tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75068573952836201322011-11-27T18:25:33.160-05:00Moral and Refined, Unique and Eccentric Entertainment for Ladies and Gentlemen of All Ages.Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.comBlogger611100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-37199124417262248062009-07-26T21:10:00.005-04:002009-07-29T17:19:16.139-04:00<script type="text/javascript"><br />var skin = {};<br />skin['BORDER_COLOR'] = '#cccccc';<br />skin['ENDCAP_BG_COLOR'] = '#cccccc';<br />skin['ENDCAP_TEXT_COLOR'] = '#333333';<br />skin['ENDCAP_LINK_COLOR'] = '#cc0000';<br />skin['ALTERNATE_BG_COLOR'] = '#ffffff';<br />skin['CONTENT_BG_COLOR'] = '#ffffff';<br />skin['CONTENT_LINK_COLOR'] = '#cc9933';<br />skin['CONTENT_TEXT_COLOR'] = '#333333';<br />skin['CONTENT_SECONDARY_LINK_COLOR'] = '#990000';<br />skin['CONTENT_SECONDARY_TEXT_COLOR'] = '#666666';<br />skin['CONTENT_HEADLINE_COLOR'] = '#333333';<br />skin['NUMBER_ROWS'] = '4';<br />google.friendconnect.container.setParentUrl('/' /* location of rpc_relay.html and canvas.html */);<br />google.friendconnect.container.renderMembersGadget(<br /> { id: 'div-8807305676413128690',<br /> site: '10681038015346826333' },<br /> skin);<br /></script><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-3719912441726224806?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-86079063160574181282009-07-05T11:21:00.047-04:002009-07-29T17:09:16.115-04:00<p align="center"></p><p align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358875561953241890" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sl6M7lm-qyI/AAAAAAAAATw/1gDe-Fucoug/s400/Count+Sneaky+at+desk+%232.jpg" /></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8607906316057418128?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-1852241693414724432009-07-04T15:00:00.007-04:002009-07-04T15:23:18.480-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sk-n1UxB7JI/AAAAAAAAATA/gwx0d-N9YGY/s1600-h/Ja.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 212px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354683016516070546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sk-n1UxB7JI/AAAAAAAAATA/gwx0d-N9YGY/s400/Ja.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sk-naZzUSOI/AAAAAAAAAS4/qwjimG8Bfo0/s1600-h/Ja.jpg"></a><div align="center"><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">AS LITTLE BOYS</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">SEE </span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>LITTLE</strong></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong> GIRLS...</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div></span><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">They're made of bile,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;">And everything vile.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">With little dresses, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And long tresses,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">****</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Topped off with a smile,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Wicked as a country mile!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky</em></span></div><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-185224169341472443?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-16582531539944082542009-06-30T21:56:00.013-04:002009-07-24T16:15:53.701-04:00<div align="left"><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkrDzXu1BnI/AAAAAAAAASg/_kCgnhcKwK8/s1600-h/Bar+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 16px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353306394394429042" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkrDzXu1BnI/AAAAAAAAASg/_kCgnhcKwK8/s400/Bar+1.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> <strong>OFFICE MOMENTS...</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">My cup runneth over...so does my desk!<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">You got your troubles, I got mine...Now shut up</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">and listen to mine!<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I can dog-paddle 'til Friday!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Tell me about it...I got my boots on!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">The marriage didn't work because I'm digital</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">and she's analogue.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">When I lost my last job before this one, I realized</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">the value of little things...my job, my salary,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">my benefits...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Actually, most of my quality time is spent</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">in Wal-Mart...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Welcome to my Abyss...let's just sit here and stare<br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">into it for a few minutes.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Welcome to my cage. You rattled?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:100%;">No, Jackson, don't look at as being "fired"... You're<br /></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:100%;">being "negatively hired!"</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:100%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1658253153994408254?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-19485617146028513992009-06-26T12:20:00.007-04:002009-07-01T11:58:11.320-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkT2QM_OkMI/AAAAAAAAASY/yAeumVFmDrc/s1600-h/Pince+-nez.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351673015447752898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkT2QM_OkMI/AAAAAAAAASY/yAeumVFmDrc/s400/Pince+-nez.jpg" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> THOUGHTS FOR YOUR PENNY...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></strong></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">When I hear life is a "Journey" one more time...</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm going to demand I see your ticket!</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My inner voice is bringing out my need for</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">a hearing aid.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Life is like, "I just can't believe I did that!"</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I never quiet rise to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">occasion</span> when I</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">can crawl under it.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">When my coat-of-arms dropped off the wall,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I was crest-fallen.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I wasn't born yesterday...I was born in the last </span><span style="font-size:100%;">century</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My family sold me to some gypsies when I was three.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">It worked until they demanded a refund.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1948561714602851399?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-32979044535618259172009-06-26T10:30:00.002-04:002009-06-26T10:39:18.036-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkTcr3WWFdI/AAAAAAAAAR4/dibanrM1-B4/s1600-h/Doc.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351644903373149650" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkTcr3WWFdI/AAAAAAAAAR4/dibanrM1-B4/s400/Doc.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><p align="right"></p><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;">Forgive my hearing loss.</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;">I just got back from</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;">two weeks of </span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;">Banjo Camp!</span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="right"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div><p><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </p><p> </p><br /><br /><p align="right"></p><br /><br /><p align="right"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkTcMclnWoI/AAAAAAAAARw/EmXYPA8xpAk/s1600-h/Doc.jpg"></a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-3297904453561825917?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-81118503090003772972009-06-22T18:49:00.009-04:002009-06-22T19:36:55.051-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkALP7OgbkI/AAAAAAAAARQ/i9QiAf9e-TI/s1600-h/Dia.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 226px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350288725540630082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkALP7OgbkI/AAAAAAAAARQ/i9QiAf9e-TI/s400/Dia.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SkAKzo1UYkI/AAAAAAAAARI/pgsI4-irrTA/s1600-h/girl.jpg"></a><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">PARTY TIME...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Senator Dipp was a conservative backer,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">A party whip and talleywhacker.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">He kept them in line,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">And made them dine,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">On an oyster and a cracker.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8111850309000377297?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-61100864212576783542009-06-21T18:53:00.011-04:002009-06-21T21:18:44.421-04:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj7VzP6aGdI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/mfa1KGyoHxo/s1600-h/Lady+with+curls.jpg"></a><div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj7ZYRtIjQI/AAAAAAAAARA/Qxc9lZZkLPY/s1600-h/Girls+Head.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349952418455522562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj7ZYRtIjQI/AAAAAAAAARA/Qxc9lZZkLPY/s320/Girls+Head.jpg" /></a> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">A man named Chad arranged a tryst,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;">With a lady who had never been kist.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;">She resisted his advances,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;">Which reduced her chances,</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;">Of ever living in sweet marital blyst.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6110086421257678354?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-34470170080642634542009-06-21T18:37:00.003-04:002009-06-21T18:49:58.323-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj621l9UDrI/AAAAAAAAAQo/J2sHoNObsr0/s1600-h/Sailing.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349914439201328818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj621l9UDrI/AAAAAAAAAQo/J2sHoNObsr0/s400/Sailing.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>SERENADE<br /></strong></span><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Sailing on a cappucino sea,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">In a lovely chocolate mocha ship.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Drop anchor in Cocoa Bay,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Put in a straw for a long sweet sip,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And drink your troubles away.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-3447017008064263454?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-25459478106143563422009-06-20T19:59:00.002-04:002009-06-20T20:15:43.127-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj14mPFOwMI/AAAAAAAAAQg/AiCZZCLhxTI/s1600-h/Couple+on+porch.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349564530664849602" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj14mPFOwMI/AAAAAAAAAQg/AiCZZCLhxTI/s400/Couple+on+porch.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;">While visiting in Argentina,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">A fellow bought a concertina.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">He played it well,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">But, his wife said, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"You shoulda bought a vacuum cleaner!"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky<br /></span></em></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2545947810614356342?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-68642739187120509082009-06-20T19:39:00.003-04:002009-06-20T19:58:28.592-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj107XZDsfI/AAAAAAAAAQY/v4_XxCdAurE/s1600-h/Kiss.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 379px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349560495626236402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj107XZDsfI/AAAAAAAAAQY/v4_XxCdAurE/s400/Kiss.jpg" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">GLAMOR<br /></span></strong><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">There was a lady named Druscilla,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Of glamor she had only a scintilla,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">But, she made up her mind,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Put her dreams behind, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">and settled for plain vanilla.</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6864273918712050908?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-67072638881734754882009-06-20T18:09:00.003-04:002009-06-20T19:35:36.579-04:00<p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj1exHX44MI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sljQCbrdtws/s1600-h/Little+boys+and+little+girls.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 391px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349536130271862978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sj1exHX44MI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/sljQCbrdtws/s400/Little+boys+and+little+girls.jpg" /></a></p><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">AS LITTLE GIRLS SEE LITTLE BOYS</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">They're made vicious,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And totally malicious,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">With nasty tongues,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And very big lungs,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Topped off with a grin,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Wicked as any 'ol sin.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky<strong></strong></em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6707263888173475488?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-14572568929936729022009-06-13T16:14:00.005-04:002009-06-13T16:59:07.778-04:00<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SjQJC0RqTbI/AAAAAAAAAQI/7uua1JkVwig/s1600-h/Senior+moments.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 36px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346908601592729010" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SjQJC0RqTbI/AAAAAAAAAQI/7uua1JkVwig/s400/Senior+moments.jpg" /></a><br />"Stop yelling, 'DAMAGE REPORT!', <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every time</span> the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">grand kids</span> leave!"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"Of course it's not your size, Maude. They don't make your size!"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"You're down to your last marbles, Earl. Don't push it!"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"It's fat-free, no <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">cholesterol</span>, and no calories. Don't ask what it is!"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"My daddy says that when he was a boy, you were a young man.</div><div align="center">Is that true, Grandpa?"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"Same old same old, Earl. But, I think you will be intrigued</div><div align="center">by its piquant bouquet and slightly fruity taste!"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"I've done the big five oh! I've done the big six oh! Now, I'm working </div><div align="center">on the big OH NO!</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"Dinner will be ready shortly. There's just enough time to mow</div><div align="center">the lawn; trim the hedges; carry out the trash; and fix that leaky faucet."</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">"No, Maude, I am not going to stop and ask for directions...what</div><div align="center">difference does it make WHERE we're going!"</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1457256892993672902?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-62781034646261401022009-06-06T16:09:00.009-04:002009-06-08T10:20:25.365-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SirNlfmRbDI/AAAAAAAAAPw/HKfjr34i-1I/s1600-h/Author.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 384px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344309951849393202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SirNlfmRbDI/AAAAAAAAAPw/HKfjr34i-1I/s400/Author.jpg" /></a> <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">COUNT SNEAKY'S RUMINATIONS...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">1. I make it a rule never to boldly go where no man has gone </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">before.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">*** </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">2. Funny, I don't remember collecting $2oo as I went past go</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">3. Every day is a new opportunity to screw things up.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">4. Life IS worth living! In fact, that's the only way it can be done!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">5. If your life resembles a garbage dump, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">just think of it as an environmentally-sound landfill.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">6. I had a kit and caboodle...until I misplaced the caboodle.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">7. Fortunately, growing up has its own compensations,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">although I can't think of any.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">8. Thanks to Prozac my head is in a better place where</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">it can't do any harm.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">9. If opportunity knocks, it's probably selling something.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">10. Nobody said life was fair or easy, but it comes</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">with a lifetime guarantee.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">*** </span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6278103464626140102?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-87858523258552361902009-06-03T17:26:00.008-04:002009-06-03T19:06:56.736-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sib2nHCnQeI/AAAAAAAAAPY/5Jrju-nFEXg/s1600-h/Steam+trolley.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343229159687012834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sib2nHCnQeI/AAAAAAAAAPY/5Jrju-nFEXg/s400/Steam+trolley.jpg" /></a> <div></div><div></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">FOR THE CHILDREN...</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>TRAIN TO TOOKY-DOO<br /></strong></span><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Let's drive the train to Tookey-Doo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'll open it up and see what it can do!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Now we're rolling up to five miles per.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Just enough to feel the engine purr!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Up to ten, gotta lot of coal in the bin,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">The fireman shovels away with a grin!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Now we are rolling up to past twenty,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">And we still have a head of steam aplenty!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Push the levers and pull the throttle,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Take a drink from the water bottle!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Oh! Wow!...We're up to thirty-five,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Don,t it make you just feel alive!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Pull the whistle! Crossing ahead!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">We're hitting forty-five , by Ned!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Now we're rolling along at near fifty.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">This is so wind-in-the- hair nifty!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rattle, Rattle, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">I love driving the train to Tookey-Doo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">'Cause it don't go to Timbuktoo!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8785852325855236190?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-7867832869988388092009-06-02T21:36:00.014-04:002009-06-03T19:21:27.822-04:00<p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiXUd9FGs0I/AAAAAAAAAPI/v3FldOVCp8k/s1600-h/Say+it+with+flowers.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 203px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342910144022229826" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiXUd9FGs0I/AAAAAAAAAPI/v3FldOVCp8k/s400/Say+it+with+flowers.jpg" /></a></p><div align="center">To say:" I love you, but I'm not ready for a commitment<br />yet." Try a bouquet of shrinking violets, very loosely arranged.</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">To say: "I love you, but that stupid cat has to go!"</div><div align="center">Try an attractive arrangement of pussywillows with catnip.</div><div align="center">*** </div><div align="center"><br />To say: "I need my space, babe!" Try a dozen bachelor's-buttons</div><div align="center">wrapped in tinfoil</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">To say: "I'm really into you. Let's get on with it!" Try a bunch of impatiens</div><div align="center">hastily wrapped in newspaper.</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">To say: "Would you marry me ? I think I'm ready!" Try a spray of</div><div align="center">jack-in-the- pulpits wrapped in white paper.</div><div align="center">*** </div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-786783286998838809?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-60189883216546751952009-06-02T21:22:00.006-04:002009-06-03T19:26:14.688-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiXSglpY1YI/AAAAAAAAAPA/aA3gVfCa7iA/s1600-h/Bar.jpg"></a><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiXQmo3MNmI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ogYFyTXVQjg/s1600-h/Bar+1.jpg"></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong> The crayfish had a ball in May,</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Invited all the crustaceans in the bay,</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>When it was finally over,</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>They were all in clover,</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>And were made into etouffee</strong>.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6018988321654675195?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-81050406340257258422009-05-31T21:02:00.002-04:002009-05-31T21:13:23.695-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiMpoTgVxZI/AAAAAAAAAOo/-xkSSaAGAL8/s1600-h/Couple+on+sofa.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342159355398964626" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiMpoTgVxZI/AAAAAAAAAOo/-xkSSaAGAL8/s400/Couple+on+sofa.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8105040634025725842?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-77633717307875142212009-05-31T17:30:00.004-04:002009-06-01T13:10:48.058-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiQLawhN6wI/AAAAAAAAAOw/4CR4rWMrUlw/s1600-h/Bar+1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 16px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342407612296981250" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SiQLawhN6wI/AAAAAAAAAOw/4CR4rWMrUlw/s400/Bar+1.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My thanks to Dave Hambidge (hambocentral.blogspot.com) for including</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">me in his e-book, <em>Blogging for</em> <em>Newbies</em>, as one of the </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>"Best of the Newer Fiction Blogs."</strong> </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Count is honored.</span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-7763371730787514221?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-61321034497696310042009-05-26T20:18:00.004-04:002009-05-26T20:32:36.922-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ShyJMn13aSI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ZOgclRpBYQ8/s1600-h/Woman+with+roses.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 329px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340294108100913442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ShyJMn13aSI/AAAAAAAAAOY/ZOgclRpBYQ8/s400/Woman+with+roses.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Oh, dress my lady in puce and green,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Give her a mirror and watch her preen.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">She's adorable in her glitz and glitter,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">And extremely proficient in Twitter.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6132103449769631004?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-28913325859417607722009-05-25T11:29:00.008-04:002009-06-08T10:16:22.614-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Shq6ZvyhzCI/AAAAAAAAAOI/4I7Pzg7xGU8/s1600-h/Monique.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 385px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339785259689036834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Shq6ZvyhzCI/AAAAAAAAAOI/4I7Pzg7xGU8/s400/Monique.jpg" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:180%;">MONIQUE</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lovely Monique had a physique,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Everyone thought came from a boutique,</span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">So, she decided to show them all,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And that Fall came to the Ball,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Wearing nothing</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">At </span><span style="font-size:130%;">all.</span></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></p><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2891332585941760772?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-68257519845324791342009-05-14T12:25:00.003-04:002009-05-14T12:46:49.355-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgxGw_x5FwI/AAAAAAAAAOA/7vL_k7rrkwI/s1600-h/Big+Dog.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 342px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335717466095556354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgxGw_x5FwI/AAAAAAAAAOA/7vL_k7rrkwI/s400/Big+Dog.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"> </span><span style="font-size:180%;color:#993300;"><strong>MOVE OVER, ROVER!<br /></strong></span><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>Don't fret, don't fuss, don't even cuss.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>Your house is big enough for both of us!</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>I know its your domicile,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>But it's only for a while.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>Until she gets over her hissy fit,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>You and I, Pal, will just sit.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>***</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>When you get thrown out the door,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>It's nice to own a big Labrador.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>So, move over, Rover.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>Move over, Friend!</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>Tomorrow, we will be back in the den</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong>***</strong></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993300;"><strong>Count Sneaky</strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;"><strong></strong></span> </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6825751984532479134?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-54660124560139271772009-05-13T12:04:00.006-04:002009-05-13T15:33:35.921-04:00<div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgrwKa3t4fI/AAAAAAAAANw/RfqvVWEaEIk/s1600-h/Curtain.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335340770376147442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgrwKa3t4fI/AAAAAAAAANw/RfqvVWEaEIk/s400/Curtain.jpg" /></a> <strong>"What would I do with a piece of your mind?<br /></strong><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div></div><br /><div align="center">"<strong>Well, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kemo</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sabe</span>, What do we do now!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Oh! Be still my beating heart!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong></strong><strong>"If beauty is only skin deep, how deep</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>does it need to go?"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"A fool and his money will have a good time!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"If you are a few bricks short of a load,</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>don't take the truck out of the brickyard!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Of course you don't need a nose job...</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>it works doesn't it?"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Do you know anyone who has never stuck </strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>a Q-Tip in his ear!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"The early bird still has to eat worms!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Taco Bell is suing a rival for copyright </strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>infringement to get its ding dong back!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Two wrongs don't make a right, </strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>but sometimes</strong><strong> they make a maybe!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Is there anything men can't do working</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>together? Yeah. They can't read a manual!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Politics is the art of possibly doing </strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>the possible if possible!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Do not live in a glasshouse if you are</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>a stone's throw from your neighbor!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"My ancestors came on over the</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>Mayflower...in the brig!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"You spent a mountain of money </strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>to buy a molehill!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wooda</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">coulda</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">shoulda</span>...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">didya</span>?"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>"Go talk to Rover...You're sleeping</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>in his house tonight!"</strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-5466012456013927177?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-87433095272754344142009-05-13T10:16:00.017-04:002009-05-13T11:43:27.236-04:00<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgrbFARcSTI/AAAAAAAAANo/XRfDlc1kcwo/s1600-h/Diana.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 142px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335317587592759602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgrbFARcSTI/AAAAAAAAANo/XRfDlc1kcwo/s400/Diana.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>Diana, Princess of Wales</em></span> <div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgrapcjWnDI/AAAAAAAAANg/KVAoY7-rZ_Y/s1600-h/Bar+1.jpg"></a><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><em></em></div><div align="center"><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8743309527275434414?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-15834077971782311102009-05-12T20:38:00.017-04:002009-05-13T10:47:59.848-04:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgouJMyPogI/AAAAAAAAAMw/V7tuZbS1Nf8/s1600-h/Little+Girl.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 254px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335127444159439362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgouJMyPogI/AAAAAAAAAMw/V7tuZbS1Nf8/s320/Little+Girl.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>My asters are disasters.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>My lillies aren't dillies.<br />My daffodills hold no thrills.<br />I look at the gladioli and just sigh.<br />My wisteria has diptheria.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><br /></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>If it gets any worse,<br />It'll be the curse,<br />That comes down,<br />When a green thumb turns brown.</strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="right"><em><span style="font-size:100%;">Count Sneaky<br /></span></em><br /></div><div align="right"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 16px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335119852205423266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgonPSjWuqI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/afjcVHHjYqk/s400/Bar.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1583407797178231110?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-22243029185032747062009-05-12T11:33:00.021-04:002009-05-13T11:58:27.778-04:00<div align="center"><span style="font-family:webdings;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Webdings;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><strong>Bless my rusty dusty, Father,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">For I have sinned,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">I wet my crib after,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">My diaper came unpinned.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">I know I'm a lot of bother,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">An' create a lot of trouble,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">'Cause I just lay here,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">An' goo-goo an' bubble.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">But, I'll get bigger,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">An' make plenty of money,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">Meantine, you and mom,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">Just call me Honey.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky</em></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:webdings;font-size:85%;"><em></em></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2224302918503274706?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-68355898482656333582009-05-08T22:10:00.004-04:002009-05-11T19:04:33.027-04:00<span style="color:#993300;"></span><span style="color:#cc6600;"></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgTmmJcwWtI/AAAAAAAAAK4/_YmGwMr5HVc/s1600-h/Fool+in+public.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 392px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333641401759455954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgTmmJcwWtI/AAAAAAAAAK4/_YmGwMr5HVc/s400/Fool+in+public.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6835589848265633358?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-21668403492095507582009-05-08T16:53:00.026-04:002009-05-08T18:58:14.957-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgScrp-yCJI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Yy8Huk4Aplg/s1600-h/Strutzs+House.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 346px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333560132530997394" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SgScrp-yCJI/AAAAAAAAAKw/Yy8Huk4Aplg/s400/Strutzs+House.jpg" /></a> <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">STRUTZ'S NEW HOME.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Hi Count. I'm sending along a picture of my new home. I'm </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">somewhere in Indiana in a rather medium-sized city.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My big rig trucker buddy stopped at "Big Phil's" Truck</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Haven, </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and I liked what I saw here. I hated to leave my trucker</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">buddy </span><span style="font-size:100%;">because I had ridden shotgun with him for weeks looking </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">for </span><span style="font-size:100%;">I found here. I had listened to all his stories, all his women</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">problems,</span><span style="font-size:100%;">and anything that crossed his mind from cussing </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">other drivers to </span><span style="font-size:100%;">singing along with his country music CDs. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">He fed me well </span><span style="font-size:100%;">and scratched my head...he was my "buddy"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">and I hated to leave </span><span style="font-size:100%;">him and "Madelaine," his big-rig truck's </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">name, but I saw these </span><span style="font-size:100%;">houses on the hill a few blocks away. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">My trucker buddy had just </span><span style="font-size:100%;">ordered </span><span style="font-size:100%;">his meal and I was sitting </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">on the restaurant's window </span><span style="font-size:100%;">waiting on him. </span><span style="font-size:100%;">So, I took off to </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">check out the houses and after a </span><span style="font-size:100%;">quick run I was there. Wow! </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Jackpot! Details to follow.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2166840349209550758?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-71103240976644790112009-05-03T11:20:00.010-04:002009-05-03T12:29:41.464-04:00<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>THIS MONTH IN HISTORY</strong></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong></strong></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sf23UUC35SI/AAAAAAAAAKg/xOeW3BNZaq4/s1600-h/Ship+Sailing.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331619093482562850" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sf23UUC35SI/AAAAAAAAAKg/xOeW3BNZaq4/s400/Ship+Sailing.jpg" /></a> In 1513, the Spanish explorer, Ponce de Leon, cruised up</div><div align="center">and down the Florida coast looking for promising</div><div align="center">sites to establish gated communities, retirement </div><div align="center">villages, oceanfront condos, and strip malls.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">C.S.</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>****************************************************</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>There was a lovely lass from Dorset,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Who cinched up her corset,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Buttoned her dress again,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Tied her bonnet under her chin,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>And said, "Love, let's do it again!"</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong>C.S.</strong></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>*****************************************************</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-7110324097664479011?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-25857500920409119502009-05-01T22:39:00.008-04:002009-05-03T12:40:37.703-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SfuypWLuwUI/AAAAAAAAAKY/Vu5K9woCDT8/s1600-h/Lady%27s+face.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 351px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331051007322276162" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SfuypWLuwUI/AAAAAAAAAKY/Vu5K9woCDT8/s400/Lady%27s+face.png" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"> Touch us gently, Time!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">We've not proud nor soaring wings:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Our ambition, our content,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Lies in simple things</span>.</span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Bryan Waller Proctor<br /></span></div></span><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2585750092040911950?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-60704860343241653312009-04-26T15:52:00.006-04:002009-04-26T16:41:06.881-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SfS8z3xQFlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/fRycSyDItY8/s1600-h/Reclining+Cat.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 276px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329091858416014930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SfS8z3xQFlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/fRycSyDItY8/s400/Reclining+Cat.jpg" /></a> <div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>UPDATE: STRUTZ</strong><br /></span>Yo, Count, as you can see I’m beginning to talk like my trucker buddies.<br />I guess it’s ‘cause I’m around them so much, and I’m so well known now<br />in trucker circles that they all love to give me a saucer of milk and talk to me.<br />I think I’ve become a sort of a shotgun-seat psychologist to these men<br />and women. Out on Interstate 39, rolling along at 70 per, next stop 350<br />miles away, they start to unburden themselves to me. Their love life,<br />their divorces, their children, their operations, their goals, their<br />bills, and the price of gas. Of course, being a cat, a superior creature,<br />it’s hard to grasp their problems and concerns, especially the price of gas.<br />So, every time we make a stop at the rest area, I take care of my business<br />And go over to the store to see if I can con them out of a saucer of milk before<br />my trucker comes along and buys me a can of (YUK!) evaporated milk.<br />At any rate, I go to the door of the restaurant and a trucker or two will come<br />along and let me in and I run back to the kitchen and do my act and the<br />cooks give me treats and then put me out the back door. Then I run around to<br />my truck and wait for my good buddy to come back and…<br />“We’re On the Road Again!”<br />Mercy! Strutz the Cat </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6070486034324165331?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-57451670780891383002009-04-25T17:55:00.002-04:002009-04-25T18:02:28.928-04:00<p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SfOHMeo_g2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/VG2qQv7XEYg/s1600-h/Better+or+worse.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 439px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 345px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328751432562606946" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SfOHMeo_g2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/VG2qQv7XEYg/s400/Better+or+worse.jpg" /></a></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-5745167078089138300?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-7489678812331485892009-04-21T17:25:00.000-04:002009-04-21T17:25:51.315-04:00<a href="http://beingandquirckiness.blogspot.com/2009/04/how-vs-why.html?showComment=1240349040000#c134276698731088528">Being and quirkiness: How vs why?</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-748967881233148589?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-21063607366565097772009-04-20T11:49:00.005-04:002009-04-20T12:56:02.450-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Seyabz2H33I/AAAAAAAAAJg/s10diYR9ahM/s1600-h/Mollie+and+Ollie.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326802261836816242" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Seyabz2H33I/AAAAAAAAAJg/s10diYR9ahM/s400/Mollie+and+Ollie.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">Pretty Mollie met Ollie on the trolley,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Her friend Polly said, "By golly,"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"He'd be my folly, if were you, Molly!"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"But", said Molly "I date Wally."</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"I'll take him!" said Polly,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Now, it's all so jolly,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Riding on the trolley'</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">With Polly and Wally,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Mollie and Ollie.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">C.S.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2106360736656509777?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-30571287456196412462009-04-19T14:34:00.000-04:002009-04-19T14:34:10.587-04:00<a href="http://amcd12.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-married-at-age-of-twenty-two-and-bore.html?showComment=1240165980000#c1763907994444726032">Sweet and Sour: Untitled</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-3057128745619641246?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-51764112921242263552009-04-16T18:53:00.016-04:002009-04-16T20:15:53.784-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/See3iBcj8lI/AAAAAAAAAJY/5B_MH4NunYw/s1600-h/Strutz+and+Trucker.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325426879520567890" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/See3iBcj8lI/AAAAAAAAAJY/5B_MH4NunYw/s400/Strutz+and+Trucker.jpg" /></a> Hello again Count! I'm somewhere east of I95 and west of I45 in other words the cat is lost. But I have to say that truckers are wonderful people as humans go (No slight intended to you), and they have treated me very well. They get me saucers of milk, and even cans of food and I get to ride shotgun with them in their cabs. They talk to me as we ride along. It's a lonely job and they welcome company. I pick one at the truck stop who seems to be going the way I want to go and I wait until the driver comes out and I go up and rub his leg (see picture)...I then walk over to his truck and climb up on the running board and meow loudly. Well, they get the message, open the door and let me hop in.I sit up there looking out like I know what I'm doing. They rub my head and call me "Buddy" and we hit the road. As we are rolling down the highway, they rub my head and tell me their problems. My presence, and I am a large, handsome cat, seems to relieve the stress of piloting one of these giant ships of commerce. God bless 'em, they are a hardy, generous, group of humans and I see a truck stop coming up at a small town that looks interesting. I may have to leave my new friend Bubba behind and check it out. Oh, meant to tell you, the downtown mansion I was interested in at the last stop was a dud. Its owner was a little, old gray-haired lady who had a house full of (Yuk!) Yorkshire Terriers! So, I'm sitting here with Bubba</span> thinking of Fluffy.</div><div align="center">Hope to let you know how this burg works out the first the week.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Strutz</span> the Cat</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-5176411292124226355?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-61930352538798158562009-04-12T19:29:00.005-04:002009-04-12T19:44:40.397-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SeJ6VJWPAII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Y3zSw0hUTB4/s1600-h/Willy+and+Nilly.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 355px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323952213210366082" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SeJ6VJWPAII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/Y3zSw0hUTB4/s400/Willy+and+Nilly.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> Sitting here under a moon in June,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I'm about ready to croon,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Something about a honey moon,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Then I'll up and swoon 'n try a new toon,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">'Cause I'm sittin' here with a real baboon.</span></div><div align="center"><em>C.S.</em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6193035253879815856?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-54497001396998351912009-04-10T18:20:00.005-04:002009-04-10T19:00:33.784-04:00<div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sd_MNZ_1TYI/AAAAAAAAAJI/SrK0QCqnxB8/s1600-h/Man+and+woman.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323197815264202114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sd_MNZ_1TYI/AAAAAAAAAJI/SrK0QCqnxB8/s400/Man+and+woman.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">"Sir! It behooves me to reprove you</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">for the move you made in the Louvre!"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">she said adjusting her blouse as they stepped </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">out into the sunlight .</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"However, if again you'd like to try...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I know a lovely place in the Gardens of Versailles."<br /></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-5449700139699835191?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-49681165866820012982009-04-05T20:40:00.008-04:002009-04-10T19:03:46.153-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdlQXYq-EEI/AAAAAAAAAJA/jb1Gy_0GUSc/s1600-h/Fluffy.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 362px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321372797404844098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdlQXYq-EEI/AAAAAAAAAJA/jb1Gy_0GUSc/s400/Fluffy.jpg" /></a> Hi Count, As you can see by the attached picture above, it has been a fine week, so far. This is a picture of my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">amor</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">de</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">jour</span> named "Fluffy" (what else?) She is a refined young lady whose tastes match mine. We have been a item for the last few days and her housekeeper (remember, we never refer to them as owners!) even let me in to eat with her and sit beside her at the fireplace. But, alas, her housekeepers left a lot to be desired in the income and accommodations departments. But, she was such a lovely lady and so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">susceptible</span> to my natural charm and good looks, that I almost wavered. I'm back on the road and continuing my pursuit of the good life.</div><br /><div align="center">I hitched a ride with a trucker over to the next city. He apparently felt sorry for me and poured me a large saucer of milk. This burg looks a lot more promising than <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Fluffy's</span> overgrown crossroads; I miss her already... that long black hair with those yellow eyes! Gad! But, I can't afford to settle down in the midst of my quest. In the morning, after a good sleep I have my eye on a fine Victorian mansion in the downtown area. The town seems to be well-stocked with some fine, furry, female felines that need the pleasure of my company. Meanwhile Count, I will e-mail the result of my pilgrimage (if any) later this week. </div><div align="center"><strong>Strutz the Cat<br /></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-4968116586682001298?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-82176515985551852852009-04-03T21:34:00.005-04:002009-04-03T21:47:00.459-04:00<p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sda6huMmeYI/AAAAAAAAAI4/N8pG1rEsE2U/s1600-h/Dancing+Dan.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 228px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320645098284153218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sda6huMmeYI/AAAAAAAAAI4/N8pG1rEsE2U/s400/Dancing+Dan.jpg" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"> Dancing towards senility,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Restores one's tranquility.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">It frees the mind,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lets the body unwind,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And promotes boogiebility.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">C.S.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8217651598555185285?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-22292846921715029192009-04-03T21:08:00.001-04:002009-04-21T21:58:38.515-04:00<div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdazvBas1XI/AAAAAAAAAIo/IaTCXTh1pZo/s1600-h/Dancing+Dan.jpg"></a><br /> <br /><div></div><br /> <br /><div align="center"></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2229284692171502919?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-47454270924317644732009-04-01T22:02:00.010-04:002009-04-01T22:36:51.772-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdQdSmxpBYI/AAAAAAAAAII/RKa1JD7tWng/s1600-h/Strutz.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319909265315005826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdQdSmxpBYI/AAAAAAAAAII/RKa1JD7tWng/s400/Strutz.jpg" border="0" /></a>Count, I promised you I would keep you up to date with</div><div align="center">my search to find housekeepers who could better afford </div><div align="center">to keep a refined cat like me in fine gourmet food, deluxe</div><div align="center">litter boxes,and peace and quiet in a fine house with a</div><div align="center">fireplace. As I said in the note I left on the fridge for my</div><div align="center">last housekeepers, I'm going to search until I find one.</div><div align="center">It ain't gonna be easy, Count! But, I have run into</div><div align="center">some fine female felines out here who were anxious</div><div align="center">to have me improve their gene pools and spend a day or</div><div align="center">two with them and share their food and comforts. </div><div align="center">However, none of their housekeepers( I laugh every</div><div align="center">time they call themselves our owners!) were any </div><div align="center">great improvement over my previous pair of losers. </div><div align="center">So, I must hit the road again and continue my search </div><div align="center">in a higher-class neighborhood.</div><div align="center">Count, I will e-mail you again on my search. </div><div align="center">Your old buddy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Strutz</span></span>. </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-4745427092431764473?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-65769081721962754392009-04-01T10:33:00.008-04:002009-04-01T22:40:46.795-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdN-gBFc7SI/AAAAAAAAAIA/2rnHtdvqiDU/s1600-h/Gentleman+and+lady.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319734673366904098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 343px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SdN-gBFc7SI/AAAAAAAAAIA/2rnHtdvqiDU/s400/Gentleman+and+lady.jpg" border="0" /></a> "<span style="font-size:130%;">The man or woman who is happy is not</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"> he</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> or she </span><span style="font-size:130%;">who is believed to be so, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">but he or she,</span><span style="font-size:130%;">who believes they are so."</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Michel De Montaigne</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6576908172196275439?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-37229895249289602002009-03-29T09:32:00.017-04:002009-03-30T23:26:12.227-04:00<div align="center"><strong></strong><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sc95HHTVxOI/AAAAAAAAAHw/By1XkITNEKI/s1600-h/Lady+of+the+lake.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318602848074056930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sc95HHTVxOI/AAAAAAAAAHw/By1XkITNEKI/s400/Lady+of+the+lake.jpg" border="0" /></a> "After all these years, I see that I was mistaken </div><div align="center">about Eve in the beginning; it is better to live outside </div><div align="center">the Garden with her than inside it without her."</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Adams Diary</em>, Mark Twain</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">*** </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Adam was the author of sin, and I wish he had </span></div><div align="center">taken out an international copyright on it.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Notebook</em>, Mark Twain</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></div><div align="center">Adam was a man who comes down to us without a </div><div align="center">stain upon his name, unless it was a stain to take</div><div align="center">one apple when most of us would have taken</div><div align="center">the whole crop.</div><div align="center"><em>"</em><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>On Adam</em>", from a speech by Mark Twain</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center">No woman or man really knows what perfect love</div><div align="center">is until they have been married for a quarter of a century.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Notebook,</em> Mark Twain</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><strong>And finally the old master writer and wit </strong></div><div align="center"><strong>wrote in a letter:</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center">Marriage...yes, it is the supreme felicity of life.</div><div align="center">I concede it. And it is also the supreme tragedy of life.</div><div align="center">The deeper the love, the surer the tragedy.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Mark Twain</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-3722989524928960200?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-28558780324376472662009-03-27T21:17:00.010-04:002009-04-01T20:54:58.046-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sc17oKy-bKI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Lxi-WGmOfHs/s1600-h/Curtain.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318042665017568418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 162px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sc17oKy-bKI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Lxi-WGmOfHs/s400/Curtain.jpg" border="0" /></a> Adam was not appalled,</div><div align="center">When he experienced the fall;</div><div align="center">For he found Eve more enthralling,</div><div align="center">When the leaves were falling.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Joe L. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hardegree</span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></div><div align="center">God have mercy on the sinner,</div><div align="center">Who tries every diet to get thinner,</div><div align="center">And when the diet comes to an end,</div><div align="center">Has to find another to begin!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">C.S.</span></div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">There was a young man from York,</div><div align="center">Who was thought of as a dork,</div><div align="center">Until he became a winner,</div><div align="center">When during a boring dinner,</div><div align="center">He discovered the quark.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">C.S.</span></div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">If I could <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">journalize</span>,</div><div align="center">I wouldn't have to internalize,</div><div align="center">All of this crap.</div><div align="center">I could take a nap,</div><div align="center">And then go externalize!.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">C.S.</span></div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Count's</span> Rule for Muddling Through</strong>.</div><div align="center">Mind your own business,</div><div align="center">Try not to meddle.</div><div align="center">Handle it all with finesse,</div><div align="center">Wait for the dust to settle.</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"><strong>ADOPT A TROLL</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em>ALL DAY SATURDAY</em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Spayed and Neutered</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">All Shots and Tags.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Ready to go.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">$125.00</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>Delightful, amusing pets, particularly </strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="font-size:100%;">if you live near a bridge</span>.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">Sponsored by the Society for Humane Treatment of Trolls.</span></div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">If you cross a pug with a boxer what kind of dog </div><div align="center">do you get? Answer: A dog that loses every fight<em>.</em></div><div align="center"><em>***</em></div><div align="center">The length of shoelaces was established by the</div><div align="center">International Shoelace Federation in 1948 to keep the </div><div align="center">industry from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">typing</span> itself up in knots.</div><div align="center"><em>***<br /></div></em><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-2855878032437647266?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-7641314081592031652009-03-24T11:23:00.028-04:002009-03-31T11:35:51.889-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Scj7Uv7pomI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5Zco7nEW8iM/s1600-h/sittin+n+thinkin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316775693993484898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 342px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Scj7Uv7pomI/AAAAAAAAAHg/5Zco7nEW8iM/s400/sittin+n+thinkin.jpg" border="0" /></a> " <strong><em>Sometimes, I just sits</em></strong> <strong><em>and thinks "..."Sometimes I just sits!</em></strong>" </div><div align="center">*** <div align="left"><strong></strong></div></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">DID YOU KNOW...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>***</strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The Roman Candle was invented in China for Wal-Mart.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">There is no zero in Roman numerals. They knew everything.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Iowa is bigger than Portugal, but Portugal holds no political primaries.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">200 million atoms placed in a row would measure one inch, more or less, or the length of the average attention span.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">The earliest known will was written in 2550 B.C. by the earliest known lawyer.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Maine is the only state with a one-syllable name. Be still my heart! </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Frogs have no ribs, but</strong><strong> their legs are very tasty.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">What Little Jack Horner pulled out of a pie resulted in a lawsuit.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">"A woman I knew could speak six languages and couldn't say <em>no </em>in any of them!" Dorothy Parker</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">If there's an elephant in the room you should introduce it to the 800lb. gorilla.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">If it looks like a dumpster. if it smells like a dumpster...it must be a dumpster!</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">***</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-764131408159203165?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-94294104957043782009-03-19T23:10:00.015-04:002009-03-20T21:28:51.631-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScMK-KT20bI/AAAAAAAAAG4/OLxRI8ALNZQ/s1600-h/Girls+Head.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315104048263123378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 287px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScMK-KT20bI/AAAAAAAAAG4/OLxRI8ALNZQ/s400/Girls+Head.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:180%;"> <strong>SONG FOR 'NITA</strong></span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Scuppernong wishes,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">And muscadine dreams,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">And all the little fishes,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">You can catch with moonbeams.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">With all the being alive,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">You can stand 'tween nine and five. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">'Cause I love you 'Nita,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Life couldn't be sweeter.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky for his wife</em></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">There was a girl named Grace,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Who was more than a pretty face.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">It held her back,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Changed her career track,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">But, she said, "It's only a braincase!"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lovely Minny was thin as a penny,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">When she turned sideways any ninny,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Could see, there was no skinny Minny.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Two old dogs sitting in a swing,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">One turns to the other and starts to sing:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"I'll tug at your collar,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I'll nip at your knees,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">I'll get down and wallow,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">And take all your fleas.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Let's settle down and have a litter,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">'Cause I'm a pointer and you're a sitter!"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Drink to me only with thine eyes...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">and I'll finish the bottle!"</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">***</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-9429410495704378?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-12528685425401985692009-03-18T17:36:00.029-04:002009-03-20T18:30:14.749-04:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScGJFUmVcTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/htLA3cmlXMQ/s1600-h/Nez+pince.jpg"></a><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScGIxEDv_OI/AAAAAAAAAGg/tw8dys6sLQU/s1600-h/Nez+pince.jpg"></a><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScFzwe1hL-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/rTp7SDFFx84/s1600-h/Strutz.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314656312022347746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 293px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScFzwe1hL-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/rTp7SDFFx84/s400/Strutz.jpg" border="0" /></a> The following memo was left on the refrigerator under a magnet that read <strong>"Cats Forever!":</strong></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>My dear housekeepers</strong> , The canned cat food that I have been served for the last few weeks is not fit for dogs much less the highly refined taste buds of yours truly. Where did you get this tripe. I won't ask what it cost but I cannot believe that any reputable pet store would try to shovel this litter filler off on any discerning cat fanciers. I have taken in consideration your recently strained resources, but this simply cannot continue ! Unless the quality of my food is appreciably increased I shall be forced to vacate the house and upgrade the human housekeepers whom I favor with my presence. Also, the crappy old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">litterbox</span> I use has to be replaced with a new, </div><div align="center">deluxe model and changed daily. And no more disturbing my nap to show me off to your dim-witted friends. If these changes are made I will reconsider my decision. Get on it! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Strutz</span> the Cat.</div><div align="center">***<br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScFrv0ivi9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/da6Cdc-C0W8/s1600-h/Soldier.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314647504576285650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/ScFrv0ivi9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/da6Cdc-C0W8/s400/Soldier.jpg" border="0" /></a> Today is <strong>Saint Vinaigrette's Day</strong>. It honors Sir Vinaigrette, the knight who slew the last known Dragon and rescued the last known maiden.<br /><br /><div align="center">All hail the knight,</div><div align="center">Who slew the last dragon,</div><div align="center">Took his head and left,</div><div align="center">His tail wagging.</div><div align="center">Now that dragons are no more,</div><div align="center">Knighthood is going to be a bore.</div><div align="center">No more maidens to rescue from their jaws,</div><div align="center">No more peasants to rescue from their claws,</div><div align="center">Farewell fearsome dragons!</div><div align="center">We knights raise our flagons,</div><div align="center">And salute you one last time,</div><div align="center">Stalwart beasts of gore and grime</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>on St. Vinaigrette's Day</em></span></div><br /><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>The Luddite's Ball</strong> will be held in conjunction with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Pecadillo's</span> Ball this month and features the Hollow Log Band. It will be held at the Lake Bohemia Pavilion, out where the buses don't run. </div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center">Meet me tonight in <strong>Dreamland</strong>. Happy Hour is 9pm 'til 9am</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>The Cotillion</strong> for Debutantes with Intellectual <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Pretentions</span> was held in the</div><div align="center">Soda City Library and all had a fine time and the discussions <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">entre</span>-dances</div><div align="center">were very well rehearsed and focused. </div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>Current read</strong>: <em>Solving Pest Problems</em> by James G. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Buckstopper</span>, Frog Hair Press, 2009. 198 pages. Now, what I'm wondering is : Why should we solve problems for pest? Let the little buggers do it themselves. </div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>How to stay fit</strong>: Eat cumquats three times a day and do</div><div align="center">fifty reps of diddly-squats.</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>Left to himself</strong>...a hermit will generally be left to himself. Pinkam's Law.</div><div align="center">***</div><div align="center"><strong>Worm wrestling</strong> is a rapidly growing underground sport.</div><div align="center">***</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1252868542540198569?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-77792557146482381752009-03-11T19:58:00.034-04:002009-03-23T19:18:58.322-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbhR75d0wlI/AAAAAAAAAF4/BLcNdzoAMq4/s1600-h/Bopeep.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312085849963545170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 378px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 450px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbhR75d0wlI/AAAAAAAAAF4/BLcNdzoAMq4/s400/Bopeep.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong> BO PEEP! PEEP! PEEP! PEEP</strong>!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Little Miss Bo Peep,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Lost all of her sheep,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:85%;"></span></div><span style="font-family:georgia;"><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">But, she gave assurance,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"></span><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">That she had insurance,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">So they paid without a peep.</span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><strong>LITTLE BOY'S PRAYER</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:75%;">Star light, star bright.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:75%;">First star I see tonight.</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:75%;">I wish I may, I wish I might,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:75%;">Have the wish I wish tonight,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:75%;">And God bless Mommy and Daddy,</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:75%;">And my dog Snot!</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:75%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"><strong>I USED TO WALK TO SCHOOL...</strong></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:50%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">When I was in elementary school many, many long years ago </span></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I </span></span></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;">walked to school with the little girl that lived down the street from me. I thought of her as "Ann of the fair face and golden locks." Even then I was intrigued with the creatures. One day I told her that I had heard on the radio that they were building a dam site better than required for a reservoir outside of town.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;">She shuddered, clamped her hand over her mouth and dropped her books on the sidewalk. She said I should never use such foul, profane language in her presence again! When I got home I told my mother what I said and she chased me and my dog through the screen door and out into the yard yelling at me never to use such foul, profane language in her presence again!</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;">The next day "Ann of the fair face,etc." deigned to accompany me to and from school if I would agree never to use such language in her presence again...henceforth and forever! I said, "Oh, hell yes!" I joyfully cried, confident of my feral charm.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;">I told my dog Snot that I didn't think anyone understood me but him. He promptly peed on my leg while watching Ann of the etc. run home as fast as her little legs would carry her.</span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;">But, she forgave me the next day when I presented her with some treats that I had wrapped with a nice red, fancy bow in a golden box. She didn't have to know that they were some chewies that my mother had bought for Snot. </span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:50%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">I told my father what I had done and he couldn't keep a straight face around my mother for days. I knew which side my little butt was buttered on </span>.</span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong>VERY SHORT POEM</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;"><strong>Ain'tcha?</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;"><strong>Can'tcha?</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;"><strong>Don'tcha?</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:50%;"><strong>Won'tcha?</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">***</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;"><em><strong>I learned as a boy that frogs don't cause warts</strong></em></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;"><em><strong>...toads do!</strong></em></span></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">***</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">My mother once gave me a book entitled,</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">"The Emotional Lives of Cats."</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">It had an introduction followed by 400 blank pages.</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">***</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:50%;"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><strong>Lucy had some charm, </strong></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><strong>it's true,</strong></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:50%;"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><strong>'Cause Lucy </strong></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><strong>did what Lucy do!</strong></span></span></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;">***</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;"></span></strong></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:50%;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:50%;"><strong><span style="font-size:50%;"></span></strong></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:50%;"></span></p><div align="center"><span style="font-size:50%;"><br /></span></div></span></span><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbhRD7ro3dI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ApeVIZqwCeo/s1600-h/Curtain.jpg"></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-7779255714648238175?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-83629391427221741182009-03-08T19:01:00.002-04:002009-03-08T19:18:56.325-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbRO5uywRYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/QpGFJqgkaqY/s1600-h/Couple+on+bench.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310956614297077122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 305px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbRO5uywRYI/AAAAAAAAAFg/QpGFJqgkaqY/s400/Couple+on+bench.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong>" I will only marry you, Harold...if you promise</strong></div><div align="center"><strong> never to </strong><strong>use my bathroom!"<br /></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-8362939142722174118?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-46878854229491022732009-03-06T18:16:00.019-05:002009-03-20T21:37:00.603-04:00<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbGvVSGXP7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ZJLM6FbQEQo/s1600-h/Waltzing+Willie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310218215817166770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 321px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SbGvVSGXP7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/ZJLM6FbQEQo/s400/Waltzing+Willie.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"><strong>WILLIE WALTZES</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Waltz with me, Willie,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Let's twirl and swirl.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Maybe, you'll forget Millie,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>And I'll be your girl.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Let's dance the Vienna,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Or even the Tennessee,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>We'll dance through dinner,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>And the drinks are on me.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Look in my eyes and sigh.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Tell me you love me, silly ,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>And I'll know you lie.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>So, waltz with me, Willie!</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky</em></span></strong></div><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"><strong>***</strong></span></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">A young man named Sealyham,</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">Filled his balloon with helium,</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">Caught a breeze,</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">Stifiled a sneeze,</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">And said,"I'm off to New Zelium!"</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;">***</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;">There was a maiden named Thalia,</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;">Who despised failure.</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;">Beautiful and chaste,</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;">She refused to marry in haste,</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;">Until offered Queen's regalia.</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;">***</span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">A new planet, named Simoneades, was discovered last week by astronomers in California. How it got to California is not known.</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">***</span></strong></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>A man was finally found after a nationwide search for a male who </strong><strong>refuses to take charge of his tv's remote control.</strong></span></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">***</span></strong></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>TIP OF THE WEEK: You can put new wine in old bottles. </strong><strong>Who's going to know, or mention it?</strong></span></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;">***</span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span><strong></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="center"><br /></div></strong></span><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-4687885422949102273?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-66955878023007026152009-03-04T12:08:00.004-05:002009-03-04T12:19:35.640-05:00<div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sa63V-FaaiI/AAAAAAAAAEw/6KZJcc_MahU/s1600-h/Lovely+Lena.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309382598787230242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sa63V-FaaiI/AAAAAAAAAEw/6KZJcc_MahU/s400/Lovely+Lena.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"><strong>LOVELY LENA'S LAMENT</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm looking for Mr. Right,</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Every day and night.</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The good ones are taken,</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The rest are godforsaken.</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">But, I'm not dismayed.</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">My hand's not played,</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And I'm not bereft,</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So, I'll settle for what's left.</span></strong></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><em>Count Sneaky</em></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></strong></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-6695587802300702615?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-4344666271390256592009-03-03T09:32:00.009-05:002009-03-03T10:47:17.546-05:00<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sa1AkXyXtAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/u2wfKG3ylHs/s1600-h/Fainting+woman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308970529344435202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/Sa1AkXyXtAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/u2wfKG3ylHs/s400/Fainting+woman.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:180%;">YOU!</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center">You straighten my hair. You make me swear.</div><div align="center">You curl my toes. You stop up my nose.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>I think I hate you!</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">You make me weak. You kiss my cheek.</div><div align="center">You make me dream. You make me scream.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>I think I hate you!</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center">You are a temptation. You are an aggravation.</div><div align="center">You are trouble unalloyed. You are schizoid.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>I think I hate you!</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">You are my hearthrob. You are a thingabob.</div><div align="center">You are a catastrophe. You have mastered me.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong>I think I love you! </strong></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Count Sneaky</strong></span></em></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>**********</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>There was a lady named Sue,</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>Who went to get a tattoo.</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>When she came out,</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>She said with a shout,</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>"He had designs on me, too!"</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Count Sneaky</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong></p><div align="center"><br /></div></strong><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-434466627139025659?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-8719416315013431582009-02-28T17:37:00.019-05:002009-02-28T19:43:53.713-05:00<strong><span style="font-family:verdana;">AUTHOR, AUTHOR</span>!</strong><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><br /><strong>Breathes there a blogger with soul so dead...</strong>that he does not wish to be a published author? My friend, Dudley Jejune, reports:<br /> "Count, I have written two published books. The first was <em>"The Quotable</em> <em>Marcel Marceau"</em> and it got no favorable reviews. In fact, the publisher donated the entire first edition to the state of Florida who used it to build an artificial reef off the west coast near Tampa. And then I wrote <em>"The Wit and Wisdom of Calvin Coolidge"</em> and it became an artificial reef on the east coast of Florida. But, that's the publishing business, I guess. If you wish to invest the toil, tears, and shattered relationships involved in writing books...OK! Just make sure your work is relevant and timely like the work I have in progress now. It is entitled <em>" An Introduction to Humorous Mathematical Equations" </em>and was co-authored by my ex-wife.<br /> All in all, the best advice I can give to blog writers out there is: If at first you don't succeed, have yourself stuffed back into the cannon and shot out again. You're bound to hit something sooner or later as my ex-wife has pointed out. Watch your dangling participles and split infinitives. Dudley."<br /><br /><br /> Another aspiring author, Hedley Hemstitch, writes: "Count Sneaky,<br />I have been thinking of some advice to give aspiring bloggers who wish to be published authors and, frankly, I would advise them to avoid the temptation to sleep in the woods twice a week. You may fill a void, but you can't keep one from leaking. My new unpublished self-help book, "<em>Idiot-Proof Your Home...Move Out!"</em> has aroused some interest at Compost Publishing and I expect to have my phone calls returned any day now."<br /><br /><br /> Finally, Nicole Tortoise reports that her latest unpublished novel, "<em>Ducks In a Row,</em>" has been favorably received by Lemonade Press and<br />is being considered, though it does not meet their present needs or reader lists. She advises that one keep a low profile and a large,vicious dog.<br /><br /> Thanks Nic. Keep us informed; we're pulling for you!<br /><br /><br /> I know it's tough to keep a blog going and write books too. But, I think these folks prove it can be done...or at least attempted. At any rate, the only advice that the Count can give after the rejection of his latest epic work, <em>"Dairy Farming for Everyone,"</em> is: Don't cry over spilled milk!<br /><p align="center"><br /> </p><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-871941631501343158?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-35288325277364865032009-02-26T17:12:00.009-05:002009-02-26T20:24:57.396-05:00<div align="center">"<strong><em>Do not mess with me! Do not touch me!</em></strong><br /><strong><em>I'm recycling!"</em></strong><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SacT-AFqWXI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ELFFwyBDnzI/s1600-h/Cat2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307232641775982962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SacT-AFqWXI/AAAAAAAAAEg/ELFFwyBDnzI/s400/Cat2.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a><br /><strong><em>"So, have a hissy fit!"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"It doesn't come in YOUR size!"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"Fill in the blank. Kiss my ____!"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"Your incompetence without arrogance </em></strong><br /><strong><em>is refreshing!"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"What's on your mind...if you'll allow</em></strong><br /><strong><em>the overstatement?"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"I'm only into this relationship</em></strong><br /><strong><em>for the food and fireplace."</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"If you're a few bricks short of a load...</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Don't take the truck out of the brickyard!"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>"Can you spell hemorrhoids, Mr. Rogers?"</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;">...From the Diary of Strutz the Cat</span></em></strong><strong><em> </em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /></p><strong><em></em></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-3528832527736486503?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-14623495968567630072009-02-23T17:26:00.023-05:002009-02-23T21:10:03.181-05:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SaM-CI9QOjI/AAAAAAAAAD4/6e_6rNdoNmI/s1600-h/Herald.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306152992457636402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 293px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SaM-CI9QOjI/AAAAAAAAAD4/6e_6rNdoNmI/s400/Herald.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>MEETING NOTICES:</strong><br /></span><br /><div><em><strong>All times and gathering places are subject to change.</strong></em></div><div><em><strong>Don't call...we just run the notices, people!</strong></em></div><div><em></em></div><br /><div><em><strong>1.</strong> The Society for the Preservation of Antique Water Closets reports that it is flush with new members and is getting a handle on it's recent cash overflow problems, reports President Basil Bubonik. </em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>2.</strong> Ye Olde Societie for Ye Preservation of Antique Spellinque meets</em></div><div><em>on ye first Maundy of ye olde moonth. Discombobulation about ye tyme</em></div><div><em>of ye meetings is hereby rendered franductable. Jayme Poltroon, Secry.and Pettifogger-in- Chyef.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>3.</strong> NOTICE: The society for the Preservation of Extinct Species has called it quits because it cannot recruit new members to replace the older, departed members. It hopes, according to Fred Trilobite, Founder, to reorganize at some time in the future.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>4.</strong> Reservations are being taken now for the Annual Artist's Ball in </em></div><div><em>City next month. "You do not have to be able to draw to attend!"</em></div><div><em>emphasized Margo Modjeska, organizer and life class model.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div><em><strong>5.</strong> The Worshipful Company of Melon Stompin', Seed Spittin', Stump Jumpin', Pumpkin Rollin', Hog Rangers over at Soda City have their</em></div><div><em>Annual Barbeque, Hose Down, and Initiation Ceremonies next week. Get in touch with "Skeeter" Shinglehammer for details and tickets. All proceeds go to The Soda City Twilight Home. It pomises to be a goat-gagger!</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>6.</strong> A book signing will be held at Grabwell's Book Boutique and Bar in the city all this week to celebrate the publication of Vicky Vichyssoise's new book entitled "Jump-Starting Your Ego With Vicky V." It's Miss V.'s</em></div><div><em>first tome and was published by the Woodchuck Press, a cheap, vanity press operation of a major publisher. Miss V. will autograph copies and buy drinks from 5:oo on.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>7.</strong> NOTICE: Evening classes in "The Zen of Feng Shui and Yoga" will be featured held at the Upstate Bucklehuck Technical College for all interested seniors and others on the 18th Hole of Life. Call Kitty Wampus at ext. 999.9 after 5:00 except on weekends, holidays, and uneven weeks.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>8. </strong>The Shinola Society will hold educational Seminars for those wishing to be able to become qualified and discriminating members. Call or come your local chapter's lodgings.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>9.</strong> The Notary Sojac over at Silo City has retired and a replacement is being sought. Congratulations to Heidi Alfresco for 35 years of service.</em></div><div><em>Heidi plans to operate a website and do a little "horsin' around" as she puts it at the Silo City Riding Academy and Saddle Clinic.</em></div><div><em></em> </div><div><em></em></div><div><em><strong>10.</strong> LAST CHANCE: Sign up now for "Recondite Wines and Esoteric</em></div><div><em>Viniagrettes of Obscure Hostiliers of Chaumont and Montpelier", at Lugnut University Extension Division for Adult Education and Diversion. Contact: Finan Haddi, ext: 00012390</em></div><br /><div><em><strong>We will continue to post notices as they are availale or amusing. </strong></em></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1462349596856763007?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-5195650251379747712009-02-22T12:02:00.013-05:002009-02-22T15:40:56.303-05:00<span style="color:#000000;"></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SaGFmhdn9TI/AAAAAAAAADg/62ZuAZfp5MQ/s1600-h/Bear+tango.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305668732883301682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 363px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SaGFmhdn9TI/AAAAAAAAADg/62ZuAZfp5MQ/s400/Bear+tango.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>HISTORICAL NOTE OF DUBIOUS ORIGIN</strong>:</span></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">In 1563 dancing bears were taught to do the tango.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">They were never quite able to do it well, and the</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">practice was abandoned in royal courts by 1575 </span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">when the bears unionized and were sold to gypsies</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">who taught them, quite sucessfully, to do the</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">fandango! They adapted to caravan life and can still</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">be found in remote corners of Europe and Asia</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">where they now do the Texas two-step and the </span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Viennese Waltz .</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>IN AN EFFORT TO PROVIDE</strong> Social graces and</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">a little enjoyment in these hard times, the Count</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">publishes the secret of doing the WALTZ:</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">1.<strong> Grip</strong>. (when the music starts.) <strong>Dip</strong>, then <strong>Trip, </strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000000;"></span></strong></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"><strong>1 and 2, </strong><strong>Dip,</strong> then <strong>Trip, 1 and 2</strong>... and repeat until music stops.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Look into her eyes and try to convince her you aren't</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">really the <strong>Dip</strong> you seemed to be. </span></div><div><span style="color:#330099;"></span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#330099;">NOW A LITTLE LATE NEWS:</span></strong></div><div><strong></strong><em><span style="color:#330099;">A little, very late, breaking February news that is.</span></em></div><div> </div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div><strong><em>THE GROUNDHOG</em></strong></div><div></div><div>Punxsutawney Phil </div><div>went over the hill,</div><div>Refused to predict the weather.</div><div>Said Channel 4 could do it better!</div><div></div><div>Weatherman Bill </div><div>Was brought into fill,</div><div>But he quit too,</div><div>For a post at Channel 2.</div><div> </div><div>C.S.</div><div></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Remember, if the groundhog sees his shadow it means six more</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">weeks of weather reports from the Weather Channel</span>.</div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000000;">NEWS FROM SODA CITY THIS WEEK.</span></strong></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Sadly, the Soda City Sentinel reported this week that</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">Bo Cooterhugger died this week. He was the first in the county</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">to rediscover the lost art of making Swamp Dew, a very potent form</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">of moonshine that had thought to be a forgotten process.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">He was buried Tuesday at Sunset Memorial Park, his body</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">in one coffin and his liver in another. He will be missed.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">The Soda City Genetic Research Foundation reported this week that its studies revealed that webbed feet are an inherited mutation in families</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">that eat frog legs more than three times a week. "Further studies are</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">required to establish a definitive link" said Dr. Fletcher Firewall.</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">The Soda City Sentinel reminds you that while "Necessity" may be the</span></div><div><span style="color:#000000;">mother of invention, "Advertising" is its father.</span></div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">The Immortal Mark Twain once observed:</span></strong></em></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">"What sir, would the people of the earth be </span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">without women? They would be scarce, sir,</span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">almighty scarce!"</span></em></strong></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-519565025137974771?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-19050739780203269322009-02-19T22:19:00.020-05:002009-02-20T22:45:21.982-05:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SZ9zn6KQ5vI/AAAAAAAAADY/JXxlUiWTa8c/s1600-h/dance.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305086015530133234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 272px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SZ9zn6KQ5vI/AAAAAAAAADY/JXxlUiWTa8c/s400/dance.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SZ9s5egx7WI/AAAAAAAAADQ/KTJt4m-i6cU/s1600-h/Miss+D+Riviera.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SZ9qMiVqOAI/AAAAAAAAADI/zuQftp4h8uc/s1600-h/Miss+D+Riviera.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SZ89LjgKDBI/AAAAAAAAADA/V8v6QerPU64/s1600-h/Miss+D+Riviera.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;">MS. WILCOX'S MASTERPIECE...</span></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>All of you know the world-famous first two lines of this poem but how</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>many know the rest of the poem or the author's name? For you, dear reader, here 'tis:</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong><em><span style="color:#6600cc;">"SOLITUDE"</span></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">Laugh and the world laughs with you;</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">Weep, and you weep alone.</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">For the sad old earth must borrow it its mirth,</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">But has trouble enough of its own.</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">Sing, and the hills will answer;</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">Sigh, it is lost on the air.</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">They bound to a joyful sound,</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="color:#000099;">But shrink from voicing care.</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em><span style="font-size:78%;color:#333399;"><strong>Ella Wheeler Wilcox</strong></span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><em></em>OK<em>,</em> the rest of the poem does not approach the lyrical</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>first two lines and it sounds like 19th century melancholy;</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>well, it is just that. But the first two lines resonate in the </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>memory like few others. Ms. Wheeler died in 1919 but we</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>will never forget these two lines. A my fifth-grade teacher,</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Miss Dazzlerag used to say to me, "Fungo infections are </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>spread by Little League teams!" Well, no, that's not it.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>She said, "Remember, Count...marry a seamstress and</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>she will keep you in stitches!" She had slipped her moorings</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>a few years back but she was a laugh a minute and had crying </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>fits on the hour. Yet she was a cultured and charming lady and she</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>chose one of us every year to be her "teacher's pet" ; it was my</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>good fortune to be chosen during the year I spent in her class.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Actually, the rest of the boys in the class got together and promised me a </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>quarter from each every day if I would be the "teacher's pet." This was an</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>offer the Count couldn't refuse. My duties consisted of dusting the</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>blackboard erasers and staying after school occassionally to listen to</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>her troubles with the staff, the principal, and her boy friend, the town </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>banker. In return, I got grades above my actual efforts and an upclose</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>look at a lovely squirrel. She later married her long time romance,</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>the town banker, and retired from trying to civilize little hellions</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>like us and settled down to a life of leisure and culture. Soon, she became </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>the belle dame of society and produced three well-mannered hellions of </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>her own. She reminded everyone that... <span style="color:#cc0000;">a "lady" is a "lady" is a "lady."</span> </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-1905073978020326932?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-2761151586265730482009-02-16T21:37:00.000-05:002009-02-18T09:57:33.015-05:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o8wJjhOm3Pc/SZt6ocoEbfI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Z6sYDd0myOY/s1600-h/The+Band.jpg"></a><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="font-size:0;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">PONDERING THE POOCH...<br /><br /></span></strong><span style="font-size:100%;">Here's a thought, borrowed of course, but nevertheless,<br />rather beguiling. Consider this little prayer quoted by E. Tolle:<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong>"O Lord, help me to make myself into the person<br />that my dog thinks I am!"<br /></strong><br />Nice! Of course, if you're a cat fancier...well, a cat looks at you<br />and sees central heating and air conditioning, a quiet, safe,<br />place to nap, and a steady supply of nutrition. Understandable,<br />if not particularly inspiring. Rover, on the other hand,<br />would accompany Atilla the Hun and pillage with him<br />without a second thought.<br />The Count has no desire to start an argument with dog or cat<br />lovers. He has had several of both animals in his long life and<br />and knows well the fun and comfort they both can bring to their<br />owners. Well, actually, cats don't have owners...they merely<br />favor you with their presence as long as it's in their interest.<br />The pooch, on the other hand, made a wrong turn at the last<br />universe and thinks you are God.<br /></span></div><br /><div>We shall not mention birds, snakes, ferrets, and other pets which have their own partisans and perhaps their own virtues; but they can not</div><br /><div>hold a candle to the sheer numbers of Man's Best Friend and Man's</div><br /><div>Best Freeloader. The Pooch and The Mooch! OK! Just kidding.</div><br /><div>Think about it. You are worthy of unconditional love <em><strong>and</strong></em> conditional</div><br /><div>love... just like real life and as long as you think so too, you are spared</div><br /><div>many self-destructive feelings and emotions. Give them a treat and a </div><br /><div>pat on the head from the Count.</div><br /><div>Alright, suppose you're a cat fancier and your love is a dog lover...</div><br /><div>what then, Oh, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sneakaroo</span>? Well, perhaps you both should look into</div><br /><div>compromising on a bird, snake, ferret, or, perhaps fish! How romantic; </div><br /><div>watching a tank of Guppies blow bubbles. Calm down fish fanciers;</div><br /><div>just having a little fun. </div><br /><div><strong>A Couple Of Pet Lover Bumper Strips:</strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">1. MY DOG CAN LICK ANYONE!</span></strong></em></div><br /><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong></div><br /><div><em><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">2. MY CAT JUST BIT YOUR HONOR STUDENT!</span></strong></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Miscellaneous Notes________________________</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div>1. Frogs have no ribs.</div><br /><br /><div>2. Elephants are the only animals that can't jump.</div><br /><div>They don't need to!</div><br /><br /><div>3. A moose is a tall cow with funny horns.</div><br /><br /><div>4. Why do they call skunks: polecats? They</div><br /><div>aren't cats and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">they can't</span> climb poles.</div><br /><br /><div>5. After I got my ducks in a row... someone</div><br /><div>starting shooting at them!<br /></div><br /><div>6. The most difficult problem Mother Nature </div><br /><div>had to work out was porcupine love.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>7. You can't make a silk purse out of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">sow's</span> ear...</div><br /><div>but you can make a sow very mad!</div><br /><br /><div>8. Our parrot is in love with a duck. He keeps</div><br /><div>squawking, "Polly want a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">quacker</span>!"</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>9. Cross a Poodle with a Springer Spaniel and</div><br /><div>you get a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Poodlejumper</span>.</div><br /><br /><div>10. Monkey see...monkey do...just like me...</div><br /><div>just like you!</div><br /><br /><div>11. Owning your own groundhog is probably</div><br /><div><em>not</em> a good idea.</div><br /><br /><div>12. The minutes from the last meeting of the</div><br /><div>Society for the Preservation of Extinct </div><br /><div>Species were misplaced.</div><br /><br /><div>13. To cows nothing is quite as cool as a</div><br /><div>pasture dance!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>14. A fashion designer is someone who </div><br /><div>would put zippers on a marsupial.</div><br /><br /><div><em><strong>Now for the children. A little of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Count's</span> </strong></em></div><br /><div><em><strong>Hair of the Doggerel That Bit You:</strong></em></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong>When lions eat grass,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">What'll</span> come to pass?</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>When polar bears turn red,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>What more can then be said?</strong></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong>When cats learn to fetch and heel,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">How'll</span> we ever know how they feel?</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>When pigs learn to fly,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">What'll</span> we do with the sty?</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>When turtles lose control,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Do they slowly rock and roll?</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>When dogs learn to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">rollerskate</span></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Will it affect my insurance rate?</strong><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Love me - love my dog,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>But what if I have a hog?</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Would you be mine,</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>If I gave up my swine?</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>C.S.</strong> </div><br /><div align="left"><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#333399;">The Count would like to remind you that this site</span></em></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><em><span style="color:#333399;">is a total mess and is always under construction. </span></em></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#333399;"><strong>Just step </strong><strong>over things and send along any suggestions</strong></span></em></div><br /><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#333399;"><strong>and </strong><strong>comments you deem appropriate. The Count</strong></span></em></div><br /><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#333399;"><strong>graciously </strong><strong>welcomes them all. To paraphrase</strong></span></em></div><br /><div align="left"><em><span style="color:#333399;"><strong>Ambrose Bierce ,</strong><strong> "Politeness is quite acceptable</strong></span></em></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><em><span style="color:#333399;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">hypocracy</span> and badly needed today!"</span></em></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><em></em></strong></div><div align="left"> </div><br /><p><em>Now, to bring you up to date on Aristotle the gorilla</em></p><p><em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">for</span> those who asked (both of you.):</em></p><br /><div align="left">The Soda City Sentinel reports that Aristotle the 650lb.</div><br /><div align="left">gorilla (Hereabouts, he is known as "Aristotle the ape,"</div><br /><div align="left">after an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">imbroglio</span> at the home of Buster <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Inabinet</span>, was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">tranquilized</span> </div><br /><div align="left">and returned to his home at the Harwell Zoo and Animal Farm<em>.</em></div>He was greeted by his mate Zelda, with a newborn on each<br /><br /><div align="left">breast, with a right cross followed by a left hook. Crestfallen, he </div><br /><div align="left">retired to his corner and stroked his chin trying to figure out the </div><br /><div align="left">events of the past day. He paused in his meditation long enough </div><br /><div align="left">to direct a few hand gestures to the zoo visitors. His antics have</div><br /><div align="left">increased zoo attendance by 500% and the handlers have increased</div><br /><div align="left">the hunt for a new mate. Zelda seems quite happy with her twins</div><br /><div align="left">and they are a great new attraction also. The Zoo Direct, Herb</div><br /><div align="left"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Pintail</span>, sees a banner year ahead for the attraction which started </div><br /><div align="left">out in 1978 as a roadside snake show featuring Mozart, a seven-foot</div><br /><div align="left">Reticulated Python with a bad birthmark. </div><br /><div align="left">Herb reminds us that is correct to refer to a neutered poodle</div><br /><div align="left">as a "noodle."</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><em><strong>Now, A little more of the Count's doggerel for the little ones:</strong></em></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><em></em></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><em><strong></strong>Hickeyjiggers make good pets.</em></div><br /><div align="left"><em>They are caught without nets.</em></div><br /><div align="left"><em>They require little care,</em></div><br /><div align="left"><em>And are very, very rare-</em></div><br /><div align="left"><em>Their numbers are few to none,</em></div><em>So, the trick is finding one!</em><br /><br /><div align="left"><em>C.S.</em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><em></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><em><strong></strong></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><em></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><em></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><em></em></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong><em></em></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-276115158626573048?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-91335384735014486022009-02-15T17:33:00.000-05:002009-02-15T18:07:38.955-05:00<div align="right"><strong><em><span style="color:#000000;">Interesting words for your blogs:</span></em></strong> Blither, Blithering,</div><div align="right">Blather, Blathering,Blink, Blinking, Heave, Heaving,</div><div align="right">Slather, Slathering, Piddle, Piddling, Slither, Slithering,</div><div align="right">Fuddled, Befuddled, Flog, Flogging, Engorge, Engorging,</div><div align="right">Fenestration, Defenestration,Prenasal, Postnasal, Midnasal,</div><div align="right">Nonpartisan, Bipartisan, Partisan,Undesended, Middling,</div><div align="right">Bifurcated, Trifurcated, Obverse, Reverse, Transverse,</div><div align="right">Tweak, Squeak, Poltroon, Picaroon, Impaired, Repaired,</div><div align="right">Kaboodle, Kanoodle,Vibrocentric, Egocentric, Gaucheries, </div><div align="right">Grotesqueries, Semiliterate, Demiliterate, Illiterate, Preliterate,</div><div align="right">and, of course, Knobbleknockers, Booyah, Hunkering, Feral,</div><div align="right">Cobbling, Bovinery, Lollygagging, Claptrappery, Heliotrope,</div><div align="right">Taupe and Puce. There, only a partial (dustknuckling) list of</div><div align="right">Frolication! </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-9133538473501448602?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7506857395283620132.post-8659214327909363062009-02-09T17:11:00.001-05:002009-02-21T23:01:02.987-05:00<strong>Welcome to Count Sneaky's Electric Notebook</strong> <strong>wherein you will find</strong> <strong>Moral and Refined Entertainment, Unique and Original</strong> <strong>for Ladies and</strong> <strong>Gentlemen of All Ages .</strong> Here there be no dragons. Here there be as the late "Chuckles the Clown" said, "A little song, a little dance, a shot of seltzer down the pants!" Build a few castles in the air ...rent them out to friends or spend a little time there yourself to find respite from this<br />all too serious world. As the Count has said many times, "Nobody knows the truffles I've seen!" The Count has learned a lot about the world from<br />the Jiffy Lube waiting room to the artist's booths in Montmarte, the Wal-Mart snack bar to the Black Forest, the local car wash to the mountains of Haiti. The Count is older than his ties and younger than his ambitions.<br />So, let us kick back and enjoy a few moments of merriment.<br /><br />This blog is a work in progress. The graphics are horrible...the layout is absymal and the pavement and drainage is a mess. So, hang with me<br />and share those moral and refined amusements and unique funny incidents along with any of your favorite eccentricities (so long as they're funny) with the Count. Remember, to suffer fools gladly...some of them maybe your relatives! My Best, Count Sneaky<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7506857395283620132-865921432790936306?l=countsneaky.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Count Sneakyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17996792466850803692noreply@blogger.com1