I also do not have:
And pictures: Yes, my fear is of having an airplane crash whilst parachuting. What's your greatest fear? Answers in the comments please kthanxbai! Jumblerant
|JayG convincing people to sponsor him|
I was in my neighborhood restaurant this morning and was seated behind a group of jubilant individuals celebrating the successful passing of the recent health care bill.
This is what ensued:
They were a diverse group of several races and both sexes.
I heard the young man exclaim, “Isn’t Obama like Jesus Christ?
I mean, after all, he is healing the sick”.
The young woman enthusiastically proclaimed, “Yeah, and he does it for free.
I cannot believe anyone would think that a free market would work for health care.
They are all crooks and thieves and don’t deserve all of that money.”
Another said, ‘The stupid Republicans want us all to starve to death so they can inherit all of the power.
Obama should be made a saint for what he did for those of us less fortunate.”
At this, I had had enough.
I arose from my seat, mustering all the restraint I could find, and approached their table.
“Please excuse me; may I impose upon you for one moment?
”They smiled and welcomed me to the conversation.
I stood at the end of their table, smiled as best I could and began an experiment.
“I would like to give one of you my house.
It will cost you no money and I will pay all of the expenses and taxes for as long as you live there.
Anyone interested?” They looked at each other in astonishment.
“Why would you do something like that?” asked a young man, “There isn’t anything for free in this world”.
They began to laugh at me, as they did not realize this man had just made my point.
“I am serious, I will give you my house for free, no money what so ever. Anyone interested?”
In unison, a resounding” Hell Yeah” fills the room.
“Since there are too many of you, I will have to make a choice as to who receives this money free bargain.”
I noticed an elderly couple was paying attention to the spectacle unfolding before their eyes, the old man shaking
his head in apparent disgust.
“I tell you what; I will give it to the one of you most willing to obey my rules.”
Again, they looked at one another, an expression of bewilderment on their faces.
The perky young woman asked, “What are the rules?” I smiled and said, “I don’t know.
I have not yet defined them.
However, it is a free home that I offer you.”
They giggled amongst themselves, the youngest of which said, “What an old coot.
He must be crazy to give away his home.
Go take your meds, old man.”
I smiled and leaned into the table a bit further.
I am serious, this is a legitimate offer.
They gaped at me for a moment.
Hell, I’ll take it you old fool.
Where are the keys?” boasted the youngest among them.
Then I presume you accept ALL of my terms then? I asked.
The elderly couple seemed amused and entertained as they watched from the privacy of their table.
“Oh hell yeah! Where do I sign up?”
I took a napkin and wrote, “I give this man my home, without the burden of financial obligation, so long as he accepts and abides by the terms that I shall set forth upon consummation of this transaction.”
I signed it and handed it to the young man who eagerly scratched out his signature.
“Where are the keys to my new house?” he asked in a mocking tone of voice.
All eyes were upon us as I stepped back from the table, pulling the keys from pocket and dangling them before the excited new homeowner.
Now that we have entered into this binding contract, witnessed by all of your friends, I have decided upon the conditions you are obligated to adhere from this point forward.
You may only live in the house for one hour a day.
You will not use anything inside of the home.
You will obey me without question or resistance.
I expect complete loyalty and admiration for this gift I bestow upon you.
You will accept my commands and wishes with enthusiasm, no matter the nature.
Your morals and principles shall be as mine.
You will vote as I do, think as I do and do it with blind faith.
These are my terms.
Here are your keys.” I reached the keys forward and the young man looked at me dumb founded.
Are you out of your freaking mind? Who would ever agree to those ridiculous terms?” the young man appeared irritated. You did when you signed this contract before reading it, understanding it and with the full knowledge that I would provide my conditions only after you committed to the agreement.
Was all I said. The elderly man chuckled as his wife tried to restrain him.
I was looking at a now silenced and bewildered group of people.
You can shove that stupid deal up you’re a** old man, I want no part of it exclaimed the now infuriated young man.
You have committed to the contract, as witnessed by all of your friends; you cannot get out of the deal unless I agree to it.
I do not intend to let you free now that I have you ensnared.
I am the power you agreed to.
I am the one you blindly and without thought chose to enslave yourself to.
In short, I am your Master. At this, the table of celebrating individuals became a unified group against the unfairness of the deal.
After a few moments of unrepeatable comments and slurs, I revealed my true intent.
What I did to you is what this administration and congress did to you with the health care legislation.
I easily suckered you in and then revealed the real cost of the bargain.
Your folly was in the belief that you can have something you did not earn; that you are entitled to that which you did not earn; that you willingly allowed someone else to think for you.
Your failure to research, study and inform yourself permitted reason to escape you.
You have entered into a trap from which you cannot flee.
Your only chance of freedom is if your new Master gives it unto you.
A freedom that is given can also be taken away; therefore, it is not freedom.
With that, I tore up the napkin and placed it before the astonished young man.
This is the nature of your new health care legislation.”
I turned away to leave these few in thought and contemplation and was surprised by applause.
The elderly gentleman, who was clearly entertained, shook my hand enthusiastically and said, Thank you Sir, these kids don’t understand Liberty these days.
He refused to allow me to pay my bill as he said, You earned this one, it is an honor to pickup the tab.
I shook his hand in thanks, leaving the restaurant somewhat humbled, and sensing a glimmer of hope for my beloved country.
Four White Cops, One Angry Black Man
… and the angry black man was high on drugs and emotionally despondent over the inability to kick his addiction.
And the incident ended not with gunfire, or with the black man writhing on the ground at the end of a Taser, but with the angry black man walking to the ambulance and climbing aboard, of his own free will. The EMTs bandaged the man’s lacerated wrists as he sobbed brokenly, and the cops quietly assured him that they were there to help, not arrest, and that they’d do whatever it took to get the angry black man the help he needed.
And when the angry black man thanked one of the white cops for treating him like a man and a fellow human being, and begged him to accompany him to the hospital, the white cop promised that he’d follow right behind the ambulance, and he’d be there with him in the ER as he went through what was undoubtedly a very frightening time for the angry black man.
He delivered on his promise, too.
That’s how the majority of these encounters go, you know. Doesn’t matter if the cops are white and the angry man is black, or vice versa. With a little compassion and a lot of communication, the vast majority of such incidents end without harm or bloodshed. I see them play out this way every day.
I tell you this story not because it is unusual, but because it isn’t.
You know, just in case you got the opposite impression from what you always see in the news.
In the last 3 days I have beaten her 3 times.
The article continues;
Ramadan Hediya, 35, who makes deliveries for a supermarket, lives in Madinat el Salam, a low-income community on the outskirts of Cairo.
“The whole area is trash,” Mr. Hediya said. “All the pathways are full of trash. When you open up your window to breathe, you find garbage heaps on the ground.”What started out as an impulsive response to the swine flu threat has turned into a social, environmental and political problem for the Arab world’s most populous nation.
New York Times, 19/9/09
It has exposed the failings of a government where the power is concentrated at the top, where decisions are often carried out with little consideration for their consequences and where follow-up is often nonexistent, according to social commentators and government officials.
Image via Wikipedia“The main problem in Egypt is follow-up,” said Sabir Abdel Aziz Galal, chief of the infectious disease department at the Ministry of Agriculture. “A decision is taken, there is follow-up for a period of time, but after that, they get busy with something else and forget about it. This is the case with everything.”
After having their 11th child, an Arkansas couple decided that was enough, as they couldn't afford a larger bed. So her husband went to his veterinarian and told him that his cousin didn't want to have anymore children. His doctor told him there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem but it was expensive. A less costly alternative, said the doctor, was to go home, get a cherry bomb, light it and put it in a beer can, then hold it can up to his ear and count to 10.
The Arkansas man said to the doctor "I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I don't see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can next to my ear and counting to 10 is gonna help me." "Trust me" said the doctor. So the man went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held it up to his ear and began to count:
At which point he paused, placed the can between his legs and resumed counting on the other hand.
Image via Wikipedia
Debra Bader was taking a walk in the woods with her 53-year-old husband one morning when suddenly he collapsed. At first she thought the situation was hopeless
Debra Bader was prompted to perform CRP on her husband, Christopher, after recalling a public service ad.
"I looked at him and said, 'He's dead,' because he wasn't moving or making any sounds at all," Bader remembers. "But I pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and called 911, and then a public service announcement I'd heard on the radio popped into my head."
The one-minute PSA from the American Heart Association instructed listeners, in the event of cardiac arrest, to perform chest compressions very hard to the beat of the 1970s Bee Gees song "Staying Alive.
Bader says doctors at the hospital where her husband was treated have an alternative song. "They told me they do CPR to 'Another One Bites the Dust,' which also has about 100 beats per minute," Bader says. "Doctors have kind of a dark sense of humor.""I do now," she saysSo does Bader like the song "Stayin' Alive"?