Dear Mr. Peever,

Thank you very much for your letters. The Discovery Channel welcomes all types of feedback from its dedicated fans and seriously considers all recommendations. However, at this time we are unfortunately not able to honour your numerous requests and will not be expanding our famous Shark Week.

While the prospects of "Shark Month" and "Shark Semester" are enticing, we still feel that well-rounded and informative programming is more conducive to our mission. Your subsequent request of a "Shark Fortnight" was an improvement, but we're still confident that one week out of the year devoted entirely to sharks is enough.

"It was not long after Thanksgiving that I started getting terrible and constant headaches. My wife suggested that I go to the hospital and get checked out. 'Better safe than sorry,' she always cautioned. After a series of CAT scans and MRIs Dr. Rabinowitz, a Jew, broke the devastating news: Cancer."

"The winter of '67 was especially trying for my family. The mill closed that November so I was out of work again. Also, the Chinaman who was supposed to fix our furnace didn't do a good job. Not that I was expecting him to."

"I had finally managed to scrape together enough money for an engagement ring. I had to hock my beloved guitar in order to do so but seeing the look on Grace's face when I popped the question, I briefly forgot she was half Italian. It was beautiful."

"Her first weekend home from college, my daughter introduced us to her new boyfriend, Jamal. Terrific, I thought to myself, I guess we can kiss our VCR goodbye."

"On his seventh birthday Eldon, my youngest son, received a badminton set from a schoolmate of his. We had hardly finished dessert when a wayward shuttlecock caused him to put his racket through our sliding glass door. He was always such a clumsy cracker."

Tiz da seeson...

Hey everyone! So I was flipping through some old photos and I found this one. It’s a picture of my ant-farm the day after I got my dog.

[upload:2352752:small:left:Point - Who's a puppy?]POINT - Who's a puppy? Is it you? Is it? Hmm? Is hims a puppy? I think you are! Yes you are! Yes! Who's mommy's sweet little angel? A-boo-boo-doo-boo-doo-boo!

Yes! Ohh come here snookums and give mommy a big kiss! Oh, hims just wuvs giving mommy kisses, doesn't hims? You do, don't you! I think you do! Ooh-boo-doo-boo-boo-boo!

Parker Brothers recently released an all new "honest" Monopoly board. This new version cuts through all the bullsh*t of the regular board and allows players to experience the game the way it was meant to be played.

from Jenjen98@gmail.com
to Chrisrocks@hotmail.com
date Sep 3, 2007 4:54 PM
subject Hey!

Hey Chris,

So nice seeing you at the HS Reunion. Go Bobcats! It’s always nice running into you whenever I’m back in town. Except for when you talk about middle school. Which you always do. LOL. I mean it’s fine, but well sometimes it gets annoying. Especially last night at the reunion when you told the story like ten times. You know, the “ I was the guy responsible for Jen’s first orgasm…and it was at a movie theater. Haha!” story. I hate it. Mainly because it’s not true. I’m sorry Chris, but I never got off when we went to see My Father The Hero in 1994. Anyway you repeat that story aloud every time I see you no matter where we are, or who I’m with and it’s NOT true. I never got off in that movie theater, in fact it was the most painful ninety minutes of my entire life. Whew, so glad to finally get that off my chest! Go Bobcats! : )

~Jen

A man clutches his chest and keels over into the aisle.

Stewardess: OH MY GOD! IS THERE A DOCTOR ON THIS FLIGHT?

Doctor: I'm a doctor. Step aside.

Stewardess: Is there anything you need?

Doctor:  Yes. Is there a nurse on this flight?!

Nurse: I'm a nurse.

Doctor: Dammit, there's no time, he stopped breathing. And if we don't act fast, we'll lose him.

Nurse: He's gone.

Stewardess: What? How?

Nurse: Is there a pathologist on this flight?!

Pathologist: I'm a pathologist.

Doctor: Any ideas?

Pathologist: From the way he fell it looked like a myocardial infarction. We won't know for sure until the results come back from the lab.

Stewardess: Wanna dumb that down for me? I'm not a rocket scientist.

Rocket Scientist: A heart attack.

Stewardess: Wow. A rocket scientist, a doctor, a nurse, a pathologist. What are the odds?!

Statistician: Roughly 1 in 140,000.

Doctor: Is there a pilot on this flight?

Pilot: Of course.

Doctor: We're going to need to turn this plane around.

Pilot: What about the career fair?

Career Fair Coordinator: I guess that can wait.

Mr. Sanders: So we're agreed then.
Randy: We're agreed.
Cynthia: Can we go over it one more time for the class?
Mr. Sanders: This isn't hard, Cynthia. Tomorrow during gym, we're doing "trust falls," and when Wendell goes, we'll all move out of the way so he falls on his back.
Randy: You guys get it?
Class: Yeah.
Cynthia: Isn't this dangerous? Wendell could get seriously hurt.
Randy: That's the idea.
Cynthia: Don't you think he might figure out that we're conspiring against him?
Mr. Sanders: You think we haven't thought of that? That's why we're all going to do a trust fall. Wendell will watch as each one of you guys gets caught by your classmates. That way, when he goes, he won't suspect a thing.
Randy: This may paralyze him.
Tucker: That would be so boss.

Mr. Sanders nods.

Cynthia: It's not fair, why do we just pick on Wendell, is it because he's so smart?
Randy: Yes.
Cynthia: And you're jealous because you wish you were as smart and good at math and science as Wendell is?
Randy: Of course.
Cynthia: Now I get it.
Mr. Sanders: If Wendell were a real genius he would skip gym class tomorrow.
Tucker: What about his perfect GPA?
Randy: Guess Wendell has a real conundrum on his hands.
Cynthia: He could always get a note.
Mr. Sanders: Yes I suppose so, he could get a note.
Tucker: That sounds like his best bet.
Cynthia: Where is Wendell, I want to have sex with him.
Randy: He's off fighting dragons.
Cynthia: (gushing) He's so brave

Me: What do you want to do tonight, babe?

Her: I don't know. Let's go down to the basement and talk about it.

Me: Why do you always want to go to the basement? It's dark, and wet, and gross.

Her: Ugh, you're so not spontaneous.

We hear shattered glass and heavy breathing.

Me: Did you hear that?

Her: Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?

Me: Nine’s enough.

Her: Quick, turn off the lights!

Me: Turn them off? Why?

Her: That’s what it said to do in the forbidden videotape I watched to calm down after I was in that hit-and-run.

Me: Why don’t we go to Chili’s and – wait, what?

Her: Hey, there's some kind of tunnel over here that leads underground! And a trail of what appears to be red paint… I love art! Let's see where it leads.

Nothing is quite as satisfying as building and displaying your own model. Today we will be building 1:48 scale Huey Hog chopper. You will need a modeling knife and plastic cement, as well as the included paints and decals. Let's begin:

---

1. Cut two halves of helicopter body (fig.1 and fig. 2) from plastic net A.

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2. Shave plastic nubs from helicopter blades A, B, C, and D.

---

3. Glue body halves (fig. 1 and 2) together.

Consult your box side panel for details.

World of Warcraft
- Pentium 4 processor 2.4 ghz
- 512mb RAM
- desire to stay indoors for abnormal amounts of time

Microsoft Access
- 170 Mb of Disk Space
- A boring job

MacBook
- Internet Connection
- $2000
- Sense of superiority

I was able to beta test this new cutting edge technology. Not all the kinks are worked out, but these screenshots are pretty revealing...