A cowboy named Bud was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture in Montana when suddenly a brand-new 2018 BMW advanced toward him out of a cloud of dust. The driver, a young man named Cliff in a Brioni® suit, Gucci® shoes, RayBan® sunglasses and YSL® tie, leaned out the window and asked the cowboy, “If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?”
Bud looks at the man, who obviously is a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, “Sure, why not?”
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell® notebook computer, connects it to his Apple iPhone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop® and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany …
Within seconds, he receives an email on his Apple iPad® that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL® database through an ODBC connected Excel® spreadsheet with email on his Galaxy S8® and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet® printer, turns to the cowboy and says, “You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.”
“That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,” says Bud.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on with amusement as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then Bud says to the young man, “Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay, why not?”
“You’re a Congressman for the U.S. Government”, says Bud.
“Wow! That’s correct,” says the yuppie, “but how did you guess that?”
“No guessing required.” answered the cowboy. “You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You used millions of dollars worth of equipment trying to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know nothing about how working people make a living – or about cows, for that matter. This is a herd of sheep.”
“Now give me back my dog.”
All I ask is that librarians use silencers.
Black history is American history that should not be limited to the shortest month of the year.
Chelsea Clinton Is the Biological Daughter Of Webb Hubbell
For years, the Clintons have gone to great lengths to pretend to be something they are not: a family. To this day, Bill often refers to Hillary as his “wife”, despite the fact he has been kicked out of her house a long time ago. And Hillary refers to Bill as her “husband”, despite the fact that Hillary knew Bill was sexually unhinged from the day she “married” Bill on Oct. 11, 1975.
Dear friends, it is with the saddest heart that I have to pass on the following:
Poppin’ Fresh, the Pillsbury Doughboy died Monday of a severe yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes to the belly. He was 58. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out, including Mrs. Butterworth, the California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The graveside was piled high with flours as longtime friend Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy, describing Poppin’ as a man who “never knew how much he was kneaded”.
Very few people know he had a dark side.
Poppin’ rose quickly in show business but his later life was filled with many turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, even as a crusty old man, he was considered a roll model for millions.
Toward the end it was thought he’d rise once again, but he was no tart. Poppin’ Fresh is survived by his first wife Poppie Fresh, and his son, Play Dough, and another bun in the oven.
The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
During the dark times in your life you will find out who is really there for you, who loves you and who doesn’t. You will find out who will go to bat for you, and who likes you for what you are, and not what you have. You will find out who you can trust and who you can’t trust. You will find out who talks trash and who will tell you the truth even though you may not like it.
Dark times put you in check and will allow you to see who is fake and who is real. This is good because you can identify those who you should not waste your energy on and not let them rent space in your head.
No matter how laid back and cool you are, there will always be someone who doesn’t like you for no reason, its life. We’re all ugly to someone, fake to someone, stuck-up to someone, ain’t shit to someone, a loser to someone, a bitch to someone but who cares.
Make your money, pay your bills, and take care of your family! Hating on me won’t stop my ATM card from working. Hustle until your haters ask if you’re hiring and don’t worry about what someone else thinks, if they don’t know you personally, don’t take it personal. Nobody can steal my joy, because they didn’t give it to me.
I’ve seen better days, but I’ve also seen worse. I don’t have everything I want, but I have everything I need. I woke up with some aches and pains, but I woke up. My life may not be perfect, but I am blessed.
Life is like toilet paper, either you’re on a roll, or you’re taking shit from some asshole.
“You graduated high school in 2011. Your teenage years were a struggle. You grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. Your mother was the leader of the family and worked tirelessly to keep a roof over your head and food on your plate. Academics were a struggle for you and your grades were mediocre at best. The only thing that made you stand out is you weighed 225 lbs and could run 40 yards in 4.2 seconds while carrying a football. Your best friend was just like you, except he didn’t play football. Instead of going to football practice after school, he went to work at McDonalds for minimum wage.You were recruited by all the big colleges and spent every weekend of your senior year making visits to universities where coaches and boosters tried to convince you their school was best. They laid out the red carpet for you. Your best friend worked double shifts at Mickey D’s. College was not an option for him. On the day you signed with Big State University, your best friend signed paperwork with his Army recruiter. You went to summer workouts. He went to basic training.
You spent the next four years living in the athletic dorm, eating at the training table. You spent your Saturdays on the football field, cheered on by adoring fans. Tutors attended to your every academic need. You attended class when you felt like it. Sure, you worked hard. You lifted weights, ran sprints, studied plays, and soon became one of the top football players in the country.
Your best friend was assigned to the 101st Airborne Division. While you were in college, he deployed to Iraq once and Afghanistan twice. He became a Sergeant and led a squad of 19 year old soldiers who grew up just like he did. He shed his blood in Afghanistan and watched young American men give their lives, limbs, and innocence for the USA.
You went to the NFL combine and scored off the charts. Your hired an agent and waited for draft day. You were drafted in the first round and your agent immediately went to work, ensuring that you received the most money possible. You signed for $16 million although you had never played a single down of professional football. Your best friend re-enlisted in the Army for four more years. As a combat tested sergeant, he will be paid $32,000 per year.
You will drive a Ferrari on the streets of South Beach. He will ride in the back of a Blackhawk helicopter with 10 other combat loaded soldiers. You will sleep at the Ritz. He will dig a hole in the ground and try to sleep. You will “make it rain” in the club. He will pray for rain as the temperature reaches 120 degrees.
On Sunday, you will run into a stadium as tens of thousands of fans cheer and yell your name. For your best friend, there is little difference between Sunday and any other day of the week. There are no adoring fans. There are only people trying to kill him and his soldiers. Every now and then, he and his soldiers leave the front lines and “go to the rear” to rest. He might be lucky enough to catch an NFL game on TV. When the National Anthem plays and you take a knee, he will jump to his feet and salute the television. While you protest the unfairness of life in the United States, he will give thanks to God that he has the honor of defending his great country.
To the players of the NFL: We are the people who buy your tickets, watch you on TV, and wear your jerseys. We anxiously wait for Sundays so we can cheer for you and marvel at your athleticism.
Although we love to watch you play, we care little about your opinions until you offend us. You have the absolute right to express yourselves, but we have the absolute right to boycott you. We have tolerated your drug use and DUIs, your domestic violence, and your vulgar displays of wealth. We should be ashamed for putting our admiration of your physical skills before what is morally right. But now you have gone too far. You have insulted our flag, our country, our soldiers, our police officers, and our veterans. You are living the American dream, yet you disparage our great country.
I’m done with NFL football and encourage all like minded Americans to boycott the NFL.”