I'm not accusing anyone, but I think a person has a much more legitimate cause for complaint if he or she is actively trying to help the situation firsthand. Numerous churches throughout the southern US are sending buses with supplies, bringing back refugees. Help is needed in all towns sorting clothes and preparing shelters/food for the people coming. We can all do things to help. Now is not the time to be bitching and moaning, now is the time for action. When everyone is safe and accounted for, then we can begin bitching and moaning. My $.02 ladies and gentlemen.
John Doe
JoinedPosts by John Doe
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40
the idiot mayor of New Orleans
by MegaDude in.
why weren't these buses deployed before the hurricane hit?.
http://news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/050901/480/flpc21109012015
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John Doe
Lack of better judgment. :)
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What Would You Risk Your Life Over?
by Mecurious? ini see people doing stupid things that involve risking their life for jobs that don't even pay that much or some other sillines, like not giving up a car to an armed robber.. relate incidents where this has happened and name some things that you'd risk life and limb over.. m'.
be creative!
cuz, there are a few that bear mentioning!.
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John Doe
This is an ambiguous question to answer. After all, not a soul among us doesn’t risk his or her with every waking hour. As mortals, our lives are constantly at risk—the burger we just ate may contain mad cow, the auto we just stepped into may prove fatal, an unforeseen aneurism may whisk us away like a gust of wind, etc. etc etc.. Taking risks, therefore, is inherently a matter of degree.
And then, how can we conclude that someone standing up to an armed robber is risking his life for something silly? Can deeply-rooted, honest principles be silly? Folding, with death at the table, may reveal that we didn’t hold our principles to be as important as we thought.
What about recreational life endangerment—bungee jumping, sky diving, base jumping, speeding, etc. Something about self-endangerment naturally draws our interests, elevates our pulse, makes our soul tingle with the rush of being alive and on the edge.
To answer your question, I don’t know how to define what I will risk my life for. I risk it with every waking moment, and I live. Risk is inherent within me, and I play the cards I’m dealt. When death calls, there’ll be a big jackpot for the winner.
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Murphy's law anyone?
by JH inwho would like to add their murphy's law here.. i'll start.
put your brand new car in your parents garage, so that it will stay clean, but when you come back and look at the car in the morning, there's bird sh*t on it.
yeah, a stupid bird was trapped in the garage all night, and the damn thing sh*t on my brand new car..
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John Doe
A good-looking woman is flirting with you, and you later realize either:- Your fly is undone
- You have toilet paper attached to the bottom of your shoe
- You're wearing your patent "I'm an idiot" grin
- You have a big smudge of black grease on your cheek
which accounts for her smug laughter as she walked away.
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Men are more intelligent than women.
by PaulJ inmen are more intelligent than women.
(link).
discuss.
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John Doe
http://www.wilderdom.com/personality/intelligenceCulturalBias.html
This site has some good info on bias.
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Twisted Kippers
by BrendaCloutier ini had a most bizaar dream early this morning:.
i was out shopping at a salvation army and other christian based thriftstores that jw's aren't supposed to shop at, in this thrift store mall, with my ex-sister-in-law, whom i haven't seen in almost 20 years, and my nephew, whom i haven't seen in 30 years.
it's almost 8pm and so i call home and tell kevan i'm still out shopping.
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John Doe
From the title, I figured this thread was about underwear riding up. I've never heard the term "kippers" before. :-) John
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Men are more intelligent than women.
by PaulJ inmen are more intelligent than women.
(link).
discuss.
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John Doe
Ohhh, yuz iz trying to speak proper like now I see. Don't mock me woman!! :-)
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Men are more intelligent than women.
by PaulJ inmen are more intelligent than women.
(link).
discuss.
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John Doe
Talesin, don't you know that us men are lots smarter than you wimmens. Wimmen's place is in the home, breeden and cleanen. Leave the real work to the men, and don't worry your perty little head with all that man bizness.
Don't you talk 'bout nurtren boys nun neither. If'n you don't pop that titay out his mouth and teach 'im to be man, nex thang ya know he'll be packing fudge in the local res stop. Heben knows that's the last gush derned thang we need.
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What's the hardest thing you ever had to do?
by Country Girl ini think the hardest thing i ever went through was my divorce.
it was something i knew i needed to go through, and get over, but it was the hardest thing of my life.
i wanted the divorce, but it was so very painful.... what's the hardest thing you've ever gone through?
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John Doe
The hardest thing I've gone through was watching my mother die an excruciating death from colon cancer.Mom lived for a year after she was diagnosed. I remember the 80 mile round trips everyday for radiation. I remember the helpless hope that the first round would get the malignant growth that her colonoscopy didn't. I remember the two week sessions in the hospital, with mom throwing up constantly and being too sick to eat. I remember her pain as time wore on and she began to get growths in her bones and liver as the ravaging pain spread.
I remember the last time I saw her lucent, she looked up at me from her hospital bed with her soft blue eyes and said we need to talk about what we're going to do with dad. I told her "Don't worry about that mom, we're going to take care of him," and I could see the visible relief on her face, as she let go of her great self-imposed responsiblity. Her deathbed, and she was still worried about others. . .Sometimes I still dream about the pain of heart as the water slowly rolled off my cheeks and I told her that I loved her. She squeezed my hand and replied in kind, then rolled over to rest from while the powerful morphine held her sickness at bay temporarily.
I remember her aching pain during the last months, how she'd cry in the middle of the night and take hot showers to try to ease the pain of the growths that were tearing her insides up. I remember how I hated myself for not getting her to get a colonoscopy a few years sooner--it would have saved her. She lived in a run-down trailer, a product of taking care of my permanently brain-injured dad, poor. The whole in the roof in the heater room would fill five gallon bucket fuls in five minutes whenever it rained.
I remember her last trip home from the hospital--out of her mind from the liver failure that signalled the end was near. Leading her to her bed with her wailing and delirious. Giving her morphine pills around the clock for 4 days, until her parched lips and tongue were too swollen to take anymore, and we got a liquid dropper. Seeing her get to the point a day later where even the liquid would not go down, and she was through talking. Bringing her grandkids in on the final night, and her grasping and hugging them, even though she couldn't talk. Trying to help her lay in a position where it didn't hurt so much, running out of those positions.
I'm still haunted by that night. I had been up for 3 days, exhausted I went to sleep. At 1:30 in the morning, brother's words awakening me with "Mom's dead." I awakened, and the power had gone out on that July night. There had been no storm the previous week, but as the power went off in the middle of the summer--something that rarely happens, the lights were out, and mom died, the thunder boomed and lighting tore, and the rain poored through the holes in the roof. Yes, mom was gone.
We were broke, the funeral home guy who came out cut cost by coming by himself. I didn't know if I could bear to see her carried out, yet I found myself harnessed with the task of rolling and lifting her onto the stretcher, and carrying her out to the truck. I had this horrible thought of dead animal carcusses in my head as I grasped my side of the sheet and lifted, and my knees were rubbery. I worked like a machine, as if I were separate from my conscious, no tears. But, as I watched the taillights fade away and felt the cool rain and thunder, I turned and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door. I cried as hard as I've ever cried in my life, unconsolable for 15 minutes. I kept hearing in my head her painful cry the day before to let her die, she was in such pain. I don't remember much else about that night.
I went to her funeral, and the jw's who kept coming up and saying "We'll see her again, it's only a little while" had no idea how their words tore at my heart, for I no longer believed. I stared at her lying in that casket, feeling guilty for all my inadequacies and mistakes, but I never shed a tear. No, my crying was over. I didn't shed a tear for a long time after that. I was dazed, like I'd had a big shot of novocain in my heart. But I'll always miss her.
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Men are more intelligent than women.
by PaulJ inmen are more intelligent than women.
(link).
discuss.
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John Doe
This is a completely fruitless debate. All I will add is this: I've never met a man that could compare with this gal: