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	<title>HumorOutcasts &#187; Theresa Wiza</title>
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	<description>The Place to Take a Humor Break</description>
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		<title>Laugh is a Funny Word</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/laugh-is-a-funny-word/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/laugh-is-a-funny-word/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Jun 2013 17:47:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Words to Think Upon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[etymology]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[funny words]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[laugh]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[laughing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[laughter]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[words]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=34646</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I just posted a little blog, entitled, Laughter is Good for the Heart, and after I posted it, I looked at the word, &#8220;LAUGH.&#8221; Laugh. Look at it. Really look at it. Pay attention to how it&#8217;s spelled and listen to yourself pronounce it. Why isn&#8217;t it pronounced L-A-U-E with a silent gh? Or L-A-W-F? Or even L-A-W? Why spell it with an augh? It might have been funnier to spell the word, L-A-F-F. Due to my curiosity, I pulled out my etymology book to find out how the word, Laugh, originated. I found this: &#8220;Probably before 1200 lahhen.&#8221; Probably? Aren&#8217;t etymology books the Holy Grail of word originations? I honestly did not expect to find the word, &#8220;Probably,&#8221; in the explanation portion for the word, &#8220;Laugh.&#8221; Upon further reading, I found that in 1375, the word changed to &#8220;Laughen.&#8221; How did that happen? &#8220;Hear Ye, Hear Ye,&#8221; Lahhen shouted! &#8220;I no longer want to be called Lahhen. From this point forward, my name is Laughen.&#8221; Or did somebody, a king or other notable entity, issue an edict and proclaim, &#8220;From now on lahhen will be spelled l-a-u-g-h-e-n – the double &#8216;H&#8217; has been replaced with  UGH!&#8221; The original pronunciation, [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/laugh-is-a-funny-word/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>She&#8217;s Got Freckles on her But</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/shes-got-freckles-on-her-but/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/shes-got-freckles-on-her-but/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 11 Jun 2013 18:28:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[butt]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[freckles]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[freckles on her but]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=34219</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I can&#8217;t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, but I periodically remember my mom singing silly songs, like the one suggested in the title above. A recent Doctors episode about butts reminded me of that little ditty, which continues – oh, never mind. Why should I tell you when you can listen for yourself? Listen HERE! (Image is a screenshot captured from the site where the song is located.) Theresa WizaTheresa Wiza believes herself to be creative, innovative, imaginative, and inspirational. She is a writer, blogger, screenwriter, mother, grandmother, and friend. Though she is sometimes delusional, she has moments of sanity and believes that, in the words of the angel who spoke them, "The world is moving to a magical place." Please join her in her fantasy world.More Posts - Twitter - Facebook - LinkedIn - Pinterest - YouTube]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/shes-got-freckles-on-her-but/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>How to Handle Hot Water Thieves</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/how-to-handle-hot-water-thieves/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/how-to-handle-hot-water-thieves/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 22 May 2013 11:58:14 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hot water]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[hot water thieves]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[payback]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[revenge]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[thief]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[thieves]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=33305</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[They come into your house – or maybe they live in your house – and they steal ALL of your hot water. Or maybe YOU are a hot water thief. If so, SHAME ON YOU! I know what living with hot water thieves feels like. I&#8217;ve been living with them practically my whole life. My youngest sister was a hot water thief. Mom would say, &#8220;Don&#8217;t forget to take your showers,&#8221; and Cindy and I would argue about who would get into the shower first. Behind our backs, that thief Kathy would take advantage of the fact that we were paying so much attention to each other that we totally forgot about our sneaky little sister until she slammed shut the bathroom door and locked herself in before we had time to grab our pajamas. Cindy and I would stand by the bathroom watching the steam escape from under the door as Kathy enjoyed her luxurious HOT shower. It was so close to the time we had to go to bed, we knew that if she didn&#8217;t get out of that shower within the next ten minutes we were doomed to taking cold showers. One minute passed, then two. Thirty [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/how-to-handle-hot-water-thieves/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Driving With My Mom – How My Mom Drove Me Crazy</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/driving-with-my-mom-how-my-mom-drove-me-crazy/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/driving-with-my-mom-how-my-mom-drove-me-crazy/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 10 May 2013 11:13:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[driving]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mom]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[moms]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mother's Day]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=32874</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We were kids on our way down the street with our mother. Our car was a fossil. We could see the road beneath our feet and had to be careful not to fall through the hole and forever be crushed beneath the wheels of this – um, car. So it was bad enough that we were driven everywhere in this killing machine, but the day that stands out most is the day a spider fell in front of my mother as she was driving. None of us knew about the spider. If we had, we would have remembered how Mom reacted to spiders and, without any thought, we would have evacuated the car. Just to give you an inkling of how my mom reacts to spiders, I would like to relate to you the day we weren&#8217;t allowed outside – because a spider was crawling on the water spigot. The spider was the size of the entire side of the house. My mother will deny this exaggeration, but my sisters will back me up. Every day after that, when I walked outside, I would look above the back door to make sure Giganto Arachnid wasn&#8217;t going to leap on me, [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/driving-with-my-mom-how-my-mom-drove-me-crazy/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Flying Feces – Another Reason to Keep the Toilet Lid Down</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/flying-feces-another-reason-to-keep-the-toilet-lid-down/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/flying-feces-another-reason-to-keep-the-toilet-lid-down/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 29 Apr 2013 18:17:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[feces]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[inventions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poop]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[The Doctors]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=32460</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I don&#8217;t know why I watch The Doctors. They have so many disgusting segments on their show, accompanied by lots of warnings, like, &#8220;What you are about to see will cause you to projectile vomit.&#8221; Wait. That&#8217;s not right. That&#8217;s just how I interpret their warnings. Anyway, on the day they discussed flying feces, I curled my lip, but I paid attention. Who wants feces flying through the house? Apparently, after somebody poops, a flushing toilet sends microscopic feces onto carpeting, hardwood floors, magazines – anything that sits next to the toilet. But the velocity of the flush can send that disgusting poop into rooms hundreds of miles away. I could be exaggerating, but what bothered me was my obsession with the gap that exists between the lid and the toilet seat. Does putting down the toilet seat really prevent every poop particle from evacuating the toilet? As a result of my disgust, I have invented flushable toilet skirts that wrap around the toilet seat, come with their own flushable gloves, and a flushable reverse fan that sucks everything back into the toilet. Problem solved. Investors? Anyone? Read more from this author HERE! (I find it ironic that I have [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/flying-feces-another-reason-to-keep-the-toilet-lid-down/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Day I Put The Toy Box Together</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-day-i-put-the-toy-box-together/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-day-i-put-the-toy-box-together/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 28 Apr 2013 13:23:28 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[projects gone awry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[toy box]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[toybox]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=32424</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My friend, Katherine, and I were discussing our husbands whom we later divorced. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know why he just won&#8217;t put that stupid toy box together,&#8221; I moaned. &#8220;Why do I have to always be the one to put things together?&#8221; &#8220;Oh, just do it,&#8221; Katherine said. &#8220;You know you&#8217;re going to end up doing it anyway.&#8221; Good point. And so I did. Piece by piece, I built it with the ease of Noah building his ark (Noah had instructions from God, remember?) and when I was done, I stood back and admired my finished project. Perfect. But it wasn&#8217;t in the right spot. So I picked it up to move it. How did it get so heavy? I tugged and tugged, and still nothing. The box it came in wasn&#8217;t that heavy. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS THING????? I screamed. And that&#8217;s when I discovered that I had screwed it right through the carpet and into the floor. So much for perfection Want to read more from this author? Click HERE! Theresa WizaTheresa Wiza believes herself to be creative, innovative, imaginative, and inspirational. She is a writer, blogger, screenwriter, mother, grandmother, and friend. Though she is sometimes delusional, she [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-day-i-put-the-toy-box-together/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Never Ask a Child a Question Unless You Want an Honest Answer</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/never-ask-a-child-a-question-unless-you-want-an-honest-answer/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/never-ask-a-child-a-question-unless-you-want-an-honest-answer/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 18 Apr 2013 17:49:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[age]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[aging]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[truthful children]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=31874</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[As five of my grandchildren and I were discussing age, it didn&#8217;t take long for everybody in the room to figure out that I was the oldest one there, so when one of my grandsons asked me how old I was, I responded truthfully, &#8220;61.&#8221; Because I knew that must have sounded ancient to an 8-year-old, I added, &#8220;That&#8217;s really old, isn&#8217;t it?&#8221; Kaden looked at me, nodded in agreement, and said, &#8220;Yeah! That IS old. I&#8217;m surprised you&#8217;re not dead yet!&#8221; &#160; Want more from this author? Click here: http://writer721.wix.com/theresa-wiza#!articles-and-videos/galleryPage Theresa WizaTheresa Wiza believes herself to be creative, innovative, imaginative, and inspirational. She is a writer, blogger, screenwriter, mother, grandmother, and friend. Though she is sometimes delusional, she has moments of sanity and believes that, in the words of the angel who spoke them, "The world is moving to a magical place." Please join her in her fantasy world.More Posts - Twitter - Facebook - LinkedIn - Pinterest - YouTube]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/never-ask-a-child-a-question-unless-you-want-an-honest-answer/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Sometimes I Can&#8217;t Get My Clothes Off Fast Enough</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/sometimes-i-cant-get-my-clothes-off-fast-enough/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/sometimes-i-cant-get-my-clothes-off-fast-enough/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 03 Apr 2013 17:37:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Getting Naked]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[It's Getting Hot In Here]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Menopausal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[menopause]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=31413</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[It&#8217;s Getting Hot In Here My pulse rises, my breath becomes short, beads of sweat appear on my brow, and in a frenzy, I start tearing away layers of clothing. I&#8217;m practically out of breath explaining it. Lately, this bizarre ritual has been occurring when I&#8217;m in the car, my daughter&#8217;s car – say whaaaat? WOW! Am I a tease or what? Allow me to explain. My body temperature has always been under 98 degrees. I tend to feel heat faster than other people, so when I go for a drive with my youngest daughter and her kids, who drive in a 90-degree car, the moment I realize that I am sitting in a sauna, I frantically start ripping off my clothes. My daughter and grandchildren don&#8217;t want Grandma naked in a car (sounds like a great movie or song title, doesn&#8217;t it – Grandma Naked in a Car), I get to turn down the heat or open a window. Another reason for these ridiculous waves of heat is something that SHOULD NOT BE HAPPENING to me! You see, I am POST menopausal. Post = after. After = done. But am I done? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! My hot flashes didn&#8217;t start until [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/sometimes-i-cant-get-my-clothes-off-fast-enough/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>The Day I Almost Killed An Entire Family</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-day-i-almost-killed-an-entire-family/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-day-i-almost-killed-an-entire-family/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 24 Mar 2013 14:31:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[accidents]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[bad driving]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[driving]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[embarrassing moments]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=30976</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The dark night and black roads were scary enough, but when I was given &#8220;directions&#8221; to turn at the red barn and continue until I saw a yellow house with a thatched roof, I knew I was in trouble. I want DIRECTIONS, people! Not landmarks! Still, I moved on, wondering why I ever agreed to sell these home furnishings products in the first place – oh yeah, I remember – for the money. I should never have consented to throw a party in a home that was so far out in the boonies, though. I wasn&#8217;t even given real directions, but I said yes, and, being the professional that I am, I had to honor my commitment. After about an hour and a half, I found the block where I thought the home HAD to be, but this brand new block had no streetlights, so I had to park my car in the street (hoping I was actually still on the street) and walk up to each house to see the numbers on the houses. Several houses later, when I realized the address pattern, I at last found the home where I would sell my goods. Thank God!  –  And [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-day-i-almost-killed-an-entire-family/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Want to Be a Driver&#8217;s Ed Teacher? – NO THANK YOU!</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/want-to-be-a-drivers-ed-teacher-no-thank-you/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/want-to-be-a-drivers-ed-teacher-no-thank-you/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 19 Mar 2013 12:15:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Driver Education]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[driver's ed]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[teenage drivers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[women drivers]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=30801</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In my Sophomore year of high school, I, along with every other 15-year-old I knew, took Driver&#8217;s Ed. The class itself was easy. The driving, on the other hand – well, that&#8217;s the story you are about to read. Every morning – let me repeat – every single morning, because &#8220;Ladies first&#8221; was my Driver&#8217;s Ed teacher&#8217;s motto, and because I was the only girl in the car, I would sit in the driver&#8217;s seat and crank the engine. And every morning – let me repeat – every single morning, the car was already started. I&#8217;d see the elbows of the guys in the back seat and the snickers on their faces, and I would see the teacher slump his shoulders forward and shake his head, as I meekly mumbled – every day – oh, sorry, I  didn&#8217;t know it was already started. One day, when I was behind the wheel, rain began pelting the window. Within seconds, I was driving through a thunderstorm. &#8220;Turn on your wipers,&#8221; my teacher commanded. I had no clue where the wipers were or how to turn them on. So I looked for them as we veered off the road. &#8220;Wipers! Wipers!&#8221; he repeated. [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/want-to-be-a-drivers-ed-teacher-no-thank-you/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Weird Boyfriends</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/weird-boyfriends/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/weird-boyfriends/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 18 Mar 2013 11:07:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dating]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[relationships gone bad]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[weird boyfriends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[weird girlfriends]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=30724</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m sure we&#8217;ve all had our share of weird boyfriends – or even weird girlfriends for that matter – but if you look back through your dating life, you might find at least one that tipped the weirdness scale so far off the meter, it broke. No weird boyfriends (girlfriends)? Don&#8217;t fret. If you haven&#8217;t dated your fair share, the reason is because I have dated them for you. Here&#8217;s a sampling. I dated mostly in the 70&#8242;s when the common phrase was, &#8220;What&#8217;s your sign?&#8221; (as if anybody knew what that really meant) and &#8220;I haven&#8217;t seen you here before. Is this your first time?&#8221; I looked for more clever come-ons, like the guy who asked me if I wanted to visit him in his haunted house. Talk about a great opener! I never dated patrons at the cocktail lounge where I worked, but this guy grabbed my attention with his unique style. So, yeah, show me the way. The funny thing was that when I went to his house, some other guy, who never said a word, sat at the kitchen table. When my date drove me home, he asked me if I&#8217;d seen anything. I told him [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/weird-boyfriends/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>4</slash:comments>
		</item>
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		<title>We Are All Orgasms Revisited</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/we-are-all-orgasms-revisited/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/we-are-all-orgasms-revisited/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 06 Mar 2013 13:33:38 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[faking orgasm]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[orgasms]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sperm]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sperm selection]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=30224</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Originally Published on Theresa Wiza&#8217;s wordpress Blog  If you think the title is a typo and that I meant to write, “organisms,” you would be wrong. Look around. What do you see roaming the planet? People? Animals? Look again. In addition to humans, animals, lizards, and bugs, what you are witnessing are millions of orgasms – materialized. You could say that we, like the Earth (if you believe in the Big Bang Theory), exploded onto the scene after one orgasmic episode, because, after all, one orgasm is all it takes. You could also say that I am right. I know. Some of you will argue with me that it doesn’t take an orgasm to create a human, and you would be right, but chances are, orgasm or not, the sexual act was involved. And the hope to achieve an orgasm was somewhere on the “to do” list of at least one of the participants. So I have only one question – if millions of sperm surround an egg and the egg is very discerning in her decision about whether or not to accept the sperm, how come we have so many crazy people roaming the planet? Can we teach an [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/we-are-all-orgasms-revisited/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Neglected Nose :)</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-neglected-nose/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-neglected-nose/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Mar 2013 15:16:31 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Movies & TV]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Heckle & Jeckle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[high foreheads]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Jay Leno]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[noses]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[true beauty]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=30026</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[For far too long, those of us who draw smiley faces draw only the eyes and the mouth. Shame on us! How dare us neglect the nose. You could argue that we dismiss eyebrows, eyelashes, cheek bones, lips, teeth, and ears too, but when you consider how prominent a position the nose takes on our faces, why neglect it? It&#8217;s right there, smack dab in the middle of our faces. We smile with our mouths, yes, and I know you&#8217;ve heard the phrase, &#8220;smiling eyes,&#8221; but noses also respond to a face that smiles. Sometimes they can be rather grotesque, but maybe we shouldn&#8217;t pick on them so much. (Sorry.) All I can say is that while the nose is so obvious that everyone can see it, why do we relegate the nose to such an inferior position on the face? We say, Oh, he has such beautiful eyes. Look at that strong jaw line. She has such sensuous lips. All of those features make up the face, but your nose, which appears to be in the middle of it all (yes, I know, the eyes appear in the middle of your head), even if you have an unusually high [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-neglected-nose/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<title>WARNING: Do NOT Ski Until You Read These 7 Rules!</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/warning-do-not-ski-until-you-read-these-7-rules/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/warning-do-not-ski-until-you-read-these-7-rules/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 10 Feb 2013 01:25:14 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lifestyle]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sports]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[how not to ski]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ski rules]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[skiing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=29116</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[With winter so close, who isn&#8217;t thinking of white powder, steep hills, sledding, and skiing? In a word, me. Skiing – what horrific memories that word conjures for me. I can honestly say that NOBODY in the history of modern or even prehistoric civilization has EVER had an experience quite like mine. You may have broken your leg or found yourself straddling a tree, but I&#8217;ll bet your worst story about your worst skiing experience doesn&#8217;t come close to mine. Because of my experience, I feel qualified to share the rules of how NOT to ski by relating to you the rules I learned on my one &#8211; and only &#8211; skiing expedition. Rule #1 Never go skiing with your boyfriend when he invites his future girlfriend to tag along. I was looking forward to my date with Dr. Ignorant (not his real name). He had planned for us a ski trip to Alpine Valley in Wisconsin. I had never been skiing so I was excited to learn a new skill. Because I would have to pass his place on the way to Wisconsin, I volunteered to drive to Dr. Ignorant&#8217;s Chicago loft from my suburban location to save him [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/warning-do-not-ski-until-you-read-these-7-rules/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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		<title>The Funniest Comedy Ever Written</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-funniest-comedy-ever-written/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/the-funniest-comedy-ever-written/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Jan 2013 14:28:32 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writers]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[comedy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[comedy writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[funniest comedy ever written]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[funny]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[greatest comedy ever written]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[James Riordan]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=28161</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Many years ago I came up with an idea for a screenplay – The Funniest Comedy Ever Written. It would be a masterpiece. People everywhere would stand in long lines to watch the movie. Tears would be rolling down the cheeks of everybody who saw it. Academy Awards and Peoples Choice Awards would await my future. Since my inspiration for the movie came from a successful old television program, The Dick Van Dyke Show, this movie would stand the test of time and generations upon generations of people would be talking – for eons – about the greatest comedy ever written. And then I felt as if someone had wrapped choking hands around my neck. How dare me for even considering that something I would write would ever be considered the greatest anything! What if I never had another funny thought in my entire life – ever? And what if I couldn&#8217;t pull it off? Jim Riordan taunts me from the recesses of my mind. Jim Riordan KNOWS funny. He told me so himself. He was one of the hosts of one of our local television programs back in the 90s. When I met Jim Riordan, which I did because [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
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		<title>Words that Wake Me in the Middle of the Night</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/words-that-wake-me-in-the-middle-of-the-night/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/words-that-wake-me-in-the-middle-of-the-night/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jan 2013 16:38:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Words to Think Upon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[afflictions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[disease]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[erythema multiforme]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[illness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pig iron]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pityriasis Rosea]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=27960</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I like words. You might think that&#8217;s obvious since I&#8217;m a writer, but words like me too, because they come to me at all hours of the day and night. They visit me in the shower, on the road while I&#8217;m driving, in the middle of the night WHILE I&#8217;M TRYING TO SLEEP! These little elements of speech come unexpectedly, unwarranted, unbidden, and sometimes unwanted. And many times they are words that have absolutely no connection whatsoever to anything I&#8217;m doing or thinking – at all. Take the words, Pityriasis Rosea, for instance. Yes, Pityriasis Rosea. Think about those words for a minute. How often do the words, Pityriasis Rosea, pop into your head? I&#8217;m betting hardly ever. When words like that come to me unexpectedly, I have to research them. And what I discovered when I looked up Pityriasis Rosea was that it was an affliction one of my sisters might have had several decades ago – in the 70&#8242;s – when doctors were so baffled by her illness, they never made a successful evaluation and they called it erythema multiforme – which is not at all what she had. I know. I researched it. So I had to [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2013/words-that-wake-me-in-the-middle-of-the-night/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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		<title>Hallmark Channel USA Knows How to Reach the Dead</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/hallmark-channel-usa-knows-how-to-reach-the-dead/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/hallmark-channel-usa-knows-how-to-reach-the-dead/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Aug 2012 11:10:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Movies & TV]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[afterlife]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dead celebrities]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Debra Messing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Elvis Presley]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lucille Ball]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Rod Serling]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=21239</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[It&#8217;s true! The Hallmark Channel in the United States of America KNOWS how to send birthday wishes to dead people. Why, just today, for example, on my FaceBook page, Hallmark Channel USA contacted me to tell me that for a mere &#8220;Like,&#8221; I could send B-day wishes to the one and only Lucille Ball! Lucy would have been 101 TOMORROW! OK, they didn&#8217;t actually contact me. A paid advertisement appeared on my screen telling me I could Like them and they would send the wishes, so naturally I Liked it. Why wouldn&#8217;t I? It was for LUCILLE BALL! Then again, why would I? Am I so gullible as to believe that by merely pressing Like, I am actually reaching Lucille Ball and that she will actually receive my wishes? But even more curious, HOW do they do that? And why only the USA? Why would the USA exclude other countries from contacting the dead? Suspicious, I say. Very suspicious. We were the first country to actually land on the moon, and now I think they&#8217;re hiding some very sensitive information that would allow the citizens of the United States to contact dead celebrities. Elvis sightings will rise from the dead [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/hallmark-channel-usa-knows-how-to-reach-the-dead/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
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		<title>Why Some Things Just Disappear – The Case of the Disappearing Skirt</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/why-some-things-just-disappear-the-case-of-the-disappearing-skirt-2/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/why-some-things-just-disappear-the-case-of-the-disappearing-skirt-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 20 May 2012 14:49:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=17483</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Summer&#8217;s heat and humidity? NO THANK YOU! I hate heat and humidity! You will never find me, even if I make it to 95, living in Florida. I&#8217;d rather move to Alaska. Nothing feels as uncomfortable to me as sweat dripping down my entire body in the time it takes me to walk from my back door to my car, especially after I&#8217;ve just showered.  When the weather is unbearably hot, I wear as little as possible – no sleeves and EXTREMELY lightweight clothing.  I may, however, have to change my attitude and my attire.  One day during one of the Midwest&#8217;s staggering heat waves, I wore a no-sleeved silk blouse and a breezy lightweight skirt because I knew I had to leave my house – I would be seeing a movie with a friend and meeting her for lunch at a local restaurant.  The hardwood benches the restaurant provided were probably deliberately put there in an effort to get patrons out of there as quickly as possible, but because the food was so good, we always suffered through the uncomfortable seats. On this particular day, a neighbor who more or less stalked me sat across the aisle from us [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
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		<title>How the Mayans Screwed up Our 2012 Calendar Marking the End of Time</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/how-the-mayans-screwed-up-our-2012-calendar-marking-the-end-of-time/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/how-the-mayans-screwed-up-our-2012-calendar-marking-the-end-of-time/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 24 Feb 2012 19:12:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[2012]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chandler]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[December 21]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[end of the world]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[end of times]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mayan calendar]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mayan calendar prediction]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=14383</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Because so many people were prepared for Y2K, but nothing happened, we were all a bit skeptical about all the other doomsayers who pinpointed the end of times to be this day or that day (all of which passed without catastrophic end-of-world doom). We were also disappointed about getting stuck with generators we didn&#8217;t really need, caseloads of water bottles that took up valuable space, and enough blankets to carpet our homes. Despite our disillusion, we now await with anticipation another end of times – December 21, 2012 – less than one year away. Everybody wants to be right. Whole groups of religious fanatics build underground safe houses in anticipation of our final days. Some act as if they are looking forward to the last day. Frankly, I&#8217;m kind of looking forward to it too. I&#8217;m tired of all the endless financial struggle of paying my bills and hoping for a better tomorrow. I can&#8217;t wait for December 20th, because on that day, all the bills I owe will dive into the black hole that belongs to the past – to everything prior to December 21, 2012. When I wake up on the morning of December 22nd, I won&#8217;t care [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/how-the-mayans-screwed-up-our-2012-calendar-marking-the-end-of-time/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
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		<title>On My Way to Obie City</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/on-my-way-to-obie-city/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/on-my-way-to-obie-city/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 03 Jan 2012 18:21:18 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[eating]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[food humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[obesity]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=12057</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I must relate up front that I never wanted to visit this city, but was rather forced into it by my co-workers, none of whom had ever visited the forbidden city. In all honesty, they didn&#8217;t actually force me to go there, but their bread crumbs, which they practically threw in my face, compelled me to eat my way to the weighty city, one mouthful at a time. Oh, those dreaded bread crumbs and their partners in crime – the meatballs and the guacamole and the casseroles and the Heath desserts and the pies and the – I&#8217;d better stop – my hips are expanding just by uttering those words. The trip to Obie City was a much shorter trip than I originally anticipated it would be. The nearer Obie City appeared, the heavier I felt. The bread crumbs turned into whole loaves of bread. The guacamole turned into a giant avocado tree, its leaves appearing as salivating tongues, its tails wagging in anticipation of filling my tummy with satiating goodness. I couldn&#8217;t help but smash those lush avocados into an exquisite dip and devour them greedily. The Heath desserts followed me into my bedroom, sneaking into my mouth and [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/on-my-way-to-obie-city/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>9</slash:comments>
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		<title>Men and Laundry</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/men-and-laundry/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/men-and-laundry/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 01 Dec 2011 16:14:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Everyday Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[laundry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[magic button]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[men and laundry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[washing clothes]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=10299</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I read an article a while ago by Mario Turchiarolo, entitled, The Downy Ball Paradox . It was an enlightening little article about the magic of the Downy Ball, and it reminded me about my own magical laundry experiences. &#160; My ex refused to understand why I lamented doing laundry every day for six people when all I had to do, according to him, was push a button. I remember his upper lip curling in a sneer, &#8220;You moron, all you have to do is push a button.&#8221; &#160; OK, I lied. He didn&#8217;t call me a moron. He told me to blow it out my butt. &#160; OK, I lied again. He didn&#8217;t say, &#8220;butt.&#8221; Whatever. I couldn&#8217;t stop thinking about that button. He had been doing his own laundry for several years and because he was a man, and men know how to get things done quickly, I believed he knew the secret for an efficient laundry experience. I just had to find that button. &#160; I looked everywhere for that magic button – in his sock drawer, under the bed, in the glove compartment – I even looked on the washer and dryer. He must have had [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Lady Gaga&#8217;s Fantastical PR Stunt</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/lady-gagas-fantastical-pr-stunt/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/lady-gagas-fantastical-pr-stunt/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 10 Nov 2011 16:06:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[humor]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Lady Gaga]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[PR]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=9078</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[If you were anywhere around a television set or a radio yesterday you were inundated with interruptions from the National Weather Service.  And if you were listening very closely, you heard Lady Gaga&#8217;s Paparazzi. Her publicist is a genius. What a wonderful way to put Lady Gaga in the minds of people when they think of disaster. Don&#8217;t believe me? Here are her lyrics to Paparazzi along with my commentary about why this PR stunt was intended to remind us of Lady Gaga while we are in the midst of a disaster: We are the crowd We&#8217;re c-coming out Got my flash on it&#8217;s true Need that picture of you It&#8217;s so magical We&#8217;d be so fantastical In her publicist&#8217;s attempt to draw a connection in our minds between national weather alerts and Lady Gaga, we need to look at the word, flash, or lightening. How many of us run out and join the crowds of onlookers who look for tornadoes? Storms are, after all, magical and fantastical. Leather and jeans We&#8217;re rock glamorous Not sure what it means But this photo of us It don&#8217;t have a price Ready for those flashing lights Cause you know that baby I [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/lady-gagas-fantastical-pr-stunt/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Halloween Trick or … Nothing – Just Trick</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/halloween-trick-or-nothing-just-trick/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/halloween-trick-or-nothing-just-trick/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 31 Oct 2011 10:24:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Halloween]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trick or treat]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=8704</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Halloween was one of my dad&#8217;s favorite holidays. Only my dad was allowed to answer the door when the kiddies arrived on Halloween. Dad waited expectantly by the door for the first trick or treater to arrive. If the little goblin didn&#8217;t say, &#8220;Trick or Treat!&#8221; my dad would not give away our treasured candy. So even teenagers who dared come to our door would NOT be given any candy until they said, sometimes with eyes rolling, &#8220;Trick or Treat.&#8221; My dad reached into our bowl of goodies after the child spoke the Halloween phrase and placed the candy into the bag. Then, quick as you can say, &#8220;Trick,&#8221; he grabbed the bag, yelled, &#8220;Trick!&#8221; and slammed the door. The funniest part about the whole Halloween Trick or Treat scenario was that when he opened the door, the child (and his parents who were usually standing at the end of the sidewalk) stood frozen in time, still holding out his or her little hand where the bag had been, horrified! Of course, Dad always handed back the bag, but the image of those parents and their child standing in exactly the same spot in exactly the same position still brings [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Neighborhood Idiots</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/neighborhood-idiots/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/neighborhood-idiots/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 25 Sep 2011 15:38:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=7549</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A Mr. Rogers song plays in my brain right now – changed a little from, &#8220;It&#8217;s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…&#8221; to He&#8217;s an unbelievable idiot an unbelievable idiot Next door neighbor Stupid neighbor. First let me explain that Next Door Neighbor is not MY neighbor, but my daughter&#8217;s neighbor. My daughter had just given birth to her youngest child, and I was at her home helping her get her other children back and forth to school, preparing meals, cleaning up messes, and getting caught up on her never ending explosion of laundry. As we sprinted out of the house to pick up her oldest daughter from school, we first had to get the baby into her car seat and then strap her son into his booster seat. We were already running so late that we didn&#8217;t notice Next Door Neighbor rushing toward us. I heard, &#8220;Is that your truck?&#8221; My daughter heard, &#8220;Is that your trash?&#8221; So I asked my daughter, &#8220;Is that one of your husband&#8217;s friends&#8217; trucks?&#8221; I knew the truck didn&#8217;t belong to her husband, but I thought that maybe he was keeping his friend&#8217;s truck in front of Flustered Neighbor&#8217;s house for some reason. [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/neighborhood-idiots/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
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		<title>Order in the Court (Chamber)</title>
		<link>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/order-in-the-court-chamber/</link>
		<comments>http://humoroutcasts.com/2011/order-in-the-court-chamber/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 Sep 2011 12:40:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Theresa Wiza</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Good Clean Fun]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://humoroutcasts.com/?p=7240</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The gavel slammed down so hard, the sound reverberated throughout the tight chamber. Judge Pastel screamed, ORDER! The room quieted. The defendant made his case, &#8220;You have no idea what I&#8217;m going through, Your Honor. I can NOT stand it anymore, and I refuse to foot the bill for what is undoubtedly a stinky operation.&#8221; Toots Argyle, a prominent attorney who dressed contemporarily, but whose name lent itself to some smirks, leaned into the defendant stand, and rested her elbow on the ledge. Beoseon Silk backed up. &#8220;So you&#8217;re telling me, Mr. Silk, that you abandoned your partner because you couldn&#8217;t stand the smell?&#8221; Spectators looked appalled. &#8220;Oh, you don&#8217;t understand. It was a nightmare! Yes, that is exactly what I&#8217;m telling you!&#8221; The chamber went silent. Partners were disappearing so frequently lately, newscasters were broadcasting the disappearances with alarming frequency. Comedians joked about it. Something reeked. In the last decade, more partners went missing than ever before. Beoseon Silk wasn&#8217;t the only perpetrator, and though Toots was aware of that fact, she felt she was pointing her toe in the right direction. &#8220;You&#8217;re a member of the Cashmere ancestry, aren&#8217;t you, Beoseon Silk?&#8221; Toots Argyle pressed. &#8220;You make me [...]]]></description>
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