Pamukkale - The Cotton Castle

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The Perfect Story

There was a perfect man who met a perfect woman. After a perfect courtship,they had a perfect wedding. Their life together was, of course, perfect.

One snowy, stormy Christmas Eve this perfect couple was driving along a winding road when they noticed someone at the roadside in distress. Being the perfect couple, they stopped to help.

There stood Santa Claus with a huge bundle of toys. Not wanting to disappoint any children on the eve of Christmas, the perfect couple loaded Santa and his toys into their vehicle. Soon they were driving along delivering the toys. Unfortunately, the driving conditions deteriorated and the perfect couple and Santa Claus had an accident.

Only one of them survived the accident. Who was the survivor?

The perfect woman. She's the only one that really existed in the first place. Everyone knows there is no Santa Claus and there is no such thing as a perfect man..

To the female readers: That's the end of the joke. Please stop reading now.
To the male readers: Keep reading.

So, if there is no perfect man and no Santa Claus, the perfect woman must have been driving. This explains why there was a car accident.

And by the way, if you are a woman and still reading this, it illustrates another point: women never listen!

Museu Hermitage I

Página de Rosto da obra “The Museum of the Imperial Hermitage”, Konstantin Ukhtomsky ,1861, Aquarela


Museu Hermitage à noite, São Petersburgo, Rússia


A escadaria principal do Palácio de Inverno – fragmento do interior


A escadaria principal do Palácio do Inverno -Detalhe


Teto sobre a escadaria Jordaniana no Palácio de Inverno


O Grande Hermitage foi construído para abrigar a grandiosa coleção de arte de Catarina II


Detalhe do teto do Grande Salão Italiano


O vaso Kolivan, de 18 toneladas, em jaspe, é tão grande que este salão teve que ser construído ao seu redor


O Hall Branco – Vaso – Fim do século 18 - Sèvres


Trono no Hall São Jorge - Palácio de Inverno


Salão do Pequeno Trono - Palácio de Inverno


A Galeria de Raphael, no Grande Hermitage, apresenta fiéis reproduções de afrescos do Vaticano


Museu Hermitage - Interior


A Biblioteca de Nicholas II – Detalhe do interior


Museu Hermitage - Hall


Hall Marechal-de-Campo - Grande carruagem francesa, 1720s - Gobelins Factory - Paris


A escadaria October, vista do seu patamar


A escadaria October – Estátua da Imperatriz Alexandra Fiodorovna, 1840 - Saveliev, Dmitry do original de Carl Wichman


Museu Hermitage - Interior


O Salão Malaquita – Detalhe do interior

VIDEO: Greece!

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Beijing 2008 Stadia Plans

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[UPDATE: Received again Sep 06, 2008]

The Washcloth

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week.

Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 am.

The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare.

As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort.

So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.

I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in.

Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away. I was a little surprised when the doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?"

I didn't respond.

After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal ... Some shopping, cleaning, cooking.

After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?" I told her to get another one from the cupboard. She replied, "No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it."

Never going back to that doctor. Ever. NEVER EVER!

Are you afraid for your life?

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.

Don't be afraid that your life will end,
be afraid that it will never begin.

The Sensitive Guy

A woman meets a man in a bar. They talk; they connect; they end up leaving together. They get back to his place, and as he shows her around his apartment, she notices that one wall of his bedroom is completely filled with soft, sweet, cuddly teddy bears.

There are three shelves in the bedroom with hundreds and hundreds of cute, cuddly teddy bears, carefully placed in rows covering the entire wall! It was obvious that he had taken quite some time to lovingly arrange them and she was immediately touched by the amount of thought he had put into organizing the display.

There were small bears all along the bottom shelf, medium-sized bears covering the length of the middle shelf, and huge, enormous bears running all the way along the top shelf. She found it strange for an obviously masculine guy to have such a large a collection of Teddy Bears, but doesn't mention this to him, and actually is quite impressed by his sensitive side.

They share a bottle of wine and continue talking and, after a while, she finds herself thinking, "Oh my God! Maybe, this guy could be the one!

Maybe he could be the future father my children?" She turns to him and kisses him lightly on the lips. He responds warmly. They continue to kiss, the passion builds, and he romantically lifts her in his arms and carries her into his bedroom where they rip off each other's clothes and make hot, steamy love.

She is so overwhelmed that she responds with more passion, more creativity, more heat than she has ever known, and even did a few things she had never done with any other man.

After an intense, explosive night of raw passion with this sensitive guy, they are lying there together in the afterglow. The woman rolls over, gently strokes his chest and asks coyly, Well, how was it?

The guy gently smiles at her, strokes her cheek, looks deeply into her eyes, and says..."Help yourself to any prize from the middle shelf!"

One for the ladies

One day my housework challenged husband decided to wash his sweat-shirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, "What setting do I use on the washing machine?"

"It depends," I replied. "What does it say on your shirt?"

He yelled back, " Southampton University "

And they say blondes are dumb...

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A couple is lying in bed. The man says, "I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world."

The woman replies, "I'll miss you..."

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"It's just too hot to wear clothes today," Jack says as he stepped out of the shower, "Honey, what do you think the neighbours would think if I mowed the lawn like this?"

"Probably that I married you for your money," she replied.

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A man and his wife, now in their 60's, were celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary. On their special day a good fairy came to them and said that because they had been so good that each one of them could have one wish.

The wife wished for a trip around the world with her husband.

Whoosh! Immediately she had airline/cruise tickets in her hands.

The man wished for a female companion 30 years younger...

Whoosh...immediately he turned ninety!!!

Gotta love that fairy!

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Dear Lord,

I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; And Patience for his moods. Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, I'll beat him to death.

AMEN

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Q: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man?
A: A rumour

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Q: Why do little boys whine?
A: They are practising to be men.

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Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and calling your name?
A: You did not hold the pillow down long enough.

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Q: Why do men whistle when they are sitting on the toilet?
A: It helps them remember which end they need to wipe.

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Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder "Instruction Manuals"

When you won't want to hyphenate your name

It is a growing trend among women to hyphenate their surnames upon marriage, instead of simply replacing their own surnames with their husbands'. For instance, Miss Betty Davis becomes Mrs. Betty Davis-Brown upon marrying Mas. Robert Brown. There could be very compelling reason sometimes, however, not to hyphenate their names. Here are a few examples:

The violen strings that snap

On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight.

He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.

By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again.

The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.

Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that.

You could see him modulating, changing, re-composing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before.

When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.

He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said - not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone - "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life - not just for artists but for all of us.

Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.

So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.

The most (un)romantic two-line rhymes

These are the entirs to a Washington Post competition asking for a 2-line rhyme with the most romantic first line, but the least romantic second line:

My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife:
Marrying you screwed up my life.

I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.

Kind, intelligent, loving and hot;
This describes everything you are not.

Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss,
But I only slept with you because I was pissed.

I thought that I could love no other --
that is until I met your brother.

Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so ! are you ..
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl's
empty and so is your head.

I want to feel your sweet embrace;
But don't take that paper bag off your face.

I love your smile, your face, and your eyes ......
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!

My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe "Go to hell."

What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime.

VIDEO: Animator vs Animation 2

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Ek Taraf Uska Ghar, Ek Taraf Maikada

In dumbrava from Sibiu

To Church >>
<< To Pub

Mae kaha jau hota nahi faisla...

VIDEO: India 2005

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VIDEO: Don't Touch My Bone

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