Interesting facts

--More at TheCHIVE.com

What is The Earth Worth? - VSAUCE

You HAVE to subscribe to this guy's videos. Awesomeness! 

Homosexual PDA Turns Heads in Mississippi

Coober Pedy, Australia

Average Summer temp of 35 degrees C in the shade, to 47.8 degrees with unrelenting sun and dust storms.......where is the choice?

EMBARRASSING MEDICAL EXAMS

1. A man comes into the ER and yells . . .'

My wife's going to have her baby in the cab.'

I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, lifted the lady's dress and began to take off her underwear.

Suddenly I noticed that there were several cabs - - -

and I was in the wrong one.

Submitted by Dr. Mark MacDonald ,

San Francisco



2. At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and slightly deaf female patient's anterior chest wall..

'Big breaths,'. . . I instructed.

'Yes, they used to be,'. . . Replied the patient.

Submitted by Dr. Richard Byrnes ,

Seattle , WA



3. One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I told a wife that her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct.

Not more than five minutes later, I heard her

Reporting to the rest of the family that he had

Died of a 'massive internal fart.'


Submitted by Dr. Susan Steinberg



4. During a patient's two week follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he was having trouble with One of his medications.

?Which one?'. ... . I asked. 'The patch...

The Nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm running out of places to put it!'

I had him quickly undress and discovered what I hoped I wouldn't see.

Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body!

Now, the instructions include removal of the old patch before applying a new one.


Submitted by Dr. Rebecca St. Clair ,

Norfolk , VA



5. While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, 'How long have you been bedridden?'

After a look of complete confusion she answered .. . .

' Why, not for about twenty years - when my husband was alive.'


Submitted by Dr. Steven Swanson-

Corvallis , OR



6. I was performing rounds at the hospital one morning and while checking up on a man I asked . . .' So how's your breakfast this morning?' ?It's very good except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can't seem to get used to the taste. Bob replied.

I then asked to see the jelly and Bob produced

A foil packet labeled 'KY Jelly.'


Submitted by Dr. Leonard Kransdorf ,

Detroit , MI



7. A nurse was on duty in the Emergency Room when a young woman with purple hair styled

Into a punk rocker Mohawk, sporting a variety of tattoos, and wearing strange clothing,

Entered .. . .. It was quickly determined that the patient had acute appendicitis, so she was

Scheduled for immediate surgery.. When she was completely disrobed on the operating

Table, the staff noticed that her pubic hair had been dyed green and above it there was a

Tattoo that read . . .' Keep off the grass.'

Once the surgery was completed, the surgeon wrote a short note on the patient's dressing,

Which said 'Sorry . . . Had to mow the lawn.'


Submitted by RN (no name)



AND FINALLY!! ! . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . .



8. As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB.

I was quite embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams... To cover my embarrassment

I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly.

The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing

And further embarrassing me.

I looked up from my work and sheepishly said.. . ...

' I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?'

She replied with tears running down her cheeks from laughing so hard .. ... ..

' No doctor but the song you were whistling was .. . ...

' I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener .'


(Dr. Wouldn't submit his name.....)


1 MORE


Baby's First Doctor Visit


This made me laugh out loud.

I hope it will give you a smile!

A woman and a baby were in the doctor's examining room, waiting for the doctor to come in for the baby's first exam.

The doctor arrived, and examined the baby, checked his weight, and being a little concerned, asked if the baby was breast-fed or bottle-fed.

'Breast-fed,' she replied..

'Well, strip down to your waist,' the doctor ordered.

She did He pinched her nipples, pressed, kneaded, and rubbed both breasts for a while in a very professional and detailed examination.

Motioning to her to get dressed, the doctor said, 'No wonder this baby is underweight. You don't have any milk.'

I know,' she said, 'I'm his Grandma,

But I'm glad I came.

Happy Man Day to Everyone

A person took this picture, in Shakopee, MN. He and one of his co-workers were driving by and had to circle the block. It's a guy cutting down a tree in his backyard. The cops showed up, telling the guy he couldn't do what he was doing. He told them to go to hell it's his property and his tree.

AND THIS WOULD BE ANOTHER REASON WHY WOMEN LIVE LONGER THAN MEN??????

Man dances on treadmill

The 411 - "Boxing Day"

Boxing Day, December 26th, is a public holiday in the United Kingdom, Australia (excluding South Australia), Canada, New Zealand and countries in the Commonwealth of Nations with a mainly Christian population. It is based on the tradition of giving gifts to the less fortunate members of society. Contemporary Boxing Day in many countries is now a "shopping holiday" associated with after-Christmas sales.

This day is historically England's name for St Stephen's Day - St. Stephen was one of the first Christian martyrs, being stoned to death in Jerusalem around A.D. 34-35 - the 26th December, which is a public holiday in most countries in Europe and many countries around the world with predominantly Christian populations. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, St Stephen's Day is celebrated on the 27th of December, although in Greece the Greek Boxing Day (Synaxis Theotokou, Σύναξις Θεοτόκου) is also celebrated as a public holiday on the 26th of December and is not related to the English version.

In Ireland the Bank Holidays Act 1871 established the feast day of St. Stephen's Day as a non-moveable public holiday on December the 26th, although since partition the name "Boxing Day" is used by the authorities in Northern Ireland and it has become a moveable public holiday in line with the rest of the UK. The Banking and Financial Dealings Act of 1971 established "Boxing Day" as a public holiday in Scotland. In the Australian state of South Australia, December the 26th is a public holiday known as Proclamation Day.

It is usually celebrated on the 26th of December, the day after Christmas Day; however, unlike St Stephen's Day, Boxing Day is not always on the 26th of December, its associated public holiday can be moved to the next weekday if the 26th of December is a Saturday or Sunday. The movement of Boxing Day varies between countries.

Origins
Boxing Day dates back to past centuries when it was the custom for the wealthy to give gifts to employees or to people in a lower social class, most especially to household servants and other service personnel. The name has numerous folk etymologies.

As with Christmas itself, some elements of Boxing Day are also likely related to, and ultimately derived from, the ancient Roman Saturnalia, which also had elements of gift giving and social role reversal.

Date
In the countries that observe this holiday, 26 December is commonly referred to as Boxing Day, no matter what day of the week it occurs. However, in some countries, fixed-date holidays falling on Saturday or Sunday are often observed on the next weekday. Technically, Boxing Day cannot be on a Sunday - that day being the officially recognized day of worship, so traditionally it was the next working day of the week following Christmas Day, (i.e. any day from Monday to Saturday). In recent times this tradition has been either forgotten or ignored, and 26 December is considered by most to be Boxing Day when it falls on a Sunday. 1993 was the last year when 26 December was called Christmas Sunday in the UK; in 1999, the next time the date fell on a Sunday, it was Boxing Day.

If Boxing Day falls on a Saturday, then Monday 28 December is declared a public holiday. In the United Kingdom and some other countries this is accomplished by Royal Proclamation. In some Canadian provinces, Boxing Day is a statutory holiday and is always celebrated on 26 December. As with most statutory holidays in Canada if it falls on a Saturday or Sunday, compensation days are given in the following week.

If Boxing Day falls on a Sunday, then in countries where it is a public holiday the Statutory Holiday is moved to Monday 27 December. In that event, Christmas Day would be on a Saturday, so Tuesday 28 December would be declared a holiday in lieu, that being the next available working day - thus the Boxing Day holiday occurs before the substitute Christmas holiday.

If Christmas Day falls on a Sunday, then Boxing Day is on Monday 26 December, and no Royal Proclamation is required. In such a circumstance, a 'substitute bank holiday in lieu of Christmas Day' is declared for Tuesday 27 December; again with the Boxing Day holiday occurring before the substitute Christmas holiday.

Although the same legislation—the Bank Holidays Act 1871—originally established the Bank Holidays throughout the United Kingdom, the holiday after Christmas was defined as Boxing Day in England and Wales, and the feast day of St. Stephen's Day in Ireland.

In Australia and Canada, Boxing Day is primarily known as a shopping holiday, and a time where stores have sales, often with dramatic price decreases. For many merchants, it has become the day of the year with the greatest revenue. In recent years, this has been expanded to "Boxing Week". While Boxing Day is actually on 26 December, many retailers who hold Boxing Day Sales will run the sales for several days before or after 26 December, often up to New Year's Eve.

In some areas of Canada, particularly in Atlantic Canada and parts of Northern Ontario, most retailers are prohibited by law from opening on Boxing Day. In these cases, any sales specifically scheduled for December 26 are moved to the 27th.
*Wikipedia

The story of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

Did you know the origin of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? I had never heard this story. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!!!

A guy named Bob May, depressed and brokenhearted, stared out his drafty apartment window into the chilling December night. His 4-year-old daughter, Barbara, sat on his lap quietly sobbing. Bobs wife, Evelyn, was dying of cancer. Little Barbara couldn't understand why her mommy could never come home. Barbara looked up into her dads eyes and asked, "Why isn't Mommy just like everybody else's Mommy?" Bob's jaw tightened and his eyes welled with tears. Her question brought waves of grief, but also of anger. It had been the story of Bob's life. Life always had to be different for Bob. Being small when he was a kid, Bob was often bullied by other boys. He was too little at the time to compete in sports. He was often called names he'd rather not remember.

From childhood, Bob was different and never seemed to fit in. Bob did complete college, married his loving wife and was grateful to get his job as a copywriter at Montgomery Ward during the Great Depression. Then he was blessed with his little girl. But it was all short-lived. Evelyn's bout with cancer stripped them of all their savings and now Bob and his daughter were forced to live in a two-room apartment in the Chicago slums. Evelyn died just days before Christmas in 1938. Bob struggled to give hope to his child, for whom he couldn't even afford to buy a Christmas gift.

But if he couldn't buy a gift, he was determined a make one - a storybook!

Bob had created an animal character in his own mind and told the animal's story to little Barbara to give her comfort and hope. Again and again Bob told the story, embellishing it more with each telling. Who was the character? What was the story all about? The story Bob May created was his own autobiography in fable form. The character he created was a misfit outcast like he was. The name of the character? A little reindeer named Rudolph, with a big shiny nose.

Bob finished the book just in time to give it to his little girl on Christmas Day. But the story doesn't end there. The general manager of Montgomery Ward caught wind of the little storybook and offered Bob May a nominal fee to purchase the rights to print the book. Wards went on to print Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and distribute it to children visiting Santa Claus in their stores.

By 1946 Wards had printed and distributed more than six million copies of Rudolph. That same year, a major publisher wanted to purchase the rights from Wards to print an updated version of the book. In an unprecedented gesture of kindness, the CEO of Wards returned all rights back to Bob May. The book became a best seller. Many toy and marketing deals followed and Bob May, now remarried with a growing family, became wealthy from the story he created to comfort his grieving daughter.

But the story doesn't end there either. Bob's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, made a song adaptation to Rudolph. Though the song was turned down by such popular vocalists as Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore , it was recorded by the singing cowboy, Gene Autry. "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was released in 1949 and became a phenomenal success, selling more records than any other Christmas song, with the exception of "White Christmas." The gift of love that Bob May created for his daughter so long ago kept on returning to bless him again and again. And Bob May learned the lesson, just like his dear friend Rudolph, that being different isn't so bad. In fact, being different can be a blessing!

*Thanks, Wes

A Christmas Story for people having a bad day

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.


Then Mrs Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.


When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.


Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.


Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?"


And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas to all my readers!

and Best Wishes for a safe and prosperous new year!

from The Wizard of 'OZ'

From left to right, Dwight, Santa Claus and The Wizard

Merry Christmas

IF YOU SEE A FAT MAN ...

Who's jolly and cute,

Wearing a beard and
a red flannel suit,



And if he is chuckling
and laughing away,



While flying around
in a miniature sleigh,


With eight tiny reindeer
to pull him along,

Then let's face it...



Your eggnog's too strong!




Merry Christmas and a Happy 2O19!

The Boy with the Box - a Christmas Story

BY: MARY GRIGGS VAN VOORHIS

It was an ideal Christmas day. The sun shone brightly but the air was crisp and cold, and snow and ice lay sparkling everywhere. A light wind, the night before, had swept the blue, icebound river clean of scattering snow; and, by two o'clock in the afternoon, the broad bend near Creighton's mill was fairly alive with skaters. The girls in gay caps and scarfs, the boys in sweaters and mackinaws of every conceivable hue, with here and there a plump, matronly figure in a plush coat or a tiny fellow in scarlet, made a picture of life and brilliancy worthy of an artist's finest skill.

Tom Reynolds moved in and out among the happy throng, with swift, easy strokes, his cap on the back of his curly head, and his brown eyes shining with excitement. Now and again, he glanced down with pardonable pride, at the brand new skates that twinkled beneath his feet. "Jolly Ramblers," sure enough "Jolly Ramblers" they were! Ever since Ralph Evans had remarked, with a tantalizing toss of his handsome head, that "no game fellow would try to skate on anything but 'Jolly Ramblers,'" Tom had yearned, with an inexpressible longing, for a pair of these wonderful skates. And now they were his and the ice was fine and the Christmas sun was shining!

Tom was rounding the big bend for the fiftieth time, when he saw, skimming gracefully toward him through the merry crowd, a tall boy in a fur-trimmed coat, his handsome head proudly erect."That's Ralph Evans now," said Tom to himself. "Just wait till you see these skates, old boy, and maybe you won't feel so smart!" And with slow, cautious strokes, he made his way through laughing boys and girls to a place just in front of the tall skater, coming toward him down the broad white way. When Ralph was almost upon him, Tom paused and in conspicuous silence, looked down at his shining skates.

"Hullo," said Ralph good naturedly, seizing Tom's arm and swinging around. Then, taking in the situation with a careless glance, he added, "Get a new pair of skates for Christmas?" "'Jolly Ramblers,'" said Tom impressively, "the best 'Jolly Ramblers' in the market!" Ralph was a full half head the taller, but, as Tom delivered himself of this speech with his head held high, he felt every inch as tall as the boy before him.

If Ralph was deeply impressed he failed to show it, as he answered carelessly, "Huh, that so? Pretty good little skates they are, the 'Jolly Ramblers!'"
"You said no game fellow would use any other make," said Tom hotly.
"O but that was nearly a year ago," said Ralph. "I got a new pair of skates for Christmas, too," he added,as if it had just occurred to him, "'Club House' skates, something new in the market just this season.
Just look at the curve of that skate, will you?" he added, lifting a foot for inspection, "and that clamp that you couldn't shake off if you had to! They're guaranteed for a year, too, and if anything gives out, you get a new pair for nothing. Three and a half, they cost, at Mr. Harrison's hardware store. I gave my 'Jolly Ramblers' to a kid about your size. A mighty good little skate they are!" And, with a long, graceful stroke, Ralph Evans skated away.

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

*by Clement Clarke Moore
or Henry Livingston

What We Did Before Semi-Automatics and Crack

I was stuck in the Jerk-Off Queue From Hell when I got an email from my sister listing all the things I remember from being a kid. I’ve added a few of my own, and if your over 35, then this is sure to make you smile.

Before having 200 parentally controlled digital channels, I remember…

Listening to AM radio in the dark.
Rabbit ears and aluminum foil.
When finding out you missed a Peanut’s special was the worst thing that could happen.
A 13" black and white TV in your room meant you were RICH.
Our first Betamax and the two movies you could watch on it.
Creature Double Feature, Kung Fu Theater and the Million Dollar Movie.
The After School Special, Saturday morning cartoons and Sunday morning oldies.
The National Anthem at midnight and snowy screens.

Before PlayStation, Nintendo and even before Atari, I remember when the streets were for…

Stickball in the afternoon and Kick-the-Can at dusk.
Roller skates and skateboards with metal wheels.
Learning to ride your bike with no hands.
Discovering new abilities as the result of a triple-dog-dare.
Double Dutch, Hopscotch, Jacks and chalk drawings.

And the playgrounds were for…

Dodgeball, Kick Ball, Four Square and Tetherball.
King-of-the-Mountain on jungle gyms shaped like domes.
Penny-drops from the horizontal bar.
Seeing who could swing the highest and jump the furthest.

And the woods were for…

Finding dead, smelly things to poke.
Finding living, smelly things to bring home.
Short-cutting to a friend’s house, school, or the dime store.
Hiding out from a disgruntled parent or sibling.
Scoping out sledding hills.
Traversing log bridges, climbing trees, building forts and swinging from branches.
Being alone with your first girl/boyfriend.
Sipping your first beer and smoking your first cigarette – and throwing up.

Before pagers and cell phones, I remember….

Moms whistling or yelling for their kid to come home.
When, “But Mom! There was no phone!” was a legitimate excuse.
NETWORK meant a collection of neighborhood mothers that could identify which kids were where, and exactly what they were doing – scary!
Believing your mom would agree with you when said that the street lights must be broken because they came on late.
Passing notes in class.
The school bathroom being a core social center.

Before HIV, flesh-eating bacteria and e-coli in the news, I remember…

The worst thing you could get from the opposite sex was cooties (and mono).
Sharing ice cream with the dog and your best friend.
Cereal and Cracker Jacks with cool prizes at the bottom.
When your parents took you to McDonalds and you were COOL.

Before drive-bys, home invasions and child protective services in the media, I remember…

When ANY parent could discipline ANY kid, or feed him, or use him to carry groceries - And nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it.
Water balloons and snowballs with ice cores were the ultimate weapons.
Getting your ass whooped meant you deserved it and that your parents loved you.
Sleeping with the windows and doors open.
Running into a friends house without knocking.
RACE ISSUES meant arguing about who ran the fastest.

Before the endless technological diversions, summer was for…

Pulling the glow-goo out of fireflies.
Sand in your crack.
Swigs from the hose.
Sprinklers, fire hydrants, the local lake and the neighbor’s pool.
Sweating in bed with the window open, listening to crickets
Kool-Aid, Fla-Vor-Ice, the Good Humor Truck, Mr. Softie, and ice pops you could break in two and share with a friend.
Seeing shapes in the clouds and millions of mosquito bites.

Fall was for…

New clothes someone else picked out and paid for.
Raking leaves just to jump in them.
Seeing “who you got”.
Monday Night Football.
Deciding what to wear for Halloween - a major decision.
Your stinky aunt and cousins at Thanksgiving.
Pouring over store catalogs and making wish-lists.

And winter was for…

Waking up to a foot of snow – which proved the existence of god.
Witnessing the miracle of some kid smacking head-first into the tree at the bottom of the sledding hill and surviving.
Writing your name in the snow.
Swearing to your mother that you weren’t cold even though your hat had turned into an ice helmet.

Before I grew up and took this lousy job, I remember…

WORK meant taking out the trash or doing the dishes.
When a quarter seemed like a fair allowance - and another quarter a MIRACLE.
Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in Monopoly.
Decisions were made by going "eeny-meeny-miney-mo".
Mistakes could be corrected by simply yelling, “DO OVER!!!”.
Being tired from PLAYING.
Being old, referred to anyone over 20 ( I'm officially old!).

*by WCDogg, Headset Suicide

The Night Before Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas, He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house, Made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney, With presents to give,
And to see just who, In this home did live.

I looked all about, A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, Not even a tree.

No stocking by the mantle, Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures, Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought, Came through my mind.

For this house was different, It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier, Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, Silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor, In this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle, The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured, A Canadian soldier.

Was this the hero,Of whom I'd just read?,
Curled up on a poncho, The floor for a bed?

I realized the families, That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers, Who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world, The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate, A bright Christmas Day.

They all enjoyed freedom, Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers, Like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder, How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve, In a land far from home.

The very thought brought A tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees, And started to cry.

The soldier awakened, And I heard a rough voice,
'Santa, don't cry. This life is my choice.

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
My life is my God, My country, my corps.'

The soldier rolled over, And drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours, So silent and still,
And we both shivered, From the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave, On that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor, So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over, With a voice, soft and pure,
Whispered, 'Carry on Santa, It's Christmas Day, all is secure.'

One look at my watch, And I knew he was right,
'Merry Christmas my friend, And to all a good night.'

This poem was written by a peace keeping soldier stationed overseas. The following is his request, I think it is reasonable.


PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of forwarding this post to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our Canadian service men and women for our being able to celebrate these Festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make People stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

THE BIG RED STORE

Christmas is coming, Retail 's doing okay
For I joined the horde of shoppers
In the big, red store today
As I grabbed a trolley and sped off down the aisle
The blow up Christmas reindeer couldn't make me smile
'DON'T WORRY BE HAPPY'
I had a sinful wish
'I'd really like to punch that singing rubber fish!'

'Dad I want a Pokemon, like all the kids at school'
Having lots of plastic cards
Makes him look so cool
'Mum I want a Barbie house, it simply isn't fair'
'Santa didn't bring that much to our house last year'

Oh, the sights and sounds of Christmas
You'll experience at the store
But it's all artificial, nothings real any more

The Christmas tree is PVC, it's made in Singapore
There's even a matching plastic wreath
To hang on your front door

Nowhere was a manger scene on prominent display
To remind us of the meaning of this very special day
There were lots of jolly santas stacked high on every row
The loudspeaker bellowed
'ONLY 10 DAYS TO GO!'

The enticement to spend and spend some more
'Don't have money?'
'That's what credit is for!'
People in debt and suffering stress
Was it really Christmas that caused their distress?

Christmas traditions are now used as a ploy
To get you to buy the latest toy

St Nicholas was a saint with a heart for the poor
People don't talk about him any more
He's now known as 'Santa'
He's been hijacked to sell
On the books at Apple
And loved by Mattel
Down at Harvey Norman he can really draw a crowd
He's good at selling Christmas spirit
Does Liquor King proud

A plastic man- made Christmas
Commercial through and through
But have you ever thought what Christmas means to you?

To me, it means a Saviour sent from God above
Into a dying, desperate world to show them of His Love
Hope, Joy and Peace can be ours to receive
All He asks is that we truly believe

And I believe in Jesus, the Son of God Most High
I think of how He's blessed me
As Christmas time draws nigh
Each Christmas, my gratitude to God I express...
By using my gifts and talents to bless

Opening my home, I fulfill my desire
To reach out to others and hopefully inspire!
So celebrate Christmas and show that you care
About this special time of the year

Take your children to choose a tree
Bake festive goodies for afternoon tea
Decorate your home - now here's my advice
Lose the tinsel, it isn't that nice!
The best decorations I'm sure you'll agree
Are those made by nature - what's more, they're free!

So if your home is looking stark
Collect some pine cones from your local park
And if you're feeling really bold
You could even spray them gold!

Resist the urge to buy gifts to impress
Instead look for ways in which you can bless
You family and friends, the people you meet
The elderly neighbours who live on your street

You could give them something - perhaps made by you
Something you baked, crafted or grew

Would you open your home on Christmas day?
Invite someone on their own to stay
To be part of your family and share your meal
These kind of gestures make Christmas real

In spreading goodwill, we can all play a part
For the actions of people reveal their true heart

But in the big, red store, the queue's to the door
Where they fought over Teletubbies, it was shown on TV
On the six o'clock news for the nation to see

But we can choose a better way and redeem Christmas Day
By rejecting the hype and pressure to spend
What kind of message could we send?
For the stores don't own Christmas
It's ours to enjoy!
And to remember the birth of a baby boy
Named JESUS and He's still the REASON why we celebrate the SEASON!

Penned in December 2000
by Ann at eightacresofeden and christmasateden

Truisms

1. Jesse Jackson, Jim Baker and Jimmy Swaggert have written an impressive new book. It's called "Ministers Do More Than Lay People."

2. I hate sex in the movies. Tried it once. The seat folded up, the drink spilled and that ice, well, it really chilled the mood.

3. It used to be only death and taxes were inevitable. Now, of course, there's shipping and handling, too.

4. A husband is someone who, after taking the trash out, gives the impression that he just cleaned the whole house.

5. My next house wil l have no kitchen - just vending machines and a large trash can.

6. A blonde said, "I was worried that my mechanic might try to rip me off. I was relieved when he told me all I needed was turn signal fluid."

7. I'm so depressed. My doctor refused to write me a prescription for Viagra. He said it would be like putting a new flagpole on a condemned building.

8. My neighbor was bitten by a stray rabid dog. I went to see how he was and found him writing frantically on a piece of paper. I told him rabies could be cured and he didn't have to worry about a Will. He said, "Will? What Will? I'm making a list of the people I want to bite!"

9. Definition of a teenager? God's punishment for having sex.

10. As we slide down the banister of life, may the splinters never point the wrong way.

11. When I was young we used to go "skinny dipping," now I just "chunky dunk."

12. The early bird still has to eat worms.

13. The worst thing about accidents in the kitchen is eating them.

14. Don't argue with an idiot; people watching may not be able to tell the difference.

15. Wouldn't it be nice if whenever we messed up our life we could simply press 'Ctrl Alt Delete' and start all over?

16. Why is it that our children can't read a Bible in school, but they can in prison?

17. Brain cells come and brain cells go, but fat cells live forever.

Fido Dido - The Mind Reader

Click here.

I measure every grief

I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled--
Some thousands--on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.

The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies,--
Death is but one and comes but once
And only nails the eyes.

There's grief of want, and grief of cold,--
A sort they call 'despair,'
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross
Of those that stand alone
Still fascinated to presume
That some are like my own.

--Emily Dickinson