Saturday, July 25, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
The Priests bathtime
Funny joke from adulthilarity.
It was time for Father John’s Saturday night bath and the young nun, Sister Magdalene, had prepared the bath water and towels just the way the old nun had instructed.
Sister Magdalene was also instructed not to look at Father John’s nakedness if she could help it, do whatever he told her to do, and pray.
The next morning the old nun asked Sister Magdalene how the Saturday night bath had gone.
“Oh, sister,” said the young nun dreamily, “I’ve been Saved.”
“Saved? And how did that come about?” asked the old nun.
“Well, when Father John was soaking in the tub, he asked me to wash him, and while I was washing him he guided my hand down between his legs where he said the Lord keeps the Key to Heaven.”
“Did he?” said the old nun curiously.
Sister Magdalene continued, “And Father John said that if The Key to Heaven fits my lock, the portals of Heaven would be opened to me and I would be assured salvation and eternal peace. And then, Father John guided his Key to Heaven into my lock.”
“Is that a fact?” said the old nun even more curiously.
“At first it hurt terribly, but Father John said the pathway to salvation was often painful and that the glory of God would soon swell my Heart with ecstasy. And it did, it felt so good being saved.”
“That wicked old bastard” said the old nun. ”He told me it was Gabriel’s Horn and I’ve been blowing it for 40 years.”
It was time for Father John’s Saturday night bath and the young nun, Sister Magdalene, had prepared the bath water and towels just the way the old nun had instructed.
Sister Magdalene was also instructed not to look at Father John’s nakedness if she could help it, do whatever he told her to do, and pray.
The next morning the old nun asked Sister Magdalene how the Saturday night bath had gone.
“Oh, sister,” said the young nun dreamily, “I’ve been Saved.”
“Saved? And how did that come about?” asked the old nun.
“Well, when Father John was soaking in the tub, he asked me to wash him, and while I was washing him he guided my hand down between his legs where he said the Lord keeps the Key to Heaven.”
“Did he?” said the old nun curiously.
Sister Magdalene continued, “And Father John said that if The Key to Heaven fits my lock, the portals of Heaven would be opened to me and I would be assured salvation and eternal peace. And then, Father John guided his Key to Heaven into my lock.”
“Is that a fact?” said the old nun even more curiously.
“At first it hurt terribly, but Father John said the pathway to salvation was often painful and that the glory of God would soon swell my Heart with ecstasy. And it did, it felt so good being saved.”
“That wicked old bastard” said the old nun. ”He told me it was Gabriel’s Horn and I’ve been blowing it for 40 years.”
Monday, July 20, 2009
Weirdos on public transport story
Forget the twitching schizophrenic mumbling to himself on the back seat of the bus. There's now something much, much more scary about to jump on your train in the tube during rush hour.
Guerrilla knitters. Apparently this is not a Monty Python sketch. Nor is it 1st April. I've checked.
I can think of many reasons for refusing to relocate to London. This is just one more to add to an already long list. And it's another very good reason for not using public transport. I'll stick to my car thank you very much.
I suppose we should dub them the YRA - the Yarn Republican Army.
Guerrilla knitters. Apparently this is not a Monty Python sketch. Nor is it 1st April. I've checked.
I can think of many reasons for refusing to relocate to London. This is just one more to add to an already long list. And it's another very good reason for not using public transport. I'll stick to my car thank you very much.
I suppose we should dub them the YRA - the Yarn Republican Army.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
i thik i've made one of the biggest decision in my life today. maybe it's true when people said that growing up is all about making decisions. i won't write anything here. let the words spread by itself. now i know i am a very strong person.
anyways. i went out with tak kin earlier. went to silva. had a loooooong talk. tak kin always have the right thing to say. i don't know why.
after that, i went out with hafiz. went to starbucks and chat. that's about it.
i have class at 0800. i really have to get some sleep.
oh yeah, the proposal is done. i am so relieved!
anyways. i went out with tak kin earlier. went to silva. had a loooooong talk. tak kin always have the right thing to say. i don't know why.
after that, i went out with hafiz. went to starbucks and chat. that's about it.
i have class at 0800. i really have to get some sleep.
oh yeah, the proposal is done. i am so relieved!
The White House Fence
Three contractors are bidding to fix a broken fence at the White House.
One is from Chicago, another is from Tennessee, and the third is from Minnesota.
All three go with a White House official to examine the fence.
The Minnesota contractor takes out a tape measure and does some measuring, then works some figures with a pencil.
"Well," he says, "I figure the job will run about $900: $400 for materials, $400 for my crew and $100 profit for me."
The Tennessee contractor also does some measuring and figuring, then says, "I can do this job for $700: $300 for materials, $300 for my crew and $100 profit for me."
The Chicago contractor doesn't measure or figure, but leans over to the White House official and whispers, "$2,700."
The official, incredulous, says, "You didn't even measure like the other guys! How did you come up with such a high figure?"
The Chicago contractor whispers back, "$1000 for me, $1000 for you, and we hire the guy from Tennessee to fix the fence."
"Done!" replies the government official. And that, my friends, is the Chicago way.
One is from Chicago, another is from Tennessee, and the third is from Minnesota.
All three go with a White House official to examine the fence.
The Minnesota contractor takes out a tape measure and does some measuring, then works some figures with a pencil.
"Well," he says, "I figure the job will run about $900: $400 for materials, $400 for my crew and $100 profit for me."
The Tennessee contractor also does some measuring and figuring, then says, "I can do this job for $700: $300 for materials, $300 for my crew and $100 profit for me."
The Chicago contractor doesn't measure or figure, but leans over to the White House official and whispers, "$2,700."
The official, incredulous, says, "You didn't even measure like the other guys! How did you come up with such a high figure?"
The Chicago contractor whispers back, "$1000 for me, $1000 for you, and we hire the guy from Tennessee to fix the fence."
"Done!" replies the government official. And that, my friends, is the Chicago way.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
No brag, just fact
In every company I have worked for since graduating college in 1980, I have had to fill out annual or bi-annual performance reviews. Now, I understand that there has to be a way of measuring progress, and back in the days when we actually got raises, there was even some motivation for doing this. However, in this time of great economic boom for the rich under the Shrub, and the time of 0-1% raises for us middle class white collar working stiffs, there just doesn't seem to be a real motivation for me to remember everything I have done for the past year.
First, how am I supposed to remember everything I did right over a whole year. I would have had to spend most of my time writing things down instead of actually working. And it takes a week or more to go through all my old notes just to determine what I did. Aren't released products and met schedules enough to satisfy management?
My boss said, when asked why we had to do this: "The forms are a pain, but they make it easier for management to review set of reviews more quickly. I need your input by the end of today."
For that matter, remembering tends to make me angry when I realize that I will, like most of the rest of the engineers in the company, get a 1% raise. I put in a lot of work, a lot of hours and a lot of my emotion into my project. That should be reward enough I suppose, if my job were one I loved. However, I do admit I work for the money, and programming computers pays too well. Raising and supporting children certainly changed my perspective on how much bullcrap I would put up with in order to keep a job.
Well, all of that said, and I still have a performance review to get to my boss by the end of the day...
First, how am I supposed to remember everything I did right over a whole year. I would have had to spend most of my time writing things down instead of actually working. And it takes a week or more to go through all my old notes just to determine what I did. Aren't released products and met schedules enough to satisfy management?
My boss said, when asked why we had to do this: "The forms are a pain, but they make it easier for management to review set of reviews more quickly. I need your input by the end of today."
For that matter, remembering tends to make me angry when I realize that I will, like most of the rest of the engineers in the company, get a 1% raise. I put in a lot of work, a lot of hours and a lot of my emotion into my project. That should be reward enough I suppose, if my job were one I loved. However, I do admit I work for the money, and programming computers pays too well. Raising and supporting children certainly changed my perspective on how much bullcrap I would put up with in order to keep a job.
Well, all of that said, and I still have a performance review to get to my boss by the end of the day...
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