Welcome to 'OZ' - The 'Other' Side of the Rainbow!! Posting is at 10AM, Noon and 2PM CST daily. Up to 12 days of posts on the main page. The archives have more. You can forward posts by clicking on the envelope at the bottom of the post. Enjoy your stay! *** If you need to contact me, or have a copyright issue, please use the "Contact The Wizard" form on the left side of 'OZ'. Original source and author is cited and credited in each post where possible. ***
Tuesday, December 05, 2017
Monday, December 04, 2017
BANANA TEST
Don't scroll past the animals until you have decided upon your answer .............
The Banana Test
There is a very, very tall coconut tree and there are 4 animals:
A Lion, A Chimp, A Giraffe, ......AND... A Squirrel.
They decide to compete to see who is the fastest to get a banana off the tree.
Who do you guess will win?
Your answer will reflect your personality.
So think carefully . . ..
Try and answer within 30 seconds. Got your answer?
Now scroll down to see the analysis.
If your answer is:
Lion = you're dull.
Chimpanzee = you're dense.
Giraffe = you're a complete moron.
Squirrel = you're hopeless.
A COCONUT TREE DOESN'T HAVE BANANAS.
Obviously you're stressed and overworked.
You should take some time off and relax!
Now hurry up and forward this post to someone....
The Banana Test
There is a very, very tall coconut tree and there are 4 animals:
A Lion, A Chimp, A Giraffe, ......AND... A Squirrel.
They decide to compete to see who is the fastest to get a banana off the tree.
Who do you guess will win?
Your answer will reflect your personality.
So think carefully . . ..
Try and answer within 30 seconds. Got your answer?
Now scroll down to see the analysis.
If your answer is:
Lion = you're dull.
Chimpanzee = you're dense.
Giraffe = you're a complete moron.
Squirrel = you're hopeless.
A COCONUT TREE DOESN'T HAVE BANANAS.
Obviously you're stressed and overworked.
You should take some time off and relax!
Now hurry up and forward this post to someone....
The Chicken Plucker (great story)
A DREAMER AND HIS DREAM
Let me tell you, Jesse hated this job. And you would too, I imagine, if you had to do it. Jesse was a chicken plucker. That's right.
He stood on a line in a chicken factory and spent his days pulling the feathers off dead chickens so the rest of us wouldn't have to. It wasn't much of a job.
But at the time, Jesse didn't think he was much of a person.
His father was a brute of a man.
His dad was actually thought to be mentally ill and treated Jesse rough all of his life.
Jesse's older brother wasn't much better.
He was always picking on Jesse and beating him up.
Yes, Jesse grew up in a very rough home in West Virginia.
Life was anything but easy. And he thought life didn't hold much hope for him.
That's why he was standing in this chicken line, doing a job that darn few people wanted. In addition to all the rough treatment at home, it seems that Jesse was always sick. Sometimes it was real physical illness, but way too often it was all in his head. He was a small child, skinny and meek.
That sure didn't help the situation any.
When he started to school, he was the object of every bully on the playground. He was a hypochondriac of the first order. For Jesse, tomorrow was not always something to be looked forward to.
But, he had dreams.
He wanted to be a ventriloquist.
He found books on ventriloquism.
He practiced with sock puppets and saved his hard earned dollars until he could get a real ventriloquist dummy.
When he got old enough, he joined the military.
And even though many of his hypochondriac symptoms persisted, the military did recognize his talents and put him in the entertainment corp.
That was when his world changed.
He gained confidence.
He found that he had a talent for making people laugh, and laugh so hard they often had tears in their eyes.
Yes, little Jesse had found himself.
You know, folks, the history books are full of people who overcame a handicap to go on and make a success of themselves, but Jesse is one of the few I know of who didn't overcome it.
Instead he used his paranoia to make a million dollars, and become one of the best-loved characters of all time in doing it!
Yes, that little paranoid hypochondriac, who transferred his nervousness into a successful career, still holds the record for the most Emmys given in a single category.
The wonderful, gifted, talented, and nervous comedian who brought us:
Let me tell you, Jesse hated this job. And you would too, I imagine, if you had to do it. Jesse was a chicken plucker. That's right.
He stood on a line in a chicken factory and spent his days pulling the feathers off dead chickens so the rest of us wouldn't have to. It wasn't much of a job.
But at the time, Jesse didn't think he was much of a person.
His father was a brute of a man.
His dad was actually thought to be mentally ill and treated Jesse rough all of his life.
Jesse's older brother wasn't much better.
He was always picking on Jesse and beating him up.
Yes, Jesse grew up in a very rough home in West Virginia.
Life was anything but easy. And he thought life didn't hold much hope for him.
That's why he was standing in this chicken line, doing a job that darn few people wanted. In addition to all the rough treatment at home, it seems that Jesse was always sick. Sometimes it was real physical illness, but way too often it was all in his head. He was a small child, skinny and meek.
That sure didn't help the situation any.
When he started to school, he was the object of every bully on the playground. He was a hypochondriac of the first order. For Jesse, tomorrow was not always something to be looked forward to.
But, he had dreams.
He wanted to be a ventriloquist.
He found books on ventriloquism.
He practiced with sock puppets and saved his hard earned dollars until he could get a real ventriloquist dummy.
When he got old enough, he joined the military.
And even though many of his hypochondriac symptoms persisted, the military did recognize his talents and put him in the entertainment corp.
That was when his world changed.
He gained confidence.
He found that he had a talent for making people laugh, and laugh so hard they often had tears in their eyes.
Yes, little Jesse had found himself.
You know, folks, the history books are full of people who overcame a handicap to go on and make a success of themselves, but Jesse is one of the few I know of who didn't overcome it.
Instead he used his paranoia to make a million dollars, and become one of the best-loved characters of all time in doing it!
Yes, that little paranoid hypochondriac, who transferred his nervousness into a successful career, still holds the record for the most Emmys given in a single category.
The wonderful, gifted, talented, and nervous comedian who brought us:
Barney Fife
and was
Jesse Don Knotts.
and was
Jesse Don Knotts.
NOW YOU KNOW, "THE REST OF THE STORY"
Crabby Old Woman?
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Ireland.
The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health.
A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet:
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . we will all, one day, be there, too!
PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM. IT'S SOMETHING WE ALL NEED TO READ.
Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Ireland.
The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health.
A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet:
Crabby Old Woman
What do you see, nurses?
What do you see?
What are you thinking
When you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit,
With faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food
And makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
"I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice
The things that you do,
And forever is losing
A stocking or shoe?
Who, resisting or not,
Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding,
The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse,
You're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am
As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten
With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters,
Who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen
With wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now
A lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty,
My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows
That I promised to keep
At twenty-five now,
I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide
And a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty,
My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other
With ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons
Have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me
To see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more,
Babies play round my knee,
Again we know children,
My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me,
My husband is dead,
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing
Young of their own,
And I think of the years
And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman
And nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age
Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles,
Grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone
Where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass
A young girl still dwells,
And now and again,
My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living
Life over again.
I think of the years
All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact
That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people,
Open and see,
Not a crabby old woman;
Look closer . . . see ME!!
What do you see, nurses?
What do you see?
What are you thinking
When you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman,
Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit,
With faraway eyes?
Who dribbles her food
And makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
"I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice
The things that you do,
And forever is losing
A stocking or shoe?
Who, resisting or not,
Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding,
The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse,
You're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am
As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,
As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten
With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters,
Who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen
With wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now
A lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty,
My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows
That I promised to keep
At twenty-five now,
I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide
And a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty,
My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other
With ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons
Have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me
To see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more,
Babies play round my knee,
Again we know children,
My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me,
My husband is dead,
I look at the future,
I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing
Young of their own,
And I think of the years
And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman
And nature is cruel;
'Tis jest to make old age
Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles,
Grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone
Where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass
A young girl still dwells,
And now and again,
My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys,
I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living
Life over again.
I think of the years
All too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact
That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people,
Open and see,
Not a crabby old woman;
Look closer . . . see ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . we will all, one day, be there, too!
PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM. IT'S SOMETHING WE ALL NEED TO READ.
Sunday, December 03, 2017
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