(This is from Lover2's site at Life of a married women. I'd thought I'd answer the questons here. You can check her answers at her blog.)

Guilty or Innocent?

This is the Guilty Game. Next to the questions, put your answers as either guilty or innocent. Guilty if you have, innocent if you haven't. Re-post and see what others have or have not done! No pleading the 5th.

Dated outside your race?
guilty

Have a one night stand?
guilty

Hooked up on the first date?
guilty

Singing in the shower
guilty

Spit in someones drink?
innocent

Played with Barbies?
Does blowing them up count?

Made someone cry?
guilty

Lied to a friend?
guilty

Seen "The Goonies" more than 10 times?
innocent

Played a Computer game for more than 5 hours?
guilty

Ran through the sprinklers naked?
innocent

Ate food that fell on the floor?
guilty

Went outside naked?
innocent

Got caught cheatin?
guilty

Got caught doing the 'deed'?
guilty

Flashed somebody?
innocent

Mooned somebody?
innocent

Been on stage?
guilty

Been on stage naked or close to it?
innocent

Been in a parade?
guilty

Been in a school play?
guilty

Drank beer?
guilty

Gotten detention?
guilty

Been on a plane?
guilty

Been on a cruise?
guilty

Broken into a house?
innocent

Gotten a tattoo?
guilty

Gotten piercings?
guilty

Gotten into a fist fight?
guilty

Gotten into a shouting match?
guilty

Swallowed sea/pool water?
guilty

Spun yourself in circles to get dizzy on purpose?
guilty

Laughed so hard it hurt?
innocent

Tripped on your own feet?
guilty

Had sex with more than one person in a day?
innocent

Cried yourself to sleep?
guilty

Cried in public?
Does a movie theater count?

Thrown up in public?
innocent

Lied to your parents?
guilty

Skipped class?
guilty

Cried so hard you stopped breathing?
innocent

Lied somewhere on this survey?
innocent

YOU'RE TURN! PASS IT ON! Leave me a comment if you re-post so I can check it out.

Most of my life's major decisions were made while I was under the influence.

First, a little background: I didn't take my first drink of alcohol until I was 18. I practically haven't stopped since then. In Colorado when I was growing up, you could buy 3.2 percent beer at the age of 18. There were 3.2 bars, and my friends and I went to them all. There wasn't a night of the week we weren't either at the 3.2 bar or some kegger. At the same time, nearby Wyoming's drinking age was 19, with full-service liquor there. It wasn't a long drive to go visit the cowboy bars there. (Let me tell you that Wyoming has some mighty fine cowgirls, for sure.) So, I took my first drink at my high school graduation party and rarely stopped. You add in a little college and all the independence and alcohol that comes with it, and bam, I had a serious drinking problem.

So, after a year-and-half of college, I needed a change. I was out of money and tired of being drunk all the time. So, I joined the Army. I signed up for a cushy desk job and off I went. Little did I know that I was joining the world's biggest alcoholic's club. I learned from some grizzled sergeants how to hide your drink while you were on duty. Heck, a few of them even took me to the base bar in the middle of the day for some lunch fun. I thought that I was a hard drinker, but I didn't know anything compared with these guys.

One day in 1989, I got the call we were all waiting for during that time: My unit was pegged to go to the Persian Gulf to help restore peace after Iraq's invasion of Kuwait. I was a legal clerk assigned to the most mobile military police battalion in the Army. So, a couple of weeks later, we were in the desert for Operation Desert Shield/Storm. I saw this as an opportunity to get dry, so to speak. We were supposed to have a liquor free zone while over there, but a few ingenious people found ways to drink. I, however, looked forward to being dry. The closest I got to drinking was a couple of non-alcoholic beers that just didn't hit the spot.

Six months later, the war was over and I was back stateside. It didn't take me long to have that first drink. Actually, on the plane ride home, we all had a couple of drinks. We were given about three weeks leave, and I spent that entire time drinking and spending money on strippers. Let me tell you, Lola was real glad to make my acquaintance. Lola was an exotic dancer, and she would do anything for a little money. I mean anything. The stories I could tell you about Lola. But I digress. This story has nothing to do with Lola, and everything to do with drinking.

So I found myself back in the drinker's club that is the Army, doing the routine: get up at 5 a.m., do physical training, report to work, put your day in (with some stops at the local base bar for some lunch fun), get off duty, pick up three 40-ounce MGDs for the night, drink all night, go to bed, and get up and do it all again. I was a functioning alcoholic, whatever that means.

My whole life is about digressions. So I changed my blog title to reflect that.

I can't even say I experienced all those mind-altering drugs people had in the 60s as a reason for my digressions. In fact, my experience with drugs is very minimal. I had a hit of acid once. I don't think it worked, at least it didn't make me feel differently, and I don't have violent flashbacks (or any for that matter) beause of that acid. In high school, I tried to smoke weed with my brother. Problem is, I never learned to properly inhale. So I was never really into that weed scene. My uncle took me on a journey to self exploration once, and of course, this journey was punctuated with lots of peyote shot up my arm. I didn't learn a lot about myself, though, just reaffirmation that, indeed, I was the same loser I always was. Never tried coke, never tried meth, heroin, or most any other drug. I have an addictive personality, so I fear that if I did try drugs, that would be it for me: I would be hooked for life. (Talk to me sometime about my battles with alcohol. That's another story, for sure.)

But I digress. Drugs have nothing to do with why I changed my blog name.

Enjoy your day.

Bill Clinton, George Bush and George Washington were on the Titanic.
As the boat was sinking, George Washington heroically shouts, ''Save the women!''
George Bush hysterically screeches, ''Screw the women!''
And Bill Clinton smirks and purrs, ''Do we have time?'

One day in the future, George W. Bush has a heart attack and dies. He immediately goes to hell, where the devil is waiting for him.

"I don't know what to do," says the devil. "You are on my list, but I have no room for you. You definitely have to stay here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I've got some folks here who weren't quite as bad as you. I'll let one of them go, but you have to take their place.

I'll even let YOU decide who leaves." Bush thought that sounded pretty good, so the devil opened the first room.

In it was Ronald Reagan and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and surfacing empty handed. Over and over and over. Such was his fate in hell. "No, George said. "I don't think so. I'm not a good swimmer and I don't think I could do that all day long."

The devil led him to the next room. In it was Richard Nixon with a sledge hammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, time after time after time. "No, I've got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day," commented George.

The devil opened a third door. In it, Bush saw Bill Clinton, lying on the floor with his arms staked over his head, and his legs staked in a spread eagle pose. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best. Bush took this in disbelief and finally said, "Yea, I can handle this." The devil smiled and said "OK, Monica, you're free to go."