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sugacane
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Posted: Fri Apr 29th, 2005 03:05 am |
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This joke originated from Pouderoyen Village which is close to Versailles estate.
A father and son from Depot Street were racing one another to tell lies. The father had the first say: (Depot St. is about half a mile from Versailles factory).
" Son, look at Versailles chimney and tell meh wha you see".
The boy looked and looked from different angles, shading his eyes from the sun, etc, but could not recognise anything different said,
" Daddy, meh look till meh eyeball ah bun but all meh see ah smoke!".
The father said, "Bai yuh nah see da sandfly pan de chimney tap?.
The boy replied, "Oh yes daddy, look he deh-deh, an he ah wink he eye at meh!!!"
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Jane
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Posted: Fri Apr 29th, 2005 08:29 pm |
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rememba Jahnny-Clyde ???? dis ah tru-tru story!
rememba he gat cak-eye? well he wife gat it too....wan day seh washing clothes by me aunty stand-pipe...
suh rain set up now..den start fuh drizzle from school side coming down..me cozin see de rain coming closer..suh she seh shout 'jessie...rain coming!..yuh wan fuh get wet or wha..lef de clothes and guh shelta"
Jessie halla back..."nah gyal!!! the rain de far yet" dis time the rain meet rite deh...
When Jessie feel the rain..she jump up and seh.." oh gawd gyal..u right.....me like me blind..me really tink de rain deh far yet"
Last edited on Fri Apr 29th, 2005 08:30 pm by |
Jane
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Posted: Fri Apr 29th, 2005 08:57 pm |
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meh fuget!!!
since me wid de jahnny-clyde stories...
leh me tellu a nadda wan....
suh now ayo kno both he andhe wife nah see prappaly...
and fuh ayu who nah bin know..we nah had electric light in leguan when me bin a guh school...
when people wake up early in marning fuh cook..yuh eida use gas lamp or wan lil lantern or de 'speak-easy ' lamp..dis ah wan lil lamp..most awe does keep dem in we room fuh sleep... the poorer folks used bottle lamp...( yuh just full kero in a dutchman bottle, roll up a piece ah bag fuh de wick, and push dah down in the neck of de bottle..when y soak , yuh light it...man dah bright fuh-so!!)
Okay..back to broda jahnny...and dis a wan tru story too..abul? VJ..ask me cousin dem..deolall, sam esp dem moda and sistas.....
Jessie does get up early in de marning fuh cook de food using she 'speak-easy' lamp.....and poh jahnny..eating he breakfast wid he lil light, before he guh to wok..
Suddenly Jahnny call out fuh jessie..."ah weh u get suh fat shrimps, gyal????"
To which Jessie replies.."me nah put none shrimps in the curry bai, ah bare seim curry meh cook and gie yuh" Jahnny spit out de food now,
suh she run wid the lil 'speak-easy' lamp fuh see wha Jahnny ah call shrimps:
To their utter amazement...was waan big grass-happer in de food!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
meh nah gat fuh tell yuh how Jahnny staat fuh cuss and behave bad dah marning
Last edited on Fri Apr 29th, 2005 08:59 pm by |
Jane
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Posted: Thu May 5th, 2005 08:16 pm |
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here r some church jokes ..got this from abook at a christian book store....
( not meant to offend anyone.....p.s i'm a born- again Christian! )
3-timer
Old Andy passed on..at the end of his church funeral, someone remarked, " As I recall, old Andy attended church only 3 times in his entire life....when he was hatched, when he was matched, and now, when dispatched!"
******
OLD AGE
At the church's Golden- Agers banquet, the following was shared by Sister B. She began her peice by saying, " you can tel you are getting older and heading toward the sweet by 'n by when..."
- u sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going
- u burn the midnite oil after 8 pm
- u look forward to a dull evening
- yr knees buckle but yr belt won't
- yr little black book contains only names ending with M.D.
- yr back goes out more than u do
- u decide to procrastinate and never get around to it
- dialinbg long distance wears u out
- u walk with yr held held high trying to get used to yr bi-focals
- u sink yr teeth into a steak. AND THEY STAY THERE!!!!
**********
time a-wastin'
A minister waited in line to have his car filled with gas b4 a long holiday weekend. The attendant worked quickly, but there were many cars in front and in back of him. Finally the attendant motioned him toward a vacant pump. "Rev.," said the young man, " sorry about the delay. It seems as if everyone waits until the last minute to get ready for a long trip."
The minister chuckled, " I know exactly what u mean. It's the same in my business."
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Jane
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Posted: Mon May 16th, 2005 05:58 pm |
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PUNCTUATION IS IMPORTANT!!!!!
A near-sighted minister glanced at a prayer request handed tohim by an usher during service.....
the note read:
"Bill having gone to sea, his wife desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety"
But the minister actually read this:
"Bill, having gone to see his wife, desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety"
=========================
BOARD CHAIR: Pastor, why did u fire the secretary?
PASTOR: She couldnt spell. She kept asking me how to spell every other word while she took dictation.
BOARD CHAIR: I suppose u couldnt stand the interruptions.
PASTOR: No, it wasnt that. I just didnt have the time to look up all those
words!
===================
Pastor: I need a secretary who can spell. Can u spell Mississippi???
Hopeful sect'y: The river or the state?????
==========================
Mower and Mower
A Pastor making visitation rounds on his bike, when he came upon a young boy trying to sell a lawn mower.
"How much do u want for it?" asked the Pastor.
I need just enough money to buy a bike," the boy explained. After a moment of thought, the preacher asked the boy if he would trade his bike for the mower. The young boy gladly agreed.
The preacher took the mower and began to crank it. He pulled on the cord a few times with no reaction from the machine. He called the boy over and said, " I cant get mower to start."
The little boy said, " My dad said u have to cuss at it to get it started."
The pastor replied, "I am a minister, and i dont cuss. I have been saved so long that I dont even remember how to cuss."
The little boy looked at him with a sparkle in his eye, " Just keep pulling on that cord ...it will definitely come back to u."
Last edited on Mon May 16th, 2005 08:46 pm by |
Jane
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Posted: Thu May 26th, 2005 06:27 pm |
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A friend sent this by email!!!
POLISH DIVORCE
A Polish man moved to the USA and married an American girl. Although his English was far from perfect, they got along very well until one day he rushed into a lawyer's office and asked him if he could arrange a divorce for him - "very quick." The lawyer said that the speed for getting a divorce would depend on the circumstances, and asked him the following questions:
LAWYER: "Have you any grounds?"
POLE: "JA, JA, acre and half and nice little home."
LAWYER: "No," I mean what is the foundation of this case?"
POLE: "It made of concrete."
LAWYER: "Does either of you have a real grudge?"
POLE: "No, w! e have carport, and not need one."
LAWYER: "I mean, What are your relations like?"
POLE: "All my relations still in Poland."
LAWYER: "Is there any infidelity in your mar! riage?"
POLE: "Ja, we have hi- fidelity stereo set and good DVD player."
LAWYER: Does your wife beat you up?"
POLE: "No, I always up before her."
LAWYER: "Is your wife a nagger?"
POLE: "No, she white."
LAWYER: "WHY do you want this divorce?"
POLE: "She going to kill me."
LAWYER: "What makes you think that?"
POLE: "I got proof.
LAWYER: "What kind of proof?"
POLE: "She going to poison me. She buy a bottle at drugstore and put on shelf in bathroom. I can read, and it say, 'Polish Remover'."
...
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Jane
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Posted: Sat Aug 27th, 2005 06:39 pm |
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here r some church jokes.....
WAKING UP FOR CHURCH
One Sunday morning, a mother went in to wake her
son and tell him it was time to get ready for church, to which he
replied, "I'm not going."
"Why not?" she asked.
I'll give you two good reasons," he said.
"One, they don't like me, and two, I don't like them."
His mother replied, "I'll give YOU two good reasons
why YOU SHOULD go to church.
(1) You're 59 years old,
and (2) you're the pastor!"
**************************
THE PICNIC
A Jewish Rabbi and a Catholic Priest met at the town's
annual 4th of July picnic. Old friends, they began their
usual banter.
"This baked ham is really delicious," the priest teased
the rabbi. "You really ought try it. I know it's against your
religion, but I can't understand why such a wonderful
food should be forbidden! You don't know what you're
missing. You just haven't lived until you've tried Mrs. Hall's
prized Virginia Baked Ham. Tell me, Rabbi, when are you
going to break down and try it?"
The rabbi looked at the priest with a big grin, and said,
"At your wedding."
**************************
THE USHER
An elderly woman walked into the local country church.
The friendly usher greeted her at the door and helped
her up the flight of steps.
"Where would you like to sit?" he asked politely.
"The front row please," she answered.
"You really don't want to do that," the usher said. "The
pastor is really boring."
"Do you happen to know who I am?" the woman inquired.
"No." he said.
"I'm the pastor's mother," she replied indignantly.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
"No." she said.
"Good," he answered.
**************************
SHOW AND TELL
A kindergarten teacher gave her class a "show and tell"
assignment. Each student was instructed to bring in an
object to share with the class that represented their religion.
The first student got up in front of the class and said, "My
name is Benjamin and I am Jewish and this is a Star of
David."
The second student got up in front of the class and said,
"My name is Mary. I'm a Catholic and this is a Rosary."
The third student got in up front of the class and said,
"My name is Tommy. I am Baptist, and this is a casserole."
**************************
THE BEST WAY TO PRAY
A priest, a minister and a guru sat discussing the best
positions for prayer, while a telephone repairman worked
nearby.
"Kneeling is definitely the best way to pray," the priest said.
"No," said the minister. "I get the best results standing with
my hands outstretched to Heaven."
"You're both wrong," the guru said. "The most effective
prayer position is lying down on the floor."
The repairman could contain himself no longer.
"Hey, fellas," he interrupted. "The best prayin' I ever did was
when I was hangin' upside down from a telephone pole."
**************************
THE TWENTY AND THE ONE
A well-worn one-dollar bill and a similarly distressed twenty-
dollar bill arrived at a Federal Reserve Bank to be retired.
As they moved along the conveyor belt to be burned, they
struck up a conversation.
The twenty-dollar bill reminisced about its travels all over
the country.
"I've had a pretty good life," the twenty proclaimed. "Why
I've been to Las Vegas and Atlantic City, the finest
restaurants in New York, performances on Broadway,
and even a cruise to the Caribbean."
"Wow!" said the one-dollar bill. "You've really had an
exciting life!"
"So tell me," says the twenty, "where have you been
throughout your lifetime?"
The one dollar bill replies, "Oh, I've been to the Methodist
Church, the Baptist Church, the Lutheran Church..."
The twenty-dollar bill interrupts: "What's a church?" 
**************************
GOAT FOR DINNER
The young couple invited their elderly pastor for Sunday
dinner. While they were in the kitchen preparing the meal, the
minister asked their son what they were having.
"Goat," the little boy replied.
"Goat?" replied the startled man of the cloth, "Are you sure
about that?"
"Yep," said the youngster. "I heard Dad say to Mom, 'Today
is just as good as any to have the old goat for dinner.
Last edited on Sun Aug 28th, 2005 03:43 pm by |
Jane
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Posted: Wed Sep 14th, 2005 09:35 pm |
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attenshan everybady!!!!
me kno dis ah joke section...suh ayo hear me out..
dis a wan BIG joke......fuh real real...hahahahaaaaaa
now me brodah ravi...
man , me wandah wha dis bai guh seh if 'e read abidees forum...lol
suh read on now...enjoy ayu self...laff til ayu belly bus!!!
is dis guy fuh real???
jane
========================================================
Don't report people's speech in Creolese
Monday, September 12th 2005
Dear Editor,
Can you publish a Guyanese creolese dictionary on your online edition so that people can understand the English your reporters use to quote what local people are saying?
The local Guyanese people your reporters interview are so ignorant you have to write their spoken oral creolese language, instead of write what they say in standard English. Well, I want to understand what they say.  
Do you weep on your knees in realization that the people who speak local creolese cannot even read creolese? Isn't creolese an oral language? Why do you insist on writing an oral language?
Why not leave this colourful side of Guyanese talk to the creative writers? Or are your reporters Dickensian novelists?
Your poor local readers have to contend with such nonsense as 1900 hrs instead of 7 p.m. Now they have to learn a whole new written language to read what your witnesses say.
Man, you guys really do insist on burdening the local people eh?
Poor Guyanese. How low will your standards fall? I know on TV half-wit announcers use creolese, but there it works, well, because it is an oral language! In a newspaper, we deal only with written English.
I am so thankful that England and the US and Canada and Australia and Barbados and Jamaica and T&T use standard English in their newspapers, instead of trying to write every pronunciation or grammatical or accent nuance of every community.
So if you cannot stick to standard English, please have a dictionary or glossary section to your newspaper so people can learn your new written language.
Also, can you publish a little booklet on how people can read those hours you publish? you know, like what is 2300 hrs, and 2200 hrs, and 1700 hrs? I know the education system is a failure, but please stick to English and leave the Math to the schools? Guyana has a history of how it tells time. And it has nothing to do with hours. It has a.m. and p.m..
But maybe your newspaper's vision statement mandates you to be a revolutionary?
Thank you very much. Just trying to help.
Yours faithfully,
........................
======================================
Editor's note
It is a surprise to hear that Mr xxxxxx cannot understand the reported creolese that all other Guyanese and many foreigners readily do. Quoted speech can be more authentic.
=============================================================
Some Guyanese who emigrate suppress their native culture
Wednesday, September 14th 2005
Dear Editor,
Indeed, what Mr xxxxxxxxx's letter captioned 'Don't report people's speech in Creolese' (12.9.05) demonstrates, as if further demonstrations were needed, is the intense internal struggle Guyanese sons and daughters are engaged in the world over but particularly in western metropoles, where it has become fad to suppress and ultimately annihilate that part of us that characterizes the epitome and embodiment of the Guyanese and West Indian spirit.
Trite but true, these immigrant sons and daughters dwell within Metropolitan shores burdened by the burning need to find acceptance in a world dominated by Caucasian mores and values, desperately clinging to the hope that one day they will become part of Americana and the American cultural and social fabric. Their dire need to find this acceptance is evident in everything that they say and do, just take a good look around, like V.S. Naipaul they aspire to become what they cannot nor will they ever be white.
In its entirety, it is in this vein that xxxxxxxx letter is written, reflecting an arrogant and high and mighty attitude that separates him from us. Having left his native Guyana perhaps years ago, he now curses with rank condescension the very land that once cradled and nurtured him and countless others.
Having left xxxxxxxxxxxxx now feels estranged from his 'roots' and has acquired a contemptuous disdain for the things that he once knew by heart and deed, including his native creolese tongue. xxxxxxxxxxx's feelings of inferiority have now with tortured time and a few US dollars in his suit pocket made him superior to the 'ignorant local Guyanese people.' He now feels a divine right to castigate the time worn customs and traditions conveyed in our dialect, which he himself once called his own given that, from his vantage point in the promised land, we in Guyana are all 'ignorant' and unworthy and or incapable of expressing ourselves in his adopted American tongue.
I was reminded of a book I read for CXC English Literature, The Wine of Astonishment, and the illustrious Dave Martins, a proud Caribbean son wherever he goes, who recorded 'Copycat,' which satirically transcribes the very attitudes displayed by people like the gentleman in question. It would seem West Indian people in general simply love to adopt other people's customs including their language as their own, shunning their own as not being good enough after a while.
In the Wine of Astonishment, one of the characters' son returns from abroad and upon visiting his father notices some crabs in a barrel out in the yard and immediately asks the question, in his adopted accent 'Dad, what are those thangs? Placing his right manicured hand in the barrel, one of the crabs delivers a bite that made him yell in full and colourful Caribbean splendour, the native tongue that he was superficially suppressing, 'Pa, de crab, de crab.'
And so it must unquestionably be with Mr. xxxxxxxxxxx, living a lie, he deludes himself by telling us that he doesn't understand the creolese accounts, which are reflected in some of your reports, even suggesting that you 'publish a Guyanese creolese dictionary on your online edition so that people can understand.' How laughable and frankly insipid, perhaps symptomatic of just how far removed from his origins he has become.
But is Mr. xxxxxxxxx really far removed from his humble origins and tongue that he now requires a creolese dictionary to understand the manner in which we speak. I think not. Instead, on a psychological plain, Mr.xxxxxxxxxxx I suspect is trying desperately hard to emasculate the essence and core of his being, his Guyanese identity, because his neo-colonial masters have taught him through several mediums but in particular the American media that Western culture is superior to all and therefore for you to find 'acceptance' you must embrace theirs and repudiate the one from whence you came.
Note the unkind appellations Mr. xxxxxxxxxxx uses to describe his native brothers and sisters, 'ignorant; half wit announcers; poor Guyanese and poor local readers,' they all point to his self righteous, know it all, seen it all, been there and done it all attitude, appointing himself as professor emeritus in journalistic standards because the by and large mostly Western newspapers he reads use standard English.
May I respectfully posit that what Mr. xxxxxxxxxxx needs is not a creolese dictionary but a few lessons in humility and respect. What Mr. xxxxxxxxx needs is to reacquaint himself with his humble beginnings, which prompts me to ask the question, when was the last time Mr. Samaroo come back 'home?'
When was the last time he called his grandparents? Do they speak the Queen's English, Mr. xxxxxxxxx?
I already know the answer to the last question, which brings me to my next question, are you ashamed when you speak to them? Knowing the answer to that question too, I finally ask, how much longer will you continue to be ashamed of yourself my brother ? Shame, shame, shame...
Yours faithfully,
...........................
regards,
=====================================================
i got this as an email..
but the letters r in stabroek news..chk archives ...12th & 14th sept.
jane
Last edited on Thu Sep 15th, 2005 02:09 pm by |
VJ
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Posted: Fri Sep 16th, 2005 04:59 pm |
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More!!!
Dark shadow over free flow of views
Please allow me space in your newspaper to comment on two letters that have appeared in the Chronicle and the Stabroek News this week. Both letters reflect a sad trend that snaked its way into the new culture of freedom of expression that the country is creating.
Like the lawlessness that passes for freedom of expression on those unprofessional TV programmes, this trend casts a dark shadow over the free flow of views, ideas and comments which have been brightening the letter pages of the daily newspapers.
The two letters to which I refer dealt with ethnic concerns of the writers. First, one letter writer called for respect for African tradition. This writer listed several African traditions that I am sure Guyanese blacks find very unfamiliar and alien. Yet the writer called for Guyanese to respect and honour these traditions.
The second letter was a long one in your newspaper that groaned and moaned about lack of East Indian representation in the chronicling of West Indian literature.
These letters reflect a trend that saddens me: instead of being a nation of One People with One Destiny, we seem to want to become a nation of Many Peoples, with Many Destinies. These writers are seeking to sew up little pockets of ethnic enclaves within the national fabric. This could be a worthwhile goal, except for the fact that every person born and raised in Guyana happens to have a unique Guyanese accent, an acquired taste for Guyanese food, and a definite Guyanese style: One (type of) People! Why are these letter writers so adamant about Guyanese turning stiffly about face, away from each other, to embrace the traditional culture of ancient forefathers in distant and alien lands? This puzzles me horribly. We cannot even speak the language of our ancient foreparents!
We should be expending our creative energies in embracing each other more, reaching out warm arms to our fellow Guyanese who live and breathe this land of many waters with us today. These are our kith and kin. We should not be driving wedges of ethnic divisions and turning away from each other to embrace distant, alien lands in India and Africa and China and Europe. Our ancient forefathers from those alien lands are not our kith and kin today.
Also, the African and East Indian traditions both demand celebration in a foreign, alien language! How can we ask a people to celebrate an alien culture in a foreign language? Such irrationality baffles me. Whether we like it or not, Guyanese are a people forged out of the British Empire. We speak English, we are western in our lifestyle and popular culture, and we as a nation descended out of the system of the British Empire. We have to recognise this, stop rejecting it, and accept it! It is a fact of life, whether we moan and groan about it or not.
We as Guyanese are distant and alien from the origin of our forefathers, as much as the Americans are distant from the origins of their forefathers in Europe or Africa or Asia. It is astonishing that as humanity works to organise itself into ever widening and all embracing economic blocs, closed-minded, near-sighted cultural groups seem to be digging deep wedges of division, burying themselves into ethnic and religious enclaves.
We are one humanity, one race of human beings with red blood flowing through all our veins. Nations such as the American, British, Australian peoples are made up of people from diverse origins. Yet these nations have engineered a very patriotic and proud nation of One People, and they work towards One Destiny. It is time we as Guyanese grow up and mature as a people and stop looking back at our ancient foreparents for cultural significance and worth. Instead, we should concentrate on improving the international image of our motherland - Guyana. Let us as a people be proud of our land, our culture (symbolised by our unique accent, our culinary preferences, our expressions and slangs, our dress, etc.) and our nation.
Let us build our nation so that together we walk the world stage a proud people, hand in hand, not faced away from each other looking longingly at the illusionary mirage of distant, strange lands and customs.
The average Guyanese black and Guyanese East Indian would never feel at home in Africa or India. Because Guyana is our home. So let us recognise that we are a people descended out of the British Empire, and move on confidently and together into the future. We are already a forged people. The force to un-forge the nation is a dark, forbidding shadow that must not continue to haunt the national debates and discussions that our new found freedom of expression allows.
Shaun Michael Samaroo
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Jane
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Posted: Wed Dec 7th, 2005 02:49 pm |
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The Man’s Job
A Comedian's Perspective of the Challenges of Manhood
By Jeff Allen
Jeff Allen has been dubbed the World’s Funniest, Most Inspiring Comedian. His standup act is squeaky clean, funnier and more relatable than just about any comedian working today. When performing in spiritual settings, he peppers his act with moving testimony of his transformation from a bitter alcoholic to a joyous entertainer finally at peace with himself and the world.
“Jeff, Jeff wake up! I heard a noise!” Whispering, my wife starts to nudge me, “Wake up, there’s SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE!”
Now, the likelihood that this is actually true is pretty slim. My wife’s hearing is so keen that she can hear molecules moving within solid objects. It was probably just a stray valence electron. In twenty years of marriage, the noises Tami has heard in the middle of the night have never amounted to anything.
Frankly, I’m in a warm bed here. It’s probably 3:00 in the morning. If it’s a burglar, well, our stuff really isn’t worth that much. Moreover, I don’t want to scare my wife, but she is more equipped to deal with this than I. If he tracked mud in the house, she would pummel him where he stood, and send him running for the Mop ‘N’ Glow.
At least that what she does to me.
So I whisper back, “If you were sleeping you wouldn’t have heard it.” I deduced this because I was sleeping and I didn’t hear anything. But we all know I am not getting back to sleep until I go check it out.
“Get down there!” she says to me in one of her high strung whispers loud enough for the burglar to drop our $25 Wal-Mart lamp, adding, “It’s the man’s job!”
The man’s job is a set of tasks on a list none of us men have actually seen. It has no time constraints, and it contains some pretty cruddy jobs. It includes taking out the garbage, shoveling snow, raking leaves, mowing lawns, appearing to be attentive in Lamaze classes, having a stern tone when your son gets out of line, moving the cesspool in the back yard three feet to the right, and barehanded fistfights with post-midnight intruders.
I guess getting up in the middle of the night to a non-existent threat isn’t that heavy a cross to bear. On the other hand, last year terror actually did strike our home. It began with a blood curdling scream from the kitchen.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I immediately, recognized this as my own damsel in distress. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings straight, but when I finally got focused, I remembered I had bought a gun just for this occasion. So I grabbed my rifle and headed toward the scream from the kitchen.
What I saw there was horrifying. The love of my life is standing on a chair, wide-eyed and hyperventilating, trying with all her might to scream again, but nothing was coming out. I looked around for the terrible villain and didn’t see anything.
“Tami! What is it!?” I yelled.
All she could do was gasp for air, (I think she sucked in part of the drapes) and pointed at the floor. Another “Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!” It was moving along the floor with eight legs of pure evil; quite possibly the largest daddy longlegs ever to creep the earth. This thing had a small infant in its teeth. Or a bagel crumb…I’m not sure which. All I know is I was suddenly face-to-face with the opportunity to prove my love for Buttercup. With adrenaline and testosterone rushing through my veins, chest hair sprouting like weeds, and a suddenly deeper voice than was normally mine, I told Tami to stand back. I raised my rifle, pointed it right at the arachnid’s eyes, and squeezed off what I thought would be the fatal shot.
But the BB just knocked the crumb out of his mouth. I didn’t have time to re-pump my Daisy rifle, so it looked like I would have to take on the beast in hand-to-hand combat. Mano a mano. Two legs against eight. Bring it on!
I dropped the gun and went after our intruder with a vengeance. It would be the mother of all exterminations. But just as I assumed the “Crane” martial arts position, Tami hollered, “You’re not going to kill it are you?”
“Uh… why no. I was going to give it some anger management counseling….”
I thought of Saint Francis, who really walked this earth with delicacy and grace for all living creations. If he’d see a small creature in the road, an earthworm, a snail, a frog, he would bend down and gently lift the little being out of the way of the horse's hoof and wagon wheel and say, "Peace be with you, Little Brother.”
Last edited on Wed Dec 7th, 2005 02:50 pm by |
Jane
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Posted: Mon Jan 16th, 2006 06:51 pm |
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MAMA'S GIFTS!!!
Three sons left home, went out on their own and prospered. Getting back together, they discussed the gifts they were able to give their elderly mother.
The first said, "I built a big house for our mother."
The second said, "I sent her a Mercedes with a driver."
The third smiled and said, "I've got you, both beat. You remember how mom enjoyed reading the Bible? And you know she can't see very well. I sent her a remarkable parrot that recites the entire Bible. It took elders in the church 12 years to teach him. He's one of a kind. Mama just has to name the chapter and verse, and the parrot recites it."
Soon thereafter, mom sent out her letters of thanks:
"Milton," she wrote one son, "The house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house."
"Gerald," she wrote to another, "I am too old to travel. I stay most of the time at home, so I rarely use the Mercedes. And the driver is so rude!"
"Dearest ??????," she wrote to her third son, "You have the good sense to know what your mother likes ... the chicken was delicious"
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Jane
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Posted: Wed Jan 18th, 2006 12:06 am |
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Investigating a terrible accidentThere was a terrible bus accident. Unfortunately, no one survived the accident except a monkey which was on board and there were no witnesses. The police try to investigate further but they get no results. At last, they try to interrogate the monkey. The monkey seems to respond to their questions with gestures. Seeing that, they start asking the questions.
The police chief asks, "What were the people doing on the bus?"
The monkey shakes his head in a condemning manner and starts dancing around; meaning the people were dancing and having fun.
The chief asks, "Yeah, but what else were they doing?".
The monkey uses his hand and takes it to his mouth as if holding a bottle.
The chief says, "Oh! They were drinking, huh??!" The chief continues, "Okay, were they doing anything else?"
The monkey nods his head and moves his mouth back and forth, meaning they were talking.
The chief loses his patience, "If they were having such a great time, who was driving the stupid bus then?"
The monkey cheerfully swings his arms to the sides as if grabbing a wheel
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Jane
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Posted: Wed Jan 18th, 2006 12:25 am |
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Bum in need of foodOne afternoon, a man was riding in the back of his limousine when he saw two men eating grass by the road side. He ordered his driver to stop and he got out to investigate. "Why are you eating grass?", he asked one man.
"We don't have any money for food.", The poor man replied.
"Oh, come along with me then."
"But sir, I have a wife with two children!"
"Bring them along! And you, come with me too!", he said to the other man.
"But sir, I have a wife with six children!" The second man answered.
"Bring them as well!"
They all climbed into the car, which was no easy task, even for a car as large as the limo. Once underway, one of the poor fellows says "sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."
The rich man replied "No, you don't understand, the grass at my home is about three feet tall!"
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stargal
Member
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Posted: Thu Jan 19th, 2006 03:11 pm |
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| ha ha ha.... good wan janey gyal!!!....i like it....
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Jane
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Posted: Thu Jan 19th, 2006 06:05 pm |
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On their anniversary night, Tom sat his wife down in the den with her favorite magazine, turned on the soft reading lamp, slipped off her shoes, patted and propped her feet and announced that he was preparing dinner all by himself.
"How romantic!" she thought. 
Two-and-a-half hours later, she was still waiting for dinner to be served. She tiptoed to the kitchen and found it in a colossal mess.
Her harried husband, removing something indescribable from the smoking oven, saw her in the doorway. "Almost ready!" tom said enthusiastically. "Sorry it took me so long--I had to refill the pepper shaker."
"Why, honey, how long did that take you?" 
"More'n an hour, I reckon. Wasn't easy stuffin' it through those little holes."
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stargal
Member
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Posted: Fri May 26th, 2006 06:51 pm |
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A small village some miles away experienced heavy rains. A
rastafarian's
home was flooded out.
On the roof the rastafarian prayed to Jah to save him.
Feeling sure that his prayer would be answered he waited patiently.
After a few minutes some men came in a boat and asked him if he needed
help.
To this he replied: "Jah will save I and I." So the boat left.
A few minutes passed then a plane came to aid the dread followed by a
helicopter,
and each time the Ras replied: "Jah will save di I."
Alas, the Ras drowned. When he was resurrected and met Jah in heaven he
asked:
"Jah, why yuh mek mi drown? You never hear mi prayer?"
"Of course mi hear, dat is why mi send boat, plane and helicopter fi
yuh."
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stargal
Member
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Posted: Wed May 31st, 2006 02:41 pm |
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The businessman dragged himself home and barely made it to his chair before he dropped exhausted.
His sympathetic wife was right there with a tall cool drink and a comforting word. "My, you look tired," she said. "You must have had a hard day today. What happened to make you so exhausted?"
"It was terrible," her husband said. "The computer broke down and all of us had to do our own thinking."
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danny samaroo
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Posted: Thu Oct 19th, 2006 03:33 am |
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3 lil fellas were playing by LBI public road. 1 was Chinee, 1 was black, and 1 was coolie. dem playing foot ball and stuff, u know, lil boys game.
suddenly, a big black car ran off de road and slammed straight in d trench. de 3 lil boys jump in, and pull out de 2 fellas from de car.both of dem fellas were grateful. de 1 who was in de back seat call de 3 lil fellas and to tell dem thanks. so he says: :"Al'yuh kno who me is?"
de 3 lil bos said " no mister"
Man: "Well, I am Forbes Burnham, de President of de country. because al'yuh save mi life, I will give u anthing al'yuh want"
Lil chinee boy says: "I want a big chinee resturant, best cook, best food, and lots of customers"
President says: "Done"
Lil black boy says: " i want de latest model Toyota car, wid the best sound system dat deh pon de market"
President says: "Done"
Lil coolie boy says: "Mr president, I want a state funeral"
President: "Done. But wait, why u want a state funeral for?"
Lil coolie boy: "When me daddy hear dat me save u life, he gon kill me"
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taradjoseph
Member
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Posted: Fri Aug 1st, 2008 12:42 am |
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| that's a good one!
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taradjoseph
Member
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Posted: Fri Aug 1st, 2008 12:51 am |
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| dat show u how most men are in the kitchen...that's a good one.
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