A friend of mine died tragically this weekend. He was far too young. Has there ever been an instance of someone who died too old?
For what is it all but being hatched,
And running about the yard,
To the day of the block?
Save that a man has an angel’s brain,
And sees the ax from the first!
Edgar Lee Masters
Spoon River Anthology
You can’t chase down happiness like a hunted animal. While you might pursue–and catch–a great many other things, you’ll have to find happiness within yourself. Love yourself and let others love you. Ain’t no other way, folks.
If you could be anyone in the world at any time, who would it be? By ‘be,’ we don’t mean that you’d simply have the person’s appearance, property or talents, but that you would actually be that person. Who would you choose?
If it’s anyone other than the person you look at in the mirror every morning, you’re doing something wrong.
Next time you’re feeling blue, take a moment to think about a kid in the Horn of Africa.
Do you imagine he’s concerned about how much it will cost to fix that weird noise the car is making, or do you think he’s a little more worried about where he’s going to find food to put in his belly and maybe live for another day?
Tell the people who matter that you love them, and don’t walk away angry. Among my most priceless possessions is the knowledge that the last words I ever spoke to my mother were ‘I love you too.’
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Whitney Houston is dead at 48 a representative of the beloved singer announced today. Although cause of death has yet to be determined, even an encephalitic gibbon knows that drugs were the most likely culprit.
After a series of chart-busting hits the 1980s and the early 1990s, Houston’s reputation and career began a rapid simultaneous decline in the late 1990s, as the multiple-platinum artist devolved into a ranting, crack-addled bag lady. The enduring tragedy of Houston’s story is that her beauty, voice and innocence–the three transcendent qualities which made the performer unique–had been squandered long before she died.
As with all stories of addiction and degradation, Houston’s fall did not occur overnight. She came to her abject and fatal road by a variety of paths, each winding tortuously through thickets of shame and poor choices and into the pungent morass of despair. Those various and meandering trails, however, if diligently followed, all terminate at a single source.
The single worst thing about playing Facebook games is that Facebook, unwilling to let you wallow privately in the admission that yours is a life devoid of any meaning or real human intimacy, trumpets the unfortunate truth to all your Facebook “friends.”
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Cretinous 24-Hour party person Charlie Sheen has managed to keep his winning smile throughout his myriad legal and personal woes. However, like so much else in Hollywood, it turns out that Sheen’s pearly whites are fakes, his toothy grin the result of porcelain and Polident.
This comes straight from the spunky mouth of Kacey Jordan, who spent time with the self-destructing TV personality during his recent 36-hour coke binge. Jordan, who is delightedly making herself a talk-show sensation at Sheen’s expense, calls herself an adult actress because she is paid to have sex on camera. However, as she also receives payment for non-filmed sex, she can add ‘whore’ to her list of credits.
Jordan says that most of Sheen’s remaining handful of teeth are gold, and that the actor wears a porcelain bridge to prevent young children from screaming when they see him pass. According to Jordan, the reason for this is clear: “Drugs.” Jordan is not a doctor, but she has played a naughty nurse on several occasions, giving her the confidence to make this medical diagnosis.
If these sad revelations contain even a grain of truth, Sheen has fallen even further than anyone could have guessed. It is too late to wish the former star a normal life, but perhaps not too late to simply hope for his continuing survival. The upshot of Sheen’s grotesque smile contains at least one positive, however. The actor’s dental woes should serve him well during his next stint in prison, where smooth, slick gums are highly prized.
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If you’ve got a swingin’ pair of nuts hanging pendulously from your trailer hitch, then you most definitely are.
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In a dark and slightly moist basement somewhere, Rolando “Cashew Dick” Negrin is jumping for joy. The TSA worker and his stunted penis have done their time in the barrel, and are now free to slink off into blessed anonymity. With a single request, “Shooter,” a contestant on TV’s The Bachelorette, catapulted himself from obscurity to become America’s newest and most exciting target of ridicule.
“Ask me about my nickname,” Shooter urges the Bachelorette, hilariously ignorant of the humiliation tsunami he has set in motion, which comes crashing down upon him just a few minutes later.
Hey! Wanna Hear Why They Call Me Guy Who Once Had Sex With A Chicken? It’s Kinda Embarrassing: The Bachelorette Meets Shooter, the Man With the Saddest Nickname Backstory Ever — Vulture.
Rolando Negrin, a TSA worker apparently hung like a larval mosquito, became increasingly upset by jeers about his economy-sized penis.
Instead of going out and buying himself a really big American truck, Rolando went apeshit and assaulted his annoying co-worker.
While Rolando may not relish the attention paid to his unimpressive meat-missile, he will hopefully take some satisfaction in the idea that by beating on his co-worker, he at least got to manhandle a prick that was much larger than a baby’s thumb.
See Rolando Go Off Half-Cocked: FOXNews.com – TSA Worker Arrested After Jokes, Fight About Size of Genitalia.