Son of Evil Reindeer

Paul Schmidtberger, Design Flaws of the Human Condition

(via grrroyd)

(via louieblue04)

Finally launched smart.com.ph/infinity

While I really like the site’s look and feel, there’s still a ton of work to put into it

I can’t sleep because I’ve been nitpicking the content and there are still mistakes that the programmers should fix. Then again, I can’t really ask them to work now. I am hoping for the cooperation from everyone involved to work over the weekend to really fix the small things.

Then there’s the TNT site which is still a mess and it frustrates me to no end.

All I can think of now are the consequences of the calls I had to make. Sana may trabaho pa ako sa lunes.

Don’t you find that weird? Darkness is lack of light. Light is the enabler of color. White is the lack of color. Yet darkness is black. And black is all colors combined.

I found an old photo of my mama! :D

She’s the one with a bob cut. She’s been wearing that hair for.like.ever. as I have no memory of her with long hair.

(I personally can’t get over the collar of the dress and how the belt is perfectly aligned with the hem!)

My mom’s idea of a free time does not involve any house work or shopping. For the very few times that she finds herself free from dealing with over-excited brides and their crazy mother in laws, she makes dresses for whoever is willing to wear them.

Here’s my little cousin - so young to care, still young to enjoy the craziness of it all. At two, she already knows the difference between cream and white, of midnight blue from royal blue (she says, “loyal blu.”)

Me thinks this is why my mom’s been asking for grand kids from her sons. Mama, goodluck. Haha

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)

A sweet lesson on patience. 

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up 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 1940’s 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, 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 to be 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 in a soft voice..’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.

LUHA!!!

(Source: mishalmoorebloggyblog, via bornbygenetics)