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I'm bored- tell me a story

“F### you!”

“Oh, that’s my favorite.”

A little 48 Hours movie lines for you.
 
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This isn’t meant to be political - I was simply trying to think of the best storyteller I ever heard and share one of his stories. This was one of the only ones I could find a transcription for. Maybe you’ve heard this one - from Paul Harvey...used to love listening to him when I was younger.


IF

When rape results in pregnancy, or when giving birth might cost the mother's life, few women would fail to consider as an alternative:

Abortion.

But let's say you're a doctor--a physician not morally adverse to terminating a patient's pregnancy--and the circumstances are neither frivolous nor dire.

Let's say that on a given day you are consulted by two young women, both pregnant, both doubtful as to whether they should be.

Now, remember: such a choice is ultimately the mother's, but because you are a physician, and because your judgment is respected, and because your patient is seeking guidance, everything you say, regardless of how clinically objective--yes, even the tone of your voice--may sway her decision.

Yours is a position of enormous responsibility. Like it or not, the very expression on your face could save or extinguish a life.

Your first expectant mother is Caterina.

Caterina is unmarried, obviously in her teens, obviously poor.

You ask her age, and she tells you, and at once you realize she has overstated her years by one or two or three.

Caterina is in the first trimester of her pregnancy.

You ask if she has been pregnant before.

Caterina shakes her head.

Studying her, you wonder.

You inquire of her general health; no problems, she says.

And the health of the father?

Caterina shrugs; her eyes fall.

She has lost contact with the father of her unborn child. All she knows is he was twenty-three, a lawyer or a notary or something like that. He lives nearby, she thinks; she is not sure. The affair was over quickly, little more than a one-night stand. No child was expected--nor now is wanted.

What Doctor, is your advice?

Later the same day, you are consulted by a second expectant mother.

Her name is Klara.

Klara is twenty-eight, married three years, the wife of a government worker; she has the look of a woman accustomed to anguish.

Concerned for the ultimate health of her unborn, Klara explains that for each year of her marriage she has had a child--and each has died; the first within thirty-one months, the second within sixteen months, the third within several days.

Disease? You ask.

Klara nods. She suspects that any future child would be equally susceptible. For you see, her husband is also her second cousin. Both Catholic, they received papal dispensation to marry--though now Klara questions their wisdom in asking permission.

And there's something else...

One of Klara's sisters is a hunchback; another sister, the mother of a hunchback.

Klara is in the first trimester of her fourth pregnancy. The odds are against the health of her child. Time is running out.

And it is only later that you learn--Klara's husband is not, as she has said, her second cousin. He is her uncle.

So what, Doctor, is your advice?

In addition to all immediate considerations--physical, moral, religious--the dilemma of whether to terminate a pregnancy is a philosophical question:

Might this life, if left to live, affect the consciousness or even the destiny of mankind?

Yet if the profundity of this question is diminished by the balance which governs all life, there is evidence in the two true stories you have just heard: the unwed mother with unwanted child; the married mother with the graves of three infants behind her.

For if you, as the hypothetical physician, have opted in both cases for abortion--then you have respectively denied the world the multifaceted genius of Leonardo da Vinci--and spared humanity the terror of Adolf Hitler.

They are THE REST OF THE STORY.
 
about anything

Who y'all talking to man?
Uh
Check it out, check it out
This here goes out o all the niggas that be ****ing mad bitches
In other niggas cribs
Thinkin' shit is sweet
Nigga creep up on your ass, haha
Live niggas respect it, check it
I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya
Even left all my mother****ing hoes for ya
Niggas think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that
With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak
We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat
Sweetness, where you parked at?
Petiteness but that ass fat
She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm ****in' with you
The bitch official though, dick harder than a missile, yo
Try to hit it if she trippin' disappearing like Arsenio
Yo, the bitch push a double-oh
With the five in front, probably a conniving stunt
Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her
Find a deal with her, she **** around and steal, huh?
Then we all get laced
Televisions, Versace heaven, when I'm up in them
The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit
She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks
Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush
She's stressing me to ****, like she was in a rush
We ****ed in his bed, quite dangerous
I'm in his ass while he playing against the Utah Jazz
My 112, CD blast, I was past
She came twice, I came last, roll the grass
She giggle, sayin', "I'm smoking on homegrown"
Then I heard her moan, "Honey I'm home"
Yup, tote chrome for situations like this
I'm up in his broad, I know he won't like this
Now I'm like, "Bitch, you better talk to him"
Before this fist put a spark to him
**** around shit get dark to him
Put a part through him
Lose a major part to him, arm, leg
She beggin' me to stop but this cat gettin' closer
Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uh
Before my eyes could blink, she screams out
"Honey bring me up somethin' to drink"
He go back downstairs more time to think
My brain racin', she's tellin' me to stay patient
She don't know I'm cool as a fan
Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man
But I can and I will though, I'm tryna chill though
Even though situation lookin' kinda ill, yo
It came to me like a song I wrote
Told the bitch, "Gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope"
Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face
Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase
Play the cut, nigga coming off some love potion shit
Flash the heat on 'em, he stood emotionless
Dropped the glass screaming, "Don't blast here's the stash
A hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!"
Nigga pulling mad G's out the floor
Put stacks in a Prada knapsack, hit the door
Grab the keys to the five, call my niggas on the cell
"Bring some weed I got a story to tell" uh, uh
Yo man, y'all niggas ain't gon' believe what the **** happened to me
Remember that bitch I left the club with, man?
Yeah
Yo, sticky, yo
I'm up in this bitch crib
This bitch ****ing one of them ol' Knick ass niggas and shit
I'm up in the spot, so you know (who cuz?)
I don't know, I don't know which one?
One of them six-five niggas, I don't know
Yeah
Anyway I'm up in the mother****ing spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever
I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some
Get the **** out
Must have been rained out or something
He comes up in the spot
Had me scared, had me scared to death, I was shook Daddy
But I forgot I had my Roscoe on me
Always, you know how we do
So boom the nigga comes up the stairs, he creeping up the steps
The bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit
Shit gettin' mad nervous, I said **** that man (I know you was ready to clap him)
Man nigga, you know how we do it nigga
Ransom note style put the scarf around my mother****ing face
Gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack
Soon as this nigga comes up in the spot
Flash the Desert in his face, he drops the glass
Looked like the nigga pissed on himself or somethin', word to my mother
Mother****er, this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet
Start giving me mad paper (oh shit)
Mad paper
Yo, I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch, cuz
Word to mother I used to **** with her cousin but you ain't know that
Hahaha
You wouldn't know that shit
Really though
I put all that mother****ing money up in the Prada knapsack
And uh, two words, I'm gone
No doubt, no doubt
Yo nigga, you got some loud? Y'all got some loud?
No doubt
Yo, you got that dust, baby?
The other day was a good day for you, baby

 
Who y'all talking to man?
Uh
Check it out, check it out
This here goes out o all the niggas that be ****ing mad bitches
In other niggas cribs
Thinkin' shit is sweet
Nigga creep up on your ass, haha
Live niggas respect it, check it
I kick flows for ya, kick down doors for ya
Even left all my mother****ing hoes for ya
Niggas think Frankie pussy whipped, nigga picture that
With a Kodak, Insta-ma-tak
We don't get down like that, lay my game down quite flat
Sweetness, where you parked at?
Petiteness but that ass fat
She got a body make a nigga wanna eat that, I'm ****in' with you
The bitch official though, dick harder than a missile, yo
Try to hit it if she trippin' disappearing like Arsenio
Yo, the bitch push a double-oh
With the five in front, probably a conniving stunt
Y'all drive in front, I'm a peel with her
Find a deal with her, she **** around and steal, huh?
Then we all get laced
Televisions, Versace heaven, when I'm up in them
The shit she kicked, all the shit's legit
She get dick from a player off the New York Knicks
Nigga tricked ridiculous, the shit was plush
She's stressing me to ****, like she was in a rush
We ****ed in his bed, quite dangerous
I'm in his ass while he playing against the Utah Jazz
My 112, CD blast, I was past
She came twice, I came last, roll the grass
She giggle, sayin', "I'm smoking on homegrown"
Then I heard her moan, "Honey I'm home"
Yup, tote chrome for situations like this
I'm up in his broad, I know he won't like this
Now I'm like, "Bitch, you better talk to him"
Before this fist put a spark to him
**** around shit get dark to him
Put a part through him
Lose a major part to him, arm, leg
She beggin' me to stop but this cat gettin' closer
Gettin hot like a toaster, I cocks the toast, uh
Before my eyes could blink, she screams out
"Honey bring me up somethin' to drink"
He go back downstairs more time to think
My brain racin', she's tellin' me to stay patient
She don't know I'm cool as a fan
Gat in hand, I don't wanna blast her man
But I can and I will though, I'm tryna chill though
Even though situation lookin' kinda ill, yo
It came to me like a song I wrote
Told the bitch, "Gimme your scarf, pillowcase and rope"
Got dressed quick, tied the scarf around my face
Roped the bitch up, gagged her mouth with the pillowcase
Play the cut, nigga coming off some love potion shit
Flash the heat on 'em, he stood emotionless
Dropped the glass screaming, "Don't blast here's the stash
A hundred cash just don't shoot my ass, please!"
Nigga pulling mad G's out the floor
Put stacks in a Prada knapsack, hit the door
Grab the keys to the five, call my niggas on the cell
"Bring some weed I got a story to tell" uh, uh
Yo man, y'all niggas ain't gon' believe what the **** happened to me
Remember that bitch I left the club with, man?
Yeah
Yo, sticky, yo
I'm up in this bitch crib
This bitch ****ing one of them ol' Knick ass niggas and shit
I'm up in the spot, so you know (who cuz?)
I don't know, I don't know which one?
One of them six-five niggas, I don't know
Yeah
Anyway I'm up in the mother****ing spot, so boom I'm up in the pussy, whatever whatever
I sparks up some lye, Pop Duke creeps up in on some
Get the **** out
Must have been rained out or something
He comes up in the spot
Had me scared, had me scared to death, I was shook Daddy
But I forgot I had my Roscoe on me
Always, you know how we do
So boom the nigga comes up the stairs, he creeping up the steps
The bitch all shook she sends the nigga back downstairs to get some drinks and shit
Shit gettin' mad nervous, I said **** that man (I know you was ready to clap him)
Man nigga, you know how we do it nigga
Ransom note style put the scarf around my mother****ing face
Gagged that bitch up, played the kizzack
Soon as this nigga comes up in the spot
Flash the Desert in his face, he drops the glass
Looked like the nigga pissed on himself or somethin', word to my mother
Mother****er, this nigga runs dead to the floor, peels up the carpet
Start giving me mad paper (oh shit)
Mad paper
Yo, I told you that bitch was a shiesty bitch, cuz
Word to mother I used to **** with her cousin but you ain't know that
Hahaha
You wouldn't know that shit
Really though
I put all that mother****ing money up in the Prada knapsack
And uh, two words, I'm gone
No doubt, no doubt
Yo nigga, you got some loud? Y'all got some loud?
No doubt
Yo, you got that dust, baby?
The other day was a good day for you, baby


PeacefulEducatedCaiman-size_restricted.gif
 
Winton Churchill was considered to be a great painter. Knowledgeable people felt that had he done it full time he could easily have been one of the greatest of the 20th century.
 
You don't know any stories? Okay, I'll tell you a story. This is a newspaper. It's 90 per cent bullshit, but it's entertaining. That's why I read it, because it entertains me. You won't let me read it, so you entertain me with your bullshit. Tell me a story, right now.
 
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about anything
Here ya go Nitt1300........

Subject: Tax advice

Q: What is an Economic Stimulus payment?
A: It is money that the federal government will send to taxpayers.

Q: Where will the government get this money?
A: From taxpayers.

Q: So the government is giving me back my own money?
A: Only a smidgen of it.

Q: What is the purpose of this payment?
A: The plan is for you to use the money to purchase a high definition television set, a new iPad, or a new SUV, thus stimulating the economy.

Q: Isn’t that stimulating the economy of China ?
A: Shut up.

Below is some helpful advice on how to best help the U. S. Economy with and your stimulus check wisely:

* If you spend the stimulus money at Walmart the money will go to China or Sri Lanka.

* if you spend it on gasoline, your money goes to the Arabs.

* if you purchase a computer, it goes to India, Taiwan or China.

* if you purchase fruits and vegetables, it will go to Mexico, Honduras, and Guatemala.

* if you buy an efficient car, it will go to Japan or Korea.

* if you purchase useless stuff, it goes to Taiwan.

* if you pay your credit card off, or buy stock, it will go to the management bonuses and they will hide it offshore.

Instead keep the money in America by:

(1) Spending it at a yard sale, or

(2) Go to a ballgame, or

(3) Spend it on prostitutes, or

(4) Beer, or

(5) Tattoos

(These are the only American businesses still operating in the U.S.)

CONCLUSION: Go to a ballgame with a tattooed prostitute that you met at a yard sale and drink beer all day. No need to thank me, I’m just glad I could be of help.

Your friendly tax accountant
Stormin :p
 
about anything
I don't have any stories to tell, but I will commend a book to your attention:

Consider reading Mikhail Bulgakov's "Master and Margarita." If you've already read it, consider reading it again.

Inasmuch as I think this could be a long haul event, I'm personally going to try to read something both challenging and atypical for me: Jaroslav Pelikan's 5-volume "The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine." If that doesn't float your boat, consider the equally lengthy, but more engaging "History of the English Speaking Peoples" or "The Second World War" by Churchill.
 
Here ya go Nitt1300........

Subject: Tax advice

Q: What is an Economic Stimulus payment?
A: It is money that the federal government will send to taxpayers.

Q: Where will the government get this money?
A: From taxpayers.

Q: So the government is giving me back my own money?
A: Only a smidgen of it.

Q: What is the purpose of this payment?
A: The plan is for you to use the money to purchase a high definition television set, a new iPad, or a new SUV, thus stimulating the economy.

Q: Isn’t that stimulating the economy of China ?
A: Shut up.

Below is some helpful advice on how to best help the U. S. Economy with and your stimulus check wisely:

* If you spend the stimulus money at Walmart the money will go to China or Sri Lanka.

* if you spend it on gasoline, your money goes to the Arabs.

* if you purchase a computer, it goes to India, Taiwan or China.

* if you purchase fruits and vegetables, it will go to Mexico, Honduras, and Guatemala.

* if you buy an efficient car, it will go to Japan or Korea.

* if you purchase useless stuff, it goes to Taiwan.

* if you pay your credit card off, or buy stock, it will go to the management bonuses and they will hide it offshore.

Instead keep the money in America by:

(1) Spending it at a yard sale, or

(2) Go to a ballgame, or

(3) Spend it on prostitutes, or

(4) Beer, or

(5) Tattoos

(These are the only American businesses still operating in the U.S.)

CONCLUSION: Go to a ballgame with a tattooed prostitute that you met at a yard sale and drink beer all day. No need to thank me, I’m just glad I could be of help.

Your friendly tax accountant
Stormin :p
 
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I don't have any stories to tell, but I will commend a book to your attention:

Consider reading Mikhail Bulgakov's "Master and Margarita." If you've already read it, consider reading it again.

Inasmuch as I think this could be a long haul event, I'm personally going to try to read something both challenging and atypical for me: Jaroslav Pelikan's 5-volume "The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine." If that doesn't float your boat, consider the equally lengthy, but more engaging "History of the English Speaking Peoples" or "The Second World War" by Churchill.
I’m starting Walter Isaccson’s biography of Leonardo DaVinci.
 
This story takes place nine months in the future...

As James Franklin is being carried off the Hard Rock Stadium field on the shoulders of Micah Parsons and Pat Freiermuth, blue and white confetti falls like a February Centre county blizzard. The Nittany Lions have won their 3rd National Championship dominating the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame 35-7.

All is well in Happy Valley, but the same can not be said about Kelly's Pub where many of the Irish faithful had gathered. Two in particular, Paddy Cavanaugh and Eamon Herlehy, were getting very drunk, drowning their dissapointment with copious amounts of Guinness, when suddenly Paddy throws up all over himself. "Oh no!" he shouts, Now my wife will kill me" Eamon, the quick thinker of the two says, "Don't worry my friend, just tuck a twenty in your breast pocket and tell your wife that someone threw up on you and gave you twenty dollars for the dry cleaning bill."

So they stay for another couple of hours and get even drunker. Eventually they stumble home. Paddy is met at the front door by his wife who immediately reads him the riot act.

"You reek of alcohol and you've puked all over yourself! My God you're disgusting!" Paddy speaking slowly so as not to be misunderstood says, "Nowainaminit, I can esplain evrythin. Itsh snot wha chewthink. I only had a cupla drrinks, but thish other guy got sick on me, he jus coundin hol hiss liquor. He said he was berry, berry sorry and gave me twenties bucks for the cleanin bill.

His wife, who was on the verge of forgiving him, looks in his breast pocket and finds two twenty dollar bills.

"But this is forty bucks!" his wife exclaimed. With out missing a beat, Paddy replies. "Oh yea... I almost furgot, he schitt in my pants,too!"
 
I have a story....but don't remember how it all goes, so perhaps if I start, someone else can pick it up.


Here's a story
about a lovely lady
who was bringing up three very lovely girls...

something
something
something
...Petticoat Junction. Sorry, wrong show.
 
Here are a couple of stories from the great storyteller/songwriter/singer Todd Snider.




If you are going to listen the first one (and you won’t regret it if you do), don’t turn it off when the song starts. There is a funny follow up story towards the end of the song.
 
Last edited:
Old mother hubbard,
Went to her cupboard,
To fetch her old dog a bone.
When she bent over,
Rover took over.....and she got a bone of her own.
 
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Winton Churchill was considered to be a great painter. Knowledgeable people felt that had he done it full time he could easily have been one of the greatest of the 20th century.
Damn, too bad. That might have saved a lot of lives
 
about anything




Children's Story
Slick Rick

Here we go
Once upon a time not long ago
When people wore pajamas and lived life slow
When laws were stern and justice stood
And people were behavin' like they ought ta good
There lived a lil' boy who was misled
By anotha lil' boy and this is what he said
"Me, Ya, Ty, we gonna make sum cash
Robbin' old folks and makin' tha dash"
They did the job, money came with ease
But one couldn't stop, it's like he had a disease
He robbed another and another and a sista and her brotha
Tried to rob a man who was a D.T. undercover
The cop grabbed his arm, he started acting erratic
He said "Keep still, boy, no need for static"
Punched him in his belly and he gave him a slap
But little did he know the lil' boy was strapped
The kid pulled out a gun, he said "Why did ya hit me?"
The barrel was set straight for the cop's kidney
The cop got scared, the kid, he starts to figure
"I'll do years if I pull this trigga"
So he cold dashed and ran around the block
Cop radioes it to another lady cop
He ran by a tree, there he saw this sista
A shot for the head, he shot back but he missed her
Looked around good and from expectations
So he decided he'd head for the subway stations
But she was coming and he made a left
He was runnin' top speed till he was outta breath
Knocked an old man down and swore he killed him
Then he made his move to an abandoned building
Ran up the stairs up to the top floor
Opened up the door there, guess who he saw?
Dave the dope fiend shootin' dope
Who don't know the meaning of water nor soap
He said "I need bullets, hurry up, run!"
The dope fiend brought back a spanking shotgun
He went outside but there was cops all over
Then he dipped into a car, a stolen Nova (?)
Raced up the block doing 83
Crashed into a tree near university
Escaped alive though the car was battered
Rat-a-tat-tatted and all the cops scattered
Ran out of bullets and he still had static
Grabbed a pregnant lady and out the automatic
Pointed at her head and he said the gun was full o' lead
He told the cops "Back off or honey here's dead"
Deep in his heart he knew he was wrong
So he let the lady go and he starts to run on
Sirens sounded, he seemed astounded
Before long the lil' boy got surrounded
He dropped the gun, so went the glory
And this is the way I have end this story
He was only seventeen, in a madman's dream
The cops shot the kid, I still hear him scream
This ain't funny so don't ya dare laugh
Just another case 'bout the wrong path
Straight 'n narrow or yo' soul gets cast
Good night, knock em out the box Rick, knock em out Rick
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Ricky M. L. Walters
Children's Story lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
 
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NSFW... but listen to the story and tell me this dude ain’t a baller if this is how things really went down.
 
So my mom always asks me how everything going. All that mom stuff. I always say the family is great. Business is doing great. Very blessed in my life. But I’m logging a ton of hours. Haven’t had a day off since January 1st. I’m running low in the gas tank. With having a wife and two kids to deal with also. She looked at me last week. And says I guess you can’t use that line for awhile. I said what line? You know about not having off. I needed a little laugh. Cheers!
 
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Well you see there's this story about a head college football coach with the initials J.H. He was dominant over his main rival and was know for winning National Titles. Beep, beep, beep!!! Awakened by the alarm clock the story comes to an abrupt end...
 
This story takes place nine months in the future...

As James Franklin is being carried off the Hard Rock Stadium field on the shoulders of Micah Parsons and Pat Freiermuth, blue and white confetti falls like a February Centre county blizzard. The Nittany Lions have won their 3rd National Championship dominating the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame 35-7.

All is well in Happy Valley, but the same can not be said about Kelly's Pub where many of the Irish faithful had gathered. Two in particular, Paddy Cavanaugh and Eamon Herlehy, were getting very drunk, drowning their dissapointment with copious amounts of Guinness, when suddenly Paddy throws up all over himself. "Oh no!" he shouts, Now my wife will kill me" Eamon, the quick thinker of the two says, "Don't worry my friend, just tuck a twenty in your breast pocket and tell your wife that someone threw up on you and gave you twenty dollars for the dry cleaning bill."

So they stay for another couple of hours and get even drunker. Eventually they stumble home. Paddy is met at the front door by his wife who immediately reads him the riot act.

"You reek of alcohol and you've puked all over yourself! My God you're disgusting!" Paddy speaking slowly so as not to be misunderstood says, "Nowainaminit, I can esplain evrythin. Itsh snot wha chewthink. I only had a cupla drrinks, but thish other guy got sick on me, he jus coundin hol hiss liquor. He said he was berry, berry sorry and gave me twenties bucks for the cleanin bill.

His wife, who was on the verge of forgiving him, looks in his breast pocket and finds two twenty dollar bills.

"But this is forty bucks!" his wife exclaimed. With out missing a beat, Paddy replies. "Oh yea... I almost furgot, he schitt in my pants,too!"

Very good. :D
 
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