Silliness Add/Read a good joke to lighten your day - Page 444

HomeInMyShoes · 06-20-2013, 12:09 PM

Once there was a millionaire, who collected live alligators. He kept them in the pool in back of his mansion. The millionaire also had a beautiful daughter who was single. One day he decides to throw a huge party, and during the party he announces, "My dear guests . . . I have a proposition to every man here. I will give one million dollars or my daughter to the man who can swim across this pool full of alligators and emerge alive!"

As soon as he finished his last word, there was the sound of a large splash!! There was one guy in the pool swimming with all he could and screaming out of fear. The crowd cheered him on as he kept stroking as though he was running for his life. Finally, he made it to the other side with only a torn shirt and some minor injuries. The millionaire was impressed.

He said, "My boy that was incredible! Fantastic! I didn't think it could be done! Well I must keep my end of the bargain. Do you want my daughter or the one million dollars?"

The guy says, "Listen, I don't want your money, nor do I want your daughter! I want the person who pushed me in that water!"

wodin · 06-20-2013, 01:24 PM

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MIDDLE (by Robert Fulghum)

One day last week I drove past a middle school just as classes ended for the day. As the young trudged away from the school burdened by their bulging back packs, they seemed like a defeated army in retreat.

The raw recruits of the First Junior High Demolition Division, having lost another round in the Battle of the Brains, ravaged by hormones and hunger, were headed home to the trench warfare of family life.

A fleet of yellow busses was lined up in front of the school, with a cluster of students in front of each one waiting to board. Despite the sullen grimness of the general mood, and the ragged appearance of most of their uniform clothing, one small group was laughing while they waited, and another small group was singing as they boarded their bus.

As I watched them, I remembered . . .
Bobby Lee. Thirteen. Seventh Grade. West Junior High. Yellow Jackets. (Really, the school mascot was a wasp) Black and white and yellow.
Mrs. McClung. Algebra. Lucy. Jack. Coach.
Shall I sing the school song? I can.
Shall I tell you far more than you would ever want to know about that time in my life?
I can. But won’t.

How about the dark angel of puberty?
Remember that? Ohmygod . . .

And - (let’s use the least inflammatory words) - remember the transactions you had with your parents in those years?
I was a door slammer.
So were they – that’s how I learned the technique.

The image of the trudging young has stayed alive in my mind for days now.
I see them all over the world when I travel.
And every time I’ve mentioned the experience and asked adults if they remember middle school, the same thing happens:
They smile, roll their eyes a little, and laugh.
Then they will gladly tell me far more than I ever want to know about that time in their lives. They, too, can sing their school song.

It’s a powerful, provocative episode in growing up and on.
Thirteen and in the middle.
Technically a teenager, but half child, half young adult.

Have I made much progress since I was their age?
It’s not yet completely clear.

They have identity problems and wonder who they are.
And so do I.

They’re alarmed by the relentless drives and mysteries of sexuality.
So am I.

They’re worried about what’s happening to their bodies.
So am I.

They wonder why everybody doesn’t like them.
So do I.

They want to fit in and be exactly like everybody else, while at the same time they want to be seen as special and unique.
Me, too.

The person they know themselves to be on the inside is not the person the world thinks them to be from the outside, and they simultaneously want the world to see them as they really are - and never ever find out the truth.
So do I.

They don’t understand the opposite sex – or what opposite really means.
Neither do I.

And they feel caught in the middle between being a kid and being an adult.
So do I.

They wonder what will become of them when they grow up.
And so do I.

They wonder how and when and why they will die.
Me, too.

And the heaviest weight they bear is not their backpacks.
It’s the sense that their lives are in the hands of forces over which they have no conscious control: culture, custom, genes, hormones, the electro-chemical activity of their brains, sunspots, teachers, peers, the internet, and parents.

Me, too. (Having dead parents doesn’t take them out of your life.)

The only truly obvious difference I can see between the middle school scholars and me is that I don’t have a back pack.
I want one.
But if I put all my stuff in it, I couldn’t pick it up or carry it very far.
I have way more stuff now than I did when I was in middle school.
And my stuff now is just as important to me as their stuff is to them.
Nobody understands that – least of all me.

Once again the passing parade of 13-year olds comes to mind.
I wish I could tell them something that would make their burdens lighter.
What do I know now that I didn’t know then?

That the essential nature of being human will not change much over time?

You will always be caught somewhere in the middle between where you’ve been and where you’re going, between what you have and what you want.

It’s called Now - and it isn’t a place, it’s a condition.

Being alive is not a destination, it’s a place on a moving bus.

You will always have more questions than answers.

You will never get yourself or the world all figured out.

You will never ever really know what other people think about you.

You will never ever really understand what you think about yourself.

And -You are not as alone as you think, but it always seems that way.

You will always be in the middle.
Between the facts and confusions, between the joys and cruelties of life.
All this will weigh on your mind as long as you live.

Life will always be a load to carry.
But most of the time you can do it.
This is your life as it is, and there’s no place to go but on.

You’ll get used to it.
And will understand some day that you’re in middle school all the way to the end of your days.
That’s not bad news.
It’s just the way things are – for all of us.

One more thing:
Some who wait for the bus are laughers and singers.
Travel with those people whenever you can.

Fbone · 06-20-2013, 04:55 PM

My luck is so bad that if I bought a cemetery, people would stop dying.
- Rodney Dangerfield

yvanleterrible · 06-20-2013, 06:17 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by wodin

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MIDDLE (by Robert Fulghum)

You will always be caught somewhere in the middle between where you’ve been and where you’re going, between what you have and what you want.

It’s called Now - and it isn’t a place, it’s a condition.

Such beautiful, well thought out prose...

Thank you for sharing!

orlok · 06-20-2013, 06:24 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by badgoodDeb

Any further context to this one? I'm missing the point ...
Plus, this town is only 30 miles or so from me, so I'm curious what the article was about!

Quote:

Originally Posted by WT Sharpe

Someone cut and pasted this article into that newspaper then photographed it for your viewing pleasure.

http://www.theonion.com/articles/new...d-6-day,29588/

You have now joined the increasing number of people who have been taken in by The Onion!

What he said

.

issybird · 06-20-2013, 08:15 PM

Better than hiding your diary under the mattress...

Bookpossum · 06-20-2013, 09:14 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by issybird

Better than hiding your diary under the mattress...

orlok · 06-21-2013, 04:23 AM

Jim Apple finds introducing himself very problematic when holidaying in France.

Bookpossum · 06-21-2013, 05:08 AM

Ha! That took me a couple of seconds to think about it.

samhy · 06-21-2013, 05:31 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Bookpossum

Ha! That took me a couple of seconds to think about it.

Yeah, me too. I should have known better

Kumabjorn · 06-21-2013, 07:11 AM

Stutterer

Stitchawl · 06-21-2013, 09:59 AM

Is there an echo in here?

Stitchawl

pilotbob · 06-21-2013, 11:02 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by wodin

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MIDDLE (by Robert Fulghum)

Nice... but I think you posted in the wrong thread.

You probably meant to put this in profound quotes thread.

wodin · 06-21-2013, 01:28 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by pilotbob

Nice... but I think you posted in the wrong thread.

You probably meant to put this in profound quotes thread.

Yes, I didn't know quite where to put it, so I just chose the longest thread.

BTW, I'd like to thank all the folks who gave me K for this one, I think it's the most K I've gotten for a single post, too many to thank individually.

Fbone · 06-21-2013, 02:17 PM

A small boy was at the zoo with his father. They were looking at the tigers, and his father was telling him how ferocious they were.

“Daddy, if the tigers got out and ate you up…”

“Yes, son?” the father asked, ready to console him.

“ …Which bus would I take home?”

06-20-2013, 01:24 PM	#6647
wodin Illiterate Posts: 10,279 Karma: 37848716 Join Date: Mar 2009 Location: The Sandwich Isles Device: Samsung Galaxy S10+, Microsoft Surface Pro	IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MIDDLE (by Robert Fulghum) One day last week I drove past a middle school just as classes ended for the day. As the young trudged away from the school burdened by their bulging back packs, they seemed like a defeated army in retreat. The raw recruits of the First Junior High Demolition Division, having lost another round in the Battle of the Brains, ravaged by hormones and hunger, were headed home to the trench warfare of family life. A fleet of yellow busses was lined up in front of the school, with a cluster of students in front of each one waiting to board. Despite the sullen grimness of the general mood, and the ragged appearance of most of their uniform clothing, one small group was laughing while they waited, and another small group was singing as they boarded their bus. As I watched them, I remembered . . . Bobby Lee. Thirteen. Seventh Grade. West Junior High. Yellow Jackets. (Really, the school mascot was a wasp) Black and white and yellow. Mrs. McClung. Algebra. Lucy. Jack. Coach. Shall I sing the school song? I can. Shall I tell you far more than you would ever want to know about that time in my life? I can. But won’t. How about the dark angel of puberty? Remember that? Ohmygod . . . And - (let’s use the least inflammatory words) - remember the transactions you had with your parents in those years? I was a door slammer. So were they – that’s how I learned the technique. The image of the trudging young has stayed alive in my mind for days now. I see them all over the world when I travel. And every time I’ve mentioned the experience and asked adults if they remember middle school, the same thing happens: They smile, roll their eyes a little, and laugh. Then they will gladly tell me far more than I ever want to know about that time in their lives. They, too, can sing their school song. It’s a powerful, provocative episode in growing up and on. Thirteen and in the middle. Technically a teenager, but half child, half young adult. Have I made much progress since I was their age? It’s not yet completely clear. They have identity problems and wonder who they are. And so do I. They’re alarmed by the relentless drives and mysteries of sexuality. So am I. They’re worried about what’s happening to their bodies. So am I. They wonder why everybody doesn’t like them. So do I. They want to fit in and be exactly like everybody else, while at the same time they want to be seen as special and unique. Me, too. The person they know themselves to be on the inside is not the person the world thinks them to be from the outside, and they simultaneously want the world to see them as they really are - and never ever find out the truth. So do I. They don’t understand the opposite sex – or what opposite really means. Neither do I. And they feel caught in the middle between being a kid and being an adult. So do I. They wonder what will become of them when they grow up. And so do I. They wonder how and when and why they will die. Me, too. And the heaviest weight they bear is not their backpacks. It’s the sense that their lives are in the hands of forces over which they have no conscious control: culture, custom, genes, hormones, the electro-chemical activity of their brains, sunspots, teachers, peers, the internet, and parents. Me, too. (Having dead parents doesn’t take them out of your life.) The only truly obvious difference I can see between the middle school scholars and me is that I don’t have a back pack. I want one. But if I put all my stuff in it, I couldn’t pick it up or carry it very far. I have way more stuff now than I did when I was in middle school. And my stuff now is just as important to me as their stuff is to them. Nobody understands that – least of all me. Once again the passing parade of 13-year olds comes to mind. I wish I could tell them something that would make their burdens lighter. What do I know now that I didn’t know then? That the essential nature of being human will not change much over time? You will always be caught somewhere in the middle between where you’ve been and where you’re going, between what you have and what you want. It’s called Now - and it isn’t a place, it’s a condition. Being alive is not a destination, it’s a place on a moving bus. You will always have more questions than answers. You will never get yourself or the world all figured out. You will never ever really know what other people think about you. You will never ever really understand what you think about yourself. And -You are not as alone as you think, but it always seems that way. You will always be in the middle. Between the facts and confusions, between the joys and cruelties of life. All this will weigh on your mind as long as you live. Life will always be a load to carry. But most of the time you can do it. This is your life as it is, and there’s no place to go but on. You’ll get used to it. And will understand some day that you’re in middle school all the way to the end of your days. That’s not bad news. It’s just the way things are – for all of us. One more thing: Some who wait for the bus are laughers and singers. Travel with those people whenever you can. Last edited by dreams; 06-23-2013 at 01:55 AM. Reason: added link to the author's website for attribution - moderator

06-20-2013, 08:15 PM	#6651
issybird o saeclum infacetum Posts: 20,187 Karma: 222235366 Join Date: Oct 2010 Location: New England Device: H2O, Aura One, PW5	Better than hiding your diary under the mattress... Attached Thumbnails

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06-20-2013, 12:09 PM	#6646
HomeInMyShoes Grand Sorcerer Posts: 19,226 Karma: 67780237 Join Date: Jul 2011 Device: none	Once there was a millionaire, who collected live alligators. He kept them in the pool in back of his mansion. The millionaire also had a beautiful daughter who was single. One day he decides to throw a huge party, and during the party he announces, "My dear guests . . . I have a proposition to every man here. I will give one million dollars or my daughter to the man who can swim across this pool full of alligators and emerge alive!" As soon as he finished his last word, there was the sound of a large splash!! There was one guy in the pool swimming with all he could and screaming out of fear. The crowd cheered him on as he kept stroking as though he was running for his life. Finally, he made it to the other side with only a torn shirt and some minor injuries. The millionaire was impressed. He said, "My boy that was incredible! Fantastic! I didn't think it could be done! Well I must keep my end of the bargain. Do you want my daughter or the one million dollars?" The guy says, "Listen, I don't want your money, nor do I want your daughter! I want the person who pushed me in that water!"

06-20-2013, 04:55 PM	#6648
Fbone Is that a sandwich? Posts: 8,189 Karma: 100500000 Join Date: Jun 2010 Device: Nook Glowlight Plus	My luck is so bad that if I bought a cemetery, people would stop dying. - Rodney Dangerfield

06-21-2013, 04:23 AM	#6653
orlok Close to the Edit! Posts: 9,797 Karma: 267994408 Join Date: Jan 2011 Location: UK Device: Kindle Oasis, Amazon Fire 8", Kindle 6"	Jim Apple finds introducing himself very problematic when holidaying in France.

06-21-2013, 05:08 AM	#6654
Bookpossum Snoozing in the sun Posts: 10,137 Karma: 115423645 Join Date: Jul 2011 Location: Melbourne, Australia Device: iPad Mini, Kobo Touch	Ha! That took me a couple of seconds to think about it.

06-21-2013, 07:11 AM	#6656
Kumabjorn Basculocolpic Posts: 4,356 Karma: 20181319 Join Date: Jul 2010 Location: Sweden Device: Kindle 3 WiFi, Kindle 4SO, Kindle for Android, Sony PRS-350 and PRS-T1	Stutterer

06-21-2013, 09:59 AM	#6657
Stitchawl Opsimath Posts: 12,344 Karma: 187123287 Join Date: Mar 2009 Location: Chiang Mai, Northern Thailand Device: Sony PRS-650, iPhone 5, Kobo Glo, Sony PRS-350, iPad, Samsung Galaxy	Is there an echo in here? Stitchawl

06-21-2013, 02:17 PM	#6660
Fbone Is that a sandwich? Posts: 8,189 Karma: 100500000 Join Date: Jun 2010 Device: Nook Glowlight Plus	A small boy was at the zoo with his father. They were looking at the tigers, and his father was telling him how ferocious they were. “Daddy, if the tigers got out and ate you up…” “Yes, son?” the father asked, ready to console him. “ …Which bus would I take home?”