A Heimishe

Dovid to Cheskel to Moishe...

2007-10-08T22:09:00.000-05:00

Scrambled words - Cool

2007-09-16T23:32:00.000-05:00

I have received this email:

Someone out there either has too much spare time or is deadly at Scrabble. (Wait till you see the last one)

DORMITORY:
When you rearrange the letters:
DIRTY ROOM

PRESBYTERIAN:
When you rearrange the letters:
BEST IN PRAYER

ASTRONOMER:
When you rearrange the letters:
MOON STARER

DESPERATION:

When you rearrange the letters:
A ROPE ENDS IT

THE EYES:
When you rearrange the letters:
THEY SEE

GEORGE BUSH:
When you rearrange the letters:
HE BUGS GORE

THE MORSE CODE :
When you rearrange the letters:
HERE COME DOTS

SLOT MACHINES:
When you rearrange the letters:
CASH LOST IN ME

ANIMOSITY:
When you rearrange the letters:
IS NO AMITY

ELECTION RESULTS:
When you rearrange the letters:
LIES - LET'S RECOUNT

SNOOZE ALARMS:
When you rearrange the letters:
ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S

A DECIMAL POINT:
When you rearrange the letters:
IM A DOT IN PLACE

THE EARTHQUAKES:
When you rearrange the letters:
THAT QUEER SHAKE

ELEVEN PLUS TWO:
When you rearrange the letters:
TWELVE PLUS ONE

AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE:

MOTHER-IN-LAW:
When you rearrange the letters:
WOMAN HITLER

Yep! Someone with waaaaaaaaaaay too much time on their hands! (Probably a son-in-law).

Hannity interview a muslim guy who is on the Terror watch list

2007-09-16T19:42:00.000-05:00

Gotta' Love Rosh Hashanah

2007-09-11T18:56:00.000-05:00

"Jewish Girl Blues" by Bradley Fish - loving the girls...

2007-08-22T20:26:00.000-05:00

The secret life of the Rabbi's daughter

2007-08-19T08:43:00.000-05:00

West London: a 16-year-old girl in pastel-blue cowboy boots dissolves a tab of acid under her tongue and heads across to the squat where her dealer lives. He hands her a stash of drugs, and she reaches into her bra for the money to pay him. Then the atmosphere changes.

“I sense sex in the air. The acid is kicking in and I lie back on a tattered beanbag and Tim and the other squatters stand around me in a half moon. I see them swaying in psychedelic colour. I know what they want. I want it too. I tease my tits out of my bra. I feel powerful, in control…”

Thirty years on, the wayward girl is a nervous first-time author whose explicit reminiscences are about to create a stir in polite Jewish society in Britain and beyond. It isn’t just what she describes (“a true story of sex, drugs and orthodoxy”), it’s who she is – the granddaughter of a chief rabbi of Israel, daughter of a renowned London rabbi. Streets in Jewish communities around the world are named after her family.

She has shaved five letters off her surname to become Reva Mann, but she is instantly recognisable in the small, gossipy world of Anglo-Jewry. For a non-Jewish analogy, imagine the frisson if a graphic autobiography were published by a daughter of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Religious leaders’ offspring are supposed to behave themselves or at least keep quiet – not to reveal all like this.

The book is a publisher’s dream, a gripping tale of a woman searching in all the wrong places and ultimately finding herself, which begs the questions: why did she get lost? And how lost did she get? The answers to both are riveting.

She misspent her teenage years in a chemical haze, shaming her family, frequenting drug dens and seedy clubs, sleeping with strangers. Finally she was hospitalised with hepatitis B, which she had picked up from a heroin addict. It woke her up to the fact that she was putting herself in real danger. “I wasn’t addicted to a particular drug. I was addicted to the false sense of intimacy that I reached when I was stoned out of my mind.”

She was a middle-class girl from a dysfunctional family. One publisher has called the book “a beacon of light to women”. If this makes it sound alarmingly like a cross between a self-help book and a misery memoir, let me assure you that it’s much more fun than either of those. Not least because, thank God, Reva has a sense of humour. What’s slightly surprising, given the voracious sensuality so lovingly detailed in the book, is that, in person, she is so shy.

Physically, Reva Mann is tiny. Her voice is so low that even in a quiet room I have to strain to hear her. She is a quiet 50-year-old – a nonsmoker, virtually teetotal. Abstemious, controlled. She doesn’t even touch coffee (“no stimulants”), drinks hot water and lemon instead.

Looking back, she says: “I wasn’t in control at all. I was lost, I was miserable, I was frightened. I didn’t feel safe.” It’s a word she keeps returning to. “Drugs and losing myself gave me a very temporary illusion of safety.” Her huge, dark eyes look out from another world; her short, mussed-up hair adds to the impression of a kitten rescued from drowning. This is misleading, however, because in fact Reva rescued herself. And how desperately she was in need of salvation. Not just once, from her promiscuous, drug-abused youth, but a second time too, from the religious sanctuary she fled to in Jerusalem.

The book is hard to put down – it’s so personal and raw. It’s not always pretty, but there’s no self-pity. “It’s brutally honest,” she says. “I’m not the subtle-hint type. I’m telling it as it is. I’m passionate, and you can only be who you are.” She decided to write it while she had breast cancer. Having read the book, I know when and where she first felt the lump. I also know, or feel I know, Reva’s mother and lover intimately. Along with her emotionally inarticulate father, her mentally handicapped sister, her ex-boyfriends and her kind but sexually repressed ex-husband. I know how Reva lost her virginity, why she had an abortion, how exactly she gave birth to her three children, and all the ins and outs of her lesbian fling. In short, I know the sorts of things about her that you might tell your closest friends. And many more that most people would want to keep to themselves.

Once upon a time, she was the life and soul of the party – free and easy, up for anything. Some of her friends miss this old Reva, she says. Then she swung to the other extreme, the equivalent perhaps of running off to a convent, immersing herself in the highly regulated life of an ultra-orthodox Jewish wife. She lived in a religious enclave in Jerusalem, where married women wear wigs so nobody but their husbands can see their hair, and dress in long sleeves, high necklines and black tights, even in the heat of an Israeli summer. Where couples have sex at prescribed times of the month, and sleep in separate beds the rest of the time.

Then, feeling stifled, she threw off her sheitel and fled the house in tight jeans in search of hot, adulterous sex. Not long ago she might have been stoned for this. Finally, she says, she has found a better way, somewhere in between her two, radically different, former selves – “the sinful and the sacred, the religious and the profane”.

As she describes her zigzagging path between rampant drug-fuelled sex and intense religious devotion, she gives a fascinating insight into the usually cloistered world of ultra-orthodox Judaism. Some of the rules, taken to the nth degree, seem pedantic: the debate over whether or not you should tear toilet paper off the roll on the Sabbath, for example (you’re creating two halves on what’s supposed to be a day of rest). Or having to let a rabbi inspect her underwear to decide whether or not her discharge was clear enough that she could be pronounced “clean”.

But it would be wrong to imagine Reva has turned her back on her religion. “I’m passionately Jewish. I love Torah [the code of Jewish law].” She adores her faith, talks about it movingly as if it too were a lover. Some of the rituals she describes, such as taking a mikveh, or purifying bath, to be ready for sex with her husband after menstruating, are strangely beautiful. “When you’ve got your period, your body is in a state of not being able to create,” she explains. “That makes you impure, although it’s a terrible translation – the Hebrew word doesn’t have a negative connotation. So we separate. Then we purify ourselves in the mikveh, which is like a rebirth. You come out in a state where you can conceive, in your ultimate feminine state.” In “impurity” they don’t touch at all. It sounds drastic, but it works for hundreds of thousands of couples, she says. When they come together again it’s a real event.

These glimpses of an exotic world add a Memoirs-of-a-Geisha edge to her own emotional journey. The book started off as a fictional account, but an editor told Reva the plot wasn’t realistic: all these things could not have happened to one person. But they had – to Reva. I suspect there is more she’s not telling us. More sexual shenanigans, more bizarre religious practices that she left out lest she be accused of embellishing. She didn’t need to make anything up. But she did want people to understand she was telling the truth. “That was when I realised I was going to have to ‘come out’,” she recalls. “I also understood there was something here that was going to reach out to people. So I went for it.”

“Mann” in Yiddish has connotations of being “a somebody”. Growing up, she felt like a nobody. She had wealthy, respected parents, a liberal education at a private London college. But the polished veneer hid secrets and lies. Her mother suffered from manic depression, and was addicted to prescription drugs. “She relied on uppers to get her through the day and downers to help her sleep at night.” She would perch on window ledges and threaten suicide. One minute she would be exuberant, warm, glamorous; the next, shabby and hysterical. “I never knew what it was going to be – this mum or the other mum – and I didn’t feel safe.” That word again. Her mother told Reva: “You’ll be the death of me.”

Her mother had breast cancer and had a mastectomy when Reva was 12, but nobody talked about what was going on, which Reva found terrifying. Her parents were both hypochondriacs, overwhelmed by anxiety. Her father was a hero to his congregation but couldn’t talk openly to his daughter. There was never any question of trying to get professional help for her mother’s psychological problems: what if people found out? Difficult feelings were kept in, hidden. “I wasn’t allowed an opinion, a voice, an emotion. My dad kept everything on an even keel for my mother. My parents were so far off in their own world that they never seemed to have time for me.” Yet she idolised her father, still does. “He was an incredible leader of the Jewish people. An original thinker, a huge personality. Being his daughter wasn’t easy, but he was my dad, he made me who I am today. And my mum: she was nuts, but she was great. She was so funny.

”Her mother had once been a modern-languages teacher, “a strong, innovative person”. The woman Reva grew up with was “a shaking jelly”. Part of what had gone so very wrong was that their first child, Michelle, five years older than Reva, had severe learning difficulties, having been deprived of oxygen at birth. As a little girl, Reva was devastated when Michelle, her playmate and best friend, was sent away to live in a residential home. From then on, Reva was terrified of being abandoned. Rightly so, it seemed, when, on finding out about her first serious boyfriend, her parents cut her off.

Why? He was not Jewish. She met him at the backstage bar of the Hammersmith Odeon when he was taking photos for a music magazine; she was friends with a groupie. They snorted cocaine together and had urgent sex in the dirty toilets. Despite this sordid beginning, the boyfriend, whom she calls Chris, was a good sort, and his family welcomed her with open arms. They moved into a flat that she found through a contact of her father’s. Her father gave her 24 hours to leave his house, erecting “an icy, impenetrable wall around himself”. Cut off from her family she felt uprooted, adrift and homesick. She felt she had exiled herself. “It was my worst nightmare,” she recalls. “My sister had gone. I saw that from a child’s perspective. And now me. I felt lots of anger. It was very hard. I was more lost than ever. Now, today, I understand it.” Has she forgiven him? “I didn’t forgive him. I didn’t have to forgive him. I understood him. I came to terms with it. The community was important to him, and he’d had enough. I’d put him through the wringer. Of course, when I found out he’d bought the flat, I realised he was just playing tough love.”

Reva was ecstatic when she realised her father still cared. Her boyfriend was horrified. They split up, and Reva moved to Israel, with her parents’ blessing. She trained as a birth assistant. Then, in her mid-twenties, she enrolled in a yeshiva, a religious school, where she effectively trained to become a wife. It was there that, one night, religious studies between girls turned into something else: she found herself making love to a fellow student. “I took the dominant role, relishing the opportunity to experience and enjoy a woman the way a man does, and slipped my finger inside her until her pleasure could be heard on the other side of the dormitory wall.”

“I’m not into women,” she tells me today, slightly sheepishly, likening the atmosphere at the yeshiva to a boys’ public school. “There was lots of repressed, unleashed sexual energy.” She loved the place, although her old, wild life still threatened to pull her back. “I had a feeling of coming home. A feeling of safety, that I’d been searching for. A community, love, belonging.” It’s easy to see how someone from an emotionally chaotic background would find security in an institution with strict rules, a blueprint for how to live. The yeshiva had its own matchmaker, a formidable woman from eastern Europe who sent Reva on cringeworthy dates. “Darlink, you need someone who can understand your past…” One suitor was put off by the way she tucked into her salad – “He feared your appetite might spill over into other areas.” Another told her he tied his ankles to his bed at night to avoid rolling over onto his front in his sleep, lest he be tempted to masturbate. Weirdos, she thought. Still she yearned to be a good Jewish wife.

And then she was introduced to Simcha, a kind, humble, religious man. He gave her a prayer book instead of an engagement ring. She ignored this warning sign that he was “horny only for heaven”. “Here is the combination I have been longing for, the union of body and soul that will finally satiate me,” she thought. Wrong. They married after knowing each other for a matter of weeks, and having never touched, literally. She wore long sleeves and a thick veil. Simcha was too religious for her parents’ liking. “After all the sacrifices we’ve made, the elocution lessons, the nose job – is this our reward, having you wear that dowdy dress and mumbling prayers?” her mother asked. On the wedding day, her father looked around at the guests despairingly: “Why has she rejected my Judaism and gone for this cultist idolising of half-wits?” The wedding is one of the funniest scenes in the book. But the marriage was a disaster. She was utterly lonely and incredibly frustrated. Simcha belonged to the strictest Hassidic sect of Judaism and hid his fear of intimacy behind the ultra-orthodox rules. She likens his touch to “the soft petting of a kindly uncle”. But they had three children together (now teenagers).

As she went into labour with the first, another terrible, hilarious scene ensued (the film rights can’t be far off). Between contractions, she found herself trying to calm down both her parents. Her mother was panicking, thinking back to her own traumatic labour with Reva’s sister, and needed her Rescue Remedy. Her father responded by thinking he was having a heart attack and reaching for his little blue pills. Her husband wittered on about the sufferings of the Jewish people: “The amniotic fluid is like the water of the Red Sea parting. Your contractions are the birth pangs of a nation being born.”

When she gave birth to her third child, Simcha wasn’t even present. That was when she realised she could do without him. Their divorce was precipitated by Reva having an affair with the builder, who came to fit a new kitchen and later whisked her off on his motorbike. Her husband reacted calmly, and carried on being a good father. They’re on excellent terms today. As she says, “Our divorce was better than our marriage”.

And then came Sam, whose level of pain matched hers. They met in a bar, struck up a flirtatious conversation. A few tequilas and a joint later they were in bed. “Every time I hold you I feel how starved you are for love,” he said. It was Sam who suggested she visit her sister, who she hadn’t seen for over 20 years. Unfortunately he was also heavily into drugs and pornography, and constantly lusted after other women. “Sam gave me everything I needed – and everything I didn’t,” says Reva. “It’s five years that I haven’t seen him and I’m just starting to get over it. It took me a long time because it was so intense. It was the deepest connection I’ve ever had with a man. He understood what I was, and how much I needed everything I didn’t get when I was a kid.”

With her parents’ death, Reva came into her own. Her father died first, with Reva by his side. It was beautiful, she says. “The most wonderful experience. I was privileged to be with him. I saw that when someone dies, it’s just that they’re not around. They don’t really die. I saw my father’s soul leave, I saw the body just become a vessel. It just carries you. This is what life is: we live, and we die. You see your own vulnerability. You realise every breath you have is a gift.”

Her mother’s death was altogether different. She committed suicide. After her father died, Reva had persuaded her mother to come over to live with her in Israel. She even got her to see a therapist, which Reva’s father had never done. She thought she could finally achieve what he had not. She sees this now as an attitude of pride before a terribly hard fall. I think she was just doing her best, like any daughter would. The therapy session went well. Too well. Faced with too much truth too soon, her mother committed suicide the following day, by swallowing sleeping pills and tying a plastic bag around her head.

In retrospect, she realises her father had somehow kept her mother alive. “He had a way to make her feel okay. Which I stupidly did not understand. I thought I could put her in therapy at the age of 80 and everything would be fine.” Does she regret that? “Well, she killed herself the next day. Because she was very bright, and she got it. I have been told since that people who go through that kind of epiphany, who are suicidal, often kill themselves, and that it was actually irresponsible of the psychiatrist – he should have gone more slowly. But she did not want to live. She could not cope. She was an anxiety mess.

“It was the most painful thing, out of all the things I have been through.” Did she feel responsible? She nods. “It was so terrible. I’d thought: finally, I’ve got my mum here! I’ve always wanted a mum. I know that if I was with her for more than five minutes I’d be tearing out my hair, but I miss her so much.”

Her mother had talked about killing herself for years. Was there any sense of relief – after living under the cloud of the possibility for so long? “You’d think so, but no. A mother is a mother, even if they don’t function properly and you’re mothering them. You have a basic need. There are certain things you can’t replace. Who else is interested in every detail of my children? And when you lose both your parents, you become an orphan.”

Reva changed their names out of respect. “I’m not hiding my identity. I just wanted to be a bit removed. It’s like a buffer zone.” I suspect this buffer zone will prove to be tissue-thin. She says she wouldn’t want her teenage children to read the book, because they’re too young to read about their mother as a sexual being. Reva hopes, possibly naively, that people will consider the message of the book as a whole, rather than focus on particular scenes. “I’ve used those to show what it’s really about – this ricocheting from one extreme to another, and to keep that feel of what that is so that when I come out of it you can see the power of what was holding me.”

She never questions the existence of God. She has experienced moments of religious ecstasy, but says chasing after this is more escapism. What she craves now is not ecstatic highs – “I couldn’t cope with the down any more” – but “the real thing. A continued sense of wellbeing. I never understood that all of what I was doing was just medicating terrible pain. Finally, I allowed myself a rendezvous with that pain. And I realised: I wasn’t bad, I’d done all these things for a reason. Now I’m only going for nourishment. I’ve found myself. I have myself. I don’t need some guy to make me feel worthy of being. It’s been hard. It’s a lonely journey.”

How painful was it to write? “I had to relive it, that was part of the stress. I didn’t want to go back, I wanted to go forward. But you do write so much better when you are in that state. When the tears are streaming down your face, you can really express it. You have to go into a trance, almost, where nothing else exists, just that chapter.”

Does she feel sorry for her earlier self? I can understand why her boyfriend Chris thought her parents were bigots. Her father wouldn’t even look at him. Tears well up in her eyes, but she insists: “My parents were amazing people. We have this saying: if everybody were to put their problems on the table, everybody would pick their own up. You’d rather have your own.” Does it feel exposing, to have her highs and lows in print, on the page, out there? “It was scary at first, but I’m happy with it,” she says. “I feel so much better in myself that I can tell the story because that’s not where I am. I don’t relate to that any more. It’s in me, it’s my past, but I don’t feel it’s exposing of me today. Nothing destructive is pulling me back now. I have self-respect. I’m okay with myself, for the first time in my life.”

Writing the book was part of her healing. “I was waiting to get back to life – but I didn’t have much of a life to get back to. Writing everything down was about my beginning to be a new person. I wasn’t just getting it off my chest.” She laughs at the painfully apt metaphor. She hopes the book might help people who are going through cancer, or divorce, or who are trapped in a destructive pattern of behaviour. Hiding, not brave enough to cope with whatever’s pushing them towards it. “I feel that with this book I’ve done something good. I’ve done what the Torah is really about, which is loving your neighbour, in the way that my father and my grandfather did, reaching out to people. If I could do that, I would feel I was a good Jew.” She sighs wistfully. “Then I would feel I was really the rabbi’s daughter.”

Despite her protestations that she’s a changed woman, you sense the old Reva isn’t quite dead. That’s why she keeps everything so carefully in check; she’s balanced, but precariously. “We can both have a glass of wine and you’ll be tipsy and go home and have a nice evening. For me, that glass might lead to two or three… I know that taste and it’s the taste of oblivion.”

The Rabbi’s Daughter: A True Story of Sex, Drugs and Orthodoxy, by Reva Mann, is published by Hodder & Stoughton on Aug 16, 2007.

Taken from the TimesOnline.

Free Chosid Screen saver

2007-08-10T11:20:00.000-05:00

Lipa Dose it again... YEAH!!!

2007-07-31T09:56:00.001-05:00

How to find a clean Toilet when on the road

2007-07-05T10:56:00.001-05:00

New technology is so cool that when you're on the road you can now find a clean toilet through your cell phone.

MizPee.com finds the closest, cleanest toilet and gives you entertaining reading material once you get there. Since the service is cell phone-based, it's always with you, when you really need it.

After you have finished your own, uh, personal business, you may want to check out what deals there are at businesses in the area. MizPee has plenty of promotions from a variety of businesses.

July 4th Fireworks

2007-07-01T21:11:00.001-05:00

I just got back from seeing the July 4th fireworks at the Rockland Community College (RCC) it was beautiful to watch it not to mention the concert was great, but I have to say if you have been there before you will know that if you don't get there early enough don't plan on getting a parking anywhere close forget about finding a good spot to sit down (on the grass) and watch.

They were playing from about 8:00 till 9:30 then at 9:30 they stated with the fireworks for a half hour straight, it was awesome. But now can you imagine all those hundreds of people trying to get away from this place with only a 2 lane road (one in each direction) and cars parked on both sides of the road (this makes it a 4 lane road automaticly) gosh that's a nighmare, forget about when someone hits another car in the traffic (which happens almost every year) they won't budge until cops come to fill the report (that's makes this a 1 lane road) cars beeping, hunking and people screaming from anger (NY drivers) move... move... move... you get the picture.

Now for those who haven't seen the fireworks this year yet, here is a clip of fireworks from last year at the Baltimore Inner Harbor.

L'Chaim to the New iPhone!

2007-06-26T21:21:00.000-05:00

http://www.aish.com/movies/jPhone.asp

Today's Quotes

2007-06-19T16:26:00.000-05:00

"Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand." Woody Allen

"Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on Saturday night."Rodney Dangerfield

"There are a number of mechanical devices which increase sexual arousal, particularly in women. Chief among these is the Mercedes-Benz 380SL." Lynn Lavner

"Sex at age 90 is like trying to shoot pool with a rope." Camille Paglia

"Sex is one of the nine reasons for incarnation. The other eight are unimportant." George Burns

"Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake a whole relationship.." Sharon Stone

"Hockey is a sport for white men. Basketball is a sport for black men. Golf is a sport for white men dressed like black pimps." Tiger Woods

"My mother never saw the irony in calling me a son-of-a-bitch." Jack Nicholson

"Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is." Barbara Bush (Former US First Lady, and you didn't think Barbara had a sense of humor)

"Ah, yes, divorce, from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man's genitals through his wallet." Robin Williams

"Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place." Billy Crystal

"According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful." Robert De Niro

"There's a new medical crisis. Doctors are reporting that many men are having allergic reactions to latex condoms. They say they cause severe swelling. So what's the problem?" Dustin Hoffman

"There's very little advice in men's magazines, because men think, 'I know what I'm doing. Just show me somebody naked !" Jerry Seinfeld

"See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time." Robin Williams

"It's been so long since I've had sex, I've forgotten who ties up whom." Joan Rivers

"Sex is one of the most wholesome, beautiful and natural experiences money can buy." Steve Martin

"You don't appreciate a lot of stuff in school until you get older. Little things like being spanked every day by a middle-aged woman. Stuff you pay good money for in later life." Elmo Phillips

"Bigamy is having one wife too many. Monogamy is the same." Oscar Wilde

"It isn't premarital sex if you have no intention of getting married." George Burns

Why is SH so important in Yiddish

2007-06-12T11:22:00.000-05:00

· SHMOK

· SHLEPER

· SHNORER

· SHLIMAZL

· SHVANTZ

· SHVITZER

· SHMONDRIK

· SHPAIEN OIFN KEIVER

· SHTIPN ARAIN

· SHTEIN UN HOISN

· SHTARK VI A FERD

· SHTARK VI AIZN

· SHIKLDIKE OIGN

· SHPILKES IN TUCHES

· SHEINER TUCHES

· SHMUTZIKE CHAIE

· SHVARTZE IORN

· SHVARTZE CHAIE

· SHTIK FLEISH

· SHTIK DREK

· SHEINE REINE KAPURE

· SHEIGUETZ

· SHKUTZEM

· SHTARBT AVEK

· SHYGETZ

· FOILE SHTIK

· ER PISHT OIF SHTEINER

· DI LEVONE SHAINT

· DI SHTERN BLITZN

· DER POTZ SHTEIT UN DI EIER SHVITZN

And the most impotant , stays in a happy place: Te Shikse...

2007-06-07T22:36:00.001-05:00

Benjamin Moore Paint Sample

Best Divorce letter ever

Bic Razor

Bluewhale-Read..

Bubble Gum

Can a pig have a piggy bank

Delete Wipe and Trash

Dropped calls, Cingular

FedEx shirt

How to motivate a racer..

Kinko - White Out

KKarate School Ad

Mr. Clean on a Street in New York

Nike

Outdoor Bridge for Adidas Soccer

Lego Crane

Last but not least... Stop Smoking

Does size "really" matter?

2007-06-07T21:17:00.001-05:00

If you buy or sell on eBay, you should read this

2007-06-07T18:55:00.000-05:00

If you're buying or selling items over the internet, something most of us are doing these days, there are ways to make sure you have a safety net in place.

I wanted to share the following link that will take you to a very short video of a news story that WFAA Channel 8 News aired on last night, June 4th, regarding safety tips when buying online.

http://www.wfaa.com/video/index.html?nvid=149221&shu=1

Microsoft Surface - The Power

2007-06-05T12:25:00.001-05:00

How to explain SEX in Yiddish

2007-05-29T16:47:00.001-05:00

Have you ever wondered how can you explain sex in Yiddish? well, Wikipedia has an ארטיקל in Yiddish.. it is very interesting to read those words in Yiddish.. Don't forget to read the ליסטע פון אלע סעקס פאזיציעס

סעקס

סעקס (אדער געשלעכט) איז אן אקט צו אויסדרוקן געפילן פון ליבשאפט צווישן צוויי מענטשן וואס אין אלגעמיין איז דאס צווישן מאן און פרוי. איר ציל איז צו פארמערן די וועלט מיט באשעפענישן.

צו האבען סעקס הײסט שטופּען

באדייט

דער אקט פון טרענען בריינגט פאר דעם מענטש א געוואלדיגע הנאה, און דערפאר נוצט מען איר אויך כדי צו אויסדריקן טיפע ליבשאפט צום באליבטן מיטן אנטפלעקן און רירן זייער באאלטענע גלידער. אין דער אלגעמיינעם סאציאלער אפמאך, מאכט מען סעקס נאר מיט א איינציגע פרוי צו לעבן און אויפשטעלן א שטוב צוזאם, אדעווען צוזאמען די קינדער.

סעקס פאר זיך איז א באהאלטענע טעמע וואס פרומע אידן רעדן נישט אפען קיין ווארט דערוועגן צוליב צניעות.

כראניק

צוויי פאקטארן שפילן א ראָלע אין סעקס; 1) ליבע 2) גלוסט.

פון די ראָלעס און אקטען ביי סעקס זענען קושען, ארום נעמען,

די מאדערנע וועלט טיילט איין סעקס אין 3 טיילן.

תאוה
ארגעזם
צוריקציען

1) די ערשטע טייל איז תאוה. תאוה ברענגט דעם שמאק צו א פולשטענדיקער שטייפקייט דאס פאסירט דורך די דינטשיגע אדערלעך וועלכע נעמען אריין בלוט אינעם פעניס, וואס ברענגט אז דער פעניס ווערט שטייף און אויסגעצויגן. אקטיווער שלייפן פונעם פעניס דורך מארסירן, צו מיט דער בלויזנער הענט אדער דורך נאגן דעם פעניס מיטן מויל מויל סעקס, אדער דורך נאטירליכע תשמיש, ברענגט דעם פעניס ארויסצולאזן א פייכטע גלענד וואס פאסירט אין די לעצטע רגעים איידער דעם קלימאקס

2) דער קלימאקס פאסירט ספאנטאן. וואס ברענגט דעם מענטש צו ארגעזעם, וואס זיינע מוסקלען אינעם פעניס שפייען אויס מיט קראפט מענליכער פליסיגקייט, אין וועלכן עס איז קאנצענטרירט עטליכע מיליאן ספרעמעס, וואס ווען דאס דערגרייכט אינעם אינערליכן טייל פון די קליטארע פון די פרוי ווערט צו מזל געבוירן א קינד ביז 9 מאנאט.

3) נאך בערך 15 סעקונעס נאך ארגעזם, קומט דער צוריקציען פעריאדע. וואס לאזט אוי דאס שטייפקייט אינעם פעניס. די בלוט לויפט צוריק ארויס, און די כוחות פונעם מענטש פארלאזן אים; די אויגן לעשן זיך אויס, און זיין ליבע וועפט אויס.

עס נעמט בערך 15 ביז 20 מינוט אז דער רייץ נאך סעקס זאל צוריקקומען צו איר פריערדיגער שטאנד, און שטייפקייט. עס זענען פארן געװיסענע לייט וועלן קענען דאס באווייזן מערערע מאל אן איבעררייס.

אויב מען אנאזינט האפט, (צ.ב.ש. עטליכע מאל א טאג) ווערט די זרע ווייניגער ביי די נעקסטע מאלן, ווייל דער קערפער יאגט נישט אָן באשאפן נייע זרע. אבער פיל אנאזינען איז נישט קיין סכנה פארן קערפער. אויך די רייץ ווערט שוואכער נאכן אנאזינען אדער ווען איינער אנאזינט האפט-מאל, און ווייניגער בלוט קומען צום פעניס, וואס דערפאר וועט די פעניס זיין ווייניגער שטייף.

לויט די פארשער איז געזונט צו ארויסנעמען זרע יעדן טאג וואס פארמיינד פראזאטע קרעבס [1].

סעקס אין די תורה

פון די תורה איז פארהאן פילע פארשידענע הלכות אישות וו.צ.ב. א פארבאט צו האבן געי סעקס צווישן צוויי מענער פערזאנען, א פארבאט צו האבן סעקס בשעת א פרוי איז א נדה, פארשידענע דינים און פירונגען. און אויך שפעטערע הלכות וואס שטאמן פון תקנת עזרא

קבלה רופט איר אן "מדת היסוד", - אלס די גרונט פון די תורה, נאך יוסף הצדיק, וואס איז בייגעשאטאנען נישט צו האבן סעקס מיט אשת פוטיפר.

ביי די פרומע קרייזן מעג א מאן טרענען נאר מיט זיין אייגנס פרוי. אבער לעצטנס האבן עטליכע רבנים פון די מזרחישע קרייזן ערלויבט זאלן בחורים מיט מיידלאך זיין צוזאמען סעקסואליש אויך איידער זייער חתונה אויב זייער פארבינדוג איז פעסט געשטעלט. די מזרחישע רבנים בריינגען א ראיה פון תנ"ך אז די יידישע קיסרים האבן געהאט פילגשים.

זעט אויך

The true meaning of the ABC's

2007-05-29T12:09:00.000-05:00

You are:

A: Attractive
B: Beautiful
C: Caring
D: Delicious
E: Exciting
F: Fun
G: Gorgeous
H: Heavenly
I: I'm
J: Just
K: Kidding

$17,000 for a Pacifier?

2007-05-28T21:51:00.001-05:00

Yes, you read it right! itsmybinky.com has released a Solid White Gold with 278 Diamonds baby Pacifier and the price for that is $17,000.00

A True Hero - Yisroel Chaim

2007-05-27T23:29:00.000-05:00

You have to see this!!! A friend sent me this unbelievable clip a while ago of Yisroel Chaim, a courageous 12-year old boy fighting for his life, who's a lesson in emuna for all of us. Between chemo sessions, he recorded his moving song, "There is a God".

Many of you may have already seen this but I can see this over and over again and it could still bring me tears to my eyes.

Again, This clip is somewhat of an old one, and Boruch Hashem Yisrael Chaim has made a complete recovery.

Explanation of the Street Signs

2007-05-25T14:33:00.000-05:00

Click on the image to view it in it's original size!

Good Health Tips

2007-05-21T12:50:00.000-05:00

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true?

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.
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Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.
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Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?

A: No, not at all. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!
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Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.
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Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!
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Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?

A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!!. Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?
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Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.
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Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO ...... Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!
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Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me.
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Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape!
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Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.

And Remember: "Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - a large Jack in one hand - a large cigar in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming "WOO HOO, What a Ride!"

What is Hebonics?

2007-05-10T13:16:00.000-05:00

The New York City Public Schools have officially declared Jewish English, now dubbed Hebronics, as a second language. Backers of the move say the city schools are the first in the nation to recognize Hebronics as a valid language and a significant attribute of American culture. According to Howard Ashland, linguistics professor at Brooklyn College and renowned Hebronics scholar, the sentence structure of Hebonics derives from middle and eastern European language patterns, as well as Yiddish.

Professor Shulman explains, "In Hebronics, the response to any question is usually another question with a complaint that is either implied or stated. Thus 'How are you?' may be answered, 'How should I be, with my bad feet?' Shulman says that Hebronics is a superb linguistic vehicle for expressing sarcasm or skepticism. An example is the repetition of a word with "sh" or "shm" at the beginning: "Mountains, shmountains. Stay away. You should want a nosebleed?"

Another Hebronics pattern is moving the subject of a sentence to the end, with its pronoun at the beginning: "It's beautiful, that dress."

Shulman says one also sees the Hebronics verb moved to the end of the sentence. Thus the response to a remark such as "He's slow as a turtle," could be: "Turtle, shmurtle! Like a fly in Vaseline he walks."

Shulman provided the following examples from his best-selling textbook,
Switched-On Hebronics:

Question: "What time is it?"
English answer: "Sorry, I don't know."
Hebronic response: "What am I, a clock?"

Remark: "I hope things turn out okay."
English answer: "Thanks."
Hebronic response: "I should be so lucky!"

Remark: "Hurry up. Dinner's ready."
English answer: "Be right there."
Hebronic response: "Alright already, I'm coming. What's with the 'hurry business? Is there a fire?"

Remark: "I like the tie you gave me; I wear it all the time."
English answer: "Glad you like it."
Hebronic response: "So what's the matter; you don't like the other ties I gave you?"

Remark: "Sarah and I are engaged."
English answer: "Congratulations!"
Hebronic response: "She could stand to lose a few pounds."

Question: "Would you like to go riding with us?"
English answer: "Just say when."
Hebronic response: "Riding, shmiding! Do I look like a cowboy?"

To the guest of honor at a birthday party:
English answer: "Happy birthday."
Hebronic response: "A year smarter you should become."

Remark: "A beautiful day."
English answer: "Sure is."
Hebronic response: "So the sun is out; what else is new?"

Answering a phone call from a son:
English answer: "It's been a while since you called."
Hebronic response: "You didn't wonder if I'm dead already?"

What to do in an emergency situation...

2007-04-26T12:35:00.000-05:00

Because of recent abductions

in daylight hours,refresh yourself

of these things to do

in an emergency situation...

This is for you,

and for you to share

with your wife,

your children,

everyone you know.

After reading these 9 crucial tips ,

forward them to someone you care about.

It never hurts to be careful

in this crazy world we live in.

1 Tip from Tae Kwon Do :

The elbow

is the strongest point on your body.

If you are close enough to use it, do!

2. Learned this from a tourist guide

in New Orleans .

If a robber asks for your wallet and/or purse,

DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM .

Toss it away from you....

chances are that he is more interested

in your wallet and/or purse than you,

and he will go for the wallet/purse.

RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION!

3. If you are ever thrown

into the trunk of a car,

kick out the back tail lights

and stick your arm out the hole

and start waving like crazy.

The driver won't see you,

but everybody else will.

This has saved lives.

4. Women have a tendency

to get into their cars after shopping,

eating, working, etc.,

and just sit (doing their cheque-book,

or making a list, etc.

DON'T DO THIS!

The predator will be watching you,

and this is the perfect opportunity

for him to get in on the passenger side,

put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go.

AS SOON AS YOU GET INTO YOUR CAR ,

LOCK THE DOORS AND LEAVE.

a. If someone is in the car with a gun

to your head

DO NOT DRIVE OFF,

repeat:

DO NOT DRIVE OFF!

Instead gun the engine

and speed into anything,

wrecking the car.

Your Air Bag will save you.

If the person is

in the back seat

they will get the worst of it .

As soon as the car crashes

bail out and run.

It is better than having them

find your body in a remote location.

5 A few notes about getting

into your car in a parking lot,

or parking garage:

A.) Be aware:

look around you, look into your car,

at the passenger side floor ,

and in the back seat

B.) If you are parked next to a big van,

enter your car from the passenger door .

Most serial killers attack their victims

by pulling them into their vans

while the women are attempting

to get into their cars.

C.) Look at the car

parked on the driver's side

of your vehicle, and the passenger side.

If a male is sitting alone

in the seat nearest your car,

you may want to walk back

into the mall, or work,

and get a guard/policeman

to walk you back out.

IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY.

(And better paranoid than dead..)

6. ALWAYS

take the elevator

instead of the stairs.

(Stairwells are horrible places

to be alone

and the perfect crime spot.

This is especially true at NIGHT!)

7. If the predator has a gun

and you are not under his control,

ALWAYS RUN!

The predator will only hit you

(a running target)

4 in 100 times;

And even then, it most likely

WILL NOT be a vital organ.

RUN, Preferably !

in a zig-zag pattern!

8. As women,

we are always trying

to be sympathetic:

STOP

It may get you raped, or killed.

Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking,

well educated man,

who ALWAYS played

on the sympathies

of unsuspecting women.

He walked with a cane,

or a limp, and often asked

"for help"

into his vehicle or with his vehicle,

which is when he abducted
his next victim.

************* Here it is *******

9. Another Safety Point:

Someone just told me

that her friend heard

a crying baby on her porch

the night before last,

and she called the police

because it was late

and she thought it was weird.

The police told her

"Whatever you do, DO NOT

open the door."

The lady then said that

it sounded like the baby

had crawled near a window,

and she was worried

that it would crawl

to the street and get run over.

The policeman said,

"We already have a unit on the way,

whatever you do,

DO NOT open the door."

He told her that they think

a serial killer has a baby's cry recorded

and uses it to coax women out of their homes

thinking that someone dropped off a baby

He said they have not verified it,

but have had several calls

by women saying that they hear baby's cries

outside their doors when they're home alone

at night.

Please pass this on and

DO NOT

open the door for a crying baby ----

This

e-mail should probably

be taken seriously because

the Crying Baby theory

was mentioned on

America's Most Wanted

this past Saturday

when they profiled

the serial killer in Louisiana .

Forward this to all the women and men you know.

It may save a life.

A candle is not dimmed by lighting another candle.

A Freilichin Kosheren Pesach

2007-03-30T10:52:00.000-05:00

Scandal brews over tea-for-urine switch

2007-03-22T10:50:00.000-05:00

I found this article and I am wondering how many of us have been vicimized already and how many people die around here from those causes...

Read on:

BEIJING (Reuters) - A group of Chinese reporters came up with a novel idea to test how greedy local hospitals were -- pass off tea as urine samples and submit the drink for tests.

The results: six out of 10 hospitals in Hangzhou, the capital of the rich coastal province of Zhejiang, visited by the reporters over a two-day period this month concluded that the patients' urinal tracts were infected.

Five of the hospitals prescribed medication costing up to 400 yuan ($50), the online edition of the semi-official China News Service (www.chinanews.com) said in a report seen on Wednesday. Of the hospitals, four were state-owned.

"It makes one shiver all over even though it's not cold," the China News Service said after its reporters and colleagues from Zhejiang Television tested the hospitals.

The Southern Metropolis Daily newspaper said in a commentary on Wednesday: "Healthy people are diagnosed with diseases. Small ailments are said to be serious problems. Patients have become automatic teller machines for the hospitals."

The failure of health reforms and rising costs of medical care have sparked social discontent and become flashpoints for unrest in the world's most populous nation, where millions cannot afford to consult doctors or buy medicine.

Health Minister Gao Qiang has accused greedy hospitals of charging excessive fees and prescribing unnecessary and expensive medication.

Market reforms in the past two decades have cut off state subsidies to many hospitals and left the health care system in need of life support.

State media have reported patients committing suicide because they cannot afford exorbitant medical costs.

Reuters

A Frielichen Purim

2007-03-01T15:00:00.000-05:00

Six Classic Affairs

2007-02-20T10:37:00.000-05:00

Six Classic Affairs

The 1st Affair:

A married man was having an affair with his secretary.

One day they went 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."

"You lying bastard!

You've been playing golf!"

------------------------------

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!"

------------------------------

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 to show you something you won't believe," he said to his wife, opening his briefcase.

"My God!" the wife exclaimed, "Schwartz is dead?!?!"

------------------------------

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, 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 Smith's bought one and I liked it so much 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 Smith's and nobody offered me a damned thing."

------------------------------

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 thought.

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, I know," she replied. "Now just rest and let the poison work."

Heart warming story that brings tears

2007-02-13T23:23:00.000-05:00

A Golden Heart, by Chaim Walder

Our wedding took place twenty years ago. The families of both of us did their utmost for our sakes. Each side gave what it could. We had a lovely wedding and our parents bought us a nice apartment. Life for us was a bed of roses.

Two weeks before the wedding, my chosson took me to his grandmother's -- a visit, he explained, was a tradition in the family.

As we sat on her porch, she handed me a beautifully wrapped box which contained a huge diamond ring. I didn't have to be a diamond expert in order to realize that this ring was very expensive. Everyone gasped, while Bubby Chava simply said: "This is my gift to you."

I soon learned that Bubby Chava gives each new kallah in the family a very expensive piece of jewelry so that the kallah will always remember her. Actually, Bubby Chava was so sweet and darling that no one could forget her. But a custom is a custom, and who was I to dispute itssignificance, especially when the ring cost $5000? Yes, that is what it cost. How do I know? You'll soon find out.

My father thought that it was unspeakable to go outside wearing such a ring when so many children in the country are starving. But he would have reacted the same way about a $200 ring, so that I really didn't take this to heart. Actually I also felt guilty about wearing such a ring. (In addition to the guilt pangs, the ring made me miserable in other ways too. But only a woman can understand that.)

It sounds petty to say this, but the ring was a bit big on me. Every woman knows how nerve wracking it is when a ring is too wide and there's space between the ring and her finger. It drives you bats, like a mouth sore, and you walk around all day feeling your finger to see if the ring's still there. And that's precisely what I did the entire wedding. I spent the entire night worrying about the ring and making sure that it hadn't fallen off. But because I also had a wedding ring, I had tworings to toy with for the same price -- actually not for the same price.

The wedding passed. The sheva brochos week was fantastic. Both families came for the entire Shabbos, and the Shabbos meals, with their zemiros and droshos were great.

Since we live in Netanya, after the morning meal we took a stroll on the boardwalk.

Seuda shlishis lasted until after dark. Then my new husband made havdoloh and, as is customary in our families, everyone threw pillows at him.

Shortly after havdoloh, my new shvigger asked:

"Where's the ring?"

I looked at my finger and, to my dismay, I didn't see any ring. I turned pale.

A mini-commotion erupted and my husband said: "I'll take a look in our room. Maybe you forgot it there." I was very tense and began to bite my fingernails. Something in my heart told me that he might not find it. After all, the ring was a bit toolarge for me and I hadn't fingered it for quite a while.

Then the dreaded moment arrived. My husband returned from the room in which we had stayed and said, "I can't find it." "Did you look in the closet?" I asked. "Yes." "In the drawers?" "Yes." To make a long story short, he had looked everywhere but hadn't found it.

At that point, there wasn't a soul in the family who didn't know that I had lost a $5000 ring, except for Bubby Chava who had gone home directly after havdoloh. (Now you know how I knew its price. When things are lost, you find out how much they are worth very quickly. This is true not only with respect to jewelry, but also with respect to people.)

My shvigger went up to my room with a number of nice aunts and, believe it or not, they began taking out every item in our suitcases, which davka looked messier than usual.

Quite soon I grasped that there were other things which interested them besides the ring.

After a search which took more than an hour, my aunts began to suggest where it might be. When I finally dared to hint that it was a bit big on me, one of them remonstrated: "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" "I did!!" I replied. Then the tension began to mount, without hope of its subsiding so quickly.

When we tried to recall where we had been that day, we concluded that ring had fallen off on the beach. But to search for it there was futile because, although the ring was big, Netanaya's beach is bigger.

It's hard to pinpoint the precise moment that the seeds of resentment began to sprout. But I recall that when we went downstairs to the car, everyone looked a bit sour. No one tried to console me or to say that I wasn't to blame. And I understood them. It really was an expensive ring, and they should be commended for not having shouted: "Dunce, are you a baby who loses things?" But even if they didn't yell, their facial expressions said it all.

My husband and I returned home crestfallen. Trying to joke, my husband said: "Great. Now the ceiling price for my losing things is $5000." He paid dearly for that joke, because I didn't see it as an attempt to dispel the tension but rather as an attempt to needle me. And so I let out all the anger I felt against myself, on him. He apologized and apologized, but to no avail. I was very hurt by both the loss of the ring and the accusations hurled against me.

My husband behaved like a tzaddik. He consoled me and explained: "You're not to blame. The person who insisted that you wear the ring even though it was too big is at fault." But he basically blamed himself. He was so sympathetic too, that by the end of the evening I concluded that if this had been a nisoyon, he had passed it with flying colors.

Okay. He passed the test. But his family didn't. Every time we visited his family, the incident of the ring hovered in the air. Their sarcastic questions about how I felt about the loss mademe squirm. The cutting remark that Bubby, who probably realized what had happened and was suffering in silence, made my life intolerable. I don't blame them, but apparently when one loses an item worth more than a hundred shekel he pays a price which far exceeds that of the lost item. Along with the ring, I lost my new family's love and esteem. I felt disliked and loathsome. After all how can one like a person whothoughtlessly discards a $5000 ring. What is she, a baby? Couldn't she have been a bit more careful? The ring wasn't that heavy! Generally, these feelings weren't stated outright, but were only hinted at. Yet strangely, whenever I tried to explain myself, the criticismagainst me increased.

At first they would cluck there teeth: Too bad it happened. It's so annoying. Then the inevitable, "Pray tell, if the ring was so big on you, why did you wear it?" would ensue.

The beginning of my marriage was very gloomy. I felt that I could never regain my former esteem. The loss of the $5000 ring seemed to brand me as irresponsible and unreliable, as well as a pain-in-the-neck.

The situation reached a peak when we bought an expensive vase and one of my brothers-in-law told my husband: "You'd better carry it, you know." He said that in front of everyone.

Well, all I can say is that I exploded and screamed that I wouldn't set foot in that house again, and that they were spilling my blood. Then the fighting period, during which my poor husband tried to bring about a reconciliation between them and me, began. He didn't actually include me in these efforts, but I understood that he had argued with his brothers, telling them that if they continued to pick on me, he would sever all ties with the family.

Actually, we did sever the ties for about a week-and-a- half. But Bubby Chava intervened, and in that manner confirmed that she indeed knew the entire story.

Then came the appeasement, which was very unpleasant. My shvigger apologized and explained that of all her daughters-in-law, she loved me best. I in turn made a number of gooey statements such as: "I always felt that you loved me." But the whole affair had tired me out.

Peace supposedly prevailed but it was a chilly peace. I felt crushed and sensed that they would never love me and never appreciate me, and would surely never entrust me with an item worth more than fifty shekels. The turnabout came four months later.

We had gotten married two days after Shavuos. At the wedding and during sheva brochos week, my husband wore a frock. He also wears one on yomim tovim. It was nearly Rosh Hashonoh. My husband took his frock out of the closet, put it on, and asked me if it still fit, or whether he had gained weight. I told him that he looked pretty thin.

Suddenly he thrust his hand into the pocket of his frock -- and what do you think he fished out? My ring, of course. We stared at the ring for a number of moments without saying a word. Then he said:

"I'm in a state of shock. Apparently I placed the ring in my frock." We sat opposite each other for a while, and then I burst into tears, releasing all of my pent-up emotions.

He called his mother immediately and told her that he had found the ring.

Shortly afterwards, everyone came over: his parents and his brothers, who examined the ring, and then Bubby and Zeidy who were overjoyed that the ring had been found. All heaved sighs of relief and asked me to forgive them for the pain they had caused me.

Then all wondered why, in the first place, they hadn't thought that it was in the pocket of my husband, who was known to be forgetful andunreliable. My husband was a bit offended but the excitement over having found the ring braced him. I guess insults flung at you when a $5000 ring is in the palm of your hand aren't as devastating as those flung when you aren't holding such a condolence prize.

From then on, I was the family's queen. All realized that they had erred and that I was a responsible person who never loses a thing. Poor lady. But what can she do if she was destined to marry a scatterbrain who happens to be our son/brother? It was so kind of her to have agreed to marry such a fellow." I was in seventh heaven. Suddenly tons of love and attention landed on my head. Even though my husband was slightly offended by the insults, he was still glad for me. In addition, he gained a happy wife, peace of mind and everlasting shalom bayis.

But the story doesn't end here.

From that day on, I bore my husband a slight grudge for having caused me so much anguish during the first few months of my marriage. Funny, but during the early months when everyone thought that I was to blame for the loss of the ring, he never used the incident as ammunition against me, and never needled me about it. But once the ring was found and he was considered the irresponsible one, I would use that point as a springboard to needle him whenever I could. If we had money, I would tell him that I preferred to hold onto it myself, lest he lose it. When a package or a document had to bedelivered, I would say: "Let someone else take it, so that it won't get lost in the sandbox." Soon the phrase "in the sandbox" became an idiom I would use in order to hint that he was unreliable.

Many people take advantage of the foibles of those dearest to them in order to ridicule them. This is a form of hono'as devorim which is forbidden. But that is precisely what I did.

My husband suffered in silence and didn't complain. There were times when I saw his pained _expression when I spoke that way and I would feel sorry and placate him. But beyond the pained _expression, he never complained. Actually, we were very happy and our life proceeded smoothly. We had seven adorable children who loved their parents.

They too knew the story about the ring which all thought that Ima had lost on the beach and which absentminded Abba had actually forgotten in his frock. Who told them? You guessed it. Little old me!

Fifteen years passed. I still wore the ring to important simchas and received many compliments for it.

One day, though, I decided to exchange the ring for some other pieces of jewelry, in order to surprise my husband. I asked my shvigger where Bubby Chava bought her jewelry and she replied: "At Yankel Cohen's. He's a fine jeweler."

One afternoon, I went to Mr. Cohen's store and showed him the ring. "My husband's grandmother bought this here," I told him "and I want you to evaluate it for me."

"Wow," he shrieked after examining it. "It's gorgeous, and is worth a lot of money -- more than $6000. I don't mind exchanging it for whatever you want. But I just want you to know that she didn't buy it here."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked in surprise. Then I told him her name and said that she always buys her jewelry from him. "True," he replied. "She always buys her jewelry here. But I never sold such a ring in my life. Apparently she bought it somewhere else."

I thought a bit and then figured that since the ring might be worth more than $6000, I should really check with my husband before exchanging it. When I came home, I rummaged through my jewelry box for the ring's receipt. When I found it, I learned that it really hadn't been bought in Mr. Cohen's jewelry store, but at a very exclusive and famous jeweler in town. It had indeed cost $5000, and its price had apparently risen over the years.

But then an additional detail, which I might have ignored under normal conditions, caught my eye. I waited until my husband returned home from kollel, my heart beating like a sledgehammer all along. When he arrived, I told him that I had wanted to exchange the ring for some other pieces of jewelry, and that I had spoken with Mr. Cohen who said it was worth $6000.

"Great," my husband replied. "We made a thousand dollars."

"Yes, but Mr. Cohen said that Bubby bought the ring somewhere else," I demurred.

"Could be," he said.

"Do you mean to say that Bubby Chava might have bought my gift somewhere else?"

"What's the problem?" he asked.

"I'll tell you what's bothering me," I said as tears streamed down my cheeks.

"For fifteen years I didn't realize what a good-hearted and wonderful husband you are -- one I don't deserve. You pulled that one over in the most amazing manner possible. I lost my ring, and you quietly took a loan and bought me a new one. No, don't try to hide it. You did that in the most elegant and polished manner possible. You found exactly the same ring for the same price. But you forgot one thing: to hide the purchase date." Then I showed him the receipt with the purchase date -- the 14th of Elul. "Maybe you've forgotten, but I still remember that we were married on the 9th of Sivan. Bubby Chava gave me the ring before the wedding, so that this ring was bought four months after I got the original one. The date gave you away," I protested -- and then burst into bitter tears.

It is difficult to describe the thoughts that raced through my mind at that time. Imagine that! A young man takes on a $5000 debt so that his family would believe that he is to blame for the loss of a ring, and not his wife. What a gift!

I knew that I was the only woman in the world who had received such a present. I am not referring to the ring, but to the fifteen years during which the blame was shifted from me to him. Until today, I shudder when I recall how I kicked him in what I thought was his Achilles Heel, but which was really the area in which he so excelled. That evening he told me what he had gone through in order to pay back that debt. He then explained that he couldn't have eliminated theresentment between me and his family, unless they thought that I wasn't to blame. "They're good people," he said. "But good people also have weaknesses. What could I do? That was their weakness."

It took him years to repay that debt, and I had made things worse for him by my digs. But even those digs reminded him of what he had gained: a happy wife, peace of mind and sholom bayis.

I am telling this story because I want to share the lesson I learned with everyone.

The lesson is: never remind a person of his weakness, and surely don't make it the subject of your digs. But most important: clear your hearts of all resentment and preconceived notions, because even if you don't badger a person who erred, your anger at him will find ways to project itself. Nothing is worth the anguish and pain we suffered over the loss of the ring.

Gold and diamonds come and go, and sometimes even get lost in sandboxes. So be it, as long as human beings aren't hurt as a result. Learn from my husband too. For fifteen years he agreed to be blamed for a blunder he hadn't committed, so that his wife would be happy. In that way he is like Rabbi Akiva who said:

"A person should throw himself into a fiery furnace if only not to see the disgrace of his fellow." This seems like a story about a diamond ring, but it is really a story about a golden heart.

Actual personal ads from israeli newspapers

2007-02-13T17:38:00.000-05:00

Shmuel Gabbai, 36.
I take out the Torah Saturday morning.
Would like to take you out Saturday night.
Please write POB 81.

Couch potato latke in search
of the right applesauce.
Let's try it for 8 days.
Who knows?
POB 43

Divorced Jewish man seeks partner to attend shul
light shabbos candles,
celebrate holidays,
build Sukkah together,
attend brisses, bar mitzvahs -
Religion not important.
POB 658

Orthodox woman with get, seeks man who got get
or can get get.
Get it?
I'll show you mine
if you show me yours.
POB 72.

Sincere rabbinical student, 27, enjoys Yom Kippur,
Tisha B'av, Taanis Esther, Tzom Gedalia,
Asarah B'Teves, Shiva Asar b'Tammuz.
Seeks companion for living life in the "fast" lane.
POB 90.

Yeshiva bochur, Torah scholar, long beard, payos.
Seeks same in woman.
POB 43.

Nice Jewish guy, 38.
No skeletons.
No baggage.
No personality.
POB 76

Female graduate student,
studying kaballah, Zohar,
exorcism of dybbuks,
seeks mensch.
No weirdos, please.
POB 56.

Jewish businessman, 49, manufactures Sabbath
candles, Chanukah candles, havdallah candles,
Yahrzeit candles. Seeks non-smoker.
POB 787.

I am a sensitive Jewish prince whom you can open
your heart to, share your innermost thoughts
and deepest secrets. Confide in me. I'll understand
your insecurities. No fatties, please
POB 86.

Jewish male, 34, very successful, smart,
independent, self-made, looking for girl
whose father will hire me.
POB 22.

Gates vs GM

2007-01-31T23:27:00.000-05:00

Gates vs GM

For all of us who feel only the deepest love and affection for the way computers have enhanced our lives, read on.

At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated,

"If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon."

In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release stating:

If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics (and I just love this part):

1. For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash........ Twice a day.

2. Every time they repainted the lines in the road, you would have to buy a new car.

3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you could continue. For some reason you would simply accept this.

4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down an refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.

5. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable,

five times as fast and twice as easy to drive - but would run on only five percent of the roads.

6. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single "This Car Has Performed An Illegal Operation" warning light.

7. The airbag system would ask "Are you sure?" before deploying.

This next one is the best!

8. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.

9. Every time a new car was introduced car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.

10. You'd have to press the "Start" button to turn the engine off.

Caller ID

2007-01-29T21:01:00.000-05:00

On a Saturday night several weeks ago, this pastor was working late, and decided to call his wife before he left for home. It was about10:00 PM, but his wife didn't answer the phone.

The pastor let the phone ring many times. He thought it was odd that she didn't answer, but decided to wrap up a few things and try again in a few minutes. When he tried again she answered right away. He asked her why she hadn't answered before, and she said that it hadn't rung at their house. They brushed it off as a fluke and went on their merry ways.

The following Monday, the pastor received a call at the church office, which was the phone that he'd used that Saturday night. The man that he spoke with wanted to know why he'd called on Saturday night.

The pastor couldn't figure out what the man was talking about. Then the man said, "It rang and rang, but I didn't answer." The pastor remembered the mishap and apologized for disturbing him, explaining that he'd intended to call his wife.

The man said, "That's, OK. Let me tell you my story.

You see, I was planning to commit suicide on Saturday night, but before I did, I prayed, 'God if you're there, and you don't want me to do this, give me a sign now.' At that point my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID, and it said, 'Almighty God'. I was afraid to answer!"

The reason why it showed on the man's caller ID that the call came from "Almighty God" is because the church that the pastor attends is called Almighty God Tabernacle!!

If you believe that God answers prayers then pass this on. God bless!

READ EACH SENTENCE SLOWLY AND THINK ABOUT IT.

Love starts with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a tear.

Don't cry over anyone who won't cry over you.

Good friends are hard to find, harder to leave, and impossible to forget.

Don't let the past hold you back, you're missing the good stuff.

BEST FRIENDS are the siblings God forgot to give us.

When it hurts to look back, and you're scared to look ahead, you can look beside you and your BEST FRIEND will be there.

Nobody is perfect until you fall in love with them.

Send this on to everyone special in your life, even the people who really make you mad sometimes and to the people whose lives you want to be in!!!

And send it back to the person who sent it to you if they mean something to you!! Remember, every minute spent angry is sixty seconds of happiness wasted.

Do not break this, please. There is no cost, but lots of rewards....

Oh Little Ralphy

2007-01-22T13:56:00.000-05:00

LITTLE RALPHY ON MATH

A teacher asks her class, "If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and you shoot one of them, how many will be left?" She calls on little Ralphy.

He replies, "None, they will all fly away with the first gunshot."

The teacher replies, "The correct answer is 4, but I like your thinking."

Then little RALPHY says, "I have a question for YOU.

There are 3 women sitting on a bench having ice cream:
One is delicately licking the sides of the triple scoop of ice cream.
The second is gobbling down the top and sucking the cone.
The third is biting off the top of the ice cream.
Which one is married?"

The teacher, blushing a great deal, replied, "Well, I suppose the one that's gobbled down the top and sucked the cone."

To which Little RALPHY replied, "The correct answer is 'the one with the wedding ring on," but I like your thinking."

LITTLE RALPHY ON MATH (Part 2)

Little RALPHY returns from school and says he got an F in arithmetic.

"Why?" asks the father?
"The teacher asked 'How much is 2x3,'" I said "6", replies RALPHY.
"But that's right!" says his dad.
"Yeah, but then she asked me "How much is 3x2?'"
"What's the fucking difference?" asks the father.
"That's what I said!"

LITTLE RALPHY ON ENGLISH

Little RALPHY goes to school, and the teacher says, "Today we are going to learn multi-syllable words, class. Does anybody have an example of a multi-syllable word?"

RALPHY says "Mas-tur-bate."

Miss Rogers smiles and says, "Wow, little RALPHY, that's a mouthful."

Little RALPHY says, "No, Miss Rogers, you're thinking of a blowjob."

LITTLE RALPHY ON GRAMMAR

Little RALPHY was sitting in class one day.

All of a sudden, he needed to go to the bathroom.

He yelled out, "Miss Jones, I need to take a piss!!"

The teacher replied, 'Now, RALPHY, that is NOT the proper word to use in this situation.

The correct word you want to use is 'urinate.'

Please use the word 'ur-i-nate' in a sentence correctly, and I will allow you to go."

Little RALPHY, thinks for a bit, and then says, "You're an eight, but if you had bigger tits, you'd be a TEN!"

LITTLE RALPHY ON GRAMMAR (Part 2)

One day, during lessons on proper grammar, the teacher asked for a show of hands from those who could use the word "beautiful" in the same sentence twice.

First, she called on little Suzie, who responded with, "My father bought my mother a beautiful dress and she looked beautiful in it."

"Very good, Suzie," replied the teacher. She then called on little Michael.

"My mommy planned a beautiful banquet and it turned out beautifully."

She said, "Excellent, Michael!" Then the teacher reluctantly called on little RALPHY.

"Last night at the dinner table, my sister told my father that she was pregnant, and he said 'Beautiful, just fucking beautiful!'"

LITTLE RALPHY ON GETTING OLDER

Little RALPHY was sitting on a park bench munching on one candy bar after another.

After the 6th one a man on the bench across from him said, "Son, you know eating all that candy isn't good for you. It will give you acne, rot your teeth, and make you fat."

Little RALPHY replied, "My grandfather lived to be 107 years old."

The man asked, "Did your grandfather eat 6 candy bars at a time?"

Little RALPHY answered, "No, he minded his own fucking business.

Kosher Sheets

2007-01-21T00:58:00.001-05:00

Question of the Week:

2007-01-07T22:12:00.000-05:00

Dear Rabbi,

Why does the Jewish religion seem to obsess over insignificant details? How much matza do we have to eat, which spoon did I use for milk and which for meat, what is the right way to tie my shoelaces? It seems to me that this misses the bigger picture by focusing on minutiae. Is this
nitpicking what Jews call spirituality?

(I actually already sent you this question over a week ago and didn't receive a reply. Could it be that you have finally been asked a question that you can't answer?!)

Rob

Answer:

Dear Rob,

I never claimed to have all the answers. There are many questions that are beyond me. But it happens to be that I did answer your question, and you did get the answer. I sent a reply immediately. The fact that you didn't receive it is itself the answer to your question.

You see, I sent you a reply, but I wrote your email address leaving out the "dot" before the"com". I figured that you should still receive the email, because after all, it is only one little dot missing. I mean come on, it's not as if I wrote the wrong name or something drastic like that! Would anyone be son it picky as to differentiate between "yahoocom" and " yahoo.com"? Isn't it a bit ridiculous that you didn't get my email just because of a little dot?

No, it's not ridiculous. Because the dot is not just a dot. It represents something. That dot has meaning far beyond the pixels on the screen that form it. To me it may seem insignificant, but that is simply due to my ignorance of the ways of the web. All I know is that with the dot, the message gets to the right destination; without it, the message is lost to oblivion.

Jewish practices have infinite depth. Each nuance and detail contains a world of symbolism. And every dot counts. When they are performed with precision, a spiritual vibration is emailed throughout the universe, all the way to G-d's inbox.

If you want to understand the symbolism of the dot, study I.T.
If you want to understand the symbolism of Judaism, study it.

All the best,
Rabbi B.

How do you know if you're in love, lust, or marriage?

2007-01-01T00:19:00.000-05:00

LOVE - when your eyes meet across a crowded room.
LUST - when your tongues meet across a crowded room.
MARRIAGE - when your belt won't meet around your waist, and you don't care.

LOVE - when intercourse is called making love.
LUST - all other times.
MARRIAGE - what's intercourse?

LOVE - when you argue over how many children to have.
LUST - when you argue over who gets the wet spot.
MARRIAGE - when you argue over money.

LOVE - when you share everything you own.
LUST - when you think twice about giving your partner bus money.
MARRIAGE - when the bank owns everything.

LOVE - when it doesn't matter if you don't climax.
LUST - when the relationship is over if you don't climax.
MARRIAGE - what's a climax?

LOVE - when you phone each other just to say "Gidday".
LUST - when you phone each other just to organize sex.
MARRIAGE - when you phone each other to find out what time your son's game starts.

LOVE - when you write poems about your partner.
LUST - when all you write is your phone number.
MARRIAGE - when all you write is cheques.

LOVE - when you show concern for your partners' feelings.
LUST - when you couldn't give a shit.
MARRIAGE - when your only concern is what's on TV.

LOVE - when your farewell is "I love you darling ...".
LUST - when your farewell is "So, same time next week?".
MARRIAGE - when your farewell is silent.

LOVE - when you are proud to be seen in public with your partner.
LUST - when you only ever see each other in the bedroom.
MARRIAGE - when you never see each other awake.

LOVE - when your heart flutters everytime you see them.
LUST - when your groin twitches everytime you see them.
MARRIAGE - when your wallet empties everytime you see them.

LOVE - when nobody else matters.
LUST - when nobody else knows.
MARRIAGE - when everybody else matters and you don't care who knows.

LOVE - when all the songs on the radio describe exactly how you feel.
LUST - when it's just the same mushy old shit.
MARRIAGE - when you never listen to music.

LOVE - when breaking up is something you try not to think about.
LUST - when staying together is something you try not to think about.
MARRIAGE - when just getting through today is your only thought.

LOVE - when you're interested in everything your partner does.
LUST - when you're only interested in one thing.
MARRIAGE - when you're not interested in what your partner does and the one thing you're interested in is your golf score.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

2007-01-01T00:02:00.000-05:00

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY

2006-12-27T13:22:00.000-05:00

Good: Your wife is pregnant.
Bad: It's triplets.
Ugly: You had a vasectomy five years ago.

Good: Your wife's not talking to you
Bad: She wants a divorce.
Ugly: She's a lawyer.

Good: Your son is finally maturing.
Bad: He's involved with the women next door.
Ugly: So are you.

Good: Your son studies a lot in his room.
Bad: You find several porn movies hidden there.
Ugly: You're in them.

Good: Your hubby and you agree, no more kids.
Bad: You can't find your birth control pills.
Ugly: Your daughter borrowed them.

Good: Your husband understands fashion.
Bad: He's a cross-dresser.
Ugly: He looks better than you.

Good: You just gave "the birds and the bees" talk to your daughter.
Bad: She keeps interrupting.
Ugly: With corrections

Good: Your son is dating someone new.
Bad: It's another man.
Ugly: He's your best friend.

Good: Your daughter got a new job.
Bad: As a hooker.
Ugly: Your co-workers are her best clients.
Way ugly: She makes more money than you do.

The Night Before Christmas in Brooklyn

2006-12-26T15:03:00.001-05:00

'Twas the night before Christmas,
Da whole house was mella,
Not a creature was strirrin',
Cuz I had a gun unda da pilla.

When up on da roof
I heard somethin' pound,
I sprung to da window,
To scream, "YO! Keep it down!"

When what to my
Wanderin' eyes should appear,
But da Don of all elfs,
And eight friggin' reindeer!

Wit' slicked back black hair,
And a silk red suit,
Don Christopher wuz here,
And he brought da loot!

Wit' a slap to dare snouts
And a yank on dare manes,
He cursed and he shouted
And he called dem by name

"Yo Tony, Yo Frankie,
Yo Vinny, Yo Vito,
Ay Joey, Ay Paulie,
Ay Pepe, Ay Guido!"

As I drew out my gun
And hid by da bed,
He flew troo da winda
And slapped me 'side da head.

"What da hell you doin'
Pullin' a gun on da Don?
Now all you're gettin' is coal,
You friggin' moron!"

Den pointin' a fat finga
Right unda my nose,
He twisted his pinky ring,
And up da chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh,
Obscenities screamin',
Away dey all flew,
Before he troo dem a beatin'.

Den I heard him yell out,
What I did least expect,
"Merry Friggin' Christmas to all,
And yous better show some respect!"

Yes, it happened - It is me...

2006-12-24T19:25:00.000-05:00

Oh... my... gosh...

Here is my Chanukah story. I have been very busy running around this past week as it was right before the holiday (Christmas) season plus every night another Chanukah party and it got me really exhausted so I decided to take a break on Shabbos and relax a little. But here comes a familiar face walking over to me and we start chatting a little about blogging, I knew that she had been reading some blogs but did not know she had a blog and neither did she know that I have my blog. So we chatted for a few minutes when she asked a question which shocked me... ARE YOU "A HEIMSHE" on Blogger? my response first was, no it's not me but I am very bad with faking so I said you got me.. we have met again during shabbos and as I was I could see she was shocked as much as I was but I have decided whatever happened, happened and I am not going to change a thing.. I will be blogging as I did the days before and if she does not like it then there is a comment area where she can comment on my right/wrong doings..

Here is the familiar face I would have not wanted to come across Shy-shygirl.blogspot.com but I guess it's meant to be. All I can say about "Shy" she's a sweet lady and she is a very well liked person by her friends and family, well respected and that's the way she will always be.

"Shy, you can read and post on my blog and I won't stop you. You were concerned that I might be afraid to post, now that someone who knows me is watching my post. I will tell you that much, you can read my posts and if you disagree with me there is the comment area where you can go ahead and leave your comments about your disagreement (keep in mind that me being the poster I have the option to delete your comment, kidding). I am not the "farfrimte" Chassidishe yingerman that I should be afraid someone to know my inner feelings or anything that I say or do on blogs or anywhere around. But I will not go and publicize who I am so all my friends and family members should come check out all I got to say."

Here is what I have to say to all of you out there reading this, When you're blogging keep in mind that someone might be watching you. All it took is one post for "Shy"to figure out who I am and the same could happen to anyone, you might not even know they're blogging at all.

Farting lady commercial

2006-12-24T18:18:00.000-05:00

Be happy & enjoy life while you still can..

2006-12-24T17:30:00.000-05:00

Everyone says, "How the time flies." The days go by and they are years, and the years finally become our whole life. Each daily portion can be wasted, or it can be a pleasure, before it is gone forever. If a bedtime review of the day concludes that we were too stressed, too busy, didn't accomplish anything, didn't have any fun, then it has been another lost piece of precious life.

Perhaps we are putting off our enjoyment until we have more time, or money, or some other improved condition. The trouble with that is that it might never happen, or it may be too long in coming. It's so important to accept this time, this very minute, as something of tremendous value that will very soon be gone forever. There are many ways to ensure that we make the best of our time here on earth.

In our daily routine let's include time to enjoy others and thus ourselves. Look and wonder at the trees, fields and mountains, smell the flowers, hear the birds, and watch the clouds in the sky.

Face your problems bravely, confidently, and improve on your situation, no matter what state it be in. Be good to feel good. Be active and improve your mind. Laugh, relax, and sleep well.

Life is mostly froth and bubble;
Two things stand like stone:
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in our own. - Adam Gordon (1833-1870)

Hiya People, Merry Christmas!

2006-12-23T20:38:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas! I know I can get attacked for actually saying “Merry Christmas” because I am Jewish my self, but…Merry Christmas! Speaking of, when did we all get so damn sensitive? I guarantee the idiot who decided that we are not allowed to wish someone “Merry Christmas” celebrates Christmas himself (not working on Chirstmas). I promise you this: no one who celebrates Chanukah, Kwanzaa, or any other form of fake Christmas could give a poop if I wish someone a Merry Christmas. In fact, I bet they like it.

When did we get so damn sensitive? It has come to a point that I don’t mention other races, because I don’t know what title is politically correct this week.

When did we all get so damn sensitive? I don’t talk about politics, because I fear that I may say something that leans right, and people will assume that I am a jerk who supports killing Muslims.

When did we all get so damn sensitive? I can no longer open a door for a woman, because that would mean that I am a misogynist who thinks women can’t open a door on their own.

When did we all get so damn sensitive? Maybe it was when men started getting their hair cut at the same place their wife did. Yup, I think that’s it!

Well, I am going to make it my mission in the upcoming year to change this. I am going to start by wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

WISH YOU A VERY MERRY CHANUKAH...

2006-12-21T14:03:00.000-05:00

I got this email from a friend, I am sorry I don't understand a word but I fugured I will post it anyway. Maybe one of you can figure this one out!

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHANUKAH.. OY WHAT A SHOCK! SOMEBODY OUTSIDE WAS PICKING OUR LOCK!

AND THERE AT THE DOOR STOOD A ZAYDA IN BLUE AND HE WORE ON HIS KUPP A BLUE YARMULKA, TOO!

HIS PUNIM WAS SHAIN EVERYBODY WOULD LOVE IT! ROUND HIS NECK HUNG A CHAIN WITH A GOLD MOGEN DOVID!

HE WORE SILKEN TSITZES BENEATH HIS WOOL VEST, AND A SMALL FLAG OF ISRAEL WAS DRAPED ON HIS CHEST!

HE SAID: IM NO BURGLAR, SO PLEASE DONT BE NERVOUS. IM THE SPIRIT OF CHANUKAH, HERE AT YOUR SERVICE!"

"MENCHEN ALL CALL ME REB SHALOM SHAPIRO! WITHOUT ME, THIS YOM-TOV MIGHT NEED A NEW 'HERO!'"

"I VISIT ALL YIDLACH, AND BRING KINNAHORRA-GOOD FORTUNE AS BRIGHT AS A GLOWING MENORAH!"

"ICH SHLEPP LOTS OF BLESSINGS AND CHANUKAH GELT, AND JOYS THAT ARE TAKK THE BEST IN DER VELT!"

IF YOU KNOW NICE MENCHEN, ILL VISIT THEM QUICK, AND ILL BRING THEM GEZUNT AND A HOUSEFUL OF GLICK!

SO WE SENT HIM TO YOUR HOUSE, AND SHOOK HANDS AND PARTED. HE SHOUTED, SHALOM! OUT THE DOORWAY HE DARTED!

HE RAN TO A WAGON WITH HORSES AHEAD. HE FED THEM SOME BAGELS, AND HERE WHAT HE SAID:

LETS GO, MOISH AND MENDEL! MAKE QUICK, MOE AND YUSSLE! PLEASE GIVE A RUSH, MALKAH! HEY, HYMIE, PLEASE HUSTLE!

THEN THEY RACED LIKE THE WIND! AND THEY GALLOPED SO SHNELL, ALL HIS CLOTHING BLEW OFF, AND HIS GATKES AS WELL!

SOON HE WAS SO KALT HIS TUSHIE TURNED BLUISH! HE MOANED AND HE HOLLERED IN ENGLISH AND JEWISH!

SO, DONT ACT EMBARRASSED, AND PLEASE DONT BE RUDE WHEN THAT FROSTBITTEN ZAYDA ARRIVES IN THE NUDE!

QUICK! WRAP HIM IN BLANKETS! DONT BEAT ROUND THE BUSH! AND TIE A HOT WATER BAG ON HIS COLD TUSH!

QUICK! FEED HIM SOME CHICKEN SOUP HEISS AS CAN BE! AND GIVE HIM SOME SHNAPPS AND A GLEZL HOT TEA!

CAUSE HE BRINGS YOU A HOUSEFUL OF CHANUKAH WISHES AS WARM AND GESHMOCK AS A PLATE OF HOT KNISHES!

AND HE BRINGS THEM FROM OUR HOUSE SO FRIENDLY AND BRIGHT, SO YOUR HOUSE WILL KEEP GLOWING WITH CHANUKAH LIGHT.

PLUS JOY SWEET AS TSUKKER, AND PEACE AND GOOD-CHEER AND EVERYTHING FRAYLACH EACH DAY OF THE YEAR!

AND NONE IN YOUR FAMIY WILL BE A SHLEMAZEL, FOR LIFE WILL BRING EACH OF YOU SIMCHAS AND MAZEL!

AND ALL THROUGH THE FUTURE YOUR HOPES WILL COME TRUE, AND HIMMEL WIL BLESS YOUR MISHPOCHA AND YOU!!!

WE WISH YOU A VERY MERRY CHANUKAH...

Have any presents you want to trade? ;)

2006-12-21T01:56:00.000-05:00

I remember when I was a kid I used to get lot's of those metal cars and I always loved playing with them, I never had enough I didn't have the large selection of cars I wanted to have I have always wanted to go back to my younger years and play with cars. now that I grew up (at least I think so) I still love to play with cars but now it's the bigger cars.

Anyway, I am looking to buy little toy cars for my son who loves to play with cars too and I would like to buy him a large selection of cars, Motorcycles , trucks, and trailers. Does anyone know of a good place when I can get them, either online or in store. I looked around but all I see is those cheap plastic cars.

Thanks for any tips you can share.

It's the fifth night of Chanukah lot's of presents...

2006-12-19T23:20:00.000-05:00

Every night with another Chanukah party, everyone is busy giving out presents getting presents... it's fun to be together with the family but the presents just drive me nuts, who needs all those junks anyway. I'ts Chanukah and it's time to give presents but where does the present giving come from anyway, who decided Chanukah is a time for presents, maybe it's Chrismas time? I was wondering about this so I found this article Giving Gifts? at Aish.com, go ahead and read it...

A few years ago the religion editor of a metropolitan newspaper called me to discuss a piece she was working on about the upcoming holiday season. She wanted to know if I could provide her with a different "take" on Chanukah than she was used to hearing.

"And what is it you're used to hearing?" I asked.

"Well, you know," she said, "that Chanukah celebrates the struggle for national self-determination. Or that it's a time of giving, like Christmas and Kwanzaa, only in a Jewish sort of way."

Let's make one thing clear:

There is nothing bad about presents per se. It's just that they don't have any particular significance on Chanukah. In fact, if no one gives or receives even one present on Chanukah, they have not omitted anything central to the holiday.

CULTURALLY OVERWHELMED

Everybody I know, including my own kids, wants to strangle me after reading this. To set the record straight: Yes, I got Chanukah presents when I was a child. And yes, my wife I and give our children a few gifts on Chanukah. Having said that...

The reason we give presents on Chanukah is because Chanukah just happens to arrive around the same time as Santa. Our Jewish holiday has become culturally overwhelmed by society's obsession with Christmas presents.

There is great historical irony in the fact that Chanukah has been so dramatically impacted by a non-Jewish religion and culture. The Jewish people fought to resist one culture and have celebrated that resistance for over 2,000 years. Now we find ourselves adopting the customs of yet another culture to celebrate the victory of Chanukah.

I wonder what Judah Maccabee would say about that?

THE SOUL OF CHANUKAH

Chanukah is about two ever-present forces: darkness and light. It's about a struggle between two world shaping ideologies: Hellenism and Judaism. It's about the imperceptible human spark that enables people to reach far beyond their perceived limitations. It's about the power in a diminutive flame to banish an enormous darkness. It's about a tiny people overcoming the most daunting of foes.

Presents are wonderful - to give and to receive. But Chanukah is primarily not a season of giving but a season of growing. It is the opportunity to discover so much more - to acquire fresh insights into Jewish life and a bold new inspiration for living.

After all, what greater gift could there be?

Oh well, I guess we're celebrating Chrismas in the "Jewish way".

The Difference Between Christmas and Chanukah

2006-12-18T09:25:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year again when many Jews are put in the uncomfortable position of having to try and explain to their non-Jewish friend(s) :-), the difference between...Christmas and Chanukah.Here's one explanation. Now, if anyone asks you what the difference is between Christmas and Chanukah you will know what and how to answer!

1. Christmas is one day, same day every year, December 25. Jews also love December 25th. It's another paid day off work. We go to movies and out for Chinese food and Israeli dancing. Chanukah is 8 days. It starts the evening of the 24th of Kislev, whenever that falls. No one is ever sure. Jews never know until a non-Jewish friend asks when Chanukah starts, forcing us to consult a calendar so we don't look like idiots. We all have the same calendar, provided free ( with a donation ) from the World Jewish Congress, the kosher butcher, or the local Sinai Memorial Chapel (especially in Florida ) or other Jewish funeral home.

2. Christmas is a major holiday. Chanukah is a minor holiday with the same theme as most Jewish holidays : They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat.

3. Christians get wonderful presents such as jewelry, perfume, stereos... Jews get practical presents such as underwear, socks, or the collected works of the Rambam, which looks impressive on the bookshelf.

4. There is only one way to spell Christmas. No one can decide how to spell Chanukah, Chanukkah, Chanukka, Channukah, Hanukah, Hannukah, etc.

5. Christmas is a time of great pressure for husbands and boyfriends. Their partners expect special gifts. Jewish men are relieved of that burden. No one expects a diamond ring on Chanukah.

6. Christmas brings enormous electric bills. Candles are used for Chanukah. Not only are we spared enormous electric bills, but we get to feel good about not contributing to the energy crisis.

7. Christmas carols are beautiful...Silent Night, Come All Ye Faithful.... Chanukah songs are about dreidels made from clay or having a party and dancing the hora. Of course, we are secretly pleased that many of the beautiful carols were composed and written by our tribal brethren. And don't Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond sing them beautifully?

8. A home preparing for Christmas smells wonderful. The sweet smell of cookies and cakes baking. Happy people are gathered around in festive moods. A home preparing for Chanukah smells of oil, potatoes, and onions. The home, as always, is full of loud people all talking at once.

9. Christian women have fun baking Christmas cookies. Jewish women burn their eyes and cut their hands grating potatoes and onions for latkas on Chanukah. Another reminder of our suffering through the ages.

10. Parents deliver gifts to their children during Christmas. Jewish parents have no qualms about withholding a gift on any of the eight nights.

11. The players in the Christmas story have easy to pronounce names such as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. The players in the Chanukah story are Antiochus , Judah Maccabee, and Matta whatever. No one can spell it or pronounce it. On the plus side, we can tell our friends anything and they believe we are wonderfully versed in our history.

12. Many Christians believe in the virgin birth. Jews think, "Yossela, Bubela, snap out of it. Your woman is pregnant, you didn't sleep with her, and now you want to blame G-d? Here's the number of my shrink".

13. In recent years, Christmas has become more and more commercialized. The same holds true for Chanukah, even though it is a minor holiday. It makes sense. How could we market a major holiday such as Yom Kippur? Forget about celebrating. Think observing. Come to synagogue, starve yourself for 27 hours, become one with your dehydrated soul, beat your chest, confess your sins, a guaranteed good time for you and your family. Tickets a mere $200 per person. Better stick with Chanukah!

Hasidic Jews Reject Evil Text Messaging, Sprint Service

2006-12-17T13:14:00.000-05:00

I found this article and figured I must share it. Read for your self:

Plaintiffs: Yeshiva Yagdil Torah, a New York Corp. doing business as Vaad Harabbonim Letikshoreth

Defendants: Sprint Solutions Inc.; Sprint P.C.S.; Sprint Nextel Corp.; Sprint Communications Co.

Accusation: In 2005, a group of rabbis formed a council to find a way Hasidic Jews could use cell phones without getting exposed to soul-corrupting text messages and spam. They enlisted the help of Sprint Nextel in developing something called a Kosher Phone: a so-called "plain vanilla" voice phone that would preclude the very possibility of going online, and the attendant temptations. Of course, it didn't work.

One would think this could be easily accomplished by using older-model phones, but one would, apparently, be wrong. After a year of negotiations and $150,000 spent, Sprint acquiesced and issued a limited batch of phones with text-messaging functions blocked and SIM cards taken out. Then, horror: "Some users reported instances in which devices had the ability to send and receive text messages." The lawsuit charges that Sprint, somewhat understandably nervous about the commercial prospects of this retarded (in the very literal sense) technology, went behind the rabbis' back and switched the texting functions back on.

BONUS: The complaint doesn't waste its time before running afoul of Godwin's Law, in an extremely convoluted manner to boot. See if you can follow this: Vaad is saying that Sprint has said that Vaad was comparing Internet spam to the Holocaust. Vaad says it would never stoop to this kind of rhetoric. —Nick Divito

Read the lawsuit.

A Frielichen Chanukah

2006-12-16T20:24:00.001-05:00

Happy Chanukah to all.

Thanks for checking out my blog. I have decided to create this blog so I can talk about anything that comes on my mind like many of us in the heimishe world who have many things on our minds but can't talk about it with any of our local friends or family but we can share it with strangers.

I think this would be a good way to release some of the pressure that I have had on my mind lately. I would also encourage anyone and everyone to do the same.

In the same time I would like to invite everyone, feel free to post a reply on my blog on anything I post. But I would like to ask everyone that I am human being too and I do have feelings so please limit the criticism and use as much encouragement as possible and I am sure that everyone reading this blog will enjoy encouragement over criticism.

Like I said above I have create this for my own purposes but I wouldn't mind other people to enjoy them as well. I will do my best to make sure you all enjoy reading it.

Please come back to visit my blog as I would be blogging quite often at least that is my goal.

If you have any suggestions/comments that you would like to tell me about feel free to email me.

A Heimishe