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notinKansasanymore
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You know there's that bumper sticker that says "visualize world peace". And then came along the humourous one "visualize whirled peas". Well the other day I saw one that said "visualize using your turn signal". Made my heart merry like a medicine to see that!!

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I am home today as I awoke kinda sickly today. But after reading the latest entries by the ekklesia (did I spell that right?) on this tread of all ages by golly I feel better!

And to welcome Jonny come Lingo, here is a little ditty just for you: Ahem, (clearing the throat)

There is a guy who has eight cows and Lingo is his name oh

L-I-N-G-O .... L-I-N-G-O ......L-I-N-G-O

and Lingo is his name oh!

P.S. I liked Richard T. too.

[This message was edited by ohbehave on May 06, 2003 at 14:03.]

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i think it's "exlesia" ohbehind. glad you're feeling better. try to keep your believing up there.

johnnybingo who are you ? you sound like a familiar spirit

rockabye baby, what's shakin ?

[This message was edited by excathedra on May 07, 2003 at 10:55.]

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[This message was edited by tomtuttle on May 06, 2003 at 17:34.]

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[This message was edited by igotout on May 06, 2003 at 21:15.]

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Hegotoutbutcameinthroughthekitchenwindow icon_biggrin.gif:D--> icon_biggrin.gif:D-->

I just saw that great pic you posted of Donnie on the other thread. Man, that did make me cry! Sure miss him. Long ago, before the Way became sooooo unloving and unkind, a person could take other classes before taking Pfil. Well my very first class to ever take, in fact months before I took Pfil, was W & U by Donnie. It was an audio class and I think about 90% of it was laughter. We couldn't tell what Donnie was doing to make the people laugh since it was audio, but we laughed right along with them. He loved loved loved the people!

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Let's see now .. if memory serves me correctly I think it goes like this:

You put your right hand in .. you put your right out .. you put your right hand in and then you shake it all about .. you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around .. that's what its all about.

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Me thinketh some merry making fun maketh us more producktith.

Gosh, Sister Ex, I'm a shaken, of course at the fun that was had today.

so glad the semester over for niKa.

My kiddo lost the first game of her softball tournament today so the team is eliminated. Last year they won the hole ball of whacks, but this year they were missing several of their power players from 8th grade.

She's disappointed, but has the hope of being team captain next year and rallying her team from the start of the year.

Last night, her psych told me she's doing very well (which I knew, but need to still convince the men with black robe disease). (Black robe disease, I learnt today, is what happens to mostly good people when they are ordained to issue judgements over the masses...In AZ it starts in Superior Court).

Otherwise, things going well. Tnks.

Perhaps we should all practice our cyberhandshakin... and I don't mean parkinson's disease.

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By the way,how do you edit these messages,anyway?Not that I would want to...I personally believe everything I post is inspiration from God,and who wants to edit out God?

I only post when the spirit of God which is upon me....scratch that,...IN me,effervesces into divine utterance....WHATT I tipe iss gOds busniss,,THAHT i typpe iS myy busyneSs..i Moove mYy feengiRs,My ristS ande tHumms iN A langwidge nown tu be me anD yhe Wholly Gost givs mE yhe Woods.;/'

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How come nobody ever sends me a private message?

Went to my first PTA meeting last night.

By the time I'm done with the PTA, I'll be . . .

wait a minute, gotta take off my shoes for this . . .

okay, one hundred and seven.

Rocky, that black robe disease can be tough. Good luck with that one, bud.

[This message was edited by igotout on May 06, 2003 at 17:34.]

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Yougotitnow, with stammering lips and other tongues will I speak unto mah people, but what you posted was nothing but jibberish to the carnal man. Yet WE here on our red tire tread understand, that is, the spirit residing within us understands, and then teaches our minds.

For you babes, who are not of full age, who are in need of milk and not meat, that which hegotgas posted was a figure of speech. That's right!! This figure is called polynousfarts. God wants to emphasize the editing capability we have here on our tread. And Simon asks,"But Lord, how shall I edit, except some man should teach (guide) me??". That's IT!!!! Now we've learned something. If you don't know, don't indicate you DO know. It's no disgrace to know, uh, to NOT know. It's a disgrace to indicate you know when you really don't.

Simon, please list all your questions on paper. I will answer them all AFTER the 12th night of Christmas ...

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I'm a hope-in that much prayer and meditation, and scheemin and plannin will overcome the black robe syndrome in this case.

It's one of those intent, directed, reflected pondering things... thanks.

I bet the tattoo'd lady comes back with purple tattoos... that Lydia was some (one) foxy purple people.

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Lydia, oh Lydia,

that Encyclopydia,

Oh, Lydia the ta-HAA-tooed lady . . .

I just love Groucho Marx.

Why are today's kids so odd? Beats me. I don't even know why WE were so odd . . ..

Our fourteen-year-old recently revealed to us the musterion: she has a belly button ring. Her mother took her to get it a few weeks ago, and counselled her to keep it a secret from her father, mine wonderful husband.

When he learned of the belly-button ring, his response was "Well, I did much weirder stuff than that when I was your age."

He was not so happy to learn of the secret-keeping. I was downright . . . weeell, let's just say that I shook off my normal robe of easy-going-laid-backness.

Could it be that our kids are so weird because it's genetic?

Makes you kind of wonder about your parents' teenage years, huh?

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waaaaaaaaa-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

It's my one-hundredth post on Greasespot.

The seventeen-year-old just came over. I fit him with his Dad's tux, and will alter it just slightly. He will wear it on Saturday, to the high school prom.

I just have to type that again, because it feels so good: the high school prom.

When I met his dad, he was nine.

Where does the time go?

Now, he is the same age that I was when I got into the Way.

How terrified must my parents have been?

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I've had that kind of wonder...my stepson, a freshman at the UofArizona (college of mines and engineering, first semester dean's list) was 4 when I first met him.

Hope it's not too windy near Norman, and that your roof stays on....

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