Friday, February 24, 2006

Cute web randomness

From Wikinews:
I was sitting on a beach one summer day, watching two children, a boy and a girl, playing in the sand.

They were hard at work building an elaborate sandcastle by the water's edge with gates and towers and moats and internal passages. Just when they had nearly finished their project, a big wave came along and knocked it down, reducing it to a heap of wet sand.

I expected the children to burst into tears, devastated by what had happened to all their hard work. But they surprised me. Instead, they ran up the shore away from the water, laughing and holding hands, and sat down to build another castle.

I realized that they had taught me an important lesson. All the things in our lives, all the complicated structures we spend so much time and energy creating, are built on sand.

Only our relationships to other people endure. Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody's hand to hold will be able to laugh.


This was on a Wikinews user page -- I thought it was rather cute.

Is this the new Coke flavor (Blue Raspberry)?


I found this on digg -- apparently a new flavor of Coke! Cool! I'm a big fan of raspberry.



read more | digg story

Thursday, February 23, 2006

What is love?

"Love is friendship set on fire." - unknown


I dunno what to think, really. She's charming, very intelligent, a solid Christian, well read, a great conversationalist, and my mental twin on so many levels. In short, she's the perfect friend... but...

What's more, I'm jello when she smiles at me. My heart does strange palpitations when she begins speaking. I'm perfectly satisfied to simply sit quietly next to her and feel her warmth.

Am I in love? I don't know. Am I enchanted? Certainly. Do I know what to do or where this is going? You must be kidding -- I'm lost!

And now... I probably won't see her this weekend. What am I to do?



A story from Dyer

A random story from Dyer...
When the late Mr. John Stockton was a young boy (probably 8 or 9) he had a boxer dog which he walked daily around downtown Dyer. Behind the Farmers and Merchants Bank there was a "liars bench" where the old men sat and swapped stories and gossiped. As John was passing the liars bench with his dog on one of those long-gone (even in the smallest town) quiet and sleepy traffic-free days, one of the old men stuck his cane among the legs of the dog and John almost tripping them. As they stumbled, the old man said, "Hey John, does that dog eat sh*t?" John recovered quickly and said, "Yes sir, but I'll try to hold him while you get away!" John's father was the town night marshal and so was sleeping. John knew he was in trouble -- as he returned quickly home, he could hear the phone ringing inside his house and his father answering, "He did what!?!?! JOOOOOHN." They say that as John's father "whupped" him, he told him that he being punished not because of what he had said, but rather, because of the disrespect he'd shown the old man. Justice was sure and swift in a small town in the old days, no?