When a man barbecues

When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:

(1) The woman buys the food.

(2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert

(3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is chatting with his mates with beer in hand.

(4) The man places the meat on the grill

(5) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.

(6) The woman comes out, looks at the meat and tells the man discretely that the meat is just about ready. He thanks her and asks if she will bring out another beer while he deals with the situation.

(7) The man takes the meat off the grill and hands it to the woman.

(8) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces, and brings them to the table.

(9) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

(10) Everyone praises the man and thanks him for his cooking efforts.

(11) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed 'her day off' and, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women....

Replacing Quasimodo

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry toegin the screening process.

After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day. Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job.

The bishop was incredulous."You have no arms!" "No matter," said the man. "Observe!" And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.

But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below. The stunned bishop rushed to his side.

When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.

As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who was this man?""I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied "but his face rings a bell.

"WAIT! WAIT! There's more …

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

The first man to approach him said, "Your excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty."

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.

Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side. "What has happened? Who is this man?" the first monk asked breathlessly."I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but....

(Wait for it …)… He's a dead ringer for his brother."

Diary of a Repossession

Elizabeth, 54, a clerical officer, has been married to Paul, 50, a businessman, for 24 years, and they have two children, Daniel, 23, and Adam, 21, who live with them.

Their luxury £400,000 four-bedroom house in North Frodingham, East Yorkshire, was repossessed by HBOS in September. Now, saddled with tens of thousands in debts, they are living in a rented two-bedroom holiday cottage. This is Elizabeth's diary of despair. . .

MARCH 2006
We're throwing a party to celebrate the completion of our new £20,000 bespoke wooden kitchen and my father's 90th birthday. As I prepare food for 35 guests on our range cooker and sunshine floods in through the French doors, I can't help feeling proud.

It's been seven years since we moved to Richmond House, and since then we've completely redecorated. Now, with its four double bedrooms, two bathrooms (complete with roll-top baths with claw feet), large conservatory, utility room, office, and garaging for two cars, it is our perfect family home.

I'll never forget the day in 1999 that Paul came home and said he'd seen the house advertised for sale. He was so excited he wanted me to see it straight away - and as we peered over the fence into the acre of formal gardens with two ponds, we both fell in love with it.

Two days later, our offer of £159,500 was accepted, and within a week we'd found a buyer for our old house. A couple of months later, we moved in.

APRIL 2006
House prices are rising fast and both Paul and I think investing in a buy-to-let property is a good idea. Paul wants to retire at 60 and believes we need to make the next ten years really work for us in terms of earning money. He's always worked hard.

Until 2004, he had a senior position in a printing company, earning £65,000 a year. Then two years ago, in 2004, he set up a successful business supplying pre-paid phone cards. Now, that company is running itself and, to add to our savings, he wants to take on a new challenge.

We remortgage Richmond House to raise the £60,000 deposit and secure a low-rate mortgage on a £110,000 two-bedroom terrace. We're in it for the long term, planning to sell in ten years when the price will have gone up even more. There's a tenant already in it, and the rent easily covers the mortgage.

Meanwhile, to add to his business, Paul is on the lookout for a new company to buy.

MAY 2006
Exciting news. Paul and a business partner have found a printing company to buy. It's on the market for £700,000. It sounds a lot of money, but the turnover is £1.3million a year and it already employs 22 staff.

Together with some other investors, some savings and a loan guaranteed on our family home, he and his partner raise a £350,000 deposit to put down. The rest of the £350,000 business loan will be paid off monthly from the company profits.

I'm not worried, as I trust Paul's judgment completely - after all, he's been a high earner paying 40 per cent tax since he was 27, and he's never let us down.

Paul buys a new BMW Z4 plus a small Rover for our younger son Adam, who's joining him in the new business. That weekend we take both the boys out to a restaurant for a celebratory dinner.

AUGUST 2006
PAUL has been coming home very stressed. The reality is starting to emerge that the business simply isn't what we thought it was. Bills have been arriving - some for tens of thousands of pounds.

Paul's hardly drawing any salary at all. Even our savings are going into the business to pay the staff and these unexpected bills.

With a decreased income - we have only my £500-a-month salary - and our own outgoings to pay (the £1,900-a-month mortgage on Richmond House and the domestic bills such as food), we are dipping deeply into savings. We can only hope that these are teething problems and they won't last long.

I am economising as much as possible, but our overdraft is increasing. Gone are the days of food shopping in M&S; now I am bargain-hunting in Morrisons. But even if I go full time, my salary just isn't enough to stretch to paying all our bills, which are spiralling out of control.

SEPTEMBER 2006 I have come to dread opening the post. Today a gas and electricity bill for £700 arrived.

Our son Daniel, who manages a garden centre, has paid off some of it. Paul rang the utility company and it has said we can pay the rest off at £50 a month. But without any money coming in, it is a struggle to pay even that.

OCTOBER 2006
Every morning, I wake up feeling sick that for the first time in our lives we are struggling financially.

Paul and I find talking about the situation so upsetting that some nights we just sit in the lounge in a strained silence. Adam and Daniel are both withdrawn: they know how bad the situation is and constantly offer us money, even paying for the weekly food shop.

I can't help worrying that soon we won't be able to pay the mortgage and we could lose our home.

Every time I look out of the French doors at our beautiful garden, I can feel tears welling up at our situation. I remember how the boys loved this garden when we first moved here (we filled it with badminton and football nets, a trampoline and climbing frames). The thought that, ultimately, we could end up losing it is unthinkable.

NOVEMBER 2006 Paul seeks advice from the Bankruptcy Advisory Service Limited (BAS). Bankruptcy seems such a drastic step and we really hope it won't come to that, but the phone is constantly ringing with people asking us for money and we can't carry on on our own any longer.
The ray of hope is that they discuss with our creditors at the business paying bills in instalments. Only we won't know until January if this is acceptable.

DECEMBER 2006 A subdued Christmas. We gave our sons their usual present of a £150 cheque each, but they haven't cashed them.

Hanging over our heads is the worry that we could still be facing ruin. If we can convince the creditors to agree to our arrangements to pay in January, then we can continue trading, and Paul is convinced he can still turn things around. If not, we don't know what we'll do.

We hear the news we've longed for: the business can continue trading. Paul and I are so relieved that we go out for a meal - paid for on a credit card. It's the first time we've been out for months.

FEBRUARY 2007
Orders are slowly coming in, but not fast enough - Paul and I are still scratching around for money. Our credit card debt alone is approaching £50,000 and we are falling behind on those repayments.

I can't help thinking how just a year ago we were going out for meals, having people over for dinner and I would think nothing of buying a bottle of wine. Now I can barely afford a haircut.

MARCH 2007
I wake in the middle of the night to find Paul poring over bank statements, and I'm knotted inside with worry.

Despite the rent coming in, we're finding it hard to pay for the upkeep on our buy-to-let. We will have to sell it. Fortunately, the boys decide to buy it from us and manage to secure a joint mortgage.

I'm relieved and pleased for them as we still feel property is a good investment.

JUNE 2007
Disaster. Just as we think we are finally climbing out of the nightmare and the business is beginning to turn around, floods sweep through Hull.

It even makes the national news. Our business isn't flooded, but lots of our customers have been and the order book takes a massive tumble as they cancel jobs.

The property also has a large garden, but Halifax has reduced its asking price from £400,000 to just £260,000

JULY 2007
The newspapers are full of the American credit crunch and saying that banks here are facing liquidity problems. Houses aren't selling so well, either.

I am wondering how thinly I can slice a small chicken to share between all four of us when Paul comes home to tell me the company's finished and he's been advised to take bankruptcy. This means he also has to relinquish his holding in the pre-pay phone card business.

I sink down in a kitchen chair, head in my hands, shattered at the news.

AUGUST 2007
Paul comes home white-faced after making all the staff redundant, including our son Adam. Our BMW and Adam's car are returned. Paul has tried so hard and I don't want him to see how desperately upset I am, but I can't help but cry at the news.

SEPTEMBER 2007
Paul is talking of getting another job, but just as we are discussing it, news of the Northern Rock crash fills the papers.

With no money coming in, Paul and I agree we have to sell the house. An estate agent values it at £400,000 and, heartbreakingly, it goes on the market.

NOVEMBER 2007
Another blow. Paul has been to see if he qualifies for any benefits, but despite the fact that he has paid so much in tax for all these years, as he was self-employed he hardly qualifies for any help at all. It seems that to get benefits in this country you need to have never worked.

He's been sending off job application forms, but nothing has come in. Mortgage rates are rising and our mortgage payments are £2,400 per month, but we can hardly afford to eat.

We write to the bank saying we cannot afford to pay it this month, offering them £500 a month instead and telling them the house is up for sale. A year ago defaulting would have been unthinkable, but we have no choice.

DECEMBER 2007
We rely on handouts from friends and family and go through the motions of Christmas: I prepare a turkey dinner as usual, but there are no presents this year.

The estate agent rings to say can we drop our asking price by £20,000? We refuse. We need every penny.

JANUARY 2008
On January 14, Paul is officially declared bankrupt and our original company goes into liquidation, too. Although we knew it was coming, and friends know the reality of it, the shame of it is still terrible.

We have heard nothing from the bank. We hope this is good news, as it knows we are trying to sell our home.

MARCH 2008
I am shaking as I read the letter from the bank saying it is seeking repossession in June.
We are now desperate to sell, but with the onset of the credit crunch there are no viewings. Our estate agent says it isn't only us, the whole housing market is grinding to a halt.

Meanwhile, Paul has been to see East Riding Council to see if we would be eligible for council housing but, shockingly, it has only bed and breakfast available.

APRIL 2008
The BAS writes to the bank on our behalf with the offer from a friend to pay £500 a month on the mortgage until the house is sold. But the bank says the only way to stop the repossession is to pay off all the arrears in a lump sum - a staggering £50,000 (the amount that's built up ever since we have not been able to pay the monthly payment in full), including fees and accrued interest.

We phone to discuss it, but the bank asks us to hand over the keys. We refuse because we still hope to sell.

MAY 2008
Paul goes to court to get an extension of time to enable us to find somewhere to live, staving off the eviction until September. Hope rises that there is still a way out of this.

JUNE 2008
Misery everywhere with talk of the credit crunch. No viewings, no offers. And no job offers for Paul, either. A friend has offered to pay for us to rent a nearby two-bedroom holiday cottage and to put our furniture into storage. It's so kind that I am close to tears again.

AUGUST 2008
We can't face the bailiffs. The weekend before the eviction, we post the keys back to the bank.
Our sons will have to share a room in the holiday cottage, but they make the best of it, joking that it's like a childhood adventure.

Clearing out my hand-made kitchen cupboards as we prepare to leave, I am suddenly overwhelmed by tears. We try to keep things in perspective - worse things could happen - but the truth is we have lost everything.

Looking around the cottage, it seems so cramped in comparison to what we have just left. It's the end of an era and the future looms ahead, terrifyingly uncertain.

SEPTEMBER 3, 2008
'Our' house is officially repossessed. When we leave, I can't look back because I feel so sad and lonely.

OCTOBER 2008
Incredibly, the nightmare isn't over. The amount we now owe on our mortgage has leapt from £250,000 to £330,000 because of repossession fees.

Worse, for a quick sale HBOS has reduced the asking price to just £260,000.

Devastatingly, this would leave a shortfall of around £70,000 to pay back. We thought having our house repossessed was the end of it, but we were terribly wrong.

The only good news is that as Paul did nothing illegal, his bankruptcy has been lifted early. But he'll find getting credit almost impossible.

NOVEMBER 2008
We are reeling with anger. HBOS has accepted an offer of just £255,000 for Richmond House. We can't believe how uncaring it is to sell the house for such a ridiculous price.

The revelation that after all this we still owe £80,000 to the bank in the run-up to Christmas - and they can bankrupt me, too, to get it - sends us back into despair.

It has been a truly hellish year - though thousands of other families have been living through the same ordeal - and there is no doubt this Christmas will be the bleakest of our lives.

Comments (361)
Here's what readers have had to say so far.

Although i feel for the emotive side for the people involved, these people perhaps should have though a bit more clearly before splashing out on £20k kitchens, bespoke conservatories and bathrooms. They brought the house for £159k yet to state that HBOS is ‘uncaring’ and it is ridiculous that they accepted £255k is a joke and extremely naïve. What did these people expect that the housing market would be some magical Charlie and the Choclate factory of house price increases. They live near Hull! They must have obviously done a monster equity withdrawl on it to fund the businessand extras and gambled massively and were foolhardy to do so. You can blame people’s ignorance when it came to the housing market and their naïve faith in Brown but ultimately it is not an individual’s error it is the error of an entire generation in thinking they can make a mint out of property and use it to fund their unrealistic lifestyles when the money they gamble it all on was not real!
- Austin, Harrogate, 26/11/2008 11:44

Sorry but as much as I feel for these people they are not victims of the credit crunch - they are victims of themselves. The took on way too much leverage. The media has to stop helping people blame the banks - no one forces anyone to borrow. - CB, United States, 26/11/2008 0:19 Totally agree with CB!!!
- Lisa, London, UK., 26/11/2008 11:39

I think you have had loads of bad advice and that has helped to make a bad situation worse. But there is light at the end of the tunnel and you become more compassionate with other people, it is a lesson learnt the hard way and look on the bright side, you have some one who is helping in providing a roof over your head, Our family totally decked us out when we fell on hard times due to two business failures, they even told us to sell our house and they haven't spoken to us since - no loss.
- dunbar, UK, 26/11/2008 11:38

Source: The Daily Mail

Gordon Ramsay Cartoon

Japanese man living in airport terminal

Hiroshi Nohara doesn't know why he's been sleeping rough in Terminal 2 of the Benito Jurarez International Airport in Mexico City for the past 3 months but he doesn't have any plans to leave.

At first he was frightening people and the Japanese embassy was asked to investigate why the smelly man wouldn't move on but his visa is valid and doesn't expire until early March so he has a legal right to be there.

It seems he's enjoying his celebrity status and is happy to give television interviews and pose for photographs with tourists. He sleeps on a chair and survives on food provided by strangers and various stalls holders.

Meanwhile his appearance continues to deteriorate and he smells like a man who hasn't washed for months. An airport janitor said he was a calm person who just sat in the food hall all day and ate.

He said the Tom Hanks movie "The Terminal" was not his inspiration.

Aboriginal Child Crisis

There are now a staggering 4000 Aboriginal children in foster care in New South Wales, compared to 1000 when the Aboriginal Welfare Board was abolished in 1969. Black children are being removed at 10 times the rate of white children.

Amanda Bridge, chairwoman of the Aboriginal Child, Family and Community Care State Secretariat, said: "It's more than were taken in the Stolen Generation."

About half the indigenous children in NSW live close by with a grandmother or great-grandmother. These foster parents are known as kinship carers and receive a tax-free allowance which does not affect other commonwealth entitlements. Aboriginal organisations are advertising for more foster carers as the need becomes greater.

The NSW Minister Linda Burney is herself part Aboriginal and was raised in a home without parents. The daughter of a white mother and black father, she wasn't aware of her Aboriginal heritage and didn't meet her father until she was 28. She realizes the need to keep Aboriginal children near their country or the lands of their ancestors and to be placed with their own people.

Gordon Ramsay the dirty love rat

Gordon Ramsay, the foul mouthed Hell’s Kitchen chef who seems proud of his family-man image has been having an affair for seven years with Sarah Symonds, author of the book Having an Affair? A Handbook For The Other Woman.





Jeffrey Archer, a former British politician and famous author was also involved with Symonds and she first made headlines when their affair was discovered in 2001.








This week, Symonds and Ramsay met for sex at a London hotel where they stayed for 75 minutes. Before joining him at the hotel, Symonds went to Soho and bought the legal sex drug amyl nitrate.



Ramsay and his devoted wife Tana have four children. His father-in-law Chris Hutcheson plays a major part in the business operations of Ramsay’s restaurant empire.


On the surface Symonds tries to suggest that her book will empower women and set them free from the sad life of being a mistress but she goes on to give this advice to women who aren’t very good in the kitchen. “Aim to practice some extra special sexual techniques in the bedroom afterwards. He will soon forget the absence of that bouquet garni in your coq au vin. Trust me!”




I think we get the gist. Come on Mrs. Ramsay, let’s see what you’re made of.

When you thought I wasn't looking

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you hang my first painting on the fridge and I wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make my favourite cake for me and I learned that the little things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you close your eyes and say a prayer and I learned about faith.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make a meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned about giving.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw how you handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good so I learned what responsibility means.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt but it's alright to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw that you cared for me and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking I learned most of life's lessons that I need to know to be a decent person when I grow up.

Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking.

Author Unknown

The Seed

If seeds could think, the one that fell into the builder's yard must have thought itself really unlucky.


It had drifted down through chain link fencing, perhaps rolling off angle iron struts. Eventually it landed on the rubble and rubbish strewn soil - under two discarded metal gates, each of which would have needed two strong men to put them there.


What chance did it have? What could grow under all that iron and debris? It should have given up.


Instead it tried. It grew. A little shoot not big enough to move any of the rubbish on top of it, so it grew around it. But surely those great heavy gates would stop its efforts coming to anything.


But it grew some more. It found spaces, grew through them, grew around them, and joined up on the other side of them. It kept going.


Now there's a twelve foot tree in that space. Metal struts are trapped inside it's trunk and wires run through its branches but now it's the gates that are stuck. They've been lifted off the ground but they can't be moved, they have become part of the tree.


The gates can only be seen now because it's winter, but in the summer the branches of the tree fill their little corner of the yard and all you can see is swaying greenery.


The little seed kept on trying, even though the soil seemed barren and the obstacles seemed too great. It grew in the most inhospitable place and never gave up until eventually the people who said it would never happen looked at the tree and were amazed.

Who's going to change the tyre?

Canada says obese need two seats on airline

Obese people have won the right to take up two seats for the price of one on flights within Canada, thanks to their Supreme Court.

They have ruled that people who are "funcionally disabled by obesity" deserve to have two seats for one fare. Room for an attendant during the flight or access for a wheelchair is considered necessary.

Law Professor Linda McKay-Panos, who is herself clinically obese, has been fighting for the rights of obese travellers since she was charged for one and a half seats on a 1997 Air Canada flight.

I wonder if other airlines will follow Canada's lead, I doubt it.

Holocaust never happened, says Fredrik Toben

Toben with former Ambassador to Australia Tom Schiefer

Australian Fredrik Toben, the man who denies the Holocaust ever happened has won his battle with the German Government to extradite him from Britain.

The Germans appealed against a British court's refusal to exradite him to Germany after he was arrested at Heathrow Airport on October 1 for racism. Holocaust denial is a crime in Germany which carries a jail sentence of up to five years. The German lawyers wanted him extradited so he could be put on trial for posting anti-Semitic material on the internet between 2000 and 2004 in Australia, Germany and other countries.

But Westminster Magistrates Court district judge Daphne Wickham ruled there were only "sparse" details about Dr Toben's offences, in other words, there was not enough evidence to support the extradition and agreed with Toben's lawyers that the arrest warrant was fatally flawed.

However, after granting Dr Toben bail, the judge laid down a set of strict conditions. He must pay 100,000 pouds cash as security, he must live at at an address approved by authorities, report daily to the police, not use the internet, speak to the media or attend any public meetings.

Is this sufficient punishment for an insane man spreading hatred at every opportunity, I don't think so.

Depressed Parrot on Prozac

An African Grey parrot called Fred became very depressed after his owner George Dance died nine months ago, he just couldn't figure out where George had gone.

He was so distressed, he bit all his neck feathers off and bobbed his head up and down all day. So a liquid dose of a bird-friendly version of Prozac, called Clomical, twice a day has put him back on his perch.

It seems that tropical birds are very emotional and the number needing anti-depressants is rising.

Kidman and Jackman in Premiere of Australia

The People of Kununurra were disappointed by an apparent snub from the film’s producers to screen the premiere of the new movie Australia in locations where the movie was filmed – Sydney, Darwin and Bowen in Queensland, but not Kununurra, which plays a prominent part in the movie.

But Twentieth Century Fox Film Distributors announced they would hold a special Kununurra invite-only screening of the film in their own open air cinema. It’s the wet season now in Kununurra and the only cinema available was an outdoor one.

People from the town and surrounding areas who played a part in making the film were invited to the screening, as well as local Aboriginal elders and traditional owners of the land. They were among the first people in the world to see the film.

Back in Sydney, Nicole braves the rain on the red carpet.

It seems that an unknown 12 year old boy from Broome, Brandon Walters has stolen the show. He received an enthusiastic welcome and loud applause at a news conference yesterday. When approached about the part, he had never heard of Nicole Kidman. He plays Nullah, a half caste boy living on the cattle property Faraway Downs and was picked from a pool of 1000 boys.

Brandon's mother, Janie Wright, told reporters the family was not worried about his future. "If it does become a problem for him, we'll just go out bush, get away from it all. Now he's at school, he's happy and never stops talking. The film made him confident. He's no longer shy."

Christmas in tight this year

My dear friends and family,


Somewhat embarrassing to admit, I'm not getting an annual bonus and Christmas is tight this year. I will be making bedroom slippers for you all as gifts. Please let me know your sizes. You'll most likely agree that it's a splendid idea, and should you wish to do the same, I've included the instructions below.

How to make bedroom slippers out of maxi pads: You need four maxi pads to make a pair. Two of them get laid out flat, for the foot part. The other two wrap around the toe area to form the top. Tape or glue each side of the top pieces to the bottom of the foot part. Decorate the tops with whatever you desire, silk flowers (this is most aesthetically appealing), etc.

These slippers are:

* Soft and Hygienic
* Non-slip grip strips on the soles
* Built in deodorant feature keeps feet smelling fresh
* No more bending over to mop up spills
* Disposable and biodegradable
* Environmentally safe *


Three convenient sizes: (1.) Regular, (2.) Light and (3.) Get out the Sand Bags.


I've attached a photo of the first pair I made so that you can see the nifty slippers for yourself.... Awaiting your response. It's crucial that I get the right size for each one of you.

Police Dog Max

Max, a nine year old Springer Spaniel used to work for the Avon and Somerset Police Force searching for drugs.

When he developed hip dysplasia and arthritis, the police charity had a set of wheels made for him.

His new owner, Inspector Anne Higgins from Tiverton, Devon, said he loves running around in the leaves.

“He can get up a lot of speed and sometimes it’s hard to keep up with him”, she said

Two Prawns

One day, in the shark-infested waters of the Caribbean, two prawns called Justin and Christian are discussing the pressures of being a preyed upon prawn.

"I hate being a prawn," says Justin. "I wish I were a shark."

Suddenly, a mysterious cod appears. "Your wish is granted," he says. Instantly, Justin becomes a shark. Horrified, Christian swims away, afraid his former friend might eat him.

As time passes, Christian continues to avoid Justin, leaving the shrimp-turned-maneater lonely and frustrated. So when he bumps into the cod again, he begs the mysterious fish to change him back. Lo and behold, Justin is turned back into a prawn.

With tears of joy in his tiny little eyes, he swims back to the reef to seek out Christian.

As he approaches, he shouts out: "It's me, Justin, your old friend. I've changed and I found cod, I'm a prawn again Christian."

Hedge trader dad behaving badly

Simon Sywak and wife on South Coast of New South Wales

When London hedge trader Simon Sywak decided he didn’t want to continue paying child maintenance for his two boys anymore, he told a British court the unlikely story that he was broke, unemployed and was going to train as a bus driver.

Helen and Simon Sywak married in Sydney in 1997

His ex wife Helen smelled a rat at once, she knew him too well, he would never give up his luxurious lifestyle so she hired a private investigator. After a long chase he’s been found now living near Bega on the South Coast of New South Wales with his new wife, former English spin bowler Phil Tufnell’s ex wife Alison Tuffnell who has admitted to working as an escort.

Allison Tuffnell

"From the time I received the application, I was suspicious. An ex-prostitute wouldn't marry someone who was about to lose his job and Simon was far too good a trader to remain jobless." Helen said.

Rumours in financial circles and on specialist banking websites helped trace him to Australia in June, although his exact whereabouts have not been known until now.


Sydney born Mr Sywak is suing Westpac for a $1.3 million sign-on bonus he said he was promised but not paid. He said in a statement of claim filed in the Federal Court late last week that Westpac promised him the sum to compensate for a $2 million bonus he would have been entitled to had he stayed in his previous job with the banking broker JP Morgan in Singapore. He left Singapore after his ex wife Helen’s investigator tracked him down.


It seems Mr Sywak is a clever cookie. In the claim presented to the court it states that in the course of his career, Mr Sywak had developed a “methodology and principles” which allowed him to achieve a high level of success trading financial derivatives worldwide.



Helen Sywak

His claim states that Westpac made misleading representations about the sign-on bonus - that it would be denied only if he undertook illegal trading activity such as fraud. He argues he lost his job because of “personal affairs” which did not affect the “discharge of his professional duties”.

Despite being caught, he continued to refuse to pay maintenance for his two boys and not only brazened it out for several months but continued a court case against his former wife in the hope that delays would bankrupt her.

Why do fathers who can well afford it, deny their children a happy, secure future by withholding funds, they seem to stop caring about them as soon as they leave the marriage.

The Petrodollar Scam

I got an interesting email in my mailbox today called 'The Petrodollar Scam'. There's nothing on Snopes about it and I've traced the source, I think, back to Ravi Kumar at mouthshut.com, a 32 year old IT worker from New Delhi. I found it so interesting, I have reproduced it in its entirety below. Is there anyone out there who can shed some light on this theory?


Back in 1971, the USA printed and spent far more paper money than it could cover by gold.Few years later, French demanded redemption of its paper-dollar holdings in gold. But the USA rejected as it actually didn't had enough gold for the dollars it had already printed and spent all over the world, thus committing an act of bankruptcy.

So the USA went to the Saudis and cut a deal – OPEC denominate all sales of oil in US dollars.From that point, every nation that needed to buy oil had to firstly hold US dollars, which meant that they exchanged their goods and services for dollars, which the Americans just printed.

The Americans brought their oil literally for free by printing those dollars. The ultimate free lunch for the Americans at the expense of the rest of the world.However, the scam began to unravel when Saddam Hussein started selling Iraq's oil directly for Euro, abrogating the cozy arrangement the Americans had with OPEC.

Thus Saddam had to be stopped. How? USA concocted up a pretext to wage war (drama of twin tower blast) and invade Iraq and the first thing the Americans did was to revert sales of oil back to dollars. The currency crisis was averted for the moment.

But Hugo Chavez (Venezuela President) also started selling Venezuelan oil for currencies other than dollars, so there were a number of attempts on his life and "regime change", traceable right back to the CIA. The petrodollar cat was out of the bag.

Iran President (Ahmedinejad), watching all of this, decided to kick The Great Satan in the goolies and do the same thing - sell oil for every currency EXCEPT US dollars.

The shell game is coming to an end for the Americans. As the nations of the world find that they can buy oil for their own currencies instead of holding paper US dollars, more OPEC nations will abandon the dollar.

The worst thing for the Americans is that eventually, they will also have to buy their oil with Euro or Rubles instead of just printing paper money to get it. That will be the end of the American Empire, the end of funding for the US military and the destruction of the US economy.

The great scam is coming to an end and there's not a lot that the USA can do about it, except start another world war! Wait and Watch… Only few years/months ahead. Dont believe this ... Just Google it !!!

Miracle or Hoax?

David Murray, a journalist at the Telegraph in Sydney went to Medjugorje in Bosnia in October, and witnessed dozens of tour buses arriving filled with pilgrims from the USA, Ireland and the Philippines, eager to visit one of the world’s most famous shrines. More than one million Catholics, including Australians, are estimated to visit the site every year.

Six children claimed on the 24th June 1981 they saw a vision of Mary holding a baby in her arms. She appeared again the following day and has since visited 40,000 times and delivered numerous messages.

The church was packed by the time the main 11am mass was underway and thousands more of the faithful sat on benches outside and listened to the service broadcast over loudspeakers. An English language mass followed immediately after with 10 priests officiating at the altar.

Marian Breheny said with tears in her eyes said “Our son committed suicide, that’s why we’re here”, she says. Marian and her husband had just been to Sunday mass. They’ve been coming to Medjugorje from Ireland for three years now, ever since their son Stephen 22 hung himself in his bedroom. They say they find peace here.

But the Pope has suspended the priest Father Tomislay Vlasic, the former spiritual advisor to the children, after accusations of scandalous sexual immorality were brought against him. One of the allegations suggested he had fathered a child with a nun.

He has also been accused of ‘the diffusion of dubious doctrine, manipulation of consciences, suspected mysticism and disobedience towards legitimately issued orders’, and is suspected of heresy and schism.

Even though the Vatican has banned pilgrimages to the site, it makes no difference, the pilgrims keep coming.

Cynics are calling the transformation of the little town the “Madonna gold rush’. Some local supporters have grown very wealthy, now owning executive houses, immaculate gardens, double garages and security gates. They also own expensive cars and have married – one of them, Ivan Dragicevic, to an American former beauty queen.”

Kevin Rudd's Foot in Mouth

A private telephone conversation between Kevin Rudd and President Bush which was leaked to the media continues to haunt the Prime Minister. It was reported in The Australian newspaper that Kevin Rudd was stunned to hear the President ask “What’s the G20?”

Mr Rudd refuses to comment on the incident, which only adds fuel to the fire.

Kevin Rudd and his wife spent most of the 1980s overseas posted at the Australian embassies in Stockholm, Sweden and later in Beijing. This makes me wonder how a man who is so experienced in diplomatic relations, could make such an damaging remark.

As President Bush and the G20 world leaders meet today to discuss the current financial crises, I hope he has the common sense to raise the incident with the President and apologise for any embarrassment caused.

Manly, my favourite Sydney beach

Manly is my favourite Sydney beach. In the past, it was the idyllic beach holiday experience for generations of rural Australians, now it’s an exclusive suburb of Sydney but still a favourite place for Sydneysiders to visit.

Every Sunday, people come in from the suburbs to Circular Quay and take a 40 minute ferry ride and cross the harbour to Manly. The older generation can usually be seen eating their fish and chips on benches along the waterfront while others prefer to lunch at one of the many restaurants and pubs.

It was one of the first places in Australia to get a name. Soon after his arrival in Sydney Harbour in 1788, Governor Arthur Phillip began exploring the harbour in search of fresh water.

Passing near Manly, a group of unarmed Aboriginal men waded into the water to greet Phillip's small boats. Impressed with their stature and bearing, Phillip is recorded describing them as 'manly', and the name stuck.

I took these photos at the beginning of Spring when everyone was still a lighter shade of pale, coming out of our winter.

Death of an Irish Rose

Devoted Catholics, Maggie Ward and her husband Charles had 15 children. Yesterday, her 172 grandchildren and her surviving 12 children all came together for the first time to pay their last respects at her funeral.

Daughter Anne Hudson said 'She would never forget a birthday and got everyone a present at Christmas. She bought presents all year round - she would go to markets to get gifts so she could afford something for everyone.

'She was tough but she had to be to keep us all in line. She was very proud of her family.'

She added: 'My mother came from a family of nine and my father a family of 14 - we have a history of huge families. I only have three children myself but some of my brothers and sisters have 10, 11 or even more.

At the ceremony in Salford, every one of her 172 grandchildren let off a balloon in her memory. They had travelled from Manchester, Birmingham and Ireland to be there.

Mrs Ward was originally from Galway, Ireland and moved to Salford UK in 1963.

Her coffin and the two grey horses pulling the hearse were draped in the Irish flag.

The Kingdom of Yahweh

Now it seems we have another cult on the horizon but unlike Hubbard’s Scientology declaring themselves a church which enables them to receive millions of tax free donations, this one doesn’t call itself a religion but a school. Although American in origin, it has turned up in the most unlikely place – Melbourne, Australia.

Members are driving around Melbourne in uninsured and unregistered vehicles and are suspected of hoarding unregistered weapons.

They insist that because of their beliefs, they are not required to pay for a driver’s license or to register their motor vehicle and disregard the fact that you need a license to own and possess a gun.

So the bottom line is we have a lot of nut cases driving around on Victorian roads without registration or insurance, and likely to be carrying a gun.

They are in fact a complete mystery, they don’t associate themselves with any terrorist movement and don’t preach violence.

Police Inspector McDonald said "They have their own interesting view of the world, they actually regard themselves as quite law-abiding, it's just that they don't accept the sovereignty of the parliament as you or I would,'' he said. From the literature:

"The Kingdom of Yahweh . . . .

. . . at the present time, does not fully include the Earth. This is only because Yahweh has allowed Satan (source of human nature) to have temporary control over the Earth. This is not to say that YHWH has no power over the Earth and / or all of His Creation. YHWH's power and Authority are Supreme, but YHWH Himself has limited His Kingdom (not His Power) to the Heavens beyond the Earth for now.

However, when the Sabbath Millennium begins and Messiah Yahshua (not Christ) joins the others (First Fruit or Chosen Few) resurrected from their corruptible bodies in and on the Earth, then will YHWH's Kingdom be established "On the Earth," and Messiah Yahshua and Yahweh's Chosen Few (Elect or First Fruits) will reign for a thousand years.

After the thousand years are up, Satan (human nature) will (once again) be released from his spiritual prison (to tempt mankind once again) for a short 100 year period; then the "Great White Throne Judgment" will occur."

Confused? Me too.

Is he the reincarnation of Buddha?

This 18 year old shows no sign of starvation or dehydration, yet it’s believed he has been meditating for many months, sitting under a tree with his eyes closed, not moving, without food or water. He came forward to meet his thousands of followers in the jungles of Ratanpur, about 160km south at Katmandu.

The followers of Ram Bahadur Bamjam believe he is the reincarnation of Buddha and he blessed his devotees on Wednesday with a light tap on the head, considered to be the touch of the devine.

A Buddhist priest said Bamjan was expected to address his followers on November 18 and then disappear into the jungle again for meditation.

But not everyone is convinced. Several Buddhist scholars say that Bamjan is not the reincarnation of Siddhartha Gautama who was born in south western Nepal roughly 2,500 years ago and became revered as the Buddha, or Enlightened One.

"Being Buddha means the last birth and the highest level that can be achieved. There can be no reincarnation of Buddha, even though Buddhists believe in life after death," said Rakesh, a Buddhist scholar in Kathmandu who goes by only one name.

"Meditating without food does not prove that he is the reincarnation of Buddha," said Min Bahadur Shakya of the Nagarjuna Institute of Exact Methods, a Buddhist research centre in Kathmandu. "There is much study needed to be done."

But his followers are totally convinced of his divinity. "I have no doubt in my mind he is a God," said Meg Bahadur Lama, a local farmer. "He has been meditating without food and water and no human can achieve such a feat. I used to hear about such miracles in the past but now I got to see one."

Buddhism has about 325 million followers, mostly in Asia and teaches that every soul is recincarnated after death in another bodily form.

Rememberance Day - The Final Inspection

May the sun shine down on you on Rememberance Day, the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.





For our soldiers all over the world


THE FINAL INSPECTION

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.



"Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"



The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.



I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.



But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills got just too steep.



And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.



I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.



If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.



There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.



"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets;
You've done your time in Hell."



~Author Unknown~

Profile of a Suicide Bomber

Yesterday a thirteen year old girl became the youngest suicide bomber in Iraq when she killed herself and 5 Iraqi guards. I wondered why a young girl, with her whole life ahead of her, would do this, it simply defies logic. So I looked around the Internet and found ‘Profile of a Suicide Bomber’ on an Israeli website which reads as follows, I'm assuming this information is correct:

The majority of terrorists committing these types of attacks come from modern radical Islamic groups. They refer to the death of the suicide bomber as "astashad" – the death of a holy one – man or woman – in the name of Allah. The act of suicide bombing is called "Amaliya Astashadiya" – an act of self-sacrifice. And the "battlefields" on which these "warriors" fight are Israeli population centers – soft targets such as malls, restaurants, markets, and buses; any public place that is crowded.

It should be noted that "Amaliya Astashadiya" is a modern term not found in any classic Islamic literature. It's a term common today in Palestinian society and the wider Arab world. The suicide bomber enjoys prestige and respect that comes from the courage he's showing by undertaking a mission of certain death. This modern aspect gives terrorism Islamic (religious) legitimacy.

The shahid according to classical Islam receives many rewards. He wins eternal life and is saved from judgment day. He is granted mercy for all his sins and can recommend 70 of his relatives to join him in heaven. The greatest reward, however, is the promise of "72 black-eyed virgins." In keeping with this promise, Palestinian posters proclaiming the heroism of the terrorist after his attack, refer to the suicide bombing as a wedding. The terrorist is portrayed as a groom walking to his wedding with songs and dancing…..on his way, of course, to join 72 virgins.

For female suicide bombers the reward is slightly different. They are granted the honor of marrying a shahid in heaven.

I wondered about her mother, was she aware of her plan, did she give birth to this child knowing that some day she might grow up to murder people and die at thirteen years of age? I refuse to believe it. I prefer to think the mother is so dominated by her husband and her male relatives she had no control over her daughter's future.

Will there ever be an end to the hatred.

Costly One Night Stand

Ken Rodgers had an alcohol fuelled one night stand in 1993 with a girl he hardly knew. When he was later named as the father, despite never seeing the mother again, he did the right thing and provided financial support to the boy of up to $200 a week through the Child Support Agency. In ten years, he had paid out $71000.

Mr Rogers, a 38 year old aircraft mechanical engineer said "I was no scumbag. I grew up in a decent family and we took these things seriously."

Despite his regular payments, he became frustrated with the mother's attitude to him meeting his son, always having an excuse and constantly moving around the country, she wouldn't even give him a photograph of the boy.

So in 2006 he got a stay order on his payments which infuriated the mother and after many threats and protests, he asked for a DNA test. Needless to say, he was not the father.

In 2007, in a hearing in the Federal Magistrate's Court, he obtained an order for $60,000 to be repaid under Section 143 of the Child Support (Assessment) Act 1989 but he learned that the mother was a Centrelink client and is only required to pay $12.70 a fortnight. "I estimate that at this rate it will take me 233 years to get it all back, he said.

Now married with a family of his own, he is very bitter that he could never afford to buy his own home and now it's too late.

Honesty

Contractor Bob Kitts was tearing walls out of a bathroom in an 83 year old house in Lake Erie, Cleveland in 2006 when he discovdered two green metal cashboxes hanging from a wire, suspended inside a wall.

Inside were white envelopes with the return address for "P. Dunne News Agency." Inside the envelopes was $US182,000 in old currency. Patrick Dunne was a wealthy businessman who stashed the money around the 1930’s Great Depression.

But Bob Kitts and homeowner Amanda Reece couldn’t agree on how to split the money.
She offered 10 per cent.

He wanted 40 per cent, then the twenty one descendants of Patrick Dunne got involved and they all wanted a share.

By then there was little left to claim.

"If these two individuals had sat down and resolved their disputes and divided the money, the heirs would have had no knowledge of it," said lawyer Gid Marcinkevicius, who represents the Dunne estate.

Kitts is often asked why he didn't keep his mouth shut and pocket the money. He says “I wasn’t raised that way.”

Ebony and Ivory

Irish Pubs

Irish pubs are in trouble. With ‘no smoking’ bans and the fear of being sprung by the cops on the way home for being over the limit, Irish men and women these days are staying at home. Thirty Irish country pubs are closing down every month and for those still standing, desperate measures are being taken to provide meals and huge plasma TV’s, hoping to get the punters in.

Turtle Bunbury is a best-selling author, award-winning travel writer and historical consultant based in Ireland. He is the author, with James Fennell of The Irish Pub.

Here are some of his musings about the disappearance of the Irish Pub.

He writes

Let's fast-forward to 2050, when a granddaughter sits me down and asks what made a good country pub. This is what I will say: "Sweetheart, back in the old days a good country pub was a place where you could gather your senses and then let them go again. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, the floor as dark as coal. We'd sit on mismatched chairs, perhaps by an open fire, and let the banter roll.

"Giddy fiddles and rattling tongues would light the darkest shadows as we dug in deep and lit the night and forgot about the morrows. Along the bar, perched high on stools, toothless old men, both genius and fool, guffawing and snoring and drinking too much, supping stouts and gold whiskeys instead of their lunch."

And she will probably wonder what could have been remotely charming about being in a confined space with large numbers of drink-sozzled, chain-smoking old codgers. It'll be a hard one to sell.

But there are many who will understand the magic and allure of these endangered establishments. The towns and cities are weathering the revolution better than the remote country pubs. The drinker is always at ease when the bed is just a walk away. God gave us pubs to get away from it all. But if a new age of country pubs is necessary, I pray it is not comprised solely of charmless venues rumbling with ear-splittingly bad music, giant plasma screens showing matches between soccer clubs I've never heard of and bar staff who scowl.

Modern Ireland is a multicultural, technologically advanced, cash-hungry whirlpool. The once dominant Catholic Church is all but redundant and many of the old institutions have gone with it. The Irish pub may survive the meltdown but many will disappear in the process.

What a shame.

Free Range Chickens

I can understand why the chickens on Caplor Farm in the UK are getting sick and dying. The free range chooks are terrified of hot air balloons that hiss and hover over their heads, sometimes as low as 60 feet. When they run away in a panic, they bang into each other and crush their un-hatched eggs inside them which causes a fatal infection.

Farmer Miss Vincent-Lloyd 32, has lost 30 of her 300 chickens at her farm in the Wyre Valley, Herefordshire.

Miss Vincent-Lloyd said: 'When the chickens see the balloon they go crazy, they think it's a giant monster coming to eat them.

'We have some very rare breeds on the farm and we are proud that the hens have a free run, so this has been devastating.

'The flights began in the summer and we started finding dead hens in the weeks afterwards.”
A vet found they died from peritonitis, an inflammation of the membrane which covers organs in the abdomen.

But the story ends happily, the balloon company has instructed their pilots to steer clear of the birds’ field in future.

Brokenhearted Pony

Mini-Moo (front) and Minty

Mrs Gibbons, 65, who owns the Tamar Valley Donkey Park in Cornwell, UK said that a 25 year old, one eyed Shetland pony named Minty was distraught and heartbroken when his long time companion Lulu died earlier this year. He kept whinnying for her and was overcome with grief.

They tried to get him interested in some of the donkeys at the park but he just wasn’t interested.

Then they had the idea of looking for a new friend on the Internet and found Mini-Moo, a 5 year old miniature Shetland.

'Minty is a different pony all of a sudden. He immediately stopped moping and moaning. It was amazing - a match made in heaven.' said Mrs Gibbons.

Despite the age difference, the pair are now inseparable.

Ku Klux Klan no joke

A rookie Richmond cop voluntarily resigned on Wednesday. He was stupid enough to be photographed standing next to a man dressed in a KKK costume at a Holloween party.

Ben Murdoch, 27, dressed as a rock star, was standing with a man in a white sheet and they had their arms raised in what appeared to be a Nazi salute. He didn't have the Klansman's hood on so his face was clearly visible, what a twit.

Photos were quickly sent to his superiors. He said he was "sad that he had done anything to affect the image of the Richmond Police Department."

Be very careful what you say and do in the near future, a new age has dawned and things will never be quite the same again.

Obama will pull nuclear trigger

Barack Obama will win the November election and one of his first acts as president will be to launch a nuclear attack on Iran.

That chilling warning was issued more than 50 years ago by Helen Duncan, who was imprisoned for witchcraft and espionage during World War II for revealing the destruction of a British Navy ship the government wanted to keep under wraps.

Duncan was a Scottish housewife and mother of six who had the uncanny ability to make dead people materialize before the eyes of their loved ones.

Although she had become a confidante of British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Duncan fell foul of authorities when she materialized a sailor who had drowned when the battleship HMS Barnham sank, an event the British government was trying to conceal from the public.

Duncan was convicted under the ancient Witchcraft Act and sentenced to jail for nine months. After her release she continued to work as a medium and made startlingly accurate predictions about future wars, including Korea, Vietnam and Iraq.

Shortly before her death in 1956, Duncan prophesised that "a black man" would become President of the United States in the 2008 election and within a month of his inauguration in January 2009, would order a nuclear strike against Iran.

She foresaw that Iran's secret nuclear program would be far more advanced than the world would realize" says Duncan's biographer, Madeline Powers.

"She predicted that early in 2009, Iran would launch an atomic weapon against Israel and that the new American President - she even knew his name - would be forced to retaliate in kind.

"Her precise words were: "President Obama will pull the nuclear trigger'.

"The U.S response would bring the world to the brink of all-out nuclear war but that ultimate catastrophe would be narrowly avoided by last-minute diplomacy iniated by America."

Source: Now That's Weird

Klu Klux Klan endorses Obama? No Way

The fake picture

When I read an email today saying that the Klu Klux Klan were endorsing Barack Obama, I couldn't believe my eyes. Even the doctored picture looks authentic.

The article said in a nut shell that they would support Obama because anyone is better than having that "crazy ass bitch" as President, referring to Hillary Clinton.

But those naughty Brits have been at it again. The British so called "newspaper" that originated the article is the 'Squib' which describes itself as "a satirical publication that should therefore not be taken too fu**ing seriously."

Thanks to Snopes, we now know the truth.




The real picture