Chuck Norris Facts

If you have five dollars and Chuck Norris has five dollars, Chuck Norris has more money than you.
There is no 'ctrl' button on Chuck Norris's computer. Chuck Norris is always in control.
Chuck Norris can sneeze with his eyes open.
Chuck Norris destroyed the periodic table, because he only recognizes the element of surprise.
Chuck Norris can kill two stones with one bird.
Chuck Norris once ate a whole cake before his friends could tell him there was a stripper in it.
There are no races, only countries of people Chuck Norris has beaten to different shades of black and blue.
When Chuck Norris falls in water, Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. Water gets Chuck Norris.
Scientists have estimated that the energy given off during the Big Bang is roughly equal to 1CNRhK (Chuck Norris Roundhouse Kick)
Chuck Norris’ house has no doors, only walls that he walks through.
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could Chuck Norris? ...All of it.
When Chuck Norris talks, everybody listens. And dies.
While urinating, Chuck Norris is easily capable of welding titanium.
Chuck Norris invented black. In fact, he invented the entire spectrum of visible light. Except pink. Tom Cruise invented pink.
On his birthday, Chuck Norris randomly selects one lucky child to be thrown into the sun.
Little known medical fact: Chuck Norris invented the Caesarean section when he roundhouse-kicked his way out of his monther's womb.
There are no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, Chuck Norris lives in Oklahoma.There are no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, Chuck Norris lives in Oklahoma.
Chuck Norris once ate an entire bottle of sleeping pills. They made him blink.
Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.
It takes 14 puppeteers to make Chuck Norris smile, but only 2 to make him destroy an orphanage.

Scientific Truth in Product Warning Labels

(Stolen Without Permission from Journal of anillegiblycopiedtitle)*

WARNING: This product warps space and time in its vicinity.

WARNING: This product attracts every other piece of matter in the Universe, including the products of other manufacturers, with a force proportional to the product of the masses and inversely proportional to the square of the** distance between them.

CAUTION: The mass of this product contains the energy equivalent of 85 million tons of TNT per net ounce of weight.

HEALTH WARNING: Care should be taken when lifting this product, since its mass, and thus its weight, is dependent on its velocity relative to the user.

ADVISORY: There is an extremely small but nonzero chance that, through a process known as “tunneling,” this product may spontaneously disappear from its present location and reappear at any random place in the universe, including your neighbour’s domicile. The manufacturer will not be responsible for any damages or inconvenience that may result.

COMPONENT EQUIVALENCY NOTICE: The subatomic particles (electrons, protons, etc.) comprising this product are exactly the same in every measurable respect as those used in the products of other manufacturers, and no claim to the contrary may legitimately be expressed or implied.

CONSUMER NOTICE: Because of the “Uncertainty Principle,” it is impossible for the consumer to find out at the same time both precisely where this product is and how fast it is moving.

NOTE: The most fundamental particles in this product are held together by a “gluing” force about which little is currently known and whose adhesive power cannot therefore be permanently guaranteed.

ATTENTION: Despite any other listing of product contents found hereon, the consumer is advised that, in actuality, this produce consists of 99.999999999999% empty space.

HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE: This product contains minute electrically charged particles moving at velocities in excess of five hundred million miles per hour.

READ THIS BEFORE OPENING PACKAGE: According to certain suggested versions of a grand unified theory, the primary particles constituting this product may decay to nothingness within the next four hundred million years.

PUBLIC NOTICE AS REQUIRED BY LAW: Any use of this product, in any manner whatsoever, will increase the amount of disorder in the universe. Although no liability is implied herein, the consumer is warned that this process will ultimately lead to the heat death of the universe.

NEW GRAND UNIFIED THEORY DISCLAIMER: The manufacturer may technically be entitled to claim that this product is ten-dimensional^ legal rights above and beyond those applicable to three-dimensional objects, since the seven new dimensions are “rolled up” into such a small area that they cannot be detected.

IMPORTANT NOTICE TO PURCHASERS: The entire physical universe, including this product, may one day collapse back into an infinitesimally small space. Should another universe subsequently re-emerge, the existence of this product in that universe cannot be guaranteed.

PLEASE NOTE: Some quantum physics theories suggest that when the consumer is not directly observing this product, it may cease to exist or will exist only in a vague and undetermined state.

THIS IS A 100% MATTER PRODUCT: In the unlikely event that this merchandise should contact antimatter in any form, a catastrophic explosion will result.

* As if you couldn’t guess, I got this verbatim from somewhere else on the net. The Illegibly copied title wasn’t even in my handwriting, even though my handwriting is defined by its illegibility. Isn’t this great! I’ve put my own disclaimer on my disclaimer page regarding my disclaimer! Please don’t hit me!

Email Mistake (Very very funny)

An amazing true story about an e-mail gone wrong. Found the clipping in an American newspaper. Very very funny...

"A Minneapolis couple decided to go to Florida to thaw out during a particularly icy winter. They planned to stay in the same hotel where they spent their honeymoon 20 years earlier. Because of hectic schedules the husband left Minnesota and flew to Florida on Thursday, with his wife flying out the next day. The husband checked into the hotel. There was a computer in his room, so he decided to send an e-mail to his wife. However, he accidentally left one letter out in her e-mail address, and, without realising his error, sent the e-mail. Meanwhile, somewhere in Houston a widow had just returned home from her husbands funeral. He was a Minister who had a heart attack and died. The widow decided to check her e-mail, expecting messages from relatives and friends. After reading the first message she screamed and fainted. The widow´s son rushed into the room and and saw the computer screen which read:

To: My Loving Wife
Subject: I´ve arrived
Date: October 16th
I know your surprised to hear from me. They have computers here now and you are allowed to send e-mails to your loved ones. I have just arrived and have checked in. I see that everything has been prepared for your arrival tomorrow. Looking forward to seeing you then! Hope your journey will be uneventful as mine was.

P.S. It sure is freaking hot down here.

Pride is such a dirty word...

This manifest coming from someone that doesn't live in the 'new' South Africa (where the after-appartheid Laws protect and promote blacks, segregating the whites - a new form of apparteheid that seems not to bother the International Community, previously always very active in this matter!!!!!!), or in any other African country (where, at least, laws like the 'New Racist South African Laws' are not official....), is a genuine protest.

Makes for interesting reading and something to think about.

Proud to be White

Michael Richards makes his point!... ... ...

Michael Richards, better known as Kramer from TVs Seinfeld, makes a good point!

This was his defense speech in court after making racial comments in his comedy act. He makes some very interesting points...

'Someone finally said it. How many are actually paying attention to this?'

There are African Americans, Mexican Americans, Asian Americans, Arab Americans, etc. And then there are just Americans. You pass me on the street and sneer in my direction. You call me 'White boy,' 'Cracker,' 'Honkey,' 'Whitey,' 'Caveman'...

and that's OK.

But when I call you, Nigger, Kike, Towel head, Sand-nigger, Camel Jockey, Beaner, Gook, Chinkor or Kaffir (I added his one used in South Africa that, according to the new Law, is considered an offense punnished by the South African Law and that only means "any black African" - Collins English Dictionary)... You call me a racist.

You say that whites commit a lot of violence against you... So why are the ghettos the most dangerous places to live?

You have the 'United Negro College Fund'.

You have 'Martin Luther King Day'.

You have ' Black History Month'.

You have 'Cesar Chavez Day'.

You have 'Yom Hashoah'.

You have 'Ma'uled Al-Nabi'.

You have the 'NAACP'.

You have 'BET'!...

If we had 'WET' (White Entertainment Television), we'd be racists..

If we had a 'White Pride Day', you would call us racists.

If we had 'White History Month', we'd be racists.

If we had any organization for only whites to 'advance' OUR lives, we'd be racists.

We have a 'Hispanic Chamber of Commerce', a 'Black Chamber of Commerce', and then we just have the plain 'Chamber of Commerce'... Wonder who pays for that?

A white woman could not be in the 'Miss Black American' pageant, but any color can be in the 'Miss America' pageant.

If we had a college fund that only gave white students scholarships... You know we'd be racists.

There are over 60 openly proclaimed 'Black Colleges' in the US. Yet if there were any 'White College', that would be a racist college.

In the ' Million Man March', you believed that you were marching for your race and rights.

If we marched for our race and rights, you would call us racists.

You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you're not afraid to announce it.

But when we announce our white pride, you call us racists.

You rob us, carjack us, and shoot at us.

But, when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society, you call him a racist..

I am proud... But you call me a racist.

Why is it that only whites can be racists?’

Fuck You, PP! (Warning, this is a RANT)

Yeah that's right. This is a very long stupid fucking rant that we all hate so much. I'm not asking you to read it but you can if you'd like. This is more about venting than anything else. Whether you want to read it or not, just please don't ever get work for a British Financial Services company I worked for because they'll fuck you over. Anyway, on with my rant.


Dear PP,

Fuck you, you stupid, cocksucking, backstabbing, piece of shit company!

At first things were cool between us. I had work for maybe a year or so and boy did we have some good times within that year. Remember when my pc just wouldnt work and you gave me a new one and still it seemed slower than hell and then you bollocked me for not working fast enough??? DO you remember??? That was one of my fondest memories of the time we spent together. Remember how funny it was when I got pissed off and threw my keyboard across the office and all the keys flew out so that putting them back together in the right places was vertually impossible?? Yep, that's how I found out you guys fucked me over. We had such a good laugh about that one! What about the time you forced me to do those endless boring non sensicle company courses run by people who couldn't speak English properly in the first place, only to leave me totally baffled and confused by the whole course and wondering where I would start to translate your endless crap, because your company wont employ English natural ex-pats but Portuguese dickwads that think they know English only to make up their own words!!! Remember?? hahahaha I still laugh about that now. Or the time you "accidentally" erased all my information on my pc that was vital to the company like the endless drearly stats I had to complete every bloody day? Remember that one?

What about when you switched the company phones and non of them worked properly for about a week? And every time I called out to clients I was put through to some non understanding Portuguese person that spoke to me in their language that reminds me of Klingon... Though you and I both know I may live in Portugal but I'm clearly a white boy who can barely order food at a Mexican restaurant let alone understand whatever the hell they were saying? Yeah that was a good one. Everyone who called my phone either hung up without leaving a message or started their message with "Uhh, I don't know if this is you or not, because your speaking to me in a different language but hey .... blah blah blah..." Then when I called to switch it back, I wasn't able to because you answered with a Portuguese automated system. Haha, I think I was stuck with Portuguese for a week!
You always were such a prankster.

We had such a good relationship so I don't know why you're pulling this latest stunt. Perhaps it's because you're mad that I refused to go to another Pirate day Training to learn how to walk on a wooden leg and wear an eye patch whilst trying to build my own Pirates hat? Team building I think you called it? Bollocks I think I called it... Maybe it's just another one of your pranks? Maybe you miss me and just want to me to leave by giving some bullshit that my contract is over and that you cant ship me to another department because their are no vacancies only for me to find out a week after I left that your recruiting... HAHAHAHHAHAHA thats great! every time I'm forced to to talk about your company to the Union and the Workers Right Government Department it just makes me laugh out loud!!!! I don't know but I've tried to be reasonable about this.

I left the company a month before i was due because you kindly offered me full pay but that little prank of getting me out of the building and recruiting straight away after all the bullshit you gave me about we have no spaces is the best ever. You must've known I I'd just walk away quietly with not a care in the world not a care that I have a new born daughter and a nagging wife. Not a care indeed!!!!!!! Now every time I get a letter from the Union or the Worker Rights I just smile and think of all the good times. So its not the companies fault... Someone, and I know who you are; Hates me... Fine I did all I had to do and told to do and that still wasn't good enough eh? You actually wanted me to brown my nose and shove it so far up your big fat humongous eclipse of an arse, that I could see through your eyeballs uh?? Is that what you wanted me to do?? Well... It's not gonna happen girlfriend!!

Not only did I get a letter from the Union, I also got a call from a very nice lady from your company saying that basically my life is gonna get fucked up if I continue sending you emails. Hmpff yeah thats gonna happen!!! because of this and I basically have to go further and it will get worse. I gave you a call and of course we did our little dance that we always do where they tell me to call you and then you tell me to call them. This usually goes back and forth for a bit but this time I didn't feel like dancing. Now no one will answer my calls no one will respond to my emails. Ooooohhh you so funny. You comedian yes???

What. The. Fuck?

I'm sorry PP but this is complete bullshit. I have been cool and calm about all the shit you've pulled in the past few weeks and now I'm fed up. After all, a bloke can only take so much until he explodes. Why the hell didn't you tell me this shit in the first place? That my contract was over. good bye. ended! NO! you had to fuck me over and shut me up! Well its not gonna happen.

Yes, I'm being stupid and stubborn about this but I don't care. You've already fucked up my life so it doesn't really matter if I fuck your company over or not. It's not even about the money. It's about the point of the whole thing. I'm sick of you bullying people. Your cock sucking ways and your arse licking nature. Oh and your recruitment is bullshit. Only contracting gays on the other departments??? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ALL ABOUT!!!! Thats bullshit. And I refuse to get bullied. You can kiss my ass and then go fuck yourself, you bastards.

Sincerely,

Pariah

P.S. -2 Die Asshole

P.P.S. Faggots!!

office plans, dares and general crap

The Plan

In the beginning there was the Plan.

And then came the Assumptions.

And the Assumptions were without form.

And darkness was upon the face of the Workers.

And they spoke among themselves, saying, "It is a crock of shit, and it stinketh."

And the workers went unto their Supervisors and said, "It is a pail of dung, and none may abide the odour thereof."

And the Supervisors went unto their Managers, saying, "It is a container of excrement, and it is very strong, such that none may abide by it."

And the Managers went unto their Directors, saying, "It is a vessel of fertiliser, and none may abide its strength."

And the Directors spoke amongst themselves, saying one to another, "It contains that which aids plant growth, and it is very strong."

And the Directors then went onto the Vice Presidents, saying unto them, "It promotes growth and is very powerful."

And the Vice Presidents went unto the President, saying unto him, "This new plan will actively promote the growth and vigour of the company; with powerful effects."

And the President looked upon the Plan, and saw that it was good.

And the Plan became Policy.

This is How Shit Happens.



Special High Intensive Training

For best results, print this one out on company letterhead and send it on its way...

In order to assure the highest levels of quality work and productivity from employees, it will be our policy to keep all employees well rained through our program of SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (S.H.I.T.). We are trying to give employees more S.H.I.T. than anyone else.

If you feel that you do not receive your share of S.H.I.T. on the job, please see your manager. You will be immediately placed at the top of the S.H.I.T. list, and our managers are especially skilled at seeing that you get all the S.H.I.T. you can handle.

Employees who don't take S.H.I.T. will be placed in DEPARTMENTAL EMPLOYEE EVALUATION PROGRAMS (D.E.E.P.S.H.I.T.). Those who fail to take D.E.E.P.S.H.I.T. seriously will have to go to EMPLOYEE ATTITUDE TRAINING (E.A.T.S.H.I.T.). Since our managers took S.H.I.T. before they were promoted, they don't have to do S.H.I.T. anymore, and are full of S.H.I.T. already.

If you are full of S.H.I.T., you may be interested in job training others. We can add your name to our BASIC UNDERSTANDING LECTURE LIST (B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T.). Those who are full of B.U.L.L.S.H.I.T. will get S.H.I.T. jobs, and can apply for promotion to DIRECTOR of INTENSITY PROGRAMMING (D.I.P.S.H.I.T.).

If you have further questions, please direct them to our HEAD OF TRAINING, SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (H.O.T.S.H.I.T.).

Thank you,

BOSS IN GENERAL, SPECIAL HIGH INTENSITY TRAINING (B.I.G.S.H.I.T.)



Rules For Managers

Never give me work in the morning. Always wait until 4:00 and then bring it to me. The challenge of a deadline is refreshing.
If it's really a rush job, run in and interrupt me every 10 minutes to inquire how it's going. That helps. Even better, hover behind me, and advise me at every keystroke.
Always leave without telling anyone where you're going. It gives me a chance to be creative when someone asks where you are.
If my arms are full of papers, boxes, books, or supplies, don't open the door for me. I need to learn how to function as a paraplegic and opening doors with no arms is good training in case I should ever be injured and lose all use of my limbs.
If you give me more than one job to do, don't tell me which is priority. I am psychic.
Do your best to keep me late. I adore this office and really have nowhere to go or anything to do. I have no life beyond work.
If a job I do pleases you, keep it a secret. If that gets out, it could mean a promotion.
If you don't like my work, tell everyone. I like my name to be popular in conversations. I was born to be whipped.
If you have special instructions for a job, don't write them down. In fact, save them until the job is almost done. No use confusing me with useful information.
Never introduce me to the people you're with. I have no right to know anything. In the corporate food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.
Be nice to me only when the job I'm doing for you could really change your life and send you straight to manager's hell.
Tell me all your little problems. No one else has any and it's nice to know someone is less fortunate. I especially like the story about having to pay so many taxes on the bonus check you received for being such a good manager.
Wait until my yearly review and THEN tell me what my goals SHOULD have been. Give me a mediocre performance rating with a cost of living increase. I'm not here for the money anyway.

Classic things to say when stressed

"Okay, okay! I take it back. Unfuck you!!!"
"You say I'm a bitch like it's a bad thing?!"
"How many times do I have to flush before you go away?"
"Well this day was a total waste of make-up"
"Well aren't we a bloody ray of sunshine?"
"Don't bother me, I'm living happily ever after."
"Do I look like a fucking people person!"
"This isn't an office. It's HELL with fluorescent lighting"
"I started out with nothing still have most of it left"
"I pretend to work, they pretend to pay me"
"YOU!!... off my planet!!!"
"Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble plastic is cheap. You choose"
"Practice random acts of intelligence and senseless acts of self-control"
"Errors have been made. Others will be blamed"
"And your cry-baby, whiny-assed opinion would be.....?"
"I'm not crazy. I've been in a very bad mood for 30 years."
"Sarcasm is just one more service I offer."
"Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed"
"Do they ever shut up on your planet?"
"I'm not your type. I'm not inflatable"
"Stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you haven't gone to sleep yet"
"Back off!! You're standing in my aura."
"Don't worry. I forgot your name too."
"I just want revenge. Is that so wrong?"
"I work 45 hours a week to be this poor."
"Nice perfume. Must you marinate in it."
"Not all men are annoying. Some are dead."
"Wait...I'm trying to imagine you with a personality"
"Chaos, panic and disorder . . . my work here is done."
"Ambivalent? Well yes and no."
"You look like shit. Is that the style now?"
"Earth is full. Go home."
"Aw, did I step on your poor little bitty ego?"
"I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert."
"A hard-on doesn't count as personal growth."
"You are depriving some village of an idiot."
"If assholes could fly, this place would be an airport."


The Snake and the Bunny Once upon a time, allegedly, in a nice little forest, there lived an orphaned bunny and an orphaned snake. By a surprising coincidence, both were blind from birth.

One day, the bunny was hopping through the forest, and the snake was slithering through the forest, when the bunny tripped over the snake and fell down. This, of course, knocked the snake about quite a bit.

"Oh, my," said the bunny, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I've been blind since birth, so, I can't see where I'm going. In fact, since I'm also an orphan, I don't even know what I am."

"It's quite OK," replied the snake. "Actually, my story is much the same as yours. I, too, have been blind since birth, and also never knew my mother.

Tell you what, maybe I could slither all over you, and work out what you are, so at least you'll have that going for you.."

"Oh, that would be wonderful" replied the bunny.

So the snake slithered all over the bunny, and said, "Well, you're covered with soft fur; you have really long ears; your nose twitches; and you have a soft cottony tail. I'd say that you must be a bunny rabbit."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you," cried the bunny, in obvious excitement.

The bunny suggested to the snake, "Maybe I could feel you all over with my paw, and help you the same way that you've helped me."

So the bunny felt the snake all over, and remarked, "Well, you're smooth and slippery, and you have a forked tongue, no backbone and no balls. I'd say you must be either a team leader or possibly someone in senior management".



Office Dares

One-Point Dares

Ignore the first five people who say 'good morning' to you.
To signal the end of a conversation, clamp your hands over your ears and grimace.
Leave your fly open for one hour. If anyone points it out, say, "Sorry, I really prefer it this way".
Walk sideways to the photocopier.
While going in an elevator, gasp dramatically each time the doors open.
When in elevator with one other person, tap them on the shoulder and pretend it wasn't you.
Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy..."
Don't use any punctuation.
Interrupt your conversation with someone by giving a huge dejected sigh.
Use your highlighter pen on the computer screen.
Three-Point Dares
Say to your boss, "I like your style", wink, and shoot him with double-barreled fingers.
Kneel in front of the water cooler and drink directly from the nozzle.
Shout random numbers while someone is counting.
Every time you get an email, shout ''email''.
Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has got over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
Keep hole punching your finger. Each time you do, shout, "dagnamit, it's happened again!". Then do it again.
Introduce yourself to a new colleague as "the office bicycle". Then wink and pout.
Call I.T. helpdesk and tell them that you can't seem to access any pornography web sites.
Five-Point Dares
At the end of a meeting, suggest that, for once, it would be nice to conclude with the singing of the national anthem (extra points if you actually launch into it yourself).
Walk into a very busy person's office and while they watch you with growing irritation, turn the light switch on/off 10 times.
For an hour, refer to everyone you speak to as "Dave".
Announce to everyone in a meeting that you "really have to go do a number two".
When you've picked up a call, before speaking finish off some fake conversation with the words, ''she can abort it for all I care''.
After every sentence, say 'Mon' in a really bad Jamaican accent. As in: "The report's on your desk, Mon." Keep this up for one hour.
In a meeting or crowded situation, slap your forehead repeatedly and mutter, "Shut up, damn it, all of you just shut up!"
At lunchtime, get down on your knees and announce, "As God is my witness,I'll never go hungry again!"
Repeat the following conversation 10 times to the same person: "Do you hear that?" "What?" "Never mind, it's gone now."
Present meeting attendees with a cup of coffee and biscuit; smash each biscuit with your fist.
During the course of a meeting, slowly edge your chair towards the door.
As often as possible, skip rather than walk.
Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.
Sign or p.p. all letters with your initials and a swastika.
Dry hump the photocopier. When someone spots you, stop and cough embarrassingly, then lean in to the machine and whisper loudly, "I'll see you tonight".

Dedication to my daughter...

A constant smile spread across her face, scheaming, planning, almost laughing and giggling like a little prankster. Just like her old man. Yet most give me this weird look when I say that my fifteen day old daughter is one of my heroes.

They don't understand the meaning or reasoning behind my words, nor will they ever.

She bruises & bleeds with such ease, her blood counts a never-ending roller coaster.
The constant sick then healthy. She died at birth and they brought her to life. The world was against her, everyone apart from myself, my wife and God.

Every day I go to the hospital to see my little Angel. Where I often stand there for hours just staring at her through an incubator.

For hours on end...
Just waiting...
Watching...

Before finally she opens her big blue eyes and stares right at me, watching, planning, deciding who that strange figure is that keeps turning up everyday.

Watching...
Waiting...

Whenever I look at her, nothing but Love, Hope & Faith shine through my silver eyes
onto this little child whom is so much stronger than I.

I know she's only days old, but I feel as if we could learn so much from each other.
About life and love itself.

Who would have thought she would have pulled through?

Only myself, my wife and God...

Nicole

24th July 2008:

In Amadora/Sintra at exacly 16:27 my little girl was born. Premature by about a month and a half and as heavy as a bag of sugar, Nicole opened her big blue eyes and took a plunge into this dangerous world. So small, so tiny and so light she fought against all the odds that were stacked up against her and is now breathing on her own. Many times the doctors would say that she wouldn't make it through the night. Many times they would tell us to go home and not come back in the morning because it was a lost cause and many times we returned and saw her little face. She's stable now, every day is a battle for her and every day she fights on breaking records and all the odds. So tiny, so innocent, so sad... I've stayed strong for my wife and cried alone, wondering the streets at night thinking if little Nicky would still be alive in the morning. Life is hard that way. One day your on top of the world looking out for yourself and the next your at rock bottom crying over a baby that you don't really know.

Sad, exhausted.

But she's fine now, born a Lion and fighting like one. Although she still has to be in an incubator she still struggles with fist clenched battling every day and every outcome she's part of my pack, my blood and for everyday she pulls through is every 100 years I will be beside her, fight for her, care and protect...

Fight on little nicky, fight on 'cos daddy loves you...

Old People rant.

So this rant is old, (so old in fact that back when i wrote it I used to be a Paramedic!!! , yep that long ago!!!!) but something I have been wanting to write about for a while now...


It's a fact of life. The older you are, the funnier you smell. Everyone remembers wrinkling their nose at the occasional malodorous burst that your grandfather would emit from his recliner. We all have that one Great-Aunt who never quite got the message that bathing in lilac perfume not only didn't make her attractive, but was also socially inappropriate at funerals and baptisms.

Eventually though we're all going to reach the age when our ol'factory abilities are no longer quite up to snuff, and then we too will join the ranks of the Funny-Smelling-Old-People. In the hopes of brightening the lives of all of the various and theoretical individuals who will be involved in caring for us though, let me offer a few ground rules that I've thought up during the course of my intensive studies of the aged human.

Rule Number 1:
If you piss yourself, change your garments and/or bed sheets immediately. If unable to fulfill this task immediately alert your caretaker to the problem. If caretaker is a lazy fatass in a nursing home, threaten to cut some bacon off that bitch's ass if she doesn't get you some new drawers.

This may seem like a no-brainer, but when you have no brain (quite literally, as the Alzheimer's disease has put millions of little holes through yours) you might need a little reminder now and then. This is a bigger problem with little old men than with little old women. These 80+ year old gentlemen have worn the same pair of tighty-whities since Churchill was smoking cigars and fending off Nazis, and by God you're not going to change that habit now. True, the tighty-whities would now be more appropriately called tighty-yellowies, tighty-brownies, or tighty-WHAT THE FUCKies, but the stench of old ball sweat, urine, and last weeks nursing home brand chili-con-carne is appealing and soothing to the most ancient of men.

All the same- fellas, change it up every now and then. If for no other reason than to spare the young paramedic who's come to pick you up off the floor the overpowering stench of your manly musk. The gentleman I used to pick up off the floor had been on a "Nothing but asparagus, and garlic" diet for about a week based on the incredible odour that was released every time he spread his sizeable thighs.

Rule Number 2:
If you have a colostomy bag, wear it. ALWAYS.

According to Wikipedia, a colostomy is "a surgical procedure that involves connecting a part of the colon onto the anterior abdominal wall, leaving the patient with an opening on the abdomen called a stoma. This opening is formed from the end of the large intestine drawn out through the incision and sutured to the skin. After a colostomy, feces leave the patient's body through the stoma, and collect in a pouch attached to the patient's abdomen which is changed when necessary."

I don't know how much more detail I need to go into on this one. The implications of not following my rather simple directive are obviously severe, but sadly it's a problem that millions, if not billions of people face everyday. At least it seems that way to me. Letting shit literally run down your entire body, including into the open, gangrenous wound on your foot is just bad form. There's nothing at all Christian about doing that. As a matter of fact, didn't Jesus say "Thou shalt not let shit run down thy body", or something like that? I'm pretty sure I read that in Gastrocnemius 13:4.

Of course if you do let all of this happen to you, you're probably crazy enough to latch onto the railing of the staircase with your old-lady claw hands, and contort yourself into an ungodly position. And did you just manage to get your head stuck between two of the support posts for the railing? You did? Good. Time to call the Fire Department.

Rule Number 3:
Do not, at any time, place your nasty old-lady hands anywhere near the paramedic's genitals.

"Ma'am, with all due respect- please stop cupping my balls. I don't care if I do look like a guy you fucked in 1928" Yeah, I'd hoped to make it to at least 40 before I had to use that line, but unfortunately my chosen profession will afford me no such luxury. This rule doesn't have as much to do with terrible smells as the others, but it's still an important announcement for the geriatric population. Once you top 60 (and I'm being generous there) it is imperative to the psychological well-being of those around you that you adopt a perfectly asexual lifestyle. IMPERATIVE. To the younger folks reading this: work hard in school, and develop the anti-Viagra. Work hard to pass a law requiring all old folks to take said pill.

Rule Number 4:
Ladies, take care of your teats. Everyone likes British Cheese- nobody likes Boob Cheese.

There is nothing worse than boob cheese. It ruins my days, and haunts my dreams. It stalks me in my nightmares- sneaking up behind me all curdled and smelling like a septic tank with a yeast infection. It's a known fact that failing to lift up your titties and clean underneath (especially if they hang to your knees) will result in the spontaneous formation of boob cheese. Now before you get all spiritual and assume this is some sort of divine creation of new life let me assure you that if I didn't was parts of my body all sorts of little creepy crawlies would grow there too, and I'd have no part in their creation.

Now many of you may be wondering why I'm dealing with old lady funbags in the first place. Well sadly enough a few years ago they decided that paramedics were intelligent enough to apply a few stickers to a patient's chest, look at a few wavy lines on an ECG, and determine whether or not someone was having a heart attack. This would be a good thing, if placing some of those stickers didn't require diving into the heart of darkness that is the underside of a 94 year old woman's 37lb breast that you have to start lifting from below her shin. I kid you not; this woman was scratching her left nipple with her big toe.

So there you have it. Rules for not smelling terrible in your old age, and for making the life of your medical care provider that much better. Oh, and really, no matter how bad they smell old ladies are still sweet as can be.

Paper Vs Rock

I understand how scissors can beat paper and i get how a rock can beat scissors, but there's no fucking way paper can beat rock. Is paper supposed to magically wrap around rock and leave it immobile? Screw scissors, why can't paper do this to people? Why aren't sheets of college ruled notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they take notes in class? I'll tell you why, because paper can't beat anybody!!! A rock would tear that shit up in two seconds. When i play rock, paper scissors, i always play rock. Then when somebody claims to have beaten me with paper i can punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say:
"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I thought paper would protect you, you asshole!!!