Holy smokes, one I could tell Mom. Wow.

All across the kingdom, the news travelled quickly that the Queen’s bell-ringer, who faithfully served the royal family for decades, had passed. The Queen made the royal decree that she was looking for someone to come and take his place.

The next day, a humble peasant was first in the long line of applicants for the job. “My Queen,” he entreated her, “since I was a youth, I have always wanted to serve our kingdom and the royal family in this way. Let me be your bell-ringer, and I will serve in earnest all the days of my life.”

The Queen appreciated the peasant’s words, but was puzzled. “My humble servant, I have but one question: how can you serve the kingdom as the royal bell-ringer? You don’t have any arms!”

The peasant smiled and said simply, “Take me to the tower and I will show you.”

The Queen, her entourage, and the peasant climbed the steps of the bell tower until they reached the top. The peasant looked over his shoulder at the queen, “Behold!” And with that, the peasant ran to the far side of the room, spun around and ran directly at the bell. Faster and faster he ran then leapt, flew through the air, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Stunned, the Queen hesitated. But, when she heard the bell peal as never before, she told the peasant, “the position is yours.”

Weeks went by as the peasant served faithfully and punctually, and always in the same way: he would run across the room, spin around, charge directly at the bell, leap, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Until, that is, one fateful morning when the peasant woke up late. Certain he could still make it in time, he ran from his common home, tore across the kingdom, scrambled up the tower, across the room, spun, leapt and…missed the bell entirely! He instead flew across the room, out the nearby window and plummeted a thousand feet to his death.

Having heard the commotion, the castle guards ran upstairs to find the empty room. They looked out the window to find a crowd gathering around the peasant’s body. The one guard looks at each other and says, “My God–that poor man! Have you any idea who he is?”

The other:

(wait for it!)

“I don’t know, but his face rings a bell.”

—

All across the kingdom, the news travelled quickly that the Queen’s bell-ringer, who faithfully served the royal family for decades, had passed. The Queen made the royal decree that she was looking for someone to come and take his place.

The next day, a humble peasant was first in the long line of applicants for the job. “My Queen,” he entreated her, “since I was a youth, I have always wanted to serve our kingdom and the royal family in this way. Let me be your bell-ringer, and I will serve in earnest all the days of my life.”

The Queen appreciated the peasant’s words, but was puzzled. “My humble servant, I have but one question: how can you serve the kingdom as the royal bell-ringer? You don’t have any arms!”

The peasant smiled and said simply, “Take me to the tower and I will show you.”

The Queen, her entourage, and the peasant climbed the steps of the bell tower until they reached the top. The peasant looked over his shoulder at the queen, “Behold!” And with that, the peasant ran to the far side of the room, spun around and ran directly at the bell. Faster and faster he ran then leapt, flew through the air, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Stunned, the Queen hesitated. But, when she heard the bell peal as never before, she told the peasant, “the position is yours.”

Weeks went by as the peasant served faithfully and punctually, and always in the same way: he would run across the room, spin around, charge directly at the bell, leap, and–WHAM!–hit the bell full-force with his face.

Until, that is, one fateful morning when the peasant woke up late. Certain he could still make it in time, he ran from his common home, tore across the kingdom, scrambled up the tower, across the room, spun, leapt and…missed the bell entirely! He instead flew across the room, out the nearby window and plummeted a thousand feet to his death.

Having heard the commotion, the castle guards ran upstairs to find the empty room. They looked out the window to find a crowd gathering around the peasant’s body. The one guard looks at each other and says, “My God–that poor man! Have you any idea who he is?”

The other:

(wait for it!)

“I don’t know, but his face rings a bell.”

I just arrived in South Korea, and my colleague says that I can die if I sleep in a closed room with a fan on. He insists that “fan death” is an actual danger. What the hell?

“I’m told that every Korean believes that fan death is real,” Jeffery Hodges, a professor at Ewha Womans University in Seoul, tells AF. Read the full story at Esquire.

Sometimes a predator can strike fear deep into the hearts of prey.

There have been numerous and exciting advances in facial recognition technology. Now many consumer grade cameras have the ability to identify faces…hey…you aren’t even reading this are you?

Psycho Kitty is thinking about Time. Oh yes, it’s only a matter of time.

Ah yes, more shirts with a message. An important message. A compelling message.

A short graphical analogy of the the available desktop computer operating systems.

Actually there is one in there, I suspect this documents its genesis.

*** Love & Marriage ***

“When a man steals your wife there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.” Sacha Guitry.

“There is one thing I would break up over and that is if she caught me with another woman. I wouldn’t stand for that.” Steve Martin.

“Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.” Groucho Marx

“In married life three is company and two none.” Oscar Wilde

“It was a perfect marriage. She didn’t want to and he couldn’t.” Spike Milligan

“My advice to you is get married: if you find a good wife you’ll be happy; if not, you’ll become a philosopher.” Socrates.

“The General was essentially a man of peace, except of course in his domestic affairs.” Oscar Wilde

“Love is temporary insanity curable by marriage.” Ambrose Bierce

Read the rest at Wattpad.

Ah yes, another testicle injury. Why oh why do these idiots do things like this? Well for our entertainment I suspect.