A wealthy man was having an affair with an Italian woman for several months. One night, during one of their rendezvous, she confided in him that she was pregnant. Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his marriage, he paid her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18. She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born. To keep it discreet, he told her simply to mail him a post card, and write "Spaghetti" on the back. He would then arrange for child support payments to begin.

One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife. "Honey," she said, "you received a very strange post card today."

"Oh, just give it to me and I'll explain it" he said.

The wife obeyed, and watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted.

On the card was written: "Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. Two with meatballs, one without."

GO PATS!

Wife asks me if a dress she wasa trying on made her look fat
I said I guess it depends
She said depends on what
I said how much it costs
She said $1300
I said mooo

In my opinion...it's waaaaaayyyy too late.

I'd rather Google than Donnie D.

I'm also switching as much email traffic away from the googs as possible.

Day-Night testing for the 24.

I'm going to make a whole hearted effort to eat more carbs

Quote from: koko64 on Yesterday at 01:13:40 AMTough fella. He was pretty busted up. Those injuries would have been bad just to ride a street bike on tarmac let alone the Dakar.

Absolutely. It's difficult to just move around with a bad collarbone break, much less do what he did. Respect 🫡

I would not want to be that intimate with either of them.  Even more so Google. 

afternoon

Got a new computer for work.  My laptop has been stellar for five years but it's a *touch* out of date.  Got a desktop.  So far, the hardware is great.

However, forgive the rant:
Microsoft sucks & OneDrive can blow me.   

I'll be at this for maybe a week.
F*ck.  Oh well, once every five years ain't bad.