<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:39:19.822-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Abdicating Sanity</title><subtitle type='html'>Mamma always said stupid is as stupid does.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-1034429006630131881</id><published>2007-08-02T02:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T18:14:15.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Early morning ramblings</title><content type='html'>The rain fell hard against the window.  The sound of mice scurrying across the floor filled the man's ears.  He remembered back to earlier  days when he did not hear such sounds.  If only it was yesterday he thought to himself.  He wondered if they would ever leave. They haunted him ever so frequently.  Sometimes one by one. Other times they would all scream at once.  He recalled the nights he spent screaming "Shut up!" "Leave me alone". Tonight there was silence. He finally thought all his screaming and crying finally paid off. Then came the rain and the mice.  Now he laid there wishing that it was the voices  instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-1034429006630131881?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/1034429006630131881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=1034429006630131881&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/1034429006630131881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/1034429006630131881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2007/08/early-morning-ramblings.html' title='Early morning ramblings'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-6951127071717277251</id><published>2007-06-08T22:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T22:45:29.729-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's going on here?</title><content type='html'>So I thought that I would try the &lt;a href="http://occluded.blogspot.com/"&gt;soundtrack game&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening Credits: Stone Free- Jimi Hendrix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking Up: You are the Sunshine of My Life- Stevie Wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling in Love: Impromptu Op90 No3-Aubrey Hilliard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fight Song: Soul to Squeeze- Red Hot Chili Peppers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breaking  Up: Ode to A Superhero- Weird Al Yakovic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Formal/Prom: High Speed- Coldplay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life: Swingtown- Steve Miller Band&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mental Breakdown: For No One- The Beatles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving: Basket Case- Green Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flash Back: Blue Moon-The Marcels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting Back Together: One More Minute-Weird Al Yakovic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wedding: A Mighty Wind-The Folksmen,Mitch &amp; Mickey,The New Main Street Singers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birth of a Child: Jokerman- Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final Battle: I Fought Piranhas-White Stripes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End Credits: One After 909- The Beatles &lt;script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!-- if (browserHasRadio()){ document.write('&lt;td class="listen"&gt;');var link = krexLink('/gp/recsradio/radio/B00008QS9V/ref=pd_krex_dp_001017/102-7036224-4584959?ie=UTF8&amp;track=017&amp;disc=001'); document.write(link + 'Listen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/G/01/x-locale/detail/music/notes_clear._V47082447_.gif" width="14" alt="" align="bottom" class="icon" height="14" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;');} //--&gt; &lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-6951127071717277251?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/6951127071717277251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=6951127071717277251&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/6951127071717277251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/6951127071717277251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2007/06/whats-going-on-here.html' title='What&apos;s going on here?'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-5132867929001226938</id><published>2006-12-12T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T02:57:25.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day Giftmas and TV tag teamed to crush my spirit</title><content type='html'>Growing up we did not have the luxuries afforded to others.  The other children in the neighborhood had fancy toys and large screen TVs.  All we had were cardboard boxes that dad brought home from work.  If we were lucky he would also bring us &lt;a href="http://www.funehumor.com/images/fun/cubicle.jpg"&gt;packing foam&lt;/a&gt;, that is until Timmy &lt;a href="http://www.funehumor.com/images/fun/snowflak.jpg"&gt;ate a box full&lt;/a&gt; and had to rushed to the hospital.  &lt;a href="http://www.williamhung.net/photos/Gallery/33.jpg"&gt;Timmy&lt;/a&gt; had a way of &lt;a href="http://www.funehumor.com/images/fun/signhere.jpg"&gt;ruining all our fun&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;We use to cut the boxes and tape the together to make a TV so big it the other children jealous. Then the "&lt;a href="http://www.fugly.com/media/IMAGES/Dumb/fugly50208700.jpg"&gt;over active&lt;/a&gt;" children would play &lt;a href="http://www.aopartyrentals.com/images/Corporate%20Events/corp%20event%20foosball%202.jpg"&gt;football &lt;/a&gt;in it.  The rest of us just imagined we watching the big game. Oh those were great times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Every year at Giftmas my Uncle Wendy(his &lt;a href="http://images.icnetwork.co.uk/upl/icnewcastle/aug2006/8/4/06C64A07-BC90-CF75-59A22518E0C44A42.jpg"&gt;parents&lt;/a&gt; never liked &lt;a href="http://www.funehumor.com/images/fun/dragkery.jpg"&gt;him&lt;/a&gt;) would come over and tell us stories of his "wonderful life."  They were the best stories that we had ever &lt;a href="http://chrio.org/pictures/Cousin_Debbie/06_andrew_sleeping.jpg"&gt;heard&lt;/a&gt;.  We just could not get enough. It was not truly Giftmas without good old fashioned Wendy's stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; There was one about the time he wish he was dead. An &lt;a href="http://images.foodnetwork.com/webfood/images/cooking/recipehowtos/angel_food_cake.jpg"&gt;angel&lt;/a&gt; came to show him what life would be like &lt;a href="http://instructors.cwrl.utexas.edu/russell/files/new%20years%202003.jpg"&gt;without him&lt;/a&gt;. He told us of the one Giftmas where all he wanted was a &lt;a href="http://www.wholesalehunter.com/product/daisygun/dasydes/dasypic/dasypic9938.jpg"&gt;Red Rider Air Rifle&lt;/a&gt; and the trouble he through to get it.  There was the time when he and an &lt;a href="http://cats2100.tripod.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/.pond/sunna_funny_cat.jpg.w300h267.jpg"&gt;old army buddy&lt;/a&gt; had a &lt;a href="http://www.voanews.com/serbian/images/ap_tom_cruise_katie_holmes_210.jpg"&gt;famous act in show business&lt;/a&gt;.  One year they went up to &lt;a href="http://wwp.greenwichmeantime.com/images/usa/vermont.jpg"&gt;Vermont&lt;/a&gt; where they meet their old general, who is down on his luck. Of course my Uncle and his buddy &lt;a href="http://www.trp.dundee.ac.uk/images/gallery/balls/2004/unofficial/i%20think%20theyve%20been%20drinking....jpg"&gt;cheered&lt;/a&gt; him up. Then there was the time he hosted Giftmas at his house.  That one is my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   It had everything from blinding &lt;a href="http://media1.gkko.com/1552/fortracey.jpg"&gt;lights&lt;/a&gt; to crazy attacking &lt;a href="http://www.sugarbushsquirrel.com/642344.html"&gt;squirrels&lt;/a&gt;.  His strange but lovable cousin stopped by and ended up kidnapping &lt;a href="http://www.lebaneselobby.org/lebanese/picture/L-A/Dave%20Thomas/dave-thomas.jpg"&gt;Wendy's boss&lt;/a&gt;.  A cat got burned while feasting on it's dinner of bulb on a rope. Oh the hi jinks ensued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Well Uncle Wendy moved on to greener pastures in Kansas and we never  heard from  him  again.   With such loss we  did what anyone in our potion would do.  We bought a TV.  What I saw shook me to the bone.  On every channel there we one of Uncle Wendy's stories.  I could not believe my eyes. I felt so betrayed. How could someone do such a thing to a poor innocent child like myself.  I cried that night like never before. The night I learned that......&lt;a href="http://www.godfist.com/vrnewpic9.jpg"&gt;TV had stolen my Uncle's life.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-5132867929001226938?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/5132867929001226938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=5132867929001226938&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/5132867929001226938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/5132867929001226938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2006/12/day-giftmas-and-tv-tag-teamed-to-crush.html' title='The day Giftmas and TV tag teamed to crush my spirit'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-3230327179119881292</id><published>2006-12-11T22:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T00:12:30.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day Giftmas ruined climbing  trees</title><content type='html'>It was the night before Giftmas and all through the house a creature was stirring quite like a mouse(our pet &lt;a href="http://www.internetstart.se/bildgalleri/pics/00534.jpg"&gt;hamster&lt;/a&gt; decided to go all AWOL on us during a cage cleaning).  I was an inquisitive young lad of about 3.  I saw a &lt;a href="http://www.greenmonsterarts.co.uk/images/greenmonster.gif"&gt;green furry monstrosity&lt;/a&gt; in the corner of the room.  I normally avoid &lt;a href="http://www.goeventdecor.com/Images/Full%20size%20Images/green%20monster%20GO%20SET.jpg"&gt;monstrous &lt;/a&gt;things, being relatively smart.  However this &lt;a href="http://muppet.wikia.com/images/c/c9/OG-p0002-ST.jpg"&gt;monster&lt;/a&gt; was different.  It had &lt;a href="http://www.soft3k.com/imgs/3d-Christmas-Tree-ScreenSaver-w300-58.jpg"&gt;bright lights blinking in hypnotic syncopation&lt;/a&gt;.  If that was not enough there was the brightest &lt;a href="http://www.pro-light.jp/hid/bright_star/images/bs_24_hid_1_320.jpg"&gt;light &lt;/a&gt;ever known to man illuminating from the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I soon realized it's drawing power as I moved closer and closer.  I stood next to the monster with it's fur tickling my nose.  I was determined in my resolve to have that light.  I took a deep breath, reached out grabbed  the beast and started to climb.  The monster shook violently, rocking back and forth, as if wailing in pain.  Then it started it's attack hurling objects left and right with orbs of glass smashing all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dodged what I could but there was too much and I lost my grip.  In a quick act of desperation I reached out and caught a life line.  To my surprise the bright lights of blinking hypnotic syncopation where connected by a rope.  I knew that nothing could stop me now. With renewed determination I continued my ascent up the beast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.  The green furry monstrosity, in his last ditch attempt to thwart my determination, flung himself on top of me. A loud thud rang through the house and my loving father ran into the room to see what the ruckus was all about.  I mustered up all the strength that I could and crawled out from the beast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruised and battered I stood before my dad explaining how the monster was taunting me with his bright light. How instead of backing down I conquered my fear and took on my enemy. Explaining in detail my epic adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual he did not seem amused. He then explained to me that the so called "monster" was really a &lt;a href="http://www.christmas-day.org/gifs/christmas-tree.jpg"&gt;tree&lt;/a&gt;. He also told me that some &lt;a href="http://www.kokachi.com/img/santa1.gif"&gt;fat guy&lt;/a&gt; leaves "goodies" under said "&lt;a href="http://www.christmas-day.org/gifs/christmas-tree.jpg"&gt;tree&lt;/a&gt;".  However since "I knocked it over" fatty would &lt;a href="http://files.myopera.com/Bj%c3%b8rk/albums/60611/thumbs/Santa%20Clause%20is%20dead.jpg_thumb.jpg"&gt;not leave anything at our house tonight&lt;/a&gt;.  Since then I have never climbed a "tree".  For I know their true nature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-3230327179119881292?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/3230327179119881292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=3230327179119881292&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/3230327179119881292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/3230327179119881292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2006/12/day-giftmas-ruined-climbing-trees.html' title='The day Giftmas ruined climbing  trees'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-114801106964919310</id><published>2006-05-18T23:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T00:27:25.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokes are Funny?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What did he say? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; An elderly couple were driving across the country. The woman was driving when she got pulled over by the highway patrol. The officer said, "Ma'am did you know you were speeding?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman, hard of hearing, turned to her husband and asked, "What did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man yelled, "He says you were speeding!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The patrolman said, "May I see your license?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman turned to her husband once again and asked, "What did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man yelled, "He wants to see your license!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman gave the officer her license. The patrolman then said, "I see you are from Arkansas. I spent some time there once and went on a blind date with the ugliest woman I've ever seen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman turned to her husband and asked, "What did he say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man yells, "He said he thinks he knows you!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ten dollars is ten dollars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Every year, Smitty and his wife Martha went to the State Fair. And every year, Smitty would say, "Martha, I'd like to ride in that there airplane." And every year, Martha would reply, "I know, Smitty, but that airplane ride costs ten dollars, and ten dollars is ten dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one year Smitty and Martha went to the fair and Smitty said, "Martha, I'm 71 years old. If I don't ride that airplane this year I may never get another chance. "&lt;br /&gt;Martha replied, "Smitty, that there airplane ride costs ten dollars, and ten dollars is ten dollars."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot overheard them and said, "Folks, I'll make you a deal. I'll take you both up for a ride. If you can stay quiet for the entire ride and not say one word, I won't charge you, but if you say one word it's ten dollars." Smitty and Martha agreed, and up they went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pilot performed all kinds of twists and turns, rolls and dives, but not a word is heard. He even does a nose dive, pulling up 15 feet above the ground, but still not a word. They land and the pilot turns to Smitty, "By golly, I did everything I could think of to get you to yell out, but you didn't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smitty replied, "Well, I was gonna say something when Martha fell out, ...but ten dollars is ten dollars!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Contemporary Art&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A tiny but dignified old lady was among a group looking at an art exhibition in a newly opened gallery. Suddenly one contemporary painting caught her eye. "What on earth," she inquired of the artist standing nearby, "is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled condescendingly. "That, my dear lady, is supposed to be a mother and her child."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, then," snapped the little old lady, "why isn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Front row&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elderly woman walked into the local country church. The friendly usher greeted her at the door and helped her up the flight of steps. "Where would you like to sit?" he asked politely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The front row please." she answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You really don't want to do that", the usher said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The pastor is really boring."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you happen to know who I am?" the woman inquired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm the pastor's mother," she replied indignantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know who I am?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good", he answered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sensitive Guy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve, Bob and Jeff are working on a very high scaffolding. Suddenly, Steve falls off. He is killed instantaneously. After the ambulance leaves with Steve's body, Bob and Jeff realize they'll have to inform his wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bob says he's good at this sort of sensitive stuff, so he volunteers to do the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After two hours he returns, carrying a large pizza. "So did you tell her?" asks Jeff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yep", replies Bob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Say, where did you get the pizza?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bob informs Jeff. "She bought it for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT??" exclaims Jeff, "you just told her her husband died and she bought you a pizza?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," Bob says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHY?" asks Jeff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," Bob continues, "when she answered the door, I asked her, 'are you Steve's widow?' 'Widow?', she said, 'no, no, you're mistaken, I'm not a widow!' So I said: "I'll bet you a pizza you ARE!'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Famous last words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ol' Fred had been a faithful Christian and was in the hospital, near death. The family called their preacher to stand with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the preacher stood next to the bed, Ol' Fred's condition appeared to deteriorate and he motioned frantically for something to write on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor lovingly handed him a pen and a piece of paper, and Ol' Fred used his last bit of energy to scribble a note, then he died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The preacher thought it best not to look at the note at that time, so he placed it in his jacket pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the funeral, as he was finishing the message, he realized that he was wearing the same jacket that he was wearing when Ol' Fred died. He said, "You know, Ol' Fred handed me a note just before he died. I haven't looked at it, but knowing Fred, I'm sure there's a word of inspiration there for us all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opened the note, and read, "Hey, you're standing on my oxygen tube!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;One cookie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was an elderly man at home, upstairs, dying in bed. He smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies baking. He wanted one last cookie before he died. led down the stairs and crawled into the kitchen where his wife was busily baking cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With his last remaining strength he crawled to the table and was just barely able to lift his withered arm to the cookie sheet. As he grasped a warm, moist chocolate chip cookie, his favorite kind, his wife suddenly whacked his hand with a spatula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gasping for breath, he asked her, "Why did you do that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Those are for the funeral."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-114801106964919310?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/114801106964919310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=114801106964919310&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/114801106964919310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/114801106964919310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2006/05/jokes-are-funny.html' title='Jokes are Funny?'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-114317615932180985</id><published>2006-03-23T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T23:55:59.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that go bump in the night</title><content type='html'>One night I woke up without my head.  I felt around for it but could not find it. I feel off the bed screaming. It was then that I realized it was all a dream. However the thought that it really happened would not leave my mind.  Could it have been real? "Don't be stupid, man" I said to myself. After all how could I think without my head? Well whatever happened I decided it was time to get back in bed. Besides it was not too entertaining sitting on the floor with a pillow case hanging off my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-114317615932180985?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/114317615932180985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=114317615932180985&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/114317615932180985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/114317615932180985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2006/03/things-that-go-bump-in-night.html' title='Things that go bump in the night'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113738852970632194</id><published>2006-01-16T00:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T00:15:29.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I laughed I cried it moved me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://fattymcfat.ytmnd.com/"&gt;http://fattymcfat.ytmnd.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113738852970632194?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113738852970632194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113738852970632194&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113738852970632194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113738852970632194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-laughed-i-cried-it-moved-me.html' title='I laughed I cried it moved me'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113601112856538975</id><published>2005-12-31T01:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T01:38:48.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>Remember the time when we all went to Dairy Queen to get some ice cream.  And how on the way there little Tommy tripped and scrapped up his face.  Of course there were those who want to take him to the hospital. However the majority consensus was to go and get ice cream first as we could then apply it to Tom's face to keep the swelling down.  I will never forget the face of the girl taking our order. She just kept staring at Tom  with a look of shear horror.  That, of course, only added to Tom's little attitude problem. He was most likely mad as he was one of the voters for going to the hospital first. He always cries when he does not get his way.  What a baby.  So the girl keeps staring and by now Tom has hit max level.  "Why don't you take a picture? It will last longer." he yelled at her. The next thing we knew she whipped out a camera and sure enough took a picture. That is when we decided that ice cream on Tom's face might cool him down as much as take away the swelling. After we creamed Tom the DQ girl took another picture. Oh the good old days. I sure do miss them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113601112856538975?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113601112856538975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113601112856538975&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113601112856538975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113601112856538975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/12/memories.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113487092047573182</id><published>2005-12-17T20:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T19:50:51.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Inquiring minds want to know</title><content type='html'>What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113487092047573182?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113487092047573182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113487092047573182&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113487092047573182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113487092047573182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/12/inquiring-minds-want-to-know.html' title='Inquiring minds want to know'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113246583041557256</id><published>2005-11-19T22:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-20T01:02:03.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crow It's What's 4 Dinner</title><content type='html'>I will be the first to admit that at the end of last season I was ready for &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/multimedia/photo_gallery/2005/08/12/paterno/content.6.html"&gt;JoePa&lt;/a&gt; to step down as &lt;a href="http://espn.go.com/media/ncf/2001/0812/photo/a_paterno1_i.jpg"&gt;our beloved coach.&lt;/a&gt; I thought it was time for someone else to step in and see if they could right the ship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/multimedia/photo_gallery/2005/08/12/paterno/content.7.html"&gt;JoePa&lt;/a&gt; stayed and now Penn State has won their second big ten championship since joining the conference in 1993. At 10-1 the &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/multimedia/photo_gallery/2005/08/12/paterno/content.8.html"&gt;Nittany Lions&lt;/a&gt; have secured their second winning season in six years and their first BCS bid. Also with an upset win by Georgia Tech, over #3 ranked Miami, Penn State will likely move up in the polls to 4th. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this brings me to my point. I was wrong. There I said it. I listened to the media and did not look at the games. I should not have given up so easily. Sorry &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/multimedia/photo_gallery/2005/08/12/paterno/content.9.html"&gt;Joe&lt;/a&gt; stay as long as you would like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113246583041557256?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113246583041557256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113246583041557256&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113246583041557256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113246583041557256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/11/crow-its-whats-4-dinner.html' title='Crow It&apos;s What&apos;s 4 Dinner'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113073220793520554</id><published>2005-10-31T02:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T23:24:41.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The mind just doesn't work like it use to</title><content type='html'>I was going to write a post on my other blog but I could not think of a thing to write. It did not help that the TV was blaring in my ear. You could ask "why not turn down the TV?" Well I'm visiting my parents in PA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being home brings back a lot of old memories. There was the time I wanted a dog so my Uncle Billy Bob bought me a monkey. Why I have know idea why he thought a monkey would be anything close to a dog. My mom however was not as happy, or excited, as I was and would not let me keep the monkey. Then there was the time we all went on a family vacation to "The Greatest Place in the World." Turns out that my parents meant grandma's house and not Universal Studios Orlando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it was not all disappointment as there was the time my foot almost fell off and my dad put it back on using a hot glue gun. I remember his words like it was yesterday "suck it up and be a man,boy." "Real men don't cry, you baby." Of course there was lots of love to go around. One Halloween I had to go trick or treating as myself because my brothers costume cost so much that there was no money left for mine. Everyone would ask "Who in the world are you suppose to be?" They looked at me as if I was dumb, though I think the pointing and laughing was more detrimental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back I really don't recall any of this. Maybe I should focus more on posting and less on watching TV. I have a strange feeling that all of this was on a movie I saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really it all happened . I had to write that last part because my parents saw what I was writing and got mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113073220793520554?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113073220793520554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113073220793520554&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113073220793520554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113073220793520554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/10/mind-just-doesnt-work-like-it-use-to.html' title='The mind just doesn&apos;t work like it use to'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113013139406264971</id><published>2005-10-24T01:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T01:24:03.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes........</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I shake my head and say "I just don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I spent six hours looking for my dog, Spot. I walked up and down the street calling for him to come. Some of my neighbors were even nice enough to lend a hand in the search. We all gave it our best efforts as we all looked high and low. There was a man from SBC who looked as he was fooling around with the electrical wires. We even dropped a young boy down a man hole with no luck. As it started to get dark all our hope had pretty much been sucked out of us, as if we were on a sail boat in the middle of the ocean with no wind. Yes as despair was no doubt about to crush us, like an elephant sitting on a peanut. I soon realized that I did not even have a dog and if I did, surely, I would not name him Spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some famous  Spot calls:&lt;br /&gt;"Here Spotty Spot."&lt;br /&gt;"Yo, Spot, where you at."&lt;br /&gt;" Spot! Spot! It's time to come out. Everybody who's anybodies out here."&lt;br /&gt;"I have a cat that you can eat."&lt;br /&gt;"Sport here Sport"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113013139406264971?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113013139406264971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113013139406264971&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113013139406264971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113013139406264971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/10/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes........'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-113012995009626106</id><published>2005-10-24T01:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T00:59:10.100-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know Something You Don't Know</title><content type='html'>No! I'm not going to tell you. Because if I told you it would ruin the post. I thought even you could figure that out. I guess I was wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-113012995009626106?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/113012995009626106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=113012995009626106&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113012995009626106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/113012995009626106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-know-something-you-dont-know.html' title='I Know Something You Don&apos;t Know'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112924161047572849</id><published>2005-10-13T18:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T18:13:30.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Day at the Office</title><content type='html'>I was going to write a post but decided that it would be more fun to procrastinate instead. However, after further thought, I realized that would involve too much work on my part. So I decided that I would do it tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112924161047572849?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112924161047572849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112924161047572849&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112924161047572849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112924161047572849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/10/just-another-day-at-office.html' title='Just Another Day at the Office'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112906800577128916</id><published>2005-10-11T17:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T18:00:05.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sticky Situation</title><content type='html'>I once had a horse. We went everywhere together.  One day we went to the glue factory. Now we don't go anywhere together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112906800577128916?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112906800577128916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112906800577128916&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112906800577128916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112906800577128916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/10/sticky-situation.html' title='A Sticky Situation'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112649143422469986</id><published>2005-09-11T20:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:54:59.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Greatest Show on Earth</title><content type='html'>It's that time again where everyone comes together for a special cause. That's right &lt;a href="http://www.rotten.com/library/bio/entertainers/actors/keanu-reeves/"&gt;boys&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.rotten.com/library/bio/entertainers/music/wynonna-judd/"&gt;girls&lt;/a&gt; Hollywood and &lt;a href="http://www.reviewjournal.com/lvrj_home/2004/Sep-15-Wed-2004/photos/judges.jpg"&gt;the music industry&lt;/a&gt; are once again joining &lt;a href="http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/twentieth_century_fox/return_of_the_jedi/_group_photos/david_prowse3.jpg"&gt;forces&lt;/a&gt; to raise monies for the &lt;a href="http://www.rotten.com/library/bio/religion/jesse-jackson/"&gt;underprivileged&lt;/a&gt;, namely, &lt;a href="http://www.frangipani.info/blog/archives/dailylifecity/shibuya%20eki%20homeless-thumb.jpg"&gt;me&lt;/a&gt;. The show will held on Saturday, September 31, 2005. It will be held in seventy-five different &lt;a href="http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail40.html"&gt;locations&lt;/a&gt; around the world. If you can not get out to one of the designated locations then you can catch the live broadcast on pay-per view. All the hottest artists will be there to perform all their great hit singles. There will also be the not so hottest artists to perform their hit single single. Comedians will be there by the &lt;a href="http://www.vniles.com/images/images/Garbage%20Truck.jpg"&gt;truck&lt;/a&gt; loads. Telling their same old tired jokes. However we have made it interesting by making them suck on &lt;a href="http://www.thechipmunks.com/"&gt;helium&lt;/a&gt; as they the them. Here is a list of some of the &lt;a href="http://www.mugshots.org/misc/bert.html"&gt;celebrities&lt;/a&gt; in attendance:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Dye &lt;a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/AMAZING-ALL-LACE-HAIR-REPLACEMENT-Toupee-SINATRA_W0QQitemZ6797205039QQcategoryZ60188QQtcZphotoQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem#ebayphotohosting"&gt;Piece&lt;/a&gt;:      Lets Get it Parted&lt;br /&gt;Robert Dillon: Blowin' in a Straw; Tornado; Mr. Tangerine Man; Ringin' the Doorbell to the Big House in the Sky&lt;br /&gt;Staid:                   Trippin'; Changing Colors; Not Cooked; &lt;a href="http://www.tasteyoulove.com/"&gt;I Can't Believe It's Not Butter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Green Day:                                            Wake Me Up When September Ends&lt;br /&gt;Irish Day: Weave Making 4 &lt;a href="http://www.corrosion-doctors.org/Implants/images/piercing2.jpg"&gt;Weirdos&lt;/a&gt;; The Hours in a Day(Get Ridiculous); When I Become a Clown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jwave.vt.edu/crcd/archives/StProjs98/looveren/farkas1/nickel.jpg"&gt;Jefferson's Home&lt;/a&gt;:   The Workin's of My Brain; More Than One &lt;a href="http://www.rotten.com/library/bio/entertainers/music/michael-jackson/michael-jackson-mugshot.jpg"&gt;Michael Jackson&lt;/a&gt;; Not This Time or the Next; Maybe Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;James Eats Worms:  The Mean; Where You Live; A Night on the Pearl Street Bridge; My West; Sugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The list goes &lt;a href="http://danielboonecountry.com/images/sanders.jpg"&gt;on&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.broomeman.com/images/gore.jpg"&gt;on&lt;/a&gt; and on, well I think you get the point. Also live from &lt;a href="http://www.shipbrook.com/jeff/graphics/NERDS.jpg"&gt;Strongbadia&lt;/a&gt; we have  the man himself. Yes, he will also be &lt;a href="http://img148.exs.cx/img148/801/inspire6ct.png"&gt;answering your emails&lt;/a&gt;.   So don't miss out on  your chance to &lt;a href="http://www.thesmokinggun.com/graphics/packageart/mugshots/noltemug.jpg"&gt;party like crazy&lt;/a&gt;.  Don't worry &lt;a href="http://www.konary.com/alec/images/centera.jpg"&gt;THING1&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.oprahwinfrey.de/Bilder/Bilder/Tom%20Cruise_jpg.jpg"&gt;THING2&lt;/a&gt; are banned from showing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112649143422469986?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112649143422469986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112649143422469986&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112649143422469986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112649143422469986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/09/greatest-show-on-earth.html' title='The Greatest Show on Earth'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112597113567669329</id><published>2005-09-05T21:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T21:45:36.903-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Thughts</title><content type='html'>If you are ever skydiving and you parachute does not open. Don’t panic. Just relax and&lt;br /&gt;enjoy the view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I start digging a hole will I really reach China?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve always wanted to ride in a submarine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wanted to see a bottomless well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that my favorite football play is the Hail Mary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was little I wanted to be an astronaut. I thought that it would be cool to go as far&lt;br /&gt;out as Pluto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112597113567669329?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112597113567669329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112597113567669329&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112597113567669329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112597113567669329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/09/deep-thughts.html' title='Deep Thughts'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112588436380912290</id><published>2005-09-04T21:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-04T21:39:23.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The voices through the walls</title><content type='html'>The voices in my head are getting louder and louder.  I wish they would stop.  They are so random it's like there is a bunch of people having six different conversations. "SHUT UP!" I scream from the top of my lungs.  Finally silence.  "What's wrong?" comes a voice from the living room.  Turns out there are people in my living room have conversations with one another.  I guess there was not voices in my head.  Oh well go figure everytime that I think I'm going crazy I'm really not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112588436380912290?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112588436380912290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112588436380912290&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112588436380912290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112588436380912290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/09/voices-through-walls.html' title='The voices through the walls'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112552773278504221</id><published>2005-08-31T17:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T01:15:10.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Questions</title><content type='html'>If you're in a three legged race. Is it cheating to have a partner with only one leg?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are the colors for checkers black and red? Why couldn't they be purple with pink polka dots and orange with teal stripes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are they called greenhouses when they are neither green nor a house?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112552773278504221?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112552773278504221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112552773278504221&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112552773278504221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112552773278504221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/08/random-questions.html' title='Random Questions'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16041755.post-112547140046804572</id><published>2005-08-31T02:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T02:56:40.470-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Waz UP?</title><content type='html'>Hello out there. I am Tomar the Tomar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/16041755-112547140046804572?l=dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/feeds/112547140046804572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16041755&amp;postID=112547140046804572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112547140046804572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16041755/posts/default/112547140046804572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dysfunctionalscarecrow.blogspot.com/2005/08/waz-up.html' title='Waz UP?'/><author><name>Brian J Anderson</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
