And let's not forget how Jesus was born to save and redeem us forever!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thursday, December 1, 2011
This joke is basically only meant for us girl's ----but our husbands (boyfriends ) should read it to understand why we need so much time in the ladies' room !!!!!
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch.. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers"(invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one,but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless (God I should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake..
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance".
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more..
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday -the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious,tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well thatit's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get".
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.
You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, .....so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly,"Here, you just might need this"..
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom..
Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" ..................
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public restrooms (rest?? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse, and hand you Kleenex under the door!
Send this to all women that understand what bonding in the bathroom is all about!
PS/ I laughed till my tummy aches, coz this is so true. I do not own this but I just actually snagged this post from my friend's G. Reynolds' Facebook stat. I think I need to repost this coz I also wanna share this annoying dilemmas we encounter inside the public restrooms...;D
When home seems to collapse any moment...while the father and the mother fight, like most of them do... over some issues specifically on money matters or the inevitable third party issues...the children will always be the direct hit here. The woebegones and hapless children don't know where and who to turn to. They tend to be combative or some tend to be melancholy aloof, reticent and indifferent. As a mom, I'd say I am not the near-perfect although I always try to reach out to my kids and look after them and do whatever is needed as a good mother should always be. I always tell that I was born to be a mother but not necessarily that I'd be a good wife that be. Being a wife and a mother is a hard deal. But sometimes things happened when you least expect it to happen. I want to segue way, let us not touch my life and just talk about the kids who usually end up confiding me the innermost of their feelings. They usually confide things to me and usually find solace and peace that makes me prouder than ever. The feeling is nice and fulfilling lalo na't naiihinga nila ang mga sentiments nila sa akin, I don't know why...but it made me a pseudo-counselor and I came to know different issues regarding parents in rift, or between siblings and even the bf-gf quarrel. I have this one classmate of my daughter who's a very fine mannered young lady, petite and lean...soft-spoken and so honest enough to squeal that she and her boyfriend has already been separated with just a split hairs arguement. No reason at all and the height is...the boyfriend calls for it. Very ungentlemanly enough. I told the young lady my two-cents worth and gladly she went home with a smile...and an added confidence.
There's this story naman that involves a gay dilemma. He is closeted. He only confides in me, talagang litaw pag ako ang kaharap. But when he is in front of his parents it's different that's why everybody would be in a hush hush whispering...but there's one time when a candid mom yelled, "baklaaaaa!"...the father asked the guy... "why did she call you bakla?!" ...naku galit ang ama..."papa, hindi naman po yata bakla ang sinabe"...hay naku he's very prim and proper pag kaharap ang ama, pero pag ako na kaharap...he's a faggot screaming na. One time also, when he's inside my room, I asked him, hindi ka ba nahihirapan niyan...very tago...and he went, "tita sobrang hirap nga po eh" I love the company of gays because they are livewires and can make every situation happier. Masaya silang kasama.
There are lots of situation that needs different salves...and I don't know why and how I came to be a pseudo-counselor when in fact I needed salves myself also. Maybe being a Libran, that I am somehow very impartial and I find reasons more sensible enough to apply rather than using emotions. Weighing things has put me on indecisive zone...I weigh things exactly no matter who is involved. Forgiving has always put me to a difficult situation that tests my patience to the max...most of the time I was abused and been taken for granted. But...but...when I am pushed too far...I throw my upbraids loud enough and clear enough. I have cried over a lot of times...hard enough to tear me down...but being resilient is better that skulking in one corner. Being positive and resilient is one of my best character. I used to be pessimistic and I remember one shrink has told me that I was indeed one. I still keep that note from him. What I did was...I did cure it myself...I don't want to be labeled as one. If I cry today, I make sure that after welling I'll stand up, leave my crib and play good music and browse the internet or I drive around and go to the mall. Then, voila...I am a new person again...revived...and an eager beaver again to live and breathe. That's the best way to cure and it's just easier to be happy than making your life miserable and lonely. Better and easier to smile and laugh than to smirk and drool...and be annoyed. As a person I want to be in happier note than any otherwise.