osfan
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Posts posted by osfan
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Here are some that get me:
"He is doing great now. He has done a complete 360 from where he was".
If you do a 360, you are where you started???
Anyone finishing a sentence wif "You know what I'm saying" or "you know"
Uhh, Yeah!
What are the ones that get you?
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Hey Lady Raider! Yes, its true, it did happen, but it only took until around 10:30 for the owner to realize he screwed up BIG TIME! And called and asked me to come back, after a lot of thought I did go back but its only temporary as I have no desire to stay anywhere that treats its people like that. At least now I will get paid while I look for something!
Whew!
I am glad you are working again, even if for this SOB. You will find something.
Or, you could stand out on 92 and 278 wif a bucket.
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Good Morning Everyone! I couldn't sleep so I am up and at em.
Who?
Good Morning Frecking Freckiest Frecky Frecks!
(You too, Jabez, and you too REV the rich dude. )
Good Morning!!Yes, only two more days!! Kbear has field day today. I hope he gets some of his energy out!!
I know these last few days at school are horrible for ya'll. I have very fresh memories!!
I'll be glad when we all get a break! We need to just sleep for about 2 weeks!A what?
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I liked it till the last 30 minutes.
What was up with the voice?
I thought I was listening to a "monster" from the old Lost in Space TV show.
I blame it on the fact that it was a Made for TV movie.
I am sorry I stayed up till 11.
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I wasn't sure.....???
I don't get it.
If you have ever listened to Boortz, he despises anyone that has ever owned, driven or saw a Camaro.
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I smoke, and I'm gay......Do I fit in here?
Not unless you drive a Camaro, too. Then you are one of the stupidest individuals on earth, according to Big Mouth Boortz.
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Send a message to the Publisher or any of the other mods.
Be VERY Careful how you word it though.
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My neice is 2 and she loves baby dolls with clothes and diapers. She also like the high heels that you play dress up with
Sounds like a CSI episode.
I think anything Doll related or a stuffed animal.
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I am in no way pointing the finger at anyone on this board. I am merely asking the question. I see this all the time. A friend of mine is contemplating the same thing...I just don't get it.
Dare I say I agree wif Arcaidy?
It might not have been what was said,
but HOW it was said.
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I'm not rich, but my kids have all that they need, and isn't that all that counts anyway?
but that is where you are very WRONG, my friend.
There are other ways of measuring "Rich", than with money.
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In closing, Dr. Newhall brought to mind the concept of a little boat going over the horizon; tearful friends waving goodbye forever on the shore and crying “She is gone.” Weep not for her, those who are left behind, - for on another shore just over the horizon waits a cheering throng crying for joy, “She has arrived!”
That is beautiful~
It brought tears to my eyes.
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I wanted to share this with you. I thought it was touching.
The Memorial Service for Miss Lillian G. Asplund
(the last American survivor of "Titanic")
Wed. May 10, 2006
Worcester, Massachusetts is a city of approximately 180,00 living souls, located in what the state likes to call the “Heart of the Commonwealth. It is, like Rome, a city of seven hills and the second largest city in the state after nearby Boston. In 1684 the former Quinsigamond Plantation, was renamed Worcester, possibly for Worcester, England, as an angry gesture at King Charles II of England, who had suffered defeat at the Battle of Worcester in 1651. Worcester would become a thriving hub for education, culture, transportation and industrial innovation, including new methods of making wire, (which enticed Carl Asplund to bring his family back from Sweden), textiles, grinding wheels, and envelopes.
In the twentieth century the city would count among its famous natives rocketry pioneer Robert H. Goddard, a professor at Clark University, and one courageous Worcester-born woman of Swedish descent who survived a pivotal event of the short, golden era called Edwardian, aboard a ship which was thought to be unsinkable. Until Sunday morning, May 7, 2006, most of the inhabitants of the city of Worcester had most likely not given Lillian Gertrud Asplund much thought, if they had known of her at all. By eventide of Wednesday, May 10, 2006, not many in her native city had not heard her name and learned that she was the last American survivor of the Titanic, and the last living link whose eyes rested upon, and recorded the unfolding of the most famous peacetime disaster at sea.
Wednesday dawned grey and chilling, following hard upon the driving wind and rain of Tuesday night. Early morning papers had suggested that the day set aside to lay the mortal remains of Lillian Asplund to rest at last in the soil of the Old Swedish Cemetery with her parents and brother would be a media event and “standing room only”. For the woman who had for nearly a century maintained a full, productive but private life, and who had provided the comfort of a widowed mother and solace of a beloved brother, this seemed somehow an incongruous ending.
The service at the Nordgren Memorial Chapel situated on Lincoln Street, nestled amongst prim Victorian houses was to commence at 2 p.m. By 1:15 a slow but steady parade of automobiles entered the rain-drenched lot. Several reporters stood a respectful distance on the sidewalk and watched as a line formed at the front entrance. Two police cruisers stood at the ready; tall somber men in uniform prepared for anything which might happen to mar the dignity of the day. For a time the drizzle ceased as people waiting outside began to turn to their neighbor in line and ask about Miss Lillian. Two ladies who had worked with her at the insurance company many years ago smiled brightly at a young reporter and told of Miss Asplund’s energy and zest for life, but also of her private, reserved nature and most endearingly of her love for her garden. Over thirty years had passed since Lillian’s retirement and many of the heads nodding and remembering in the damp afternoon breeze were silver-haired.
Upon entering the foyer the first view was of a large painting of Christ at Emmaus, newly resurrected and so transfigured that his own disciples knew him not until they recognized him in the breaking of the bread. There was a quiet, slow- moving pace through the line into the chapel, pausing to sign the register of guests. One lady explained she was a great-niece of Miss Asplund, a grandchild of a sister of Selma Asplund’s. A small memorial card was personally given to each person that bore a lithographed image of a calm sea over which shone a golden cross with the reverse giving the life span of Miss Asplund. The card is very like a 1912 postcard by the Bamford Company, published after the Titanic’s sinking which depicts the ocean at night with a gleaming cross high in a dark sky over the waves.
In the soft glow of two rose-tinted torchieres reposed the pale ivory casket on its bier with a back drop drapery of eau de nile green silk; two tall and slender bleached beeswax tapers tipped with shining brass wax followers stood sentry on each side. Clusters of dusty mauve rosebuds were painted on the silvery handles of the casket, in mute tribute to Miss Lillian’s favorite flower. A graceful cascade of miniature pink roses, monte casino, pink snapdragons and miniature carnations with maidenhair fern adorned the top of the casket while floral sprays of spring flowers, one of pale apricot-coloured roses, another of pink roses, a stately vase of white gerbera and white snapdragons with ribbons the blue shade of Sweden’s national flag, and a pulpit spray of deep red roses, emerald fern, white Fuji chrysanthemums, white snapdragons and daisies flanked the sides. A double prie-dieu with deep rose velvet kneelers stood before the catafalque, and a large honey-coloured wooden cross bearing a silver crucifix centered above the casket.
Mr. Maloof and Alden Carlson, Miss Asplund’s attorney and cousin, sat near the back of the main parlour; Mr. Maloof being the genial and gracious presence who greeted and made all feel comfortable and welcome. Miss Esther, Lillian Asplund’s longtime Kenyan nurse-companion sat in the front row place reserved for close family. She was dressed all in black, her thin shoulders trembling with emotion, . Miss Esther had spent many hours tenderly caring for the bedridden Miss Asplund, and the tears coursing down her cheeks throughout the simple service told of her great devotion to her old friend and charge. She had come an hour earlier, helped gently by friends, supporting her into the chapel to spend last precious moments alone with Miss Lillian.
The Rev. Dr. Jeffrey Newhall, vested in an academic preaching gown of dull ensign blue banded with black velvet doctoral sleeve chevrons, stepped to the lectern promptly at 2 o’ clock, bringing the low hum of conversation among the sixty-two seated people to a hush. A side parlour had been opened to accommodate fifteen latecomers. After a warm greeting , Dr. Newhall began in a tone of comfort and authority bespeaking many years’ experience in the pulpit. It was clear that Miss Asplund’s life was understood and well-known to him. After reciting the King James Version of the Twenty-Third Psalm- “her version of the Bible”, there were scripture readings from Isaiah, John 14 and Paul’s letter to the Romans, Chapter 8, the recitation of The Lord's Prayer and a well-loved poem by John Greenleaf Whittier called “The Eternal Goodness”. The thought which was forming in many minds as he spoke of the courage of Miss Asplund through life’s many challenges , was this: would there be a mention of the Titanic and its effect upon her life? Perhaps Miss Lillian would not have wanted it, but nonetheless, the course of her life was so formed by the event, that to leave it out would have been incomplete, and so the minister began with the metaphor of life as a sort of journey into the unknown, from launching forth with hope at the beginning through the trials and tribulations on stormy seas, then coming at last into safe harbor at journey’s end. “It was good she was born Swedish- stubborn and strong- these things she would need,” he said.
Dr. Newhall then cited a series of paintings by Thomas Cole, born in Lancashire ,England in 1801, immigrating to America at age seventeen and becoming America’s foremost landscape painter in a league with England’s own Constable. Cole painted a series of four canvases called “The Voyages of Life”in 1842 depicting the stages of a human life from childhood through very old age . The first stage shows a beautiful angel clothed in white floating on calm waters in a golden boat, the human figure, dressed in red, grows older through two more canvases in the series, as the little boat goes through various scenes of peace and light, darkness and storm, watched over by the angel from above. The final canvas is of an elderly figure seated in the boat, beams of light streaming down from heaven, with a dove gliding into the sunlight; the angel with hand poised to take the bent and weary soul homeward. Within the imagery of these paintings the elderly pastor wove the story of another small figure in a boat on the great Atlantic on a night of ice, despair and tragedy. Every soul in the room sat in silence, hearing these words, eyes drifting towards the place where lay the now-silent, small figure of an indomitable woman- a woman behind whose closed eyes now rested the last vision of Titanic.
After reciting the well-known words of absolution of any sin committed during the lifetime, there came the commendation of the spirit to God, and prayers for the repose of the soul.
In closing, Dr. Newhall brought to mind the concept of a little boat going over the horizon; tearful friends waving goodbye forever on the shore and crying “She is gone.” Weep not for her, those who are left behind, - for on another shore just over the horizon waits a cheering throng crying for joy, “She has arrived!”
As the old familiar melody of Abide With Me was played, every person in the room came forward one at a time to kneel, offer a last prayer and say farewell. Most turned away with moist eyes. For those who knew her well, for those who knew her somewhat, and for those who knew her not at all, she somehow belonged to the world, and was one of us who would be so dearly missed.
The long procession snaked through the back streets of Worcester in the light drizzle, the leaden skies filled with dark clouds. Past the hallowed halls of the College of the Holy Cross and onward to Hope Avenue at a stately pace went the cortege, through the city of Miss Lillian’s birth 99 years ago. The avenue leads to the place of repose for all of Worcester. Hope Cemetery, All Faiths and Notre Dame all are situated together on both sides of the quiet street overlooking the seven hills from their high perch over the city. Turning onto Webster, then Island Road, the green canvas marquee could be seen covering the grave site. Television and newspaper crews kept a distance during the final committal rites. Only the flash of a camera and the maneuverings of one young man to obtain good angles broke the solemnity. Dr. Newhall began by saying, “This will be brief as Miss Lillian would not wish you to be cold”. Once again the Twenty-Third Psalm and The Lord's Prayer were said by all. As he pronounced the timeworn words of the consecration of the earth, he blessed the ground with a pink rose in his hand. “Daughter of Sweden, child of God, and New England Yankee too” he said, which brought a smile to all who know what the last truly means. All were invited to take a flower as “loving her garden, she would want you to”. Some stayed to photograph the stone and casket, a few held interviews nearby while others looked for comfort among friends. One by one the throng dispersed, back into daily lives, which for a brief time were suspended to mark the passing of a grand lady.
Some hours later, as the evening closed in, the only sign of all which had gone before on that afternoon were the tread marks of the great machine which had closed the rich soil over the little family reunited once more, and for all eternity. A catbird called its evening song in a nearby tree as the fragrance of crushed rose petals perfumed the air.
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 347077 , £31 7s 9d
Destination: Worcester Massachusetts United States
Rescued (boat 15)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Saturday 6th May 2006
Travelling Companions (on same ticket)
Master Edvin Rojj Felix Asplund
Mr Carl Oscar Vilhelm Gustafsson Asplund
Mrs Selma Augusta Emilia Asplund
Master Carl Edgar Asplund
Master Filip Oscar Asplund
Master Clarence Gustaf Hugo Asplund
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We both are Organ donors. As long as they wait till we are done with them.
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see now, I think that's creepy
Especially if you are made into a "Pierced" ring.
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Hi folks .
sorry i didnt get to give a update last night. i just want to take a minute to say thanks for all the prayers and thoughts. they eem to thinkthe artery if the front of my heart has a blockage. so i have to be at cobb at 06:30 friday morning for a 8 oclock heart cath. I have been givin the p.com promise by member that i will be just fine .
now as for last night i didnt get home untill 4 30 this morning and went right to sleep\they also want me to do a sleep study but i dont think i could wear the mask thing as im very closterphobic and would choke to death having to wear it.please just keepme in your prayers this weekend and ill post again about this when i get home.
CPAP takes a bit of getting used to, but then it is OK.
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im having a heart cath done and then resting for the restof the weekend.
I had one. Piece of cake.
Your thigh will be sore and you'll have a nasty bruise.
Watch out for the "Shaving Nurse"
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Well, as a teenager we used to always say, "If they smoke then they'll poke". So there must be some credibility to it.
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That video is hilarious! So is that pic of Aunt Ester.
Yes, She was a CLASSIC!
A comedienne turned actress who rose to fame as outspoken bible-thumper Aunt Ester
in Redd Foxx's hit sitcom Sanford and Son, LaWanda Page performed with such other famous contemporaries as Richard Pryor and Rudy Ray Moore before finding success on the small screen. A native of Cleveland who grew up in St. Louis, Page first hit the stage as an exotic dancer and chorus girl billed "the Bronze Goddess of Fire" (due to her penchant for playing with fire on-stage) before fully realizing her talents as a standup comic. Subsequently approached by Foxx to star in Sanford and Son, Page tickled television viewers' funny bones with her memorable role as Foxx's aggressively religious sister-in-law in the original series' spin-off The Sanford Arms, and the 1980 revival Sanford. Throughout the 1980s and '90s, Page crafted a feature-film career with minor roles in such comedies as Zapped! (1982), My Blue Heaven (1990), Friday (1995), and Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood (1996). Always retaining her fiery approach to comedy, Page also performed on-stage in productions of The Inquest of Sam Cooke and Take It to the Lord...Or Else. On September 14, 2002, LaWanda Page died from complications of diabetes in Los Angeles, CA. She was 81. 
In 2002, I tried to get her to send me an autograph, but a friend of hers responded to my email, and said she was too sick to do one. She told me that LaWanda would be "tickled" and happy that someone still remembered her.
Check this out from her comedy routine:
WARNING: Not for Sensitive. Aunt Esther had a wicked tounge.
or this:
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Kind of like Baptist preachers at the Liquor Store......
LMAO
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just say no to thumpers
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Baloney............MB is no more expensive than PCB....
And no where near as many Rednecks....
I wasn't comparing it, but Bologna isn't a bad thing to take , either. Thanks.
All I am saying is take what you need, pack light and have fun. The tip about Walmart is good.
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what is a thumpers?
Check ye ole PM.
Don't want to upset Jabbers, ya know.
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thumpers?
thumpers!
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Yep, sounds like you'll be farting all weekend
It helps me swim faster.
Desperation Movie On Tv Tonite
in Internet Cafe
Posted
Ron Pearlman did an Excellent job, as the sherriff.