7/01/07 

I had a major technical glitch in the June posting which I discovered just as I was going to bed. It took me until 1am to figure out what was wrong. All fixed now then. I got all (okay, lots) of my chaos out of my system with last months display. Other than duck song (jump to the turn off  here) sanity returns to these pages (such as that is.)

 
7/02/07 

I had a rough day physically today. Spent most of it on the couch. Although, now armed with the laptop and cordless mouse that isn't the sentence it was a few months back. But still not a pleasant way to spend the day.

A bright spot though was getting an email from Bob Dutton containing many anecdotes. As promised any stories emailed to garth.bigelow@gmail.com with the subject line 'anecdote' are posted without revision in the Anecdotes From Others section. But the email brought back so many memories that I really wanted to comment all through it, so I will do that here:

• I was going to tell the story of Bob and his "stuffed" dog but I never got around to it. It's true their dog was very old and never moved. I thought it was weird for people to keep and especially move a stuffed dog around, but I kept an eye on it and longer I did the more convinced I became. Until one day he did move, and scared the crap out of me.

• The garage Bob refers to we called the Barn. My brother redid it as a house and lived there for many years.

• As it seems with many things comedy on record is another I remember Bob experiencing me to. I remember him introducing me to Firesign Theater ("Don't Crush that Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers") and George Carlin and the like. Bob also fostered my great love of show tunes.

• The Red Crepe was another story in the back on mind to tell if I get back in the mood to tell anecdotes. I confess, I was moving the crepe around. Oddly, I remember this event so clearly.

• The Memory Book list: Dee's of Falmouth, 1849, a public restroom, surprise midnight clam bake, Vaseline Petroleum Jelly (I remember Bob laughed at my using the full form of its name). I think the list held ten or twelve. Even with my memory in taters I can still pull up half that list 30 years later.

• The sex poll was a Q.U.E. production (don't ask, I don't think I could explain adequately if I tried) which resulted largely from Chris Oliver and I constantly trying to out do each other in what we could get away with.

• I still find it hard to believe that I got Bob into theater and not the other way around.

• I fondly remember our outings to Boston to see plays and movies. I don't remember the large ones with Duncan Ross (perhaps I didn't attend those) but I dearly remember the others. I also remember the Polynesian although the chair eludes my mental grasp.

• A great collection of memories that spurred others to mind and hopefully I will make the time to get some of them down in electrons for posterity.

 
7/04/07 

In my childhood I began to notice that any newspaper story that I knew the details of personally bore little or no resemblance to the events in the story. Later when the Internet came about and I was able to dig deeper into events I found that nearly any news story I delved into was distorted on the nightly news and I stopped watching broadcast news.

The bulk of my news comes from the Internet, and occasionally USA Today as I like to have something to read when eating out alone. I also enjoy the Daily Show, which a sad percentage of my starter news (the starting point to spring into an Interest research venture from) comes from. Anyway, long winded start to the fact that I was watching the Daily Show this morning and the guest turns out to be NBC News Anchor Brain Williams - whom because I never watch the news, I have not seen and barely know anything about. Turns out he was hilarious. Very quick witted and well spoken (you'd expect that from a news anchor but anyone who has ever watched Dan Rather on a talk show knows that isn't always the case), it almost makes me want to peak in on broadcast news for an episode or two.

 
7/05/07 

A small insignificant end of an era occurred today. When I use to live on the road, I would collect the unused soaps at the better hotels and motels (or the better soaps anyway) and shampoos and toss them in a blue cooler box my sister had given me one year that also contained just about anything one might need for hygiene under any situation. It was about saving money, it was about having good soap at hotels that offered crappy soap. Still we acquired much more soap than we ever used. Over the years and miles some of the lesser soaps powdered and escaped their wrappings making a holy mess of the container. Tracy, being the complete opposite of me when it came to order and often needing projects to occupy herself (once on the Island she alphabetized and relabeled my hundreds of videos tapes while I was out on a job), took all the soaps stacked them in Ziploc bags and cleaned the container up. After that we kept packing the soaps in additional Ziploc bags.

When I quit being on the road, I had scores of bags, and haven't had to buy soap since. Well today I used the last bar of soap from the last bag. It is a strange thing to get misty over, but it just feels like the end of an era.

 
7/06/07 

Not much to talk about today. I went out and bought shoes. That was highlight of the day. I noticed the other day that not only were my feet sliding around inside my shoes as they had almost always been, but now the shoes were falling apart. When did size 11 & 1/2 vanish. I went to four different stores. All sizes from 5 to 10 all had half sizes too, but in all four stores it then jumped from 11 to 12. I wear, of course, an 11 1/2. I finally found a tight 12 I was happy with at Target. I also found a 3 DVD set of "What the Bleep Do We Know?" with hours of extras. Even though I was hell bent on not buying any more DVDs - I couldn't resist getting this one.

Exactly one month until Tracy visits :)

 
7/07/07 

Having stayed away from Grams for a week, we returned this sunny Saturday. We were greeted by the news that Sheila is going to be with us until February, as her Naval training has been deferred until them. I had my camera with me in hopes of catching a picture of Marshall Park, and took the opportunity to snap a couple of shots of her. I felt rather out of it and barely in the conversations. Luckily Dan took up the slack and kept people talking.

Thankfully it had clouded over a bit and I followed through with my idea of walking home through Marshall Park. A year ago, I wrote about how it was flooded.  And a few months ago I talked about it being almost dry. Now the last drop of water is gone. Marshall Pond, lately Marshall Swamp is now Marshall Field. Is Marshall Forest that far away?

 
7/13/07 

I've been playing a lot of strategy games online. Mostly I've been playing puzzles against the computer, but I'm also playing several games of Risk against real people. I can't tell if I am playing more because my mind is feeling sharper or if my mind is sharper because I am flexing it with the puzzles. Either way it feels good.

Today was my third visit to the masseuse. The second trip we tried something different and it didn't improve the situation any. But today we returned to concentrating on the arms and shoulders  and used the zapping device to despasm the more intense knots (she has repeated told me the name of the device but it will not stick in my memory.) I feel 100% better today. She does not think that the pain in my arms and shoulders is my joints. She thinks it is a pinched nerve deep in the knot clusters surrounding my upper neck. This is excellent news as, unlike bursitis or arthritis we can do something about this and in a few more visits should be able relieve this particular pain completely - just in time for my cruise too.

I was mildly bummed out for a bit that I wouldn't be around to see Hillary not win the Presidency. Today it occurred to me that the way things seem to be shaping up she might lose the primary in time for me to go peacefully :)

Things seem to be picking up on the business front, so hopefully all my ducks are in a row now for enjoying the days to come.

I still couldn't have done it without the continued help of Mary K, Joe Bob and my Mother.

 
7/14/07

I've been thinking about labels a lot lately. If asked to describe my religious affiliation, I'll usually respond Discordian. And I do believe that being a disciple of Chaos has some merit. I believe it is a part of the picture best summed up as subject universe - that the universe is a collective cohesion of our thoughts and beliefs. But the real reason I say Discordian is avoid saying Agnostic. Why do I not wish to be labeled an Agnostic? Because the word has such wishy-washy connotations. It implies a lack of decision. And much the way I view moderates in politics. Issues have sides. To be a moderate is to say you have no opinions, beliefs and/or cares. I view such laziness or lack of thought or concern with scorn, I view most Agnostics the same way. Most wish to have it all ways, or don't want to think about it.

I am an Agnostic. But firmly - I believe that the universe was most likely created by something, for some purpose. I believe extremely strongly, that we humans have no way at all of knowing what that purpose was for, whether we were intended outcome, and most certainly if we were what if anything it expects/expected of us. We need another label for that belief. Until then, I'm a Discordian through and though.

 
7/15/07

Not much getting done.

I did learn two new words though: 'collywobbles' and 'catawumpus.' I leave it to you to look them up just as I had to. It took three different dictionary sites to get the latter.

 
7/16/07

My mother's monthly check finally arrived today. Only took the government 15 days to deliver it. I guess having ever less mail to deliver, while not being able to fire employees is really taking its toll on their efficiency (sigh). Technically I had already used up this money but I felt like a decent meal and Dan and I went to Harrys. Harrys, always makes me miss Benjamins, but other than that I enjoyed myself. We were the only customers at first. Our waitress, Bobbie, was working the place alone and after a few more people showed up she kept apologizing for the service. Dan and I joked to ourselves that eating at Grams had really lowered our expectations; seeing as the service seemed fine to us.

I'm always on the lookout for a good domain name. On the way home 'dipshit' came up in conversation. While I was certain that dipshit.com would be taken (a porn site of course) I thought their was just enough of a snowball's chance to make looking up dipshit.org worthwhile. Maybe I could start an anti-Hillary site there or something. True to it's name, this is what I encountered:

For some reason, I'm the only one that finds this amusing.

While out I read a great newspaper opinion piece on the Separation of Church and State.

 
7/18/07

I had stayed up until almost 4am playing a civilization building game that Dan found. Thankfully I did not wake up at 7am.

Shaun finally came over around 6pm with his XBox which has been converted into a bit-torrent movie playing monster. And we ended up watching three movies. I've already forgotten the first one, the second "Blur" was pretty bad, and we finished up with "Hot Fuzz" which was as good as I had heard it was. I went to bed at 2am and awoke at 10:30.

By the way, if I did not mention it earlier, "Black Snake Moan" is my "Hard Candy" for this year. Don't miss it.

 
7/19/07

I heard back from Bob Dutton today. We are getting together on Sunday.

As I think I've expounded upon before I've noticed a trend that I lost a lot of friends when they learned that I was terminal. I had mostly chalked this up to people not wanting to face there own mortality.

Through stumbles, I have been conversing with a woman in Wales with MS. She uses the name Bethra. Through her posts of the last few days I have glimpsed another level of this phenomena. I'll let the posts speak for themselves: (Bethra's are on green, my replies on white.)

I realize that this is transgressing into metablogging. She emails pieces of her blog which then go into my blog and vice-versa. But hopefully you will find it instructive rather than self indulgent.

 
7/20/07

For the past two weeks I've been trying to pay my Sales Tax with the State. I owe just over $12. I only have to pay every quarter - this was the first time. Any one that knows me well, knows how I hate dealing with the Government. Here's an excellent example why:

• After less trouble than I expected I find the online payment site.

• I enter in the needed information to setup an account and link it to my bank account.

• The interface looks like it was written by school children back in the 80s.

• It crashes with an apache server error three times, each time wiping out all the data I have entered so that I have to enter it all back in.

• I wait a half hour between retries.

• On the fourth pass it fails to crash and says I will have an account in 3 business days. Why, when every other site on the planet can link to a bank account in real time, they take three days I do not know. I do not ask, I'm just happy it finally took the data. Who would I ask anyway? It's probably some dumb piece of legislation to stop terrorists from instantly paying their taxes.

• 3 business days later my ID and password are still invalid.

• Ditto on the 4th day.

• After a week I email the State - not really expecting a reply. To my surprise I receive an answer the next day. It explains that their server crashed (apparently just like the other 3 times I tried, but see that I wasn't going away it decided to inform me everything was fine instead (bad bad coding, maybe it was school children in the seventies.)) I'm informed that they have taken care of it manually and I'll have my account in 3 business days.

• I give it four. This time it takes my ID and password, fills in the correct info and opens a spread sheet for me to fill in the tax info into.

• I, of course, can not longer remember where I put the tax info and have figure it all out from scratch. The irrational anger begins to build. I HATE being the Government's bookkeeper. I truly HATE funding policies and practices that I not only think are deliberately immoral, but that are undermining the fabric of this country. These cyclic thoughts are simmering in the background but growing.

• I recalculate what revenue the in-state customers have paid to me, so that I can pass this on the State so that it afford more actions to restrict my freedoms and mis-educate our children.

• I decipher which spreadsheet cells are supposed to contain what, and notice that it doesn't actually do any useful calculations for you (the normal function of a spreadsheet.)

• I double check my work and press Submit.

• 'Apache Server Error!'

• The simmer boils a little faster.

• I have neglected to make exact notes on the sales figures. I refigure it AGAIN and take careful notes this time.

• I reenter the information. Only one cell has memory (just enough to show that they had the capability but not the care to fully implement it)

• 'Apache Server Error!'

• There is one other button (Save and Submit Later.) With undue optimism, I reenter all the information and press this other button.

• 'Apache Server Error!'

• The angry is boiling strong now.

• I look for that email reply that I received to get the email address so I could vent at the only person potentially listening.

• I have too many email accounts and I can't locate it.

• Suddenly every computer I have is running some background task leaping in my way and/or slowing the computers down.

• FLASH POINT!

• I hurl the mouse at the keyboard in a primitive urge to do it injury. The mouse bounces and nails my fingernail in a painful way.

• In an effort not to destroy expensive equipment I run for the garage and wail on the punching bag incoherently, not even stopping to put on the gloves.

• I stop when I'm spent, hands bloody and arms throbbing.

• I lean against the kitchen counter until I catch my breath, and I am at least in sight of my sanity.

• I clean and bandage my knuckles.

• Still angry I dig through the area the 'pay by mail' tax info might be, tossing things around with fervor.

• I step on a screw and hurl it across at the kitchen door. My arms scream. (I would later step on it again in front of the stove.)

• Thankfully I find the bloody tax forms relatively quickly and with a minimum of destruction.

• I sit down and calmly fill out the form (noting it barely resembles the onscreen form at all.), write the check and stamp the envelope.

Dan has retreated to his bedroom from the moment I threw the mouse.

The anger turns to funk but does not vanish. I want to talk to Tracy, but she is in Africa. I email Bethra, but the time difference makes it late over there. I try to call my mom. She's not home (for a nearly bed bound old lady, she gets around a lot.) I try to watch TV, but can't get into it. I do some work on Lloyd's site, but there isn't much to do there. My mind keeps falling back to food but nothing sounds interesting. This makes me wonder how depressed I am.

I decide to eat in, and look for the emergency ravioli - Dan has eaten it. Okay, peanut butter toast, just something to take my pills with. Nope, no bread. I think I got 6 slices out of the three loaves we bought. Admittedly there isn't a lot to eat around the house, but I had had hopes that Dan would have either:

• Expanded our sales fronts to where he was making money.

• Gotten a job.

• Looked into food stamps, assistance, etc (just because I won't do it myself doesn't mean I try to stop others)

As long as he's filling the orders, and making my life easier and safer he has roof over his head. But the food situation is starting to annoy me. He's eating about 3 times what I feel he should and not putting in the effort to expand his resources, spending a great deal of his time playing video games and reading in his room. Have I said anything? Of course not. But now I've written this which is pretty much the same thing.

I know I'm not doing much if any work at the moment, but I've secured my income and credit with redundancies to make it through to the end (in a way, how those events play out determine when the end is.) so I can relax and enjoy. I'm relying on two people, my mother and Joe Bob, both of whom feel fine with their end of the deal. The Internet and my vigilance handles the rest.

Dan never comes out of his room and give up and go to bed around 10pm.

 
7/21/07

Today I am having the trifecta of dark: funk, hallucinations and pain:

1. My funk from yesterday has not lessened and if anything has tightened its grip.

2. The ceilings have storm clouds, and while not lightning, sparks arcing within them. While I'm brushing my teeth a winged millipede slowly crawls across the sink counter. I try to crush it with the handle tip of my toothbrush but I miss and the thing goes into hyper-drive and hides under my shaver caddy (which is flush against the counter.) I lift the caddy but nothing is there. I'm uncertain if this is real or not. I've never seen anything like it before, and it got under an object it shouldn't have been able to. It isn't until later when I see lots of these bugs that I know for certain they are imaginary. Better outside me, than under my skin is all I can say - so for that I'm grateful.

3. And lastly my muscles hurt like hell from yesterdays frenzy and the previous days seizure attack.

Dan's in a depression so we are wisely staying out of each other's way so as not to feed on each others negativity. I ditch him and start off to  breakfast alone. The storm clouds are not out in the open, but they are in the car. Thankfully they are hanging close to where the ceiling should be and not impairing my sight. I debate whether I should be driving. I have an ethical dilemma when it comes to driving. My nephew Lance was killed by an impaired (read: drunk) driver. And I have to weigh whether I am safe to drive, verses giving up the freedom of transportation. While I make the wrong call some day? Will I be too impaired to know it? These thoughts weigh on me, but not yet enough to give up my freedom completely and the driving decision is made on a day by day basis.

Grams is crowded, but the noise doesn't bother me as much as it should. I flinch from the odd bark of laughter or loud clash of dishware but otherwise I am fascinated by the ominous storm clouds on the ceiling which are much blacker, thicker and denser in the higher ceiling and distracted by trying not resist shushing away the non-existent winged millipedes.

I normally avoid symptom masking drugs but today I went for the extra Xanax (my normal 2mg last night and an extra 2mg this morning and I'm not even feeling it - which is frightening in and of itself) and bummed some aspirin from Sheila. Sheila, by the way, is wearing some braless number with support built in the shirt which really shows off her assets. I notice but am not interested. I spend some time concerned by this.

After breakfast I notice the clouds are thinning a little and the bugs are mostly hiding. I decide it best to wait out their banishment. I drink my ice tea and pretend to read my paper (can't concentrate past a few sentences of any story.) Eventually the bugs are gone but the clouds appear to be in for the long haul.

I can't make myself go back to the house. I need to get some sun (how weird is that) and out and aboutness. I decide to go to Publix - we need soap. I end up buying $100 worth of food, mostly frozen. The clouds in Publix are huge (very high ceilings) and the sparks arc to the tops of the grocery shelves. Very entertaining. My balance is off; I notice I've got a CP-like gait going on. I don't give a damn. Being out seems to have lifted to the funk.

 
7/22/07

Sunday morning and Dan's bedroom door is still closed. I wait until 10:30 and then go to Grams on my own. My mind is clear today. Very clear in fact. I take Gödel, Bach and Escher and attempt to make sense of another few paragraphs while I eat my breakfast. As I finish I remember that Bob Dutton is coming some time after noon. I am looking forward to this.

The car's clock is not right again. It seems to be resetting sometime during the night. It doesn't seem to be a battery problem as the car starts with confidence. I resolve to call Fred and tap his many years of auto expertise. Of course, I forget.

Bob calls once to say he is on his way, and again to ask for clarification on how to get here.

Of all the people from High School I've remet over the years Bob looks the most like his high school self (except possibly me, but then I'm probably far from objective about that.) He looks very much like he use to except that he looks a bit more like his brother David now. We talked for hours. I expected more reminiscing than we did. We talked mostly about where we were now in our lives, our philosophies on life and the future to come than we did on the past.

I very much enjoyed the visit and hopefully the promises of repeats in the near future will come to pass.

 
7/23/07

My mind is clear, but off. Something hard to describe - a little like my balance is off but more like time is speeding up and slowing down a lot and rapidly. But in regards to thought, my mind is almost as clear as yesterday and I hit the ground running.

Today I am going to learn how to make a Map Menu in HTML. I learn two things very quickly. A) The coding is very simple and straightforward and B) You don't want to do that coding by hand.

While simple, figuring out the coordinates is something best suited to a program. A few minutes with Google scores me one. A pretty nice one: MapEdit. Free unrestricted use for 30 days. I need it for one. Designing the map (the one at the top of every page that replaced the Tab Menu that I never liked that replaced the framing system confused Googles ranking algorithm (and if you are reading this in the future it may have again been replaced by something else, but probably not because I quite like this one)) took a sizeable portion of the day. Mapping the coordinates took the rest, but by dinner time I was testing it and it was working.

As hard as I thought that was turning out to be easy, was the complete inverse of how easy I thought the hard task of changing the cursor hand button turned out to be, Eventually I decided it was just too much overhead for such a subtle effect.

Around 8pm Dan and I started watching Blood Diamonds. This is not a good movie to watch while a loved one is out of communication in Africa.

I didn't sleep well and I awoke early. Time was when that would send me to the TV until noon. Lately I head for the computer. No emails, no stumblers writing, and no orders.

With the menu map complete the old GarthBigelow.com logo just didn't fit the style any more. Bereft of communication, I turn to designing a new logo. Its never smart for me to do computer work when I haven't slept well and it took me a long time to get it designed and even longer to get it to center properly in Internet Explorer and Firefox. I kept getting it to work in one or the other and eventually in both. I hope you like the look. All I need to learn now is how to preload those images before the rest of the page.

With incredible timing, considering my concern from last night's movie, Tracy emails me. Very short, just saying she is doing well. But it eases my unease.

Vic calls me, he's worried because JennyVision.com is down. I check and sure enough he's right. A few quick clicks and I determine Register4Less.com is down, even their website itself. Nothing I can do about it, hopefully it will be fixed in a couple of hours. Looking at the log, I see there have been no clicks today at all. I wonder just how long the server has been down. I turn off the advertising. No reason to waste money

I have PT at 3pm. Its a little sunny, but a good day for driving. Sadly when I get there, I learn my appointment was for tomorrow at 2pm. A forty minute trip for nothing. And when I check the calendar back at home, sure enough Wednesday at 2pm. If I had simply checked rather than trusting my memory. Ah well, live and don't learn. I stop at Grams on the way home and have a very late second breakfast. A cook I didn't see, by a name I'm not familiar with served up an my regular done exceptionally tasty.

Bethra has been quiet, no emails to me, no posts on StumbleUpon since the 22nd. Unusual of late. I try to hope that this is from a burst of feeling good and not from being bedridden.

Reminded of the car's clock problem from the drive I try throughout the day to reach Fred, but I keep getting the electronic answering software. Around 5 I give up and email him.

I use the Internet to try to find a phone number for Register4Less, and fail but find an email address. I'm not sure if it will go through with their server down, but it is worth a shot. It proves to be the magic spell because no sooner do I send it then the servers start working. JennyVision is back on the "air" and almost immediately a few orders come in. I get an email from a Net reliability service I subscribe to that the server was down for 18 1/2 hours. If I were going to be doing this much longer, I would have to consider switching to another server. But given the less than year scenario I've come to think in, why bother?

I'm watching a television show and sucking on a sugar-free popsicle when Fred calls me. We talked for quite awhile. Increases in auto insurance in socialist Massachusetts have him worried that he won't be in business come renewal time. He has been in business for over 17 years, and nobody works harder than Fred. It just doesn't seem right. But I have faith in his ability to thrive. When he puts his mind to something it tends to happen.

He asks a couple of questions about the car and deduces that the problem with the clock lies somewhere I never considered - the clock itself! It makes perfect sense but i never even considered it :) Relieved, I'll still have a diagnostic done before Tracy gets here, but I don't have to worry about a regulator or alternator or the like.

Anyone that has ever sent me a chain letter (usually in email form) has received a response from me stating how much I hate chain letters and don't ever send them to me. Of especial hatred is the form that promises horrible fates will befall you if you don't follow their instructions. Why would anyone pass on one of these things to anyone but an enemy?

So a few days early my sister sends me a chain email, and I remind her that these really annoy me. She responds that she knows, but.. <some reason why this is an exception to this no exceptions rule.> Fine.

Now today she sends me another one. What the hell? At least this one doesn't have the punishment clause in it and it comes with a really neat picture (that's it above) and she just might have found the one exception to the rule. But please no more chain emails anyone. The email can be found by clicking on the picture - you've been warned. And maybe this counts as compliance - in which case Tracy is in for a long stay :)

 
7/29/07

Sunday, so off to Grams for breakfast. It wasn't until we were leaving that I realized that although the place was crowded I hadn't flinched once during the meal. Were they extra quiet or was I immune today?

Unfortunately I spent several hours on the couch occupied with laptop (my latest obsession - Lynne & Dessa) and TV, before it occurred to me that an opportunity to get out of the house had been presented to me. After some testing clinking spoons I had confirmed my immunity but most of the daylight hours were burned away. However I have a restaurant that I love but don't go to much because it is so noisy - P. F. Changs. I had the Kung Pao Scallops that I always have, and it was perfect as it always is. We had a pleasant dinner, but I was stuffed and when we got home I went straight to bed,

Three friends died in a car wreck and went to heaven. Upon arrival at the Pearly Gates,

St. Peter tells them that they are all admitted. He cautions them, though, that there is only one rule: Don't step on the ducks. The men all have blank expressions, and finally one of them asks "The ducks?".

"Yes", St. Peter replies, "there are millions of ducks up here walking around and, if one gets stepped on, he squawks then the one next to him squawks and soon they're all raising hell and it really breaks the tranquility. If you step on the ducks, you'll be punished, otherwise everything is yours to enjoy."

After entering, the men noted that there was indeed a gaggle of ducks everywhere. Within fifteen minutes, one of the guys stepped on one of them. The duck squawked, the one next to it squawked and soon there was a deafening roar of duck quacks. St. Peter walked up with an extremely homely woman in tow and asked "Who stepped on the duck?". The one who had done it admitted "I did." Immediately, St. Peter pulled out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed the mans' right hand to the homely woman's left hand. "I told you not to step on the ducks", he said. "Now you'll be handcuffed together for eternity.

The other two men were very cautious not to step on any ducks, but a couple of weeks later, one of them accidentally did. The quacks were as deafening as before and within minutes St. Peter walked up with an even uglier woman than before. St. Peter determined which one had stepped on a duck by the fear in his face, and cuffed the mans' right hand to the homely woman's left hand. "I told you not to step on the ducks", he said. "Now you'll be handcuffed together for eternity."

The third man was extremely careful. Some days he wouldn't even move for fear of even nudging a duck. After three months of this he still hadn't stepped on a duck. St. Peter walked up to the man at the end of the three months and had with him a knock-out gorgeous woman, the most beautiful woman the man had ever seen. St. Peter smiled to the man and then, without a word, handcuffed him to the beautiful woman and walked off. The man, knowing that he would be handcuffed to this woman for eternity, let out a sigh and said, "What have I done to deserve this"?

The woman responded, "I don't know about you, but I stepped on a duck."