"Master of Debates,Obama Lacks Testosterone ...‏" 'Obama Da Dog'

Testosterone was definitely lacking in the
recent Presidential debate. Next debate we recommend
The President sleep alone the night before the debate.
Football players, baseball players and Prize fighters stay
away from their wives and girlfriend's the night before
any big game or fight to save the Testosterone for
when it's needed most...

President Obama was clearly lacking in his masterful debate skills of years past in  the October 3, 2012 presidential debate with Mitt Romney.

President Obama is known as a great debater and he just crashed seeming not interested and lacking emotion. They say if you turned the sound off during the debate, the facial expressions and body language alone won it for Mitt Romney. Body language and expressions is 90% of winning an audience.

It was also the presidents 20th wedding anniversary that night  and folks are saying that  it's quite possible the Obama's celebrated  with some marital relations before the debate thus mellowing him and dropping his testosterone level.

Professional football  and baseball players along with prize fighters and other male athletes are many times told the night before the big game, or big fight to stay away from your wives and girlfriend, do not have sex because it can relax  you too much.

For the next debates, I recommend the President  stay in  a separate room from Michelle  the night before the debate and to come full of testosterone  and some good zingers. 

 If all else fails Viagra and Androgel could  bring a win for the Democrats to the next debate.

 Hana Hou, (Encore)  Shared from Facebook...

"FALL HAS OFFICIALLY ARRIVED..." 'Judith Whitehead' (Inspiration Monday)

Guest-blogger Judy Whitehead is back talking about the beauty of
Fall on the east coast of the United states. Judy lives in Amherst N.Y.
 and has worked in the medical profession for over 30 years...

photo courtesy of Judith Whitehead

FALL HAS OFFICIALLY ARRIVED


WHEN THE MORNINGS ARE IN THE 50’S AND THE NIGHTS DROP DOWN INTO THE 40’S…YOU KNOW THAT FALL HAS ARRIVED FOR SURE.

 No longer are the flowers blooming; the leaves are all changing now and falling to the ground. There is a certain beauty to fall with all its brilliant colors as the life drains from the sap in the trees and one last burst of color surrounds us.

 It is a photographers delight to take a drive into the country as we did this last week. We spent the day taking pictures hoping to get the most perfect one for our collection.

The days still are sunny but at night  dampness surrounds us and the furnace has to be put on to take that chill out of the air.

It is also count down time as my son will be getting married in 5 short quick weeks; last minute things are being arranged and checked off and now the wedding can take place since my outfit is complete to wear to their wedding, lol. My younger son is still enjoying 100 degree days on the other end of the united States and still able to wear flip flops. Better pack some warm clothes for next months event.

Hana Hou, (Encore)  Shared from Facebook...

"A Daughter, A Father, And a Dog... 'Chester "Unc" Lau' (Source)

Dakinetalk's good friend Chester "Unc" Lau 
 a retired former U.S. Army Master Sergeant 
and original Hawai'i Five-O cinematographer
living the naturist lifestyle on the island of Oahu. Unc 
shares a heart-warming story about man's best friend...
This is a keeper... Enjoy!

A Daughter, A Father, And a Dog - A true story by Catherine Moore

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?"

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.."

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my
thoughts..... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of
rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him
outside alone, straining to lift it.. He became irritable whenever
anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.

At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone..

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.

Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.

Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.."

I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had proved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog..

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a
questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my
decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the
front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch... "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!"

Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad ?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church.. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.

And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."

"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter .
...his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Hana Hou, (Encore)  Shared from Facebook...

"Did Obama throw the debate..?" 'James "Kimo" Rosen

Maybe just maybe President Obama threw the debate
because on  the day following all the News stations
 are running Romney's lies, and there were many.

Aloha, Check out my opinion article in the October 9, 2012 edition of the  Kaua'i Garden Island News,"Did Obama throw the competition?" (same as this blog)
http://thegardenisland.com/news/opinion/mailbag/letters-for-tuesday-oct/article_41300354-11ec-11e2-8f07-0019bb2963f4.html

Is it possible that President Obama purposely let Mitt Romney win the first presidential debate of 2012? Did Obama throw the competition?

For those familiar with reality TV  many times  a competitor will throw a competition because sometimes winning has more negative consequences  because all focus is on the winner, and when the winner is telling lie after lie and it's being repeated all over the media the aftermath could be devastating.

Maybe just maybe President Obama threw the debate because on  the day following all the News stations are running Romney's lies, and there were many.

Although I believe the President did not  win the debate, we all knew he could have and probably should have. Did he throw the debate on purpose?

I believe the aftermath of all the News station reporting all the inaccuracies and lies that Romney spouted will win the President more votes.

 Could this be  a strategy by a genius  chess type  mind 10 steps ahead of everyone with a huge IQ or did Obama really mess up?

After sleeping on this I believe Obama threw the debate, with two more debates to come he will come out dancing  like a prize fighter on Prozac.

Pretty gusty move Mr. President, I hope it works...

Aloha, Check out my opinion article in the October 9, 2012 edition of the  Kaua'i Garden Island News,"Did Obama throw the competition?" (same as this blog)
http://thegardenisland.com/news/opinion/mailbag/letters-for-tuesday-oct/article_41300354-11ec-11e2-8f07-0019bb2963f4.html


Please check out the enclosed Youtube and please comment!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCw-oWp1wf8

Israeli leaders meet Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in NYC.

This video is banned for broadcast on News Networks in USA, Israel and Europe. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad that Israel and US does not want you to see. Jewish leaders and prominent businessmen Greet Ahmadinejad

 Hana Hou, (Encore)   Shared from Facebook...

"What's my fortune..?" 'Michael A. Herr' (Aloha Friday)

Renowned author Michael Herr is back guest-blogging on this awesome Aloha Friday talking about fortune cookies, Las Vegas and more....   Make sure and check out Michael's website at; http://www.michaelherr.com/

ALOHA FRIDAY-"No Work 'Til Monday" 

What's my fortune ?



Aloha folks.

I've never visited a fortuneteller with a crystal ball. When I was in New Orleans, I didn't sit down in Jackson Square with a tarot card reader. No one has ever traced the lines in the palm of my hand or suspended a pendulum over that same palm and told me what was going to happen in my life; who I was destined to meet and fall in love with or what path I would take in life.

Likewise I haven't thrown yarrow stalks, dissected a chicken or other animal to read its entrails or liver. I haven't cast bones or stones. I haven't looked into tea leaves (mostly I drink coffee anyway).

I guess I just don't believe anyone has the power to tell me how my life is going to run its course. Other than a judge who would be able to tell me where I might spend the next ten-to-twenty years if I screwed up.

No, I don't believe in all that hokum.
So . . . why when I get up each morning do I check my horoscope in the daily paper? Do I really believe that gaseous bodies drifting through the cosmos millions of light-years away really have any influence on what kind of a day I'm going to have?
When I pick up my weekly order of Chinese takeout; why do I check to make sure they've included the fortune cookies? Those fortune cookies which I open with eagerness. I have had three separate cookies yield a fortune which says, "You have a charming way with words and should write a book." I've written/published eight books. So it's nice to see that the fortune cookies back me up on this.

My latest fortune cookie says, "You will soon have the opportunity to improve your finances." My wife and I are planning a trip to Las Vegas. Does this cookie urge us to go . . . or to stay home? Which way will be more like to "improve" my finances?
I guess I pick and choose among the various types of hokum in order to find the ones I like.

And since it's mostly harmless, I'll continue to read my daily horoscope and open my fortune cookies.
But I still don't know whether or not I should go to Las Vegas.
See you again, unless my horoscope says I should avoid contact with all strangers.
　Hana Hou, (Encore) Shared from Facebook...

 check out Michael's website at http://www.michaelherr.com/ 

The opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed by the various authors and forum participants on this blog site do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints of the Publisher of Dakinetalk the blog, but they could

"Delta Flight '15' on 09-11-01..." 'Chester "Unc" Lau (Source)



Master Sgt. Chester Lau, aka "Unc" is a retired cinematographer 
living his naturist  twilight years on the island of Oahu.
"Unc" shares a lesson about  Good things that came from a tragic situation  Enjoy...  ;D)

Delta Flight 15 on 9-11-01  

TRUE STORY:
http://www.snopes.com/rumors/gander.asp

This is interesting - a little long, but certainly worth the time to read to the end!
Delta Flight 15 on 9-11-01

From a retired Delta Employee.
An interesting story about one flight during September 11th.
Amazing Story of Delta Flight 15
Written by a flight attendant and sourced to Dakinetalk by Chester "Unc" Lau.

"On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, we were about 5 hours out of Frankfurt, flying over the North Atlantic . All of a sudden the curtains parted and I was told to go to the cockpit, immediately, to see the captain. As soon as I got there I noticed that the crew had that "All Business" look on their faces. The captain handed me a printed message. It was from Delta's main office in Atlanta and simply read, "All airways over the Continental United States are closed to commercial air traffic. Land ASAP at the nearest airport. Advise your destination."

No one said a word about what this could mean. We knew it was a serious situation and we needed to find Terra firma quickly. The captain determined that the nearest airport was 400 miles behind us in Gander , Newfoundland. He requested approval for a route change from the Canadian traffic controller and approval was granted immediately--no questions asked. We found out later, of course, why there was no hesitation in approving our request.

While the flight crew prepared the airplane for landing, another message arrived from Atlanta telling us about some terrorist activity in the New York area. A few minutes later word came in about the hijackings.

We decided to LIE to the passengers while we were still in the air. We told them the plane had a simple instrument problem and that we needed to land at the nearest airport in Gander , New Foundland to have it checked out.

We promised to give more information after landing in Gander . There was much grumbling among the passengers, but that's nothing new! Forty minutes later, we landed in Gander . Local time at Gander was 12:30 PM! . . .. that's 11:00 AM EST.

There were already about 20 other airplanes on the ground from all over the world that had taken this detour on their way to the U.S. After we parked on the ramp, the captain made the following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, you must be wondering if all these airplanes around us have the same instrument problem as we have. The reality is that we are here for another reason." Then he went on to explain the little bit we knew about the situation in the U.S. There were loud gasps and stares of disbelief. The captain informed passengers that Ground control in Gander told us to stay put.

The Canadian Government was in charge of our situation and no one was allowed to get off the aircraft. No one on the ground was allowed to come near any of the aircraft. Only airport police would come around periodically, look us over and go on to the next airplane. In the next hour or so more planes landed and Gander ended up with 53 airplanes from all over the world, 27 of which were U.S. commercial jets.

Meanwhile, bits of news started to come in over the aircraft radio and for the first time we learned that airplanes wer e flown into the World Trade Center in New York and into the Pentagon in DC. People were trying to use their cell phones, but were unable to connect due to a different cell system in Canada . Some did get through, but were only able to get to the Canadian operator who would tell them that the lines to the U.S. were either blocked or jammed.

Sometime in the evening the news filtered to us that the World Trade Center buildings had collapsed and that a fourth hijacking had resulted in a crash. By now the passengers were emotionally and physically exhausted, not to mention frightened, but everyone stayed amazingly calm. We had only to look out the window at the 52 other stranded aircraft to realize that we were not the only ones in this predicament.

We had been told earlier that they would be allowing people off the planes one plane at a time. At 6 PM, Gander airport told us that our turn to deplane would be 11 am the next morning. Passengers were not happy, but they simply resigned themselves to this news without much noise and started to prepare themselves to spend the night on the airplane.

Gander had promised us medical attention, if needed, water, and lavatory servicing. And they were true to their word. Fortunately we had no medical situations to worry about. We did have a young lady who was 33 weeks into her pregnancy. We took REALLY good care of her. The night passed without incident despite the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

About 10:30 on the morning of the 12th a convoy of school buses showed up. We got off the plane and were taken to the terminal where we went through Immigration and Customs and then had to register with the Red Cross.

After that we (the crew) were separated from the passengers and were taken in vans to a small hotel. We had no idea where our passengers were going. We learned from the Red Cross that the town of Gander has a population of 10,400 people and they had about 10,500 passengers to take care of from all the airplanes that were forced into Gander ! We were told to just relax at the hotel and we would be contacted when the U.S. airports opened again, but not to expect that call for a while.

We found out the total scope of the terror back home only after getting to our hotel and turning on the TV . . . 24 hours after it all started.

Meanwhile, we had lots of time on our hands and found that the people of Gander were extremely friendly. They started calling us the "plane people." We enjoyed their hospitality, explored the town of Gander and ended up having a pretty good time.

Two days later, we got that call and were taken back to the Gander airport. Back on the plane, we were reunited with the passengers and found out what they had been doing for the past two days. What we found out was incredible.

Gander and all the surrounding communities (within about a 75 Kilometer radius) had closed all high schools, meeting halls, lodges, and any other large gathering places. They converted all these facilities to mass lodging areas for all the stranded travelers. Some had cots set up, some had mats with sleeping bags and pillows set up. ALL high school students were required to volunteer their time to take care of the "guests." Our 218 passengers ended up in a town called Lewisporte, about 45 kilometers from Gander where they were put up in a high school. If any women wanted to be in a women-only facility, that was arranged. Families were kept together. All the elderly passengers were taken to private homes.

Remember that young pregnant lady? She was put up in a private home right across the street from a 24-hour Urgent Care facility. There was a dentist on call and both male and female nurses remained with the crowd for the duration.

Phone calls and e-mails to the U.S. and around the world were available to everyone once a day. During the day, passengers were offered "Excursion" trips. Some people went on boat cruises of the lakes and harbors. Some went for hikes in the local forests. Local bakeries stayed open to make fresh bread for the guests. Food was prepared by all the residents and brought to the schools. People were driven to restaurants of their choice and offered wonderful meals. Everyone was given tokens for local laundry mats to wash their clothes, since luggage was still on the aircraft. In other words, every single need was met for those stranded travelers.

Passengers were crying while telling us these stories. Finally, when they were told that U.S. airports had reopened, they were delivered to the airport right on time and without a single passenger missing or late. The local Red Cross had all the information about the whereabouts of each and every passenger and knew which plane they needed to be on and when all the planes were leaving. They coordinated everything beautifully. It was absolutely incredible.

When passengers came on board, it was like they had been on a cruise. Everyone knew each other by name. They were swapping stories of their stay, impressing each other with who had the better time. Our flight back to Atlanta looked like a chartered party flight. The crew just stayed out of their way. It was mind-boggling. Passengers had totally bonded and were calling each other by their first names, exchanging phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses.

And then a very unusual thing happened. One of our passengers approached me and asked if he could make an announcement over the PA system. We never, ever allow that.. But this time was different. I said "of course" and handed him the mike. He picked up the PA and reminded everyone about what they had just gone through in the last few days. He reminded them of the hospitality they had received at the hands of total strangers. He continued by saying that he would like to do something in return for the good folks of Lewisporte.

He said he was going to set up a Trust Fund under the name of DELTA 15 (our flight number). The purpose of the trust fund is to provide college scholarships for the high school students of Gander - Lewisporte. He asked for donations of any amount from his fellow travelers. When the paper with donations got back to us with the amounts, names, phone numbers and addresses, the total was for more than 14,000 dollars!

The gentleman, a MD from Virginia , promised to match the donations and to start the administrative work on the scholarship. He also said that he would forward this proposal to Delta Corporate and ask them to donate as well.

I just wanted to share this story because we need good stories right now. It gives me a little bit of hope to know that some people in a far away place were kind to some strangers who literally dropped in on them. It reminds me how much good there is in the world."

This trust fund is now at more than $1.5 million and has assisted 134 students in college education.

Hana Hou, (Encore)  Shared from Facebook...



Hana Hou #2... The first 2012 Presidential debate....

Romney won the debate. My guy lost. Just like when your football team loses it hurts. Obama needed to throw a punch and mention the 47 percenters and woman's rights. Romney came out swinging about green jobs although that was never a question the debate. I hate to say it, but we have a race and close race. I am a football fan and even when my team loses I still appreciate a good football game, good debate Governor Romney. James "Kimo" Rosen

"SEX..!" 'Bettejo Dux' (Classic Wednesday)

Guest-blogger Bettejo Dux is one of Kauai's most delightful  people, she has lived on the cosmic island of Kaua'i for over 40 years... She is an animal lover, people lover and enjoys life to the fullest. Today she talks  about a favorite subject of most people reading this blog," SEX!" Enjoy..!   www.bettejodux.com

SEX

It’s always a good subject. Sex sells. It’s also a handy-dandy way to control people. If you can control someone’s sex life you've really got that someone by the short hairs. That’s one of those very obvious elephants in the parlor things that all the rank and file religious fundamentalist can’t see, won’t see, and scream bloody murder and froth at the mouth about when someone else dares see it for them.
“There it is,”  the someone else who sees the beast points it out.

“No. No. A thousand times no. It’s in the bible. Writ by god by god. Put it there to save our souls, get us safely off to heaven and out of hell, protect our children…” and who knows what all else.

However, if you look the word ‘sex’ up in the Bible it doesn't even appear. But Ravish does. Seven times (7x’s). And when perusing such sites one finds stuff like this, “Everyone that is found shall be thrust through and all and every one that is joined unto to them shall fall by the sword. Their children shall be dashed to pieces before their eyes, their houses shall be spoiled; and their wives ravished.” That’s an order. Neat, huh? You won’t find any of that in Corliss Lamont’s Philosophy of Humanism or Hugh Hefner’s Century of  Sex. In Heff’s book, though,  you’ll see a lot of  nude babes. Hunks, too.

Once when I asked a stern-eyed young evangelist to explain this horror to me he responded, “Well they were all bad and you certainly wouldn't want them to breed. To continue living. And anyhow it’s in the book. God said.”
“But you don’t do that anymore?”
“Of course not.”
“Well that’s good ’cause it sounds like genocide to me,” I shook my head. “Then again Hitler was a Christian. Do you think maybe he was just following god’s orders?”
The stern-eyed evangelist eyes went blank, he swallowed, thumped his book  and said in deep evangelical tones, “God is love…”

But I digress. Sex. it’s sinful. Until you pay a priest, a rabbi, somebody or other, to pour water on your head or something then it’s sort of anything goes as long as the end result is babies. Nobody seems to know where that notion came from either and we can back track for a moment  to  the ‘ravish all the wives’ command.  Guess if they get pregnant from the ravishment their kids would only be half bad? Ah so! That explains it. No wonder gentlemen and lady Christians are so het up about nudity and sex, which is all over the Garden island Forum today. They’re scared to death that without word from god about sex being a sin and nudity with it that bad half of themselves might take over?

Remember  Helen my witness friend? She confided in me once as to how lucky she was to have a large walk in closet where she dressed and undressed without her husband seeing her. She then got that stern-eyed lady witness look and said,”But I used to catch him peeking.”
Oh, no god in heaven, thank you Corliss. Thank you Heff.

 Hana Hou, (Encore)  Shared from Facebook...

Bettejo  also  publishes her own blog column.
You can check it out at ;  http://www.bettejo.wordpress.com .   Besides her blog she recently published and authored the humorous fiction book, "The Scam," check it out at(www.bettejodux.com) or  on Amazon.

http://www.bettejodux.com/