something lovely,funny,entertaining etc
Hi everybody you know sometimes perhaps in an e-mail or something you get some lovely things that I am sure some of us would love to share or perhaps a joke
BUT
They must be polite and not rude or anything that would offend anybody nor can they be racial
and please no chain letters.........
We don't need to see Violence or stupidy......
Remember people over the many MIchael Bolton boards we have always tried to respect one and another so lets see how this goes :)
These are some of the picture's sent to me in an e-mail
enjoy :)
Cherry Blossoms Japan
Tundra
Autumn in Germany
The beauty of Antarctica
Tags:
JUST RECIEVED THIS E-MAIL LOL!
THE PERFECT HUSBAND
several men are in the locker room of a golf club. A cellular phone on a bench rings and a man engages the hands-free speaker function and begins to talk. Everyone else in the room stops to listen.
MAN: 'Hello'
WOMAN: 'Honey, it's me. Are you at the club?'
MAN: 'Yes'
WOMAN: 'I am at the shops now and found this beautiful leather coat. It's only $2,000. Is it OK if I buy it?'
MAN: 'Sure, go ahead if you like it that much.'
WOMAN: 'I also stopped by the Lexus dealership and saw the new Models. I saw one I really liked.'
MAN: 'How much?'
WOMAN: '$90,000'
MAN: 'OK, but for that price I want it with all the options.'
WOMAN: 'Great! Oh, and one more thing...the house I wanted last year is back on the market. They're asking $980,000'
MAN: 'Well, then go ahead and give them an offer of $900,000. They will probably take it. If not, we can go the extra $80,000 if it's really a good deal.'
WOMAN: 'OK. I'll see you later! I love you so much!'
MAN: 'Bye! I love you, too.'
The man hangs up. The other men in the locker room are staring at him in astonishment, mouths agape.
He turns and asks: 'Anyone know who this phone belongs to?'
I have just recieved this one as well LOL!!!!!
As we near the end of 2010, I want to thank all of you for your educational e-mails. I am totally screwed up now and have little chance of recovery.
I no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel, or have the waitress put lemon slices in my ice water without worrying about the bacteria on the lemon peel.
I can’t use the remote in a hotel room because I don’t know what the last person was doing while flipping through the adult movie channels.
I can’t sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.
I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking one’s nose.
Eating a little snack sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of Trans fats I have consumed over the years.
I can’t touch any woman’s purse for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom.
I MUST SEND MY SPECIAL THANKS to whoever sent me the one about rat poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing.
ALSO, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die for the 1,387,258th time.
I no longer have any money, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.
I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa’s Novena has granted my every wish.
I can’t have a drink in a bar because I’ll wake up in a bathtub full of ice with my kidneys gone.
I can’t eat at KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, feet or feathers.
I can’t use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.
THANKS TO YOU I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.
BECAUSE OF YOUR CONCERN, I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.
I no longer buy gas without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer doesn’t crawl in my back seat when I’m filling up.
I no longer drink Pepsi or Fanta since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put ‘Under God’ on their cans.
I no longer use Cling Wrap in the microwave because it causes seven different types of cancer.
AND THANKS FOR LETTING ME KNOW I can’t boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face. Disfiguring me for life.
I no longer go to the movies because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS when I sit down.
I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer receive packages from UPS or Fed Ex since they are actually Al Qaeda agents in disguise.
And I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan
I no longer buy cookies from Neiman-Marcus since I now have their recipe.
THANKS TO YOU I can’t use anyone’s toilet but mine because a big black snake could be lurking under the seat and cause me instant death when it bites my butt.
AND THANKS TO YOUR GREAT ADVICE I can’t ever pick up $2.00 coin dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting to grab me as I bend over.
I no longer drive my car because buying gas from some companies supports Al Qaeda, and buying gas from all the others supports South American dictators.
I can’t do any gardening because I’m afraid I’ll get bitten by the Violin Spider and my hand will fall off.
If you don’t send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhoea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, and the fleas from 120 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbour’s ex-mother-in-law’s second husband’s cousin’s best friend’s beautician .
Oh, by the way.....
A German scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mail with their hand on the mouse.
Don’t bother taking it off now, it’s too late.
P. S.: I now keep my toothbrush in the living room, because I was told by e-mail that water splashes over 6 ft. out of the toilet. And I just recieved this one
BRILLIANT BRILLIANT BRILLIANT!!!! I still tell everyone about coca cola because i hate the stuff, keep my toothbrush locked in the cabinet, ooo and never ever lick envelopes!! looool crazy I know, but I think I received one too many emails too! thanks DIanna!!oz.x
That why I make my own name and address stickers to use LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's not useless at all Juliet thankyou!
Always good to know another excuse for my weight LOL!!!!
Love Dianna xxx
Ozlem I truly hate those e-mails where you have to send them to other people etc etc I just delete them!
I always use my shirt to open public doors to the toilet etc and I carry hand santizer with me at all time even in an evening bag if that's the only thing that fits,that's what I am taking LOL! TRUE!
Love Dianna xxx
Hi everyone, I’ve received this message today for the Xteenth time,. But it’s in my top 10 favorites so hope you enjoy it too. Take care. Hugs, sincerely, Sylvie from Canada
The Brick!!
A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighbourhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door!
He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown. The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, 'What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?' The young boy was apologetic. 'Please, mister....please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do,' He pleaded. 'I threw the brick because no one else would stop...' With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car.. 'It's my brother,' he said, 'he rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.'
Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, 'Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.' Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay 'Thank you and may God bless you,' the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.
It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar.. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message: 'Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!' God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.
Hi everyone, the following is a seasonal favorite forward I think i've gotten 3 years in a row and still enjoy it and hope you do too. Take care all and happy hollidays! Hugs, sincerely, Sylvie from Canada
The tablecloth
The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October excited about their opportunities When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service
on Christmas Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls,painting, etc, and on December 18
were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On December 19 a terrible tempest - a driving
rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.
On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about
20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the
sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about
head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor,
and not knowing what else to do but postpone
the Christmas Eve service, headed home.
On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful,
handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth
with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross
embroidered right in the center. It was just
the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older
woman running from the opposite direction was
trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for
the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet.. "Pastor,"
she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?"
The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there.. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria .
When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave.
Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth;
but she made the pastor keep it for the church.
The pastor insisted on driving her home, that
was the least he could do. She lived on the other
side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn
for the day for a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized
from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.
The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one
that his wife had made years ago when
they lived in Austria before the war and how
could there be two tablecloths so much alike.
He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he
forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was
supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and
put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to
take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten
Island and to the same house where the pastor
had taken the woman three days earlier..
He helped the man climb the three flights of
stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on
the door and he saw the greatest Christmas
reunion he could ever imagine..
True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid
Thanks Sylvie for this story if it is true then it is truly beautiful even if it's not it still bought tears to my eyes :)
Love Dianna xxx
Hi everyone, I've just recieved a forward worthy of being shared and that hasn't happened in a good while. Hope you enjoy it. Take care. Hugs, sincerely, Sylvie from Canada
Invisible Mother
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please'. Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature - but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.' In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2) These builders gave their whole lives for work they would never see finished.
3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, 'Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'you’re gonna love it there...' As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
Great Job, MOM!
How true is this :)
Thanks for sharing with us Sylvie
Love Dianna xxx
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