STORIES and STUFF

These are stories written by myself, my friends or you. I have left them in the form I got them in. I have made no changes in anyway (including spelling mistakes). PLEASE DO NOT BLAME ME! If I placed something up here, and you wish me to remove it for some reason, please contact me. I ask that you don't dowload any or use any without the consent of the writer first. If you want to e-mail a writer, e-mail me and i will ask them for you. PLEASE e-mail me and submit your own poems! I'll get them up as soon as possible.

 

Enjoy!

Jerry is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins! " He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time.ow do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood. I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or 1 can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life. "Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested.

"Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life. I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door, Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live. "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "...the paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was

going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man'. I knew I needed to take

action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said

Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything.'Yes' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled,'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them,'I am

choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived, thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.

 

By: unknown

 

Have you ever looked over to "what's his name" and thought to yourself, "How long has he been in this class?" You too can be this invisible, merely by following a simple set of rules: talk above people's heads, join an antisocial organization, never make eye contact in the halls, don't move on the bus.

 

First, avoid conversation at all costs. When not possible, talk above people's heads. Wonderful discussion suggestions include "the continuing evolution of the particle physics," or "the simplicity of Einstein's Theory of Relativity." People generally after the boredom of non-comprehension sets in, the person attempting dialogue should wander away to find amusement elsewhere.

 

Second, you should go and join a small organization. The purpose of this is, of course, not to meet new people, but rather to escape the cafeteria. This overcrowded grazing area is, all too often, a spawning ground for social activity. Small, little-known organizations generally provide a separate room, well hidden within the shadows in order to eat away from the masses. While in these "fortresses of solitude," you may complain about the hordes beyond the door, or simply hunch over your food, growling defensively while eyeing the other club members with suspicion.

 

Third, don't make eye contact in the halls. Try not to even think of the hall dwellers as humans, but rather as trees in a forest. Even better than this is envisioning them as slow-moving (or worse, stationary) pylons to be navigated around. If you don't acknowledge their existence they usually don't acknowledge yours.

 

Lastly, when on the bus, stay still. Choose a seat close to the front; this is often away from the more talkative individuals. Next position yourself so that you are staring out of the front or side window. You needn't be observing anything in particular it is merely a sign of disinterest. Then remain motionless for the entire ride. If possible, don't blink. It is not likely that you will be called upon to share your opinion and ideas when you are believed to be dead. If you know how, slowing down your breathing and heart rate won't hurt either.

 

Being unpopular is easy, just follow these simple rules and you will be shunned in no time.

 

By: Liam

 

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.

For once in her life 'twas on the right side of town.

She unpacked her things with such great ease.

As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.

 

How wonderful it was to have her own room.

School would be starting, she'd have friends over soon.

There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy

It's just the way she wanted her life to be.

 

On the first day of school, everything went great.

She made new friends and even got a date!

She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be,

Because I just got a date with the star of the team!"

 

To be known in this school you had to have a clout,

And dating this guy would sure help her out.

There was only one problem stopping her fate.

Her parents had said she was too young to date.

 

"Well, I just won't tell them the entire truth.

They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"

Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.

Her parents frowned but said, "All right."

 

Excited, she got ready for the big event

But as she rushed around like she had no sense,

She began to feel guilty about all the lies,

But what's a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride?

 

Well the pizza was good, and the party was great,

But the moonlight ride would have to wait.

For Jeff was half drunk by this time.

But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.

 

Then the room filled with smoke and Jeff took a puff.

Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff.

Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point

But only after he'd smoked another joint.

 

They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,

Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.

They finally made it to the point at last,

And Jeff started trying to make a pass.

 

A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all

(and by a pass, I dont mean playing football).

"Perhaps my parents were right....maybe I am too young.

Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb."

 

With all of her might, she pushed Jeff away:

"Please take me home, I dont want to stay."

Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.

In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.

 

As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,

Jenny knew that her life was in danger.

She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,

But he just got faster as they neared the town.

 

"Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied.

I really went out for a moonlight ride."

Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.

"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"

 

She doesn't remember the force of impact.

Just that everything all of a sudden went black.

She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,

And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!"

 

Voices she heard...a few words at best.

But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.

Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right,

And if the people in the other car were alive.

 

She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad.

"You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad."

These voices echoed inside her head,

As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.

 

They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do.

But it looks as if we'll lose you too."

"But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried.

"We're sorry, Jenny, they also died."

 

Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done

I only wanted to have just one night of fun."

"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim,

And wish I could return their families to them."

 

"Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied,

And that it's my fault so many have died.

Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"

The nurse just stood there ~ she never agreed.

 

But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes

And a few moments later Jenny died.

A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do your best

To bid that girl her one last request?"

 

She looked at the man with eyes oh so sad.

"Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad."

This story is sad and unpleasant but true,

So young people take heed, it could have been you.

 

By: unknown

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Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

.....as told by many different people.....

 

MOSES: And God came down from the heavens, and he said unto the

Chicken, "Thou shalt cross the road." And the Chicken crossed the road,

and there was much rejoicing.

 

AGENT MULDER: You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many

more chickens have to cross the road before you believe it?

 

RICHARD M. NIXON: The chicken did not cross the road. I repeat, the

chicken did NOT cross the road.

 

JERRY SEINFELD: Why does anyone cross a road? And, why doesn't anyone

ever think to ask, "What the heck was this CHICKEN doing walking

around all over the place anyway?"

 

BILL GATES: I have just released the new Chicken Office 2000, which

will not only cross roads, but it will lay eggs, file your important

documents AND balance your checkbook. Unfortunately, when it divides 3

by 2 it gets 1.4999999999.

 

OLIVER STONE: The question is not "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

But is rather "Who was crossing the road at the same time, whom we

overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?"

 

DARWIN: Chickens, over great periods of time, have been naturally

selected in such a way that they are now genetically dispositioned to

cross roads.

 

LOUIS FARRAKHAN: The road, you will see, represents the black man. The

chicken crossed the "black man" in order to trample him and keep him down.

 

MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.: I envision a world where all chickens will be

free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.

 

GRANDPA: In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road.

Someone told us that the chicken had crossed the road, and that was

good enough for us.

 

MACHIAVELLI: The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares

why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was.

 

ALBERT EINSTEIN: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road moved

beneath the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

 

BUDDHA: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.

 

RALPH WALDO EMERSON: The chicken did not cross the road-it transcended

it.

 

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die. In the rain.

 

COLONEL HARLAN SANDERS: I missed one?

By: Unknown

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We are the Children of the Eighties

 

We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first "lost generation" nor today's lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak. We are the ones who played with Lego Building Blocks when they were just building blocks and gave Malibu Barbie crewcuts with safety scissorsthat never really cut.

 

We collected Garbage Pail Kids and Cabbage Patch Kids and My Little Ponies and Hot Wheels and He-Man action figures and thought GI Joe looked just a little bit like I would when I was a man. Big Wheels and bicycles with streamers were the way to go, and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city.

 

Imagination was the key. It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for you to be Luke and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a tent in the forest. Your world was the backyard and it was all you needed. With your pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang back up to you and everyone wanted a skirt like the Material Girl and a glove like Michael Jackson's.

 

Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Stringsteen and The Bangles perfectly and have no idea why. We recite lines with the Ghostbusters and still look to The Goonies for a great adventure. We flip through T.V. stations and stop at The A Team and Knight Rider and Fame and laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster and what you talkin' 'bout Willis? We hold strong affections for The Muppets and The Gummy Bears and why did they take the Smurfs off the air?

 

After school specials were only about cigarettes and step-families, the Polka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't the Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated? We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, Beverly Clearly, Richard Scarry and The Electric Company.

 

Friendship bracelets were ties you couldn't break and friendship pins went on shoes - preferably hightop Velcro Reebox - and pegged jeans were in, as were Units belts and layered socks and jean jackets and jams and charm necklaces and side pony tails and just tails. Rave was a girl's best friend; braces with colored rubber bands made you cool.

 

The back door was always open and Mom served only red Kool-Aid to the neighborhood friends, who never drank the New Coke. Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours. All you needed to be a princess was high heels and an apron; the Sit'n'Spin always made you dizzy but never made you stop; Pogoballs were dangerous weapons and Chinese Jump Ropes never failed to trip someone.

 

In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman or SpiderMan or R2D2 and in your treehouse you were king. In the Eighties, nothing was wrong. Did you know the president was shot? Star Wars was not only a movie. Did you ever play in a bomb shelter? Did you see the Challenger explode or feed the homeless man? We forgot Vietnam and watched Tiananemen Square on CNN and bought pieces of the Berlin Wall at the store. AIDS was not the number one killer in the United States. We didn't start the fire, Billy Joel.

 

In the Eighties, we redefined the American Dream, and those years defined us. We are the generation in between strife and facing strife and not turning our backs. The Eighties may have made us idealistic, but it's that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children - the first children of the twenty-first century. Never forget:

We are the children of the Eighties.

 

By: Unknown

 

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