Happy Vampires

“Home Alone” is a hilarious comedy starring 10-year-old Macaulay Culkin as a boy who’s family accidentally forget to bring him along for Christmas vacation. Macaulay does a superb job in the movie, which is thoroughly entertaining, especially the part in which he foils two burglars who attempt to rob his house.

Kevin McCalister (Culkin) is the youngest of several kids of a large family in Chicago. Kevin is frustrated because he older brother continuously picks on him and he gets a lot of grief from his parents and the rest of his siblings. After getting into a fight with his mother, Kevin tells her that he wishes he’d never see any of them again.

The next morning, Kevin gets his wish as his family accidentally leave him behind as they leave for Paris. After realizing that his family is missing, he thinks he’d made them all disappear. Although a bit disturbed at first, he soon becomes overjoyed, realizing he’s now free to do whatever he wants.

Kevin proves to be very resourceful, shopping and cleaning for himself. However, he has to deal with some big fears of his, including the heater in the basement and a scary neighbor Marley (Heard), whom he believes to be a killer at first.

Kevin’s biggest problem turns out to be two burglars (Pesci and Stern), who are attempting to rob every home in the neighborhood. They prove no match for Kevin, however, who does everything he can think of to protect the house, including making the doorknob red hot, dropping a hot iron on one of their heads, and dousing the other one with glue and feathers. In the end, once the burglars capture Kevin, Marley rescues him by knocking them both on the head with a shovel. Macaulay calls the police on the burglars from his tree house and they soon come to arrest the burglars.

Kevin begins to miss his family, but they soon return and he becomes happily reunited with them.

yourmoviepal.com/movies/Daves-Top-Movies-List/Home-Alone.html yourmoviepal.com/movies/Daves-Top-Movies-List/Home-Alone.html Home Alone - Dave’s Top Movies

Office gift exchanges can sometimes be a painful experience.

What happens if you draw the name of that one person in your office that makes your skin crawl? Or worse, what if you make the skin crawl of the person who drew your name?

Gifts are suppose to be from the heart. How can it come from the heart if that person makes your heart shrivel up faster than a vienna sausage that’s been left in the sun?

I enjoy the art of gift giving - and it is an art.

Giving the perfect gift requires thought, time and effort. The perfect gift says, ‘I know who you are and I celebrate you.’

What then happens to the gift-giving-challenged? Better yet, what happens to the receiver of those gifts?

My husband is the worst gift giver… ever.

It never fails to amaze me how someone who has lived with you for years on end, can just not get it. (We just began our 10th year of marital bliss.)

I have come to dread special occasions. My last birthday was the worst.

On the morning of my birthday, my husband sat me down on the couch and proudly approached with an arm full of gifts. The previous year’s birthday gift had been a big fat nothing. (Husbands take note: never give your wife nothing on her birthday - unless you hate her and intentionally want her to feel totally worthless.) Seeing him approach with the gifts, I felt a tinge of hope.

With the expectant look of a puppy searching for a new home, my husband sat in front of me and beckoned that I begin opening my gifts.

I picked up the first small package and lightly shook it back and forth. My husband prodded, “Just open it.”

Removing the wrapping revealed a box of staples - the kind for a staple gun that you would use around the house.

“So is this my new staple gun?” I asked, patting a square package sitting on the table. I was excited. I had been wanting one.

My husband got a puzzled look on his face, “Huh? No.”

The opening of the square box produced a small puzzle of white kittens, sitting in a row, on a pink background. It was the perfect gift for a puzzle enthusiast or a 10-year-old girl. Last time I checked, I was neither.

My hopes were fading but I forged ahead and picked up the next one. The slim, flat object turned out to be a package of bicycle reflectors.

Not owning a bike, and following the natural line of progression, I proclaimed, “Wow! You got me a bike??”

“Huh? No.”

Okaaaaaay.

This had to be going somewhere. Didn’t it?

I continued opening.

An air freshener in the shape of a yellow foot. The kind you hang from your rear view mirror and can buy at any AM PM Mini Mart for a buck fifty.

“That’s so you won’t get sick when you ride in my car.” (My husband being a smoker who has been regulated to only smoking outside on the deck or in his truck.)

A palm sized book of kitten photos.

“You like kittens, right?”

A box of ant stakes.

“You know, cuz of the ants.” (Very thoughtful, being that it was summer and I had been battling to keep the ants out of the kitchen.)

To his credit, the last gift I opened was The Best of Chris Farley from Saturday Night Live. Ok, I could live with that one.

As I sat there with my assortment of gifts and my state of shock, I couldn’t help but wonder just how much this man despised me or if a request for cash would be rude.

When Christmas came, I attempted to install a “no gifts″ policy. Emphasizing that it just wasn′t in the budget - and truthfully, I couldn′t survive ant stakes under the Christmas tree.

But my husband insisted, “It’s Christmas. I have to get you something.”

Christmas day arrived and my husband handed me an envelope containing a gift certificate to Borders Books.

I hugged him.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Copyright (c) 2005 Maureen Valdes Marsh all rights reserved

Maureen Valdes Marsh is a former newspaper reporter. She currently writes a semi-punctual weekly column on her website called, “Musings of Vintage Grace.” She is the author of the upcoming book for Collectors Press, “Be There or Be Square: Fashion’s Flare in the 1970s”, set for release Fall ‘06. You can read more of Maureen’s writing on her website, Vintage Grace by visiting vintagegrace.com vintagegrace.com.

If you want to play real poker, have a variety of games to choose from, and play against multiple opponents, then you need to try a multiplayer poker site on the internet. At a multiplayer poker site you can play any time you want and you can do it without leaving home. You’ll have a lot of choices available to you including a wide variety of poker games. These include such games as Omaha Poker, Stud Poker and the highly popular Texas Hold’em. You can also choose to play limit, no limit, or pot limit poker. There are seats available at the tables whenever you’re ready and each table can accommodate up to nine players.

If you want even more action you can try your hand at a tournament. The tournament formats include single table and multi-table tournaments. At a good multiplayer poker website you can choose your stakes and play for the amount you want from low to high stakes. Buy-ins for tournaments are always reasonable and there are multiple cash prizes available for the top players. At a multiplayer poker site you can also find some special tournaments such as Rebuys and Turbo Tournaments. You can even play in a satellite tournament where for a small buy-in you can play to win a free seat in a big money tournament.

Thousands of people every day are enjoying the fun, the excitement, and the convenience of gambling at a multiplayer doylesroom.com/” title=”Poker Room poker site. You can be one of them. You can register for free and begin playing immediately. It just takes a few clicks of your mouse to get you into the action.

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Every person has a tendency to accumulate something either intentionally or unintentionally. Some people buy objects or items that they deem important or valuable while others are lucky to just accidentally come by several items of the same kind.

Either way, a person who has in his possession several items of the same kind or classification can already be called a collector. Some people collect dolls, memorabilia, toys, ceramics, guns, and other items. Other items that are very good collection pieces because of their historical and financial value are swords.

The fiercest and most fine-looking swords that were responsible for wars and bloodshed were those from the Orient. Thus, a sword collection without those beautiful Oriental swords would be incomplete.

One of the most notable Oriental swords that should be included in any sword collection is the sword of the Shinto Katana Samurai. An original would be quite expensive especially if it is in good condition but it is very unusual for such an original sword to be found these days.

The only available option for sword collectors is the chance of owning a modern version of the Shinto Katana Samurai which would cost no less than six hundred dollars. But the ancestors of former Oriental Samurais may just have an original Katana Samurai stashed in their basements so collectors should try to make contact these people if they really want to own the original thing.

Another sword type that is worth inclusion in every sword collection is the bamboo stick katanas which were used as an alternative by the Samurais in the 1860s. This type of sword, which sells for no less than five hundred dollars, came to life after the banning of the carrying of swords publicly. This invention shows the ingenuity of the Orientals who found a way to incorporate a samurai blade at the end pf every bamboo cane used as a walking stick.

While original swords command a very high price, this would not mean that copycats or reproductions are already priced reasonably. There are sword reproductions that are still priced highly starting from a thousand dollars.

Europeans also have their own swords which were paired with a shield. Thus, the design of the sword is such that it allows for the grip of one hand while the other hand is eyed for the shield.

Knives and Swords make wonderful collections, ones that are filled with history and events. Learn about knife.zupatips.com/Collectible_Knife_and_Sword.html Swords Collecting and knives at knife.zupatips.com/ knife.zupatips.com

How Tattoo Machine works and what Tattoo Techniques are used by tattooist? Read below to find out.

Most people think tattoo machines just like sewing machines - rotating needles up and down with hollow needles, but it is not true.

Actually, tattoo machine is essentially an electromagnet powered by a variable power supply. The artist dips the needs into a small cap which has been filled with pigment (ink) from a squeeze bottle. There are from one for some outlines and fine work to many bunched needles tight together for shading in a given tattoo machine. The needles are soldered to a bar which is attached to the electromagnet.

Whenpower is applied to the handheldmagnet/bar combination, the pigment-coated needles vibrate together up and down thousands of times per minute.

As the needles pierce the skin, the colored pigments are injected under the skin, between the permanent bottom layer and the surface layer which is constantly dying off and being replaced by fresh skin cells.

The tattooing technique of placing the pigment at the right depth is very important to the quality of the tattoo. If the needles penetratetoo deeply, the pigment will mix with body fluid and cause the color to spread. If the pigment is not placed deep enough, the tattoo will fade and come out prematurely as new skin emerges from the lower layers.

tattoo-symbol-design.com/ tattoo-symbol-design.com/ - the starting place for exploring and learning all about tattoos, tattoo ideas, tattoo design concept, tattoo supplies and equipments.

When I was at school we visited many battlefields in Belgium and France, it was a powerful experience to see the countless of rows of graves. This is short piece I wrote on Christmas Day, 2004. It was inspired by a BBC TV programme that I had seen a few weeks before.

Christmas Truce

By Christmas Eve 1914, many 1000s of soldiers had already died on the Western front. The soldiers were living in difficult circumstances; the trenches were cold and wet and more poignantly the memory of fallen comrades was vivid in their minds. However despite this harsh situation the soldiers tried their best to hold impromptu Christmas celebrations. To raise morale the soldiers sang Christmas carols. In fact they could hear their enemies also singing, from the other side of no man’s land. Being buoyed with the Christmas spirit, soldiers made impromptu signs wishing their “enemies” a happy Christmas.

On the next day British soldiers were startled to see their German counterparts walking unarmed across No man’s land. Rifles were reluctantly drawn but nobody was of a mind to use them. After a tense couple of exchanges, men started to leave the trenches in order to meet their sworn enemies, in the middle of no man’s land. Both sides started to chat and since it was Christmas started to exchange gifts.

Soon the opposing armies were freely mingling in the middle of no man’s land which had so recently seen such great devastation and death. Senior officers were alerted and were shocked to see their men socialising with the enemy. But the senior officers saw no reason to stop the festivities and often brought more liquor to fuel the festivities. Unofficially commanding officers agreed upon a temporary truce.

For the 24 hours of Christmas there would be no hostilities and both sides would have an opportunity to bury their dead. These men had been encouraged to hate the other side. However on getting to know their enemy on personal terms, they found they shared a common Christian background and actually had little appetite for fighting.

Scenes such as this spontaneously arose on many parts of the Western front. Up to 50% of British and German front line troops joined the biggest mass desertion of any war. Famously, impromptu games of football were organised in the middle of no man’s land. Despite the massive scale of this desertion it took along time to filter through to the top generals. They were horrified to learn their men had been
so willing to “befriend their enemy”. Even after Christmas day, when the unofficial truce was over, there was very little fighting. When you have got to know your enemy and exchanged gifts it is hard to then try and kill that person. Soldiers would waste many rounds shooting high into the air.

Unfortunately this was never to repeated. The Generals would never again allow such a “weakening” of their men’s morale. However the

Many years ago I wrote the following poem about television. TV has not improved. Every year I tell myself that the programs can’t sink any lower surely we have reached the very bottom of the sewer, and every year the experts and sexpervs prove me wrong! I’m constantly reminded of that verse in the Bible, “Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness” (Isaiah 5:20). Yet another aspect of this problem is the waste of time watching this drivel. It reminds me of yet another favorite verse, “The noble man makes noble plans, and by noble deeds he stands” (Isaiah 32:8 NIV). The noble person takes Philippians 4:8 as his/her mantra: “Whatever is noble…right…pure…lovely…admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.” What absorbs our mind sooner or later determines our speech and our actions. Watching TrashVision too much of the time produces thought patterns that can hardly be considered worthy, much less Christian.

“And ye, in any wise keep yourselves from the accursed thing, lest ye make yourselves accursed…” (Joshua 6:18); “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil” (Matthew 6:13); “I made a covenant with my eyes not to look lustfully at a girl” (Job 31:1).

On a hazy night in ‘46
Satan met with his unholy tribe;
Now listen, you devils, he said with glee,
The entire world is about to transcribe.
They’ve invented a box they call TV;
Its shape is square, it has pictures and sound.
They practically kneel to its image;
Those fools think it’s really profound!

Can you imagine what this means to us?
Why, we’ll hardly need to lift our forks!
They don′t know how slick we are -
Those dolts believe we’re a bunch of dorks!
I can hardly believe this stroke of luck.
We’ll load the Board of Directables
We’ll convince the world that evil is good
And have them think we’re respectables.

Dear me, Satan purred, I can hardly wait
To twist and turn and rationalize;
National Enquirer will have to fold -
We’ll steal the rights to sensationalize!
There’s one big fly in my appointment, though -
Some folks are saying I started this!
How can they accuse me of such a deed?
I’ve always treasoned with a wily kiss.

Only the foolish would be so blatant;
Why, I even cringe at some of the trash;
Surely we don’t need to throw it so hard…
We want them to fall, but not with a crash.
At first we’ll stress the family virtues:
Honesty, faith, and all that stuff;
We’ll give them new minds and hearts and goals
All pumped and primed with a lot of fluff.

And then we′ll start undressing the angels;
Stress that nudity is artistic fare.
We’ll make those goodies feel out of place.
Good heavens (or hell!), why be so square!
So do your worst, you little devils -
Make sure there’s a box in every home.
We can’t let slip this glorious chance
To write their names in our swelling tome!

“Back to the Future Part III” is the third and final installment of the Back to the Future series. Like the other two films, it stars Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd. This film also stars Mary Steenburgen as Clara Clayton, the Doc’s love interests whom he meets in 1885.

“Back to the Future Part III” is sort of a sci-fi western film. It picks up where part 2 left off, after Marty gets a letter from the Doc from 1885. The younger Doc in 1955 teams up with Marty to recover the DeLorean from underground, where the older Doc had buried it. Doc must fix the faulty time circuit with 1955 technology. He’s then ready to let Marty travel back to 1985, but much to his horror, Marty sees the Doc’s tombstone from 1885 in the cemetery. They take pictures of the tombstone and rush to the library and discover that the older Doc had been shot by Buford (Mad Dog) Tannen, Biff’s great grandfather, over a matter of 80 dollars. Marty decides to go back to 1885 to save him.

When Marty goes back, the first thing he encounters is a tribe of Indians on horses, charging at him with bows and arrows, followed by the Cavalry charging after them. Marty stops the DeLorean and hides in a cave, only to find it inhabited by a bear. Marty then discovers that the fuel tank has been ruptured by an arrow. Marty wanders into town on foot, encountering his great grandparents along the way, who let him stay at their ranch.

Marty encounters Buford and his gang of outlaws at the local saloon, who harrass him. He runs away from them and they nearly hang him at the new courthouse, but the Doc finds him and saves him. Marty then tells the Doc of his fate, showing him the photo of the tombstone. The Doc tells Marty that the DeLorean can’t run without gasoline, which has all leaked out. The two struggle to find a way to get the DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour. Eventually they realize that they can attach it to the train and have it pushed up to that speed.

The Doc meets Clara Clayton, a young schoolteacher, and becomes immediately infatuated with her. He saves her from falling into the ravine after a snake spooks her horse.

On Saturday night, Marty and the Doc attend a local dance festival. There they encounter Buford again. Buford insists that the Doc owes him $80, but the Doc refuses to pay. This results in a brawl, following which Marty challenges Buford to a dual on Monday.

Marty thinks he’s saved the Doc from being shot but soon realizes that he’s likely to be the one to get killed, especially when he sees the name on the picture of the tombstone changing. The Doc starts to change his mind about going back with Marty since he’s in love with Clara and doesn’t want to leave her behind, but Marty convinces him to go back with him. The Doc tells Clara that he’s from the future, but she doesn’t believe him and feels terribly heartbroken, as does the Doc, who spends all night in the saloon.

The next morning, the dual is to be fought at 8AM. Marty manages to revive the Doc from passing out on a glass of whiskey. He tries to back out of the dual, but Buford insists on shooting him anyway. Luckily, Marty has protected himself by wearing a bullet-proof vest made from the oven door.

Now Marty and the Doc are ready to return home. They hijack a train and burn some special fuel to get it up to 88 miles per hour. Clara learns of the truth, finds the Doc, and goes after him. She manages to climb on board the train. Once the Doc sees her, he wants to stop the train, but they’ve already passed the point of no return, so they must move on. Luckily, the Doc has kept the hoverboard from 2015, which he uses to rescue her from the train. They fly off together just as the train reaches 88 miles per hour, by which time Marty has managed to get into the DeLorean and be transported into the future as the train plummets into the ravine.

Marty arrives safely in 1985 on a railroad bridge which has been built since the disaster. Marty barely manages to jump out of the car as an oncoming train strikes and demolishes it, destroying the time machine.

Marty meets up with his girlfriend Jenny, who tells him of a vivid dream she’d had in which she’d traveled to the future, seen her future home, and Marty had gotten fired. Soon she doubts it was a dream, however, especially after Marty’s classmate Needles challenges him to a race in his new truck. Luckily, Marty backs out of the race at the last minute and then realizes that if he’d raced Needles, he would’ve hit a Rolls Royce and his future would’ve turned out much worse. Jenny looks at a fax from the future she’d kept which says “YOU’RE FIRED!” and sees the text disappear. Marty then tells her the truth about the Doc and his time machine and takes her to the spot on the railroad where it had been destroyed. Then, much to both of their surprises, the railroad gates come down with no train in sight. Next they see a large hovering train engine with wings materializing in the air and coming to rest on the tracks. The Doc and Clara greet Marty and Jenny, along with their two new sons, Jules and Verne. The Doc also presents Marty with the gift of a photo of both of them in front of the courthouse clock, taken in 1885.

yourmoviepal.com/movies/daves-best-100-movies/Back-to-the-Future-Part-3.html Back to the Future Part III - Dave’s Top Movies

Saturday night my son opened the freezer door, a frozen banana fell out, smashed him on the toe and then my daughter bumped her head on the freezer door when she stood up quickly after retrieving the banana from the floor.

I submit to you that there is no greater window into the complicated dance that is marriage than deconstructing that small, relatively insignificant event.

In the twelve years and 313 days that I have been married to my wife, she has taken hundreds of overripe bananas and stored them in our freezers with the intention of someday making bread out of them. Sadly that day has never come.

I will admit that I am partly to blame, because when the opportunity to be alone in the kitchen presents itself - I surreptitiously remove the frozen bananas and bury them in the garbage. For you see, I was raised to believe that neither fruit or for that matter, deceased ball players such as Ted Williams, should be placed in a freezer once they are past their prime.

Conversely, my wife, who came from a very large family, was raised to believe that overripe fruit should be frozen, not wasted. Her mother taught her to do this, albeit a woman who also stored bananas for decades and never made anything out of them - although legend has it that one was once used as an emergency blackjack during a family function that went awry.

Which one of us is right? Aha! All couples on the dance floor, please.

In the pursuit of marital bliss, one must learn to suppress opinions pertaining to a spouse’s adherence to particular practices, beliefs or traditions - no matter how ridiculous you think they may be.

Why? Why shouldn′t two people who love and trust each other share their true feelings about such matters? A dumb question, but since I asked it –I’ll answer it just this once. Because for every one silly or irritating habit or idiosyncrasy you can attribute to your spouse - your spouse can come up with two to attribute to you. It’s like the arms race and money spent on defense is money not spent on books, a habit of mine my wife believes borders on obsession - although of course she’s never said it to my face. Still, a man can sense these things… but so what? That’s a whole lot better than actually being confronted with it!

I will admit that very early in our marriage, when I was still naïve, I poked fun at my wife’s rationale for freezing mushy bananas rather than tossing them out. Her ice cold, steely eyed response? “I don′t like to waste food, and I′m going to make banana bread with them.” I never mentioned it again.

Since that time, I will state under oath that not once in our twelve years and 313 days together has my wife walked into the kitchen, opened the freezer door and yelled, “What the heck happened to the bananas I had in the freezer? I was going to make bread today!”

Now I can understand that. I′ve been “researching” colors to paint our house for six years now and haven′t even begun to narrow down the range of possibilities contained within the classification of “off white”. It isn′t easy –the color of your house tells people a lot about who you are. Right now, it’s telling them that I′m lazy but I can live with that.

As we attempted to console our injured children who were howling and hopping about the room in an unintentional homage to the Three Stooges, I have to admit that I was a little perturbed that a frozen banana, of a certain age, (a phrase used to gracefully describe people who are ancient), had been the source of the commotion. I said to my wife, “What is it with you and this obsession with freezing bananas?”

But not out loud, of course.

Instead I said, “We have to find a better spot to store those bananas so they don’t fall out like that again.”

She searched my face for signs of sarcasm and when there were none to be found, she smiled and set about placing the bananas in a Tupperware container.

With calm restored and the pain of injuries subsiding, I announced that I was going to take a drive over to the bookstore and have a look around. My wife said, “What is it with you and your obsession with buying all these books you never find time to read?”

She said it out loud. Can you believe that?

John Hartnett is the owner of Early Bird Publishing, a manufacturer of all occasion humorous greeting cards. He can be reached at mailto:johnhartnett@earlybirdpublishing.com johnhartnett@earlybirdpublishing.com

I recently got my youngest son a mandolin lesson. He has never played the mandolin before but I think he really liked the experience and we were both very excited about it. I should admit that I have always pushed him a little harder to play music. I didn’t know if it would happen or not, though. The point is that the whole family plays. My wife is a fiddler, I play the accordion, and my older son plays harmonica and guitar, my daughter - the banjo. I figured if my son took a mandolin lesson he might like it and start practicing. That’s how we could all make music together. But there was a time when my son was not willing to listen to me and he refused to have a mandolin lesson.

The one type of music he only liked was rock and roll. I like rock and I have played it in the past but it is by no means the type of music which could teach you how to play with soul. I grew up fiddling around with an electric guitar. I didn’t care if I was good or bad at it I only wanted to play a few chords loudly. It all comes down to ego and raucous noise. Mandolin teaches tenderness but my son didn’t even want to hear about a guitar lesson, to say nothing of a mandolin lesson.

However, one night it all changed. My whole family got together. The oldest son is a good harmonica player and a nice guitarist as well but he is kind of shy to play with others. He is 16 and just got in love for the first time. I remember seeing him coming back from his first serious date with that girl. He was really happy and in a great mood. He suddenly picked up the harp and started to play a tune.

The rest of us joined him one by one and finally there were all of us playing together. It really worked we had never played so well until that moment. Of course, my little son didn′t play then. He was juts watching at us wide-eyed. The following day he wanted to give the mandolin lesson a try. I found a teacher for him but he was impatient to start the lesson immediately. As I can pick a little, I gave him his first mandolin lesson myself.

Morgan Hamilton offers expert advice and great tips regarding all aspects concerning music Get the information you are seeking now by visiting mymusicreport.com/music–more/music/the-magic-mandolin-lesson.html Magic Mandolin Lesson