A Pending Coffee? – Pause


From Maxima 93.5 & 103.1:

1476037_632988380099204_4235777_nTranslation:

In a small bar in Europe, three customers enter and ask: “Five coffees, please! Two for us and three pending…” They pay for five and take two)

After a while, three more customers enter, pay for seven coffees and only have three.

You will ask yourself: what is a pending coffee?

Well, soon after a vagabond enters and in a barely audible voice asks: “Do you happen to have a pending coffee?”

This is a kind of charity that saw the light in Naples, Italy; people pay for pending coffees and sometimes also for food for those who can not afford to.

* What if this became a fashion in all the countries all over the world? *

Why is Chocolate a Salad?


Chocolate Extravaganza!

Why is Chocolate a Salad?
Let me turn this into a ballad:

Chocolate comes from nuts.
You can ask this of any klutz,
that nuts, they grows on trees,
with Polly, Nate and all the bees!

Now, bees, they suck on any plant,
so would I, I would, but can’t!
Because my lips is too big…
As if you would really give a fig!

Figs and plants make up a salad,
which is the whole point of this ballad.

But chocolate is so very versatile.
To ‘splain might take a while…
‘scuse me while I wipe my mouth,
for another chunk ‘s just gone south!

Chocolate bars and chocolate soap,
chocolate smokes, I should so hope!
Chocolate milk and a chocolate dud,
why not a chocolate Elmer Fudd?

How does chocolate mayo sound to you?
Two squirts of this dressing for you too?
Will you have this chocolate waltz with me?
One, munch, munch, two munch, munch, three?

Yes, chocolate is definitely a salad.
You can dance it like a waltz or a ballad.

Who needs streetlights?


starpath-glowing-pathway-650x0

From digitaltrends.com:

Who needs streetlights when you’ve got glow-in-the-dark streets?

Remember those glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck on your ceiling as a kid? The ones that you could shine a light on for a second to make them glow brighter? Well, a UK company called Pro-Teq is now using that same technology to provide a low-cost way to illuminate streets and walkways.

Brilliant, right? It’s kind of mind-boggling that nobody thought of doing this before, especially since those glowing plastic toys have been around for decades.

The new coating, coincidentally called “StarPath,” is a water-resistant, spray-on treatment that absorbs UV light during the day, and emits a blue glow during the night. This is possible thanks to the inclusion of a phosphorescent compound, but it’s apparently a bit more sophisticated than the stuff that’s used in toys.

 

Artworks of Johnson Tsang: A Painful Pot


From Artworks of Johnson Tsang:

Amazing photo sessions of a sculpting process, done by a Master. A must see for all art-lovers!

1. Sculpting the neck of the dragon:

dscn6317

2. The finished product:

dsc_7507

 

Left For…


Little Teddies

Little Teddies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I was all but three years of age, I had a special friend called Karen. I knew that there was something special about her, amongst others the fact that she was not a boy. Don’t ask me how I knew this, I just did. I think it was something in her eyes, when she gazed at me. We used to talk about small things, but they were important to us, because in our heads we shared them. We could also sit for ages, just holding hands, feeling special for being together.

Until one day she left me for Mister Teddy! I used to like Teddies, before Karen and if I am completely honest, even during Karen. But since that fateful day I don’t, not anymore. She told me it was because he understood things about her that I didn’t and all this without even telling him. I asked how could she tell. She said just by the look in his eyes. I implored her to look into mine and see that I did understand… really, but sadly… I didn’t.

Mister Teddy was the first one to break my heart and I’m still trying to forgive him. Maybe some fine day I will and then he can sleep next to me again. After all, it’s been awhile now…

A Job-huntin’!


Chicken Huntin'

Chicken Huntin’ (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

After eight years of bummin’ around, I think it time to put my nose to the grindstone again, but not too close, ’cause I don’t want to get it ground off completely. I’m planning to get back into the mainstream of life. Maybe not exactly in the middle, but close enough to it to avoid getting muck on my shoes. Ralphie is looking for a job. I did some serious reading and listening to catch up on the latest trends, for I gots to be able to talk the talk and walk the walk, if I wants to get in with a fighting chance.

A notice in the window of a job agency caught my eye.

Wanted(That’s me!): Sales person for a leather store.

Telling myself that this was a piece of cake, I sauntered in, nonchalant-like and presented myself. I told the nice lady behind the desk I could sell that store in no time, just so long as it met with the three L’s of real estate: the location triplets. The nice lady disabused me of this notion and went on to tell me that they were actually looking for someone to sell leather bags and clothes and such. I said that I had done some serious networking and that among my many contacts I counted no less than three, count them: three, presidents of biker clubs. They would surely take that crap off their hands easy-like, if’n the price was right. She told me to vamoose on the horse I rode in on.

I think I don’t like that bitch… I crossed that particular agency off my list of people to do business with. Their loss, I’m sure! Should there be any companies out there that could benefit from my years of experience as an alcohol researcher, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Recycling shit is another one of my fortes. Don’t yawl call around the same time though and may the best outfit win. Who said this wasn’t easy!???

A Picnic is a Fun Thing: a bit of history on eating outdoors.


From pausurribas.wordpress.com

From pausurribas.wordpress.com

Click <here> to read more!

From  Annette Bromley on Expertscolumn:

Novels, short stories, even community histories talk about picnics and how the common picnic has served folks and brought people together through the ages. A picnic, according to the dictionary is “a meal taken in the open air (outside) for pleasure or excursion (people traveling long distances bringing a meal to eat with them to be eaten somewhere outside along their journey path.)”

Today we talk about cook-outs, barbecues and tailgate parties but a picnic is not a word as commonly used in today’s society, and yet all three of these technically are a picnic even if we give them another name. A picnic is a good thing, fun and filled with memories that last a lifetime.

Picnics are no new thing. They have been around for eons of time. The shepherds in the fields enjoyed their meal in the open air while they watched their flocks. Perhaps they had cheese, fruit, hard bread and probably wine of some sort and water from a nearby stream or spring. They may have even cooked a stew of wild herbs and vegetables and maybe wild game that was prepared over an open campfire, (what we might call a cookout today.) The pioneers and homesteaders of the westward movement did much the same, gathering around the campfire to cook their evening meal under the stars.

Cowboys, wranglers all had picnics when they gathered around the chuck wagon for a meal of whatever “Cookie” through together over their campfire. Coffee grounds boiled in water and then set aside to cool long enough for the grounds to settle. That coffee was strong but good. There were probably beans seasoned with salt pork and molasses or a stew made of root vegetables and various herbs and spices and hard bread or biscuits as well as probably ale or hard cider or a jug of liquor passed around; and of course water from a stream or spring, fresh and cool.

Farmers often had their noon meal right in the field where they were working rather than coming back to the farmhouse to eat and having to return to the field. It saved time. They often brought leftover meat, bread, cheese, fruit, cookies, jugs of lemonade or cider and jugs of water with them that they carried to the field in a covered basket packed with ice to keep the food cold that they left nearby in some shaded place. Come noon the farmer and his field hands would gather in the shade for a picnic and to rest awhile before returning to their fieldwork….

 

A Picnic is a Fun Thing: a bit of history on eating outdoors

Those Happy Pills.


English: Happy Pills!!! (Tho I don't know what...

English: Happy Pills!!! (Tho I don’t know what are you able to get there) – Barcelona (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Earlier today I was feeling depressed over some depressing stuff, amazingly. I hardly ever get depressed over good things that happen to me, which is fortunate, therapy costing what it does. You may have guessed that my finances are in a slump and as a result so am I. My ears perked when I heard on TV that they are selling pills now that are absolutely guaranteed to cure any symptoms of depression and as an added bonus they are quite affordable.

I was just reaching for my cell to order this miracle drug, when I stayed my hand to listen to some minor side effects, which could accompany this medication. Apparently, they would render me blues-free and I would hardly care about my hair falling out and the cramps in my lower regions. That is, if I did not slip into a coma entirely or actually died, which would provide a more permanent solution to all my problems.

These miraculous tablets had not been tested on any poor animals, but a large group of inmates from a correctional facility had kindly volunteered for testing. Those that had survived had started a knitting society and were rather pleased with the treatment they had received and thankful for the wigs that the pharmaceutical company had graciously provided them.

That settles it. I’m ordering now, but I insist on my complimentary wig.

Meditation is not easy.


Meditation

Meditation (Photo credit: atsukosmith)

From High Existence dot Com :

Many people read about the benefits of meditating for 20 minutes each day and try to do just that, resulting in discouraging failure.

Meditating for 20 minutes the first time is like trying to bench 450lb on your first day at the gym. Or attempting a black diamond course your first day on skis.

It’s going to end in frustration and boredom, and will likely taint meditation for a long time. Meditation then feels like a difficult chore as opposed to something natural, centering and pleasurable.

Instead, shoot for just 30 seconds. Once you can go the whole time without your mind wandering, double the duration. Repeat.

When your mind does wander, don’t be down on yourself! Simply accept it and center your thoughts once more. Becoming frustrated about this will only set you back further.

You’ll work your way to 20 minutes in no time.

To read more interesting articles, check out the link above!

Gay Ranch Hand – Joke.


Grand Tetons Ranch From Park Road (2) 9-2011

Grand Tetons Ranch From Park Road (2) 9-2011 (Photo credit: inkknife_2000)

 A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching, so she placed an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand. Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk.

She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.

He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching. For weeks, the two of them worked hard and the ranch was doing very well.Then one day, the rancher’s widow said “you have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great. You should go into town and kick up your heels.” The hired hand readily agreed and went into town on Saturday night. He returned around 2:30am, and upon entering the room, he found the rancher’s widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him. She quietly called him over to her.

“Unbutton my blouse and take it off,” she said.

Trembling, he did as she directed.

“Now take off my boots.” He did as she asked, ever so slowly.

“Now take off my socks.” He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots.

“Now take off my skirt.” He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light.

“Now take off my bra.” Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.

Then she looked at him and said: “If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you’re fired!”

For more jokes “funny jokes & pics “

Do You Pray Like This? – Joke.


Ironing board

Ironing board (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

By darkice123 on the Experience Project.

A man was sick and tired of going to work every day while his wife stayed home. He wanted her to see what he went through so he prayed:

“Dear Lord: I go to work every day and put in 8 hours while my wife merely stays at home. I want her to know what I go through, so please allow her body to switch with mine for a day. Amen.

God, in his infinite wisdom, granted the man’s wish. The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman. He arose, cooked breakfast for his mate, awakened the kids, set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches, drove them to school, came home and picked up the dry cleaning, took it to the cleaners and stopped at the bank to make a deposit, went grocery shopping, then drove home to put away the groceries, paid the bills and balanced the checkbook. He cleaned the cat’s litter box and bathed the dog.

Then it was already 1P.M. and he hurried to make the beds, do the laundry, vacuum, dust, and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Ran to the school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home. Set out milk and cookies and got the kids organized to do their homework, then set up the ironing board and watched TV while he did the ironing.

At 4:30 he began peeling potatoes and washing vegetables for salad, breaded the pork chops and snapped fresh beans for supper.

After supper, he cleaned the kitchen, ran the dishwasher, folded laundry, bathed the kids, and put them to bed. At 9 P.M. he was exhausted and, though his daily chores weren’t finished, he went to bed where he was expected to make love, which he managed to get through without complaint.

The next morning, he awoke and immediately knelt by the bed and said: Lord, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so wrong to envy my wife’s being able to stay home all day. Please, oh please, let us trade back.”

The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, replied: “My son, I feel you have learned your lesson and I will be happy to change things back to the way they were. You’ll just have to wait nine months, though. You got pregnant last night.

Ouch!

My Kingdom For A Bed!


Rose et amour....rosa y amor ....rose d'amour ...

Rose et amour….rosa y amor ….rose d’amour ..rosa de amor.. // Explore (Photo credit: photosylvia / silabox…occupée)

I´ve been having daydreams about a bed, as opposed to sleeping on the concrete with a piece of cardboard as a mattress. A bed: a white sea of softness, to swim in while dreaming that smells of roses and lavender. A tender pillow, made for hugging during the long, cold nights. Silken sheets that caress my body with a soft ´swish, swish´as I turn from side to side. A light woolen blanket, the touch of which sends me into a deep slumber, the sheep having already been counted. And then to wake up in this little corner of paradise to the divine smell of brewing coffee. Mmmm… maybe someday Ralphie!

Since I wrote this, I have only slept on the street once, thanks to all the wonderful pilgrims I have met, who help me out! I shall hold them in my heart for ever!

A Day in Gandia II…


Escultura de Calixt III a Gandia

Escultura de Calixt III a Gandia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I´m sitting on a park bench reminiscing about times gone by. In front of me on the ground are loads of broken seed-shells of what they call Pipas here. People eat them by the bagload, nibbling them one by one, after having divested them of their shells with two deft little bites. I´ve never been able to master the technique. A white dove came to peck at them. I thought to myself whether this were the Dove of Peace, sent to me by my guardian angel to bring me tranquility. I sincerely hope so. What is there for this dove to feed on though, but the broken shards of the seeds of ideas that never came to fruition. Dreams that have grown tired of their forebears being shattered time and time again. I almost feel like giving up hope this time. What does the future have in store for me now: more disappointment?

All I wanted was to earn enough with my writing to live on, which hasn´t happened yet and might never happen. Should I still keep going, just for the sake of it? It´s harder without feedback, not having the money for internet. I feel like a clown performing his silly tricks, with for an audience one lone dove. At least I just made myself smile, albeit wearily… Correction, of two doves, no… three and a sparrow! My audience is growing even as my spirit is lifting! All might still be right with the world.

Vegan Outrage!


Raw vegan lunch. Spicy seaweed wraps with pean...

Raw vegan lunch. Spicy seaweed wraps with peanut sauce (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I read this on a shop window of a Vegan restaurant in Barcelona and thought I should share it with you:

Spicesism: discrimination against a person on the basis of which spices he or she prefers!

Duck Talk! – Joke


From RaggedyTragedy on Experience Project.

"White" table grapes

“White” table grapes (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A duck walks into a convenience store and asks the clerk, “Do you have any grapes?” The clerk says no, and the duck leaves. The next day, the duck returns and asks, “Do you have any grapes?” The clerk again says no, and the duck leaves.

The day after that, the duck walks in the store again and asks “Do you have any grapes?” The clerk screams at the duck, “You’ve come in here the past two days and asked if we had any grapes. I told you ´no´ every time that we don’t have any grapes! I swear if you come back in here again, and ask for grapes, I’ll nail your webbed feet to the floor!!”

The duck left, and returned the next day. This time he asked, “Do you have any nails?” The clerk replied, “No,” and the duck said, “Good! Got any grapes?”