The Passing of an Old Friend
My parents told me about Mr. Common Sense early in my life and told me I would do well to call on him when making decisions. It seems he was always around  in my early years but less and less as time passed by.  Today I  read his obituary. Please join me in a moment of silence in  remembrance, for Common Sense had served us all so well for so many  generations.
 
Obituary
Common Sense 

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has  been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was  since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.  He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as  knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the  worm, life isn't always fair , and maybe it was my fault. 

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies  (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies  (adults, not children are in charge).

His health began to  deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing  regulations were set in place. Teens suspended from  school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for  reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. 

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for  doing the job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their  unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required  to get parental consent to administer Aspirin, sun lotion or a  Band-Aid to a student, but could not  inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have  an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten  Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and  criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense  took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in  your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault. 

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman  failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot.  She  spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge  settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his  parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter,  Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by three  stepbrothers; I Know my Rights, Someone Else is to Blame, and I'm a  Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few  realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on.   If not, join the majority and do nothing.

 

A Dictionary for Women
Aaaack (aak) interj. An utterance upon running directly into a spider web first thing in the morning - and you don't know where the spider is.
Airhead (er*hed) n. What a woman intentionally becomes when pulled over by a policeman.

Argument (ar*gyou*ment) n. A discussion that occurs when you're right, but he just hasn't realized it yet.

Balance the checkbook (bal*ens da chek*buk) v. To go to the cash machine and hit "inquire."

Bar-be-que (bar*bi*q) n. You bought the groceries, washed the lettuce, chopped the tomatoes, diced the onions, marinated the meat and cleaned everything up, but *he* "made the dinner."

Blonde jokes (blond joks) n. Jokes that are short so men can understand them.

Cantaloupe (kant*e*lope) n. Gotta get married in a church.

Clothes dryer (kloze dri*yer) n. An appliance designed to eat socks.

Diet Soda (dy*it so*da) n. A drink you buy at a convenience store to go with a half pound bag of peanut M&Ms.

Eternity (e*ter*ni*tee) n. The last two minutes of a basketball game.

Exercise (ex*er*siz) v. To walk up and down a mall, occasionally resting to make a purchase.

Grocery List (grow*ser*ee list) n. What you spend half an hour writing, then forget to take with you to the store.

Hair Dresser (hare dres*er) n. Someone who is able to create a style you will never be able to duplicate again. See "Magician."

Hardware Store (hard*war stor) n. Similar to a black hole in space - if he goes in, he isn't coming out anytime soon.

Childbirth (child*brth) n. You get to go through 36 hours of contractions; he gets to hold your hand and say "focus, breath push..."

Lipstick (lip*stik) n. On your lips, coloring to enhance the beauty of your mouth. On his collar, coloring only trashy women would wear...!

Park (park) v./n. Before children, a verb meaning, "to go somewhere and neck." After children, a noun meaning a place with a swing set and slide.

Patience (pa*shens) n. The most important ingredient for dating, marriage and children. See also "tranquilizers".

Valentine's Day (val*en*tinez dae) n. A day when you have dreams of a candlelight dinner, diamonds, and romance, but consider yourself lucky to get a card.

Waterproof Mascara (wah*tr*pruf mas*kar*ah) n. Comes off if you cry, shower, or swim, but will not come off if you try to remove it.

Zillion (zil*yen) n. The number of times you ask someone to take out the trash, then end up doing it yourself ...anyway.