| "Now dear Christians, some of you pray night and day to be branches of the true Vine; you pray to be made all over in the image of Christ. If so, you must be like him in giving..."though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor.:
Objection 1. "My money is my own."
Answer: Christ might have said, "my blood is my own, my life is my own"...then where should we have been?
Objection 2. "The poor are undeserving."
Answer: Christ might have said, "They are wicked rebels...shall I lay down my life for these? I will give to the good angels." But no, he left the ninety-nine, and came after the lost. He gave his blood for the undeserving.
Objection 3. "The poor may abuse it."
Answer: Christ might have said the same; yea, with far greater truth. Christ knew that thousands would trample his blood under their feet; that most would despise it; that many would make it an excuse for sinning more; yet he gave his own blood.
Oh, my dear Christians! If you would be like Christ, give much, give often, give freely, to the vile and poor, the thankless and the undeserving. Christ is glorious and happy and so will you be. It is not your money I want, but your happiness. Remember his own word, "It is more blessed to give than to receive."
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| MargarineKing: Oh man! I was supposed to make money off of my pastor's baby!
Blooki: Weren't you supposed to wish your dad a happy birthday too?
MargarineKing: Oh yeah! (pause) I guess I'll do that first.
MargarineKing: (dials on cell phone and waits)
MargarineKing: (leaving a voicemail) Hi dad. I'm calling to say happy birthday. OK, bye.
MargarineKing: OK. Now how does Google Spreadsheet work?
MargarineKing: Do you need anything tonight?
Blooki: I don't know. Do I?
MargarineKing: What would you like?
Blooki: Your clothes off.
MargarineKing: (blank stare)
Blooki: (look of realization) Oh... whoops. I didn't mean it like that.
(note: his laundry was on my sleeping area)
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| Beverly Hills Ninja
2nd row, far left starting @ the 2:09 mark.
Yes, that's 9th grade me.
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| 12-y-o Boy: How old are you?
Me: Guess.
12-y-o Boy: 17.
Me: Higher.
12-y-o Boy: 20.
...
...
...
12-y-o Boy: 27!
Me: Lower.
12-y-o Boy: 26!
Me: There you go.
12-y-o Boy: That's so sad.
(Scene: Circle of children gathered to play Taboo)
10-y-o Boy: It's... NOT RIGHT! And it's... it's... it's... way out there. (gestures to what seems to be a very large nigh unfathomable distance)
(other children futilely guess at many incorrect answers)
10-y-o Boy: C'mon, it's not right! ::giggles:: It's a bad thing!
Time-keeping Boy: TIME!
The answer was Uranus.
(Scene: In the parking lot saying and hugging our goodbyes as we break for the winter)
9-y-o Girl: Wait, wait, wait, I know how guys hug!
She extends her hand, we shake, slide our fingers back, interlock our non-thumb fingers, pull in our forearms, bump our chests while simultaneously reaching our left arms around each other for a momentary hug all in one fluid motion on both of our parts.
Well what do you know, she does know.
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