2. Don't worry about what people think, they don't do it very often.

3. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore than standing in a garage makes you a car.

4. Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.

5. If you must choose between two evils, pick the one you've never tried before.

6. My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.

7. Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.

8. A person, who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person. (This is very important. Pay attention! It never fails.)

9. For every action, there is an equal and opposite government program.

10. If you look like your passport picture, you probably need the trip.

11. Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of checks.

12. A conscience is what hurts when all of your other parts feel so good.

13. Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.

14. Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.

15. No man has ever been shot while doing the dishes.

16. A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.

17. Middle age is when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.

18. Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.

19. Junk is something you've kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.

20. There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.

21. Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again.

22. By the time you can make ends meet, they move the ends.

23. Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator.

24. Someone who thinks logically provides a nice contrast to the real world.

25. It ain't the jeans that make your butt look fat.

26. If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not achieved, and never will achieve, its full potential, that word would be "meetings."

27. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."

28. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.

29. You should not confuse your career with your life.

30. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.

31. Never lick a steak knife.

32. The most destructive force in the universe is gossip.

33. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight savings time.

34. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.

35. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age eleven.

36. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that, deep down inside, we ALL believe that we are above average drivers.

37. Your friends love you anyway.

38. Thought for the day: Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic.

Dear Sir/Madam/Automated telephone answering service,

Having spent the past twenty minutes waiting for someone at Bodmin police station to pick up a telephone I have decided to abandon the idea and try e-mailing you instead.

Perhaps you would be so kind as to pass this message on to your colleagues in Bodmin, by means of smoke signal, carrier pigeon or Ouija board.

As I'm writing this e-mail there are eleven failed medical experiments (I think you call them youths) in St Marys Crescent, which is just off St Mary's Road in Bodmin.

Six of them seem happy enough to play a game which involves kicking a football against an iron gate with the force of a meteorite.

This causes an earth shattering CLANG! which rings throughout the entire building.

This game is now in its third week and as I am unsure how the scoring system works, I have no idea if it will end any time soon.

The remaining five walking abortions are happily rummaging through several bags of rubbish and items of furniture that someone has so thoughtfully dumped beside the wheelie bins.

One of them has found a saw and is setting about a discarded chair like a beaver on speed.

I fear that it's only a matter of time before they turn their limited attention to the bottle of calor gas that is lying on its side between the two bins.

If they could be relied on to only blow their own arms and legs off then I would happily leave them to it. I would even go so far as to lend them the matches.

Unfortunately they are far more likely to blow up half the street with them and I've just finished decorating the kitchen.

What I suggest is this - after replying to this e-mail with worthless assurances that the matter is being looked into and will be dealt with, why not leave it until the one night of the year (probably bath night) when there are no mutants around then drive up the street in a panda car before doing a three point turn and disappearing again.

This will of course serve no other purpose than to remind us what policemen actually look like.

I trust that when I take a claw hammer to the skull of one of these throwbacks you'll do me the same courtesy of giving me a four month head start before coming to arrest me.

I remain sir, your obedient servant

xxxxx

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr xxxxx,

I have read your e-mail and understand you frustration at the problems caused by youth playing in the area and the problems you have encountered in trying to contact the police.

As the Community Beat Officer for your street I would like to extend an offer of discussing the matter fully with you.

Should you wish to discuss the matter, please provide contact details (address / telephone number) and when may be suitable.

Regards

PC yyyyy
Community Beat Officer

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear PC yyyyy

First of all I would like to thank you for the speedy response to my original e-mail.

16 hours and 38 minutes must be a personal record for Bodmin Police station, and rest assured that I will forward these details to the late Norris McWhirter for inclusion in his next book.

Secondly I was delighted to hear that our street has its own community beat officer.

May I be the first to congratulate you on your covert skills? In the five or so years I have lived in St Marys Crescent, I have never seen you.

Do you hide up a tree or have you gone deep undercover and infiltrated the gang itself?

Are you the one with the acne and the moustache on his forehead or the one with a chin like a wash hand basin?

It's surely only a matter of time before you are headhunted by MI5.

Whilst I realise that there may be far more serious crimes taking place in Bodmin, such as smoking in a public place or being Muslim without due care and attention, is it too much to ask for a policeman to explain (using words of no more than two syllables at a time) to these twats that they might want to play their strange football game elsewhere.

The pitch on Fairpark Road, or the one at Priory Park are both within spitting distance as is the bottom of the Par Dock.

Should you wish to discuss these matters further you should feel free to contact me on <DATE> If after 25 minutes I have still failed to answer, I'll buy you a large one in the Cat and Fiddle Pub.

Regards
xxxxx

P.S If you think that this is sarcasm, think yourself lucky that you don't work for the cleansing department, with whom I am also in contact!!

I tend to find myself in front of this goddamn computer for a large portion of the day. I place myself in this semi-comfortable chair, pull out the keyboard and manage to stare into this screen for hours on end. Generally the all empowering you tube is open in at least one of the myriad tabs i have open (might i add they are very helpful). And ironically, even though it's a video sharing website, I'll be using it to listen to music because I'm a.) too lazy to open up my iTunes and b.) i find my music lacking in what i want, when i want it.

When I'm in a good mood, I'll be listening to third eye blind. When I'm in a bad mood, I'll be listening to Radiohead. When I'm not in a mood I'll be listening to Modest Mouse. Personally, in my opinion, those are the three best bands out there currently. But i wont get into that. What I'm trying to say is half of the time when I'm sitting at this computer is when i think about what I'm feeling. And a lot of the time it leads to even more negativity than i had when i first sat in this very chair. I have no idea why i do this, there are so many possibilities on the computer, and i find myself doing those as my secondary task, where thinking about everything will be first.

It was just a few days ago when i was sitting in this chair that i thought of something that for some reason carried great significance to me. You see, i don't really want to get into my personal experiences, i want to explain my discoveries based on feelings that I've gained from them. Thought it may prove a difficult task, I've decided to attempt anyways.

What i realized was that no one will EVER in their entire life be perfectly content with their situation, the moment they're in, or their life in general. Never will someone feel every possible burden fall off of themselves to the point where they are completely free. People are always, constantly, striving and working for what they want. And half the time by the time they reach their goal (if they do) the already want something different. In my case, i constantly find myself wanting something terribly, and losing interest quite soon after. I never know what i want. And if i never know what i actually want, how am i supposed to ever be content with myself? Because no matter what i have, I'll find an imperfection thats going to tell me i deserve something more. It's always more more more. And I'm not speaking in specific terms, this applies to everything for me. If i don't know what i want, how am i to accomplish anything? And if i don't accomplish anything, how am i supposed to be happy?

I strongly feel like I'm not the only one that feels this. It's a source of thousands of problems in this world. People not knowing what they want. "I want to marry her, I'm sure". The divorce rate flies. "Nope, this is definitely the job that fits me perfectly". About what, 98% percent of people absolutely HATE their occupations? It just absolutely TEARS at me that in the rest of my long lifetime, it's very possible that i may NEVER be completely happy. It tears at me.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that people have to try to be happy in this world; you have to put yourself in the right mindset. And honestly, there's something wrong with that. It shouldn't be that way. I don't know if happiness will ever come to me, or if i have to run to happiness. But i know that it makes me look at things in a completely different way. It makes me look at the little things, i look at them and think of the promise of joy that they could bring to me if i tried. Maybe that's how most people make it through their lives. But i don't try. Because i still don't know what i want. And who knows if i ever will.

We knew it was going to be a special episode when McGill started with a joke about afterbirth pie.

For the first time in a very long time, the entire SYMP posse was gathered for a session at the big, brown, cluttered table. And what a session it was. Light on prep and substance, heavy on insider tidbits and Andy-shrieks.

It was like having the first staff meeting after Christmas vacation without the boss. Lots of stories, little focus, random asides, silly giggling. In other words, pretty much a typical show.

In fact, we had quite a disagreement over what the title of this post should be. Here are some of our rejected titles for this episode:

• "Simply Insider"
• "Sting Like a Caterpillar"
• "Oxygen Suck with a Saliva Chaser"
• "Who Wants to Be a Brazel-aire?"
• "It's All About Us"

We would've gone with the last title, but only if they had cut out everything but the couple of minutes in the middle where they talked about us. Of course, then they could have earned the last half banana slug in this week's show rating.

But SYMP isn't about earning anything. Apparently, working at SB isn't about earning anything either, unless you're a senior pastor or whatever it is that Fields is.

As always, we were distracted by the table items. The flash of Brazel's head at the beginning of the show was startling, but what really had us nervous were all the fluids on the table. Not only did Matt and Josh have bottles of yellow VitaWater, while Jana took care of a pink, but there was an empty pink by Griff, with the rest of the VitaWater case positioned by McGill. Add DF's soda cup, and we were really glad that Sarti's water had already broken, otherwise there could have been a VitaFlood.

Time for the stand-out quotes from this episode:

• Jana: "I'm not bitter...I am bitter."
• Doug: "...green with jealousy"; Matt: "Jealousy is chartreuse."
• Andy (in a fit of laughter): "ahh....trogolyte...ahhh"
• Andy (feeling the need to update everyone on his personal hygiene): "I'm sweating"
• Griff (asking the question everyone has wondered): "Which is more valuable - a good salary or friendship with Doug?"

Here's another disagreement we're having. Perhaps you could help us out. If the SYMP gang were superheroes, like the Fantastic Four or the Justice League, which superhero would each of them be?

Our biggest disagreement at the moment concerns Monsieur Matt. While there have been reasons given for Hellboy, Bucky, and The Sandman - to name a few - we are currently leaning towards Superman. Yes, we know, that might be overdoing it, but M&M's move in the middle of this episode, when he got serious, leaned back, and took off his glasses - well, it just made us think of Clark Kent, and how he only really gets powerful when he takes off his glasses. Granted, McGill is more "Man of Super Soft Angel Food Cake" than "Man of Steel", but that's our opinion for now.

What do you think? Is Fields the real Superman? And is Griff a superhero or sidekick? And is Brazel a superhero friend, or an outcast that is secretly planning the overthrow of the Purpose Driven Cartel?

Whew. We're sweating, too.

Then, there was something about the Mission Valley hotel in San Diego that rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was the broken phone when we first arrived. Maybe it was the lack of elbow room. But, but, but I'm betting it was the rude sign we encountered in the bathroom. I don't know why I couldn't see this as humorous. Instead of getting a chuckle out of it I felt accosted, confronted, accused of something I wouldn't even think of doing. Sarcasm was in the ink of that sign.

When we finally got to Ontario we discovered way nicer everything. Larger pool with lax hours of operations (when we asked, the desk manager said it closed "around 10pm..ish"). Free breakfast. Nice huge room with flat screen tv. Way bigger bathroom. More luxurious toiletries. Best of all. No rude signs. Nothing warning us the maids steal. Nothing asking us not to, either.

2. Teaching Maths In 1980
A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or £80. What is his profit?

3. Teaching Maths In 1990
A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100. His cost of production is £80. Did he make a profit?

4. Teaching Maths In 2000
A logger sells a truckload of timber for £100. His cost of production is £80 and his profit is £20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Maths In 2008
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of £20. What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers.)

If a sign board beside the road falls down, it surely is capable to kill a bunch of them, not including those injured, and those jaw-dropped.

And oh, among the dead ones, I saw one shorty.

Why? Cause he runs slower.

*dedicated to the guys next door.

Fíjese en el cero sin ir mas lejos. A la derecha de cualquier número, lo único que hace es crecer, llevar hacia el estrellato a cualquier cifra que tenga enfrente. "¿Vos querías fama? Esperá que llamo a mis hermanos y vas a ver" parece decirle el cero a cualquier número que se le plante delante. "Ahora valés solamente lo que vos representás. Pero esperá que yo me ponga al lado tuyo para que valgas diez veces más en un segundo".

Pero la vida del cero es injusta, dura. Una mala decisión lo deja sin el pan y sin la torta. Como la vida misma. Porque si el cero se le para a la izquierda del mismo número al que antes le prometía el paraíso, se vuelve inútil, sin valor. Es lo mismo que esté como que no. Es, trágicamente, un cero a la izquierda.

Aunque eso no es lo peor de todo. Porque de la misma forma en que en patota son casi infalibles, como cualquier superhéroe tienen un punto flojo, una kriptonita verde a flor de piel. "Ah... ¿así que todos ustedes pueden hacerme valer diez, cien, mil veces más de lo que valgo?" diría cualquier dígito "Les tengo una mala noticia: sin mí, ustedes no son nada". Y tiene razón. Si el número en cuestión se las toma, por más que esté rodeado de millones de ceros, estos no valen nada. Es lo mismo que haya uno solo o todos los ceros del universo. Su valor será, vaya paradoja, cero.

Esto me lleva a una simple conclusión, estimado lector: el trabajo en equipo es lo único que puede salvarnos. El valor individual es tan pequeño o tan grande como se quiera pero lo será diez, cien, mil, un millón de veces más importante si se unen esfuerzos y se tira para un mismo lado.

Juntos. Es la única receta.

Como diría Wasington Duvobe: "Si tienes una receta, úsala y cocina para todos. Si cocinas solamente para ti, mejor pídete empanadas por teléfono".

Un grande entre los grandes

Max
[texto bajo licencia Safe Creative / todos los derechos reservados]

Click to enlarge.

Youngstown has a new amusement ride for the commuters. Hurry though, it will only be open for 6 more months.

That's right Youngstown fans. the bridge that was to be open the first week in July is now slated to open sometime in the future. Perhaps October, or November. Let us not forget that the Market Street bridge is limited to only one lane of traffic.

Back To Postcards Edge Archives

LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

On my desk I have a work station.....

Both ll have the look of  "yeenaku nadhika theriyadhunga" n quitely let their love blossom....wow....On d first day each of them were silent and were miles apart...2nd day they danced for pakathe enna pakathe n i bet they wld have got d filmfare award for best actor and actress...(actor again in dis case). 3rd day they showed out tat cupid had struck hard on them n danced or rather "keelichified" for d song frm "TITANIC"...MY HEART WILL GO ON....think tat ship sank as it culdnt bear the depth of their love...dis time OSCAR award onl...wat a development...!!!

I thought tat their fame as d most romantic couple s revealed onl to us but their pughal reached other depts too...on culturals they cldnt control n so everyone noes abt them...chinna pulle kita kuda kyeta sollum...Sorry guys...u must have been born in Netherlands or Norway....but ya we wld have missed u both...b'coz of their chemistry,biology,physiology,history,maths or watever now B'lore n Mysore s not famous for gardens or sandalwood in our minds but them...u guys rock!!!! Though Pearl Green n Googy found their soulmates by becoming reps these two ppl found each other in iv...Mayb another iv can increase d number....hmmm...

1. It's like a drug. Once I get my hands on a new book, I need my daily (or even hourly) fix to keep going without blowing out.

2. You cry unnecessarily when somebody fictional dies.

3. It's sometimes educational. Providence forbid.

4. Depending on the book, I either feel extremely inspired to do something like start a drama school or step into the path of a bus. Or to fly. Or to migrate. Gah.

5. Also depending on the book, I sometimes feel extremely depressed, down, or hollow.

6. I start thinking like the writing style in the book. Can be rather tedious to think after a dose of Tolkien (the literary equivalent of speed).

7. There goes all hope of doing other activities with some decent concentration, more so after the effects of no.s 4 and 5.

8. There goes all hope of sleeping before midnight, especially where Jim Butcher, Terry Brooks, Jeffery Archer and Christopher Paolini are involved (I confess to having stayed up until at least 1 am on books from these pushers XD)

9. The way books suck you right into them and make you live the story when you know you should be doing something else but can't because you really need to see whether the good guys win although you know they will (or will they?).

10. Cliffhangers are just cruel.

11. You either end up feeling more at ease or more disappointed with this world than you usually are.

12. You just have to find more books from the author, creating a never-ending cycle. xP

This time, however, I intended to get myself a box of powdered milk.  It's much more economical than spending around 30 pesos everytime I felt like drinking milk.

I was prowling along the milk aisle when a white-coated lady sporting a wide smile and a plastic ID tag saw me and headed purposefully in my direction.  She immediately asked me for my age.  I immediately thought:  "Oh goodie!  I won one of those things.  A bowl perhaps?"

So I answered.  "I am, ummm, 25."  (I really had to think about it.  I always think of myself as a year older so I had to subtract one from what I thought my age was).

The lady suddenly began a long-winded spiel about how I'm already an adult (duh, like I don't know it every time I look at my face in the mirror and everytime I have to pay bills and send money home), and that I should not look for full cream milk or filled milk which are all - GASP - fattening!

I looked properly horrified, as if I had not just guzzled some Bear Brand Sterilized milk before I left home for the mall.  She went on and on about how adults should look - not for low fat milk but for NON-FAT milk.

Oooookay.  My face was becoming plastic with the effort of trying to hold on to my smile.  To cut her lecture short, I asked her which of the milk brands available she recommends.  She immediately said, "Ma'am, you should get yourself some Nesvita milk."

Figures!!! After I had taken a proper look, I saw that she's wearing a Nesvita ID tag.

I was actually intending to get this very same brand before the lady interrupted my musings so I gratefully sighed and smiled and said, "I thought so."   That was her cue to leave me alone and bug someone else.

But the lady was not finished.  She got a carton of Nesvita Milk off the shelf and said, "This is the Nesvita Proweight.  This is not only low-fat but non-fat."  She introduced each and every one of the Nesvita variants on the shelf.  She told me things about the products.  I can't be sure but it seems to me she was reciting the information found at the back of each box.

She then asked me for my body weight.  I told her.  She did not believe me, apparently, for she asked me to step on the bathroom scale she had ready.  She then asked me for my height.  I gave it to her.  She did not believe me once again and gave me her own estimate of my height.  Then she asked me for my name.  I thought, if she was not going to believe anything I say, why say any more?  So I refused to answer.  I also refused to give her my contact number and address.

Trying to gain credibility, she told me she is a nutritionist from Nesvita.  I still refused to give her more information.  Defeated, she turned to what she had so far.  A gleam suddenly lit her eyes; she seemed to anticipate what was still to come.  In a perfectly grave voice, she said:  "You really should buy Nesvita... because you are OVERWEIGHT!!!!"

I actually got the term in before she did, but it didn't seem to matter.  She then tried to smooth over her uber-taklesa comment by saying:  "It's just two kilos, anyway" then ruined it once more by saying, "but your ideal weight is 6 kilos less your current weight."

I wonder how long the lady has been working for Nesvita.  I don't think she will last very long if she is this tactless.  I didn't mind, for I have long accepted the fact that she so gleefully pointed out.  I wonder how others would react though, he he.  I'd love to be a fly on the wall when she tells a really big person "You're overweight."  he he he :lol:

And just for the record, I checked the label on the Nesvita box.  It's really not non-fat.  It still has a bit of fat content so I guess it's just - GASP - low fat!

Please make your presence felt by signing my Guestbook or leaving a comment. Thanks!

WE WON THE MARCHING!!!! WE ARE THE CHAMPION!! OH YES!!!

THANK YOU AARON!!!! WE LOVE YOU!

acetele! wasu wasu wasah! heiki heiki tong gah! eh waleh waleh waleh lowah!!!

bila rc! bila rc! bila rc masuk padang! hasrat kita mahu menang! bila rc masuk padang!

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wonder... do bees sleep? xD

And no, all guys that talk to me don't get this treatment.
Only the ones who ask me to be their live-in cum-swallower (in joking or not).

The alarm went out to all fire departments for miles around.

When the volunteer fire fighters appeared on the scene, the chemical company President rushed to the Fire Chief and said, "All our secret formulae are in the vault in the centre of the plant. They must be saved. I'll give $50,000 to the fire department that brings them out intact."

But the roaring flames held the fire-fighters off. Soon, more fire departments had to be called in as the situation became desperate.

As the firemen arrived, the President shouted out that the offer was now $100,000 to the fire department who could save the company's secret files.

From the distance, a lone siren was heard as another fire truck came into sight. It was the nearby Chasidic Jewish rural township volunteer fire company composed entirely of Jewish, ultra -orthodox men over the age of 65.

To everyone's amazement, that little broken-down fire engine roared right past all the sleek, newer engines that were parked outside the plant.

Without even slowing down, it drove straight into the middle of the inferno.

Outside, the other firemen watched as the Chasidic old timers jumped off right in the middle of the fire and fought it back on all sides.

It was a performance and effort never seen before.

Within a short time, the Chasidic old timers had extinguished the fire and saved the secret formulae.

The grateful chemical company President announced that for such a superhuman feat, he was upping the reward to $200,000, and walked over to thank each of the brave fire fighters personally.

The local TV news reporter rushed in to capture the event on film, asking their chief, "What are you going to do with all that money?"

"Vell," said Moishe Goldberg, the 70-year-old fire chief, "Da foist ting ve gonna do is fix da brakes on dat damn truck!!!!"

I ask the lady in front
What are we queuing for.
"To join another queue,"
She explains.

"How pointless," I say,
"I'm leaving." She points
To another long queue.
"Then you must get in line."

I join the queue.
We move up nicely.

"Of course I wouldn't!" replied her husband. "The season's almost over!"