them, “they will be there”, oh dear Jesus H Christ.

Is it just me, do any of you reading this have a problem with someone in a store that you just can’t seem to get rid of, no matter what you do the terrible things are right there with you. Keep this in mind on your next shopping trip; maybe you just haven’t noticed them. Or, maybe I have a mental problem.

I throw my bacon back, I will circle around to get behind them, and if I can keep them in front of me I will be safer. The people I run into like this at the store seem to be able to sense what I want to buy, then they will go directly to where I am headed and then they just stand there, sometimes they will pick an item up and they both will examine it, read it and then talk it over between themselves, they will discuss buying a jar of peanut butter as though they were buying a new car. I can’t get at the peanut butter so I leave, then they leave, I go around and come back up the aisle and there they are, they came back also, for a second look at the one damn jar of peanut butter. God doesn’t want me to have that peanut butter.

Today it is a man and a women, they are funny looking people, they look at each other as though they hate each others guts, they have a 6 yr old monster with them, he runs and he grabs everything he can reach, and throws it on the floor, the female adult is constantly screaming at him, this “little fella” has a large forehead, his eyes are about a foot apart, he has a crew cut, he has two large openings in the middle of his face which I assume are his nostrils, his ears protrude outward giving the appearance of “ping pong paddles”, his feet appear to be about a size 13 ½, his arms hang below his knees, he is only about two feet tall, he looks like a “white monkey” with “no fur”, if he had a “bolt in his neck” he would resemble something that Dr Frankenstein would invent. Children like this one can be very dangerous to an Aged Gentleman such as myself, especially if the little bastard comes in bodily contact with me.

I now push my cart in a wide circle and come in about fifty feet behind these animals, both parents and the “thing” they have with them, I assume it is their son, (when “it” was born the Doctor slapped the mother), they are both now handling my Bacon, I watch as they throw my Bacon in their cart and then they turn and go down the canned fish aisle, the two adults seem to be fighting, good, I will go in the opposite direction, now I have to be on the lookout for two enemies, the old bitch and the “monster family”.

For a few moments I feel safe, I buy some bacon, then assuming that the “family from hell” are all through in the canned fish aisle I head into it to buy some “Spam”, I am half way down the aisle when I hear this ungodly “growling scream” up at the other end of the aisle where I am headed, that “kid thing” with the 13 ½ size feet comes screaming and racing around the corner, he is dragging a “lawn chair” with him that he took from the “summer fun display”, he is drooling and he has wet his pants, his crazy mother comes galloping about ten feet behind him.

I am unsteady on my feet, I say a prayer to Jesus The Christ, then I grab my cart, my knuckles are white, these bastards are headed right at me, the kid gets by me, then he trips, the lawn chair goes flying up against the meat counter, the mother grabs the kids neck, she must be squeezing his neck real hard because the kids veins look like “blue garden hoses”, they are sticking out all over his neck, he is squawking and gagging his eyes are bulging out, then she starts shaking him, he looks like he is going to pass out, his tongue is now hanging out and flapping from side to side. There was a meat man stocking the shelves, he dropped his meat tray and ran back into the meat room, he probably thought this women was going to attack him after she killed the kid.

The mother finally lets up, the kid is gasping, she screams, “you little son of a bitch, go pick that chair up and put it back or I’ll smash your face in with it”, the guys in the meat room are all peeking out the door at this display of “Motherly Discipline”. (Every supermarket has them, watch for them; sooner or later you will meet them).

My wife has just appeared out of somewhere, she is right beside me, she has the ability to appear and disappear without a sound when she is food shopping, she is oblivious to the world around her when she is reading labels, she says, “what’s going on over here, what was all that noise”, now my “real bad” leg is trembling, I reply, “nothing”, there is no sense in telling her about it, she will blame me.

I reach up and put a can of Spam in the cart then turn to say something to my wife, “she isn’t there”.

I have two more encounters with the “Savage Family” but nothing serious, these types of people that bother me in the stores all have the same habit, they will “double back” on me, they will go down an aisle and disappear, then just when I think I am safe, they come back and head right for me, Jesus it’s terrible.

Well, the “Vanishing Women”, my wife, is with me now, and it is time to look for a checkout line, when I have enemies in the store I have to be very careful when I check out, so I now look all around for the old women, no sign of her, good, I can’t see them but I can hear the drooling monster kid screaming over in the dairy department so I feel fairly safe.

I select a line and jump in, my wife vanishes again, I start to relax, I am now reading a headline on one of the Tabloids, it says, “Jesus Discovered Living In Cleveland Ohio” under it there is another that reads, “Boy Sees Through His Ears”, I smile, then I say to myself, “I bet that’s the kid that just had his neck wrung in the meat department”

My groceries are now on the belt, suddenly I feel it, a very slight pressure on my back, I turn, oh God, she is here, the old hag, right behind me, her arms still folded on the cart and she is staring right at me and grinning, she looks at my Spam and says “oh I love Spam” her false teeth float up and down when she talks, I would like to say, “who gives a shit” but I just nod and look away. I am almost free now; she has pushed her cart into my back about ten times. I pay my bill and am out in the main aisle.

Now, where the hell is my wife, buying lottery tickets, I move ahead and get up against the wall where I will be safe, the old women has just emerged from the checkout, she is crawling towards the exit, then she stops, she is actually standing still “smiling at the coke machine”.

My wife appears out of nowhere; out we go I made it without getting knocked down, thank you God.

As we are driving out I spot her, the old women is standing in front of the store looking in the window and smiling at herself. I close my eyes for a second and thank God that I won’t be anywhere near her when she’s backing her car up.

We shop in No Conway NH, that night while watching the news a story came on about an accident that occurred in the parking lot of the Conway Supermarket that we shop in, it involved a family of three, a man a women and a young boy about 6 yrs of age, witnesses said it seemed as though the women in the car was “strangling and shaking” a strange looking young boy, witnesses then said “the boy broke free and jumped out of the moving car”, his father ran over his head.

When you shop, watch for them, they are in every supermarket in America, you will see them, or, maybe they will find you.
Author: Red Burtt

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

The War Hero Speaks

John "Fonda War Hero" Kerry has emerged from his "Sore Loser Den", he spoke at Boston's annual Martin Luther King Day Breakfast. He reiterated that he decided not to challenge the election results, but he says ``thousands of people were suppressed in the effort to vote.''

Haw, haw, haw, this arrogant, filthy rich, crybaby lost the election by "THREE AND A HALF MILLION VOTES" and he says he "decided not to challenge it"

He also says that "thousands of people were suppressed in the effort to vote", in reality, what this means is "HE LOST".

For eight years Ex Democrats like myself had to put up with "Billy Blue Dress", we didn't like it, but this is America, Clinton won, twice. We had to watch one scandal after another, our President was accused of Rape, he sat and lied to the whole country in front of the TV cameras, he lied to his wife and daughter, he lied to the Grand Jury, then when cornered he admitted he lied. He turned the Oval Office where great Presidents have sat into his "Personal Whore House" we had to watch "Clintons War" in Kosovo where he Bombed hospitals and the Chinese Embassy, we watched our soldiers body's being dragged through the streets of Somalia by the "Savages".

We, "the right wingers, the ex democrats" those that didn't vote for Clinton LOST, we knew we lost, we accepted it, the people spoke, we waited, there would be other elections.

Why in the name of God can't these Hollywood Wife Swappers and Sore Losing Democrats accept the fact that "They Lost", why the "bitterness and hate"?

I now give Credit to the man I just trashed above, "William Jefferson Clinton", last week it was reported by AP News that one of the "Biased CBS" reporters tried to sneakily get Clinton to comment negatively on the "Bush Win", Clinton said, "GW BUSH WON THE ELECTION FAIR AND SQUARE", as you can expect, the Liberal Elite News immediately threw that in the "shit can", Fox News and Drudge were the only ones to report it.

So, Sen Flip Flop Kerry, take your Surfboard and go down to the Bahamas and enjoy your wifes money, get over it, "Read My Lips"--"YOU LOST"
Author: Red Burtt

Monday, January 10, 2005


I sit around a lot and do nothing, when I was a working man, people would ask me what I was going to do when I retired, I would reply, "I plan on sitting around a lot and do nothing"

Today I was sitting around doing nothing, while doing this, I happened to be eating a chicken leg.

Sometimes "I think" when I am sitting around doing nothing, today I was thinking, I was thinking about chickens. Several million chickens are killed each day in America, some have their heads cut off, some have their throats slit, some have their necks wrung, some have their heads bashed in, some suffocate in a chicken coop, some are eaten alive by foxes and there are a few that get run over by busses.

Most of them are killed because we "the humans" want to fry them, boil them, bake them and eat them. (Millions and millions of them).

Now, suppose when we die and go to heaven, we discover that GOD IS A CHICKEN.

In America, there has been one man that has been solely responsible for the death of probably over Five Hundred Trillion Chickens, that man, "Col. Sanders".

Col. Sanders passed away a few years back, I wonder if he went to heaven?
Author: Red Burtt

Monday, January 03, 2005

I think It's Sad

The Atheist:
I feel very sorry for the "Atheist", they have nothing to look forward to.
Author: Red Burtt