Philisophical Woodworking Question

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Sat, Dec 4, 2004, 8:17am snipped-for-privacy@primelink1.net (C&S) says: <snip> stepping down off a my workmate with my full eight onto a nail.<snip>
My oldest son did something like that. Except it was at school, and one nail in each foot. One got infected, one didn't. And, he wound up in the hospital, with the foot being operated on, then in the hospital again, and almost another operation, to take a toe, but then they decided to try an IV antibiotic. Three weeks of that, three times a day, and he finally cured. Came damn close to losing the entire foot tho. The bill was $24-25,000 or more.
JOAT Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind dont matter, and those who matter dont mind. - Dr Seuss
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Upscale writes:

Yeah. Something like the "a little stick" preceding a needle, whether for an injection of knee lube or a blood test. The BT is little. The knee lube ain't, and after #1, you know it won't be.
Charlie Self "Ambition is a poor excuse for not having sense enough to be lazy." Edgar Bergen, (Charlie McCarthy)
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Sat, Dec 4, 2004, 5:59am snipped-for-privacy@rogers.com (Upscale) says: Somehow, I think tearing ligaments around the groin would be a little more painful, <snip>
This guy was in an emergency room all tore up from a car accident, but just lying there as if he didn't hurt at all.
The ER doctor was amazed. He asked the guy, "Aren't you in pain?". And, the guy says, "Yeah, it's the third worst pain I've ever had in my life".
The doctor was amazed, and asked, "What was the second worst pain?". The guy replies, "Well, one day I was out hunting, and had to go. So, I pulled my pants down, and squatted. And, squatted right down on a bear trap".
The doctor was absolutely astounded, and asked, "If that was the second worst pain you ever had, what wat the worst?". And the guy replies, "When I ran out of chain".
JOAT Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind dont matter, and those who matter dont mind. - Dr Seuss
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>This is not my fault. This morning I was thinking, and I thought about the recent thread on Pondering in the Workshop.
Accidental thinking... I hate it when that happens
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Maybe he never missed...... :)
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We have a saying in EMS (emergency medicine), "Sick patients don't bitch". Meaning, if they're well enough to be hollering, they're gonna be just fine. Usually. There's another saying that if the patient says they're gonna die, they're usually right, but there isn't one to address when these two seemingly contradict.
Dave "No point, sorry, move along" Hinz
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Sat, Dec 4, 2004, 4:04am (EST+5) snipped-for-privacy@telus.net (ChrisMelanson) says: <snip> HOARE" <snip> Reminds me of an old joak.
This college kid was in a bar, and at the next table this guy and a woman are talking. All of a sudden she burst out crying and the guy leaves.
The college kid goes to her table, she was hot, and sits down to comfort her. He asks why she's crying. And, she tells him the guy called her a terrible name. Well, the kid wants to know what he called her. "Oh, it's a terrible word, and I couldn't repeat it". So, the kid tells her to spell it for him. So, she leans over and whispers in his ear. He immediately jumps up, and shouts out, "No dammit, it starts with a W, not an H".
JOAT Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind dont matter, and those who matter dont mind. - Dr Seuss
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wrote:

Prime number. Primes are always funnier.
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On Fri, 3 Dec 2004 14:01:45 -0500, snipped-for-privacy@webtv.net (J T) wrote:

The Village Blacksmith
Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.
And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Toiling,---rejoicing,---sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
Regards, Tom.
"People funny. Life a funny thing." Sonny Liston
Thomas J.Watson - Cabinetmaker (ret.) tjwatson1ATcomcastDOTnet (real email) http://home.comcast.net/~tjwatson1
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