Looking for some Biblical guidance? Let your mouse do the walking thru these yellow pages.

This is just one more example of what an amazing God we serve.

Watch this incredible story.

Cars are manufactured today with all kinds of gadgets - OnStar, navigation systems, dvd players, hands free phone systems, etc. Here is a new gadget that is currently being tested. It definitely shows some promise.

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A new automotive fad is sweeping the nation and you can hear it coming from a mile away. Are you ready?

I just took a driver’s quiz at RoadRagers.com. Below are the results of my quiz. Take the quiz and then post your results in a comment. I need to know if I need to keep an eye out for you on the road.

Here are your personal scores/results in the four areas that we analyzed:

You are a Safe Driver

Your Safety Score: 72.5 %

The average score among all people who have recently taken this test is 69.19%

You are a Marginally Aggressive Driver

Your Degree of Aggressiveness: 50 %

The average score among all people who have recently taken this test is 57.02%

You are a Very Courteous Driver

Your Courtesy Score: 85 %

The average score among all people who have recently taken this test is 73.75%

You are a Potential Road Rager

Your Degree of Rage: 52.5 %

The average score among all people who have recently taken this test is 55.55%%

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shack
Not a thing was a movin’ — from the front to the back,

The kids were in bed, I believe we had nine.
The wife in her curlers, was lookin’ real fine.

A cold wind was blowin’, up the holler it moaned.
All seven dogs on the porch howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin’ of weapons and guns.
For killin’ God’s creatures, there’s no better fun.

The girls in their feminine dreams were attuned,
To getting those gallons of Wal-Mart perfume.

The wife wanted jewelry, like rings with big rocks.
I wanted my Chevy, down off the blocks.

Then in the yard, such a noise did commence
Like something was caught, in the barb-wire fence.

I ran to the window, and saw pretty quick.
The man makin’ the racket, was Good Ol’ St. Nick.

You may think of Santa, in your own mind’s eye,
Dressed in a red and white suit, but I’ve got a surprise.

That old boy’s an Arkie, our fair state he won’t fail’er.
He married his cousin, and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas, of course, a sleigh for his rig,
He hooks the thing up, to a razorback pig.

He climbed on the roof, with his bag full of goodies.
He backed down the fireplace, all dirty and sooty.

Fat legs in his britches, chubby hands in his mittens,
I admit from the back, he looked like Bill Clinton.

He turned toward the tree, his eyes all aglow.
He was a Southern boy, from his head to his toe.

His neck was a red one, His shirt said “Light Beer.”
There was no red hat, his cap read,”John Deere.”

He left all the presents, with an air of delight.
Then it was back to the chimney, and into the night.

He ran into the yard, and threw his bag in the sleigh.
Then he yelled at the dogs, to get out of the way.

And I heard him exclaim, as those pigs took to flight,
Merry Christmas to all, And to all …A “Bud lite!”