My new party trick. I swallow two pieces of string and an hour later they come out of my ass tied together.

I s hit you knot.

Why Seniors Should Not Fly

I hate flying. Since I retired ten years ago, I drive almost everywhere I can to avoid the airport hassles.

I had to make a cross-country trip, so I reluctantly booked my ticket, packed, and went to the airport. Having read horror stories about the TSA, I was more than a bit nervous.

I went to check my luggage, and the lady said my bag weighed too much so I had to pay an additional fee. I reached in my pocket and got my wallet out to begrudgingly pay when the clerk said: "Strip down, facing me."

Making a mental note to complain to my Congressman about Homeland Security running amok, I did just as she had instructed.

When the hysterical shrieking and alarms finally subsided, I found out that she was referring to my credit card.

TSA security was a breeze after that, although I'm sure I'm on some list.

http://teachers.henrico.k12.va.us/varina/tyler_e/funcenter/a ngrysquirrel.htm
(In case the URL doesn't work)

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"I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!

Little did I suspect...

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns and slow traffic. As I passed an oncoming car, a brown, furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.

It was a squirrel, and it must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me.

I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves.

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his beady little eyes.

His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt!

I was pretty sure the scream was Squirrel for "Bonzai!" or maybe "Die, you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of spectacular...

He shot straight up, flew over my windshield, and impacted me squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.

Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black-and-chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and leather g