A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in
the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories.
After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them
to disperse and hold their meeting elsewhere. "But why?" they asked, as
they moved off.
"Because," he said, "I can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open
foyer."
A woman has twins and gives them up for adoption.
One of themgoes to a family in Egypt and is named "Ahmal."
The other goes to afamily in Spain; they name him "Juan."
Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his birth mother.
Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wishes she
also had a picture of Ahmal.
Her husband responds, "Hey, they're twins! If you've seen Juan, you've
seen Ahmal."
Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which
produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet.
He also drank no alcohol and ate very little, which made him rather
frail.
Plus, with his odd diet,he suffered from bad breath. This made him...
what?...
A sober, callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis!
Sent by F
Teacher Arrested
At New York's Kennedy Airport today, an individual later discovered to
be a public school teacher was arrested trying to board a flight while
in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a set square, a slide rule and
a calculator.
At a morning press conference, Attorney general John Ashcroft said he
believes the man is a member of the notorious al-Gebra movement. He is
being charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction.
"Al-Gebra is a fearsome cult," Ashcroft said. "They desire average
solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in
search of absolute value. They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y'
and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we have determined they
belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates
in every country. As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say,
'there are 3 sides to every triangle'."
When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said, "If God had
wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, He would have
given us more fingers and toes."
Sent by Jax
The Cost of a child!
The government recently calculated the cost of raising a child from
birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for a middle-income family. Talk
about sticker shock. That doesn't even touch college tuition.
For those of us with kids, that figure leads to wild fantasies about
all the things we could have bought, all the places we could have
traveled, and all the money we could have banked.
For others, that number might confirm the decision to remain childless.
But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down.
It translates into $8,896.66 a year, $741.38 a month or $171.08 a week.
That's a mere $24.44 a day. Just over a dollar an hour.
Still, you might think the best financial advice says don't have
children if you want to be rich. However, the opposite is true. There's
no way to put a price tag on:
Feeling a new life move for the first time and seeing the bump of a
knee rippling across your skin.
Having someone cry, "It's a boy!" or shout, "It's a girl!" then hearing
the baby wail and knowing all that matters is it's healthy.
Counting all 10 fingers and toes for the first time.
Feeling the warmth of fat cheeks against your breast.
Cupping an entire head in the palm of your hand.
Making out da da or ma ma from all the cooing and gurgling.
What do you get for your $160,140?
Naming rights. First, middle and last.
Giggles under the covers every night.
More love than your heart can hold.
Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.
Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.
A hand to hold, usually covered with jam.
A partner for blowing bubbles, flying kites, building sand castles, and
skipping down the sidewalk in the pouring rain.
Someone to laugh yourself silly with no matter what the boss said or
how your stocks performed that day.
Moreover, for $160,140, you never have to grow up.
You get to finger-paint, carve pumpkins, play hide-and-seek, catch
lightning bugs, and never stop believing in Santa Claus.
You have an excuse to keep reading the adventures of Piglet and Pooh,
watching Saturday morning cartoons, going to Disney movies and wishing
on stars.
You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator
magnets
and collect spray-painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set
in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's
Day.
For $160,140, there's no greater bang for your buck.
You get to be a hero just for retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof,
taking the training wheels off the bike, removing a sliver, filling the
wading pool, coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball
team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless.
You get a front-row seat to history to witness the first step, first
word, first bra, first date, first time behind the wheel.
You get to be immortal. You get another branch added to your family
tree,
and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary called
grandchildren.
You get an education in psychology, nursing, criminal justice,
communications, and human sexuality no college can match.
Author Unknown
The Cracked Pot
A water bearer in India had two large pots, one hung on each end of a
pole which he carried across his neck.
One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect
and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long
walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived
only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering
only one and a half pots full of water to his master's house.
Of course, theperfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to
the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of
its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only
half of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke
to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and
I want to apologize to you.
"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my
load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way
back to your master's house.
Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get
full value from your efforts," the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his
compassionhe said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to
notice the beautiful flowers along the path."
Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of
the sun warming the beautiful wild
flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it somewhat.
But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked
out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its
failure.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers
only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side?
That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took
advantage of it.
I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we
walk back from the stream, you've watered them.
For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to
decorate my master's table.
Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty
to grace his house."
The moral of this story- Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all
cracked pots.
In this world, nothing goes to waste.
You may think like the cracked pot that you are inefficient or useless
in certain areas of
your life, but somehow these flaws can turn out to be a blessing in
disguise."
Sent by T.
Logico deductivism in Thermodynamics
The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington
chemistry midterm. The answer by one student was so "profound" that the
professor shared it with colleagues via the Internet, which is of
course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well.
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic
(absorbs heat)?
Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law,
(gas cools off when it expands and heats up when it is compressed) or
some variant.
One student, however, wrote the following:
First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we
need to know the rate that souls are moving into Hell and the rate they
are leaving.
I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it
will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.
As for how many souls are entering Hell, lets look at the different
Religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state
that if You are not a member of their religion you will go to Hell.
Since there are More than one of these religions and since people do
not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go
to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the
number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially.
Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because
Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in
Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately
as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:
1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls
enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase
until all Hell breaks loose.
2. Of course, if Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase
of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until
Hell freezes over. So which is it?
If we accept the postulate given to me by Ms.
Teresa Banyan during my Freshman year, "...that it will be a cold day
in Hell before I sleep with you.", and take into account the fact that
I still have not succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then #2
cannot be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and will not
freeze.
The student received the only "A" given.
Sent by J.D.
The Big Rocks and The Jar
A high school science teacher wanted to demonstrate a concept to his
students. He takes a large-mouth jar and places several large rocks in
it. He then asks the class, "Is it full?
"Unanimously, the class reply, "Yes!"
The teacher then takes a bucket of gravel and pours it into the jar.
The small rocks settle into the spaces between the big rocks.
He then asks the class, "Is it full?"
This time there are some students holding back, but most reply, "Yes!"
The teacher then produces a large can of sand and proceeds to pour it
into the jar. The sand fills up the spaces between the gravel.
For the third time, the teacher asks, "Is it full?
"Now most of the students are wary of answering, but again, many reply,
"Yes!"
Then the teacher brings out a pitcher of water and pours it into the
jar. The water saturates the sand. At this point the teacher asks the
class, "What is the point of this demonstration?"
One bright young student raises his hand and then responds, "No matter
how full one's schedule is in life, he can always squeeze in more
things!"
"No," replies the teacher, "The point is that unless you first place
the big rocks into the jar, you are never going to get them in. The big
rocks are the important things in your life ...your family, your
friends, your personal growth. If you fill your life with small things,
as demonstrated by the gravel, the sand, and the water...you will never
have the time for the important things.
So, what are the "Big Rocks" in your life? Spending time with your
children, your parents or your spouse? Taking the seminar or class to
get the information and perspective you need to succeed? Making the
time to set goals, plan or evaluate your progress? When you are hassled
because there is no time, remember the story about the Big Rocks and
the Jar!
Author Unknown
The Best Teacher Ever
There is a story from many years ago of a primary school teacher. Her
name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade
class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie.
Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved
them all the same.
But that was impossible because there in the front row, slumped in his
seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he
didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy
and that he constantly needed a bath. And, Teddy could be unpleasant.
It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in
marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then
putting a big "F" at the top of his papers. At the school where Mrs.
Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records
and she put Teddy's off until last.
However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise, Teddy's
first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh.
He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be
around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well
liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a
terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on
him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest
and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't
show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and
sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of
herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas
presents, wrapped in beautiful paper and tied with pretty ribbons,
except for Teddy's. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the
heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other
presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a
rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that
was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's
laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on,
and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed
after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today
you smelled just like my mom used to."
After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very
day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead
she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with
him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the
faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of
the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would
love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's
pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her
that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote
that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still
the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things
had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and
would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured
Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever
had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he
explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a
little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and
favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer -
the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that
spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He
explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was
wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the
wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of
course Mrs. Thompson did.
And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several
rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that
Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's
ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much
for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a
difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said,
"Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I
could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
Author Unknown
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