Cybersalt News

You've probably heard about "tryptophan" - that wonderful sleepy ingredient in turkey.  Did you also know it's a turkey multiplier?  The proof is at:
www.cybersalt.org/funny-pictures/turkey-multiplication

Enjoy the rest of today's mailing.

Worst Horse Ever

A jockey is in the parade ring discussing race tactics with the horse's trainer. The trainer tells the jockey that this is the worst horse he has ever seen. It has had 23 races and finished last in every one of them. If it doesn't win today the milkman will be using it for deliveries in the morning.

The jockey mounts up and takes the horse down to the start.

The race begins and the horse is immediately 10 lengths behind the pack. So the jockey gives the horse an sharp thwap on the shoulder.

Nothing.

He then gives him a series of strikes on the rump.

Nothing.

He then gives him two wallops right on the hindquarters.

The horse comes to a sudden stop, turns to the jockey and says "Give it a rest with that whip, will ya, buddy? I have to be up at four in the morning to deliver milk."

One-liner #0770

"Human Relations: For every action, there is a corresponding overreaction."

Paul McCartney Song

"I remember that Paul McCartney song like it was yesterday."

Quote #1223

"Be Yourself. Everyone else is already taken."
- Oscar Wilde

The Deeds Undone

"The Deeds Undone"

It isn't the thing you do, friend, it's the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you the bitter heartache, at the setting of the sun:
The tender words unspoken, to letter you did not write,
The flowers you might have sent, are your haunting ghosts at night.

The stone you might have lifted, out of a dear friend's way,
The bit of heartsome counsel you were hurried too much to say:
The loving touch of a helping hand, the gentle and winsome tone,
That you had no time or thought for, with troubles enough of your own.

These little acts of kindness, so easily out of mind,
These chances to be angels, which even mortals find.
They come in night and silence, each chill reproachful wraith,
When hope is faint and flagging, and a blight has dropped on faith.

For life is all too short, friend, and sorrow is all to great,
To suffer our slow compassion, that tarries until too late.
So, it's not the things you do, it's the deeds you leave undone,
Which gives you a bitter heartache, at the setting of the sun.
- Bertha A. Lawson