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Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs, August, 2002
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sheldene chant
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Aug 27, 2002 06:03 PDT
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POIGNANT PEARLS & POTBELLIED PIGS
Vol. 3 Issue 8 August, 2002
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CONTENTS
- Hello there . . .
- Inside Story
- Happiness is...
- Any Place is a Good Place for a Wedding
- eNonyMouse -
- More About Pookie - Toes for Tea
- Make Money writing eBooks ...while you SLEEP
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo
HELLO THERE . . .
…you with the stars in your eyes, a grasshopper brain and
thoughts without boundaries…
As is the norm in this part of KwaZuluNatal Spring has sprung
with an outburst of frightful weather (from the Cape of Good
Hope, naturally) so it has been difficult for me to concentrate on
anything other than track suits, blankets and hot water bottles.
Times like this make me thankful I don't live in Russia - or England
for that matter - where the perpetual grey weather would definitely
send me into a decline.
Recently I was asked to write an article about happiness and not
surprisingly, in this weird weather, I found that quite hard to do. I
managed to complete it this morning so, first of all I'm trying it out
on you. If you feel like commenting please remember the Discussion
Board on http://www.sheldenechant.com (you know, the one that
nobody ever uses!)
Melvin Durai continues to amuse me and raise points close to my
heart - see Any Place is a Good Place for a Wedding - and now I've
found someone else who makes me smile, namely Bob Pladek.
I thought Make Money Writing eBooks - While You SLEEP was quite
hilarious and had to publish it - even if I am planning to do a couple of
eBooks one day.
The rerun of the Pookie saga is nearing its end - after Toes For Tea
there are only two articles to follow - and then, as always, there
is Griselda's Inside Story. Ignore all her snide remarks about bananas
because believe me...this works.
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo
NEWBIES, NERDS & NITWITS
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INSIDE STORY
by Griselda
OF course I always knew she was stupid....and now people all
around the world know I'm right.
Perhaps you dutifully visited http://www.sheldenechant.com as
instructed, only to be greeted with the ominous error message...
FORBIDDEN...and perhaps you were too polite to say anything about
it?
Well others weren't. It was amazing how many subscribers assumed
she was capable of producing a website, so obscene and disgraceful, that
it was banned instantly. Of course Sheldene almost went mad but
unfortunately some clever person eventually sorted the mess out.
The error occurred because she had inserted two dots, instead of one dot,
into the name of a vital file...but all's well that ends well - I suppose.
I'm sure I've told you before that no-one is quite as boring as Sheldene
once she's got hold of some 'interesting' titbit. Unfortunately, a subscriber
to this ezine sent her an article about bananas (a fruit with easy unzip, no
cook qualities bound to appeal to her anyway), so now we're having
banana lectures - ad nauseam.
Even worse, Innocent and I are expected to have a banana, and only a
banana, whenever we require sustenance. I've had a dull headache for
days which is a good thing, claims Sheldene. 'You're detoxing, Griselda...
which just goes to prove how rotten and toxic you were!'
So if you need an energy boost have a banana which will provide sucrose,
fructose and glucose, plus fibre. In addition it contains high levels of
Vitamin C, A1, B6, B12, potassium and magnesium. Compared with an
apple a banana has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate, three
times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin A and iron. (And, no, I'm not
completely brainwashed ...merely sharing some of the drivel I'm forced to
listen to all the time.)
Let me continue...
Two bananas provide enough energy for a 90-minute workout... so
Sheldene, who is never known to exert herself for more than 10
continuous minutes should survive on two bananas for several days.
As bananas are high in B vitamins eating them calms the nervous system.
They are also supposed to cure depression as they contain trypotophan,
the protein the body converts into serotonin (think Prozac, says my
boss). I'll let you know if there's any marked improvement in her
behaviour patterns but frankly I'm not expecting much.
And that's not all. There's no longer any hope she'll succumb to
anaemia, strokes or high blood pressure because the iron and potassium
she'll get from the blasted bananas will apparently take care of that.
Furthermore potassium could make her more alert - and I don't think I
like that idea..
However I must not despair. Sheldene informs me that a banana
milkshake sweetened with honey is the best cure for a hangover...could it
be she'll take up serious drinking? And even if she doesn't this latest fad
won't last for ever - they never do.
So it's just a case of bracing oneself for her next trick. With my high
banana intake I should be able to handle anything.
(Don't bank on it - Ed.)
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HAPPINESS IS...
HAPPINESS is...a Jo'burg jalopy!
I wrote this newspaper headline many years ago, when I was living
in Ian Smith's Rhodesia. Our precious fuel storage tanks had been
burning for days, the fire services couldn't contain the blaze and the
newsroom was full of red-eyed reporters, almost too exhausted and
desperate to file any copy listing the latest disaster.
Throughout the smoke-choked city despairing residents watched the
ominous glow. Then, when hope had dwindled, a state-of-the-art fire
engine left Johannesburg, in neighbouring South Africa, bound for our
border.
The journey from Johannesburg to Harare (at that time called Salisbury)
takes at least eight hours in a fast car. That fire engine took much longer
but at last it arrived, bearing magical fire-fighting foam. The words. 'It's
here!' caused hardened journalists to wipe away tears...which is why
I got away with the ridiculous front page headline. At such an emotional
moment even the Chief 'Sub' proved to be human - and talking about
happiness, ecstatic described the mood better.
From time to time I think of that headline...and immediately feelings of
euphoria and intense happiness, tempered with relief, flood in. It's an
instant mood boost which fortunately lasts for quite a while.
Of course I've collected other happiness triggers and I'm sure you have
also. In order to be effective one needs to recall the scene so vividly
that one can relive the moment and re-experience all the highlights.
Perhaps you don't believe you can achieve that, but have you tried?
Many of us have developed built-in thought censors which spring into
action when we start to remember upsetting events, but think of things
that inspired you and the wealth of detail surprises.
My husband trained a racehorse called Phil The Fluter and when he was
nearing the end of his career the Turf Club decided to introduce a race
over hurdles as a once-a-year spectacular event. To a flat racing
enthusiast this was a totally alien concept and didn't appeal to me at all -
so imagine my horror when I discovered Phil The Fluter was going to take
part.
As the professional jockeys were almost as ignorant about racing over
the sticks as I was, amateurs had to be engaged to ride in this event -
which meant the race would be run after the main race meeting, not
under Jockey Club auspices, so retired racehorses who had taken up
serious show-jumping could also enter.
Come the great day I was almost hysterical, being convinced that Phil The
Fluter would get hurt. I found a place on the crowded stands far away, I
hoped, from anyone who knew me and, of course, I was NOT going to
watch.
The plucky grey horse had completed half the course before I opened my
eyes and at that stage he was mid-field and clearing the hurdles
competently. I began to think we could both survive this ordeal as long as
I kept praying.
As the field turned for home Phil The Fluter improved his position and
going into the last jump he was lying third. Then he was over safely,
thank God, and flying towards the finish. The crowd roared, while I went
ballistic, and Phil The Fluter won.
Happiness is...
For the gallant grey that was the beginning of a new career. This race
become an annual event, another racing centre introduced hurdling, the
handicapper kept increasing the weight Phil The Fluter carried, and he kept
on winning.
Thanks to his efforts my collection of mood enhancers also grew - which
is just as well because sometimes looking on the bright side becomes
difficult.
Begin gathering together your happy memories for when you need them.
Every day of your life only you can choose whether you are going to be
happy - or unhappy. And sometimes, choosing happiness, requires a little
help.
Copyright 2002 Sheldene Chant
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'ANY PLACE IS A GOOD PLACE FOR A WEDDING'
by Melvin Durai
A SINGAPORE couple wanted to protest shark fin soup, a
Chinese delicacy whose popularity has encouraged
shark-hunting. So what did they do? They scuba-dived into a
large shark-infested aquarium, where they were married by a
Catholic priest, prompting several young sharks to jump out
of the water, screaming, 'Oh no! We've heard about you
priests!'
Actually, the sharks stayed in the water and watched the
unusual ceremony. The couple flashed 'Yes, I do' cards,
exchanged rings, and kissed, before being 'guests of honor'
at a special wedding feast organized by the hungry sharks.
No, seriously, the couple -- Lester Kwok and Julia Khoo --
survived their wedding, perhaps because sharks, in general,
have better taste than humans. Just try dropping some tofu
into a pool of sharks and see how quickly they disperse.
'We wanted to do something different,' Khoo told the
Associated Press. Different? Why do so many couples want to
be different? What happened to the good old days when
couples got married in one place -- and one place only: The
Elvis Chapel in Las Vegas.
These days, couples get married in every place and every way
imaginable. Some get married on ships, some at baseball
games, and some in West Virginia. A few even exchange rings
while sky-diving, apparently because marriage isn't scary
enough.
Bride: 'Oh honey, this is so romantic. We dived out of a
plane, we're falling to earth and we'll soon be newlywed.
Groom: 'Newlywed? If you don't shut up and pull the cord,
we'll soon be newly dead.'
Some couples get married wherever they first met. This often
works out quite well. Patricia Taylor and Kevin Richer of
Texas, for example, tied the knot in a rather romantic
and beautiful location: the garden center at Wal-Mart.
They had met while shopping at the chain store, so they
thought, quite logically, why not get hitched there, too.
'Attention Wal-Mart shoppers: The garden center will be
closed this Saturday for the Taylor-Richer wedding. However,
our pharmacy, bakery, and automotive center will remain open
for all your wedding needs. We are currently running a
special in the auto center: For only $244.99, you can get
four new tires and a new spouse. Discounts are available,
but only on retreads. Sorry, no returns or exchanges.'
Another couple, Randy Kimball and Sharon Stehli, got married
at a 7-Eleven. Kimball previously managed the convenience
store and had hired Stehli as an employee, before deciding
that she deserved to be boss. Their wedding ceremony took
place, of course, at 7:11 a.m. on July 11, and was
celebrated with coffee from a 7-Eleven cup. As for the
wedding night, here's the only detail you need to know: 7
minutes 11 seconds. (That's how long it took to get room
service.)
Some couples seem to have unusual weddings just to gain
attention. While they're exchanging vows, they want their
guests to exchange wows. And the next day, everyone can see
the wedding picture in the newspaper. 'Look Mom! We're
getting married and bungee-jumping at the same time. Aren't
you proud?'
I can't help wondering what my daughter, Lekha, will think
of my wedding.
Lekha: 'Dad, where did you and Mom get married? At a
baseball game? At an airport? At Wal-Mart?'
Me: 'No, sweetheart, we got married in a church.'
Lekha: 'A church? Oh Dad, that's so boring. Whose idea was
that? You could have at least got married at McDonald's.
And celebrated your happiness with a Happy Meal.'
(c) Copyright 2002 Melvin Durai. All Rights Reserved.
http://www.MelvinDurai.com
___________________________
Melvin Durai is an Indiana-based writer, humorist and
occasional stand-up comedian. Born in India and raised
in Zambia, he has lived in the U.S. since 1982. Through
the Internet, his column is read by thousands of people
in more than 90 countries. To subscribe send a blank
email to: Join-Funn-@relay.netatlantic.com
or go to: http://MelvinDurai.com/sub.htm
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eNonyMouse
...trying, once again, to think
positively...
Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
Ever notice that the people who are late are often much jollier
than the people who have to wait for them?
Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened.
We could learn a lot from crayons: some are sharp, some are pretty,
some are dull, some have weird names, and all are different colors....
but they all exist very nicely in the same box.
A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on
a detour.
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*More about Pookie
TOES FOR TEA?
OUR move to the new farm at Glen Forest coincided with an upsurge in
Rhodesia's guerilla war. Although we were now living closer to town we
soon discovered we had unwittingly moved to a much 'hotter' area but,
even so, life went on.
Then events took a particularly nasty and unexpected turn. People on a
nearby farm were killed in an ambush when returning home early one
evening. Consumed with mad panic I packed up the children and went to
stay with my mother, only to return the following day alone. We spent
almost a week filling sacks with sand and stacking them against the
outside door and windows, effectively turning the children's bedroom into
a bunker. When that task was completed we allowed the rest of the
family to come back.
The four older children, plus Pookie the monkey, slept on mattresses on
the floor, just in case a stray bullet found its way through a wall. Not a
chink of light came through the sandbagged windows, nor did very much
air. Despite the occupants' extreme discomfort this 'temporary' security
measure was to remain in force in this bedroom for about two years.
I was aware these ridiculous precautions would be ineffectual against a
rocket or mortar attack but having the sacks in place made me feel
better.
And in the meantime Keith and I, with the new baby Merlyn, slept on
beds, without sandbags in an adjoining room.
At this time we were also issued with guns which were abandoned
after we had toted them around for one morning. There are, after
all, degrees of danger. While the sun shone and the children played
and went to school one felt almost carefree but, after dark, stark
reality took its toll.
However this is a tale about a monkey, not terror attacks. Pookie
was now fully grown and more powerful than the average vervet,
having been so well fed. He spent his time loping about the farm or
swinging through the tree tops, usually in pursuit of human company.
When Adrian was at school he was bored and lonely, and liked to see
what people were doing. When Pookie casually dropped in on some farm
workers and decided to watch for a while, production soared. For the first
time, Keith felt his son's annoying pet might have some uses.
On the other hand I was gradually being forced to admit that the vet who
originally told us 'you will never tame that monkey', might have known
something.
Although having a pet monkey or baboon was not completely unheard of,
those I knew of were usually tethered to an overhead cable. This allowed
the animal to scamper about but after one look I had decided this was
definitely not for Pookie.
With the exception of Keith and Adrian, we were all now a little afraid
of him. Pookie was getting a little above himself and had learned that if
he stood his ground, we would more than likely scatter.
By now Anatoria had taken charge of Merlyn and managed to change
nappies, do the washing, amuse the baby and ward off Pookie -
most of the time.
Merlyn adored Anatoria, who tied him on her back as she went on
with her work - which he preferred to being parked in a cot. I was
a sub-editor, working at night on the national daily (the perfect job for
someone living in a curfew area), so I thanked my lucky stars, constantly,
for Anatoria.
One day I tried to pacify the squalling brat by tying him on my back, but
didn't tuck in the ends of the shawl properly, so Merlyn slid off. We used to
dread being absolutely forced to let Anatoria have a whole day off but
fortunately this didn't happen often. The last thing she wanted to do
was leave the precious baby alone with any of us.
So we continued to rub along together, with a few hysterical spats when
Pookie became unreasonably cross. The fact that we were still housed
in a collection of unconnected rondavels made it easy for a monkey
to lie in wait and trap the unwary. We certainly lived in very exciting
times.
One sultry afternoon Anatoria was ironing in a small room off the large
'lounge' rondavel where Miranda, Llewelyn and Avalon were playing. I
was in some other hut, reading no doubt, when the peace was shattered.
Pookie had chosen to 'play' with the three children who, yelling and
roaring, promptly banged the top half of the stable door shut, then closed
all the windows, leaving Anatoria and Merlyn to face Pookie's wrath.
Attracted by the screaming I found Anatoria kicking the door while begging
the children, who were watching through a window, to let her in.
As usual Merlyn was tied comfortably on Anatoria's back, with his two
sets of exposed toes resting at each side of her waist.
Pookie, now completely enraged and frustrated, was clinging onto
Anatoria's chest - while biting the hell out of Merlyn's feet.
Luckily I was able to restore some semblance of order and, as things
quietened, even began to giggle a bit.
But not for long because Anatoria was simply furious. 'Madam', she
shouted, 'This is not right. It is not right for that monkey to bite Merlyn -
and the children locked us out!'
Of course it was not right but fortunately the toes were not completely
mangled - just chewed a little and no real harm done.
However, although I couldn't imagine what, I knew that sooner or later
I would have to take some sort of decisive action.
© Copyright 2000 Sheldene Chant
*The four previous articles about Pookie can
be found in the April, May, June and July issues at
http://www.topica.com/lists/pearlypigs/read
Ööº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo
MAKE MONEY WRITING EBOOKS....while you SLEEP
says Bob Pladek
GOSH we are all so busy, busy, busy, aren't we? Bothering people we once
called 'friends' to bother people THEY once called 'friends' so that we can
squeeze our 3% out of every relationship 5 degrees from Bacon; filling out
matrixes (really cool pyramids but done in a way not to LOOK like
pyramids); autoresponding; free-hitting; massively increasing site traffic;
and writing, writing, writing those eBooks. Having ourselves a swell old
time getting 'published.'
What if I told you you could increase your productivity 50% WITHOUT
INCREASING YOUR WORKLOAD even 1%??? This means that instead of
writing two 'must-have' eBooks each day, you would write three. In the
course of one year, that means you could produce over 1,200 MUST-
HAVE eBooks!!. Let's say you give a third of them away for free. That still
leaves you a profit of over $15,000 if you sell ONLY ONE COPY OF EACH
OF THE OTHERS at the RIDICULOUSLY LOW PRICE of $19.95!!! If you sell
just ONE of each ONCE a day..well...that'd be a lot more, I bet.
FANTASTIC! you fantasize. REMARKABLE! you remark. UNBELIEVABLE!
yet, you believe.
It's true: revealed here for the first time, and probably the only time
knowing MY editors, THE MOST AMAZING SYSTEM EVER FOR SQUEEZING
MORE NEAR-PROFIT OUT OF THE DAY!!!
A little background/tease: While researching the works of Robert Crumb, I
came across a barely- known treatise on the time-space continuum by
some wild-haired silver-mustachioed dude who spent his final years on
earth wandering the commons area at Princeton University, speaking in a
foreign accent and suffering his flatulence not in silence. This gentleman,
whose name I forget, had some whack-o ideas about physics, and energy,
and the universe and junk..All pretty useless stuff, except that it made me
nod off, during which time I made my fantastic discovery:
I call it.....'sleep.'
Incredible as it sounds, for 6 to 8 hours each day our bodies go through a
cycle during which most animated activity is minimized. (More, if you work
at Prudential and are involved with 'Quality Committees.') This is ideal
THINKING time, because except for breathing, some scratching, and
mumbling a few names better left mumbled, your brain is pretty
unoccupied. A GREAT time for knockin' out another eBook.
'But Bob', you say, addressing me by my first name, though we haven't
been properly introduced and with luck won't be, 'anything I wrote while I
was asleep wouldn't be worth the bytes it's SAVED with. And probably not
very..original.'
Yes..true...but no LESS than the two you're banging out during the WAKE
cycle. You see, eBooks aren't about quality..they're about quantity. In the
old days, there used to be these people called EDITORS. And they were in
charge of BUDGETS. And some eco-types were wrapping themselves
around TREES. So to get published, you had to already be somebody,
know somebody, impress somebody, or buy your own tree.
Today's treeless eBook environment has opened the monitor to
HUNDREDS of wonderful authors who wouldn't have made it past those
old fart Editors (very good thing)...and THOUSANDS of people, like you and
me, who have no business writing a book in the first place. Much less a
second place. Much less three a day.
Because I preceded the online revolution----indeed, preceded the 16 bit
machine---the word 'book' still conjures up a certain 'quality'. I've been
wrong MANY times in my conjurement of how good it was, but at least I
knew there were some old fart Editors who'd been equally conned. There
was some comfort in that.
Books had other funny qualties back then: they weren't all priced at
$19.95. It VARIED. They weren't given out for FREE to advertise
something, or make you buy into a marketing scheme-atic. They weren't
bundled with trial software, or other eBooks; they weren't offered on a
money-back-if-you're-not satisfied basis.
Hell, if that had been the case, my library today would contain NO James
Joyce. Or Pynchon. Or Milton.[Come to think of it, there'd be precious little
in it except Herriman, Waterson, and Lee.]
I await the day---or maybe I just haven't found the existing site, yet---
where you can go to the eBook 'library', 'walk' the aisle, 'peruse' the
shelves, 'drag down' a copy and 'flick thru' a few pages before deciding to
download. If this sounds like nirvana to you, you need to hug a tree
yourself.
THE END
Wait. Oh yeah, the 'sleep' thing. Print yourself out a copy of any old eBook
on internet marketing. Find a comfortable spot. You WILL fall asleep. While
asleep, your body will begin a purge process, during which most of what
you read will be regurgitated in nonsensical, non sequitur syllables. Keep a
tape recorder by your bed. Or, if you're married, couch. Listen to the tape
the following morning, and transcribe.
The psychE babble, combined with three dozen undigested Twizzlers, and
the pound of cat hair you inhaled while resting, should have given you
plenty of material. The title is up to you. Spend your time THERE. After all,
it's certain to be all anyone will ever read. Certainly about all that's
original.
And certainly as good as everybody else's......
(c) Copyright 2002 RW Pladek http://mydeas.com
___________________________
Bob Pladek has been in big business, little business,
and a couple inbetween. A lawyer with acquisition, marketing,
PR and basic life experience, he is a published humorist,
cartoonist and folk singer. He lives with his wife of 25 years,
two smart daughters, and far too many animals.
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Copyright 2002 Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs
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<b>POIGNANT PEARLS &
POTBELLIED PIGS<br><br>
</b>
<b> Vol. 3 Issue 8 August, 2002<br>
</b>:<br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
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<b> CONTENTS<br><br>
</b> - Hello there
. . .<br><br>
- Inside
Story<br><br>
- Happiness
is...<br><br>
- Any Place is a
Good Place for a Wedding<br><br>
- eNonyMouse
-<br><br>
- More About
Pookie - Toes for Tea<br><br>
- Make Money
writing eBooks ...while you SLEEP<br><br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
<b> HELLO THERE . . .<br><br>
</b>…you with the stars in your eyes, a grasshopper brain and<br>
thoughts without boundaries…<br><br>
As is the norm in this part of KwaZuluNatal Spring has sprung<br>
with an outburst of frightful weather (from the Cape of Good<br>
Hope, naturally) so it has been difficult for me to concentrate on<br>
anything other than track suits, blankets and hot water bottles.<br>
Times like this make me thankful I don't live in Russia - or
England<br>
for that matter - where the perpetual grey weather would definitely<br>
send me into a decline.<br><br>
Recently I was asked to write an article about happiness and
not<br>
surprisingly, in this weird weather, I found that quite hard to
do. I<br>
managed to complete it this morning so, first of all I'm trying it
out<br>
on you. If you feel like commenting please remember the
Discussion<br>
Board on
<a href="http://www.sheldenechant.com/" eudora="autourl">http://www.sheldenechant.com</a>
(you know, the one that<br>
nobody ever uses!)<br><br>
Melvin Durai continues to amuse me and raise points close to my<br>
heart - see Any Place is a Good Place for a Wedding - and now I've<br>
found someone else who makes me smile, namely Bob Pladek.<br>
I thought Make Money Writing eBooks - While You SLEEP was quite<br>
hilarious and had to publish it - even if I am planning to do a couple of<br>
eBooks one day.<br><br>
The rerun of the Pookie saga is nearing its end - after Toes For Tea<br>
there are only two articles to follow - and then, as always, there<br>
is Griselda's Inside Story. Ignore all her snide remarks about bananas<br>
because believe me...this works.<br><br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
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<b> INSIDE STORY<br><br>
by Griselda<br><br>
</b>OF course I always knew she was stupid....and now people all<br>
around the world know I'm right.<br><br>
Perhaps you dutifully visited <a href="http://www.sheldenechant.com/" eudora="autourl">http://www.sheldenechant.com</a> as<br>
instructed, only to be greeted with the ominous error message...<br>
FORBIDDEN...and perhaps you were too polite to say anything about<br>
it?<br><br>
Well others weren't. It was amazing how many subscribers assumed<br>
she was capable of producing a website, so obscene and disgraceful, that<br>
it was banned instantly. Of course Sheldene almost went mad but<br>
unfortunately some clever person eventually sorted the mess out.<br><br>
The error occurred because she had inserted two dots, instead of one dot,<br>
into the name of a vital file...but all's well that ends well - I suppose.<br><br>
I'm sure I've told you before that no-one is quite as boring as Sheldene<br>
once she's got hold of some 'interesting' titbit. Unfortunately, a subscriber<br>
to this ezine sent her an article about bananas (a fruit with easy unzip, no<br>
cook qualities bound to appeal to her anyway), so now we're having<br>
banana lectures - ad nauseam.<br><br>
Even worse, Innocent and I are expected to have a banana, and only a<br>
banana, whenever we require sustenance. I've had a dull headache for<br>
days which is a good thing, claims Sheldene. 'You're detoxing, Griselda...<br>
which just goes to prove how rotten and toxic you were!'<br><br>
So if you need an energy boost have a banana which will provide sucrose,<br>
fructose and glucose, plus fibre. In addition it contains high levels of<br>
Vitamin C, A1, B6, B12, potassium and magnesium. Compared with an<br>
apple a banana has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate, three<br>
times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin A and iron. (And, no, I'm not<br>
completely brainwashed ...merely sharing some of the drivel I'm forced to<br>
listen to all the time.)<br><br>
Let me continue...<br><br>
Two bananas provide enough energy for a 90-minute workout... so<br>
Sheldene, who is never known to exert herself for more than 10<br>
continuous minutes should survive on two bananas for several days.<br><br>
As bananas are high in B vitamins eating them calms the nervous system.<br>
They are also supposed to cure depression as they contain trypotophan,<br>
the protein the body converts into serotonin (think Prozac, says my<br>
boss). I'll let you know if there's any marked improvement in her<br>
behaviour patterns but frankly I'm not expecting much.<br><br>
And that's not all. There's no longer any hope she'll succumb to<br>
anaemia, strokes or high blood pressure because the iron and potassium<br>
she'll get from the blasted bananas will apparently take care of that.<br>
Furthermore potassium could make her more alert - and I don't think I<br>
like that idea..<br><br>
However I must not despair. Sheldene informs me that a banana<br>
milkshake sweetened with honey is the best cure for a hangover...could it<br>
be she'll take up serious drinking? And even if she doesn't this latest fad<br>
won't last for ever - they never do.<br><br>
So it's just a case of bracing oneself for her next trick. With my high<br>
banana intake I should be able to handle anything.<br><br>
<i>(Don't bank on it - Ed.)<br><br>
</i>öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
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<b> HAPPINESS IS...<br><br>
</b>HAPPINESS is...a Jo'burg jalopy!<br><br>
I wrote this newspaper headline many years ago, when I was living<br>
in Ian Smith's Rhodesia. Our precious fuel storage tanks had been<br>
burning for days, the fire services couldn't contain the blaze and the<br>
newsroom was full of red-eyed reporters, almost too exhausted and<br>
desperate to file any copy listing the latest disaster.<br><br>
Throughout the smoke-choked city despairing residents watched the<br>
ominous glow. Then, when hope had dwindled, a state-of-the-art fire<br>
engine left Johannesburg, in neighbouring South Africa, bound for our<br>
border.<br><br>
The journey from Johannesburg to Harare (at that time called Salisbury)<br>
takes at least eight hours in a fast car. That fire engine took much longer<br>
but at last it arrived, bearing magical fire-fighting foam. The words. 'It's<br>
here!' caused hardened journalists to wipe away tears...which is why<br>
I got away with the ridiculous front page headline. At such an emotional<br>
moment even the Chief 'Sub' proved to be human - and talking about<br>
happiness, ecstatic described the mood better.<br><br>
From time to time I think of that headline...and immediately feelings of<br>
euphoria and intense happiness, tempered with relief, flood in. It's an<br>
instant mood boost which fortunately lasts for quite a while.<br><br>
Of course I've collected other happiness triggers and I'm sure you have<br>
also. In order to be effective one needs to recall the scene so vividly<br>
that one can relive the moment and re-experience all the highlights.<br>
Perhaps you don't believe you can achieve that, but have you tried?<br><br>
Many of us have developed built-in thought censors which spring into<br>
action when we start to remember upsetting events, but think of things<br>
that inspired you and the wealth of detail surprises.<br><br>
My husband trained a racehorse called Phil The Fluter and when he was<br>
nearing the end of his career the Turf Club decided to introduce a race<br>
over hurdles as a once-a-year spectacular event. To a flat racing<br>
enthusiast this was a totally alien concept and didn't appeal to me at all -<br>
so imagine my horror when I discovered Phil The Fluter was going to take<br>
part.<br><br>
As the professional jockeys were almost as ignorant about racing over<br>
the sticks as I was, amateurs had to be engaged to ride in this event -<br>
which meant the race would be run after the main race meeting, not<br>
under Jockey Club auspices, so retired racehorses who had taken up<br>
serious show-jumping could also enter.<br><br>
Come the great day I was almost hysterical, being convinced that Phil The<br>
Fluter would get hurt. I found a place on the crowded stands far away, I<br>
hoped, from anyone who knew me and, of course, I was NOT going to<br>
watch.<br><br>
The plucky grey horse had completed half the course before I opened my<br>
eyes and at that stage he was mid-field and clearing the hurdles<br>
competently. I began to think we could both survive this ordeal as long as<br>
I kept praying.<br><br>
As the field turned for home Phil The Fluter improved his position and<br>
going into the last jump he was lying third. Then he was over safely,<br>
thank God, and flying towards the finish. The crowd roared, while I went<br>
ballistic, and Phil The Fluter won.<br><br>
Happiness is...<br><br>
For the gallant grey that was the beginning of a new career. This race<br>
become an annual event, another racing centre introduced hurdling, the<br>
handicapper kept increasing the weight Phil The Fluter carried, and he kept<br>
on winning.<br><br>
Thanks to his efforts my collection of mood enhancers also grew - which<br>
is just as well because sometimes looking on the bright side becomes<br>
difficult.<br><br>
Begin gathering together your happy memories for when you need them.<br>
Every day of your life only you can choose whether you are going to be<br>
happy - or unhappy. And sometimes, choosing happiness, requires a little<br>
help.<br><br>
<b>Copyright 2002 Sheldene Chant<br><br>
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<b> 'ANY PLACE IS A GOOD PLACE FOR A WEDDING'<br><br>
by Melvin Durai<br><br>
</b>A SINGAPORE couple wanted to protest shark fin soup, a<br>
Chinese delicacy whose popularity has encouraged<br>
shark-hunting. So what did they do? They scuba-dived into a<br>
large shark-infested aquarium, where they were married by a<br>
Catholic priest, prompting several young sharks to jump out<br>
of the water, screaming, 'Oh no! We've heard about you<br>
priests!'<br><br>
Actually, the sharks stayed in the water and watched the<br>
unusual ceremony. The couple flashed 'Yes, I do' cards,<br>
exchanged rings, and kissed, before being 'guests of honor'<br>
at a special wedding feast organized by the hungry sharks.<br><br>
No, seriously, the couple -- Lester Kwok and Julia Khoo --<br>
survived their wedding, perhaps because sharks, in general,<br>
have better taste than humans. Just try dropping some tofu<br>
into a pool of sharks and see how quickly they disperse.<br><br>
'We wanted to do something different,' Khoo told the<br>
Associated Press. Different? Why do so many couples want to<br>
be different? What happened to the good old days when<br>
couples got married in one place -- and one place only: The<br>
Elvis Chapel in Las Vegas.<br><br>
These days, couples get married in every place and every way<br>
imaginable. Some get married on ships, some at baseball<br>
games, and some in West Virginia. A few even exchange rings<br>
while sky-diving, apparently because marriage isn't scary<br>
enough.<br><br>
Bride: 'Oh honey, this is so romantic. We dived out of a<br>
plane, we're falling to earth and we'll soon be newlywed.<br><br>
Groom: 'Newlywed? If you don't shut up and pull the cord,<br>
we'll soon be newly dead.'<br><br>
Some couples get married wherever they first met. This often<br>
works out quite well. Patricia Taylor and Kevin Richer of<br>
Texas, for example, tied the knot in a rather romantic<br>
and beautiful location: the garden center at Wal-Mart.<br><br>
They had met while shopping at the chain store, so they<br>
thought, quite logically, why not get hitched there, too.<br>
'Attention Wal-Mart shoppers: The garden center will be<br>
closed this Saturday for the Taylor-Richer wedding. However,<br>
our pharmacy, bakery, and automotive center will remain open<br>
for all your wedding needs. We are currently running a<br>
special in the auto center: For only $244.99, you can get<br>
four new tires and a new spouse. Discounts are available,<br>
but only on retreads. Sorry, no returns or exchanges.'<br><br>
Another couple, Randy Kimball and Sharon Stehli, got married<br>
at a 7-Eleven. Kimball previously managed the convenience<br>
store and had hired Stehli as an employee, before deciding<br>
that she deserved to be boss. Their wedding ceremony took<br>
place, of course, at 7:11 a.m. on July 11, and was<br>
celebrated with coffee from a 7-Eleven cup. As for the<br>
wedding night, here's the only detail you need to know: 7<br>
minutes 11 seconds. (That's how long it took to get room<br>
service.)<br><br>
Some couples seem to have unusual weddings just to gain<br>
attention. While they're exchanging vows, they want their<br>
guests to exchange wows. And the next day, everyone can see<br>
the wedding picture in the newspaper. 'Look Mom! We're<br>
getting married and bungee-jumping at the same time. Aren't<br>
you proud?'<br><br>
I can't help wondering what my daughter, Lekha, will think<br>
of my wedding.<br><br>
Lekha: 'Dad, where did you and Mom get married? At a<br>
baseball game? At an airport? At Wal-Mart?'<br><br>
Me: 'No, sweetheart, we got married in a church.'<br><br>
Lekha: 'A church? Oh Dad, that's so boring. Whose idea was<br>
that? You could have at least got married at McDonald's.<br>
And celebrated your happiness with a Happy Meal.'<br><br>
(c) Copyright 2002 Melvin Durai. All Rights Reserved.<br>
<a href="http://www.melvindurai.com/" eudora="autourl">http://www.MelvinDurai.com</a><br>
___________________________<br>
<i>Melvin Durai is an Indiana-based writer, humorist and<br>
occasional stand-up comedian. Born in India and raised<br>
in Zambia, he has lived in the U.S. since 1982. Through<br>
the Internet, his column is read by thousands of people<br>
in more than 90 countries. To subscribe send a blank<br>
email to: Join-Funn-@relay.netatlantic.com<br>
or go to: <a href="http://melvindurai.com/sub.htm" eudora="autourl">http://MelvinDurai.com/sub.htm</a><br><br>
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<b>eNonyMouse<br><br>
</b> <i> ...trying, once again, to think<br>
positively...<br><br>
</i>Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.<br><br>
Ever notice that the people who are late are often much jollier<br>
than the people who have to wait for them?<br><br>
Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened.<br><br>
We could learn a lot from crayons: some are sharp, some are pretty,<br>
some are dull, some have weird names, and all are different colors....<br>
but they all exist very nicely in the same box.<br><br>
A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on<br>
a detour.<br><br>
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<i>*More about Pookie<br><br>
</i> <x-tab> </x-tab> <b>TOES FOR TEA?<br><br>
</b>OUR move to the new farm at Glen Forest coincided with an upsurge in<br>
Rhodesia's guerilla war. Although we were now living closer to town we<br>
soon discovered we had unwittingly moved to a much 'hotter' area but,<br>
even so, life went on.<br><br>
Then events took a particularly nasty and unexpected turn. People on a<br>
nearby farm were killed in an ambush when returning home early one<br>
evening. Consumed with mad panic I packed up the children and went to<br>
stay with my mother, only to return the following day alone. We spent<br>
almost a week filling sacks with sand and stacking them against the<br>
outside door and windows, effectively turning the children's bedroom into<br>
a bunker. When that task was completed we allowed the rest of the<br>
family to come back.<br><br>
The four older children, plus Pookie the monkey, slept on mattresses on<br>
the floor, just in case a stray bullet found its way through a wall. Not a<br>
chink of light came through the sandbagged windows, nor did very much<br>
air. Despite the occupants' extreme discomfort this 'temporary' security<br>
measure was to remain in force in this bedroom for about two years.<br>
I was aware these ridiculous precautions would be ineffectual against a<br>
rocket or mortar attack but having the sacks in place made me feel<br>
better.<br><br>
And in the meantime Keith and I, with the new baby Merlyn, slept on<br>
beds, without sandbags in an adjoining room.<br><br>
At this time we were also issued with guns which were abandoned<br>
after we had toted them around for one morning. There are, after<br>
all, degrees of danger. While the sun shone and the children played<br>
and went to school one felt almost carefree but, after dark, stark<br>
reality took its toll.<br><br>
However this is a tale about a monkey, not terror attacks. Pookie<br>
was now fully grown and more powerful than the average vervet,<br>
having been so well fed. He spent his time loping about the farm or<br>
swinging through the tree tops, usually in pursuit of human company.<br><br>
When Adrian was at school he was bored and lonely, and liked to see<br>
what people were doing. When Pookie casually dropped in on some farm<br>
workers and decided to watch for a while, production soared. For the first<br>
time, Keith felt his son's annoying pet might have some uses.<br><br>
On the other hand I was gradually being forced to admit that the vet who<br>
originally told us 'you will never tame that monkey', might have known<br>
something.<br><br>
Although having a pet monkey or baboon was not completely unheard of,<br>
those I knew of were usually tethered to an overhead cable. This allowed<br>
the animal to scamper about but after one look I had decided this was<br>
definitely not for Pookie.<br><br>
With the exception of Keith and Adrian, we were all now a little afraid<br>
of him. Pookie was getting a little above himself and had learned that if<br>
he stood his ground, we would more than likely scatter.<br><br>
By now Anatoria had taken charge of Merlyn and managed to change<br>
nappies, do the washing, amuse the baby and ward off Pookie -<br>
most of the time.<br><br>
Merlyn adored Anatoria, who tied him on her back as she went on<br>
with her work - which he preferred to being parked in a cot. I was<br>
a sub-editor, working at night on the national daily (the perfect job for<br>
someone living in a curfew area), so I thanked my lucky stars, constantly,<br>
for Anatoria.<br><br>
One day I tried to pacify the squalling brat by tying him on my back, but<br>
didn't tuck in the ends of the shawl properly, so Merlyn slid off. We used to<br>
dread being absolutely forced to let Anatoria have a whole day off but<br>
fortunately this didn't happen often. The last thing she wanted to do<br>
was leave the precious baby alone with any of us.<br><br>
So we continued to rub along together, with a few hysterical spats when<br>
Pookie became unreasonably cross. The fact that we were still housed<br>
in a collection of unconnected rondavels made it easy for a monkey<br>
to lie in wait and trap the unwary. We certainly lived in very exciting<br>
times.<br><br>
One sultry afternoon Anatoria was ironing in a small room off the large<br>
'lounge' rondavel where Miranda, Llewelyn and Avalon were playing. I<br>
was in some other hut, reading no doubt, when the peace was shattered.<br><br>
Pookie had chosen to 'play' with the three children who, yelling and<br>
roaring, promptly banged the top half of the stable door shut, then closed<br>
all the windows, leaving Anatoria and Merlyn to face Pookie's wrath.<br><br>
Attracted by the screaming I found Anatoria kicking the door while begging<br>
the children, who were watching through a window, to let her in.<br><br>
As usual Merlyn was tied comfortably on Anatoria's back, with his two<br>
sets of exposed toes resting at each side of her waist.<br><br>
Pookie, now completely enraged and frustrated, was clinging onto<br>
Anatoria's chest - while biting the hell out of Merlyn's feet.<br><br>
Luckily I was able to restore some semblance of order and, as things<br>
quietened, even began to giggle a bit.<br><br>
But not for long because Anatoria was simply furious. 'Madam', she<br>
shouted, 'This is not right. It is not right for that monkey to bite Merlyn -<br>
and the children locked us out!'<br><br>
Of course it was not right but fortunately the toes were not completely<br>
mangled - just chewed a little and no real harm done.<br><br>
However, although I couldn't imagine what, I knew that sooner or later<br>
I would have to take some sort of decisive action.<br><br>
<b>© Copyright 2000 Sheldene Chant<br><br>
</b> <i>*The four previous articles about Pookie can<br>
be found in the April, May, June and July issues at<br>
<a href="http://www.topica.com/lists/pearlypigs/read" eudora="autourl">http://www.topica.com/lists/pearlypigs/read</a><br><br>
</i>Ööº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
<b> MAKE MONEY WRITING EBOOKS....while you SLEEP<br><br>
says Bob Pladek<br><br>
</b>GOSH we are all so busy, busy, busy, aren't we? Bothering people we once<br>
called 'friends' to bother people THEY once called 'friends' so that we can<br>
squeeze our 3% out of every relationship 5 degrees from Bacon; filling out<br>
matrixes (really cool pyramids but done in a way not to LOOK like<br>
pyramids); autoresponding; free-hitting; massively increasing site traffic;<br>
and writing, writing, writing those eBooks. Having ourselves a swell old<br>
time getting 'published.'<br><br>
What if I told you you could increase your productivity 50% WITHOUT<br>
INCREASING YOUR WORKLOAD even 1%??? This means that instead of<br>
writing two 'must-have' eBooks each day, you would write three. In the<br>
course of one year, that means you could produce over 1,200 MUST-<br>
HAVE eBooks!!. Let's say you give a third of them away for free. That still<br>
leaves you a profit of over $15,000 if you sell ONLY ONE COPY OF EACH<br>
OF THE OTHERS at the RIDICULOUSLY LOW PRICE of $19.95!!! If you sell<br>
just ONE of each ONCE a day..well...that'd be a lot more, I bet.<br><br>
FANTASTIC! you fantasize. REMARKABLE! you remark. UNBELIEVABLE!<br>
yet, you believe.<br><br>
It's true: revealed here for the first time, and probably the only time<br>
knowing MY editors, THE MOST AMAZING SYSTEM EVER FOR SQUEEZING<br>
MORE NEAR-PROFIT OUT OF THE DAY!!!<br><br>
A little background/tease: While researching the works of Robert Crumb, I<br>
came across a barely- known treatise on the time-space continuum by<br>
some wild-haired silver-mustachioed dude who spent his final years on<br>
earth wandering the commons area at Princeton University, speaking in a<br>
foreign accent and suffering his flatulence not in silence. This gentleman,<br>
whose name I forget, had some whack-o ideas about physics, and energy,<br>
and the universe and junk..All pretty useless stuff, except that it made me<br>
nod off, during which time I made my fantastic discovery:<br><br>
I call it.....'sleep.'<br><br>
Incredible as it sounds, for 6 to 8 hours each day our bodies go through a<br>
cycle during which most animated activity is minimized. (More, if you work<br>
at Prudential and are involved with 'Quality Committees.') This is ideal<br>
THINKING time, because except for breathing, some scratching, and<br>
mumbling a few names better left mumbled, your brain is pretty<br>
unoccupied. A GREAT time for knockin' out another eBook.<br><br>
'But Bob', you say, addressing me by my first name, though we haven't<br>
been properly introduced and with luck won't be, 'anything I wrote while I<br>
was asleep wouldn't be worth the bytes it's SAVED with. And probably not<br>
very..original.'<br><br>
Yes..true...but no LESS than the two you're banging out during the WAKE<br>
cycle. You see, eBooks aren't about quality..they're about quantity. In the<br>
old days, there used to be these people called EDITORS. And they were in<br>
charge of BUDGETS. And some eco-types were wrapping themselves<br>
around TREES. So to get published, you had to already be somebody,<br>
know somebody, impress somebody, or buy your own tree.<br><br>
Today's treeless eBook environment has opened the monitor to<br>
HUNDREDS of wonderful authors who wouldn't have made it past those<br>
old fart Editors (very good thing)...and THOUSANDS of people, like you and<br>
me, who have no business writing a book in the first place. Much less a<br>
second place. Much less three a day.<br><br>
Because I preceded the online revolution----indeed, preceded the 16 bit<br>
machine---the word 'book' still conjures up a certain 'quality'. I've been<br>
wrong MANY times in my conjurement of how good it was, but at least I<br>
knew there were some old fart Editors who'd been equally conned. There<br>
was some comfort in that.<br><br>
Books had other funny qualties back then: they weren't all priced at<br>
$19.95. It VARIED. They weren't given out for FREE to advertise<br>
something, or make you buy into a marketing scheme-atic. They weren't<br>
bundled with trial software, or other eBooks; they weren't offered on a<br>
money-back-if-you're-not satisfied basis.<br><br>
Hell, if that had been the case, my library today would contain NO James<br>
Joyce. Or Pynchon. Or Milton.[Come to think of it, there'd be precious little<br>
in it except Herriman, Waterson, and Lee.]<br><br>
I await the day---or maybe I just haven't found the existing site, yet---<br>
where you can go to the eBook 'library', 'walk' the aisle, 'peruse' the<br>
shelves, 'drag down' a copy and 'flick thru' a few pages before deciding to<br>
download. If this sounds like nirvana to you, you need to hug a tree<br>
yourself.<br><br>
THE END<br><br>
Wait. Oh yeah, the 'sleep' thing. Print yourself out a copy of any old eBook<br>
on internet marketing. Find a comfortable spot. You WILL fall asleep. While<br>
asleep, your body will begin a purge process, during which most of what<br>
you read will be regurgitated in nonsensical, non sequitur syllables. Keep a<br>
tape recorder by your bed. Or, if you're married, couch. Listen to the tape<br>
the following morning, and transcribe.<br><br>
The psychE babble, combined with three dozen undigested Twizzlers, and<br>
the pound of cat hair you inhaled while resting, should have given you<br>
plenty of material. The title is up to you. Spend your time THERE. After all,<br>
it's certain to be all anyone will ever read. Certainly about all that's original.<br>
And certainly as good as everybody else's......<br><br>
<b>(c) Copyright 2002 RW Pladek <a href="http://mydeas.com/" eudora="autourl">http://mydeas.com</a><br>
</b>___________________________<br>
<i>Bob Pladek has been in big business, little business,<br>
and a couple inbetween. A lawyer with acquisition, marketing,<br>
PR and basic life experience, he is a published humorist,<br>
cartoonist and folk singer. He lives with his wife of 25 years,<br>
two smart daughters, and far too many animals.<br><br>
</i>Ööº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
We are pleased to be members of the Ezine Publishers<br>
Association! Join at <a href="http://www.ezinepublisher.org/" eudora="autourl">http://www.ezinepublisher.org/</a><br><br>
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FREE EZINES<br>
Find hundreds of quality, FREE Ezines at the Cumuli<br>
Ezine Finder: <a href="http://www.cumuli.com/ezines/" eudora="autourl">http://www.cumuli.com/ezines/</a><br><br>
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<b>Copyright 2002 Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs<br><br>
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<b>LIST MECHANICS<br><br>
</b>TO JOIN: Please send a BLANK email to<br>
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CONTACT INFO: Sheldene Chant (Publisher), 6 Strapp<br>
Lane, Amanzimtoti 4126, KwaZuluNatal, South Africa.<br>
Fax:27-31-9031635. email:morg-@icon.co.za .<br>
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