Silver Linings Are Everywhere

Viagra. That one word packs a lot of punch. Let's face it; there is little that has been derided more than Viagra. On the talk shows, it has been the butt of more jokes than Michael Jackson and Saddam Hussein combined. For example:

(OK, OK. I admit I was going to share an example or two, but I couldn't find any clean enough to pass my censor's well-trained eyes.)

Of course, if you are not laughing yet from the jokes you could imagine I might have told, it may be because you are so fed up of receiving offers for Viagra in your email inbox, right up there with the prospect of enhancing body parts you didn't even know you owned. In fact, you may even be convinced that spam was invented just to deliver the Viagra industry's message to your personal desktop.

Can anything good come from Viagra?

As a matter of fact, yes. Scientists have actually found a benefit from Viagra (No, I am not talking about experimenting in their labs.) Apparently Viagra is good for the environment.

It took a lot of work and several failed attempts to reach this conclusion. First, the scientists tried to use Viagra as an additive to revive lakes that were dying from acid rain. Unfortunately, it raised the lake's body temperature and fried the fish.

Then they tried using Viagra to replace polluting dry cleaner chemicals, but clothes came back too rigid to wear: "Hey, how come my fleece isn't soft anymore?" "I thought I told you not to starch my collars." "Ouch!"

The researchers tried feeding Viagra to swine, cattle, and chickens, hoping to replace feed sources that now consume vast areas of land. However, the farm animals wouldn't touch the stuff. The cockroaches, however, found it energizing, and before long there were very few barns left.

Next they decided to see if Viagra could be used as a low-polluting fuel to heat homes in the winter. That option looked promising ... until airplanes started hitting the rising chimney stacks. Oops.

Then the scientists tried offering Viagra to all the taxi drivers who insisted on idling their polluting engines between fares. Unfortunately, it seems that most cab drivers preferred idling to anything Viagra could do for them (which may explain the way they drive.)

Finally, the researchers have discovered that Viagra can save endangered species. This is no joke ? check the wire services on the Internet. In fact, a paper published recently by researchers at the University of Alaska and the University of New South Wales reveals that the trade in exotic body parts used as aphrodisiacs has fallen dramatically since Viagra hit the market.

Rhinos love this, because poachers had made them almost extinct, killing them for the horn, so sought-after by the lovelorn, and leaving the carcass behind. Reindeer feel more secure about their antlers now, too, since the velvet coverings are in less demand. And you may already have noticed fewer seals walking around town with their legs crossed, as the price for their private parts has fallen 72 percent.

Others who are thrilled about this great scientific discovery include sea horses, pipefish, elk and the ever beloved sea cucumber. I am still not sure whether that last one is a joke.

So, is Viagra the butt of countless jokes or the scourge of the Internet? If you look for silver linings, it is neither. It is the savior of endangered species. Now that I've helped clear that up for you, what else do you deride? What else upsets you? Can you find a silver lining? I'm sure you can. If Viagra is a good thing, can there be anything bad?

About The Author

David Leonhardt is the Happy Guy, author of "Climb your Stairway to Heaven: the 9 habits of maximum happiness at <a href="http://www.TheHappyGuy.com/happiness-self-help-book.html" target="_new">http://www.TheHappyGuy.com/happiness-self-help-book.html</a>. Visit him at <a href="http://www.TheHappyGuy.com" target="_new">http://www.TheHappyGuy.com</a>.

<a href="mailto:info@thehappyguy.com">info@thehappyguy.com</a>

Stopping Bad Breath Bart

"Pee-ew! You smell like a skunk soaking in sardine nectar for a week."

OK, so I can be a little candid every now and then. It's not something I would say to Attila the Hun during a pre-battle pep rally. But it was not Attila the Hun standing in front of me. It was just my buddy Bart.

"Pee-ew! You have bad breath."

So when the phone rang that night, the last person I expected to greet me in a cheery voice was Bad Breath Bart. "Hey, Happy Guy. I'm feeling great," he said. "Want to guess why?"

"You just won the gold medal for the ten-meter turkey toss?"

"Nope," he replied. "But thanks for the tip. I'll start training for it tomorrow."

"OK, I give up. Why do you feel so great?"

"Because I discovered an easy way to stop bad breath," he declared. "Want to guess how?"

"You bought a book on stopping bad breath and you are following the instructions?"

"Sa-ay, that's a good idea," Bad Breath Bart said. "But that's not it. My plan is even simpler. I covered up my bad breath."

"Bart, that won't work. Since Julius Caesar first invaded Paris and declared 'Veni Vidi Vino', people have been trying to cover up their breath. But mint just is not strong enough."

"Bingo!" he shouted. "Mint is too weak, so I found something stronger. Want to guess what?"

"You've been rinsing with five-week-old milk?"

"Nope."

"You've discovered that cologne is best taken internally?"

"Nope."

"You downed a bottle of vanilla extract, mistaking it for beer?"

"Nope."

This guessing game was giving me headaches and foot cramps. "I give up, Bart. What's your secret to stopping bad breath?"

"Garlic," he declared.

"Garlic?"

"Garlic. Now nobody can smell my bad breath, because all they smell is garlic," he beamed.

"Garlic?"

"Of course, there are some side effects," Bad Breath Bart noted. "For instance, my pet vampire has run away. And this afternoon I blew a kiss to my wife, and she slammed the door on my face."

"Can I offer an alternative, Bart? Something that won't put your nose in a cast every time you get the irresistible urge to blow at your wife?"

"Sure."

"Try using some mouthwash with cetylpyridinium chloride in it. That always works for me."

"Wow. That's a mouthful," Bad Breath Bart exclaimed.

I was glad to have finally given Bad Breath Bart a mouthful that would actually help him cure his problem. I did not anticipate the call I would receive the very next evening.

"Hey, Happy Guy. Thanks for the tip," Bad Breath Bart said. "That cetlip... cettap... centapyr... That unpronounceable mouthwash ingredient is superb."

"Excellent!" I was thrilled that he had taken my advice and that it was working so well.

"Yeah. It really tastes great," he continued.

"Tastes great?"

"You bet. And so filling, too."

Suddenly I felt an ominous sensation closing in. "What do you mean by 'filling'?"

"After taking that cetilp... cettep... certip... that unpronounceable concoction, I don't feel hungry anymore," he explained.

"Bart, what did you put in that concoction?"

"Oh, the usual ? ten scoops of ice cream, a cup or two of milk, a bag of chocolate chips, half a banana, some corn flakes, a wombat's ear and the juice out of the maraschino cherry jar," he responded.

"But that won't stop your bad breath."

"Oops. I also added that cetip... cetpe... certilp... that unpronounceable ingredient," he added. "It sure tasted good."

Just then, my wife entered the room. "Honey, I just made you one of your favorite banana-strawberry milkshakes," she said with a smile.

I looked at the glass she placed in my hand. I looked at it from the top. I looked at it from the bottom. I looked all around it.

"What are you looking for," she asked.

I knew she would not believe me. "Chocolate chips and corn flakes."

David Leonhardt is a <a target="_new" href="http://www.seo-writer.net/freelance/writer.html">freelance writer in eastern Ontario</a>. Read a longer version about <a target="_new" href="http://www.thehappyguy.com/stop-bad-breath.html">stopping Bad Breath Bart</a> or get healthy with some of his (David's, not Bart's) <a target="_new" href="http://www.vitamin-supplements-store.net">all-natural liquid vitamin supplements</a>.

Wanted: Treadmill for an Elephant

Maggie, the 22 year-old African elephant, has been a resident of the Alaska Zoo since 1983. The Zoo recently decided that Maggie needs nicer quarters, more attention, and a treadmill. She weighs 9,100 pounds and does not get enough exercise, especially during the long Alaskan winter months.

Alaska Zoo officials debated this past year about whether to keep Maggie. She has been the only elephant in the zoo since 1997 when her companion of 14 years, Annabelle, died. Some experts believe that in order to be healthy and happy a zoo elephant should be part of a small herd of 3 or more.

The Zoo's elephant committee decided that the risks of moving Maggie out of state and of totally changing her life were too great. Besides, she seems happy here and she has a familiar &quot;herd&quot; in Alaska already. Numerous Zoo officials, animal handlers and exercisers, and familiar frequent visitors spend many hours a day with her.

In order to increase Maggie's comfort and health, zoo officials decided to give Maggie's living quarters softer flooring and better ventilation. Zoo staff will also increase the number of hours that they spend with Maggie from 8 hours daily to 12 to 16 hours daily.

Finally, the Zoo will help Maggie get more year-round exercise and lose weight. They will purchase an elephant-sized treadmill. However, nobody has ever designed or built an elephant treadmill. Designs are being developed now, but if you have any good ideas bring them forward.

Then stand in line behind me to watch Maggie work out on her new treadmill.

Can you imagine the elephant-sized headphones and iPod that she'll need?

*****************************

Garry Gamber is a public school teacher and entrepreneur. He writes articles about real estate, health and nutrition, and internet dating services. He is the owner of <a target="_new" href="http://www.Anchorage-Homes.com">http://www.Anchorage-Homes.com</a> and <a target="_new" href="http://www.TheDatingAdvisor.com">http://www.TheDatingAdvisor.com</a>.

[Not So] Outgoing Mail

I am currently perplexed by the concept of outgoing mail. I mean, I understand it in theory, but today I tried talking to it and it didn't even respond. What's so outgoing about that? I think it needs to be renamed "shy mail" or "introverted mail". And besides, the reason a lot of people send mail is because they are not outgoing people and would like to instead express themselves in written form. So a new name for this type of mail is only logical. I would suggest names like Ralph or Hector or Agnes, because people don't seem to send mail to people with names like those, and thus the name would be ironic...

I'm confused because I constantly hear females saying that they want an outgoing mail, but when I send them letters, they don't respond. But outgoing mail is not my only complaint in regards to the U.S. Postal Service. I also have a problem with stamps. This isn't because there is no stamp with my picture on it -- especially since I think that'd require me to be dead -- but also because many stamps are now stickers, and therefore aren't pushed forcibly, contrary to the definition of "stamp". Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, I don't think "stamp" would be a good name for a fish. If you are reading this and you name your fish "stamp" and it dies tomorrow, you have no one to blame but yourself and that stupid name...

Other misnamed aspects of the U.S. Postal Service include the term "mailman," which is just stating the same thing twice. Then there is also the system of "priority mail," which to me is scary because what is that saying about all the other mail that is sent? Same goes for express mail. That's basically like saying, "Well, we could technically send everything faster, but then we wouldn't be making money, would we?"

I am not positive about this, but I think express mail involves very quick flamingoes. One flamingo passes the mail to another, and then that flamingo throws it around a little for fun, before passing it on to a third flamingo, who obviously then gives it to the addressee. But I am not positive about the second flamingo; I'm just sure about the first and third. Nevertheless, I have thought of far too many flaws involving the postal system. If any member of the U.S. Postal Service, particularly a flamingo, would like to follow up with my complaints, please go ahead and e-mail me at comments@progressiverevelations.com. I thought about having people send comments about the mail through the mail system, but that just doesn't work. It's like running around with a burger at a fast food restaurant...

Yes, exactly like that...

But I digress.

Greg Gagliardi is a teacher and writer. His stream-of-consciousness weekly humor column, "Progressive Revelations," has been ongoing since 1998. (<a target="_new" href="http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com">http://www.ProgressiveRevelations.com</a>)

Silver Linings Are Everywhere

Viagra. That one word packs a lot of punch. Let's face it; there is little that has been derided more than Viagra. On the talk shows, it has been the butt of more jokes than Michael Jackson and Saddam Hussein combined. For example:

(OK, OK. I admit I was going to share an example or two, but I couldn't find any clean enough to pass my censor's well-trained eyes.)

Of course, if you are not laughing yet from the jokes you could imagine I might have told, it may be because you are so fed up of receiving offers for Viagra in your email inbox, right up there with the prospect of enhancing body parts you didn't even know you owned. In fact, you may even be convinced that spam was invented just to deliver the Viagra industry's message to your personal desktop.

Can anything good come from Viagra?

As a matter of fact, yes. Scientists have actually found a benefit from Viagra (No, I am not talking about experimenting in their labs.) Apparently Viagra is good for the environment.

It took a lot of work and several failed attempts to reach this conclusion. First, the scientists tried to use Viagra as an additive to revive lakes that were dying from acid rain. Unfortunately, it raised the lake's body temperature and fried the fish.

Then they tried using Viagra to replace polluting dry cleaner chemicals, but clothes came back too rigid to wear: "Hey, how come my fleece isn't soft anymore?" "I thought I told you not to starch my collars." "Ouch!"

The researchers tried feeding Viagra to swine, cattle, and chickens, hoping to replace feed sources that now consume vast areas of land. However, the farm animals wouldn't touch the stuff. The cockroaches, however, found it energizing, and before long there were very few barns left.

Next they decided to see if Viagra could be used as a low-polluting fuel to heat homes in the winter. That option looked promising ... until airplanes started hitting the rising chimney stacks. Oops.

Then the scientists tried offering Viagra to all the taxi drivers who insisted on idling their polluting engines between fares. Unfortunately, it seems that most cab drivers preferred idling to anything Viagra could do for them (which may explain the way they drive.)

Finally, the researchers have discovered that Viagra can save endangered species. This is no joke ? check the wire services on the Internet. In fact, a paper published recently by researchers at the University of Alaska and the University of New South Wales reveals that the trade in exotic body parts used as aphrodisiacs has fallen dramatically since Viagra hit the market.

Rhinos love this, because poachers had made them almost extinct, killing them for the horn, so sought-after by the lovelorn, and leaving the carcass behind. Reindeer feel more secure about their antlers now, too, since the velvet coverings are in less demand. And you may already have noticed fewer seals walking around town with their legs crossed, as the price for their private parts has fallen 72 percent.

Others who are thrilled about this great scientific discovery include sea horses, pipefish, elk and the ever beloved sea cucumber. I am still not sure whether that last one is a joke.

So, is Viagra the butt of countless jokes or the scourge of the Internet? If you look for silver linings, it is neither. It is the savior of endangered species. Now that I've helped clear that up for you, what else do you deride? What else upsets you? Can you find a silver lining? I'm sure you can. If Viagra is a good thing, can there be anything bad?

About The Author

David Leonhardt is the Happy Guy, author of "Climb your Stairway to Heaven: the 9 habits of maximum happiness at <a href="http://www.TheHappyGuy.com/happiness-self-help-book.html" target="_new">http://www.TheHappyGuy.com/happiness-self-help-book.html</a>. Visit him at <a href="http://www.TheHappyGuy.com" target="_new">http://www.TheHappyGuy.com</a>.

<a href="mailto:info@thehappyguy.com">info@thehappyguy.com</a>

Sweet Vengeance Purrfected

I love animals but cats are my favorites. There's just something about them that makes me relate to them so easily. My family has usually always had at least one cat among us as far back as I can remember. As with people there are just some animals that seem to have that special something. Harry was one of them. I fell in love with him almost immediately. The bond between us grew and Harry became my cherished friend and companion as well as a valued member of our family.

Harry's magnetic personality and charismatic manner almost always allowed him to get his way. But on those rare occasions when he was treated unjustly, his vengeance was anything but sweet.

My husband, Scott stood in the doorway looking out at the yard. The grass was quickly shooting up again from the recent rain. The day was sunny but the weather report called for rain the rest of the week.

"I think I'll go cut the grass," he said.

"I'll do it for you, Dad," volunteered Travis, our youngest son.

"It's supposed to rain. I want to get it cut before it gets any higher."

"Just let me finish eating my sandwich," Travis said.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Scott asked his son.

"No. I'll do it."

Travis gulped down the rest of his sandwich and washed it away with the last bit of pop in the glass. He got up from the table, picked up his plate and glass and placed them in the sink.

"Let me go change clothes first," he told his father.

Travis went upstairs and was back down in a flash. He took the keys from the counter, went outside, unlocked the shed and removed the lawn mower. A few moments later I could smell the sweet scent of fresh cut grass. I loved the smell of grass even though I suffered from most common allergies at that time of year.

Scott and I sat at the kitchen table, engaged in casual conversation when Travis reappeared in the doorway a short while later. His face was a bit flushed and his back had taken on a little more of a golden bronze hue. Little slivers of grass decorated his shoes, socks and lower legs.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said.

"Thanks for taking care of the yard, Trav."

"No problem, Dad."

When Scott rose to refill his glass with Pepsi he noticed Harry sitting in front of the bathroom door.

"He must need in to use the litterbox," I said.

Scott knocked on the bathroom door.

"Trav, Harry needs in to use the litterbox."

Travis did not reply. Assuming that he could not hear over the sound of the running water, Scott knocked a little harder. The water immediately turned off.

"What?!"

"Harry needs in to use the litterbox," Scott said.

"So," came the reply.

"Well, let him in."

"No. He can wait."

"If he goes to the bathroom on the floor you're cleaning it," his father warned.

Only silence came from the other side of the door. Then the rush of the water could be heard again. Harry continued to sit patiently in front of the door waiting to gain entrance. A few minutes later, after finally deciding that the door was not going to open, he gave up.

Travis had changed shoes before he went out to cut the grass. When he came back in, he removed his shoes and left both pair by the door. Harry walked over, sniffed the shoes and squatted. Although I made an attempt to stop him, it was too late. Harry had already urinated on both pair of Travis's shoes. Normally Scott would have been furious but this time he roared with laughter. Grasping his abdomen, he howled until his face was flushed and tears ran down his cheeks. Although I tried not to laugh, a few giggles managed to escape.

On hearing all the commotion, the bathroom door flew open. A still dripping, towel clad Travis appeared in the doorway.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You wouldn't let Harry in the bathroom so he used your shoes instead of the litterbox. Both pairs!" Scott pointed, as he tried to contain his laughter.

"What?! He didn't," Travis exclaimed as his jaw clenched in anger and his face reddened with embarrassment.

"He did," laughed my husband.

"Dad, it's not funny."

"Oh yes it is."

I nudged my husband to shut up. Scott was enjoying the moment just a little too much. Trav didn't have much of a sense of humor and even less when the joke was on him.

"Harry! Come here. You little...Wait till I get you," Trav muttered as Harry ran around the table.

"Leave him alone. It's nobody's fault but your own. You're the one who wouldn't open the door," his father pointed out. It seemed odd to hear Scott defend a cat but Harry had made a lasting impression on everyone including my husband.

He certainly made an impression on Travis that day. Finally eluded by Harry, Travis stomped back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Harry was the baby and he knew it. He flopped down on the throw rug in front of the door and groomed himself contentedly. He had proved his point and he was satisfied with the results. It didn't pay to piss Harry off. (Pardon the pun but I couldn't resist.)

Darlene Zagata is a freelance writer and columnist for the print publication Moon Shadows Magazine. She is also the author of "Aftertaste: A Collection of Poems" and "The Choosing." Her work has been published extensively both online and in print. For more information visit her website at <a target="_new" href="http://darlenezagata.tripod.com">http://darlenezagata.tripod.com</a> or contact Darlene at <a href="mailto:darzagata@yahoo.com">darzagata@yahoo.com</a>

Very Precise Fortune Cookies

I cracked open the fortune cookie and read the little slip of paper on the inside. Immediately I realized that it had been written by a weather forecaster.

"You will be approached in the late afternoon by a pink polka-dot octopus..."

It continued on the other side: "... and asked to provide details of your application for a yellow cloud mulching permit."

Two things struck me about this particular fortune. The first is that they have come a long way in their ability to predict exactly what will happen and when, just like weather forecasters. This is undoubtedly due to recent technological developments. Laser technology, for example. Nano technology. Robotics. Bioengineering. And so many other specialized fields have been developed to points of precision unimagined just a generation ago.

And it's not just the weather forecasters.

In London, Ontario, specialists are performing microscopic cardiac surgery on patients miles away using a robot named CSTAR (Can't you just wait for new parents to start naming their children after the famous surgeon, CSTAR?). This has opened up the door to many benefits, such as sending robots to remote locations without having to worry about a surgeon replacing the wrong organs due to jet lag.

But the real benefit was revealed when one surgeon confided in me: "You know the world is a better place when we don't have to scrub our hands before surgery anymore."

I can call anybody in North America on the telephone and they will answer in real time. Not only is this a better response than I can give people face-to-face, but the telephone cables direct my call to the exact person I want, saving the other 400 million telephone subscribers the inconvenience of having to say, "Wrong number...again!" Just a few decades ago, Switchboard Suzie was manually connecting everybody.

"Janice Land? No problem. I'll connect you." CLICK.

"No, wait. I wanted to speak to Janet Lam. Hello?"

My father can pinpoint the exact amount of blood sugar he packs in his veins. Not very long ago, people could not care less how much sugar was in their blood, as long as they had plenty of it in their double-fudge sundaes.

Yes technology has come a long way, allowing us to send and received very specific information in great detail and in great volumes, allowing such thrilling 21st century innovations as spam (I know, I know, the great spam innovators you admire most did their heroic deeds in the 20th century, but you ain't seen nothing yet!)

Despite the volume of information I receive in my inbox, there is one very disturbing element to all this extra free information, which brings me back to the second thing that struck me about my fortune cookie message.

It was wrong.

I waited all day for that pink polka-dot octopus to approach me, and it never did. Just because modern technology can deliver huge volumes of laser-detailed information, does not make that information valuable or even accurate.

Which brings me back to the revelation that a weather forecaster is now writing fortune cookies. Weather forecasts have become increasingly more precise. For instance, I am told that today it will hail in the town just east of here and be sunny in the town just west of here.

Once upon a time, the forecast would be simply "Sun and hail expected to pass through the region." Less accurate and less wrong. Just as useless, though.

Maybe we should hire CSTAR to make the fortune cookies. Surely CSTAR would deliver fortunes that are not only precise but also accurate, right? As a bonus, the pastry chefs won't have to scrub their hands before baking.

And I wouldn't have to wait for a pink polka-dot octopus all afternoon.

About The Author

David Leonhardt is author of Climb Your Stairway to Heaven

<a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/bookSearch/isbnInquiry.asp?ISBN=059517826X" target="_new">http://search.barnesandnoble.com/bookSearch/isbnInquiry.asp?ISBN=059517826X</a>

Read more personal growth articles: <a href="http://www.thehappyguy.com/self-actualization-articles.html" target="_new">http://www.thehappyguy.com/self-actualization-articles.html</a>

Visit his liquid vitamins store: <a href="http://www.vitamin-supplements-store.net" target="_new">http://www.vitamin-supplements-store.net</a>

Or his happiness website: <a href="http://www.thehappyguy.com" target="_new">http://www.thehappyguy.com</a>

<a href="mailto:Info@thehappyguy.com">Info@thehappyguy.com</a>