Author has written 3 stories for Final Fantasy X, Naruto, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and Jurassic Park. OBITUARY FOR THE LATE MR. COMMON SENSE: Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered for having cultivated such valuable lessons as: knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate, teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch, and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Calpol, sun lotion, or a band-aid to a student, but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents Truth and Trust, his wife Discretion, his daughter Responsibility, and his son Reason. He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing. We're a Dying Breed To every guy that's said, "Sex CAN wait.” To every guy that's said, "You're beautiful. To every guy that was never too busy to drive across town to see her. To every guy that gives flowers and a card when she is sick. To every guy who has given her flowers just because. To every guy that said he would die for her. To every guy that really would. To every guy that took time to do what she wanted to do. To every guy that she cried in front of. To every guy that holds hands with her. To every guy that kisses her with meaning. To every guy that hugs her when she's sad. To every guy that hugs her for no reason at all. To every guy who would give their jacket up for her. To every guy that calls to make sure she got home safe. To every guy that would sit and wait for her for hours just to see her for ten minutes. To every guy that would give his seat up. To every guy that just wants to cuddle. To every guy that reassured her that she was beautiful no matter what. To every guy who told his secrets to her. To every guy that tried to show how much he cared through every word and every breath. To every guy that thought maybe this could be the one. To every guy that believed in her dreams. To every guy that would have done anything so she could achieve them. To every guy that never laughed at her when she told him her dreams. To every guy that walked her to her car. To every guy that gave his heart. To every guy who prays that she is happy even if you are not with her. ...This one bulletin is for you... Not many girls appreciate nice guys anymore... And because of this, there are not many left out there... i guarantee 90 of the men on your page will not repost this cuz they care more about their image If you are a nice guy repost this with "We're a Dying Breed" Great minds can read this! This is weird, but interesting! If you can raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too. Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed erveylteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! Racism is wrong and can often times destroy people's self confidence. It's a horrible and cruel way to treat people. To prove that we are all alike, try this simple experiment: Hold your hand up to a light of some kind. You'll see a shadow cast nearby. Now, have someone of a different race hold their hand up too. You'll see, essentially, the same image. Five fingers and a palm. Skin color doesn't matter when you get right down to it. If you are against racism, copy this message into your profile. PLEASE READ. I was walking around in a Target store, when I saw a cashier hand this little boy some money back. The boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old. The cashier said, "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll." Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him: ''Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?'' The old lady replied: ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.'' Then she asked him to stay there for just 5 minutes while she went to look a round. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to. "It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for Christmas. She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her." I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus would bring it to her after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly. "No, Santa Claus can't bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there." His eyes were so sad while saying this. "My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.'' My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said: "I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall." Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me "I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won't forget me. I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister." Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly. I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. "Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?'' "OK," he said, "I hope I do have enough." I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money. The little boy said: "Thank you God for giving me enough money!" Then he looked at me and added, "I asked last night before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give it to my sister. He heard me!'' "I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose.'' "My mommy loves white roses." A few minutes later, the old lady returned and I left with my basket. I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local newspaper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma. Was this the family of the little boy? Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young woman had passed away. I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wishes before her burial. She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed forever.. The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him. Now you have two choices: 1) Repost this message. 2) Ignore it as if it never touched your heart |
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