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An Urgent Standby Passenger « Result #1 on Mar 13, 2009, 9:58pm »
While in Korea, Gov. Mike Smith of Utah was relaxing in the VIP lounge the Seoul airport, awaiting his flight to Japan. At the same moment , his press secretary, Jenny Varela, was being told at the ticket counter that she had no ticket.
¡¡¡¡After insisting she had to make the flight because she was with a U. S. governor, an American embassy aide intervened. Varela got a standby ticket and boarded just before take-off.
¡¡¡¡Regaining her composure, Varela went to the front of the plane to tell Smith of her adventure. He was not there. She later found out that the governor was told that he had been bumped by an urgent standby passenger.It was Varela.
Losing Virginity « Result #2 on Mar 13, 2009, 9:58pm »
Concerned about her relationship, a woman approaches her doctor and says, "Doc, I'm getting married this weekend and my fiance thinks I'm a virgin & I'm not! Is there anything you can do to help me?"
The doctor says, "Medically, no, but here's something you can try. On the wedding night, when you're getting ready for bed, take an elastic band and slide it to your upper thigh. When your husband puts it in, snap the elastic band and tell him it's your virginity snapping."
The woman loves this idea and knows her hubby will fall for this. They have a beautiful wedding and retire to the honeymoon suite. The wife gets ready for bed in the bathroom, slips the elastic band up her leg, finishes preparing and climbs into bed with her man.
Things begin to progress - her hubby "slips it in" and just then she snaps the elastic band. The hubby asks, "What the heck was that?"
The wife explains, "Oh nothing honey, that was just my virginity snapping."
The husband cries out, "Well snap it again, it's got my balls!"
How the Swan got a long neck « Result #3 on Mar 1, 2009, 10:02pm »
There was this really large pond that ducks, and swans shared. It was in the shape of a swan , so the vain swans insisted that it should be called swan lake. Many think that there isn't much difference between swans and ducks but there is. Swans at first didn't have long necks but they had beautiful feathers, slender bodies, and they didn't paddle like ducks, they gracefully swam. The ducks however at this time were ugly, and bulky and just frantically kicked their short legs to swim. The swans wouldn't let the ducks swim with them, which angered the ducks since they too lived at that pond. One day while the swans, and ducks were arguing about which group would swim first a flock of geese came over as they were passing by to see what all the fuss was about. They listened, and found that the swans were vain and thought that since they were prettier, and gracefuller that they should use the pond first. They also found that the ducks thought that they should use it becuase the last time the swans refused to let them have their turn. Then a goose said,(more like honked) that they should share the pond since it was rather large. The swans unsurprisingly got mad at this so a fight broke out. The ducks were pulling at the swans feet, and the geese were honking and biting the swans necks, and pulled as hard as they could. About an hour later the fight had ended. The ducks and geese stood there looking humorously at the swans. They had stretched the swans necks out so far that they couldn't hold their heads up. A few hours later the swans had finally shortened their necks at least to the point where they could steadily hold them. But after that day swans, ducks, and geese shared all the ponds in peace, and there were no taking turns. But still today the swans have fairly long necks. The ducks however are no longer ugly,they to are pretty, and a little more graceful.
The Beetle and the Silken Thread « Result #4 on Mar 1, 2009, 10:02pm »
The strange adventures related in the story of the Beetle and the Silken Thread took place in the town of Allahabad, "the City of God," so called because it is situated near the point of meeting of the two sacred rivers of India, the Ganges, which the Hindus lovingly call Mother Ganga because they believe its waters can wash away their sins, and the Jumna, which they consider scarcely less holy.
The ruler of Allahabad was a very selfish and hot-tempered Raja named Surya Pratap, signifying "Powerful as the Sun," who expected everybody to obey him without a moment's delay, and was ready to punish in a very cruel manner those who hesitated to do so. He would never listen to a word of explanation, or own that he had been mistaken, even when he knew full well that he was in the wrong. He had a mantri, that is to say, a chief vizier or officer, whom he greatly trusted, and really seemed to be fond of, for he liked to have him always near him. The vizier was called Dhairya-Sila, or "the Patient One," because he never lost his temper, no matter what provocation he received. He had a beautiful house, much money and many jewels, carriages to drive about in, noble horses to ride and many servants to wait upon him, all given to him by his master. But what he loved best of all was his faithful wife, Buddhi-Mati, or "the Sensible One," whom he had chosen for himself, and who would have died for him.
Many of the Raja's subjects were jealous of Dhairya-Sila, and constantly brought accusations against him, of none of which his master took any notice, except to punish those who tried to set him against his favourite. It really seemed as if nothing would ever bring harm to Dhairya-Sila; but he often told his wife that such good fortune was not likely to last, and that she must be prepared for a change before long.
It turned out that he was right. For one day Surya Pratap ordered him to do what he considered would be a shameful deed. He refused; telling his master that he was wrong to think of such a thing, and entreating him to give up his purpose. "All your life long," he said, "you will wish you had listened to me; for your conscience will never let you rest!"
On hearing these brave words, Surya Pratap flew into a terrible rage, summoned his guards, and ordered them to take Dhairya-Sila outside the city to a very lofty tower, and leave him at the top of it, without shelter from the sun and with nothing to eat or drink. The guards were at first afraid to touch the vizier, remembering how others had been punished for only speaking against him. Seeing their unwillingness, the Raja got more and more angry; but Dhairya-Sila himself kept quite calm, and said to the soldiers:
"I go with you gladly. It is for the master to command and for me to obey."
The guards were relieved to find they need not drag the vizier away; for they admired his courage and felt sure that the Raja would soon find he could not get on without him. It might go hardly with them if he suffered harm at their hands. So they only closed in about him; and holding himself very upright, Dhairya-Sila walked to the tower as if he were quite glad to go. In his heart however he knew full well that it would need all his skill to escape with his life.
When her husband did not come home at night, Buddhi-Mati was very much distressed. She guessed at once that something had gone wrong, and set forth to try and find out what had happened. This was easy enough; for as she crept along, with her veil closely held about her lest she should be recognised, she passed groups of people discussing the terrible fate that had befallen the favourite. She decided that she must wait until midnight, when the streets would be deserted and she could reach the tower unnoticed. It was almost dark when she got there, but in the dim light of the stars she made out the form of him she loved better than herself, leaning over the edge of the railing at the top.
"Is my dear lord still alive?" she whispered, "and is there anything I can do to help him?"
"You can do everything that is needed to help me," answered Dhairya-Sila quietly, "if you only obey every direction I give you. Do not for one moment suppose that I am in despair. I am more powerful even now than my master, who has but shown his weakness by attempting to harm me. Now listen to me. Come to-morrow night at this very hour, bringing with you the following things: first, a beetle; secondly, sixty yards of the finest silk thread, as thin as a spider's web; thirdly, sixty yards of cotton thread, as thin as you can get it, but very strong; fourthly, sixty yards of good stout twine; fifthly, sixty yards of rope, strong enough to carry my weight; and last, but certainly not least, one drop of the purest bees' honey."
Buddhi-Mati listened very attentively to these strange instructions, and began to ask questions about them. "Why do you want the beetle? Why do you want the honey?" and so on. But her husband checked her. "I have no strength to waste in explanations," he said. "Go home in peace, sleep well, and dream of me." So the anxious wife went meekly away; and early the next day she set to work to obey the orders she had received. She had some trouble in obtaining fine enough silk, so very, very thin it had to be, like a spider's web; but the cotton, twine and rope were easily bought; and to her surprise she was not asked what she wanted them for. It took her a good while to choose the beetle. For though she had a vague kind of idea that the silk, the cotton, twine, and rope, were to help her husband get down from the tower, she could not imagine what share the beetle and the honey were to take. In the end she chose a very handsome, strong-looking, brilliantly coloured fellow who lived in the garden of her home and whom she knew to be fond of honey.
All the time Buddhi-Mati was at work for her husband, she was thinking of him and looking forward to the happy day of his return home. She had such faith in him that she did not for a moment doubt that he would escape; but she was anxious about the future, feeling sure that the Raja would never forgive Dhairya-Sila for being wiser than himself. Exactly at the time fixed the faithful wife appeared at the foot of the tower, with all the things she had been told to bring with her.
"Is all well with my lord?" she whispered, as she gazed up through the darkness. "I have the silken thread as fine as gossamer, the cotton thread, the twine, the rope, the beetle and the honey."
"Yes," answered Dhairya-Sila, "all is still well with me. I have slept well, feeling confident that my dear one would bring all that is needed for my safety; but I dread the great heat of another day, and we must lose no time in getting away from this terrible tower. Now attend most carefully to all I bid you do; and remember not to speak loud, or the sentries posted within hearing will take alarm and drive you away. First of all, tie the end of the silken thread round the middle of the beetle, leaving all its legs quite free. Then rub the drop of honey on its nose, and put the little creature on the wall, with its nose turned upwards towards me. It will smell the honey, but will not guess that it carries it itself, and it will crawl upwards in the hope of getting to the hive from which that honey came. Keep the rest of the silk firmly held, and gradually unwind it as the beetle climbs up. Mind you do not let it slip, for my very life depends on that slight link with you."
Buddhi-Mati, though her hands shook and her heart beat fast as she realized all that depended on her, kept the silk from becoming entangled; and when it was nearly all unwound, she heard her husband's voice saying to her: "Now tie the cotton thread to the end of the silk that you hold, and let it gradually unwind." She obeyed, fully understanding now what all these preparations were for.
When the little messenger of life reached the top of the tower, Dhairya-Sila took it up in his hand and very gently unfastened the silken thread from its body. Then he placed the beetle carefully in a fold of his turban, and began to pull the silken thread up--very, very slowly, for if it had broken, his wonderful scheme would have come to an end. Presently he had the cotton thread in his fingers, and he broke off the silk, wound it up, and placed it too in his turban. It had done its duty well, and he would not throw it away.
"Half the work is done now," he whispered to his faithful wife. "You have all but saved me now. Take the twine and tie it to the end of the cotton thread."
Very happily Buddhi-Mati obeyed once more; and soon the cotton thread and twine were also laid aside, and the strong rope tied to the last was being quickly dragged up by the clever vizier, who knew that all fear of death from sunstroke or hunger was over. When he had all the rope on the tower, he fastened one end of it to the iron railing which ran round the platform on which he stood, and very quickly slid down to the bottom, where his wife was waiting for him, trembling with joy.
After embracing his wife and thanking her for saving him, the vizier said to her: "Before we return home, let us give thanks to the great God who helped me in my need by putting into my head the device by which I escaped." The happy pair then prostrated themselves on the ground, and in fervent words of gratitude expressed their sense of what the God they worshipped had done for them. "And now," said Dhairya-Sila, "the next thing we have to do is to take the dear little beetle which was the instrument of my rescue back to the place it came from." And taking off his turban, he showed his wife the tiny creature lying in the soft folds.
Buddhi-Mati led her husband to the garden where she had found the beetle, and Dhairya-Sila laid it tenderly on the ground, fetched some food for it, such as he knew it loved, and there left it to take up its old way of life. The rest of the day he spent quietly in his own home with his wife, keeping out of sight of his servants, lest they should report his return to his master. "You must never breathe a word to any one of how I escaped," Dhairya-Sila said, and his wife promised that she never would.
Ron was a fifteen-year-old teenager, wow power leveling,a tenth-grade student at Granger High School. It was game day, and he was the only sophomore suiting up with the varsity team. Excitedly, he invited his mother to attend. It was her very first football game, and she promised to be there with several of her friends. wow power leveling,The game finally ended, and she was waiting outside the locker room to drive Ron home.
"What did you think of the game, Mom? Did you see the three touchdown passes our team made and our tough defense, and the fumble on the kickoff return that we recovered?" he asked.
His mother replied, "Ron, you were magnificent.wow power leveling, You have such presence, and I was proud of the pride you took in the way you looked. You pulled up your knee socks eleven times during the game, and I could tell you were perspiring in all those bulky pads because you got eight drinks and splashed water on your face twice. I really like how you went out of you way to pat number nineteen,wow gold, number five and number ninety on the back every time they came off the field."
"Mom, how do you know all that? And how can you say I was magnificent?wow gold, I didn't even play in the game." His mother smiled and hugged him. "Ron, I don't know anything about football. wow gold,I didn't come here to watch the game. I came here to watch you!"
True Forgiveness « Result #6 on Feb 18, 2009, 8:15pm »
Forty-three years seems like a long time to remember the name of a mere acquaintance. I have duly forgotten the name of an old lady who was a customer on my paper route when I was a twelve-year-old boy in Marinette, Wisconsin back in 1954. wow power leveling Yet it seems like just yesterday that she taught me a lesson in forgiveness that I can only hope to pass on to someone else someday.
On a mindless Saturday afternoon, wow gold, a friend and I were throwing rocks onto the roof of the old lady¡¯s house from a secluded spot in her backyard. The object of our play was to observe how the rocks changed to missiles as they rolled to the roof¡¯s edge and shot out into the yard like comets falling from the sky.
I found myself a perfectly smooth rock and sent it for a ride. The stone was too smooth, however, so it slipped from my hand as I let it go and headed straight for a small window on the old lady¡¯s back porch. At the sound of fractured glass,wow power leveling we took off from the old lady¡¯s yard faster than any of our missiles flew off her roof.
I was too scared about getting caught that first night to be concerned about the old lady with the broken porch window. However, a few days later, when I was sure that I hadn¡¯t been discovered, I started to feel guilty for her misfortune. She still greeted me with a smile each day when I gave her the paper, but I was no longer able to act comfortable in her presence.
I made up my mind that I would save my paper delivery money, and in three weeks I had the seven dollars that I calculated would cover the cost of her window.wow power leveling I put the money in an envelope with a note explaining that I was sorry for breaking her window and hoped that the seven dollars would cover the cost for repairing it.
I waited until it was dark, snuck up to the old lady¡¯s house, and put the envelope of retribution through the letter slot in her door. My soul felt redeemed and I couldn¡¯t wait for the freedom of, once again, looking straight into the old lady¡¯s eyes.
The next day, wow gold I handed the old lady her paper and was able to return the warm smile that I was receiving from her. She thanked me for the paper and said, ¡°Here, I have something for you.¡± It was a bag of cookies. I thanked her and proceeded to eat the cookies as I continued my route.
After several cookies,wow gold I felt an envelope and pulled it out of the bag. When I opened the envelope, I was stunned. Inside was the seven dollars and a short note that said, ¡°I¡¯m proud of you.¡±
Ron was a fifteen-year-old teenager, wow power leveling,a tenth-grade student at Granger High School. It was game day, and he was the only sophomore suiting up with the varsity team. Excitedly, he invited his mother to attend. It was her very first football game, and she promised to be there with several of her friends. wow power leveling,The game finally ended, and she was waiting outside the locker room to drive Ron home.
"What did you think of the game, Mom? Did you see the three touchdown passes our team made and our tough defense, and the fumble on the kickoff return that we recovered?" he asked.
His mother replied, "Ron, you were magnificent.wow power leveling, You have such presence, and I was proud of the pride you took in the way you looked. You pulled up your knee socks eleven times during the game, and I could tell you were perspiring in all those bulky pads because you got eight drinks and splashed water on your face twice. I really like how you went out of you way to pat number nineteen,wow gold, number five and number ninety on the back every time they came off the field."
"Mom, how do you know all that? And how can you say I was magnificent?wow gold, I didn't even play in the game." His mother smiled and hugged him. "Ron, I don't know anything about football. wow gold,I didn't come here to watch the game. I came here to watch you!"
You asked me to sing to you. I complained, "Aw, Mom, I'll wake people up." Once again, I let my ever-present stage fright come before you. Looking back, it's hard to believe I was so selfish. But you persisted, and eventually I caved. I sang our favorites - Barbara Streisand,wow power leveling Linda Ronstadt and Bette Midler. My voice was quiet and hushed, commensurate with the dim light in the room. I made sure the sound didn't penetrate the walls. You listened with your eyes closed, then thanked me and told me how lovely and peaceful it was.
When we brought you home that last week in January, I would sit with you in the evenings. I read to you from The Tragedy of Richard the Third, knowing it was your favorite. Of course, I made sarcastic comments along the way. "Lady Anne was the biggest idiot in the world." My eyes searched yours for a response, hoping they would open and smile at my glib attempts.
I read you poetry from Robbie Burns and Walt Whitman, and rubbed lotion on your hands. Finally, I worked up the courage to sing to you again. You weren't able to ask me this time. Grandma peeked through the door and gave us a tearful smile.wow gold I stopped. "Keep singing to your mother," she said. When I finished Dad asked me, "Would you sing at the memorial service?" You were lying right beside me, and suddenly it seemed so perverse to have this conversation in front of you. "I don't know if I can. I'll try." We didn't speak of it again.
That Saturday, after you were gone, I went home and practiced with a little help from the Absolut bottle.wow gold I needed you to hear me one last time, beautiful and unblemished.
And then there I was, standing at the podium. I didn't tell anyone what was planned in case I chickened out. While the minister told me when to come up during the service, Shirley, who was giving the eulogy asked,wow power leveling "But what if someone stands up before Jennifer?" I shot back, "Well, now - they'll just have to wait, won't they?" She laughed, "You are just like your mother." I smiled and thanked her for the compliment.
My hands shook as I faced the microphone. I spoke a few words to gather my courage and compose myself. Then, very quietly, I sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow."
I thought back to when I was a little girl. You would call me on the phone during one of your trips to watch The Wizard of Oz with me on TV. Miles apart and racking up the long distance charges, we would both squeal during the tornado scene. We sang duets, and trios when Ashlea rode in the car with us.wow gold It was our song.
I finished the last line, "If happy little bluebirds fly, beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?" Then I whispered,wow power leveling "Mom, you have beautiful wings now. May they take you wherever you want to go..."
At least a hundred people witnessed the most difficult moment of my life, but only one person mattered. Of course I will sing for you, Mom. Feel free to ask me any time.
True Heroes Earn the Title « Result #9 on Feb 12, 2009, 9:59pm »
Star athletes have played an important part in the lives of young children as far back as history remembers sports and its heroes. Every youngster has had at least one hero that he worshipped above all others. Such idolization is not always etched in stone however, and heroes have been known to change for many reasons.wow power leveling I was involved in such a change in 1960. My father was an Air Force master sergeant stationed at a radar station in Bellefontaine, Ohio. The Cincinnati Reds offered discount seating to military personnel in uniform and my father decided to take a group of airman to a game at old Crosley Field. I was included as an afterthought and was thrilled at finally being able to see a big league game. The double header between the hometown Reds and the Pittsburgh Pirates was going to be a highlight in my relatively short life.
Although I was an avid New York Yankee fan one of my favorite baseball players, Roy Face was a star relief pitcher for the Pirates and I was hoping to get his autograph.wow gold My father bought me a brand new baseball just in case.wow gold I could hardly contain myself on the drive to Cincinnati.
We arrived at the stadium a few minutes before the players were due to take the field and I lined up with several other youngsters at the entrance to the Pirate locker room. As the players filed out to enter the runway to the dugout, I looked anxiously for Roy Face. I finally saw him coming and in my best manners stepped up and asked him for his autograph. He calmly ignored me and proceeded down the runway.wow power leveling I was stunned! One of my favorite heroes had brushed me off without the slightest acknowledgement at all. I stood there pondering what to do next when a large arm appeared around my shoulders and a hand took the ball from my grasp. I looked up to see a beaming smile beneath a Pirate hat and a large 2l on the jersey. The man handed me the ball with a wink and headed onto the field. I looked down at the ball and could not believe that it now proudly bore the name ROBERTO CLEMENTE in bold black ink. Roy Face's spot on my hero list had just been filled by one of greatest players in the game. Clemente played an important part in the Pirate's sweep of the double header that day and helped lead his team to a World Series victory over my Yankees that October. Despite that, he remained one of my greatest heroes until his death in a 1972 airplane crash while flying relief supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua.wow gold By this time I had followed my father into the Air force and was stationed in Southeast Asia. When I learned of Clemente's death I could only marvel that the man who had helped find a hero had been a bonafide hero trying to help an entire nation.
Only die-hard fans will remember who Roy Face was,wow power leveling but children who were not born when he died can tell you all about Roberto Clemente. That is heroism at its finest.
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