Thursday, August 23, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Swift Bank To Comply Slower
Swift Bank To Comply Slower
by: Tom Attea
Just when George Bush was winning a victory in the Senate for the right to handle terrorists in a moderately terrifying way, it looks as if he can expect slower help from Swift, the Belgian banking consortium known as the letterhead-heavy Society for Worldwide Interbank Financial Telecommunications.
The banking group was reprimanded by Belgium’s privacy protection commission for aiding the US counterterrorism effort by providing confidential data about money transfers.
The commission’s report stated, “It has to be seen as a gross miscalculation by Swift that it has, for years, secretly and systematically transferred massive amounts of personal data for surveillance without effective and clear legal basis and independent controls in line with Belgian and European law.”
On a swifter note, Prime Minister Guy Verhofstadt of Belgium, who presented the report, admitted that sharing such information is essential to curbing terrorism. He sounded more intent that European privacy rules would be respected, saying, “Swift finds itself in a conflicting position between American and European law. But it should have received stronger guarantees of privacy protection based on European standards — not by American standards, which are not as strong.”
While Swift dismissed criticism, maintaining it had assurances the data would be used only in regard to the investigation of terrorism, the CEO, Leonard Schrank, essentially threw up his arms, noting, “We need an agreement between the E.U. and the U.S. that recognizes the global threat of terrorism but has a comfort level for those seeking to guarantee data protection. We are caught between complying with the U.S. and European rules, and it’s a train wreck. But what we have done saves lives in the U.S. and Europe and we must not lose sight of that.”
His outfit really is between a rock and hard place. While based in Belgium, it does significant business in the US. So, whether or not the Euros like it, Swift is obliged to obey subpoenas from US authorities.
How many wrinkles will terrorism make in the orderly operations of the comparatively civilized world and how disruptive will they become? Only Allah knows.
by: Tom Attea
Just when George Bush was winning a victory in the Senate for the right to handle terrorists in a moderately terrifying way, it looks as if he can expect slower help from Swift, the Belgian banking consortium known as the letterhead-heavy Society for Worldwide Interbank Financial Telecommunications.
The banking group was reprimanded by Belgium’s privacy protection commission for aiding the US counterterrorism effort by providing confidential data about money transfers.
The commission’s report stated, “It has to be seen as a gross miscalculation by Swift that it has, for years, secretly and systematically transferred massive amounts of personal data for surveillance without effective and clear legal basis and independent controls in line with Belgian and European law.”
On a swifter note, Prime Minister Guy Verhofstadt of Belgium, who presented the report, admitted that sharing such information is essential to curbing terrorism. He sounded more intent that European privacy rules would be respected, saying, “Swift finds itself in a conflicting position between American and European law. But it should have received stronger guarantees of privacy protection based on European standards — not by American standards, which are not as strong.”
While Swift dismissed criticism, maintaining it had assurances the data would be used only in regard to the investigation of terrorism, the CEO, Leonard Schrank, essentially threw up his arms, noting, “We need an agreement between the E.U. and the U.S. that recognizes the global threat of terrorism but has a comfort level for those seeking to guarantee data protection. We are caught between complying with the U.S. and European rules, and it’s a train wreck. But what we have done saves lives in the U.S. and Europe and we must not lose sight of that.”
His outfit really is between a rock and hard place. While based in Belgium, it does significant business in the US. So, whether or not the Euros like it, Swift is obliged to obey subpoenas from US authorities.
How many wrinkles will terrorism make in the orderly operations of the comparatively civilized world and how disruptive will they become? Only Allah knows.
Even the Gods Laugh: How Humor Becomes Transformational
Even the Gods Laugh: How Humor Becomes Transformational
by: Diane English
Most of our lives have become caught up in the dizzying stress, anxiety and self-created drama of the fast paced, twenty-first century. It was slower back in the 14th Century; I miss those days. Just the story of being a member of the human race can make you terminally depressed and confused. It may be inevitable that everyone on Earth is challenged by negativity in life; but it is far from inevitable that we have to keep the soap opera going. Besides breathing, humor and laughter are the simplest and most natural paths to joy and when embraced a powerful transformation takes place. With intention, this change leads to healing and freedom in unexpected ways. Here are some pointers:
Stage One: Questioning Your Beliefs
I define humor as “a break with consensus reality” or, what you think is happening, isn't. Each of us has a belief system that has been imposed on us right from birth and those beliefs either affirm or deny our power. You can bet that consensus reality (parents, TV, radio, news, politicians, etc) is not about to affirm that we are Infinite Love in form. We are constantly reminded that we're victims, helpless worms of the dust and in dire need of Viagra. We're not, not even close!
Stage Two: Healing
Scientists and doctors have documented research that humor and laughter are beneficial for the body. Norman Cousins, while ill with a severe connective tissue disease, was the first to write a bestseller about the healing power of humor. He was able to document how watching Candid Camera and the Marx Brothers allowed him to significantly decrease his physical pain with laughter. It was later discovered that laughter also massages the organs, builds the immune system with beneficial hormones, releases mood-elevating endorphins and lowers blood pressure. What a wonderful and legal way to get high! Just laugh. See the absurdity of what we all take seriously, especially what YOU personally take seriously. Just how important is it? Since we all die, (more or less), put it in perspective. Somebody famous said, "There is not one shred of evidence that life is serious" and I seriously agree with that. What good does it do to feel bad, depressed or guilty? You don't have to, you've been taught to. There is nothing we have to learn. THERE IS A LOT WE HAVE TO UNLEARN.
Stage Three: Uncovering Who You Really Are
This three dimensional world is only part of who we are. At our core we are infinite love. Once we shift out of every day reality to see our own magnificence and experience the joy of living in the present moment that laughter initiates, we can release the beliefs, which keep us from living spontaneously. According to professor of psychiatry William Fry, M.D., at Stanford University Medical School, the average child in kindergarten laughs 300 times a day while adults only laugh approximately 17 times each day. (Are we crabby, or what!) This is why children have more imagination and heal faster than adults. Children live free until taught shame and guilt; reclaiming your childlike energy is the key to transformation.
Let yourself giggle as an expression of your own freedom or better yet, double over with laughter. Ah, but I can hear you saying: what about all the awful stuff that happens? What I'm talking about is a MAJOR SHIFT in your thinking. Imagine for one moment, that millions of people on the planet believed laughter is the best medicine and all at once we started to laugh. Go ahead......start now...giggle, chuckle, gafaw right now. Laughter is contagious and others will catch it and begin laughing too; then another and another. Can you feel what that would be like? Can you feel the potential, the release, the love and joy that would envelope the entire planet? Anything is possible, anything. “Even the gods love jokes,” said Plato. That is because the Cosmic Cookie knows the importance and power of laughter. Nature invented it for a reason. Humor and laughter are sacred, they are the Universal keys to the unexpected joy of release and the inspiration of new perspectives. Once you have unlocked this door your life will never be the same. To experience more humor as a gift from Spirit please visit http://www.greatcosmichappyass.com.
by: Diane English
Most of our lives have become caught up in the dizzying stress, anxiety and self-created drama of the fast paced, twenty-first century. It was slower back in the 14th Century; I miss those days. Just the story of being a member of the human race can make you terminally depressed and confused. It may be inevitable that everyone on Earth is challenged by negativity in life; but it is far from inevitable that we have to keep the soap opera going. Besides breathing, humor and laughter are the simplest and most natural paths to joy and when embraced a powerful transformation takes place. With intention, this change leads to healing and freedom in unexpected ways. Here are some pointers:
Stage One: Questioning Your Beliefs
I define humor as “a break with consensus reality” or, what you think is happening, isn't. Each of us has a belief system that has been imposed on us right from birth and those beliefs either affirm or deny our power. You can bet that consensus reality (parents, TV, radio, news, politicians, etc) is not about to affirm that we are Infinite Love in form. We are constantly reminded that we're victims, helpless worms of the dust and in dire need of Viagra. We're not, not even close!
Stage Two: Healing
Scientists and doctors have documented research that humor and laughter are beneficial for the body. Norman Cousins, while ill with a severe connective tissue disease, was the first to write a bestseller about the healing power of humor. He was able to document how watching Candid Camera and the Marx Brothers allowed him to significantly decrease his physical pain with laughter. It was later discovered that laughter also massages the organs, builds the immune system with beneficial hormones, releases mood-elevating endorphins and lowers blood pressure. What a wonderful and legal way to get high! Just laugh. See the absurdity of what we all take seriously, especially what YOU personally take seriously. Just how important is it? Since we all die, (more or less), put it in perspective. Somebody famous said, "There is not one shred of evidence that life is serious" and I seriously agree with that. What good does it do to feel bad, depressed or guilty? You don't have to, you've been taught to. There is nothing we have to learn. THERE IS A LOT WE HAVE TO UNLEARN.
Stage Three: Uncovering Who You Really Are
This three dimensional world is only part of who we are. At our core we are infinite love. Once we shift out of every day reality to see our own magnificence and experience the joy of living in the present moment that laughter initiates, we can release the beliefs, which keep us from living spontaneously. According to professor of psychiatry William Fry, M.D., at Stanford University Medical School, the average child in kindergarten laughs 300 times a day while adults only laugh approximately 17 times each day. (Are we crabby, or what!) This is why children have more imagination and heal faster than adults. Children live free until taught shame and guilt; reclaiming your childlike energy is the key to transformation.
Let yourself giggle as an expression of your own freedom or better yet, double over with laughter. Ah, but I can hear you saying: what about all the awful stuff that happens? What I'm talking about is a MAJOR SHIFT in your thinking. Imagine for one moment, that millions of people on the planet believed laughter is the best medicine and all at once we started to laugh. Go ahead......start now...giggle, chuckle, gafaw right now. Laughter is contagious and others will catch it and begin laughing too; then another and another. Can you feel what that would be like? Can you feel the potential, the release, the love and joy that would envelope the entire planet? Anything is possible, anything. “Even the gods love jokes,” said Plato. That is because the Cosmic Cookie knows the importance and power of laughter. Nature invented it for a reason. Humor and laughter are sacred, they are the Universal keys to the unexpected joy of release and the inspiration of new perspectives. Once you have unlocked this door your life will never be the same. To experience more humor as a gift from Spirit please visit http://www.greatcosmichappyass.com.
How Time Flies When I Am In A Hurry
How Time Flies When I Am In A Hurry
by: Rev. James L. Snyder
Have you ever noticed that when you are on vacation time goes by rapidly? According to my calculations (and I'm the first to admit I didn't do well in calculus), the average minute during vacation time is less than 20 seconds. This is one reason time goes by so quickly on vacation.
The other reason, as everyone knows, is that during a vacation week there are no days beginning with the letter “T.” Now, you know why your vacation went by so quickly this summer. There are always reasons if you are willing to dig hard enough.
Now, if this is true, the question plaguing my mind is: where does all that time go?
Have you ever noticed that when you are in a hurry to go somewhere it usually takes twice as long to get there? It does not matter what time of day it is, or which day it is for that matter, for when you are running a tad late for some appointment across town, Old Father Time insists that you go through an intricate obstacle course. It is his way of having a little fun. After all, the old boy needs some kind of diversion.
For example, if I am leisurely driving across town with plenty of time on my hands, I never hit a red light. Every traffic light is green and there have been times when I have arrived at my destination 10 minutes before I left.
On the other hand, if I am in a hurry and running just the slightest late, this is immediately brought to the attention of Father Time. He rubs his hands with glee and begins his work. Immediately, every traffic light in town is on the alert for my arrival. Their instruction from Father Time is quite simple. “When you see Rev. Snyder coming, turn red.”
Sometimes all the attention Father Time gives me embarrasses me.
Then there is the train on 17th Street. I can travel this street for weeks and never see that train. There have been times when I have wondered if the train has ceased running.
Then, I am in a hurry and everything changes. It has yet to fail me. When running late, the train always runs slow and, on my honor, the longest and slowest train is reserved for me.
Perhaps the worse time trick Old Father Time plays on me is at the checkout counter. The checkout personnel are especially trained by Father Time. In one week alone, I found 17 days that I lost during my vacation in 1978, just at a checkout counter.
Last week my wife and I were in a hurry to some appointment. It really does not matter what the appointment was, we never really got there, thanks to Old Father Time. On the way to this appointment, I said something quite foolish to my wife. (What husband hasn't?)
“Honey,” I said as innocently as any husband can, “I need to stop at the grocery store for something.” Right then a huge red light went off to alert Father Time of my intention. That wasn't enough. I also told her, as I jumped out of the car, “This will only take a minute.” With that, I bounded into the store.
This put Old Father Time into hysterics. He lives for this kind of situation.
When I got in the store, I knew exactly where the item was that I needed. Voila ... somehow, store management had a premonition that I would be coming in this day and that I would be in a hurry. They did the only thing they could do in that situation — completely rearrange the store — all in my honor.
Now, not only was I in a hurry but also I could not find the product I was after. If I wasn't a man, I could asked for directions.
My wife, tired of waiting in the car, came in and found the item for me. Now all I needed to do was get it through the checkout.
Have you ever noticed that no matter what line you get in it is always the slowest? Even if I am the only one in the checkout, I have no better luck. Usually in that situation, I get the trainee on her first day working all alone.
Am I getting harder of hearing or are young people, especially young women, speaking a different language? It took me 10 minutes to realize that the young trainee was merely saying, “Hello, how are you?”
Of course, I wanted to pay for my purchase with a check. It was then that Old Father Time roared with devilish delight. To use a check at many places requires 16 independent forms of identification and a note from your mother. At the time, I only had 15.
By the time my wife and I got to our car, it was too late for our important appointment. Father Time won another one.
Time is important and often we are guilty of wasting it. The biggest area where people waste time is regarding their relationship with God.
The Apostle Paul warned of this in his letter to the Romans. “And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” (Romans 13:11 KJV.)
by: Rev. James L. Snyder
Have you ever noticed that when you are on vacation time goes by rapidly? According to my calculations (and I'm the first to admit I didn't do well in calculus), the average minute during vacation time is less than 20 seconds. This is one reason time goes by so quickly on vacation.
The other reason, as everyone knows, is that during a vacation week there are no days beginning with the letter “T.” Now, you know why your vacation went by so quickly this summer. There are always reasons if you are willing to dig hard enough.
Now, if this is true, the question plaguing my mind is: where does all that time go?
Have you ever noticed that when you are in a hurry to go somewhere it usually takes twice as long to get there? It does not matter what time of day it is, or which day it is for that matter, for when you are running a tad late for some appointment across town, Old Father Time insists that you go through an intricate obstacle course. It is his way of having a little fun. After all, the old boy needs some kind of diversion.
For example, if I am leisurely driving across town with plenty of time on my hands, I never hit a red light. Every traffic light is green and there have been times when I have arrived at my destination 10 minutes before I left.
On the other hand, if I am in a hurry and running just the slightest late, this is immediately brought to the attention of Father Time. He rubs his hands with glee and begins his work. Immediately, every traffic light in town is on the alert for my arrival. Their instruction from Father Time is quite simple. “When you see Rev. Snyder coming, turn red.”
Sometimes all the attention Father Time gives me embarrasses me.
Then there is the train on 17th Street. I can travel this street for weeks and never see that train. There have been times when I have wondered if the train has ceased running.
Then, I am in a hurry and everything changes. It has yet to fail me. When running late, the train always runs slow and, on my honor, the longest and slowest train is reserved for me.
Perhaps the worse time trick Old Father Time plays on me is at the checkout counter. The checkout personnel are especially trained by Father Time. In one week alone, I found 17 days that I lost during my vacation in 1978, just at a checkout counter.
Last week my wife and I were in a hurry to some appointment. It really does not matter what the appointment was, we never really got there, thanks to Old Father Time. On the way to this appointment, I said something quite foolish to my wife. (What husband hasn't?)
“Honey,” I said as innocently as any husband can, “I need to stop at the grocery store for something.” Right then a huge red light went off to alert Father Time of my intention. That wasn't enough. I also told her, as I jumped out of the car, “This will only take a minute.” With that, I bounded into the store.
This put Old Father Time into hysterics. He lives for this kind of situation.
When I got in the store, I knew exactly where the item was that I needed. Voila ... somehow, store management had a premonition that I would be coming in this day and that I would be in a hurry. They did the only thing they could do in that situation — completely rearrange the store — all in my honor.
Now, not only was I in a hurry but also I could not find the product I was after. If I wasn't a man, I could asked for directions.
My wife, tired of waiting in the car, came in and found the item for me. Now all I needed to do was get it through the checkout.
Have you ever noticed that no matter what line you get in it is always the slowest? Even if I am the only one in the checkout, I have no better luck. Usually in that situation, I get the trainee on her first day working all alone.
Am I getting harder of hearing or are young people, especially young women, speaking a different language? It took me 10 minutes to realize that the young trainee was merely saying, “Hello, how are you?”
Of course, I wanted to pay for my purchase with a check. It was then that Old Father Time roared with devilish delight. To use a check at many places requires 16 independent forms of identification and a note from your mother. At the time, I only had 15.
By the time my wife and I got to our car, it was too late for our important appointment. Father Time won another one.
Time is important and often we are guilty of wasting it. The biggest area where people waste time is regarding their relationship with God.
The Apostle Paul warned of this in his letter to the Romans. “And that, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” (Romans 13:11 KJV.)
Toyoto Introduces The Toy: The First Pedal Car For Adults
Toyoto Introduces The Toy: The First Pedal Car For Adults
by: Tom Attea
In an effort to rescue drivers from the high cost of gasoline, Toyota has announced the introduction of the Toy, the first car for grownups that is operated like a child’s pedal car.
Its main benefit is, of course, that it requires no gas. There is, however, a limit as to how far the vehicle can travel on one adult’s leg power.
The resourceful auto giant maintains that the encumbrance is not a drawback at all, because adults can change places at the wheel. While one pedals, the other can rest.
The company also proclaims that the new car is the first that “conditions you while you drive.” As a result, it claims that the vehicle will benefit all purchasers with improved heart health, greater longevity and, most vital of all, increased energy to pedal all the farther.
“We view the Toy as our most advanced product,” the chairman of Toyota avowed. “It’s way out in front of even our own hybrids in term of fuel efficiency, and it saves a lot of steps in the production of ethanol. Now, drivers need only eat corn and soy beans to generate energy to propel the vehicle.”
One of the first owners of the Toy was ecstatic. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to pedal past a gas station and know you no longer have to pull in and empty your wallet. But pedaling for miles can take some getting used to. When I work up a sweat, I’m really happy that the Toy comes with air conditioning. I just reach out and start to crank the dashboard-mounted fan.”
by: Tom Attea
In an effort to rescue drivers from the high cost of gasoline, Toyota has announced the introduction of the Toy, the first car for grownups that is operated like a child’s pedal car.
Its main benefit is, of course, that it requires no gas. There is, however, a limit as to how far the vehicle can travel on one adult’s leg power.
The resourceful auto giant maintains that the encumbrance is not a drawback at all, because adults can change places at the wheel. While one pedals, the other can rest.
The company also proclaims that the new car is the first that “conditions you while you drive.” As a result, it claims that the vehicle will benefit all purchasers with improved heart health, greater longevity and, most vital of all, increased energy to pedal all the farther.
“We view the Toy as our most advanced product,” the chairman of Toyota avowed. “It’s way out in front of even our own hybrids in term of fuel efficiency, and it saves a lot of steps in the production of ethanol. Now, drivers need only eat corn and soy beans to generate energy to propel the vehicle.”
One of the first owners of the Toy was ecstatic. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to pedal past a gas station and know you no longer have to pull in and empty your wallet. But pedaling for miles can take some getting used to. When I work up a sweat, I’m really happy that the Toy comes with air conditioning. I just reach out and start to crank the dashboard-mounted fan.”
The Perks of Global Warming
The Perks of Global Warming
by: Nola L. Kelsey
Marya Mannes once wrote, “The earth we abuse and the living things we kill will, in the end, take their revenge; for in exploiting their presence we are diminishing our future.” Obviously Ms. Mannes preferred the status quo - health, sanity, logic, blah, blah, blah. Why? Green House Roulette is so much more intriguing.
In the country, weather affects everything. For five years Western South Dakota has been gripped by drought. Water and hay are vanishing. Farms and ranches are blowing away. While the government bails out victims from hurricanes and says, ‘South Dawho?’ our cattle are pissing dust mites. Fortunately, things are looking up.
There is some good news! Those pesky glaciers are finally melting off! Last year an eight-nation report estimated an area of Arctic icepack the size of Texas and Kansas is gone. For those who are geographically impaired, that is an area bigger than a breadbox.
At first, news of devastating global climate change might seem a bit of a bummer. Then I read an LA Times article and had a change of heart. The article began with the usual gloom. Greenland’s ice cap is melting. Our coasts will flood from rising seawater. Inuit hunters are falling through thinning ice. Melting glaciers change ocean temperature and salinity contorting the jet stream, which results in altered weather patterns worldwide. Multitudes of species are dying off . . . It was disheartening.
Then I got to the article’s final paragraph. Bam! My faith was restored. Here the Times pointed out the perks of global warming. Seriously, the article actually ended saying: “The report is not all gloomy. A warmer Arctic could increase the number of some species, such as Arctic char, a fish. It could extend the growing season for wheat in Canada and open up now-treacherous sea routes, such as the Northwest Passage and the Northern Sea Route, which parallels Russia, for shipping and resource exploration.”
Three cheers for the LA Times! It’s true! All is not gloomy. With that glorious bit of sunshine pumped straight up my ski bibs, I was able to see things in a whole new light. I started thinking of other advantages to global warming. Soon you will agree that people from all walks of life will benefit.
For starters, Inuit Hunters will benefit! Once Inuit have nothing left to hunt there will be no need for them to risk falling through thin ice. Plus, by needing food they will be ripe for a floating (pontoons, not ice) Arctic Super Wal-Mart. “Go get ‘em, Sam.”
Boat owners will benefit! Not only will there be smooth sailing through the formerly bothersome ice of the Northwest Passage, but each summer, cruise ships will be able to run tourists straight up Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Scuba Divers will benefit! There will be no more burning coral cuts. In fact there will be no more coral. Once all the reefs are gone, divers can pack away first aid kits and dive straight in. A little silt never cut anyone.
Canadian Wheat Farmers will benefit! You see, there is a 10% decrease in yield of corn from Midwest crops for every degree of global warming. No worries though, now wheat can take the place of corn. Think about all those scrumptious Wheat Dogs at the ball game. How about popped wheat with butter at the movies or steaming wheat on the cob? All scream ‘yummy’ to me.
While it is a bit ironic that ethanol is made from the corn crops global warming devastates, I am sure some aspiring chemist will rise to the challenge of developing ‘Wheatanol.’ Imagine Canuck Wheat Farmers having more influence than the Saudi Royal Family.
Dune-Buggy enthusiasts will benefit! The Dakotas will soon reopen for your 4-wheelin’ pleasure. Join the Mount Rushmore Nose Climb on July 4th! It will be a bugger of a challenge!
Eco-Tourism Operators will benefit! Companies could offer new “Emaciation Tour Packages.” Tourists get closer photos of polar bears and whales when they are too lethargic from starvation to meander away. In addition, long treks to Inuit villages can be avoided once they are forced to beg on the streets of Nome (or cashiering at Wal-Mart).
Finally, the next generation of Bush family politicians will benefit! Once again they can avoid addressing campaign issues, this time by distracting dehydrated voters with witty campaign phrases like; “No Kyoto Pact-No Ice Pack,” or “Dead Seals Never Flip-Flop,” even promising “No Char Left Behind.” Not to mention offering new, SPF 80 tax credits.
Well, by golly, I do feel better! Shall we spin the Rolette wheel some more?
by: Nola L. Kelsey
Marya Mannes once wrote, “The earth we abuse and the living things we kill will, in the end, take their revenge; for in exploiting their presence we are diminishing our future.” Obviously Ms. Mannes preferred the status quo - health, sanity, logic, blah, blah, blah. Why? Green House Roulette is so much more intriguing.
In the country, weather affects everything. For five years Western South Dakota has been gripped by drought. Water and hay are vanishing. Farms and ranches are blowing away. While the government bails out victims from hurricanes and says, ‘South Dawho?’ our cattle are pissing dust mites. Fortunately, things are looking up.
There is some good news! Those pesky glaciers are finally melting off! Last year an eight-nation report estimated an area of Arctic icepack the size of Texas and Kansas is gone. For those who are geographically impaired, that is an area bigger than a breadbox.
At first, news of devastating global climate change might seem a bit of a bummer. Then I read an LA Times article and had a change of heart. The article began with the usual gloom. Greenland’s ice cap is melting. Our coasts will flood from rising seawater. Inuit hunters are falling through thinning ice. Melting glaciers change ocean temperature and salinity contorting the jet stream, which results in altered weather patterns worldwide. Multitudes of species are dying off . . . It was disheartening.
Then I got to the article’s final paragraph. Bam! My faith was restored. Here the Times pointed out the perks of global warming. Seriously, the article actually ended saying: “The report is not all gloomy. A warmer Arctic could increase the number of some species, such as Arctic char, a fish. It could extend the growing season for wheat in Canada and open up now-treacherous sea routes, such as the Northwest Passage and the Northern Sea Route, which parallels Russia, for shipping and resource exploration.”
Three cheers for the LA Times! It’s true! All is not gloomy. With that glorious bit of sunshine pumped straight up my ski bibs, I was able to see things in a whole new light. I started thinking of other advantages to global warming. Soon you will agree that people from all walks of life will benefit.
For starters, Inuit Hunters will benefit! Once Inuit have nothing left to hunt there will be no need for them to risk falling through thin ice. Plus, by needing food they will be ripe for a floating (pontoons, not ice) Arctic Super Wal-Mart. “Go get ‘em, Sam.”
Boat owners will benefit! Not only will there be smooth sailing through the formerly bothersome ice of the Northwest Passage, but each summer, cruise ships will be able to run tourists straight up Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Scuba Divers will benefit! There will be no more burning coral cuts. In fact there will be no more coral. Once all the reefs are gone, divers can pack away first aid kits and dive straight in. A little silt never cut anyone.
Canadian Wheat Farmers will benefit! You see, there is a 10% decrease in yield of corn from Midwest crops for every degree of global warming. No worries though, now wheat can take the place of corn. Think about all those scrumptious Wheat Dogs at the ball game. How about popped wheat with butter at the movies or steaming wheat on the cob? All scream ‘yummy’ to me.
While it is a bit ironic that ethanol is made from the corn crops global warming devastates, I am sure some aspiring chemist will rise to the challenge of developing ‘Wheatanol.’ Imagine Canuck Wheat Farmers having more influence than the Saudi Royal Family.
Dune-Buggy enthusiasts will benefit! The Dakotas will soon reopen for your 4-wheelin’ pleasure. Join the Mount Rushmore Nose Climb on July 4th! It will be a bugger of a challenge!
Eco-Tourism Operators will benefit! Companies could offer new “Emaciation Tour Packages.” Tourists get closer photos of polar bears and whales when they are too lethargic from starvation to meander away. In addition, long treks to Inuit villages can be avoided once they are forced to beg on the streets of Nome (or cashiering at Wal-Mart).
Finally, the next generation of Bush family politicians will benefit! Once again they can avoid addressing campaign issues, this time by distracting dehydrated voters with witty campaign phrases like; “No Kyoto Pact-No Ice Pack,” or “Dead Seals Never Flip-Flop,” even promising “No Char Left Behind.” Not to mention offering new, SPF 80 tax credits.
Well, by golly, I do feel better! Shall we spin the Rolette wheel some more?
Top 40 'Things Said On Christmas Day' - EVERY Year!
Top 40 'Things Said On Christmas Day' - EVERY Year!
by: Martyn Brown
Top 20 Statements, Comments & Questions At Christmas time
1 This single cream seems to be thicker than the double cream
2 Who's gonna pull this cracker with me?
3 Put your Christmas party hat on, you miserable git.
4 Where did you buy your crackers?, they're really good.
5 Do you want stuffing, Grandma?
6 Calm down you kids, you're all over excited!
7 That was you, you filthy pig!
8 What's your joke, Brian, what did you get in your cracker?
9 It's a shame to throw the paper away, isn't it?
10 The Queen's on in a minute, Mum!
11 I would give it a few minutes before you go in there - phew!
12 You won't eat all that, put a small amount on…you can always come back for more.
13 Chocolate anyone?
14 Does your mum still take sugar?
15 The turkey's lovely, isn't it?
16 Can someone pass the sprouts?
17 Don't you like Christmas pudding? - how strange.
18 You don't like mince pies? - how strange.
19 Who's gonna eat the sixpence from the Christmas pud? - ha ha ha
20 Where did we go last year, love?.
20 Comments, Statements & Questions At Christmas time -
From Children
1 Daddy, can you build this for me.
2 Mummy, can YOU build this for me.
3 Daddy, have you got a screwdriver
4 Daddy, have you got any of this size battery
5 Mummy, Jenny's just done a poo and she didn't wash her hands.
6 Mummy, I want some more
7 Daddy, Jenny's just hit me
8 I DID hit her back, look, she's on the floor.
9 This is the best Christmas I've ever had
10 Can I open another present?
11 What time is Aunty Wilma coming up?
12 Have I got any more presents to open?
13 I didn't WANT clothes
14 Mummy, I've just kicked your drink over - again.
15 I spy with my little eye - um - I don't want to play anymore.
16 Can I have another drink?
17 Mummy, Jenny's just tipped a bowl of custard over the cat.
18 Mummy, Daddy's just swear'd.
19 Daddy, this just broke off
20 Mummy - I feel sick!
by: Martyn Brown
Top 20 Statements, Comments & Questions At Christmas time
1 This single cream seems to be thicker than the double cream
2 Who's gonna pull this cracker with me?
3 Put your Christmas party hat on, you miserable git.
4 Where did you buy your crackers?, they're really good.
5 Do you want stuffing, Grandma?
6 Calm down you kids, you're all over excited!
7 That was you, you filthy pig!
8 What's your joke, Brian, what did you get in your cracker?
9 It's a shame to throw the paper away, isn't it?
10 The Queen's on in a minute, Mum!
11 I would give it a few minutes before you go in there - phew!
12 You won't eat all that, put a small amount on…you can always come back for more.
13 Chocolate anyone?
14 Does your mum still take sugar?
15 The turkey's lovely, isn't it?
16 Can someone pass the sprouts?
17 Don't you like Christmas pudding? - how strange.
18 You don't like mince pies? - how strange.
19 Who's gonna eat the sixpence from the Christmas pud? - ha ha ha
20 Where did we go last year, love?.
20 Comments, Statements & Questions At Christmas time -
From Children
1 Daddy, can you build this for me.
2 Mummy, can YOU build this for me.
3 Daddy, have you got a screwdriver
4 Daddy, have you got any of this size battery
5 Mummy, Jenny's just done a poo and she didn't wash her hands.
6 Mummy, I want some more
7 Daddy, Jenny's just hit me
8 I DID hit her back, look, she's on the floor.
9 This is the best Christmas I've ever had
10 Can I open another present?
11 What time is Aunty Wilma coming up?
12 Have I got any more presents to open?
13 I didn't WANT clothes
14 Mummy, I've just kicked your drink over - again.
15 I spy with my little eye - um - I don't want to play anymore.
16 Can I have another drink?
17 Mummy, Jenny's just tipped a bowl of custard over the cat.
18 Mummy, Daddy's just swear'd.
19 Daddy, this just broke off
20 Mummy - I feel sick!
A Young American Abroad
A Young American Abroad
by: Michael P. Gerace
Somewhere on the Edge of Lake Trasimeno, Summer 2002
Elliot ran along the muddy shoreline with his lanky body bouncing up and down as he pulled his feet from the mud. It was his first time in Italy and his excitement had gotten the best of him. The suction on his feet slowed him down, but he could still outrun Pam, who held his clothes up as she chased after him. He ran along the thin mud flat bordering a sparse grove of weeds that shot ten feet up from the water’s edge. The stink of nitrogen seeped from the mud and hung in the air. This was no place to sunbathe.
“Elliot, please stop,” Pam yelled. “Put your clothes on.”
Exasperation gripped her face as her chest heaved. She could only take two or three steps before stopping to catch her breath. Her round figure sank too deeply into the mud to get anywhere near him.
Elliot ignored her. His bony arms flailed about like a toddler’s as he ran.
Thirty college students stood back and watched their colleague run naked through the mud while his teacher plodded after him. They were supposed to get a little history of the largest lake in Umbria, but this was the highlight of their field trip.
Pam’s frustration grew worse because Ivy, the other professor there, had abandoned the group with another student just minutes before. She was as flighty in temperament as some of her dance students. They went up toward the road and crossed out of sight. A few students giggled about it because a rumor had spread that they went to smoke pot.
I watched from the far corner of the beach. An old woman who lived in one of the houses on the street walked down the dirt path behind me.
“Why is he nude?” she asked in Italian.
I laughed. She was near seventy and thin, but she looked like a weathered peasant who had spent a life working in the fields.
“He’s crazy.”
“Where is he from?”
“The United States,” I said.
“Hmm,” she said, staring at the naked man frolicking in the mud. “Maybe he should be brought to a hospital.”
I laughed again.
Elliot then turned around and started running toward Pam. He had moved onto firmer ground so he picked up speed. His parts flapped about like a rag in the wind as he barreled toward her. A collective oooh came from the students. Pam scrambled out of the way and let him pass without a challenge, leaving his clothes behind. She didn’t get hazard pay.
Elliot whizzed passed her and came toward me and the old woman, his face beaming with delight. He skidded to a stop within 10 feet of us and turned back toward his colleagues with his arms raised victoriously above his head. “Yeah!” he screamed. He took in a few deep breaths and then ran back toward Pam, this time veering back into the mud.
After 4 or 5 steps, Elliot’s right foot scraped the thick muck and he fell face forward, slapping the wet surface with full-body contact. Another oooh came from the crowd, this one deeper in tone. He lay outstretched and motionless for a few seconds, as if expecting to sink. When he tried to get up, his arms sunk to his elbows and his knees submerged. He looked like a trapped animal. He dug his feet in to gain his balance and pushed his rear-end up first. He was bent so far over that his hair lay in the mud and his hind quarters and all of its component parts were in full view for me and the old woman to see.
“Oh Dio!” she said and covered her mouth.
It was a snapshot in horror. The old woman might have seen American tourism written all over that image. I laughed like hell.
Elliot then pulled his arms out of the mud and inched his way back to firmer ground where he moped back toward Pam and his stunned classmates, his limbs coated in black tar, gray water streaming down his back from his stringy hair and everyone wondering what had possessed him to take off his clothes and make a total mess of himself in front of a group of people.
by: Michael P. Gerace
Somewhere on the Edge of Lake Trasimeno, Summer 2002
Elliot ran along the muddy shoreline with his lanky body bouncing up and down as he pulled his feet from the mud. It was his first time in Italy and his excitement had gotten the best of him. The suction on his feet slowed him down, but he could still outrun Pam, who held his clothes up as she chased after him. He ran along the thin mud flat bordering a sparse grove of weeds that shot ten feet up from the water’s edge. The stink of nitrogen seeped from the mud and hung in the air. This was no place to sunbathe.
“Elliot, please stop,” Pam yelled. “Put your clothes on.”
Exasperation gripped her face as her chest heaved. She could only take two or three steps before stopping to catch her breath. Her round figure sank too deeply into the mud to get anywhere near him.
Elliot ignored her. His bony arms flailed about like a toddler’s as he ran.
Thirty college students stood back and watched their colleague run naked through the mud while his teacher plodded after him. They were supposed to get a little history of the largest lake in Umbria, but this was the highlight of their field trip.
Pam’s frustration grew worse because Ivy, the other professor there, had abandoned the group with another student just minutes before. She was as flighty in temperament as some of her dance students. They went up toward the road and crossed out of sight. A few students giggled about it because a rumor had spread that they went to smoke pot.
I watched from the far corner of the beach. An old woman who lived in one of the houses on the street walked down the dirt path behind me.
“Why is he nude?” she asked in Italian.
I laughed. She was near seventy and thin, but she looked like a weathered peasant who had spent a life working in the fields.
“He’s crazy.”
“Where is he from?”
“The United States,” I said.
“Hmm,” she said, staring at the naked man frolicking in the mud. “Maybe he should be brought to a hospital.”
I laughed again.
Elliot then turned around and started running toward Pam. He had moved onto firmer ground so he picked up speed. His parts flapped about like a rag in the wind as he barreled toward her. A collective oooh came from the students. Pam scrambled out of the way and let him pass without a challenge, leaving his clothes behind. She didn’t get hazard pay.
Elliot whizzed passed her and came toward me and the old woman, his face beaming with delight. He skidded to a stop within 10 feet of us and turned back toward his colleagues with his arms raised victoriously above his head. “Yeah!” he screamed. He took in a few deep breaths and then ran back toward Pam, this time veering back into the mud.
After 4 or 5 steps, Elliot’s right foot scraped the thick muck and he fell face forward, slapping the wet surface with full-body contact. Another oooh came from the crowd, this one deeper in tone. He lay outstretched and motionless for a few seconds, as if expecting to sink. When he tried to get up, his arms sunk to his elbows and his knees submerged. He looked like a trapped animal. He dug his feet in to gain his balance and pushed his rear-end up first. He was bent so far over that his hair lay in the mud and his hind quarters and all of its component parts were in full view for me and the old woman to see.
“Oh Dio!” she said and covered her mouth.
It was a snapshot in horror. The old woman might have seen American tourism written all over that image. I laughed like hell.
Elliot then pulled his arms out of the mud and inched his way back to firmer ground where he moped back toward Pam and his stunned classmates, his limbs coated in black tar, gray water streaming down his back from his stringy hair and everyone wondering what had possessed him to take off his clothes and make a total mess of himself in front of a group of people.
You're Not On Mute, You Know
You're Not On Mute, You Know
by: Constance Weygandt
I am a multitasker. That is why I love the mute button when on a conference call in my home. It allows me to get a few small tasks done, let my dog in and out of the house and keep a running commentary going with the host, with no one the wiser.
I say things like;
“I agree.”
“I’m with you.”
“You’re right.”
Sometimes I say things like:
“That can’t be right.”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“I don’t agree with you.”
Such was the case the other night, while on a conference call. However, I started to notice something different about this call. As always, I said a few words when I got on and immediately put myself on mute. Then it seemed as if there were technical difficulties. The host sounded as if he was speaking in a tunnel. I thought that strange but things happen. The call became stranger. In my running commentary, to myself, I would ask questions that it seemed the host anticipated. I thought, “ Wow. This guy is really great. He anticipates any question someone could ask.”
Finally, in trying to drive home his point, he made an analogy involving a first car. He said, “Imagine your first car. It’s a stick shift with a clutch and you drive it to the top of a hill and then what happens?”
I answered, on mute, “Well, obviously, you start to slide back down the hill.”
The host laughed,“ You could do that but no, you would floor the gas.”
Then I knew. The most horrible sensation washed over me.
“I am not on mute, am I?”
“No, you are not on mute.”
This whole time, on the conference call, as my unfiltered thoughts are spouting out of my mouth, people from all across the nation are listening to me. Mute had betrayed me. What was once my conference call ally was now just a nightmare. I instinctively disconnected the call.
What I found to be very, very odd was that not one person mentioned that they could hear me. It would have been nice of someone had said, “ You’re not on mute, you know.” Or “ I can hear you.” So, I wondered, even if I am in the privacy of my home and on mute where no one can hear me, is it ever a good idea to let thoughts flow out of your mind unfiltered and say them aloud?
I have learned my lesson. From now on, I will mute both the phone and myself when on a conference call. And, in the future, do me a favor? If you come across someone who appears to be chattering for no apparent reason other than to hear themselves talk, will you gently remind them, “ You’re not on mute, you know.” I know I will.
by: Constance Weygandt
I am a multitasker. That is why I love the mute button when on a conference call in my home. It allows me to get a few small tasks done, let my dog in and out of the house and keep a running commentary going with the host, with no one the wiser.
I say things like;
“I agree.”
“I’m with you.”
“You’re right.”
Sometimes I say things like:
“That can’t be right.”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“I don’t agree with you.”
Such was the case the other night, while on a conference call. However, I started to notice something different about this call. As always, I said a few words when I got on and immediately put myself on mute. Then it seemed as if there were technical difficulties. The host sounded as if he was speaking in a tunnel. I thought that strange but things happen. The call became stranger. In my running commentary, to myself, I would ask questions that it seemed the host anticipated. I thought, “ Wow. This guy is really great. He anticipates any question someone could ask.”
Finally, in trying to drive home his point, he made an analogy involving a first car. He said, “Imagine your first car. It’s a stick shift with a clutch and you drive it to the top of a hill and then what happens?”
I answered, on mute, “Well, obviously, you start to slide back down the hill.”
The host laughed,“ You could do that but no, you would floor the gas.”
Then I knew. The most horrible sensation washed over me.
“I am not on mute, am I?”
“No, you are not on mute.”
This whole time, on the conference call, as my unfiltered thoughts are spouting out of my mouth, people from all across the nation are listening to me. Mute had betrayed me. What was once my conference call ally was now just a nightmare. I instinctively disconnected the call.
What I found to be very, very odd was that not one person mentioned that they could hear me. It would have been nice of someone had said, “ You’re not on mute, you know.” Or “ I can hear you.” So, I wondered, even if I am in the privacy of my home and on mute where no one can hear me, is it ever a good idea to let thoughts flow out of your mind unfiltered and say them aloud?
I have learned my lesson. From now on, I will mute both the phone and myself when on a conference call. And, in the future, do me a favor? If you come across someone who appears to be chattering for no apparent reason other than to hear themselves talk, will you gently remind them, “ You’re not on mute, you know.” I know I will.
How To Name Your New Baby
How To Name Your New Baby
by: Tom Coffee
One of the hundred million things new parents have to do is pick out a name for the baby, preferably before the child reaches his or her 18th birthday, if for no other reason than it is very difficult to register to vote when you are only known as “Baby Smith”.
Picking a name is a little trickier and more important than you first think. You want your child to be successful and confident in the world. You want your child to take charge of life and be able to face others and make good first impressions. It is for this reason that very few children are named “Roscoe” anymore.
Now, before I start getting email and nasty comments from hundreds of people named Roscoe (as if someone named Roscoe could use a computer!) I want to assure you that I think there is absolutely nothing wrong with the name Roscoe if you never want your child to be anymore than a truck mechanic or run a roadside barbecue pit in Kentucky. And with a name like that you can easily save money on clothing because you know there are plenty of bowling shirts and overalls at your local Goodwill that already have the name “Roscoe” stitched right on them. I mean, are there any astronauts named Roscoe? How many nobel prize winners have been named Roscoe? I’m too lazy to actually check this, but I’m pretty sure the number is right around zero, give or take a few.
So how do you go about picking a baby name?
The big trend in naming babies these days is picking a common name and then giving it some sort of “alternative” spelling which breaks most of the common sense rules of the English language. For example, one of the trendiest new boys name is “Dylan” but that’s a very traditional spelling. Modern parents would likely use one of these alternatives:
* Dillon
* Dillan
* Dylin
* Dillllllen
* Dil8an (the 8 is silent)
* Roscoe
If you really want to be on the cutting edge of baby-naming (and, really, who doesn’t?) then you’ll make up some sort of name using the parts of various other popular names. For example, the top ten very popular girl names right now are: Emily, Emma, Hannah, Madison, Olivia, Grace, Elizabeth, Abigail, Samantha and Alexis. A truly progressive parent would come up with one of these variations:
* Emmadison
* Grolivia
* Abixis
* Elizabigailexisamanthannah
* Samadison
* Roscoe
If you’re still having a hard time picking out your baby’s name, you’re not alone. There are, however, a lot of different ways to go about it.
Lots of people turn to books to suggest names for their babies and it’s pretty evident who these parents are when we have little Zeus and Jeronin digging with shovels in the sandbox while Lucritia and Saranese are playing jacks on the sidewalk.
If books aren’t your thing then maybe you should turn on the television for a few hours and simply write down every name you hear and think if any of those sound good to you or not. Being selective is the key here. No matter how pretty your daughter is she probably won’t be named prom queen if she’s named “Larry King” or “Spongebob”.
Lastly, you could always look back into your own family history and name your baby after a particularly important relative. If you don’t have any particularly important relatives, then aim to name your child after a particularly old and rich relative. Hey, it never hurts.
Now that you’ve finally picked out a baby name you can relax, right? Wrong! Far from it!
This is your first chance of many to screw with people’s minds. You’re going to be a parent soon and your mind-screwing ability is going to have to be pretty top-notch. Do you think it’s going to be easy to get a three-year old to go to bed on time every night? Heck, no! You’re going to have to tell all sorts of fantastic stories about monsters coming to get him or killer robots enslaving the world if he doesn’t get to bed at a decent hour.
Really, one can argue that most of child-raising is based on the idea of tricking the little buggers into doing what you want them to do. So get used to pulling this sort of stunt. You’re going to be a parent. It’s your duty now.
You see, the last thing you want to do is pick out these great baby names and then tell you friends and family because they’ll immediately make comments like “Oh, are you sure about that?” and “Oh… that’s…. interesting…” and “Oh, dear God!!” And then you’ll be forced to listen to hours and hours of stories about why the name you like for your baby is all wrong and why you should really name the baby “Dillynn”.
No, what you need to do is now spend some time picking out the worse possible names you can possible think of and beginning telling people that those names are what you’re going to give your child. For example, let’s say you found the perfect baby name. You should keep the name to yourself and tell everyone you know that you’re going to name him “Englebert Horatio” with a straight face. You’ll earn extra credibility if you buy a few bibs with “Englebert” stitched on them. Tell your parents how you’re planning on calling him “Eggy” when he’s young.
This way when your baby is born you can surprise your friends and relatives with a the real name and make them all sigh a huge, collective sigh of relief (except for aunt Jane who alread purchased a silver baby rattle with the initials “EH” engraved on it).
This will especially please the person you named your new baby after - your old rich uncle Roscoe.
by: Tom Coffee
One of the hundred million things new parents have to do is pick out a name for the baby, preferably before the child reaches his or her 18th birthday, if for no other reason than it is very difficult to register to vote when you are only known as “Baby Smith”.
Picking a name is a little trickier and more important than you first think. You want your child to be successful and confident in the world. You want your child to take charge of life and be able to face others and make good first impressions. It is for this reason that very few children are named “Roscoe” anymore.
Now, before I start getting email and nasty comments from hundreds of people named Roscoe (as if someone named Roscoe could use a computer!) I want to assure you that I think there is absolutely nothing wrong with the name Roscoe if you never want your child to be anymore than a truck mechanic or run a roadside barbecue pit in Kentucky. And with a name like that you can easily save money on clothing because you know there are plenty of bowling shirts and overalls at your local Goodwill that already have the name “Roscoe” stitched right on them. I mean, are there any astronauts named Roscoe? How many nobel prize winners have been named Roscoe? I’m too lazy to actually check this, but I’m pretty sure the number is right around zero, give or take a few.
So how do you go about picking a baby name?
The big trend in naming babies these days is picking a common name and then giving it some sort of “alternative” spelling which breaks most of the common sense rules of the English language. For example, one of the trendiest new boys name is “Dylan” but that’s a very traditional spelling. Modern parents would likely use one of these alternatives:
* Dillon
* Dillan
* Dylin
* Dillllllen
* Dil8an (the 8 is silent)
* Roscoe
If you really want to be on the cutting edge of baby-naming (and, really, who doesn’t?) then you’ll make up some sort of name using the parts of various other popular names. For example, the top ten very popular girl names right now are: Emily, Emma, Hannah, Madison, Olivia, Grace, Elizabeth, Abigail, Samantha and Alexis. A truly progressive parent would come up with one of these variations:
* Emmadison
* Grolivia
* Abixis
* Elizabigailexisamanthannah
* Samadison
* Roscoe
If you’re still having a hard time picking out your baby’s name, you’re not alone. There are, however, a lot of different ways to go about it.
Lots of people turn to books to suggest names for their babies and it’s pretty evident who these parents are when we have little Zeus and Jeronin digging with shovels in the sandbox while Lucritia and Saranese are playing jacks on the sidewalk.
If books aren’t your thing then maybe you should turn on the television for a few hours and simply write down every name you hear and think if any of those sound good to you or not. Being selective is the key here. No matter how pretty your daughter is she probably won’t be named prom queen if she’s named “Larry King” or “Spongebob”.
Lastly, you could always look back into your own family history and name your baby after a particularly important relative. If you don’t have any particularly important relatives, then aim to name your child after a particularly old and rich relative. Hey, it never hurts.
Now that you’ve finally picked out a baby name you can relax, right? Wrong! Far from it!
This is your first chance of many to screw with people’s minds. You’re going to be a parent soon and your mind-screwing ability is going to have to be pretty top-notch. Do you think it’s going to be easy to get a three-year old to go to bed on time every night? Heck, no! You’re going to have to tell all sorts of fantastic stories about monsters coming to get him or killer robots enslaving the world if he doesn’t get to bed at a decent hour.
Really, one can argue that most of child-raising is based on the idea of tricking the little buggers into doing what you want them to do. So get used to pulling this sort of stunt. You’re going to be a parent. It’s your duty now.
You see, the last thing you want to do is pick out these great baby names and then tell you friends and family because they’ll immediately make comments like “Oh, are you sure about that?” and “Oh… that’s…. interesting…” and “Oh, dear God!!” And then you’ll be forced to listen to hours and hours of stories about why the name you like for your baby is all wrong and why you should really name the baby “Dillynn”.
No, what you need to do is now spend some time picking out the worse possible names you can possible think of and beginning telling people that those names are what you’re going to give your child. For example, let’s say you found the perfect baby name. You should keep the name to yourself and tell everyone you know that you’re going to name him “Englebert Horatio” with a straight face. You’ll earn extra credibility if you buy a few bibs with “Englebert” stitched on them. Tell your parents how you’re planning on calling him “Eggy” when he’s young.
This way when your baby is born you can surprise your friends and relatives with a the real name and make them all sigh a huge, collective sigh of relief (except for aunt Jane who alread purchased a silver baby rattle with the initials “EH” engraved on it).
This will especially please the person you named your new baby after - your old rich uncle Roscoe.
I Live in a Hundred Years Old House!
I Live in a Hundred Years Old House!
by: Sayan Chaliha
“It’s been over a century now since the time the construction of this house was begun. There were so many people who lived here, many of them died here…. The walls of this house have seen so many things, and recorded them in a form you and I may never know. But record them, it has. And in some strange and inexplicable moments does this house convey fragments of the past to the inhabitants, in what eventually turns out to be something bizarre…
“Grandpa, there is no way you can get me to sleep with another of your ghost stories… I am not really scared of them anymore. And it’s not like you could scare anyone to sleep anyway.”
“O, okay! Just go to bed before your mom and dad are back. And, by the way, these stories are not made up, you know. Did I tell you that your great grandmother walked out of this very bedroom for an evening walk, and she never returned? They never found her again. Yet sometimes, when the moon is a sickle and the curtains billow in the cool breeze of the night, they say you can hear a soft, gentle voice, humming her favourite song.”
“Goodnight, grandpa.”
The night was cold and dark. And outside the little window, the boy could hardly see the flicker of light from a distant lamp. Electricity was a scarcity in these areas – there had been no electricity in the grand, old house for an hour. The burning taper rose and fell in the socket. The boy’s room was engulfed in darkness, and the howling wind sent a shiver down his spine. He got up to close the window, and then jumped right back into bed. He slept, and he dreamt horrible dreams. It was only a matter of hours before the sun reached for the sky, whispering into everybody’s ears, “You can wake up now. It was only a dream.”
Sitting up on his ancient bed, the boy wondered what his dream was all about. “Was it because grandpa told me those things last night?” Whatever it was, the boy decided that he was fed up of those stupid old stories. There were no such things as ghosts anyway!
It was evening by the time he got back from the play field. He took the stairs, and as he walked in through the door of his room, he felt something crawling up his back. “Probably an insect,” he said to himself, and grabbed it. He let out a blood curdling scream when he realised that it was a large bat in his hand. He let go, lost his balance and banged into his study table. His mother came running in.
“What happened… are you alright?!”
“Nothing… nothing, mom. It was just a bat.”
“Well, you ought to be more careful. You know there are bats and owls flying all over the place at night.”
“I know I know, mom.”
His mother got busy with her work. He pulled his study table back to its original place. It was then that he noticed something strange. The walls of the house were not made of brick. They were made of something else, and had several layers of plaster over them. The table had created a small crack on the wall, revealing tiny shreds of dark blue plaster. He cleaned up and put his table in front of the crack so no one would notice it.
“So you little devil, did you have a nightmare last night,” asked his grandfather to the little boy as he walked into the dining room for tea.
“Will it pleasure you if I said I did, grandpa?”
“He, he… so you are afraid of my stories aren’t you?”
At that very moment, a brilliant idea struck the little boy. He looked at his grandfather with a solemn expression on his face and said, “Say grandpa, have you ever been to a place for the first time and felt like you’ve been there before?”
“What are you talking about my boy?”
“It’s the strangest feeling that I’ve had. It’s like I have faint recollections of seeing this house the way it was before I was born.”
“That nightmare really had you bad, didn’t it?”
“No grandpa. Tell me, weren’t the walls a dark blue before?”
“They were! My god, they were!! However did you know?”
“I told you grandpa, it’s like I’ve been here before I was born.”
“It was a long time ago… my grandfather had the walls painted dark blue. We didn’t even have cameras then: you couldn’t have seen it on a photograph.”
“Duh, if you did have cameras, they would’ve been black and white.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Uh… uh, there was pond right… right next to the gate?”
“Amazing! This is truly amazing!”
(“Phew! That was a close one!!”)
“What else? What else?!”
“Grandpa, did I mention I had faint recollections? It was more like a dream. Here comes mom now with the pancakes.”
The old man stared at the boy in bewilderment for quite some time. He concluded that he was a reincarnation of someone who had lived in this house before.
“Dad, what’s on your mind?”
“It’s the most amazing thing! Your son, here, is actually a reincarnation of someone who had lived here before.”
“What?! Are you feeling alright, dad?”
“Ask him… tell her grandson.”
The boy was in a fix. He knew it. He pulled on a confused look and said, “Uh… mom, it’s nothing… uh… I think grandpa isn’t feeling very well.”
“Oh, I am feeling fine. The boy needs help, I tell you. There is a fakir in town for a day or two. Tell him to come and see us… your little son is possessed I am afraid. He’s been saying weird things… as if he knew this place before he was born. And now he looks so confused, like he didn’t know what he was saying.”
After the much deliberation and hours of discussion, and taking into consideration that the boy kept saying his grandfather was in over his head, it was decided that the fakir be called to the house. The lady of the house was away visiting her parents the night the fakir was to show up. The old man was asleep, and the boy was at the gate patiently waiting for him. When he did show up, he politely introduced himself, and told him that his mother would be with him shortly.
“It’s my grandfather, sir. My father used to come back from work late in the evening. A few years ago his car met with an accident… and he never returned. I still remember the way he used to hum ‘Raindrops keep falling on my head’ when he walked in through that door… always a spring in his step.” A tear ran down the boy’s cheek as he continued with his story. “My grandfather always waits for him to come back… hoping that he would rise from the dead one day and come to see his father.”
Just then, the old man, awoken by the sound of voices, remembered that he was to expect the fakir. He washed up and came downstairs to find his grandson and the fakir in the sitting room.
“Ah, we’ve been expecting you. I see you’ve already met my grandson. His father should be here any moment now. We will talk then. In the meantime, let me fix you a cup of tea.”
The fakir looked at the boy. “I see what you mean little boy. Perhaps you could give me and your grandfather a moment.”
“Sure. I’ll just go to my room.”
The old man came in with a tray. “My son should be here just about now,” he said to the fakir. Just then, the back door clicked, and a man walked in humming ‘Raindrops keep falling on my head.’ He was cheerful, and his clothes were dirty from a hard day’s labour. The fakir jumped up in his place and looked at him in horror, and in a split moment he was out the front door, running like the wind.
“And what’s wrong with him, dad? He looked like he’d seen a ghost. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to call that fakir here. There’s nothing wrong with a little boy’s imagination running wild anyway, is there?”
“I believe you’re right. I did overreact a little.”
by: Sayan Chaliha
“It’s been over a century now since the time the construction of this house was begun. There were so many people who lived here, many of them died here…. The walls of this house have seen so many things, and recorded them in a form you and I may never know. But record them, it has. And in some strange and inexplicable moments does this house convey fragments of the past to the inhabitants, in what eventually turns out to be something bizarre…
“Grandpa, there is no way you can get me to sleep with another of your ghost stories… I am not really scared of them anymore. And it’s not like you could scare anyone to sleep anyway.”
“O, okay! Just go to bed before your mom and dad are back. And, by the way, these stories are not made up, you know. Did I tell you that your great grandmother walked out of this very bedroom for an evening walk, and she never returned? They never found her again. Yet sometimes, when the moon is a sickle and the curtains billow in the cool breeze of the night, they say you can hear a soft, gentle voice, humming her favourite song.”
“Goodnight, grandpa.”
The night was cold and dark. And outside the little window, the boy could hardly see the flicker of light from a distant lamp. Electricity was a scarcity in these areas – there had been no electricity in the grand, old house for an hour. The burning taper rose and fell in the socket. The boy’s room was engulfed in darkness, and the howling wind sent a shiver down his spine. He got up to close the window, and then jumped right back into bed. He slept, and he dreamt horrible dreams. It was only a matter of hours before the sun reached for the sky, whispering into everybody’s ears, “You can wake up now. It was only a dream.”
Sitting up on his ancient bed, the boy wondered what his dream was all about. “Was it because grandpa told me those things last night?” Whatever it was, the boy decided that he was fed up of those stupid old stories. There were no such things as ghosts anyway!
It was evening by the time he got back from the play field. He took the stairs, and as he walked in through the door of his room, he felt something crawling up his back. “Probably an insect,” he said to himself, and grabbed it. He let out a blood curdling scream when he realised that it was a large bat in his hand. He let go, lost his balance and banged into his study table. His mother came running in.
“What happened… are you alright?!”
“Nothing… nothing, mom. It was just a bat.”
“Well, you ought to be more careful. You know there are bats and owls flying all over the place at night.”
“I know I know, mom.”
His mother got busy with her work. He pulled his study table back to its original place. It was then that he noticed something strange. The walls of the house were not made of brick. They were made of something else, and had several layers of plaster over them. The table had created a small crack on the wall, revealing tiny shreds of dark blue plaster. He cleaned up and put his table in front of the crack so no one would notice it.
“So you little devil, did you have a nightmare last night,” asked his grandfather to the little boy as he walked into the dining room for tea.
“Will it pleasure you if I said I did, grandpa?”
“He, he… so you are afraid of my stories aren’t you?”
At that very moment, a brilliant idea struck the little boy. He looked at his grandfather with a solemn expression on his face and said, “Say grandpa, have you ever been to a place for the first time and felt like you’ve been there before?”
“What are you talking about my boy?”
“It’s the strangest feeling that I’ve had. It’s like I have faint recollections of seeing this house the way it was before I was born.”
“That nightmare really had you bad, didn’t it?”
“No grandpa. Tell me, weren’t the walls a dark blue before?”
“They were! My god, they were!! However did you know?”
“I told you grandpa, it’s like I’ve been here before I was born.”
“It was a long time ago… my grandfather had the walls painted dark blue. We didn’t even have cameras then: you couldn’t have seen it on a photograph.”
“Duh, if you did have cameras, they would’ve been black and white.”
“What else do you remember?”
“Uh… uh, there was pond right… right next to the gate?”
“Amazing! This is truly amazing!”
(“Phew! That was a close one!!”)
“What else? What else?!”
“Grandpa, did I mention I had faint recollections? It was more like a dream. Here comes mom now with the pancakes.”
The old man stared at the boy in bewilderment for quite some time. He concluded that he was a reincarnation of someone who had lived in this house before.
“Dad, what’s on your mind?”
“It’s the most amazing thing! Your son, here, is actually a reincarnation of someone who had lived here before.”
“What?! Are you feeling alright, dad?”
“Ask him… tell her grandson.”
The boy was in a fix. He knew it. He pulled on a confused look and said, “Uh… mom, it’s nothing… uh… I think grandpa isn’t feeling very well.”
“Oh, I am feeling fine. The boy needs help, I tell you. There is a fakir in town for a day or two. Tell him to come and see us… your little son is possessed I am afraid. He’s been saying weird things… as if he knew this place before he was born. And now he looks so confused, like he didn’t know what he was saying.”
After the much deliberation and hours of discussion, and taking into consideration that the boy kept saying his grandfather was in over his head, it was decided that the fakir be called to the house. The lady of the house was away visiting her parents the night the fakir was to show up. The old man was asleep, and the boy was at the gate patiently waiting for him. When he did show up, he politely introduced himself, and told him that his mother would be with him shortly.
“It’s my grandfather, sir. My father used to come back from work late in the evening. A few years ago his car met with an accident… and he never returned. I still remember the way he used to hum ‘Raindrops keep falling on my head’ when he walked in through that door… always a spring in his step.” A tear ran down the boy’s cheek as he continued with his story. “My grandfather always waits for him to come back… hoping that he would rise from the dead one day and come to see his father.”
Just then, the old man, awoken by the sound of voices, remembered that he was to expect the fakir. He washed up and came downstairs to find his grandson and the fakir in the sitting room.
“Ah, we’ve been expecting you. I see you’ve already met my grandson. His father should be here any moment now. We will talk then. In the meantime, let me fix you a cup of tea.”
The fakir looked at the boy. “I see what you mean little boy. Perhaps you could give me and your grandfather a moment.”
“Sure. I’ll just go to my room.”
The old man came in with a tray. “My son should be here just about now,” he said to the fakir. Just then, the back door clicked, and a man walked in humming ‘Raindrops keep falling on my head.’ He was cheerful, and his clothes were dirty from a hard day’s labour. The fakir jumped up in his place and looked at him in horror, and in a split moment he was out the front door, running like the wind.
“And what’s wrong with him, dad? He looked like he’d seen a ghost. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to call that fakir here. There’s nothing wrong with a little boy’s imagination running wild anyway, is there?”
“I believe you’re right. I did overreact a little.”
A Treasure Chest for People Who Love Funny Clothing
A Treasure Chest for People Who Love Funny Clothing
by: Michael D’Elena
I have always been a big fan of funny clothing. I am always on the look out for all types of funny clothing, especially when I am out of town. You see, funny t-shirt are the thing in our city and practically everybody has one. Well this has become a disadvantage, at least in my own point of view. I just hate bumping into someone with an exact same shirt as mine. So I like to buy my funny clothing somewhere outside the city; but only until I happened upon a wonderful website. It’s called recklessts.com. You open the page and you’re greeted with amazing funny tees. It’s practically a treasure chest for me. What is even better about the site is that you don’t only get funny tees, but you get original funny t-shirts. Now I don’t have to worry about embarrassing encounters with people wearing identical shirts.
Now let me stress this—recklessts.com offers not only unique funny tees but hilarious tees at that. By this I mean really funny shirts. Now you’ll have people laughing out loud. You can’t get any cooler than that. And because they’re unique, you are assured that you are not wearing yet another old joke. Most of their humorous T-shirts are not very wholesome. Well, this is the exact reason why I like them. Whenever my Mom gives me “her look,” I simply say,” Mom, we call that wit.”
Don’t get the wrong idea. Recklessts.com is not all about t-shirts. As a matter of fact, they now offer funny hats too. Now I can have a whole new range of collection. And did I mention that they offer custom screen printing in Tempe Arizona?
Not only does the website offer amazing products but it also provides great customer service. Ordering is pretty simple. You simply click on the product you wish to purchase (plus the size of your choice). After which you click on the button that says “ADD TO CART.” Then the site will do the rest. You will be automatically transferred to PayPal’s shopping cart where you only have to enter your shipping information and the payment method of your choice and you’re done with the transaction. If you still find this simple procedure a hassle, you hold the option of calling Recklessts.com via telephone no. (480) 678-4488.
Another wonderful thing about Recklessts.com is its Return Policy. The site guarantees refund for shirts that are returned unworn and unwashed within 30 days of purchase. This is one feature I don’t need though. I have always been satisfied by the shirts I order from the site. I find the site’s privacy policy more important. You see, I am a security buff. I worry about identity thieves who manage to steal from people’s credit card accounts. Credit card security is one area where I lose my sense of humor. It’s all business for me. It’s a good thing Recklessts.com uses PayPal, a secure network that is well worth my trust.
by: Michael D’Elena
I have always been a big fan of funny clothing. I am always on the look out for all types of funny clothing, especially when I am out of town. You see, funny t-shirt are the thing in our city and practically everybody has one. Well this has become a disadvantage, at least in my own point of view. I just hate bumping into someone with an exact same shirt as mine. So I like to buy my funny clothing somewhere outside the city; but only until I happened upon a wonderful website. It’s called recklessts.com. You open the page and you’re greeted with amazing funny tees. It’s practically a treasure chest for me. What is even better about the site is that you don’t only get funny tees, but you get original funny t-shirts. Now I don’t have to worry about embarrassing encounters with people wearing identical shirts.
Now let me stress this—recklessts.com offers not only unique funny tees but hilarious tees at that. By this I mean really funny shirts. Now you’ll have people laughing out loud. You can’t get any cooler than that. And because they’re unique, you are assured that you are not wearing yet another old joke. Most of their humorous T-shirts are not very wholesome. Well, this is the exact reason why I like them. Whenever my Mom gives me “her look,” I simply say,” Mom, we call that wit.”
Don’t get the wrong idea. Recklessts.com is not all about t-shirts. As a matter of fact, they now offer funny hats too. Now I can have a whole new range of collection. And did I mention that they offer custom screen printing in Tempe Arizona?
Not only does the website offer amazing products but it also provides great customer service. Ordering is pretty simple. You simply click on the product you wish to purchase (plus the size of your choice). After which you click on the button that says “ADD TO CART.” Then the site will do the rest. You will be automatically transferred to PayPal’s shopping cart where you only have to enter your shipping information and the payment method of your choice and you’re done with the transaction. If you still find this simple procedure a hassle, you hold the option of calling Recklessts.com via telephone no. (480) 678-4488.
Another wonderful thing about Recklessts.com is its Return Policy. The site guarantees refund for shirts that are returned unworn and unwashed within 30 days of purchase. This is one feature I don’t need though. I have always been satisfied by the shirts I order from the site. I find the site’s privacy policy more important. You see, I am a security buff. I worry about identity thieves who manage to steal from people’s credit card accounts. Credit card security is one area where I lose my sense of humor. It’s all business for me. It’s a good thing Recklessts.com uses PayPal, a secure network that is well worth my trust.
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