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An elderly couple was on a cruise and it was really stormy. They were standing on the back of the boat watching the moon, when a wave came up and washed the old man overboard.

They searched for days and couldn’t find him, so the Captain sent the old woman back to shore, with the promise that he would notify her as soon as they found something.

Three weeks went by and finally, the old woman got a fax from the boat. It read: Ma’am, sorry to inform you that we found your husband dead, at the bottom of the ocean.

We hauled him up to the deck, and attached to his butt was an oyster, and inside it was a pearl worth $50,000….please advise.

The old woman faxed back: Send me the pearl and re-bait the trap.

Dear Friend: Just a line to say I’m living…
That I’m not among the dead,

Though I’m getting more forgetful
And mixed up in the head.

I got used to my arthritis,
To my dentures I’m resigned,

I can manage my bifocals,
But Lord… how I miss my mind!!!

Sometimes I can’t remember
When I stand at the foot of the stairs.

If I must go up for something…
Or if I’ve just come down from there,

I stand before the fridge at times,
My poor mind filled with doubt,

Have I come to put food away,
Or come to take some out?

There are times when it is dark out,
And with my nightcap on my head,

I don’t know if I’m retiring…
Or just getting out of bed.

So if it’s my turn to write you,
There’s no need for getting sore,

I may think that I have written
And don’t want to be a bore.

I do know that I miss you
And wish that you were near.

And now it’s nearly mail time
So I must say goodbye, my dear.

Now I’m standing beside the mail box
With a face so red,

Instead of mailing you my letter …
I have opened it instead!!!

The elderly Italian man went to his parish priest and asked if the priest would hear his confession.
“Of course, my son,” said the priest.
“Well, Father, at the beginning of World War Two, a beautiful woman knocked on my door and asked me to hide her from the Germans. I hid her in my attic, and they never found her.”
“That’s a wonderful thing, my son, and nothing that you need to confess,” said the priest.
“It’s worse, Father. I was weak, and told her that she had to pay for rent of the attic by giving me a little lovin’ now and then,” continued the old man.
“Well, it was a very difficult time, and you took a large risk – you would have suffered terribly at their hands if the Germans had found you hiding her. I know that God, in his wisdom and mercy, will balance the good and the evil, and judge you kindly,” said the priest.
“Thanks, Father,” said the old man. “That’s a load off of my mind. Can I ask another question?”
“Of course, my son,” said the priest.
The old man asked, “Do I have to tell her that the war is over?”

A older woman down south goes into the local newspaper office to see that the obituary for her recently deceased husband is properly written. (She had always been known for her accuracy to details, second only to her famous sense of thrift.) Only his beloved pickup truck remained to remind her of his presence.
The obit editor informs her that the fee for the obituary is 50 cents a word. She pauses, reflects and then says, “Well then, let it read, ‘Billy Bob died.”
Although amused at the woman’s cleverness, the editor says, “Sorry ma’am there is a 7 word minimum on all obituaries.”
This causes her to become only a little flustered, so she thinks things over for a few seconds. “In that case,” she says, “let it read, ‘Billy Bob died, 1983 Pickup for sale.’”

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we’re kids?
If you’re less than 10 years old, you’re so excited about aging that you think in fractions. How old are you?. “I’m four and a half. You’re never 36 and a half. You’re four and a half going on five!
That’s the key. You get into your teens, now they can’t hold you back. You jump to the next number. How old are you? “I’m gonna be 16.” You could be 12, but you’re gonna be 16.
And then the greatest day of your life happens, you become 21. Even the words sound like a ceremony: You BECOME 21! YES!
But then you turn 30. Ooohhh what happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk. He TURNED, we had to throw him out. There’s no fun now.
What’s wrong? What changed? You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then you’re PUSHING 40. Stay over there, it’s all slipping away!
You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, you’re PUSHING 40, you REACH 50 And your dreams are gone.
Then you MAKE IT to 60. You didn’t think you’d make it! So you BECOME 21, you TURN 30, you’re PUSHING 40, you REACH 50, you MAKE IT to 60. Then you build up so much speed you HIT 70!
After that, it’s a day by day thing. After that, you HIT Wednesday.
You get into your 80′s, you HIT lunch. My grandmother won’t even buy green bananas. It’s an investment you know, and maybe a bad one.
And it doesn’t end there. Into the 90′s you start going backwards.
I was JUST 92.
Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again: “I’m 100 and a half!”



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