Church Bulletins

From My InBox:

Church Ladies With typewriters. . .

They're Back! Those wonderful Church Bulletins! Thank God for church ladies with typewriters. These sentences (with all the BLOOPERS) actually appeared in church bulletins or were announced in church services:

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The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.

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The sermon this morning: 'Jesus Walks on the Water.' The sermon tonight: 'Searching for Jesus.'

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Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.

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Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say 'Hell' to someone who doesn't care much about you.

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Don't let worry kill you off - let the Church help.

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Miss Charlene Mason sang 'I will not pass this way again,' giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.

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For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.

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Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.

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Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.

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A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow..

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At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be 'What Is Hell?' Come early and listen to our choir practice.

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Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.

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Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.

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Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.

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The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment and gracious hostility.

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Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM - prayer and medication to follow.

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The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.

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This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.

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Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 AM. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. Is done.

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The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the Congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.

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Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.

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The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 PM . The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.

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Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.

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The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new campaign slogan last Sunday: 'I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours.

Ladies, beware when you are at shopping complex's toilet

Story not verified but better safe than sorry.

From My InBox:

Dear ladies

beware of the latest tactic of bag-snatch.

Last Wednesday 21.07.10 @ I 8.15 p.m, I was at Berjaya Times Square toilet.

Someone quietly walked in  & I thought it was my daughter trying to frighten me. I was expecting my daughter to put her foot thru under the door but what I saw was a man's shoe.

Immediately he jumped up & tried to grab something from the "hanger" on my door. I screamed out of fear as I suddenly saw a pair of black hands reaching in (Indian man)  & he left. When the security guards came, he was gone. The guard told me that on the same day afternoon a lady lost her bag that way.  (I didnt loose my bag coz I did not hang it on the hook)

My neighbor told me that 2 weeks ago, a malay lady's bag was snatched by a man who followed her into the Ladies toilet.

pls beware when you are alone in the toilet & do not hang your bag on the hook of the toilet door.

Understanding English grammar

Looking out for interesting way to pick up English grammar?  Try this.

If this Indian teacher has generated an interest to learn more, check out English Grammar for more lessons.

A NOVEL EXPERIENCE

From My InBox:

He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room.  Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone.  He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear.

    "Just relax."

    Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat.

    I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care.  His touch was so experienced, so sure.  When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes.  My pulse was pounding.
I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage.  And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.

    Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders and slid them down my tingling spine.

    Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant.  This is a man, I thought.  A man used to taking charge.  A man not used to taking 'No' for an answer.  A man who would tell me what he wanted.  A man who would look into my soul and say . . . .


    "Okay ma'am, you can board your flight now

TAXI

From My InBox:

This is a lovely touching story.
TAXI

I arrived at the address where someone had requested a taxi. I honked
but no one came out. I honked again, nothing. So I walked to the door
and knocked. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could
hear something being dragged across the floor
 
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood
before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil
pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
 
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no
one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with
sheets.
 
There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the
counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and
glassware.
 
'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase
to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and
we walked slowly toward the curb.
 
She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I
just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother
treated'.. 'Oh, you're such a good boy', she said. When we got in the
cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, 'Could you drive through
downtown?'
 
'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly. 'Oh, I don't mind,'
she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice'.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't
have any family left,' she continued. 'The doctor says I don't have
very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
'What route would you like me to take?' I asked. For the next two
hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she
had once worked as an elevator operator.
 
We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived
when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as
a girl.
 
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or
corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the  horizon, she suddenly said,
'I'm tired. Let's go now'
 
We drove in silence to the address she had given me.. It was a low
building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed
under a portico.
 
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were
solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been
expecting her.
 
I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman
was already seated in a wheelchair.
 
'How much do I owe you?' she asked, reaching into her purse.
'Nothing,' I said.

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.
 
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me
tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said.
'Thank you.'
 
I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.
Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I
didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost
in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if
that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end
his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once,
then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done
anything more important in my life.
 
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great
moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped
in what others may consider a small one

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.
 
You won't get any big surprise in 10 days if you send this to ten
people. But, you might help make the world a little kinder and more
compassionate by sending it on.
 
Thank you, my friend...
 
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might
as well dance.

WOMEN WHO KNOW THEIR PLACE

From My InBox:

Barbara Walters, of 20/20, did a story on gender roles in Kabul ,
Afghanistan , several years before the Afghan conflict.

She noted that women customarily walked five paces behind their husbands.

She recently returned to Kabul and observed that women still walk behind
their husbands. Despite the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime, the women now seem happy to maintain the old custom.

Ms Walters approached one of the Afghani women and asked, 'Why do you now
seem happy with an old custom that you once tried so desperately to change?'

The woman looked Ms Walters straight in the eyes, and without hesitation
said, “Land mines.”

Moral of the story is (no matter what language you speak or where you go):
BEHIND EVERY MAN, THERE'S A SMART WOMAN (OR MAYBE THREE!)