Thanks For Visiting this Blog!!!!!!!
Dev Patel here. Life is a Poem & You are Poet of your Life.
This is d blog where u get Poems.
You will find yourself in this blog. Destination of Destiny is waiting for you.
You will find all thing about Philosophy ,motivation , spiritual ,inspiration, success ,
life , love , relationships.
Life is so Beautiful so enjoy & feel the each moments of life. This moment never come again.
This blog makes ur soul peaceful and happy.
Did you ever wonder what happened to canvas sneakers, the ones that sold for $2.98 a pair? Where the yellow went when the snow melted? Or, did they ever find Baby Jane?. These are a few questions left dangling with no apparent answers.
If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around for miles, does it make a noise? That is an age old imponderable like, which came first the chicken or the egg. I have the answer to that one; that is the Bible has the answer to it. In Genesis 2:19,20 “And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field and every fowl of the air: and brought them unto Adam to see what he would call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof.” God did not bring an egg to Adam; he brought a chicken.
Ever wonder who changed everything to “Politically Correctness?” And what does that mean anyway? A person is no longer blind, he is vision impaired. He is no longer deaf, but hearing impaired. While we are at it, why not change obese to, I am not overweight, I am under tall?
Can a person truly be height impaired? Some people are just shorter than others, like Little People (not midgets or dwarves please), while some of the basketball players are over seven feet tall. Then shouldn’t the NBA raise the height of the nets another four feet for the tall players and lower it six feet for the Little People?
Ever wonder, a great comedian once asked, why they have braille on drive up windows at the bank? Now there is something to think about.
Ever wonder who this guy, Anonymous is and why he signs so many letters? Is he Greek? Sounds like Greek to me.
Ever wonder how the younger generation is going to be running the country someday? They can not even clean their own bedrooms for pity sake. Entering a teen’s bedroom is like going through a village after a tornado strikes.
Ever wonder how your mother seems to know what you did, ofttimes before you did it? Mothers have a secret radar system called intuition.
“Don’t you smoke tonight when you go out.” Huh? How’d she know that? That onion and mustard sandwich apparently did not mask the smell of tobacco on my breath the last time. Speaking of breath, did you hear about the Seventh Day Adventist who divorced her husband, she smelled pot roast on his breath.
“Stay away from Suzy Smith, she is not your type.” Oh, Mother, just because she wears her skirts up to her, oh say can you see, and wears enough make up that her face looks like an Andy Warhol painting. Oh my, Mother dear, you worry too much.
Mothers are a phenomenal lot, the more children they have the more love they can spread around, and the wider her radar net is spread too.
Ever wonder if the moon is actually made of green cheese? That is what our fathers told us when we asked as children. Fathers have a built in radar also; it is called ask your mother.
“Can I go to the movies Pop?”
“Ask your mother.”
“Can I have a quarter?”
“Ask you mother.”
“Pop, Mom asked me to ask you about the birds and the bees.”
“Ask your grandmother.”
Ever wonder why television commercials for fast food joints always show the clerks in clean, pressed, starched uniforms and wearing friendly smiles, smiles that could melt the coldest heart. In the real world, their uniforms have not been pressed since they took them out of the box. Did you ever see one of them smile? When you drive up to the order window instead of hearing, “Welcome to So and So, how may I help you?” they say, in a low monotone, “What will you have? That will be eight dollars and fifty one cents. Drive to the first window.” You drive to window one.
“Eight dollars and fifteen cents,” the clerk announces. You pay with a ten dollar bill. The clerk (still no smiles) plops the change, and a receipt in your hand (have a nice day!) Do you think she cares if you have a nice day or not? You continue to window number two (still no smiles.) They pass you the bag without a comment or a thank you and you are on your way. Where are the smiling clerks I saw on TV last night, the ones who could not do enough to please you, and were so grateful you came to their place of business? Let me tell you folks, they only exist in TV commercials.
Ever wonder what a telemarketer would do if you told him, you were eating dinner, and asked him for his home phone number, so you could call him back, say at bed time, or on his day off work. I’ve got a better idea. The next time one of those overzealous phone jockies calls you put them on hold and eat your dinner. If they are still on the line after dessert, tell them you are not interested, and hang up the phone.
Ever wonder how the company you just called counts minutes? “Our next available representative will be with you in less than five minutes.” Fifteen minutes later you are still listening to the 1812 Overture, and it is not over yet. All of this is after you have punched in five numbers to get to the department you wanted in the first place.
Ever go to the bank and get a new trainee, one who asks for identification when you pass them cash and a deposit slip with your back account number written on it? Like I’m going to put my money in someone else’s account. “Here is a hundred dollars, put it in my neighbor’s savings account.”
Ever wonder what would happen if you used Ben Gay instead of Preparation H? Boy that would smart. My Mother actually did this one time. I say one time, because that is all it took to smarten her up. Pardon the pun. She reads labels now.
Ever wonder what happens when colorful tattoos fade? You look like a blue Etch a Sketch drawing, goodbye short sleeve shirts. I saw a man at the grocery store the other day with a tattoo of a lawn mower on the back of his head. He can not sleep on his back anymore he’s afraid of cutting his pillow to shreds.
Ever wonder why, when you were in school, the week days were like forty eight hours long while the weekend days were two hours long? Doesn’t seem fair. Wait until you are my age, all the days are two hours long, unless you are waiting in the doctor’s office for an appointment.
When you finally get to see the doctor he asks if you have had your Flu shot. You tell him no, and he sends his nurse in to administer the vaccine. She looks like Hulk Hogan in drag and she is carrying a fourteen inch needle. She says in a voice sweet enough to melt an ogre’s heart, “You might feel a little sting.” A little sting, You must be kidding me, it feels as if your right arm is about to detach itself from the rest of your body. But, it puts a smile on her face. You have to wonder if she was a graduate of De Sade U.
Ever wonder about your kids, how smart they are? Most three year old kids today can recite the alphabet and count to fifty, a fete I had not mastered until third grade, but then I was fourteen months old before I took my first step. My mother bought me an Encyclopedia when I was eighteen months old. She thought she would start me early, but instead I had eaten from aardvark through pheasant before she took the book away from me.
One smart little boy in Sunday School thought he would show his teacher how much he knew about God.
“Teacher,” he began, “I know God’s name.”
“You do Tommy?”
“Yep,” he answered.
“What is God’s name Tommy?” She asked.
“Howard,” he replied.
“Yep, our father who are in heaven, Howard be thy name.”
That same little fella announced one Sunday morning.
“I know something about God.”
“What do you know about God?” The teacher asked.
“God is left handed,” Tommy replied.
“How do you know God is left handed?” The teacher asked.
“Because Jesus is sitting on his right hand.”
Kids are so cute, aren’t they? Their conversations are so unbiased and truthful, like little Billy.
Billy told his friends, “My Aunt Millie has been married four times, and each time she got a lot of money.”
“Who did she marry?” Billy’s friend asked.
“Well, first she married a banker, he died. She married a theater owner, and he died, then she married a doctor and he died, and last she married an undertaker, and he died.”
“Why did she marry so many men?” The friend asked.
“Well, one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready and four to go.”
Four single ladies living in Florida played Bridge every afternoon. They were all widows except one, who had never been married. One of the ladies had been married four times and each husband had died. She had all her husbands cremated. While she was taking a bathroom break, the other ladies were discussing the woman’s marriages. The little old maid spoke up.
“Here I am single, never did land a man, and she had husbands to burn.”
Ever wonder when a politician is lying? One man said, “If his lips are moving, he is lying.” They make all kinds of promises that they have no intention of keeping when they land the job. They spend ten times what they will make, in office, to get elected. Does that make sense to you? Would you go out and spend ten times your income to get eighty percent less money? I doubt it. Then their motivation can not be kissing babies and wooing mothers. It has to be to stroke their own egos. The politician is a politician, is a politician rather he is running for President of the United States, or a selectman in a town with a population of four hundred people.
It reminds me of the story of the small town in my home State of Maine. The community was represented by four selectmen who oversaw the finances of the town. There was a woman in that town of questionable repute who recently moved into the trailer park on the main road. She had four children by four different men. The selectmen met to decide what they were going to do about this welfare recipient.
“What’s the story, Jake?” A selectman asked the treasurer.
“Well we paid out twelve hundred dollars last year for her welfare including’ food stamps. The State reimbursed us fourteen hundred dollars.”
The selectmen thought it over, and the head of the board asked for suggestions as to what they should do about this woman.
A selectman, sitting at the table said; “We made two hundred dollars off the State. I say, breed her again.” Now that is good old Yankee thinking’.
Ever wonder about talking animals? Here, is a story you might enjoy. A man had a talking dog that followed him around every day. The man took the dog into a bar in the Old Port; sat the dog on a stool.
“I’ve got a talking dog,” he told the bartender.
“So what,” the bartender said.
“If he talks will you give me a beer?”
“If that mutt talks I’ll give you all the beer you can drink.”
“Ask him any sports question you like,” the man said.
“Who was the greatest all time baseball slugger in history?” The bartender asked.
“Ruth,” the dog replied. The bartender believing he said ruff grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and tossed him out on his ear, dog following.
The dog looked at his master with a look of bewilderment. “Should I have said Dimaggio?”
Hans and Frans went mountain climbing with their mother in the Alps. When they reached four thousand feet, their mother slipped and fell to her death below. Frans tapped his brother on the shoulder and said, “Look Hans no Ma.” I know it’s old, and it’s corny, but I still like it.
Ever wonder who the laziest person in the world might be? Well there was a contest a few years ago to determine exactly who that person was. The winner was a man from the Ozarks. The organization that sponsored the contest sent their representative to the town in the Ozarks to hand over the check for one thousand dollars. When he finally found the home of the winner, the recipient’s wife said he was down at the pond fishing. The rep went down and found the man in overalls laying face up, straw in mouth, hat down over his eyes.
“Mister Jones?” The rep asked.
“Yep,” he answered.
“I have a check for one thousand dollars. You won the contest as the laziest man alive. What should I do with the check?” He asked.
The man never moved a muscle, “roll me over and put it in my back pocket.” Now folks, that is laziness.
Ever wonder where a writer gets the time to set down a bunch of idiotic rambling thoughts? Well, first he has to be retired. I am, and then, he has to have nothing better to do. I do not, and third, he has to be audacious enough to think someone would actually be interested in his purposeless slapdash. I am, audacious enough that is.
I hope these wanderings have, at least made you smile. There is so much evil and terror in this world. We need to laugh more. God says, through King Solomon, “a merry heart doth good like a medicine; a broken spirit drieth up the bones.”