Please be patient and .............

We laugh and we giggle and smile at our screen,

We sit back and wonder what this could all mean !

We surf the Web, we travel afar,

We span thousands of mile without a car.

We watch conversations

flowing on the screen,

We tell jokes and stories and know what they mean.

What are we looking for ? Where's the attraction ?

How can we do this and get satisfaction ?

Who are we ?

Why are we here ?

We are " the Circle of Friends ", made from a chain.

And we're here because friendship is what we gain !

Born on-line formed by few,

We had no idea just what to do.

So we are linking our pages, first one then two,

And wonder where we'll end up when we are through ?

The Circle will spread, like a wild vine,

It will breathe and whisper like the winds of time.

We are the Circle of Friends , made from a chain,

All of our motives are exactly the same.

Searching for friendships all over the lands,

Linking our pages is like holding hands.

We are 'the Circle of Friends',

made from a chain,

A chain of cable and wire without an end.

Ahead of him is a guy who's dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket, and jeans.

Saint Peter addresses this guy, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?"

The guy replies, "I'm Joe Cohen, taxi-driver, of Noo Yawk City."

Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to the taxi-driver, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and Enter the Kingdom."

The taxi-driver goes into Heaven with his robe and staff.

Next it's the minister's turn. He stands erect and booms out,

"I am Joseph Snow, pastor of Saint Mary's for the last 43 years."

Saint Peter consults his list. He says to the minister, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom."

"Just a minute," says the minister. "That man was a taxi-driver and he gets a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?"

"Up here, we work by results," says Saint Peter.

"While you preached, people slept; while he drove, people prayed."

He rolls over and looks at his clock, and it's half past three in the morning.

"I'm not getting out of bed at this time", he thinks, and rolls over.

Then, a louder knock follows. "Aren't you going to answer that?" says his wife.

So he drags himself out of bed, and goes downstairs.

He opens the door and there is man standing at the door. It didn't take the homeowner long to realize the man was drunk.

"Hi there." slurs the stranger, "Can you give me a push??"

"No, get lost, it's half past three. I was in bed." says the man and slams the door.

He goes back up to bed and tells his wife what happened and she says,

"Dave, that wasn't very nice of you. Remember that night we broke down in the pouring rain on the way to pick the kids up from the baby-sitter and you had to knock on that man's house to get us started again? What would have happened if he'd told us to get lost??"

"But the guy was drunk." says the husband.

"It doesn't matter." says the wife. "He needs our help and it would be the Christian thing to help him."

So the husband out of bed again, gets dressed, and goes downstairs. He opens the door, and not being able to see the stranger anywhere he shouts:

"Hey, do you still want a push??" and he hears a voice cry out "Yeah please."

So, still being unable to see the stranger he shouts:

"Where are you?"

And the stranger replies: "I'm over here, on your swing."

wayhome, he was looking at the things she had purchased. He found a

package of panty hose and began to sound out the words "QUEEN SIZE."

He then turned to his grandmother and exclaimed, "Look Grandma, You

wear the same size as our waterbed!"

the morning worship hour. The parents did their best to maintain

somesense

of order in the pew but were losing the battle. Finally the father

picked the little fellow up and walked sternly up the aisle on his way

out. Just before reaching the safety of the foyer the little

onecalled loudly to the congregation, "Pray for me! Pray for me!"

...JUST MATURE

Today at the drugstore, the clerk was a gent.

From my purchase this chap took off ten percent.                

I asked for the cause of a lesser amount;

And he answered, "Because of the Seniors Discount."

I went to McDonald's for a burger and fries;

And there, once again, got quite a surprise.

The clerk poured some coffee which he handed to me.

He said, "For you, Seniors, the coffee is free."

Understand---I'm not old---I'm merely mature;

But some things are changing, temporarily, I'm sure.

The newspaper print gets smaller each day,

And people speak softer---can't hear what they say.

My teeth are my own (I have the receipt.),

and my glasses identify people I meet.

Oh, I've slowed down a bit...not a lot, I am sure.

You see, I'm not old...I'm only mature.

The gold in my hair has been bleached by the sun.

You should see all the damage that chlorine has done.

Washing my hair has turned it all white,

But don't call it gray...saying "blond" is just right.

My car is all paid for...not a nickel is owed.

Yet a kid yells, "Old duffer...get off of the road!"

My car has no scratches...not even a dent.

Still I get all that guff from a punk who's "Hell bent."

My friends all get older...much faster than me.

They seem much more wrinkled, from what I can see.

I've got "character lines," not wrinkles...for sure,

But don't call me old...just call me mature.

The steps in the houses they're building today

Are so high that they take...your breath all away;

And the streets are much steeper than ten years ago.

That should explain why my walking is slow.

But I'm keeping up on what's hip and what's new,

And I think I can still dance a mean boogaloo.

I'm still in the running...in this I'm secure,

I'm not really old...I'm only mature.

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