A Christmas Fancy « Result #1 on Mar 11, 2009, 8:50pm »
Early on Christmas Day, Love, as awake I lay, And heard the Christmas bells ring sweet and clearly, My heart stole through the gloom Into your silent room, And whispered to your heart, `I love you dearly.' There, in the dark profound, Your heart was sleeping sound, And dreaming some fair dream of summer weather. At my heart's word it woke, And, ere the morning broke, They sang a Christmas carol both together. Glory to God on high! Stars of the morning sky, Sing as ye sang upon the first creation, When all the Sons of God Shouted for joy abroad, And earth was laid upon a sure foundation. Glory to God again! Peace and goodwill to men, And kindly feeling all the wide world over, Where friends with joy and mirth Meet round the Christmas hearth, Or dreams of home the solitary rover. Glory to God! True hearts, Lo, now the dark departs, And morning on the snow-clad hills grows grey. Oh, may love's dawning light Kindled from loveless night, Shine more and more unto the perfect day! by Robert Fuller Murray
The Girl of My Dream « Result #2 on Mar 11, 2009, 8:50pm »
The girl of my dream Have blue sparkling eyes When I look into em, I feel like I'm drowning inside Her fair skins are smooth like milk, When she soothes lotions all over em, It tingles me inside Her hairs are soft as silk, When I brush my hands through them I recognize the fragrance of a Love Spell. A spell so strong, a love so quick, A heart was taken, a gift was sent, An angel from heaven came down to me, On the first day of December, Filling my Christmas with love and joy Her every movement so elegant, Her every blush so heartening, Her smiles, her smirks, Like lava of a volcano, Melts me down so thoroughly from the inside Her voice resounds through my body Like a lullaby, she sings me to sleep The girl of my dream Samantha Sue Coop Escudero You are so beautiful
For You I Wish « Result #3 on Mar 11, 2009, 8:50pm »
I have looked at Christmas: holly red Secret Santa: rich pudding-fed: Standing with my eyes shut, on tip toe I’ve stood hopefully under mistletoe. Now, like scrooge, I look at the season new I smile less and party with few And all the words of love now lie Mock silently, ruffle and die. I have looked at Christmas from both sides now From happy and sad and still somehow It’s not the season that I see It’s my own candied fantasy. But for you I wish the happy red show, Stockings filled with family galore; Soul food cooked in kitchens known And sleep that is sound in a bed at home. Because the spirit is not in wishing for ones self you see, And the dreams and the hopes are for your fantasy So I wish you this Christmas old love anew And silent wishes that will do come true.
Suspicious Mother « Result #4 on Mar 11, 2009, 8:46pm »
Brian invited his mother over for dinner. During the course of the meal, Brian's mother couldn't help but keep noticing how beautiful Brian's roommate, Stephanie, was.
Brian's Mom had long been suspicious of a relationship between Brian and Stephanie, and this had only made her more curious. Over the course of the evening, while watching the two react, she started to wonder if there was more between Brian and Stephanie than met the eye. Reading his mom's thoughts, Brian volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you Stephanie and I are just roommates."
About a week later, Stephanie came to Brian saying, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the beautiful silver gravy ladle. You don't suppose she took it, do you?" Brian said, "Well, I doubt it, but I'll send her an e-mail just to be sure". So he sat down and wrote:
"Dear Mom: I'm not saying that you "did" take the gravy ladle from the house; I'm not saying that you "did not" take the gravy ladle. But the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for
dinner. Love, Brian".
Several days later, Brian received an email back from his mother that read:
"Dear Son: I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Stephanie; I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with Stephanie. But the fact remains that if Stephanie is sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now. Love, Mom."
Aunt Karens Moral « Result #5 on Mar 11, 2009, 8:46pm »
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment... Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it.
The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories.
Ashley said, "My father's a farmer and we have a lot of egg-laying hens.
One time we were taking our eggs to market in a basket on the front seat of the car when we hit a big bump in the road and all the eggs went flying and broke and made a mess."
"What's the moral of the story?" asked the teacher.
"Don't put all your eggs in one basket!"
"Very good," said the teacher.
Next little Sarah raised her hand and said, "Our family are farmers too. But we raise chickens for the meat market.
We had a dozen eggs one time, but when they hatched we only got ten live chicks, and the moral to this story is, "don't count your chickens before they're hatched."
"That was a fine story Sarah. Michael, do you have a story to share?"
"Yes, my daddy told me this story about my Aunt Karen.
Aunt Karen was a flight engineer in the Gulf War and her plane was hit.
She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a bottle of whisky, a machine gun and a machete.
She drank the whisky on the way down so it wouldn't break and then she landed right in the middle of 100 enemy troops.
She killed seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out of bullets.
Then she killed twenty more with the machete until the blade broke. Then she killed the last ten with her bare hands."
"Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "what kind of moral did your daddy tell you from that horrible story?"
"Stay the f#ck away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking"
Reproducing Bull « Result #6 on Mar 11, 2009, 8:46pm »
A couple goes to an agricultural show way out in the countryside on a fine Sunday afternoon, and are watching the auctioning off of reproduction bulls. The guy selling the bulls announces the first bull to be auctioned off: "A fine specimen, this bull reproduced 60 times last year."
The wife nudges her husband in the ribs, and comments: "See! That was more
than 5 times a month!"
The second bull is to be sold: "Another fine specimen, this wonder reproduced 120 times last year."
Again the wife bugs her husband: "Hey, that's some 10 times a month. What do
YOU say to that?!"
Her husband is getting really annoyed with this comparison... The third bull is up for sale: "And this extraordinary specimen reproduced 360 times last year!"
The wife slaps her husband on the arm and yells: "That's once a day, every day of the year! How about YOU?!"
The husband was pretty irritated by now, and yells back: "Sure, once a day! But
ask the announcer if they were all with the same cow!!!"
Watching Me Go « Result #7 on Feb 23, 2009, 4:16am »
The crayoned picture shows a first-grade boy with shoebox arms, stovepipe legs and tears squirting like melon seeds.wow power leveling, The carefully printed caption reads, "I am so sad." It is my son Brendan's drawing-journal entry for September 19. Brendan cried his first day of school, dissolving at his classroom door like a human bouillon cube. wow power leveling,The classroom jiggled with small faces, wet-combed hair, white Nikes and new backpacks. Something furry scuttled around in a big wire cage. Garden flowers rested on Mrs. Phillips's desk. Mrs. Phillips has halo status at our school. She is a kind, soft-spoken master of the six-year-old mind. But even she could not coax Brendan to a seat. Most kids sat eagerly awaiting thingy and Jane and two plus two. Not my Brendan. His eyes streamed, his nose ran and he clung to me like a snail on a strawberry. I plucked him off and escaped. It wasn't that Brendan didn't like school. He was the kid at the preschool Christmas concert who knew everyone's part and who performed "Jingle Bells" with operatic passion. Brendan just didn't like being apart from me. wow power leveling,We'd had some good times, he and I, in those preschool years. We played at the pool. We skated on quiet morning ice. We sampled half the treat tray at weekly neighbourhood coffee parties. Our time together wasn't exactly material for a picture book, but it was time together. And time moves differently for a child. Now in Grade 1, Brendan was faced with five hours of wondering what I was doing with my day. wow gold,Brendan always came home for lunch, the only one of his class not to eat at his desk. But once home, fed and hugged, a far-away look of longing would crease his gentle brow--he wanted to go back to school to play! So I walked him back, waited with him until he spotted someone he knew, then left. He told me once that he watched me until he couldn't see me anymore, so I always walked fast and never looked back. One day when I took Brendan back after lunch, he spied a friend, kissed me goodbye, and scampered right off. I went, feeling pleased for him, celebrating his new independence, his entry into the first-grade social loop. And I felt pleased for myself, a sense of well-being and accomplishment that I, too, had entered the mystic circle of parents whose children separated easily.
Then--I don't know why--I glanced back. And there he was.wow gold, The playground buzzed all around him, kids everywhere, and he stood, his chin tucked close, his body held small, his face intent but not sad, blowing me kisses. So brave, so unashamed, so completely loving, Brendan was watching me go.
No book on mothering could have prepared me for that quick, raw glimpse into my child's soul. My mind leaped 15 years ahead to him packing boxes and his dog grown old and him saying, "Dry up, Mom. It's not like I'm leaving the country." In my mind I tore up the card every mother signs saying she'll let her child go when he's ready. I looked
at my Brendan, wow gold,his shirt tucked in, every button done up, his toes just turned in a bit, and I though, "OK, you're six for me forever. Just try to grow up, I dare you." With a smile I had to really dig for, I blew him a kiss, turned and walked away.
These Things I Wish for You « Result #8 on Feb 23, 2009, 4:16am »
We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I’d know better.
I’d really like for them to know about hand-me-down clothes and home-made ice cream and leftover meatloaf. I really would.
My cherished grandson,wow power leveling I hope you learn humility by surviving failure and that you learn to be honest even when no one is looking.
I hope you learn to make your bed and mow the lawn and wash the car -- and I hope nobody gives you a brand-new car when you are sixteen.
It will be good if at least one time you can see a baby calf born, and you have a good friend to be with you if you ever have to put your old dog to sleep.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.
I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother.wow power leveling And it is all right to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he’s scared, I hope you’ll let him.
And when you want to see a Disney movie and your kid brother wants to tag along, I hope you take him.
I hope you have to walk uphill with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
If you want a slingshot,wow power leveling I hope your father teaches you how to make one instead of buying one. I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books, and when you learn to use computers, you also learn how to add and subtract in your head.
I hope you get razzed by friends when you have your first crush on a girl, and that when you talk back to your mother you learn what Ivory soap tastes like.
May you skin your knee climbing a mountain,wow gold burn your hand on the stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.
I hope you get sick when someone blows smoke in your face. I don’t care if you try beer once, but I hope you won’t like it.wow gold And if a friend offers you a joint or any drugs, I hope you are smart enough to realize that person is not your friend.
I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your grandpa or go fishing with your uncle.
I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through a neighbor’s window,wow gold and that she hugs you and kisses you when you give her a plaster of paris mold of your hand.
These things I wish for you -- tough times and disappointment, hard work and happiness.
The Easter Bunny « Result #9 on Feb 23, 2009, 4:16am »
When I was a little girl, every Sunday my family of six would put on their best clothes and go to Sunday School and then church. The kids in elementary school would all meet together to sing songs, and then later divide into groups based on their ages.
One Easter Sunday,wow power leveling all the kids arrived with big eyes and big stories about what the Easter Bunny had brought. While all of the kids shared their stories with delight, one young boy, whom I will call Bobby, sat sullenly. One of the teachers, noticing this, said to him, wow gold "And what did the Easter Bunny bring you?" He replied, "My mom locked the door on accident so the Easter Bunny couldn't get inside."
This sounded like a reasonable idea to all of us kids,wow power leveling so we kept on going with the stories. My mom knew the true story, though. Bobby's mom was a single parent, and she suspected that they just couldn't afford the Easter Bunny.
After Sunday School was over, everyone went off to church. When my dad came to meet us my mom announced that we were going home instead. At home, wow power leveling she explained that to make Bobby feel better, we were going to pretend to be the Easter Bunny and make a basket of goodies for him and leave it at church. We all donated some of our candies to the basket, and headed back up to church. There,wow gold mom unzipped his coat, hung the basket over the hanger, and zipped up the coat and attached a note.
Dear Bobby, I'm sorry I missed your house last night.wow gold Happy Easter. Love, The Easter Bunny
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