Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: Top 10 Signs You Are Too Old To Be Trick Or Treating

10. You get winded from knocking on the door.

9. You have to have your younger wife chew the candy for you.

8. You ask for high fiber candy only.

7. When someone drops a candy bar in your bag, you lose your balance and fall over.

6. People say, "Great Bobby Dykes mask!" and you're not wearing a mask.

5. When the door opens you yell, "Trick or..." and can't remember the rest.

4. By the end of the night, you have a bag of full of restraining orders.

3. You have to carefully choose a costume that won't dislodge your hairpiece.

2. You're the only Power Ranger in the neighborhood with a walker.

and the top sign you are old to be Trick or Treating...

You avoid going to houses where your ex-wives live.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: Why did the chicken truck cross the road.

Teresa Stepzinski wrote the following story in the Thursday, 10/25/07 Georgia Times Union.

"WAYCROSS - Which came first, the chicken truck or the freight train?

Better still, why did the chicken truck try to cross the railroad tracks in front of a train early Wednesday?

The answer came with a bang in a 1:36 a.m. collision that spewed frozen chicken wings for about a block around the railroad crossing at Plant Avenue and Isabella Street in downtown Waycross.

The truck driver and train crew all were uninjured. The crossing and intersection were closed until 8:30 a.m. for the investigation and cleanup."

A friend of mine tried to help with the following e-mail:

Why do you think he crossed the road??
The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that he
must first deal with his problems on "THIS" side of the road
before it goes after his problems on the "OTHER SIDE" of the road.
What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not
taking on his "CURRENT" problems before adding "NEW" problems.
Well I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he
wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the
chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of
life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive
across the road and not live his life like the rest of the
GEORGE W BUSH: We don't really care why this chicken crossed the
road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not.
The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle
ground here. ________________ ____________________________________
Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite
image of the chicken crossing the road...
We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet
been allowed access to the other side of the road.
Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against
it. It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about th e
chicken's intentions.
I am not for it now, and will remain against it. Probably.
___________________________________________ ________
That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see it
in his eyes, and in the way he walks.
To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
No one called me to warn me what direction that chicken was going.< /FONT>
I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when
the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any
insider information.
Did the chicken - cross the road?
Did he cross it - with a toad?
Yes, the chicken crossed the road -
but why it crossed -
I've not been told!
To die in the rain.
Because the chicken is gay! Can't you people see the plain truth
in front of your face? The chicken was going to the "other
side." That's why they call it, the "other side." Yes, my friends,
that chicken is gay. And if you eat that chicken, you will
become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this
abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless
phrases like," the other side." That chicken should not be crossing
the road. It's as plain and as simple as that.
(no disrespect intended to the late minister)
In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody
told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for
the first time, in its own words, the heart-warming
story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to
accomplish its life long dream, of crossing the road.
Imagine all the chickens...
It's easy, if you try...
Crossing roads, together...
Hoping not, to die...
Imagine all, the chickens...
Crossing, roads, in peace....
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
I have just released eChicken2000, Millen nium Edition, which will
not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important
documents, and
balance your check book. Internet Explorer is a integral part of
This new platform is much more stable and will never
Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move
beneath the chicken?
I did not cross the roa d with that chicken. What is your definition
of chicken?
I invented the chicken!
Did I miss one?
________________________________________________ ____
Where's my gun?

Friday, October 19, 2007

Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: Pastor Has Guts


It seems prayer still upsets some people. Please read....
When Minister Joe Wright was asked to open the new session of the
Kansas Senate, everyone was expecting the usual generalities, but
this is what they heard;
"Heavenly Father,
We come before you today
To ask your forgiveness and
To seek your direction and guidance.
We know Your Word says,
"Woe to those who call evil good"
But that is exactly what we have done.
We have lost our spiritual equilibrium
And reversed our values.
We have exploited the poor and
Called it the lottery.
We have rewarded laziness
And called it welfare.
We have killed our unborn
and called it choice.
We have shot abortionists
And called it justifiable.
We have n eglected to discipline our children and called it
Building self esteem.
We have abused power
And called it politics.
We have coveted our neighbor's
Possessions and called it ambition.
We have polluted the air with profanity and
Pornography and called it
Freedom of speech and expression.
We have ridiculed the time
Honoured values of our Forefathers
and called it enlightenment.
Search us, Oh, God,
And know our hearts today;
Cleanse us from every sin
And set us free.

The response was immediate. A number of legislators walked Out

during the prayer in protest.

In 6 short weeks, Central Christian Church, where Rev. Wright is

pastor, logged more than 5,000 phone calls with only 47 Of those

calls responding negatively. The church is now receiving

international requests for copies of this prayer from India, Africa

and Korea.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: "The Price of Children"

I've been spending a lot of time lately at the North Glynn County Recreation Complex. Our tax dollars have been well spent on a great facility that offers a lot to our community. I salute the folks that work and volunteer there and make it all happen.
My son, JoJo has been playing soccer for the Wave 104.1 team under the direction of Josh Lewis and Mike Waters. Being around so many children reminds me of a little story that a friend of mine shared with me. I'd like to now share it with you:

"The Price of Children"

I have repeatedly seen the breakdown of the cost
of raising a child, but this is the first time I have seen
the rewards listed this way. It's nice.

The government recently calculated the cost of raising
a child from birth to 18 to be $160,140 for a middle
income family. Talk about sticker shock! That doesn't
even touch college tuition.

But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down. It
translates into:

* $8,896.66 a year, or

* $741.38 a month, or

* $171.08 a week.

* That's a mere $24.24 a day!

* Just over a dollar an hour.

Still, you might think the best financial advice is "if you
want to be 'rich', don't have children.

Actually, it is just the opposite.

What do you get for your $160,140?

* Naming rights. First, middle, and last!
* Glimpses of G~d every day.
* Giggles under the covers every night.
* More love than your heart can hold.
* Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.
* Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm
* A hand to hold, usually covered with jelly or chocolate.
* A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites
* Someone to laugh yourself silly with, no matter what
the boss said or how your stocks performed that day

For $160,140, you never have to grow up.

You get to:

* finger-paint,
* carve pumpkins,
* play hide-and-seek,
* catch lightning bugs, and
* never stop believing in Santa Claus.

You have an excuse to:

* keep reading "The Adventures of Piglet and Pooh"
* watch Saturday morning cartoons,
* go to Disney movies,
* wish upon a star.

You also get to:
* frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator
magnets, and collect:
* spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas,
* hand prints set in clay or Mother's Day, and
* cards with backward letters for Father's Day.

For $160,140, there is no bigger bang for your buck.

You get to be a hero just for:
* retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof,
* taking the training wheels off a bike,
* removing a splinter,
* filling a wading pool,
* coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and
* coaching a baseball team that never wins but always
gets treated to ice cream regardless.

You get a front row seat to history to witness history:
* her first step,
* his first word,
* her first bra,
* his first date, and
* their first time behind the wheel.

You get to be immortal.

You get another branch added to your family tree, and
if you're lucky, a long list of limbs called grandchildren
and great grandchildren in your obituary.

You get an education in psychology, nursing,
criminal justice, communications, and human
sexuality that no college can match.

In the eyes of a child, you rank right up there under G~d.

You have the power to:
* heal a boo-boo,
* scare away the monsters under the bed,
* patch a broken heart,
* police a slumber party,
* ground them forever, and
* love them without limits...

so that one day they, like you, will love without counting
the cost.

That is quite a deal for the price!

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: Truckstop Restrooms

Truckstop Restrooms

I've been hearing about the uproar over the new truckstop sign at Exit 29 on I-95. a lot of folks are mad about it. Yeah, the GOASIS sign is bright, but there is a bigger problem that needs to be addressed first. The issue that really needs attention is truckstop restrooms in general! I continue to be amazed by truckstop restrooms! From the vile vermin in the air to the nasty floors it is indeed an amazing sight and smell. Is there some kind of law that says that they can only be cleaned once a year? And that cleaning comes once a year, whether it needs it or not. I'll say this about the cleanliness, if I were to drop a hundred bill on the floor of a truckstop restroom I wouldn't pick it up!
I don't think "Germex" or industrial strength "Lysol" can fight that fight! They also need to change the name from "restroom" to something else. The last thing I can do in those places is rest. No relaxation! I'm staying on my toes and getting out before the vermin latch hold to me! Forget about washing your hands in there. The soap don't have a chance! A full immersion in "Lava" (with pumice) is probably what the doctor would order. And have you seen the latest thing on the wall, next to the glow in the dark adult novelties? A 25 cent shot of your favorite fragrance. Drop in your change and hit the pump. Who came up with this idea? I smell a lawsuit coming. "Yes, your honor, I was just trying to put a little on my neck. I hit the aroma plunger and it sprayed all in my eyes. The doctor says I got Hi Karate Eye. A million dollars or so ought to help me out." Need to relieve yourself, find a fast food joint and a take a "McPee"!

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: Worry


Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become
accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful
moment when parents can become detached
spectators in the lives of their children and shrug,
"It's their life," and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital
corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in
my son's head. I asked, "When do you stop worrying?"
The nurse said, "When they get out of the accident
stage." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a
classroom and heard how one of my children talked
incessantly, disrupted the class, and was headed
for a career making license plates. As if to read my
mind, a teacher said, "Don't worry, they all go through
this stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy
them." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for
the phone to ring, the cars to come home, the front door
to open. A friend said, "They're trying to find themselves.
Don't worry, in a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll
be adults." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick and tired of being
vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there
was a new wrinkle. There was nothing I could do about it.
My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing. I continued
to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their
frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments.

My friends said that when my kids got married I could
stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe
that, but I was haunted by my mother's warm smile and
her occasional, "You look pale. Are you all right? Call
me the minute you get home. Are you depressed about

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of
worry? Is concern for one another handed down like
a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears
of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue that
elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable recently,
saying to me, "Where were you? I've been calling for
three days, and no one answered I was worried."

I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed!