A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church by hand.
He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript.
So, the new monk goes to the head abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error would be continued in
all of the subsequent copies.
The head monk, says, 'We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son.'
He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years. Hours go by and nobody sees the old abbot.
So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing. We missed the R!
We missed the R ! We missed the R !' His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably. The young monk asks the old abbot, 'What's wrong, father?'
With a choking voice, the old abbot replies, 'The word was...
there is definately some deep and dark humour here on this site. i guess thats why i feel at home?
My daughter Sylvia posted that on her facebook, she's 21. I only hope this isn't from first hand experience. I used to have a full head of hair and then Sylvia came along. Here's some pic's of the brat and her pets.
My daughter Sylvia posted that on her facebook, she's 21. I only hope this isn't from first hand experience. I used to have a full head of hair and then Sylvia came along. Here's some pic's of the brat and her pets.
I was going to ask which one was crazyj ? and remark how Beautifull she was w/o the chrome but I decided to say nothing... more polite that way.
This young guy joins a monastory and goes to meet the head abbot. He's told the rules about a vow of celibacy, poverty etc. and the last rule that this particular monastory only allows the monks to speak two words at the end of every ten years.
So the young monk goes and spends ten years contemplating and meditating and at the end of his first ten years he goes to see the head abbot. The head abbot asks him how he likes it so far. The monk thinks very hard and says, "Bed hard."
The abbot thanks him and he goes back and spends another ten years meditating and contemplating. At the end of his second ten years he goes for his visit to the head abbot. Again the abbot asks him how it has been going. Again he monk thinks very hard and says, "Food bad."
Again the abbot dismisses him.
At the end of his third ten year period of meditatiing and contemplating once again he is in front of the head abbot and is again asked how it has been going. The monk says, "I quit."
The head abbot says, You know I'm not surprised. You've been doing nothing but complaining ever since you got here!"
i just don't why they do that to themselves except of course to anger parents. I guess I'm lucky. My guys seem to not be into stuff like that and they don't even seem to want their own cell phone. Of course they drive me nuts in every other way.
Barbara Walters, of 20/20, did a story on gender roles in Kabul,Afghanistan, several years before the Afghan conflict. She noted that women customarily walked five paces behind their husbands. She recently returned to Kabul and observed that women still walk behind their husbands. Despite the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime, the women now seem to, and are happy to maintain the old custom. Ms. Walters approached one of the Afghani women and asked, 'Why do you now seem happy with an old custom that you once tried so desperately to change?' The woman looked Ms. Walters straight in the eyes, and without hesitation said, "Land Mines".
Thanks Randy
-- Edited by GLHS60 on Sunday 16th of January 2011 11:53:09 PM
-- Edited by GLHS60 on Sunday 16th of January 2011 11:53:37 PM
-- Edited by GLHS60 on Sunday 16th of January 2011 11:54:26 PM
A good laugh for people in the over 60 group !!! Also for those who know people like us.
When I bought my Blackberry I thought about the 30-year business I ran with 1800 employees, all without a cell phone that plays music, takes videos, pictures and communicates with Face book and Twitter.I signed up under duress for Twitter and Facebook, so my seven kids, their spouses, 13 grandkids and 2 great grand kids could communicate with me in the modern way. I figured I could handle something as simple as Twitter with only 140 characters of space.
That was before one of my grandkids hooked me up for Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl, Twitterfon, Tweetie and Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix and something that sends every message to my cell phone and ev ery other program within the texting world.
My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of everything except the bowel movements of the entire next generation. I am not ready to live like this. I keep my cell phone in the garage in my golf bag.
The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they say I get lost every now and then going over to the grocery store or library. I keep that in a box under my tool bench with the Blue tooth [it's red] phone I am supposed to use when I drive. I wore it once and was standing in line at Barnes and Noble talking to my wife and everyone in the nearest 50 yards was glaring at me. I had to take my hearing aid out to use it,and I got a little loud.
I mean the GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the lady inside that gadget was the most annoying, rudest person I had run into in a long time. Every 10 minutes, she would sarcastically say, "Re-calc-u-lating." You would think that she could be nicer. It was like she could barely tolerate me. She would let go with a deep sigh and then tell me to make a U-turn at the next light. Then if I made a right turn instead. Well, it was not a good relationship.
When I get really lost now, I call my wife and tell her the name of the cross streets and while she is starting to develop the same tone as Gypsy, the GPS lady, at least she loves me.
To be perfectly frank, I am still trying to learn how to use the cordless phones in our house. We have had them for 4 years, but I still haven't figured out how I can lose three phones all at once and have run around digging under chair cushions and checking bathrooms and the dirty laundry baskets when the phone rings.
The world is just getting too complex for me. They even mess me up every time I go to the grocery store. You would think they could settle on something themselves but this sudden "Paper or Plastic?" every time I check out just knocks me for a loop. I bought some of those cloth reusable bags to avoid looking confused, but I never remember to take them in with me.
Now I toss it back to them. When they ask me, "Paper or Plastic?" I just say, "Doesn't matter to me. I am bi-sacksual." Then it's their turn to stare at me with a blank look.I was recently asked if I tweet. I answered, No, but I do toot a lot."
