<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:38:25.983-08:00</updated><category term='managers'/><category term='childhood'/><category term='life struggles'/><category term='sex legend'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='adversity'/><category term='wedding'/><category term='heaven'/><category term='pinoy love affair'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='inspirational anecdote'/><category term='hug'/><category term='art'/><category term='reliable realist'/><category term='negativity'/><category term='hell'/><category term='forgiveness'/><category term='time management'/><category term='freedom'/><category term='perception'/><category term='regrets'/><category term='values'/><category term='wealth'/><category term='resource management'/><category term='personality'/><category term='tips'/><category term='thoughts'/><category term='inner strenght'/><category term='ambition'/><category term='wala lang'/><category term='work'/><category term='humor'/><category term='fidelity'/><category term='hinanakit'/><category term='one hand clapping'/><category term='resignation'/><category term='peace'/><category term='Filipino Family'/><category term='business motivation'/><category term='inday'/><category term='helping others'/><category term='God'/><category term='old age'/><category term='customer service'/><category term='success'/><category term='overcoming hardship'/><category term='forwarded e-mail'/><category term='accepting change'/><category term='love of god'/><category term='housemaid'/><category term='Filipino Abroad'/><category term='chemistry'/><category term='philosophy'/><category term='blindness'/><category term='Filipino Catholics'/><category term='trials'/><category term='pessimist'/><category term='consistency'/><category term='forrest gump'/><category term='belief'/><category term='patience'/><category term='sacrifice'/><category term='life lesson'/><category term='choices'/><category term='husband'/><category term='inspirational poem'/><category term='yodz insigne'/><category term='balanced lifestyle'/><category term='inspirational story'/><category term='letting go'/><category term='love'/><category term='pessimism'/><category term='Spratly Island'/><category term='Filipina'/><category term='alamat'/><category term='30 years old'/><category term='after sex'/><category term='embrace'/><category term='setting priorities'/><category term='random e-mail'/><category term='doubt'/><category term='pride'/><category term='Filipina Domestic Helper'/><category term='Family'/><category term='retirement'/><category term='mind mastery'/><category term='inspirational qoute'/><category term='change'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='contentment'/><category term='right attitude'/><category term='opportunity'/><category term='the son'/><category term='sex'/><category term='being happy'/><category term='human flaw'/><category term='good and evil'/><category term='Dan Torres'/><category term='other self'/><category term='math symmetry'/><category term='blessing'/><category term='computer'/><category term='mouse trap'/><category term='zen'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='attitude'/><category term='chip tsao'/><category term='focus'/><category term='sharing'/><category term='exam'/><category term='atheist'/><category term='miracle'/><category term='love of nature'/><category term='family values'/><category term='positive thinking'/><category term='kalokohan'/><category term='bikol'/><category term='financial crisis'/><category term='human interaction'/><category term='politics'/><category term='love of work'/><category term='Family Centeredness'/><category term='collective work'/><category term='Filipino Culture'/><category term='giving'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='TNT'/><category term='living life'/><category term='wife'/><category term='ego'/><category term='compassion'/><category term='fault finding'/><category term='destiny'/><category term='life'/><category term='Dr. Yodz'/><category term='parents'/><category term='daddy'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='kindness'/><category term='optimism'/><category term='religion'/><category term='mathematics'/><category term='joke'/><category term='men'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='adult life'/><category term='selfless love'/><category term='yodz'/><category term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>Reverent Sardonicsm</title><subtitle type='html'>Observing and loving the idiosyncrasies of humankind</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-8690341620220934008</id><published>2009-11-14T01:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T01:44:23.089-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forgiveness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human interaction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other self'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>Sand and Stone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sv573H5H8RI/AAAAAAAAA58/VdiwqCMP8iI/s1600-h/friendship_struggle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sv573H5H8RI/AAAAAAAAA58/VdiwqCMP8iI/s320/friendship_struggle.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The one who got slappedwas hurt, but without saying anything, wrote the sand: “TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one, who had been slapped, got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but friend saved him. After the friend recovered from the near drowning, he wrote a stone: “TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, “After I hurt you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?” The other friend replied: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;“When someone hurts us, we should write it down in where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-8690341620220934008?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/8690341620220934008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/11/sand-and-stone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8690341620220934008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8690341620220934008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/11/sand-and-stone.html' title='Sand and Stone'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sv573H5H8RI/AAAAAAAAA58/VdiwqCMP8iI/s72-c/friendship_struggle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1068149342908593038</id><published>2009-11-12T16:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T16:37:47.097-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wealth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family values'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Wealth, Success or Love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SvyqLq5tJGI/AAAAAAAAA50/GOa1ruNsuFg/s1600-h/powerofsuccess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SvyqLq5tJGI/AAAAAAAAA50/GOa1ruNsuFg/s320/powerofsuccess.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;She did not recognize them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;She said "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"Is the man of the house home?" they asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"No", she replied. "He's out."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"Then we cannot come in", they replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"Go tell them I am home and invite them in!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The woman went out and invited the men in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"We do not go into a house together," they replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"Why is that?" she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth," he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, "He is Success, and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The woman went in and told her husband what was said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!!" he said. "Since that's the case, let's invite&amp;nbsp; Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Their daughter was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"Let us heed our daughter's advice," said the husband to his wife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;"Go out and invite Love to be our guest."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success: "I only invited Love, why are you coming in?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;The old men replied together: "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would've stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever he goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1068149342908593038?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1068149342908593038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/11/wealth-success-or-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1068149342908593038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1068149342908593038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/11/wealth-success-or-love.html' title='Wealth, Success or Love?'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SvyqLq5tJGI/AAAAAAAAA50/GOa1ruNsuFg/s72-c/powerofsuccess.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1411372439831483932</id><published>2009-10-31T02:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T02:08:05.538-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='accepting change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contentment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sacrifice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='selfless love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blindness'/><title type='text'>Illuminated By Blindness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Suv-ZsWCxuI/AAAAAAAAA30/VTl57d7fGjU/s1600-h/blind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Suv-ZsWCxuI/AAAAAAAAA30/VTl57d7fGjU/s320/blind.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;There was a blind girl who hated herself because she was blind. She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend. He was always there for her. She told her boyfriend, “If I could only see the world, I will marry you.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her. When the bandages came off, she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;He asked her, “Now that you can see the world, will you marry me?” The girl looked at her boyfriend and saw that he was blind. The sight of his closed eyelids shocked her. She hadn’t expected that. The thought of looking at them the rest of her life led her to refuse to marry him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Her boyfriend left in tears and days later had a note sent to her saying, “Take good care of your eyes, my dear, for before they were yours, they were mine.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;This is often how our human nature works when our status changes. Only a very few remember what life was like before, and who was always by their side in the most painful situations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Life is a gift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Today, before you say an unkind word, think of someone who can’t speak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Before you complain about the taste of your food, think of someone who has nothing to eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Before you complain about your husband or wife, think of someone who’s crying out to God for a companion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Today, before you complain about life, think of those who may have died before their time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;Before whining about the distance you drive, think of those who walk the same distance on foot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;When you are tired and complain about your job, think of the unemployed, the disabled, and those who wish they had your job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;And, when depressing thoughts seem to get you down, put a smile on your face and think: you’re alive and still around for a reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1411372439831483932?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1411372439831483932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/10/illuminated-by-blindness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1411372439831483932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1411372439831483932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/10/illuminated-by-blindness.html' title='Illuminated By Blindness'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Suv-ZsWCxuI/AAAAAAAAA30/VTl57d7fGjU/s72-c/blind.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1426883372378612432</id><published>2009-10-06T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T04:40:17.892-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perception'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pessimist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='optimism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='negativity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pessimism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>The Bird Dog and the Pessimist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SsssftfcUvI/AAAAAAAAAz8/Y7S97Lt4soc/s1600-h/water_dog_yodz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SsssftfcUvI/AAAAAAAAAz8/Y7S97Lt4soc/s320/water_dog_yodz.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;There was a hunter who bought a bird dog, the only one of its kind in the world. That could walk on water . He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw this miracle. At the same time, he was very pleased that he could show off his new acquisition to his friends. He invited a friend to go duck hunting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some time, they shot a few ducks and the man ordered his dog to run and fetch the birds. All day-long, the dog ran on water and kept fetching the birds. The owner was expecting a comment or a compliment about his amazing dog, but never got one. As they were returning home, he asked his friend if he had noticed anything unusual about his dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friend replied, "Yes, in fact, I did notice something unusual. Your dog can't swim."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people always look at the negative side. Who is pessimist? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pessimists: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;are unhappy when they have no troubles to speak&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;feel bad when they feel good, for fear they will feel worse when they feel better&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;spend most of their life at complaint counters&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;always turn out the lights to see how dark it is&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;are always looking for cracks in the mirror of life&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;stop sleeping in bed when they hear that more people die in bed than anywhere else&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;cannot enjoy their health because they think they may be sick tomorrow&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;not only expect the worst but make the worst of whatever happens&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;don't see the doughnut, only the hole&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;believe that the sun shines only to cast shadows&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;forget their blessings and count their troubles&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;know that hard work never hurts anyone but believe "why take a chance?"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1426883372378612432?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1426883372378612432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/10/bird-dog-and-pessimist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1426883372378612432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1426883372378612432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/10/bird-dog-and-pessimist.html' title='The Bird Dog and the Pessimist'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SsssftfcUvI/AAAAAAAAAz8/Y7S97Lt4soc/s72-c/water_dog_yodz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-4699942803733069537</id><published>2009-09-24T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T05:20:50.176-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retirement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='consistency'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='values'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love of work'/><title type='text'>The Carpenter's House</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Srtj4zE6SZI/AAAAAAAAAvo/abfrqmK3I1I/s1600-h/The-Carpenter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Srtj4zE6SZI/AAAAAAAAAvo/abfrqmK3I1I/s320/The-Carpenter.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family in Diatagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by. The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house, he said, my gift to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-4699942803733069537?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/4699942803733069537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/09/carpenters-house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4699942803733069537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4699942803733069537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/09/carpenters-house.html' title='The Carpenter&apos;s House'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Srtj4zE6SZI/AAAAAAAAAvo/abfrqmK3I1I/s72-c/The-Carpenter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-3422236419223368625</id><published>2009-09-07T02:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T01:29:14.160-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family values'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old age'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='values'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Centeredness'/><title type='text'>The Wooden Bowl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SqTWa_0fzNI/AAAAAAAAAt8/BwKJ01-3DYg/s1600-h/WoodenBowl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="263" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SqTWa_0fzNI/AAAAAAAAAt8/BwKJ01-3DYg/s400/WoodenBowl.jpg" width="263" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about father,'" said the son. "I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the family glanced in Grandfather' s direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The four-year-old watched it all in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The words so struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-3422236419223368625?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/3422236419223368625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/09/wooden-bowl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3422236419223368625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3422236419223368625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/09/wooden-bowl.html' title='The Wooden Bowl'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SqTWa_0fzNI/AAAAAAAAAt8/BwKJ01-3DYg/s72-c/WoodenBowl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-3315153625672183281</id><published>2009-08-26T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T22:18:27.261-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='focus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational anecdote'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>Looking for the Gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpYWsb8zdSI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Ec4lORF2R3Y/s1600-h/gold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpYWsb8zdSI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Ec4lORF2R3Y/s320/gold.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374508157986108706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a young Scots boy, Andrew Carnegie came to America and started doing odd jobs. He ended up as one of the largest steel manufacturers in the United States.&lt;br /&gt;At one time he had 43 millionaires working for him. Several decades ago, a million dollars used to be a lot of money; even today it is a lot of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone asked Mr. Carnegie how he dealt with people? Andrew Carnegie replied, "Dealing with people is like digging gold: When you go digging for an ounce of gold, you have to move tons of dirt to get an ounce of gold. But when you go digging, you don't go looking for the dirt, you go looking for the gold."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-3315153625672183281?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/3315153625672183281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/looking-for-gold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3315153625672183281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3315153625672183281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/looking-for-gold.html' title='Looking for the Gold'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpYWsb8zdSI/AAAAAAAAAtM/Ec4lORF2R3Y/s72-c/gold.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-5501814703603608329</id><published>2009-08-26T02:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T03:01:13.276-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='accepting change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>The Man in the Dungeon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpUHcqVg8pI/AAAAAAAAAtE/P5UCwoI4eow/s1600-h/dungeon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 277px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpUHcqVg8pI/AAAAAAAAAtE/P5UCwoI4eow/s400/dungeon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374209919318815378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Charles Dickens wrote about a prisoner who stayed for many years in a dungeon. After serving his sentence, he got his freedom. He was brought out from his cell into the bright daylight of the open world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This man looked all around and after a few moments was so uncomfortable with his newly acquired freedom that he asked to be brought back to his cell into confinement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To him, the dungeon, the chains and the darkness were more secure and comfortable than accepting the change of freedom and the open world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-5501814703603608329?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/5501814703603608329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/man-in-dungeon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5501814703603608329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5501814703603608329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/man-in-dungeon.html' title='The Man in the Dungeon'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpUHcqVg8pI/AAAAAAAAAtE/P5UCwoI4eow/s72-c/dungeon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7452338981630407440</id><published>2009-08-25T03:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T03:16:15.209-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perception'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='values'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>David and Goliath</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpO5eR0ZZKI/AAAAAAAAAs0/tbcnb_WB6OQ/s1600-h/DavidGoliath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpO5eR0ZZKI/AAAAAAAAAs0/tbcnb_WB6OQ/s400/DavidGoliath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373842710213518498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We all know the story of David and Goliath. There was a giant who was bullying and harassing the children in the village. One day, a 17-year-old shepherd boy came to visit his brothers and asked, "Why don't you stand up and fight the giant?" The brothers were terrified and they replied, "Don't you see he is too big to hit?" But David said, "No, he is not too big to hit, he is too big to miss." The rest is history. We all know what happened. David killed the giant with a sling. Same giant, different perception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our attitude determines how we look at a setback. To a positive thinker, it can be a stepping stone to success. To a negative thinker, it can be a stumbling block.&lt;br /&gt;Great organizations are not measured by wages and working conditions, they are measured by feelings, attitudes and relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When employees say, "I can't do it," there are two possible meanings. Are they saying they don't know how to or they don't want to? If they don't know how to, that is a training issue. If they are saying they don't want to, it may be an attitude issue (they don't care) or a values issue (they believe they should not do it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7452338981630407440?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7452338981630407440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/david-and-goliath.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7452338981630407440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7452338981630407440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/david-and-goliath.html' title='David and Goliath'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpO5eR0ZZKI/AAAAAAAAAs0/tbcnb_WB6OQ/s72-c/DavidGoliath.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-4442259734680585441</id><published>2009-08-25T02:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T03:02:11.790-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambition'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opportunity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>Acres of Diamonds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpO2ApaKyLI/AAAAAAAAAss/oaZQx5FKPrg/s1600-h/diamonds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpO2ApaKyLI/AAAAAAAAAss/oaZQx5FKPrg/s400/diamonds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373838902615001266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was a farmer in Africa who was happy and content. He was happy because he was content. He was content because he was happy. One day a wise man came to him and told him about the glory of diamonds and the power that goes along with them. The wise man said, "If you had a diamond the size of your thumb, you could have your own city. If you had a diamond the size of your fist, you could probably own your own country." And then he went away. That night the farmer couldn't sleep. He was unhappy and he was discontent. He was unhappy because he was discontent and discontent because he was unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning he made arrangements to sell off his farm, took care of his family and went in search of diamonds. He looked all over Africa and couldn't find any. He looked all through Europe and couldn't find any. When he got to Spain, he was emotionally, physically and financially broke. He got so disheartened that he threw himself into the Barcelona River and committed suicide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back home, the person who had bought his farm was watering the camels at a stream that ran through the farm. Across the stream, the rays of the morning sun hit a stone and made it sparkle like a rainbow. He thought it would look good on the mantle piece. He picked up the stone and put it in the living room. That afternoon the wise man came and saw the stone sparkling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked, "Is Hafiz back?" The new owner said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "No, why do you ask?" The wise man said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Because that is a diamond. I recognize one when I see one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man said, no, that's just a stone I picked up from the stream. Come, I'll show you. There are many more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went and picked some samples and sent them for analysis. Sure enough, the stones were diamonds. They found that the farm was indeed covered with acres and acres of diamonds.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-4442259734680585441?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/4442259734680585441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/acres-of-diamonds.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4442259734680585441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4442259734680585441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/acres-of-diamonds.html' title='Acres of Diamonds'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SpO2ApaKyLI/AAAAAAAAAss/oaZQx5FKPrg/s72-c/diamonds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-6687954938239291630</id><published>2009-08-13T02:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T02:13:45.455-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>The Right Foundation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SoPYly0n1cI/AAAAAAAAAsU/BocgCbxiDNs/s1600-h/blaise+pascal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 175px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SoPYly0n1cI/AAAAAAAAAsU/BocgCbxiDNs/s400/blaise+pascal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369373324565009858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Someone once approached Blaise Pascal, the famous French philosopher and said, "If I had your brains, I would be a better person." Pascal replied, "Be a better person and you will have my brains."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-6687954938239291630?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/6687954938239291630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/right-foundation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6687954938239291630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6687954938239291630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/08/right-foundation.html' title='The Right Foundation'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SoPYly0n1cI/AAAAAAAAAsU/BocgCbxiDNs/s72-c/blaise+pascal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-567548311503615990</id><published>2009-07-27T04:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T04:41:25.943-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='compassion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love of nature'/><title type='text'>Love's Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sm2R283w-6I/AAAAAAAAApM/w8ymSoxqo4U/s1600-h/cute-leap-frog-lge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sm2R283w-6I/AAAAAAAAApM/w8ymSoxqo4U/s400/cute-leap-frog-lge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363103104507116450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    A farmer lived with his twelve-year-old son. The son was poetic and a bit lethargic. One day becoming furious with his son's ways the farmer severely scolded him and ordered him to remove the bushes in the back yard.  &lt;p&gt;On returning in the evening the father went to check his son's work. The back yard was clean except for one bush in the center and his son was not there to question.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Thinking that his son was lethargic to finish the work, the father himself took a knife and began to clear the bush. As soon as his first blow landed on the bush, two small frogs leapt out of their home and scampered away in fright… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;______________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;--- Written in 2004 by G.Ramasubramanian --- India &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-567548311503615990?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/567548311503615990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/loves-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/567548311503615990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/567548311503615990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/loves-way.html' title='Love&apos;s Way'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sm2R283w-6I/AAAAAAAAApM/w8ymSoxqo4U/s72-c/cute-leap-frog-lge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1880791792464653245</id><published>2009-07-25T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T00:52:49.972-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human flaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pride'/><title type='text'>The Flaw</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smq5o_32V-I/AAAAAAAAApE/8jIOtZ-V_sE/s1600-h/ego.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 371px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smq5o_32V-I/AAAAAAAAApE/8jIOtZ-V_sE/s400/ego.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362302420329584610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was once a learned scientist..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a lot of practice and efforts, he developed a formula and learned the art of reproducing himself. He did it so perfectly that it was impossible to tell the reproduction from the original.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day while doing his research, he realized that the Angel of Death was searching for him. In order to remain immortal he reproduced a dozen copies of himself. The reproduction was so meticulous that all of them looked exactly like him. Now when this Angel of Death came down, he was at a loss to know which of the thirteen before him was the original scientist, and confused, he left them all alone and returned back to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, not for long, for being an expert in human nature, the Angel came up with a clever idea. He said to the scientist addressing all thirteen of them, "Sir, you must be a genius to have succeeded in making such perfect reproduction formula of yourself. However, I have discovered a flaw in your work, just one tiny little flaw."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scientist immediately jumped out and shouted, Impossible! where is the flaw?" "Right here" said the Angel, as he picked up the scientist from among the reproductions and carried him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole purpose of the scientist and his formula of reproduction failed as he could not control his pride and lost his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while one's Knowledge and Skills takes one to the top of the ladder and makes one successful, however the three letter word "EGO" can pull one down immediately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1880791792464653245?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1880791792464653245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/flaw.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1880791792464653245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1880791792464653245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/flaw.html' title='The Flaw'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smq5o_32V-I/AAAAAAAAApE/8jIOtZ-V_sE/s72-c/ego.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-8425447686108640462</id><published>2009-07-23T03:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T04:42:35.998-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>The Black Balloon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smg_2ECwB_I/AAAAAAAAAo0/_bil9VQwsPQ/s1600-h/Balloons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smg_2ECwB_I/AAAAAAAAAo0/_bil9VQwsPQ/s320/Balloons.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361605554415339506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There was a man who made a living selling balloons at a fair. He had all colors of balloons, including red, yellow, blue, and green. Whenever business was slow, he would release a helium-filled balloon into the air and when the children saw it go up, they all wanted to buy one. They would come up to him, buy a balloon, and his sales would go up again. He continued this process all day. One day, he felt someone tugging at his jacket. He turned around and saw a little boy who asked, "If you release a black balloon, would that also fly?" Moved by the boy's concern, the man replied with empathy, "Son, it is not the color of the balloon, it is what is inside that makes it go up."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-8425447686108640462?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/8425447686108640462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/black-baloon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8425447686108640462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8425447686108640462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/black-baloon.html' title='The Black Balloon'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smg_2ECwB_I/AAAAAAAAAo0/_bil9VQwsPQ/s72-c/Balloons.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7552860583111066505</id><published>2009-07-23T03:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T03:07:45.439-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>The Seven Affairs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smg2Kx_Q_MI/AAAAAAAAAok/qYDl9qOmsJs/s1600-h/affair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smg2Kx_Q_MI/AAAAAAAAAok/qYDl9qOmsJs/s400/affair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361594915229859010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The 1st Affair  A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went  to her place and made love all afternoon. Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM. The man hurriedly  dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass  and dirt. He put on his shoes and drove home.  "Where have you been?" his wife demanded. "I can't lie to you," he replied, "I'm having an affair with my  secretary.  We had sex all afternoon." She looked down at his shoes and said: "You lying bastard! You've been playing golf!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2nd Affair A middle-aged couple had two beautiful daughters but always talked about having a son. They decided to try one last time for the son they always wanted. The wife got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby boy. The joyful father rushed to the nursery to see his new son. He was horrified at  the ugliest child he had ever seen. He told his wife: "There's no way I can be the father of this baby. Look at the two beautiful daughters I fathered! Have you been fooling around behind my back?" The wife smiled sweetly and replied: "Not this time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 3rd Affair A mortician was working late one night. He examined the body of Mr. Schwartz, about to be cremated, and made a startling discovery. Schwartz had the largest private part he had ever seen! "I'm sorry Mr. Schwartz," the mortician commented, "I can't allow you to  be cremated with such an impressive private part. It must be saved for posterity." So, he removed it, stuffed it into his briefcase, and took it home. I have something to show you won't believe," he said to his wife, opening his briefcase. "My God!" the wife exclaimed, "Schwartz is dead!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 4th Affair A woman was in bed with her lover when she heard her husband opening the front door. "Hurry," she said, "stand in the corner." She rubbed baby oil all over him, and then dusted him with talcum powder. "Don't move until I tell you," she said," pretend you're a statue." "What's this?" the husband inquired as he entered the room. "Oh it's a statue," she replied, "the Smiths bought one and I liked it so  I got one for us, too." No more was said, not even when they went to bed. Around 2 AM the husband got up, went to the kitchen and returned with a sandwich and a beer. "Here," he said to the statue, "have this. I stood like that for two days at the Smiths and nobody offered me a damned thing.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5th Affair  A man walked into a cafe, went to the bar and ordered a beer. "Certainly, Sir, that'll be one cent."  "One Cent?" the man exclaimed.  He glanced at the menu and asked:" How much for a nice juicy steak and a  bottle of wine?"  "A nickel," the barman replied.  "A nickel?" exclaimed the man. "Where's the guy who owns this place?" The bartender replied: "Upstairs, with my wife."  The man asked: "What's he doing upstairs with your wife?"  The bartender replied: "The same thing I'm doing to his business down  here." The 6th Affair Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside. He looked up and said weakly: "I have something I must confess." "There's no need to," his wife replied. "No," he insisted, "I want to die in peace. I slept with your sister,  your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!" "I know," she replied, "now just rest and let the poison work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 7th affair A woman takes a lover home during the day while her husband is at work. Her 9-year old son comes home unexpectedly, sees them and hides in the bedroom closet to watch. The woman's husband also comes home. She puts her lover in the closet,  not realizing that the little boy is in there already. The little boy says, "Dark in here." The man says, "Yes, it is." Boy - "I have a baseball."  Man - "That's nice."  Boy - "Want to buy it?"  Man - "No, thanks."  Boy - "My dad's outside."  Man - "OK, how much?"  Boy - "$150" Man - "Sold."  In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the lover are in  the closet together.  Boy - "Dark in here"  Man - "Yes, it is."  Boy - "I have a Wilson infielder's glove."  The lover, remembering the last time, asks the boy, "How much?"  Boy - "$350"  Man - "Highway robbery. Sold." A few days later, the father says to the boy, "Grab your glove, let's go  outside and have a game of catch."  The boy says, "I can't, I sold my ball and my glove." The father asks, "How much did you sell them for?"  The boy says, "$500"  The father&lt;br /&gt;says, "That's terrible to overcharge your friends like that...  that is way more than those two things cost. I'm going to take you to  church and make you confess your greed."  They go to the church and the father makes the little boy sit in the  confession booth and he closes the door..  The boy says, "Dark in here."  The priest says, "Don't start that shit again, you're in my closet now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7552860583111066505?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7552860583111066505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/seven-affairs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7552860583111066505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7552860583111066505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/seven-affairs.html' title='The Seven Affairs'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Smg2Kx_Q_MI/AAAAAAAAAok/qYDl9qOmsJs/s72-c/affair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7783012727980617468</id><published>2009-07-10T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T02:40:12.371-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inner strenght'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good and evil'/><title type='text'>The Wolves</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlcLT8Hi0GI/AAAAAAAAAn8/rh_bqL2CVPM/s1600-h/Fighting_Wolfs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlcLT8Hi0GI/AAAAAAAAAn8/rh_bqL2CVPM/s400/Fighting_Wolfs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356762718963683426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A Grandfather from the Cherokee Nation was talking with his grandson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One wolf is evil and ugly: He is anger, envy, war, greed, self-pity, sorrow, regret, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, selfishness and arrogance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The other wolf is beautiful and good: He is friendly, joyful, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, justice, fairness, empathy, generosity, true, compassion, gratitude, and deep VISION."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This same fight is going on inside you, and inside every other human as well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grandson paused in deep reflection because of what his grandfather had just said. Then he finally cried out; "Oyee! Grandfather, which wolf will win?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elder Cherokee replied, "The wolf that you feed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;from: Cherokee Wisdom &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7783012727980617468?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7783012727980617468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/wolves.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7783012727980617468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7783012727980617468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/wolves.html' title='The Wolves'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlcLT8Hi0GI/AAAAAAAAAn8/rh_bqL2CVPM/s72-c/Fighting_Wolfs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-6522493359162977814</id><published>2009-07-10T02:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T02:25:00.444-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='collective work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping others'/><title type='text'>The Mousetrap</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlcIUhyX2_I/AAAAAAAAAn0/bxvExM7QmYw/s1600-h/mousetrap9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 216px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlcIUhyX2_I/AAAAAAAAAn0/bxvExM7QmYw/s400/mousetrap9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356759430540549106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral; the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;"&gt;The next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage and help one another.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-6522493359162977814?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/6522493359162977814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/mousetrap.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6522493359162977814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6522493359162977814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/mousetrap.html' title='The Mousetrap'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlcIUhyX2_I/AAAAAAAAAn0/bxvExM7QmYw/s72-c/mousetrap9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-4860267605732298007</id><published>2009-07-09T01:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T01:33:18.844-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='belief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doubt'/><title type='text'>Doubt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlWqDLNoy6I/AAAAAAAAAns/d5vf7il_oNs/s1600-h/doubt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlWqDLNoy6I/AAAAAAAAAns/d5vf7il_oNs/s400/doubt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356374303353392034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Sri Ramakrishna tells of a man who was just about to cross a river when the teacher Bibhishana approached him, wrote a name on a piece of paper, fixed it to the man’s back and said:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;‘Fear  not. Your faith will help you to walk upon the waters. But the moment  you lose your faith, you will drown.’&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;The man trusted Bibhishana and began to walk effortlessly across the waters. At one point, however, he had an immense desire to know what his teacher had written on the piece of paper fixed to his back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;He  got hold of it and read what was written on it: ‘Oh God Rama, help  this man to cross the river.’&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;‘Is  that all?’ thought the man. ‘Who is this god Rama anyway?’&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;As soon as doubt entered his  mind, he went under and was drowned.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;______________________________&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Story Source :&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://paulocoelhoblog.com/warrioroflight/08.07.2009/what-is-happiness/"&gt; Paulo Coelho Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Image Source : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;" href="http://www.bsimple.com/doubt3.htm"&gt;Doubt&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-4860267605732298007?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/4860267605732298007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/doubt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4860267605732298007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4860267605732298007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/doubt.html' title='Doubt'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlWqDLNoy6I/AAAAAAAAAns/d5vf7il_oNs/s72-c/doubt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7458911679917199667</id><published>2009-07-07T04:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T04:14:21.552-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='husband'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fidelity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>The Wedding Finger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;EVER WONDERED WHY WEDDING RINGS SHOULD BE ON YOUR FOURTH FINGER AND NO WHERE ELSE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;There is a beautiful and convincing explanation given by the Chinese ......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The thumb represents your Parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The second (index) finger represents your Siblings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The middle finger represents you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The fourth (ring) finger represents your Life Partner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The last (little) finger represents your children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;First, open your palms (face to face),bend the middle fingers and hold them together,back to back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Second, open and hold the remaining three fingers and the thumb - tip to tip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana; font-style: italic;"&gt;(As shown in the figure below):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlMta6sIloI/AAAAAAAAAnc/dbLam69gllY/s1600-h/weddingfinger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlMta6sIloI/AAAAAAAAAnc/dbLam69gllY/s400/weddingfinger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355674322327869058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Now, try to separate your thumbs (representing the parents).  They will open, because your parents are not destined to live with you lifelong, and have to leave you sooner or later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Please join your thumbs as before and separate your Index fingers (representing siblings).  They will also open, because your brothers and sisters will have their own families and will have to lead their separate lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Now rejoin the index fingers and separate your little fingers (representing your children).  They will open too, because the children also will get married and settle down on their own some day..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Finally, rejoin your little fingers, and try to separate your ring fingers (representing your spouse). You'll be surprised to see that you just CANNOT, because husband &amp;amp; wife have to remain together all their lives - through thick and thin!!So clever, those Chinese!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7458911679917199667?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7458911679917199667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/wedding-finger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7458911679917199667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7458911679917199667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/07/wedding-finger.html' title='The Wedding Finger'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SlMta6sIloI/AAAAAAAAAnc/dbLam69gllY/s72-c/weddingfinger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1876718235903116600</id><published>2009-06-17T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T01:18:03.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mind mastery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational qoute'/><title type='text'>Advice to Myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SjimKwbTqtI/AAAAAAAAAjU/G1fRGBpkpwc/s1600-h/mind.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 516px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SjimKwbTqtI/AAAAAAAAAjU/G1fRGBpkpwc/s400/mind.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348207261230803666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1876718235903116600?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1876718235903116600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/06/advice-to-myself.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1876718235903116600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1876718235903116600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/06/advice-to-myself.html' title='Advice to Myself'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SjimKwbTqtI/AAAAAAAAAjU/G1fRGBpkpwc/s72-c/mind.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-717886635447234190</id><published>2009-06-04T03:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T03:23:02.453-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='patience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Taste of Banzo's Sword</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sief5icDcMI/AAAAAAAAAhY/41AbW8rFKY4/s1600-h/patience.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sief5icDcMI/AAAAAAAAAhY/41AbW8rFKY4/s400/patience.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343415293744214210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matajuro Yagyu was the son of a famous swordsman. His father, believing that his son's work was too mediocre to anticipate mastership, disowned him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Matajuro went to Mount Futara and there found the famous swordsman Banzo. But Banzo confirmed the father's judgment. "You wish to learn swordsmanship under my guidance?" asked Banzo. "You cannot fulfill the requirements."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But if I work hard, how many years will it take to become a master?" persisted the youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The rest of your life," replied Banzo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I cannot wait that long," explained Matajuro. "I am willing to pass through any hardship if only you will teach me. If I become your devoted servant, how long might it be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, maybe ten years," Banzo relented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My father is getting old, and soon I must take care of him," continued Matajuro. "If I work far more intensively, how long would it take me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, maybe thirty years," said Banzo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why is that?" asked Matajuro. "First you say ten and now thirty years. I will undergo any hardship to master this art in the shortest time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said Banzo, "in that case you will have to remain with me for seventy years. A man in such a hurry as you are to get results seldom learns quickly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very well," declared the youth, understanding at last that he was being rebuked for impatience, "I agree."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matajuro was told never to speak of fencing and never to touch a sword. He cooked for his master, washed the dishes, made his bed, cleaned the yard, cared for the garden, all without a word of swordmanship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years passed. Still Matajuro labored on. Thinking of his future, he was sad. He had not even begun to learn the art to which he had devoted his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one day Banzo crept up behind him and gave him a terrific blow with a wooden sword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following day, when Matajuro was cooking rice, Banzo again sprang upon him unexpectedly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, day and night, Matajuro had to defend himself from unexpected thrusts. Not a moment passed in any day that he did not have to think of the taste of Banzo's sword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He learned so rapidly he brought smiles to the face of his master. Matajuro became the greatest swordsman in the land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://yodi967.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 56px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sief_ln9PyI/AAAAAAAAAhg/lr9UoN8zLo4/s400/banner+blog+eye+copy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343415397678661410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-717886635447234190?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/717886635447234190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/06/taste-of-banzos-sword.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/717886635447234190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/717886635447234190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/06/taste-of-banzos-sword.html' title='The Taste of Banzo&apos;s Sword'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sief5icDcMI/AAAAAAAAAhY/41AbW8rFKY4/s72-c/patience.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2042094127814343509</id><published>2009-06-02T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:22:45.723-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trials'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life struggles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adversity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Life Struggles</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SiYWRd_4WoI/AAAAAAAAAgg/acsDqQifTqE/s1600-h/struggle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 225px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SiYWRd_4WoI/AAAAAAAAAgg/acsDqQifTqE/s400/struggle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342982497287821954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    A man found a cocoon of an emperor moth. He took it home so that he could watch the moth come out of the cocoon. On the day a small opening appeared, he sat and watched the moth for several hours as the moth struggled to force the body through that little hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The moth seemed to be stuck and appeared to have stopped making progress. It seemed as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no farther. The man, in his kindness, decided to help the moth; so he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The moth then emerged easily. But its body was swollen and small, its wings wrinkled and shriveled. The man continued to watch the moth because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to and able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened! In fact, the little moth spent the rest of its life crawling around with a small, swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly. The man in his kindness and haste did not understand that the struggle required for the moth to get through the tiny opening was necessary to force fluid from the body of the moth into its wings so that it would be ready for flight upon achieving its freedom from the cocoon. Freedom and flight would only come after the struggle. By depriving the moth of a struggle, he deprived the moth of health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If we were to go through our life without any obstacles, we would be crippled. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. Give every opportunity a chance, leave no room for regrets, and don't forget the power in the struggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://yodi967.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 56px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SiYWLSlKw-I/AAAAAAAAAgY/LVhkv3YLxaY/s400/banner+blog+eye+copy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342982391143777250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2042094127814343509?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2042094127814343509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/06/life-struggles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2042094127814343509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2042094127814343509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/06/life-struggles.html' title='Life Struggles'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SiYWRd_4WoI/AAAAAAAAAgg/acsDqQifTqE/s72-c/struggle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-4266274812582777237</id><published>2009-05-29T03:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T03:29:18.596-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reliable realist'/><title type='text'>I'm A Reliable Realist</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;"&gt;This is my personality according to &lt;a href="http://ipersonic.com/test.html"&gt;Ipersonic&lt;/a&gt; (Yodz Insigne)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-3j-rmzaI/AAAAAAAAAfo/tC2-7EmtUD4/s1600-h/realist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-3j-rmzaI/AAAAAAAAAfo/tC2-7EmtUD4/s320/realist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341189511833898402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Reliable Realists&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; are down-to-earth and responsible-minded. They are precise, reserved and demanding. Their most prominent quality is reliability and they will always make every effort to keep any promise given. Reliable Realists are more quiet and serious persons, they do not talk a lot but they are good listeners. They sometimes seem reserved and distant to outsiders although they often have a great deal of wit and esprit. Their strong points are thoroughness, a marked sense of justice, doggedness bordering on pigheadedness and a pragmatic, vigorous and purposeful manner. Reliable Realists do not dither about if something has to be done. They do what is necessary without wasting words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This personality type not only expects a lot of himself but also of others. Once Reliable Realists have set their mind on something, it is difficult to persuade them otherwise. They do not like to leave anything to chance. Planning means safety to Reliable Realists, as well as order and discipline. They have no problem respecting authorities and hierarchies but do not like to delegate tasks. They are certain that others would not deal with them as conscientiously as they do. In management positions, they are very task-oriented - they make sure that things are well done; however, they do not have a great deal of interest in personal contacts at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In relationships too, Reliable Realists are reliability itself. As partners, they are faithful and consistent, well-balanced and sensible. Security and stability are very important to them. They have little time for extravagances and flightiness. Whoever has them as friend or partner can rely on them for a lifetime. However, it takes quite a while for Reliable Realists to enter into a relationship or friendship. They have little need for social contacts; they therefore take great care when choosing partners and friends and limit themselves to a small but exclusive circle which meets their high demands. They tend to show their closeness to people who are important to them by deeds - their partner should rather not expect romantic declarations of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a &lt;strong&gt;Reliable Realist&lt;/strong&gt; you belong to the introverted personality types. You don’t appreciate too much commotion around you preferring to work relatively independently of others. You need to give yourself plenty of time to work in peace and deal with your projects thoroughly and intensely. Your ability to concentrate is exceptionally high and if you are interested in something you can truly immerse yourself forgetting everything around you. Very strongly team-oriented professional fields, or employment where your concentration is continuously disturbed, or your work is disrupted, are not really for you. It is just too important to you to complete your projects really well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One or two colleagues who are on your wavelength or possibly a small group of like-minded colleagues are the most you need. Too many people are stressful to you because the emotionality and irrationality that comes with interpersonal relationships tends to disturb you. You are reserved when revealing yourself, and often have the effect of being aloof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, and although it may not be your intention, you even convey the impression of being dismissive to the people around you. The continuous locker room and water cooler banter enervate you more than anything else. For you, work is work, and you feel that private matters don’t really belong there. When you choose your profession, watch out that you are not made to adjust to and interact with others around the clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not characterized in your type description as         “reliable” for nothing! It describes you as a person as         well as a partner. Stability, reliability, fidelity, and         security are those traits you expect from your love         relationship (and which you contribute to a rich measure).         If you have promised something to somebody, your word is         your bond, come what may. You are one of the most honest         personality types and one of the most predictable ones (in         a positive sense!).      &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;       With you, one always knows that you mean what you say, and         that you will stick with it, regardless what happens. If         one can justifiably describe a type as the tower of         strength for his/her partner, then it’s you. Intrigues,         cunning, sneakiness, or even lack of openness are just as         foreign to you in your love relationship as in the rest of         your life. Since you are very much aware that your         expectations of your partner cannot be met by just anybody,         you can procrastinate for quite some time until you decide         on someone, and not get involved head over heels with a         love relationship even then. For that, you are too careful,         and deal with your own feelings - and the ones of others -         with too much respect.      &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;       You are the most conservative of all types, and feel bound         by traditional values and institutions. For you, that also         includes marriage and beginning a family. Temporary affairs         are not for you, and you don’t know flightiness and         inconsistency. You can’t imagine just flirting. In the long         run, you would not be happy in a relationship without a         commitment. You assume a great responsibility if you engage         in a relationship for life and you tend to see yourself as         the provider in the relationship. Material security is very         important to you, and in order to offer it to your partner         and your family, you work hard and often. It is very         possible that you are most comfortable in a relationship         with the “traditional” role allocation.      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From : &lt;a href="http://ipersonic.com/test.html"&gt;Ipersonic&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://yodi967.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 56px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-4IXTOqVI/AAAAAAAAAfw/Gc8EBbSeMmA/s400/banner+blog+eye+copy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341190136917829970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-4266274812582777237?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/4266274812582777237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-reliable-realist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4266274812582777237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4266274812582777237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-reliable-realist.html' title='I&apos;m A Reliable Realist'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-3j-rmzaI/AAAAAAAAAfo/tC2-7EmtUD4/s72-c/realist.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-8100029167720904626</id><published>2009-05-29T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T00:07:01.999-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resource management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='setting priorities'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='balanced lifestyle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time management'/><title type='text'>The Important Things in Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-H_l2MgJI/AAAAAAAAAfA/qcI3Prjj6pk/s1600-h/jar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 301px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-H_l2MgJI/AAAAAAAAAfA/qcI3Prjj6pk/s400/jar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341137209645629586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;A philosophy professor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; stood before his class with some items on the table in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, about 2 inches in diameter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agree&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;d that it was.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He then asked the students again if the jar was full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; They agreed it was.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He then asked once more if the jar was full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The students responded with a unanimous “Yes.”&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Now,” said the professor, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your lif&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rocks are the important things - your family, your partner, your health, your children - things that if every&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;thing else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The pebbles are the other things that matter - like your job, your house, your car.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The sand is everything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The small stuff.”&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;“If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued “there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pay attention to the things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Take care of the rocks first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is just sand.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://yodi967.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 496px; height: 63px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-IuV0RjkI/AAAAAAAAAfI/BM0LAPEb8Lc/s400/banner+blog+eye+copy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341138012796456514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-8100029167720904626?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/8100029167720904626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/important-things-in-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8100029167720904626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8100029167720904626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/important-things-in-life.html' title='The Important Things in Life'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-H_l2MgJI/AAAAAAAAAfA/qcI3Prjj6pk/s72-c/jar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-999009238969773666</id><published>2009-05-28T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T00:10:33.450-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fault finding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='managers'/><title type='text'>Managers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-G1KdBwuI/AAAAAAAAAe4/QUkNWpkqlv4/s1600-h/boss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 392px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-G1KdBwuI/AAAAAAAAAe4/QUkNWpkqlv4/s400/boss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341135930981991138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;Once during a     Management training program, a team of Senior Managers were given an     assignment to measure the height of a flagpole. So these Managers went out     to the flagpole with ladders and tape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     They're falling off the ladders, dropping the measuring tape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt; - the whole     thing is just a mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     An Engineer comes along and sees what they're trying to  do, walks     over, pulls the flagpole out of the ground, lays it flat, measures it from      end to end, gives the measurement to one of the managers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     Re-erects the flagpole and walks straight-away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     After the Engineer has gone, one Manager turns to another and laughs …&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     "Isn't that just like an engineer? We're looking for height and he     gives t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;he length!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;     Moral : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;color:red;" &gt;No matter what good you do, Managers can always find     fault in you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(13, 13, 13);"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also visit &lt;a href="http://yodi967.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Chronicles of Yodz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://yodi967.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 56px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-J6vnBQ3I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/HFSzr2nLZCc/s400/banner+blog+eye+copy.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341139325390242674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;color:navy;"   &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:10;color:navy;"   &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-999009238969773666?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/999009238969773666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/managers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/999009238969773666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/999009238969773666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/managers.html' title='Managers'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sh-G1KdBwuI/AAAAAAAAAe4/QUkNWpkqlv4/s72-c/boss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-9043263453325866395</id><published>2009-05-20T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T05:08:30.397-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='one hand clapping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yodz insigne'/><title type='text'>The Sound of One Hand Clapping</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ShPyoXhwTtI/AAAAAAAAAcY/01m1mHZ78WY/s1600-h/one+hand+clapping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ShPyoXhwTtI/AAAAAAAAAcY/01m1mHZ78WY/s400/one+hand+clapping.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337876758688452306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;The master of Kennin temple was Mokurai, Silent Thunder. He had a little protégé named Toyo who was only twelve years old. Toyo saw the older disciples visit the master's room each morning and evening to receive instruction in sanzen or personal guidence in which they were given koans to stop mind-wandering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toyo wished to do sanzen also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wait a while," said Mokurai. "You are too young."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the child insisted, so the teacher finally consented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening little Toyo went at the proper time to the threshold of Mokurai's sanzen room. He struck the gong to announce his presence, bowed respectfully three times outside the door, and went to sit before the master in respectful silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can hear the sound of two hands when they clap together," said Mokurai. "Now show me the sound of one hand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toyo bowed and went to his room to consider this problem. From his window he could hear the music of the geishas. "Ah, I have it!" he proclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next evening, when his teacher asked him to illustrate the sound of one hand, Toyo began to play the music of the geishas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no," said Mokurai. "That will never do. That is not the sound of one hand. You've not got it at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that such music might interrupt, Toyo moved his abode to a quiet place. He meditated again. "What can the sound of one hand be?" He happened to hear some water dripping. "I have it," imagined Toyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he next appeared before his teacher, he imitated dripping water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is that?" asked Mokurai. "That is the sound of dripping water, but not the sound of one hand. Try again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In vain Toyo meditated to hear the sound of one hand. He heard the sighing of the wind. But the sound was rejected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He heard the cry of an owl. This was also refused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sound of one hand was not the locusts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For more than ten times Toyo visited Mokurai with different sounds. All were wrong. For almost a year he pondered what the sound of one hand might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last Toyo entered true meditation and transcended all sounds. "I could collect no more," he explained later, "so I reached the soundless sound."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toyo had realized the sound of one hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-9043263453325866395?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/9043263453325866395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/sound-of-one-hand-clapping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/9043263453325866395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/9043263453325866395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/05/sound-of-one-hand-clapping.html' title='The Sound of One Hand Clapping'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ShPyoXhwTtI/AAAAAAAAAcY/01m1mHZ78WY/s72-c/one+hand+clapping.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-938896455273841169</id><published>2009-04-02T04:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T04:13:38.359-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipina Domestic Helper'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino Abroad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spratly Island'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chip tsao'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Talk of the Town - "Philippines as Nation of Servants"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I guess this is the hottest talk of the town for this month. A Chinese writer by the name of Chip Tsao published a story in the HK Magazine of the Asia City Publishing Group, calling the Philippines a "nation of servants". I have a Tita in HongKong working as Domestic Helper and when I came across this article, it makes my blood boil... &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;DEATH TO CHIP TSAO via Melamine Overdose!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the article by Chip in HK Magazine:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SdSc5UsfoeI/AAAAAAAAAX4/UHxFwMJs4TQ/s1600-h/CHIP+TSAO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 356px; height: 206px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SdSc5UsfoeI/AAAAAAAAAX4/UHxFwMJs4TQ/s320/CHIP+TSAO.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320049568453206498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;The War at Home&lt;br /&gt;By Chip Tsao&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Russians sank a Hong Kong freighter last month, killing the seven Chinese seamen onboard. We can live with that-—Lenin and Stalin were once the ideological mentors of all Chinese people. The Japanese planted a flag on Diàoyú Island. That's no big problem-—we Hong Kong Chinese love Japanese cartoons, Hello Kitty, and shopping in Shinjuku, let alone our round-the-clock obsession with karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hold on-—even the Filipinos? Manila has just claimed sovereignty over the scattered rocks in the South China Sea called the Spratly Islands, complete with a blatant threat from its congress to send gunboats to the South China Sea to defend the islands from China if necessary. This is beyond reproach. The reason: There are more than 130,000 Filipina maids working as HK$3,580-a-month cheap labor in Hong Kong. As a nation of servants, you don't flex your muscles at your master, from whom you earn most of your bread and butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a patriotic Chinese man, the news has made my blood boil. I summoned Louisa, my domestic assistant who holds a degree in international politics from the University of Manila, hung a map on the wall, and gave her a harsh lecture. I sternly warned her that if she wants her wages increased next year, she had better tell everyone of her compatriots in Statue Square on Sunday that the entirety of the Spratly Islands belongs to China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;Grimly, I told her that if war breaks out between the Philippines and China, I would have to end her employment and send her straight home, because I would not risk the crime of treason for sponsoring an enemy of the state by paying her to wash my toilet and clean my windows 16 hours a day. With that money, she would pay taxes to her Government, and they would fund a navy to invade our motherland and deeply hurt my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. The Government of the Philippines would certainly be wrong if they think we Chinese are prepared to swallow their insult and sit back and lose a Falkland Islands War in the Far East. They may have Barack Obama and the hawkish American military behind them, but we have a hostage in each of our homes in the Mid-Levels or higher. Some of my friends told me they have already declared a state of emergency at home. Their maids have been made to shout 'China, Madam/Sir' loudly whenever they hear the word "Spratly". They say the indoctrination is working as wonderfully as when we used to shout, "Long live Chairman Mao!" at the sight of a portrait of our Great Leader during the Cultural Revolution. I’m not sure if that's going a bit too far, at least for the time being.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-938896455273841169?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/938896455273841169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/04/talk-of-town-philippines-as-nation-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/938896455273841169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/938896455273841169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/04/talk-of-town-philippines-as-nation-of.html' title='Talk of the Town - &quot;Philippines as Nation of Servants&quot;'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SdSc5UsfoeI/AAAAAAAAAX4/UHxFwMJs4TQ/s72-c/CHIP+TSAO.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-8994850793910548988</id><published>2009-03-25T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T01:39:28.586-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='30 years old'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='balanced lifestyle'/><title type='text'>SEVEN THINGS TO DO BEFORE YOU TURN 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ScntcNDdUII/AAAAAAAAAXg/xR7wpTx4WZA/s1600-h/animation30b.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 164px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ScntcNDdUII/AAAAAAAAAXg/xR7wpTx4WZA/s400/animation30b.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317041903883866242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Turning 30 represent a chance to right wrongs, settle scores, start fresh. It is time to build on past successes while creating new ones. The following may not be applicable to everyone in making the most of it, but among those who asked who were in the cusp of 30, these are the things they wished they had done sooner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;1. TRAVEL - Most young people should have the opportunity to see that  the world is bigger than Megamall.! If you are lucky enough to be sponsored in making a big trip to the US or Europe,treat it as a learning experience, not just a great opportunity to buy Bass loafers on discount. It is a cliche but true: travel makes history come alive and opens up the mind to countless new experiences. Make sure you can learn from it while you can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;2. BUY LIFE INSURANCE - it is a fact of life that in your 20s, life insurance is seen as cumbersome, morbid and not worthpaying. Insurance  agents on the other hand are weasels, vultures and vermin that don't  have enough rocks to crawl under. The reality is accidents happen. Buses ram into cars. Planes crash. Boats sink. Anything can happen and it's  too late to sort out a potential financial mess when your family and relatives are in mourning. This is not a pitch for insurance companies,  but if you'd stop blowing off that agent, you'd find out what you can  get out of life insurance, namely peace of mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;3. GET FIT - at 20 losing pounds is like sneezing. There's hardly any effort involved. At 30, just budging the ripples of fat on your thighs would involved a crane and fork-lift. Generally, the younger you are, the easier it is to reach and maintain optimum fitness. Getting into the habit early on primes and conditions your body so that by 30 at a time when couch potatoes start discovering mysterious aches and pains, you're  in the pink of health. Start living healthier sooner and the benefit will remain with you longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;4. SAVE OR INVEST MONEY - saving is rarely a priority in your 20s, shopping is. There are many young bright things out there with Prada bags, Maxmara suits and debts that are shoved into a drawer in the hope they would evaporate. Around 30 or thereabouts, the shopping plateau hits. There are life  changes: a shift in careers, a marriage, a baby. Follow your mother's  advice and pay yourself first every payday by deducting a percentage that  gets debited straight into an account you can't touch. Not doing without  it will train you to live on what's left. At 30, you'll be glad you made that early sacrifice. While your peers will be struggling to put  something away, you can be secure in the thought that you had a  headstart.  ** try mutual funds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;5. LEARN ANOTHER LANGUAGE OR GET ANOTHER DEGREE - the best time to learn  another language or get another degree would be when you're encumbered by job and family responsibilities, with the extra time and energy to  work and study at the same time. Acquiring relevant skills and knowledge add up to your value as an employee or manager and brightens prospects  for the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;6. LIVE ON YOUR OWN - some people think independence means not borrowing the car on Saturday night. That's admirable, but moving out is much more  of a learning experience. Paying household bills you've racked up,  learning how to clean up after your own rubbish without a squadron of  maids, even cooking your own meals are lesson well learned far from  home. So many young people claim they are the masters of their own destiny but fuss when the maid doesn't turn the hot water on. Perhaps, the best lesson one can learn in this life is that Mommy and Daddy are not always there to pick up after you. Living on your own will teach you that in ways no textbook can and will equip you better for the time when you start a family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;7. EXORCISE YOUR GHOST - during your 20s, it's okay to blame your anger  on deprived childhood, cruel friends and traitorous boyfriends. During  your 30s, the same excuses sound pretty lame. At some point or another,  you will have to be responsible for your own actions. So your parents  broke up? So one of your boyfriends jilted you for your friend? So  bloody what? Using these creaky skeletons as scapegoats for a miserable  existence hardly counts as looking forward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I still have an office colleague who can't forget no one spoke to her when she was in a freshman party in Australia. Did it scar her for life? Probably, since she can't seem to stop talking about it. Get rid of those ghosts that have stubbornly hung over you. They have no place in your tomorrows except as references to periods in your life. Turning 30 means moving on, not pestering with old grievances. Remember Mme. Calmet? According to the Observer, despite the death of her only daughter in 1934, of her husband in 1942 and of her only grandchild in 1963, she has something we should all aspire to have, says her doctor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"She has a remarkable capacity to overcome grief and carry on."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And carrying on is only the start. Better things are yet to come – just wait until you're 40.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-8994850793910548988?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/8994850793910548988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/seven-things-to-do-before-you-turn-30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8994850793910548988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8994850793910548988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/seven-things-to-do-before-you-turn-30.html' title='SEVEN THINGS TO DO BEFORE YOU TURN 30'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ScntcNDdUII/AAAAAAAAAXg/xR7wpTx4WZA/s72-c/animation30b.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2057389046237247097</id><published>2009-03-19T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T19:23:53.921-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='housemaid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><title type='text'>Ang Balintataw ni Inday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ScL9xRgmL3I/AAAAAAAAAXA/l-Ic5bYlpKE/s1600-h/inday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ScL9xRgmL3I/AAAAAAAAAXA/l-Ic5bYlpKE/s320/inday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315089533206146930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eto may update kay INDAY... SA DULO NG KANLING CONVERSATIONAL MATUTUWA  KA SA SINAPIT NILA......... Check the bottom part!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BWAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAA, galing mag inglis ni Inday..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dahil sa tindi ng kahirapan sa  probinsya, namasukan si Inday bilang katulong sa Maynila. Habang ini-interview ng amo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: Kelangan namin ng katulong para  mag ayos ng bahay, magluto,maglaba, magplantsa, mamalengke, at  magbantay ng mga bata. Kaya mo ba  ang lahat ng ito?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: I believe that my trained  skills and expertise in management with  the use of standard tools, and my  discipline and experience will  contribute significantly to the value  of the work that you want, my  creativity, productivity and work-efficiency and the high quality of  outcomes I can offer will boost the  work progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo : [nosebleed]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakaraan ang dalawang araw, umuwi ang  amo, nakitang me bukol si junior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: Bakit me bukol si junior?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: Compromising safety with  useless aesthetics, the not-so-well  engineered architectural design of our  kitchen lavatory affected the  boy's cranium with a slight boil at  the left temple near the auditory  organ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: [nosebleed ulit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinagabihan, habang naghahapunan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: Bakit maalat ang ulam?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: The consistency was fine. But  you see, it seems that the  increased amount of sodium chloride  (NaCl) affected the taste  drastically and those actions are&lt;br /&gt;irreversible. I do apologize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: [nosebleed na naman]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donya: Bakit tuwing paguwi ko, nadadatnan kitang nanunuod ng tv?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: Because I don't want you to see  me doing absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donya: [hinimatay]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinabukasan, sinamahan ni Inday si  junior sa principal's office dahil  di makapunta ang amo at donya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Princi pal: Sinuntok ni junior ang  kanyang kaklase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: It's absurd!  It was never a fact that he will  inflict a fight.  I can only imagine how you handle  schizophre nic kids on this  educational institution. Revise your  policies because they suck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Principal: [nag resign]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pag dating sa bahay, nandun na ang  amo, galit na galit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: Inday, bakit nagkalat ang basura  sa likod ng bahay?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: A change in the weather  patterns might have occurred wrecking  havoc to the surroundings. The way the  debris are scattered  indicates that the gust of wind was&lt;br /&gt;going northeast causing damage  to the path it was heading for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: [nosebleed ulit]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habang nagluluto si Inday ng hapunan,malikot si junior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday : Stop your raucous behavior. It  is bound to result in property  damages and if that happens there will  be corresponding punishment to be  inflicted upon you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junior: [takbo sa CR, punasan ang  nagdudugong ilong]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pa gkatapos magluto, nanood na ng TV si  Inday. Nabalitaan nya umalis si  Angel Locsin sa GMA 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junior: Bakit kaya sya umalis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: Sometimes, people choose to  leave not because of selfish reasons  but because they just know that things  will get worse if they'll stay.  Leaving can be a tough act, and it's  harder when people can't understand  you for doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junior: [tuloy ang pagdugo ng ilong]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nung gabing yon, me nag text ke Inday.  Si Dodong, ang driver ng  kapitbahay, gusto maki pag text-mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In day: To forestall further hopes of  acquaintance, my unfathomable  statement to the denial of your  request - Petition denied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di nagla-on, dahil sa tyaga ni Dodong,  nagging syota nya rin si Inday.  Pero di tumagal ang kanilang relasyon,at nakipag-break si Inday ke  Dodong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: The statute restricts me to  love you but you have the  provocations. The way you smile is the  proximate cause why I love you.  We have some rules to think of. We&lt;br /&gt;have no vested rights to love each  other because the upper household  dismissed my petition!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dodong : Perhaps you are mistaken, what  you seem to contrive as any  affections for you are somewhat half-hearted. I was merely attempting to  expand my network of interests by  involving you in my daily recreation.  Heretofor, you can expect an end to  any verbal articulation from myself"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me dumaan na mamang basurero, at  narinig ang usapan ni Inday at Dodong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basurero (sabi ke Inday): Be careful  in letting go of the things you  thought are just nothing because maybe  someday you'll realize that the  one you gave away is the very thing  you've been wishing for to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******** ITO NA UNG UPDATE *********&lt;br /&gt;Eto may update kay INDAY... SA DULO NG KANILANG CONVERSATIONAL MATUTUWA&lt;br /&gt;KA SA SINAPIT NILA.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narinig ang lahat ng amo ni  inday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: Mula ngayon, walang magsasalita  ng ingles, sinumang magpadugo ng ilong&lt;br /&gt;ko at sa anak ko, palalayasin sa  pamamahay na ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: Ang namutawi sa inyong labi ay  mataman ko pong iimbak sa sulok ng&lt;br /&gt;aking balintataw, kaibuturan ng aking  puso, gugunam- gunamin. Sakbibi ng&lt;br /&gt;madlang lumbay kung mapapaalis sa  gunita yaring tinuran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: Leche, di kami sinauna!!! Yung  makabago ang gusto ko !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inday: Tarush! Pachenes pa tong chorva  eklavuboo chuva tabayishki kun&lt;br /&gt;suplandish ...:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo: [ nagpakamatay ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2057389046237247097?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2057389046237247097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/ang-balintataw-ni-inday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2057389046237247097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2057389046237247097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/ang-balintataw-ni-inday.html' title='Ang Balintataw ni Inday'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/ScL9xRgmL3I/AAAAAAAAAXA/l-Ic5bYlpKE/s72-c/inday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-5676633272303318376</id><published>2009-03-17T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T05:57:17.453-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resignation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adult life'/><title type='text'>Being 8 Years Old Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SeM2mDboGyI/AAAAAAAAAZg/N5BayRL0lnw/s1600-h/SDC10871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SeM2mDboGyI/AAAAAAAAAZg/N5BayRL0lnw/s400/SDC10871.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324159211866168098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to go to Jollibee and think that it's a four star restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to think Cloud 9 Chocolate bars are better than money because you can eat them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to lie under a big Santol tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to return to a time when life was simple. When all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care. All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to believe that anything is possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, here's my cellphone and my laptop, my credit card and my ATM cards. I am officially resigning from adulthood. And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to find me first, and recite... "Tago-taguan maliwanag ang buwan.. tayo’y maglaro ng tagu-taguan… isa.. dalawa… tatlo”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-5676633272303318376?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/5676633272303318376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/being-8-years-old-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5676633272303318376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5676633272303318376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/being-8-years-old-again.html' title='Being 8 Years Old Again'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SeM2mDboGyI/AAAAAAAAAZg/N5BayRL0lnw/s72-c/SDC10871.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7791361131928094947</id><published>2009-03-14T02:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T02:10:48.808-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the son'/><title type='text'>The Son</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sbt0Sdkv21I/AAAAAAAAAWY/XCwnMdhv0Ks/s1600-h/the+son.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sbt0Sdkv21I/AAAAAAAAAWY/XCwnMdhv0Ks/s200/the+son.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312968045938858834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life... He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.' The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.' But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another voice angrily. 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandts. Get on with the&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real bids!' But still the auctioneer continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting..' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'We have $10, who will bid $20?' 'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.' The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!' A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Now let's get on with the collection!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What about the paintings?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'I am sorry... When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man who took the son gets everything!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The son, the son, who'll take the son?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, WHO SO EVER BELIEVETH, SHALL HAVE ETERNAL LIFE...THAT'S LOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7791361131928094947?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7791361131928094947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/son.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7791361131928094947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7791361131928094947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/son.html' title='The Son'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sbt0Sdkv21I/AAAAAAAAAWY/XCwnMdhv0Ks/s72-c/the+son.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1488784370519897265</id><published>2009-03-03T04:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T04:13:29.515-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='after sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='men'/><title type='text'>What Men Should Never Say After Sex</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sa0eU4InPrI/AAAAAAAAATw/f7PC8gE1e8o/s1600-h/04discuss_jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sa0eU4InPrI/AAAAAAAAATw/f7PC8gE1e8o/s320/04discuss_jpg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308932879754411698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;1) "I was kidding about being sterile, you know."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;2) "Do you always fart like that when someone shoves it in?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;3) "How come it's so BIG in there?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;4) "You've done this with a lotta guys before---right?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;5) "Next time I come over, don't bother with the underwear, OK?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;6) (Sniff, sniff) "Is that CAT food?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;7) (Yelling) "OK guys, it's a wrap, cut, and print it!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;8) "You are great in bed, but your sister gives better head!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;9) "My first wife was prettier, but you can screw a lot better."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;10) "Do you know what a 'douche' is ?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;11) "Maybe if you did some pushups, your boobs would grow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;12) "I want you to try some of MY deodorant."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;13) "I'm not into relationships. Can't we just screw, like every Tuesday night or something?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;14) "Maybe if you lost some weight, I could get it all the way in!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;15) "I never saw a girl with hairy tits before !"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;16) "I've been getting these little blisters lately-------"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;17) "You wanna do those dishes before you leave ?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;18) "You should go wash that, the cabbie will think something DIED in th&lt;/span&gt;ere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1488784370519897265?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1488784370519897265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-men-should-never-say-after-sex.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1488784370519897265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1488784370519897265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-men-should-never-say-after-sex.html' title='What Men Should Never Say After Sex'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sa0eU4InPrI/AAAAAAAAATw/f7PC8gE1e8o/s72-c/04discuss_jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2353763550965240854</id><published>2009-03-03T03:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T03:58:42.045-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='computer'/><title type='text'>What Gender is a Computer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sa0a2ex0EMI/AAAAAAAAATo/4Fto9b0dA_k/s1600-h/confused_desktop_computer_cartoon_character.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 191px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sa0a2ex0EMI/AAAAAAAAATo/4Fto9b0dA_k/s200/confused_desktop_computer_cartoon_character.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308929059016937666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A language instructor was explaining to her class that French nouns, unlike their English counterparts, are grammatically designated as masculine or feminine. Things like 'chalk' or 'pencil,' she described, would have a gender association although in English these words were neutral. Puzzled, one student raised his hand and asked, "What gender is a computer?" The teacher wasn't certain which it was, and so divided the class into two groups and asked them to decide if a computer should be masculine or feminine. One group was composed of the women in the class, and the other, of men. Both groups were asked to give four reasons for their recommendation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group of women concluded that computers should be referred to in the masculine gender because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. In order to get their attention, you have to turn them on.&lt;br /&gt;2. They have a lot of data but are still clueless.&lt;br /&gt;3. They are supposed to help you solve your problems, but half the time they ARE the problem.&lt;br /&gt;4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that, if you had waited a little longer, you might have had a better model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The men, on the other hand, decided that computers should definitely be referred to in the feminine gender because:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic.&lt;br /&gt;2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;3. Even your smallest mistakes are stored in long-term memory for later retrieval.&lt;br /&gt;4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.&lt;img src="http://www.funnyhumor.com/viewcount.php?type=joke&amp;amp;id=559&amp;amp;s=" border="0" width="1" height="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;http://www.funnyhumor.com/jokes/559.php&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2353763550965240854?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2353763550965240854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-gender-is-computer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2353763550965240854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2353763550965240854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-gender-is-computer.html' title='What Gender is a Computer?'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/Sa0a2ex0EMI/AAAAAAAAATo/4Fto9b0dA_k/s72-c/confused_desktop_computer_cartoon_character.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-8355989101723866393</id><published>2009-02-09T02:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T02:25:07.089-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping others'/><title type='text'>The Difference Between Heaven &amp; Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SZAEKAIt6nI/AAAAAAAAARw/ak8FCt3AHXg/s1600-h/spoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SZAEKAIt6nI/AAAAAAAAARw/ak8FCt3AHXg/s400/spoon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300741331296840306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A holy man was having a conversation with the Lord one day and said,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Lord, I would like to know what Heaven and Hell are like."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The Lord led the holy man to two doors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;He opened one of the doors and the holy man looked in. In the middle of the room was a large round table. In the middle of the table was a large pot of stew, which smelled delicious and made the holy man's mouth water. The people sitting around the table were thin and sickly. They appeared to be famished. They were holding spoons with v ery long handles that were strapped to their arms and each found it possible to reach into the pot of stew and take a spoonful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;But because the handle was longer than their arms, they could not get the spoons back into their mouths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The holy man shuddered at the sight of their misery and suffering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The Lord said, "You have seen Hell."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;They went to the next room and opened the door. It was exactly the same as the first one. There was the large round table with the large pot of stew which made the holy man's mouth water. The people were equipped with the same long-handled spoons, but here the people were well nourished and plump, laughing and talking. The holy man said, "I don't understand." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"It is simple," said the Lord. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;'It requires but one skill. You see they have learned to feed each other, while the greedy think only of themselves.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-8355989101723866393?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/8355989101723866393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/difference-between-heaven-hell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8355989101723866393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/8355989101723866393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/difference-between-heaven-hell.html' title='The Difference Between Heaven &amp; Hell'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SZAEKAIt6nI/AAAAAAAAARw/ak8FCt3AHXg/s72-c/spoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-3601233103015323432</id><published>2009-02-09T01:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T02:00:33.974-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pinoy love affair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><title type='text'>Landian 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SY_-j7qCoHI/AAAAAAAAARo/fGMqV2D_dXo/s1600-h/Fanart_Shii_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SY_-j7qCoHI/AAAAAAAAARo/fGMqV2D_dXo/s400/Fanart_Shii_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300735179701264498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. "Kung hindi mo mahal ang isang tao, wag ka nang magpakita ng motibo para mahalin ka nya.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. "Huwag mong bitawan ang bagay na hindi mo kayang makitang hawak ng iba."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. "Huwag mong hawakan kung alam mong bibitawan mo lang."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. "Huwag na huwag ka hahawak kapag alam mong may hawak ka na."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. "Parang elevator lang yan eh, bakit mo pagsisiksikan ung sarili mo kung walang pwesto para sayo. Eh meron naman hagdan, ayaw mo lang pansinin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. "Kung maghihintay ka nang lalandi sayo, walang mangyayari sa buhay mo. Dapat lumandi ka din."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. "Pag may mahal ka at ayaw sayo, hayaan mo. Malay mo sa mga susunod na araw ayaw mo na din sa kanya, naunahan ka  lang."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. "Hiwalayan na kung di ka na masaya. Walang gamot sa tanga kundi pagkukusa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. "Pag hindi ka mahal ng mahal mo wag ka magreklamo. Kasi may mga tao rin na di mo mahal pero mahal ka. Kaya quits lang."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. "Kung dalawa ang mahal mo, piliin mo yung pangalawa. Kasi hindi ka naman magmamahal ng iba kung mahal mo talaga yung una."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. "Hindi porke't madalas mong ka-chat, kausap sa telepono, kasama sa mga lakad o ka-text ng wantusawa eh may gusto sayo at magkakatuluyan kayo. Meron lang talagang mga taong sadyang friendly, sweet, flirt, malandi, pa-fall o paasa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. "Huwag magmadali sa lalaki o babae. Tatlo, lima , sampung taon, mag-iiba ang pamantayan mo at maiisip mong hindi pala tamang pumili ng kapareha dahil lang maganda o nakakalibog ito. Totoong mas mahalaga ang kalooban ng tao higit sa anuman. Sa paglipas ng panahon, maging ang mga crush ng bayan nagmumukha ding pandesal, maniwala ka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. "Minsan kahit ikaw ang nakaschedule, kailangan mo pa rin maghintay, kasi hindi ikaw ang priority."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. "Mahirap pumapel sa buhay ng tao. Lalo na kung hindi ikaw yung bida sa script na pinili nya."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. "Alam mo ba kung gaano kalayo ang pagitan ng dalawang tao pag nagtalikuran na sila? Kailangan mong libutin ang buong mundo para lang makaharap ulit ang taong tinalikuran mo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. "Mas mabuting mabigo sa paggawa ng isang bagay kesa magtagumpay sa paggawa ng wala.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. "Hindi lahat ng kaya mong intindihin ay katotohan, at hindi lahat ng hindi mo kayang intindihin ay kasinungalingan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. "Kung nagmahal ka ng taong di dapat at nasaktan ka, wag mong sisihin ang puso mo. Tumitibok lang yan para mag-supply ng dugo sa katawan mo. Ngayon, kung magaling ka sa anatomy at ang sisisihin mo naman ay ang hypothalamus mo na kumokontrol ng emotions mo, mali ka pa rin! Bakit? Utang na loob! Wag mong isisi sa body organs mo ang mga sama ng loob mo sa buhay! Tandaan mo: magiging masaya ka lang kung matututo kang tanggapin na hindi ang puso, utak, atay o bituka mo ang may kasalanan sa lahat ng nangyari sayo, kundi IKAW mismo!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. "Pakawalan mo yung mga bagay na nakakasakit sa iyo kahit na pinasasaya ka nito. Wag mong hintayin ang araw na sakit na lang ang nararamdaman mo at iniwan ka na ng kasiyahan mo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. "Gamitin ang puso para alagaan ang mga taong malalapit sa iyo. Gamitin ang utak para alagaan ang sarili mo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. "Ang pag-ibig parang imburnal...nakakatakot mahulog...at kapag nahulog ka, it's either by accident or talagang tanga ka."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-3601233103015323432?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/3601233103015323432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/landian-101.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3601233103015323432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3601233103015323432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/landian-101.html' title='Landian 101'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SY_-j7qCoHI/AAAAAAAAARo/fGMqV2D_dXo/s72-c/Fanart_Shii_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-4703158824386719707</id><published>2009-02-05T18:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:01:50.666-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='atheist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>The Atheist and the Bear</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYugPj9D9JI/AAAAAAAAARg/GH-cz5PkgdY/s1600-h/Bear_eating_atheist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYugPj9D9JI/AAAAAAAAARg/GH-cz5PkgdY/s320/Bear_eating_atheist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299505575741355154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;An atheist was taking a walk through the woods.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"What majestic trees!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What powerful rivers!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What beautiful animals!"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he was walking alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He turned to look. He saw a 7 foot grizzly charge towards him.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the bear was closing in on him.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He looked over his shoulder again, and the bear was even closer.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He tripped and fell on the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rolled over to pick himself up but saw the bear right on top of him, reaching for him with his left paw and raising his right paw to strike him.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that instant the Atheist cried out: "Oh my GOD!..."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time stopped.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The bear froze.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The forest was silent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You deny my existence for all of these years, teach others I don't exist, and even credit creation to a cosmic accident.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer?"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The atheist looked directly into the light, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask You to treat me as a Christian now, but perhaps could you make the BEAR a Christian?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Very well," said the voice.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The light went out.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The sounds of the forest resumed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together and bowed his head and spoke:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;"Lord, bless this food which I am about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-4703158824386719707?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/4703158824386719707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/atheist-and-bear.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4703158824386719707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4703158824386719707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/atheist-and-bear.html' title='The Atheist and the Bear'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYugPj9D9JI/AAAAAAAAARg/GH-cz5PkgdY/s72-c/Bear_eating_atheist.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-9010047429810203073</id><published>2009-02-05T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T18:21:08.966-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heaven'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forrest gump'/><title type='text'>Forrest Gump in the Gates of Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYueeSmuoSI/AAAAAAAAARY/esvZvK-L0Xo/s1600-h/forrest-gump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYueeSmuoSI/AAAAAAAAARY/esvZvK-L0Xo/s320/forrest-gump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299503629759062306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Forrest Gump dies and goes to Heaven. He is at the Pearly Gates, met by St. Peter himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the gates are closed and Forrest approaches the Gatekeeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter says, "Well, Forrest, it's certainly good to see you. We have heard a lot about you. I must tell you, though, that the place is filling up fast, and we've been administering an entrance examination for everyone. The test is short, but you have to pass it before you can get into Heaven."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forrest responds, "It shor is good to be here St. Peter, sir. But nobody ever tolt me about any entrance exam. Shor hope the test ain't too hard; life was a big enough test as it was."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter goes on, "Yes, I know, Forrest, but the test is only three questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First: What two days of the week begin with the letter T?&lt;br /&gt;Second: How many seconds are there in a year?&lt;br /&gt;Third: What is God's first name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forrest leaves to think the questions over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He returns the next day and sees St. Peter who waves him up and says, "Now that you have had a chance to think the questions over, tell me your answers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forrest says, "Well, the first one- which two days in the week begin With the letter "T"? Shucks, that one's easy. That'd be Today and Tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Saint's eyes open wide and he exclaims, "Forrest, that's not what I was thinking, but .....you do have a point, and I guess I didn't specify, so I'll give you credit for that answer. How about the next one?" asks St.Peter. "How many seconds in a year?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now that one's harder," says Forrest, "but I thunk and thunk about that and I guess the only answer can be twelve."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astounded, St. Peter says, "Twelve? Twelve!? Forrest, how in Heaven's name could you come up with twelve seconds in a year?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forest says "Shucks, there's gotta be twelve: January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd. . ." "Hold it," interrupts St. Peter. "I see where you're going with this, and see your point, though that wasn't quite what I had in mind..... but I'll have to give you credit for that one, too. Let's go on with the third and final question. Can you tell me God's first name"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure" Forrest replied, "its Andy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Andy?!" exclaimed an exasperated and frustrated St. Peter. "Ok, I can understand how you came up with your answers to my first two questions, but just how in the world did you come up with the name Andy as the first name of God?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shucks, that was the easiest one of all," Forrest replied. "I learnt it from school. . . . ANDY NAME OF THE FATHER, OF THE SON?.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter opened the Pearly Gates and said: "Run Forrest, run!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-9010047429810203073?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/9010047429810203073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/forrest-gump-in-gates-of-heaven.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/9010047429810203073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/9010047429810203073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/forrest-gump-in-gates-of-heaven.html' title='Forrest Gump in the Gates of Heaven'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYueeSmuoSI/AAAAAAAAARY/esvZvK-L0Xo/s72-c/forrest-gump.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-5200387256284992618</id><published>2009-02-04T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T23:23:37.895-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping others'/><title type='text'>The Ass and the Mule</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYqTu4r2A1I/AAAAAAAAARQ/gFFB5Ap8Hak/s1600-h/mule16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 179px; height: 374px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYqTu4r2A1I/AAAAAAAAARQ/gFFB5Ap8Hak/s400/mule16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299210345254355794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A Muleteer set forth on a journey, driving before him an Ass and a Mule, both well laden. The Ass, as long as he traveled along the plain, carried his load with ease, but when he began to ascend the steep path of the mountain, felt his load to be more than he could bear. He entreated his companion to relieve him of a small portion, that he might carry home the rest; but the Mule paid no attention to the request. The Ass shortly afterwards fell down dead under his burden. Not knowing what else to do in so wild a region, the Muleteer placed upon the Mule the load carried by the Ass in addition to his own, and at the top of all placed the hide of the Ass, after he had skinned him. The Mule, groaning beneath his heavy burden, said to himself: "I am treated according to my deserts. If I had only been willing to assist the Ass a little in his need, I should not now be bearing, together with his burden, himself as well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;Source: Unknown , Author : Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-5200387256284992618?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/5200387256284992618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/ass-and-mule.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5200387256284992618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5200387256284992618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/ass-and-mule.html' title='The Ass and the Mule'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYqTu4r2A1I/AAAAAAAAARQ/gFFB5Ap8Hak/s72-c/mule16.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-6618178197802558430</id><published>2009-02-04T22:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T22:57:23.728-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><title type='text'>The Three Trees</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYqLMRFn0BI/AAAAAAAAARI/-QKiqkQyN8s/s1600-h/10510_mediumLarger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYqLMRFn0BI/AAAAAAAAARI/-QKiqkQyN8s/s320/10510_mediumLarger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299200954416484370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said,&lt;br /&gt;"Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the second tree said, "Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Finally the third tree said, "I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, "This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter" ... and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;At the second tree a woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard." The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from my tree so I'll take this one", and he cut it down.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark. The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said "Peace" and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;Source: Unknown, Author: Unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-6618178197802558430?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/6618178197802558430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-trees.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6618178197802558430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6618178197802558430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/02/three-trees.html' title='The Three Trees'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYqLMRFn0BI/AAAAAAAAARI/-QKiqkQyN8s/s72-c/10510_mediumLarger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-576780557819589323</id><published>2009-01-28T22:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T00:13:40.668-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blessing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>Looking at the Wrong Side</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYFk9jaXEcI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-2r424gNHLw/s1600-h/riffe_giftwrap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYFk9jaXEcI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-2r424gNHLw/s400/riffe_giftwrap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296625645405016514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A young man was getting ready to graduate college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curious, but somewhat disappointed the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible. Angrily, he raised his voice at his father and said, "With all your money you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of the house, leaving the holy book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years passed and the young man became a miserable drunkard. He had no home and broken family. He realized his father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care things. When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began to search his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago. With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. As he read those words, a car key dropped from an envelope taped behind the Bible. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words...PAID IN FULL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times do we miss God's blessings because they are not packaged as we expected?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-576780557819589323?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/576780557819589323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/looking-at-wrong-side.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/576780557819589323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/576780557819589323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/looking-at-wrong-side.html' title='Looking at the Wrong Side'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SYFk9jaXEcI/AAAAAAAAAQw/-2r424gNHLw/s72-c/riffe_giftwrap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7229435063530582518</id><published>2009-01-25T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T21:43:58.898-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex legend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='other self'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hug'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embrace'/><title type='text'>The Legend of SEX</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SX1MeQ8KQCI/AAAAAAAAAPg/LC17Mwzvukk/s1600-h/thetouch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SX1MeQ8KQCI/AAAAAAAAAPg/LC17Mwzvukk/s320/thetouch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295472819684655138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;According to Plato, at the beginning of creation, men and women were not as they are now; there was just one being, who was rather short, with a body and a neck, but his head had two faces, looking in different directions. It was as if two creatures had been glued back to back, with two sets of sex organs, four legs and four arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Greeks gods, however, were jealous, because this creature with four arms could work harder; with its two faces, it is always vigilant and could not be taken by surprise; and its four legs meant that it could stand or walk for long periods at a time without tiring. Even more dangerous was the fact that the creature had two different sets of sex organs and so needed no one else in order to continue reproducing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zeus, the supreme lord of Olympus, said “I have a plan to make these mortals lose some of their strength.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he cut the creature in two with a lightning bolt, thus creating the man and women. This greatly increased the population of the world, and, at the same time, disoriented and weakened its inhabitants, because now, they had to search for their lost half and embrace it and, in that embrace, regain their former strength, their ability to avoid betrayal and their stamina to walk for long periods of time and to withstand hard work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That embrace in which the two bodies re-fuse to become one again is what we call sex.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;Source: (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lifted from the book)&lt;/span&gt; Coelho, Paulo. 2004.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;Eleven Minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;,.New York ,New York:HarperCollins Publisher Inc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);font-size:85%;" &gt;ISBN : 0-06-072675-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 153);"&gt;Photo Credit : Yuroz "The Touch"  Serigraph on Canvas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7229435063530582518?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7229435063530582518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/legend-of-sex.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7229435063530582518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7229435063530582518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/legend-of-sex.html' title='The Legend of SEX'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SX1MeQ8KQCI/AAAAAAAAAPg/LC17Mwzvukk/s72-c/thetouch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-3583789046381921744</id><published>2009-01-15T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T03:13:50.172-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tips'/><title type='text'>Tips for guys who goes shopping against their will</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SW8LSNdLttI/AAAAAAAAANY/eg33XGozMMw/s1600-h/shopping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SW8LSNdLttI/AAAAAAAAANY/eg33XGozMMw/s400/shopping.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291460494661236434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My girlfriend, female friends and my sister sometimes insists that I accompany them on their trips to Department Stores and sometimes in tiangge. Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to make alibis and get out. Nakakapanlumo (very tiring) as I usually describe it. Equally unfortunately, my girlfriend, female friends and also my sister is like most women - - they loved to browse and they have the power to persuade......... against your will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all guys out there, a friend sent me some tips to enjoy shopping with girls:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Take 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they&lt;br /&gt;weren't looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'There’s an emergency in Housewares. Get on it right away.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Went to the Service Desk and try to put a bag of M&amp;amp;M's on layaway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Moved a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Set up a tent in the camping department and tell other shoppers you’d invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. When a clerk asked if they could help you, began crying and scream, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while you picked your nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. While handling guns in the hunting department, asked the clerk where the&lt;br /&gt;antidepressants were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Dart around the store, suspiciously, while loudly humming theMission&lt;br /&gt;Impossible' theme ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. In the auto department, practice 'Madonna look' by using different&lt;br /&gt;sizes of funnels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. When an announcement came over the loud speaker, assume a fetal position&lt;br /&gt;and scream 'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last, but not least...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Went into a fitting room, shut the door, wait awhile, and then yelled very loudly, 'Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!'&lt;br /&gt;_______&lt;br /&gt;Ha ha.. have fun guys!!! Surely these girls will not invite you again against your will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-3583789046381921744?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/3583789046381921744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/tips-for-guys-who-goes-shopping-against.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3583789046381921744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3583789046381921744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/tips-for-guys-who-goes-shopping-against.html' title='Tips for guys who goes shopping against their will'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SW8LSNdLttI/AAAAAAAAANY/eg33XGozMMw/s72-c/shopping.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7600659738642408330</id><published>2009-01-14T17:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T17:38:04.292-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miracle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping others'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Centeredness'/><title type='text'>How Much Does A  Miracle Cost</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SW6TABIOt4I/AAAAAAAAAMo/x5op0wEnwY0/s1600-h/fgr_brother_and_sister.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SW6TABIOt4I/AAAAAAAAAMo/x5op0wEnwY0/s320/fgr_brother_and_sister.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291328240719148930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'And what do you want?' the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages,' he said without waiting for a reply to his question. 'Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,' Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. 'He's really, really sick...and I want to buy a miracle.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'I beg your pardon?' said the pharmacist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now So how much does a miracle cost?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you,' the pharmacist said, softening a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me ho w much it costs.' The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, 'What kind of a miracle does your brother need?' ' I don't know,' Tess replied with her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;eyes welling up. I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'How much do you have?' asked the man from Chicago 'One dollar and eleven cents,' Tess answered barely audibly. 'And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'Well, what a coincidence,' smiled the man. 'A dollar and eleven cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. ' He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said 'Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;That well dressed man was Dr. Yodz Insigne, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;'That surgery,' her Mom whispered. 'was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven cents....plus the faith of a little child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need... A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7600659738642408330?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7600659738642408330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-much-does-miracle-cost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7600659738642408330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7600659738642408330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-much-does-miracle-cost.html' title='How Much Does A  Miracle Cost'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SW6TABIOt4I/AAAAAAAAAMo/x5op0wEnwY0/s72-c/fgr_brother_and_sister.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-6188678237172381450</id><published>2009-01-08T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T17:44:13.690-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sacrifice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letting go'/><title type='text'>Love and Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWar4s3cGMI/AAAAAAAAALw/rjUgVckWFoc/s1600-h/LettingGoPrint.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWar4s3cGMI/AAAAAAAAALw/rjUgVckWFoc/s320/LettingGoPrint.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289103802997938370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once this guy who is very much in love with his girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, at that time he was just a small fry in his company, his future didn't seem too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the both of them, so they went their own ways there and then...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartbroken, the guy agreed. But when he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally with all the hard work and the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never fail until you stop trying. One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn't take him long to realize they were his girl's parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn't the same any more; he had his own company, car, condo, etc. He made it! What he saw next confused him, the couple was  walking towards a cemetery, and so he got out of his car and followed...and he saw his girl, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone and he saw his paper cranes right beside her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her parents saw him. He asked them why this had happened. They explained.. She did not leave for France at all. She was ill with cancer. She had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want to be his obstacle... therefore she had chosen to leave him. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. She had wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again...he can take some of those back with him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you have loved, you will always love. For what's in your mind may escape but what's in your heart will remain forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy just wept...The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside her knowing you can't have her, see her or be with her ever again.........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find time to realize that there is one person who means so much to you, for you might wake up one morning losing that person who you thought meant nothing to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-6188678237172381450?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/6188678237172381450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-and-sacrifice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6188678237172381450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6188678237172381450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-and-sacrifice.html' title='Love and Sacrifice'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWar4s3cGMI/AAAAAAAAALw/rjUgVckWFoc/s72-c/LettingGoPrint.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7027188316866759050</id><published>2009-01-07T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T00:38:01.228-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='overcoming hardship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='right attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='financial crisis'/><title type='text'>Are you a Carrot, an Egg, or Coffee Bean?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWRm21JidkI/AAAAAAAAALA/obqUDLii4hM/s1600-h/coffee_carrot_egg+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWRm21JidkI/AAAAAAAAALA/obqUDLii4hM/s320/coffee_carrot_egg+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288464954605860418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;This story was included in the speech of Capt. Emmanuel L. Regio, President &amp;amp; CEO of Island Overseas Transport Corporation - and also my boss,  during our X-mas party last December 2008.  This story is about the right attitude during hardship and was very timely in today's global financial crisis.&lt;br /&gt;I made a powerpoint presentation for this which I will post in my other blog (colorblindyodz). The story goes like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;_____________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life, and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it, and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first pot, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs and the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In about twenty minutes she, turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what do you see?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied. She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. She then asked her to take the egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, she asked her to smell and sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity- boiling water-but each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Which are you?" she asked her daughter.&lt;br /&gt;"When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a break-up, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside, am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWRo-iVzy4I/AAAAAAAAALI/MPMsh5bKmIs/s1600-h/eastgatevillagers_carrot+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWRo-iVzy4I/AAAAAAAAALI/MPMsh5bKmIs/s320/eastgatevillagers_carrot+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288467286019263362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Like when there’s economic problem, you’d rather find remedies instead of whining and complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you handle adversity?&lt;br /&gt;Are you a CARROT, an EGG, OR a COFFEE BEAN?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best of everything; they just MAKE the most of everything; that comes along their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7027188316866759050?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7027188316866759050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/are-you-carrot-egg-or-coffee-bean.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7027188316866759050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7027188316866759050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/are-you-carrot-egg-or-coffee-bean.html' title='Are you a Carrot, an Egg, or Coffee Bean?'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWRm21JidkI/AAAAAAAAALA/obqUDLii4hM/s72-c/coffee_carrot_egg+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1150780310914065454</id><published>2009-01-04T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T17:28:57.141-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dr. Yodz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kindness'/><title type='text'>Kindness Pays</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWaoSCNblRI/AAAAAAAAALo/W1nOhMiadZc/s1600-h/kindness_is.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWaoSCNblRI/AAAAAAAAALo/W1nOhMiadZc/s320/kindness_is.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289099840177542418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only two pesos left, and he was hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk.. He drank it slowly, and then asked, "How much do I owe you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't owe me anything," she replied "Mother has taught us never to accept payment for a kindness." He said... "Then I thank you from my heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Yodz Insigne left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled.. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr. Yodz! Insigne was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room. Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Yodz requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally, she looked, and something caught her attention on the side as she read these words.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Paid in full with one glass of milk." (Signed) Dr. Yodz Insigne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart prayed: "Thank You, GOD, that Your love has spread abroad through human hearts and hands."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1150780310914065454?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1150780310914065454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/kindness-pays.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1150780310914065454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1150780310914065454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2009/01/kindness-pays.html' title='Kindness Pays'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SWaoSCNblRI/AAAAAAAAALo/W1nOhMiadZc/s72-c/kindness_is.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-6939455988832828568</id><published>2008-12-17T16:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T16:43:27.575-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino Abroad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino Catholics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Filipino Culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family Centeredness'/><title type='text'>Filipino Catholics in the Eyes of Foreigners</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUmciTtHjmI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tziz311qHjY/s1600-h/quiapo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 224px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUmciTtHjmI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tziz311qHjY/s400/quiapo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280924151287615074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something very positive written by a foreigner named Steve Ray, about Filipinos. Steve Ray authored many best-selling books, among which are, Crossing The Tiber (his conversion story), Upon This Rock (on the papacy), and just recently John's Gospel (a comprehensive bible study guide and commentary).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEVE RAY'S OPEN LETTER TO THE FILIPINO CATHOLICS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stepped into the church and it was old and a bit dark. Mass had just begun and we sat toward the front. We didn't know what to expect here in Istanbul , Turkey. I guess we expected it to be a sombre Mass but quiet and sombre it was not - I thought I heard angels joyously singing behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voices were rich, melodic and beautiful. What I discovered as I spun around to look did not surprise me because I had seen and heard the same thing in other churches around the world. It was not a choir of angels with feathered wings and halos but a group of delightful Filipino Catholics with smiles of delight and joy on their faces as they worshiped God and sang His praises. I had seen this many times before in Rome , in Israel ,in the United States and other countries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipinos have special traits and they are beautifully expressed as I gazed at the happy throng giving thanks to God. What are the special traits which characterize these happy people? I will share a few that I have noticed- personal observations- as I have travelled around the world, including visits to the Philippines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIRST, there is a sense of community, of family. These Filipino Christians did not sit apart from each other in different isles. They sat together, closely. They didn't just sing quietly, mumbling, or simply mouthing the words. No, they raised their voices in harmony together as though they enjoyed the sense of unity and communion among them. They are family even if they are not related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SECOND, they have an inner peace and joy which is rare in the world today. When most of the world's citizens are worried and fretful, I have found Filipinos to have joy and peace - a deep sense of God's love that over shadows them. They have problems too, and many in the Philippines have less material goods than others in the world, yet there is still a sense of happy trust in God and love of neighbour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIRD, there is a love for God and for his Son Jesus that is almost synonymous with the word Filipino. There is also something that Filipinos are famous for around the world - their love for the Blessed Mother. Among the many Filipinos I have met, the affectionate title for Mary I always hear from their lips is "Mama Mary." For these gentle folks Mary is not just a theological idea, a historical person, or a statue in a church - Mary is the mother of their Lord and their mother as well, their "mama."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Philippines is a Catholic nation-the only such nation in Asia –and this wonderful country exports missionaries around the world. They are not hired to be missionaries, not official workers of the church. No, they are workers and educators, doctors, nurses and housekeepers that go to other lands and travel to the far reaches of the earth, and everywhere they go they take the joyous gospel of Jesus with them. They make a sombre Mass joyful when they burst into song. They convict the pagan of sin as they always keep the love of Jesus and the Eucharist central in their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hope and prayer, while I am here in the Philippines sharing my conversion story from Baptist Protestant to Roman Catholic, is that the Filipino people will continue to keep these precious qualities. I pray that they will continue loving their families, loving the Catholic Church, reading the Bible, loving Jesus, His Mother and the Eucharist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many other religions and sects try to persuade them to leave the Church, may God give the wisdom to defend the Catholic faith. As the world tempts them to sin and seek only money and fame and power, may God grant them the serenity to always remember that obedience to Christ and love for God is far more important than all the riches the world can offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May the wonderful Filipino people continue to be a light of the Gospel to the whole world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be a proud Filipino.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-6939455988832828568?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/6939455988832828568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/filipino-catholics-in-eyes-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6939455988832828568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/6939455988832828568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/filipino-catholics-in-eyes-of.html' title='Filipino Catholics in the Eyes of Foreigners'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUmciTtHjmI/AAAAAAAAAKo/tziz311qHjY/s72-c/quiapo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-1503470803820686438</id><published>2008-12-16T01:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T01:17:45.124-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mathematics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='math symmetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love of god'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attitude'/><title type='text'>The Beauty of Mathematics</title><content type='html'>1 x 8 + 1 = 9&lt;br /&gt;12 x 8 + 2 = 98&lt;br /&gt;123 x 8 + 3 = 987&lt;br /&gt;1234 x 8 + 4 = 9876&lt;br /&gt;12345 x 8 + 5 = 98765&lt;br /&gt;123456 x 8 + 6 = 987654&lt;br /&gt;1234567 x 8 + 7 = 9876543&lt;br /&gt;12345678 x 8 + 8 = 98765432&lt;br /&gt;123456789 x 8 + 9 = 987654321&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 x 9 + 2 = 11&lt;br /&gt;12 x 9 + 3 = 111&lt;br /&gt;123 x 9 + 4 = 1111&lt;br /&gt;1234 x 9 + 5 = 11111&lt;br /&gt;12345 x 9 + 6 = 111111&lt;br /&gt;123456 x 9 + 7 = 1111111&lt;br /&gt;1234567 x 9 + 8 = 11111111&lt;br /&gt;12345678 x 9 + 9 = 111111111&lt;br /&gt;123456789 x 9 +10= 1111111111&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 x 9 + 7 = 88&lt;br /&gt;98 x 9 + 6 = 888&lt;br /&gt;987 x 9 + 5 = 8888&lt;br /&gt;9876 x 9 + 4 = 88888&lt;br /&gt;98765 x 9 + 3 = 888888&lt;br /&gt;987654 x 9 + 2 = 8888888&lt;br /&gt;9876543 x 9 + 1 = 88888888&lt;br /&gt;98765432 x 9 + 0 = 888888888&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilliant, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look at this symmetry:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 x 1 = 1&lt;br /&gt;11 x 11 = 121&lt;br /&gt;111 x 111 = 12321&lt;br /&gt;1111 x 1111 = 1234321&lt;br /&gt;11111 x 11111 = 123454321&lt;br /&gt;111111 x 111111 = 12345654321&lt;br /&gt;1111111 x 1111111 = 1234567654321&lt;br /&gt;11111111 x 11111111 = 123456787654321&lt;br /&gt;111111111 x 111111111 = 12345678987654321&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, take a look at this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101%&lt;br /&gt;From a strictly mathematical viewpoint:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Equals 100%?&lt;br /&gt;What does it mean to give MORE than 100%?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all been in situations where someone wants you to&lt;br /&gt;GIVE OVER 100%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about ACHIEVING 101%?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What equals 100% in life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little mathematical formula that might help&lt;br /&gt;answer these questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is represented as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H-A-R-D-W-O- R- K&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8+1+18+4+23+ 15+18+11 = 98%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K-N-O-W-L-E- D-G-E&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11+14+15+23+ 12+5+4+7+ 5 = 96%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A-T-T-I-T-U- D-E&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1+20+20+9+20+ 21+4+5 = 100%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN, look how far the love of God will take you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L-O-V-E-O-F- G-O-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12+15+22+5+15+ 6+7+15+4 = 101%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Hard Work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will&lt;br /&gt;get you there, It's the Love of God that will put you over the top!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-1503470803820686438?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/1503470803820686438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/beauty-of-mathematics.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1503470803820686438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/1503470803820686438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/beauty-of-mathematics.html' title='The Beauty of Mathematics'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-879885129819864209</id><published>2008-12-16T00:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T00:47:32.305-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mouse trap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life lesson'/><title type='text'>A Mouse Trap Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUdqpwXb1EI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Wwc7xOzBjak/s1600-h/image001.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 128px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUdqpwXb1EI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Wwc7xOzBjak/s400/image001.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280306353705571394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What food might this contain? The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning :&lt;br /&gt;There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr.Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. " " I cannot be bothered by it."&lt;br /&gt;The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pig sympathized, but said, I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be assured you are in my prayers."&lt;br /&gt;The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."&lt;br /&gt;So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital , and she returned home with a fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The farmer's wife did not get well; she died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.&lt;br /&gt;The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUdq0bR-OQI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/71tCV0uYcyU/s1600-h/image014.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUdq0bR-OQI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/71tCV0uYcyU/s400/image014.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280306537024076034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REMEMBER…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY;&lt;br /&gt;OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-879885129819864209?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/879885129819864209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/mouse-trap-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/879885129819864209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/879885129819864209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/mouse-trap-story.html' title='A Mouse Trap Story'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SUdqpwXb1EI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Wwc7xOzBjak/s72-c/image001.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-5815458058862720914</id><published>2008-12-10T03:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T03:09:24.432-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='computer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yodz'/><title type='text'>Yodz and Lolo Mangyan</title><content type='html'>YODZ and LOLO MANGYAN in the 21st Century&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Yodz Computer Store... Can I help you?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Thanks. I’m setting up an office in my den, and I’m thinking about buying a computer.&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Mac?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: No, the name’s LOLO MANGYAN.&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Your computer?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I don’t own a computer. I want to buy one.&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Mac?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I told you, my name’s LOLO MANGYAN.&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: What about Windows?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Why? Will it get stuffy in here?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Do you want a computer with Windows?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I don’t know. What will I see when I look in the windows?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Wallpaper.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Never mind the windows. I need a computer and software.&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Software for Windows?&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: No. On the computer! I need something I can use to write proposals, track expenses and run my business. What have you got?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Office.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Yeah, for my office. Can you recommend anything?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: I just did.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: You just did what?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Recommend something.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: You recommended something?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: For my office?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Yes&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: OK, what did you recommend for my office?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Office.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Yes, for my office!&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: I recommend Office with windows.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I already have an office and it has windows! OK, let’s just say, I’m sitting at my computer and I want to type a proposal. What do I need?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Word.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: What word?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Word in Office.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: The only word in office is office.&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: The Word in Office for Windows.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Which word in office for windows?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: The Word you get when you click the blue W&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I’m going to click your blue w if you don’t start with some straight answers. OK, forget that. Can I watch movies on the Internet?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Yes, you want Real One.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Maybe a real one, maybe a cartoon. What I watch is none of your business. Just tell me what I need!&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Real One.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: If it’s a long movie I also want to see reel 2, 3 &amp; 4. Can I watch them?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Of course.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Great, with what?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Real One.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: OK, I’m at my computer and I want to watch a movie. What do I do?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: You click the blue 1&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I click the blue one what?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: The blue 1.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Is that different from the blue W?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: The blue 1 is Real One and the blue W is Word.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: What word?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: The word in office for windows.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: But there’s three words in office for windows!&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: No, just one. but it’s the most popular word in the world&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: It is?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Yes, but to be fair, there aren’t many other words left. It pretty much wiped out all the other words out there.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: And that word is real one?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Real One has nothing to do with Word. Real One isn’t even part of Office.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Stop! Don’t start that again. What about financial bookkeeping? Do you have anything I can track my money with?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Money.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: That’s right. What do you have?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Money.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I need money to track my money?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: It comes bundled with your computer.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: What’s bundled to my computer?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Money&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Money comes with my computer?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Yes. No extra charge.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: I get a bundle of money with my computer? How much?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: One copy&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: Isn’t it illegal to copy money?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Microsoft gave us a license to copy money.&lt;br /&gt;LOLO MANGYAN: They can give you a license to copy money?&lt;br /&gt;YODZ: Why not, they own it....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-5815458058862720914?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/5815458058862720914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/yodz-and-lolo-mangyan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5815458058862720914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5815458058862720914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/yodz-and-lolo-mangyan.html' title='Yodz and Lolo Mangyan'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-4842831545951512955</id><published>2008-12-03T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T18:10:40.184-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping others'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yodz'/><title type='text'>I Love You Yodz Insigne</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One day a man saw an old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe; he looked poor and hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was those chills which only fear can put in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "I'm here to help you, ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Yodz Insigne."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Yodz crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from Cavite and was only just passing through. She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yodz just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Yodz never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Yodz added, "And think of me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but she felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Yodz .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a thousand peso bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her thousand peso bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: "You don't owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under the napkin were 30 more 1,000 peso bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard....&lt;br /&gt;She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, "Everything's going to be all right. I love you, Yodz Insigne."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is an old saying "What goes around comes around."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-4842831545951512955?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/4842831545951512955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-love-you-yodz-insigne.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4842831545951512955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/4842831545951512955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-love-you-yodz-insigne.html' title='I Love You Yodz Insigne'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-910701351396444583</id><published>2008-11-28T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T01:30:43.979-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bikol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TNT'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dan Torres'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><title type='text'>Kilala mo ba si Dan Torres ng Bikol?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Si　Danilo "Dan" Torres, isang Bicolano, nagpunta sa　US　para mag &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TNT&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumasok sya ng convenience store para bumili ng yosi.                &lt;br /&gt;Pagdating sa counter, sabi ng cashier, "MASTER VISA?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namutla si Dan! Sa isip-isip nya "Patay!&lt;br /&gt;Hinahanap ang visa ko!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dali-daling lumabas ng tindahan, sumakay ng kotse　at humarurot ng takbo.                                  Paubos na gasolina nya kaya pumasok sa gas station at magpapakarga ng gasolina. &lt;br /&gt;                     &lt;br /&gt;"Unleaded?"tanong ng gasoline attendant.                              &lt;br /&gt;"Unleaded"sagot niDan.                                               &lt;br /&gt;"Pay first."sabi ng attendant.    &lt;br /&gt;                                  &lt;br /&gt;Lalong namutla si Dan! "Patay! Hinahanapan ako ng　papers!"           &lt;br /&gt;Iniwan nya ang kotse!                                                 &lt;br /&gt;at dali-daling?naglakad                                               &lt;br /&gt;papunta sa phonebooth upang tawagan ang kapatid nya sa　New York&lt;br /&gt;       &lt;br /&gt;"AT&amp;amp;T May I help you?"sagot ng operator.                              &lt;br /&gt;Pinagpawisan ng malamig si Dan! "Pati operator                        &lt;br /&gt;alam na TNT ako!"&lt;br /&gt;                                                  &lt;br /&gt;May nakapilang PULIS na gagamit din ng telepono at tanong sa kanya... "&lt;br /&gt;Are you done?"       &lt;br /&gt;                                              &lt;br /&gt;Napatitig na lang si Dan sa PULIS! "Kilala siya...                     &lt;br /&gt;AKO? Alam niyang DAN ang pangalan ko!"      &lt;br /&gt;                       &lt;br /&gt;sa isip-isip nya. Nang di makasagot si Dan,tinanong uli sya ngPULIS,  &lt;br /&gt;"Are you a tourist?"     &lt;br /&gt;                                           &lt;br /&gt;Nanghina si Dan dahil pati apelyido niyang TORRES ay alam din ng PULIS!&lt;br /&gt;At nang hihimatayin na sya, inalalayan sya ng                          &lt;br /&gt;PULIS at sabi "BE COOL!" &lt;br /&gt;                                         &lt;br /&gt;"Inang ko po! Alam din nyang taga Bicol ako! &lt;br /&gt;                      &lt;br /&gt;WAAAHHHH!         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;                                                     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Uuwi na lang ako sa 'pinas!"          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-910701351396444583?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/910701351396444583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/kilala-mo-ba-si-dan-torres-ng-bikol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/910701351396444583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/910701351396444583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/kilala-mo-ba-si-dan-torres-ng-bikol.html' title='Kilala mo ba si Dan Torres ng Bikol?'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2447443139453380771</id><published>2008-11-12T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T22:18:09.872-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random e-mail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chemistry'/><title type='text'>HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvGfcTZeWI/AAAAAAAAAIo/LWWd7WyTGFA/s1600-h/question.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 124px; height: 162px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvGfcTZeWI/AAAAAAAAAIo/LWWd7WyTGFA/s320/question.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268022432615725410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt; &lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;The following is an actual question given  on a &lt;st1&gt;&lt;st1&gt;&lt;st1&gt;&lt;st1&gt;Uni&lt;st1&gt;ver&lt;/st1&gt;sity&lt;/st1&gt;&lt;/st1&gt; of  &lt;st1&gt;&lt;st1&gt;Washington&lt;/st1&gt;&lt;/st1&gt;&lt;/st1&gt;&lt;/st1&gt; chemistry mid  term.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;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 :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or  endothermic (absorbs heat)?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most  of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when  it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some  variant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;One  student, howe&lt;st1&gt;ver&lt;/st1&gt;, wrote the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;First,  we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the  rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which 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,  let's look at the different religions that exist in the world  today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;Most  of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you  will go to Hell. Since there is 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.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;This  gives two possibilities:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;2.  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  o&lt;st1&gt;ver&lt;/st1&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;So  which is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"  style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;color:black;"  lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;If  we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa 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 slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I  am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen o&lt;st1&gt;ver&lt;/st1&gt;. The  corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen o&lt;st1&gt;ver&lt;/st1&gt;, it  follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct.....  .leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which  explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my  God."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;font-size:24;color:black;"   lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN  A+.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: scroll;"&gt;&lt;span style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;font-size:24;color:black;"   lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-AU"&gt;&lt;o&gt;&lt;/o&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2447443139453380771?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2447443139453380771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/hell-explained-by-chemistry-student.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2447443139453380771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2447443139453380771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/hell-explained-by-chemistry-student.html' title='HELL EXPLAINED BY CHEMISTRY STUDENT'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvGfcTZeWI/AAAAAAAAAIo/LWWd7WyTGFA/s72-c/question.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2319547703543019966</id><published>2008-11-12T21:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:56:49.164-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Life is the Coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvAj4MfdaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/9YuSCLHGwn0/s1600-h/Coffee+Lover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 291px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvAj4MfdaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/9YuSCLHGwn0/s320/Coffee+Lover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268015911752660386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A group of alumni, highly  established in their careers, got together to visit their old university  professor. The conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and  in life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Offering his guests coffee, the  professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an  assortment of cups&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;- porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal,  some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - telling them to  help themselves to the coffee. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When all the students had a cup of  coffee in hand, the professor said:&lt;br /&gt;"If you noticed, all the nice looking  expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it  is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of  your problems and stress. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"What all of you really wanted was  coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eyeing  each other's cups. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" face="trebuchet ms"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now consider this: Life is the  coffee and the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just  tools to hold and contain Life, and do not change the quality of Life.  Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee God has  provided. So, don't let the cups drive you ... enjoy the coffee instead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;______________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Source&lt;/span&gt;: forwarded e-mail (unknown)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2319547703543019966?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2319547703543019966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-is-coffee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2319547703543019966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2319547703543019966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-is-coffee.html' title='Life is the Coffee'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvAj4MfdaI/AAAAAAAAAIg/9YuSCLHGwn0/s72-c/Coffee+Lover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-9013063857983565370</id><published>2008-11-11T22:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T22:33:57.117-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alamat'/><title type='text'>Ang Alamat Kung Bakit Nagsisinungaling ang mga Lalaki</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvJ2q6g0LI/AAAAAAAAAIw/AAraGnU8Ztc/s1600-h/liar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 141px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvJ2q6g0LI/AAAAAAAAAIw/AAraGnU8Ztc/s320/liar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268026130209755314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:red;"   &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;to ang alamat kung bakit  nagsi-sinungaling ang mga lalaki.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;Karpintero itong si Yodz at isang araw eh  gumagawa siya ng isang&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;bahay sa tabi ng ilog.Sa lakas ng  pagma-martilyo niya eh nalaglag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;ang martilyo niya sa ilog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umiyak  siya at lumitaw yung guardian angel niya, "tutulungan kita, Yodz"..  .sabay lundag sa ilog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lumabas ito na me hawak na gold hammer, "ito  ba ang martilyo mo?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;  ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hindi po"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lundag uli ang anghel at lumitaw na me  silver hammer, "it ba?"..."hindi po"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lundag uli sa ilog ang  anghel at lumitaw na me ordinary hammer, "ito ba?"..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opo"  ...natuwa ang anghel. "Dahil honest ka, bukod sa martilyo mo, sa 'yo na  rin ang gold and silver hammer"... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makaraan ang ilang  araw, naglalakad si Yodz sa ilog at kasama ang misis niya. Eh sa katangahan,  nalaglag si misis sa ilog...iyak si &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;Jojo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Litaw  si guardian angel, "tutulungan kita"...sabay lundag sa ilog at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;ng lumitaw eh kasama si Paris Hilton, "ito ba ang misis  mo?"...sagot&lt;br /&gt;si Yodz, "opo"...nagalit si anghel, "sinungaling ka.  Akala ko  pa naman mabait ka"... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nag- reason-out si Yodz, "sorry po,  angel...kasi kapag sinabi kong 'Hindi', eh lulundag ka uli sa tubig at pag-litaw  mo eh kasama mo si Jessica Simpson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At pag sinabi ko uli na hindi  siya ang asawa ko, eh lulundag ka uli at ang tunay na misis ko na ang kasama mo.  At dahil sa kabaitan ko, eh ibibigay mo din sa akin sina Paris at Jessica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahirap lang po ako at hindi ko kaya ang me tatlong asawa, kaya  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;'Yes' na lang ang sinagot ko nung una.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:blue;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:red;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: kaya lang naman  nagsi-sinungaling ang mga lalaki&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;color:red;"   &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh for a good and noble  reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-9013063857983565370?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/9013063857983565370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/ang-alamat-kung-bakit-nagsisinungaling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/9013063857983565370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/9013063857983565370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/ang-alamat-kung-bakit-nagsisinungaling.html' title='Ang Alamat Kung Bakit Nagsisinungaling ang mga Lalaki'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRvJ2q6g0LI/AAAAAAAAAIw/AAraGnU8Ztc/s72-c/liar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2339113162649878467</id><published>2008-11-04T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T17:02:09.294-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forwarded e-mail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational poem'/><title type='text'>To My Child - A Sad Dad's Poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264970463661816706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRDuvd98e4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/JjiloAACadY/s400/dad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TO MY CHILD&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this morning,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and smile and say how perfect it is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry and pick you up and take you to the park to play. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concern ed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favourite TV shows. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be grateful that God has given me the greatest gift ever given. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly and screaming inside that little body And when I kiss you goodnight I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It is then, that I will thank God for you, and ask him for nothing, except one more day..............&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;_____________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Author: Unknown (forwarded e-mail)&lt;em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2339113162649878467?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2339113162649878467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/to-my-child-sad-dads-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2339113162649878467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2339113162649878467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/to-my-child-sad-dads-poem.html' title='To My Child - A Sad Dad&apos;s Poem'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SRDuvd98e4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/JjiloAACadY/s72-c/dad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-7449478371642798892</id><published>2008-11-03T04:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T04:16:46.097-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='destiny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='balanced lifestyle'/><title type='text'>Nice Reminder About Living Our Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A very nice reminder to all of us....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SQ7qsF7QKnI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/UyMZPAvL1iw/s1600-h/emperor"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264403057668532850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 95px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SQ7qsF7QKnI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/UyMZPAvL1iw/s400/emperor" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Along time ago, there was an Emperor who told his horseman that if he could ride on his horse and cover as much land area as he likes, then the Emperor would give him the area of land he has covered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sure enough, the horseman quickly jumped onto his horse and rode as fast as possible to cover as much land area as he could. He kept on riding and riding, whipping the horse to go as fast as possible. When he was hungry or tired, he did not stop because he wanted to cover as much area as possible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came to a point when he had covered a substantial area and he was exhausted and was dying. Then he asked himself, "Why did I push myself so hard to cover so much land area? Now I am dying and I only need a very small area to bury myself." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above story is similar with the journey of our Life. We push very hard everyday to make more money, to gain power and recognition. We neglect our health , time with our family and to appreciate the surrounding beauty and the hobbies we love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day when we look back, we will realize that we don't really need that much, but then we cannot turn back time for what we have missed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not about making money, acquiring power or recognition. Life is definitely not about work! Work is only necessary to keep us living so as to enjoy the beauty and pleasures of life. Life is a balance of Work and Play, Family and Personal time. You have to decide how you want to balance your Life. Define your priorities, realize what you are able to compromise but always let some of your decisions be based on your instincts. Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of Life, the whole aim of human existence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, take it easy, do what you want to do and appreciate nature. Life is fragile, Life is short. Do not take Life for granted. Live a balanced lifestyle and enjoy Life! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch your thoughts ; they become words.&lt;br /&gt;Watch your words ; they become actions.&lt;br /&gt;Watch your actions ; they become habits.&lt;br /&gt;Watch your habits; they become character .&lt;br /&gt;Watch your character; it becomes your destiny . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-7449478371642798892?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/7449478371642798892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/nice-reminder-about-living-our-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7449478371642798892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/7449478371642798892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/11/nice-reminder-about-living-our-life.html' title='Nice Reminder About Living Our Life'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SQ7qsF7QKnI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/UyMZPAvL1iw/s72-c/emperor' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-2798201067912376275</id><published>2008-10-27T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T23:31:19.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspirational story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='customer service'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='business motivation'/><title type='text'>Are You A Duck or an Eagle?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SQas_Igio7I/AAAAAAAAAHI/MHDeAdMN-BQ/s1600-h/feather+composition2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262083415244710834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SQas_Igio7I/AAAAAAAAAHI/MHDeAdMN-BQ/s200/feather+composition2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Years ago, my friend, Harvey Mackay, told me a wonderful story about a cab driver that proved this point. He was waiting in line for a ride at the airport. When a cab pulled up, the first thing Harvey noticed was that the taxi was polished to a bright shine. Smartly dressed in a white shirt, black tie, and freshly pressed black slacks, the cab driver jumped out and rounded the car to open the back passenger door for Harvey . He handed my friend a laminated card and said: "I'm Wally, your driver. While I'm loading your bags in the trunk I'd like you to read my mission statement." Taken aback, Harvey read the card. It said: Wally's Mission Statement: "To get my customers to their destination in the quickest, safest and cheapest way possible in a friendly environment. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This blew Harvey away, especially when he noticed that the inside of the cab matched the outside. Spotlessly clean! As he slid behind the wheel, Wally said, "Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a thermos of regular and one of decaf." My friend said jokingly, "No, I'd prefer a soft drink." Wally smiled and said, "No problem. I have a cooler up front with regular and Diet Coke, water and orange juice." Almost stuttering, Harvey said, "I'll take a Diet Coke." Handing him his drink, Wally said, "If you'd like something to read, I have The Wall Street Journal, Time, Sports Illustrated and USA Today." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As they were pulling away, Wally handed my friend another laminated card. "These are the stations I get and the music they play, if you'd like to listen to the radio." And as if that weren't enough, Wally told Harvey that he had the air conditioning on and asked if the temperature was comfortable for him. Then he advised Harvey of the best route to his destination for that time of day. He also let him know that he'd be happy to chat and tell him about some of the sights or, if Harvey preferred, to leave him with his own thoughts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Tell me, Wally," my amazed friend asked the driver, "have you always served customers like this?" Wally smiled into the rearview mirror. "No, not always. In fact, it's only been in the last two years. My first five years driving, I spent most of my time complaining like all the rest of the cabbies do. Then I heard the personal growth guru, Wayne Dyer, on the radio one day. He had just written a book called "You'll See It When You Believe It". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Dyer said that if you get up in the morning expecting to have a bad day, you'll rarely disappoint yourself. He said, 'Stop complaining! Differentiate yourself from your competition. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Don't be a duck. Be an eagle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ducks quack and complain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eagles soar above the crowd.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"That hit me right between the eyes," said Wally. "Dyer was really talking about me. I was always quacking and complaining, so I decided to change my attitude and become an eagle. I looked around at the other cabs and their drivers. The cabs were dirty, the drivers were unfriendly, and the customers were unhappy. So I decided to make some changes. I put in a few at a time. When my customers responded well, I did more." "I take it that has paid off for you," Harvey said. "It sure has," Wally replied. "My first year as an eagle, I doubled my income from the previous year. This year I'll probably quadruple it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;You were lucky to get me today. I don't sit at cabstands anymore. My customers call me for appointments on my cell phone or leave a message on my answering machine. If I can't pick them up myself, I get a reliable cabbie friend to do it and I take a piece of the action." Wally was phenomenal. He was running a limo service out of a Yellow Cab. I've probably told that story to more than fifty cab drivers over the years, and only two took the idea and ran with it. Whenever I go to their cities, I give them a call. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The rest of the drivers quacked like ducks and told me all the reasons they couldn't do any of what I was suggesting. Wally the Cab Driver made a different choice... He decided to stop quacking like the ducks and start soaring like the eagles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No one can make you serve customers well. You make the choice. That's because great service is a choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;________________&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Source : &lt;/em&gt;unknown &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-2798201067912376275?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/2798201067912376275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/10/are-you-duck-or-eagle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2798201067912376275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/2798201067912376275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/10/are-you-duck-or-eagle.html' title='Are You A Duck or an Eagle?'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_htSNWjwAuJo/SQas_Igio7I/AAAAAAAAAHI/MHDeAdMN-BQ/s72-c/feather+composition2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-3726114398630401422</id><published>2008-10-27T22:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T23:32:42.843-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regrets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='joke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hinanakit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kalokohan'/><title type='text'>Regrets</title><content type='html'>"Bakit ba pati ako, binibigyan nyo ng malisya? Ano ba ang kasalanan ko?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Talong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi lahat ng malakas, super hero!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Putok&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Paano tayo makakabuo kung hindi ako papatong sa iyo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Lego&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Halika, bigyan mo pa ako ng init. Kailangan kong pumutok para ako'yiyong matikman at ika'y masarapan. Ayan na! Puputok na! Humanda ka!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Popcorn&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kahit papaano, gusto ko din ng exposure!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Singit&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi ko hinahangad na ipagmalaki mo na ako'y sa iyo. Ayoko langnaman na sa harap ng maraming tao, ganun mo na lang ako itanggi!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Utot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi lahat ng hinog ay matamis!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Pigsa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kapag ang katawan mo'y nag-iinit, lagi na lang ako ang hinahanap mo.Maya't maya mo akong ginagamit at pinapagod. Hindi ka na naawa!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Aircon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You never even thank me for making you happy, then you throw me awayjust like that. I hate you for using me, for making my life full ofshit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Tissue&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can cry all you want, you could always blame me. You said, itwasn't fair that you just want life to be better. But remember, it's allyour fault! You stabbed me with a knife!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Sibuyas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isubo mo ang kahabaan ko. Dilaan. Sipsipin. Paglaruan sa bibig mo.Para lumabas ang katas ko na kinasabikan mo. Nag mamahal,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Ice Candy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Panakip butas mo lang pala ako!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Panty&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pinapaikot mo lang ako! Nagsasawa na ako. Mabuti pang patayin mo nalang ako".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Electric fan&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi lahat na walang salawal ay bastos!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- winnie d' pooh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alam mo ba wala akong ibang hinangad kundi ang mapalapit sa iyo.Pero patuloy ang pag-iwas mo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- ipis&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hala! sige magpakasasa ka! Alam ko namang katawan ko lang ang habol mo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-hipon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ayoko na! Pag nagmamahal ako, lagi na lang maraming tao angnagagalit! Wala ba akong karapatang magmahal?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Gasolina&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sawang-sawa na ako, palagi na lang akong pinagpapasa- pasahan, pagodna pagod na ako."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Bola&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ginawa ko naman lahat para sumaya ka, mahirap ka ba talagangmakontento sa isa? Bakit palipat-lipat ka?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- TV&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi lahat ng maasim may vitamin C"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-kili kili&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pilitin mo man na alisin ako sa buhay mo, babalik at babalik ako!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Libag&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Anung kasalanan ko sa iyo, iniwan mo na lang akong duguan..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Sanitary Napkin&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hwag mo na akong bilugin.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-kulangot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bwisit na buhay ito! Araw-araw na lang, itlog! Umaga, tanghali,gabi, itlog! Itlog! Itlog! Lagi na lang itlog!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Brief&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sige, kalimutan mo ako para malaman ng iba ang baho mo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-deodorant&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ako lang ang makakapagpadugo ng ilong ni Manny Pacquiao!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- English&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hindi totoong anak ko si Bakekang! At lalong hindi ko kapatid siMike Enriquez! Kaya pwede ba, tigilan na ang tsismis na yan!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Shrek&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;__________________&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Source:&lt;/em&gt; author unknown [forwarded e-mail]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-3726114398630401422?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/feeds/3726114398630401422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/10/regrets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3726114398630401422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/3726114398630401422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2008/10/regrets.html' title='Regrets'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-867173390913029903.post-5681090082421730375</id><published>2007-07-23T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T03:20:48.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Table of Contents</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/867173390913029903-5681090082421730375?l=istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5681090082421730375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/867173390913029903/posts/default/5681090082421730375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://istoryahan-ni-yodz.blogspot.com/2007/07/table-of-contents.html' title='Table of Contents'/><author><name>yodi insigne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJiB4c4z7qg/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAACZk/0SoX3KS9HK0/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
