Monday, 18 August 2008

An Irish Ghost Story

This story happened a while ago in Dublin, and even though it sounds like an Alfred Hitchcock tale, it's true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ John Bradford, a Dublin University student, was on the side of the road hitchhiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm.The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him. Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped.John , desperate for shelter and without thinking about it, got into the car and closed the door.... Only to realize there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn't on. The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a curve approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the curve, a hand appeared out of nowhere through the window, and turned the wheel. John , paralyzed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him.Shortly thereafter, John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength; he jumped out of the car and ran to it. Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had.A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realized he was crying... And wasn't drunk.

Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John , were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other.... 

Look Paddy....there's that fooking idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it!!!!'

Monday, 4 August 2008

Conjoined Twins, Abby & Brittany Hensel turn 16

I remember years ago seeing a feature of these girls when they were about 4 years old on 20/20 or 60 Minutes, or some show like that. This is just so interesting!


Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of shag carpet.
Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask "why me?" and get their answer when a little voice says, "because I love you best."
Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years or grade...
It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mom.

For all the times
you gently picked me up
when I fell down,
for all the times
you traded me
a warm smile for a frown,
for all the times
you tied my shoe
and tucked me into bed,
or needed something
for yourself
but put me first instead...
For everything we've shared -
the dreams, the laughter
and the tears...
I love you with
a special love
that deepens through
the years.