Nice Nataly's

Thine eyes shine like CDs in the morning sun,
I long to have thy software in my hands.
And when you send a GIF for me to run,
I feel a sudden twitch within my glands.

How sweet our cybersex in private rooms,
You type of lust and send it over the Net.
How sad it seems when my love's signoff looms,
I leave my mousepad miserable and wet.

And yet I wonder on my lover's face
I only know thee through thine online chat,
And although I do not care about thy race,
Perhaps thou has the features of a rat.

But in the end your beauty matters not,
for it's your email that gets me so hot.

Seven New York City bartenders were asked if they could nail a woman's personality based on what she drinks. Though interviewed separately, they concurred on almost all counts. The results:

Drink: Beer
Personality: Casual, low-maintenance; down to earth.
Your Approach: Challenge her to a game of pool.

Drink: Blender Drinks
Personality: Flaky, annoying; a pain in the ass.
Your Approach: Avoid her, unless you want to be her cabin boy.

Drink: Mixed Drinks
Personality: Older, has picky taste; knows what she wants.
Your Approach: You won't have to approach her. She'll send YOU a drink.

Drink: Wine - (does not include white zinfandel, see below)
Personality: Conservative and classy, sophisticated.
Your Approach: Tell her you wish Reagan had had four more years...Alzheimer's and term limits be damned.

Drink: White Zin
Personality: Easy; thinks she is classy and sophisticated, actually has no clue.
Your approach: Make her feel smarter than she is...

Drink: Shots
Personality: Hanging with frat-boy pals or looking to get drunk ... and naked.
Your Approach: Easiest hit in the joint. Nothing to do but wait.

Additional note: If she likes salt on the rim of her Margarita, she swallows.

A couple drove down a country road for several miles, not saying a word. An earlier discussion had led to an argument and neither of them wanted to concede their position. As they passed a barnyard of mules, goats and pigs, the husband asked sarcastically, "Relatives of yours?" "Yep," the wife replied, "in-laws."

Every year at the state fair Paul entered the lottery for the brand new truck and lost. This year, he told his friend David, he wasn't going to bother and enter.

"What kind of attitude is that?" David asked. He leaned closer and whispered, "What you need, pal, is faith. Look around and see if the good Lord sends you a message."

Strolling around the fair, Paul grew more and more despondent as the drawing neared. Nothing struck him, no divine inspiration, no sign from God.

Finally, while he was passing old Mrs. Kelleher's pie stand, he glanced over and saw the woman bending down. She wasn't wearing any panties, and suddenly her ass began to glow. Suddenly a finger of flame came from the skies and without her even knowing it, used her ass as a table. The fiery finger etched a seven on each cheek.

Thanking God, Paul rushed to the raffle booth and played the number 77.

A few minutes later, the drawing was held. And once again, Paul lost. The winning number was 707.

Tell him I've been too fucking busy... or vice versa.