king0981's Xanga

Kizzle is back in town...maybe

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 12:52:27 GMT

It has been forever hasn't it? Fear not! I AM BACK! Muahaha Aren't you all excited? This time, it will be more laughter, more smiles, more nonsense, more stories, and CRAZIER THAN EVER!! haha

Shall we start off with a joke? Why not!

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Bob was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was
really pissed.

She told him "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the
driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds AND IT BETTER BE THERE !!"

The next morning he got up early and left for work. When his wife woke
up, she looked out the window and sure enough there was a box
gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway.

Confused, the wife put on her robe and ran out to the driveway, brought
the box back in the house.

She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.

Bob has been missing since Friday.

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I see you are smiling! Did you guys miss me? haha

More to come so stay tune!

Friday, September 07, 2007

Fri, 07 Sep 2007 23:32:56 GMT

My mind seems to be wondering away..........

Me: Hello! How are ya?
Guy passing by in hallway: Hey! Have a great weekend!
Me: GOOD!

Ok...did I just answer my own question while talking to someone else? o_O

Friday, September 07, 2007

Fri, 07 Sep 2007 03:15:33 GMT

Isn't it strange that I get along with people that are older in age? Maybe I'm just getting old........

The Carrot, The Egg, and The Coffee Bean

Tue, 06 Feb 2007 17:01:49 GMT

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling.

It seemed that, as one problem was solved, a new one arose. Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to a boil. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans.

She let them sit and boil, without saying a word. In about twenty minutes, she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?"

"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," the young woman replied. The mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity - boiling water - but each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened! The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" the mother asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?" Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong but, with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit but, after a death, a breakup, or a financial hardship, does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavour.

If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?

Twenty Dollars

Sun, 28 Jan 2007 16:41:34 GMT

A well known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill. In the room of 200, he asked. "Who would like this $20 bill?"

Hands started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you - but first, let me do this."

He proceeded to crumple the 20 dollar note up. He then asked. "Who still wants it?" Still the hands were up in the air.

"Well," he replied, "what if I do this?" He dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. "Now, who still wants it?"

Still the hands went into the air.

"My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20. Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless; but no matter what happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value.

Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who love you. The worth of our lives comes, not in what we do or who we know, but by ...WHO WE ARE.

You are special - don't ever forget it."

Moonlight Ride

Fri, 26 Jan 2007 01:58:26 GMT

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.
For once in her life 'twas on the right side of town.
She unpacked her things with such great ease.
As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.

How wonderful it was to have her own room.
School would be starting, she's have friends over soon.
There'd be sleep-overs, and parties: she was so happy.
It's just the way she wanted her life to be.

On the first day of school, everything went great.
She made new friends and even got a date.
She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be,
Because I just got a date with the star of the team!"

To be known in this school you had to have a clout,
And dating this guy would sure help her out.
There was only one problem stopping her fate.
Her parents had said she was too young to date.

"Well, I just won't tell them the entire truth.
They won't know the difference: what's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."

Excited, she got ready for the big event.
But as she rushed around like she had no sense,
She began to feel guilty about all the lies,
But what's a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride?

Well the pizza was good, and the party was great,
But the moonlight ride would have to wait.
For Jeff was half drunk by this time.
But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.

Then the room filled with smoke and Jeff took a puff.
Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff.
Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point,
But only after he'd smoked another joint.

They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,
Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last,
And Jeff started trying to make a pass.

A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all
(and by a pass, I don't mean playing football).
"Perhaps my parents were right....maybe I am too young.
Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb."

With all of her might, she pushed Jeff away:
"Please take me home, I don't want stay."
Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.
In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.

As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger.
She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,
But he just got faster as they neared the town.

"Just let me get home!
I'll confess that I lied.
I really went out for a moonlight ride."
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"

She doesn't remember the force of impact.
Just that everything all of a sudden went black.
She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,
And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!"

Voices she heard...a few words at best.
But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right,
And if the people in the other car were alive.

She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad.
"You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad."
These voices echoed inside her head,
As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.

They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do.
But it looks as if we'll lose you too."
"But the people in the other car?" Jenny cried.
"We're sorry, Jenny, they also died."

Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done.
I only wanted to have just one night of fun."
Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim,
And wish I could return their families to them."

"Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied,
And that it's my fault so many have died.
Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"
The nurse just stood there-she never agreed.

But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes.
And a few moments later Jenny died.
A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do you best,
To bid that girl her one last request?"

She looked at the man with eyes oh so sad.
"Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad."

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This story is sad and unpleasant but true. The point of this story really was suppose to be honesty - always tell the truth. But you know, it's even more sad that people drink and drive. This is one thing that really gets to me and whats more is that the kids that do it actually think it's funny! I can only hope that one day they will learn; hopefully not the hard way.

The Mask

Wed, 24 Jan 2007 02:54:31 GMT

Don't be fooled by the face I wear, for I wear a thousand masks, And none of them are me. Don't be fooled, for goodness sake, don't be fooled.

I give you the impression that I'm secure, that confidence is my name and coolness is my game, And that I need no one. But don't believe me.

Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in aloneness, in fear. That's why I create a mask to hide behind, to shield me from the glance that knows, But such a glance is precisely my salvation.

That is, if it's followed by acceptance, if it's followed by love. It's the only thing that can liberate me from my own self-built prison walls. I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing and that I'm just no good, And that you will reject me.

And so begins the parade of masks. I idly chatter to you. I tell you everything that's really nothing and Nothing of what's everything, of what's crying within me.

Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying. I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous, and me. But you've got to help me. You've got to hold out your hand.

Each time you're kind and gentle, and encouraging, Each time you try to understand because you really care, My heart begins to grow wings, feeble wings, but wings.

With your sensitivity and sympathy, and your power of understanding, You alone can release me from my shallow world of uncertainty.

It will not be easy for you. The nearer you approach me, The blinder I may strike back. But I'm told that Love is stronger than strong walls, And in this lies my only hope.

Please try to beat down these walls with firm hands, But gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive.

Who am I, you wonder. I am every man you meet, and also every woman that you meet, And I am you, also.

The Greatest General

Sun, 21 Jan 2007 06:00:38 GMT

Let tell you about a man who died and met God. Realizing God was a wise and knowledgeable , he said, "God God, I have been interested in military history for many years. Tell me who was the greatest general of all times?"

God quickly responded, "Oh, that's a simple question. It is that man right over there," as he pointed nearby.

The man said, "You must be mistaken, my dear God. I knew that man on earth. He was just a common laborer."

"That's right, my friend," replied God. "But he would have been the greatest general of all time -- if he had been a general."

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You were created with natural abilities and an internal compass that guides you toward a particular focus for your life. That's only the starting point; the next step is yours. You have an obligation to expand that potential to its ultimate destiny.

Remember it was Michelangelo who said, "It is only well with me when I have a chisel in my hand."

So today...............Discover what you are supposed to do and do it!

Sandpiper

Sun, 14 Jan 2007 00:58:03 GMT

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

"Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.

"I'm building," she said.

"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.

"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."

That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by.

"That's a joy," the child said.

"It's a what?" I asked.

"It's a joy, my mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." The bird went gliding down the beach.

"Good-bye joy," I muttered to myself, "hello pain," and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.

"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.

"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."

"Mine's Wendy....I'm six."

"Hi, Wendy."

She giggled. "You're funny," she said. In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.

"Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."

The days and weeks that followed belonged to others; a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother.

The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. "I need a sandpiper," I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.

"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

"I don't know, you say."

"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.

Her tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."

"Then let's just walk," I said. Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. "Where do you live?" I asked.

"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter.

"Where do you go to school?"

"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation." She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things.

When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.v Three weeks later, I rushed to the beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.

"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."

She seemed unusually pale and out of breath. "Why?" she asked.

I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, "My God, why was I saying this to a little child?"

"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."

"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and - oh, go away!"

"Did it hurt?" she inquired

"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.

"When she died?" she asked.

"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstand, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.

A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

"Hello," I said. "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."

"Not at all-she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.

"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."

Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.

"She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called "happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered.

"She left something for you...if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?" I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman.

She handed me a smeared envelope with "Mr. P" printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues - a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

Tears welled up in my eyes and a heart that had almost forgotten how to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." I muttered over and over, and we wept together.

The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words - one for each year of her life - that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color of sand - who taught me the gift of love.

NOTE:
This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy life, living, and each other.

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"The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less."

Life is complicated and sometimes the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important and what is only a momentary setback or crisis. So remember, today, tomorrow, and the day after, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, stop and take a moment....even if it is only for a few seconds, to smell the roses ........

Friday, January 12, 2007

Fri, 12 Jan 2007 04:53:51 GMT

In this Life, family is the most precious gift we are given
The most sacred
Turn your back on them and that is truly when you have nothing...........