Oh! Hang on ladies, grab the tongs and retrieve your bras from the furnace, for another report has entered the fray.
This one concerns that most common of jousts between the sexes - map reading. It turns out men, despite the standing joke of them NEVER asking for directions so convinced they are of their current position (even if they're lost), actually CAN read maps better than women.
Men are at the top of the list of those tested, women at the bottom, I'm afraid and in between are all the variations of same. I.e. gay men, gay women and bisexuals. No mention of trannies, crossdressers etc (presumably cause it's considered they're already...confused and mapreading might be just too much for their already disturbed minds lol).
So, where to from here then? From my perspective, I have worked as a courier often and can read maps/street directories with ease - while driving, drinking coffee AND rolling a cigarette but then I'm Captain Fantastic so...y'know...
I'm sure there must be SOME women out there can do so as well. I don't actually know any but they MUST be somewhere, right? No?
Thursday, May 31, 2007
CONSULT YOUR...
I find this highly amusing.
I first heard this term on the radio - could have been television, it's been going a while. Then I read it today.
Todays variation was 'your broker'. In an article by someone. He spoke of 'your broker' like it was a consistent in the reader's life. Like we all had these people just loitering ready to respond immediately to our every whim. And with the obnoxious addition of sounding like a wanker as you excuse yourself from company to talk to 'your lifestyle attendant' or some other such nonsense.
Your doctor, another.
Your financial advisor (not hard to do without one of those when you've f**k all money pardon my French!)
Your medical professional. (I wonder could this mean a cleaner who WORKS in a hospital?)
It's a bit like 'your pilot, your chauffeur, your cook.
...your sausage turner, your tongs holder...
My question is - who has such a thing. A 'your professional' as if he's on retainer, just sitting around waiting to do the master's bidding.
I went to A dentist the other day. Unfortunately for me, I had to suit HIS time. Because he's not MY dentist. I did call him and demand he race round to me. He declined. Fifteen calls and a restraining order later, I decided I didn't have a 'your professional'.
Your doctor, your baker, your candlestick maker...
I did have a 'coffee shop girl' for a while, does that count?
I first heard this term on the radio - could have been television, it's been going a while. Then I read it today.
Todays variation was 'your broker'. In an article by someone. He spoke of 'your broker' like it was a consistent in the reader's life. Like we all had these people just loitering ready to respond immediately to our every whim. And with the obnoxious addition of sounding like a wanker as you excuse yourself from company to talk to 'your lifestyle attendant' or some other such nonsense.
Your doctor, another.
Your financial advisor (not hard to do without one of those when you've f**k all money pardon my French!)
Your medical professional. (I wonder could this mean a cleaner who WORKS in a hospital?)
It's a bit like 'your pilot, your chauffeur, your cook.
...your sausage turner, your tongs holder...
My question is - who has such a thing. A 'your professional' as if he's on retainer, just sitting around waiting to do the master's bidding.
I went to A dentist the other day. Unfortunately for me, I had to suit HIS time. Because he's not MY dentist. I did call him and demand he race round to me. He declined. Fifteen calls and a restraining order later, I decided I didn't have a 'your professional'.
Your doctor, your baker, your candlestick maker...
I did have a 'coffee shop girl' for a while, does that count?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
MARRIED...WITH CHILDREN
In an earlier post, the one entitled 'idiot box', I made reference to the hilarious TV show, Married with Children. I expected a roar of disapproval as the hoardes of ladies started screaming as to how it belittled their sisters.
While I wait for such objections, I'd like to mention, perhaps one of the funniest lines from the show, nay perhaps all shows.
The scene is Al Bundy sittting at his table in the kitchen doing what Al typically does - wondering when someone was going to shoot him and put him out of his misery.
Peggy, the redheaded wife, bounces through the door after playing havoc with Al's credit card at the stores, with a light and breezy, 'hey Al, y'miss me?'
Al slowly lifts his head from his hands, slowly turns to Peg and replies, 'with every bullet so far!'
I hope I've done it justice because the actual scene has me in pieces every time. And if I remember rightly, the audience errupted also (though, American show have a thing called canned laughter which isn't necessarily from a given gag, so who knows).
What a sensational retort. I swear, it puts this line into the realms of the greats. Whomever's responsible for penning it should take a bow for it is indeed, priceless.
With every bullet so far. Hohohohoho...classic.
While I wait for such objections, I'd like to mention, perhaps one of the funniest lines from the show, nay perhaps all shows.
The scene is Al Bundy sittting at his table in the kitchen doing what Al typically does - wondering when someone was going to shoot him and put him out of his misery.
Peggy, the redheaded wife, bounces through the door after playing havoc with Al's credit card at the stores, with a light and breezy, 'hey Al, y'miss me?'
Al slowly lifts his head from his hands, slowly turns to Peg and replies, 'with every bullet so far!'
I hope I've done it justice because the actual scene has me in pieces every time. And if I remember rightly, the audience errupted also (though, American show have a thing called canned laughter which isn't necessarily from a given gag, so who knows).
What a sensational retort. I swear, it puts this line into the realms of the greats. Whomever's responsible for penning it should take a bow for it is indeed, priceless.
With every bullet so far. Hohohohoho...classic.
Well ladies, get the bras off and throw them in the fire. Stand atop that mountain and scream at the top of your voices, "I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR".
Because it turns out, ,an Australian poll just released says 60% of MEN agree with the claim that women are 'tougher' when they are sick; that men by comparison revert to babies.
It further claimed that while men would expect to be looked after by their mummies, oops, I mean wives/girlfriends, the mighty woman would perservere and carry on regardless.
The radio talkshow host who made this revelation, a Steve Price, known for his tiny-ness, objected half-heartedly in the way men have become prone to doing. His guest, Ms Chris Bath, a TV newsreader, replied in a nicely condescending way. I could almost hear her pat the wee man on the head with a calming "there, there, baby, it's alright".
I switched the radio off after that as the male of the species was castrated a little more.
And this isn't chauvinism or anti-feminism; I know strong women, many of them and frankly I don't put much stock in such statistical information. It's really an individual thing, I think. I, for example don't whine when I'm sick - just see it a an excuse to spend the day on the sofa under a blanket, looking after myself. Or, more often, I'll biff some drugs into me and ignore it.
But this weak and pathetic modern man?
Thank GOD I'm not one of them!
Because it turns out, ,an Australian poll just released says 60% of MEN agree with the claim that women are 'tougher' when they are sick; that men by comparison revert to babies.
It further claimed that while men would expect to be looked after by their mummies, oops, I mean wives/girlfriends, the mighty woman would perservere and carry on regardless.
The radio talkshow host who made this revelation, a Steve Price, known for his tiny-ness, objected half-heartedly in the way men have become prone to doing. His guest, Ms Chris Bath, a TV newsreader, replied in a nicely condescending way. I could almost hear her pat the wee man on the head with a calming "there, there, baby, it's alright".
I switched the radio off after that as the male of the species was castrated a little more.
And this isn't chauvinism or anti-feminism; I know strong women, many of them and frankly I don't put much stock in such statistical information. It's really an individual thing, I think. I, for example don't whine when I'm sick - just see it a an excuse to spend the day on the sofa under a blanket, looking after myself. Or, more often, I'll biff some drugs into me and ignore it.
But this weak and pathetic modern man?
Thank GOD I'm not one of them!
My word! Have a go at this.
Reality TV has taken a disturbing turn. In Holland, there is now a show called The Donor show in which contestants vie for a dying woman's bodily organs. The woman will pick one of 3 to get her kidneys.
Condemnation has ensued. From all.
Well, let me put it this way - right or wrong, one thing will decide whether or not the show lasts. Money. If people don't watch, it won't last.
However, people have a morbid curiosity about such matters and I've no doubt many will watch (I would -but I'm no average man, and I've been an embalmer/undertaker so it doesn't really bother me).
And the organs belong to this lady; who am I to say she can't sell them. Or, much like the land beneath one's home, which is goverment owned (after about 5 feet past the foundations), do we not actually have the authority to do what we will with our own bodies?
Hmmm...more Orwellian stuff.
Reality TV has taken a disturbing turn. In Holland, there is now a show called The Donor show in which contestants vie for a dying woman's bodily organs. The woman will pick one of 3 to get her kidneys.
Condemnation has ensued. From all.
Well, let me put it this way - right or wrong, one thing will decide whether or not the show lasts. Money. If people don't watch, it won't last.
However, people have a morbid curiosity about such matters and I've no doubt many will watch (I would -but I'm no average man, and I've been an embalmer/undertaker so it doesn't really bother me).
And the organs belong to this lady; who am I to say she can't sell them. Or, much like the land beneath one's home, which is goverment owned (after about 5 feet past the foundations), do we not actually have the authority to do what we will with our own bodies?
Hmmm...more Orwellian stuff.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
IDIOT BOX
Or is it? The humble television used to be referred to as such but I wonder if it could still be so.
It used to be called this because the programs were quite low quality and viewers just watched without any great deal of emotion, and conversation suffered; much like robots, they just looked on.
But TV has changed. And visual equipment has come into its own as it were, thanks in no small part to a famous naturalist by the name of Sir David Attenborough.
His Life on Earth series, for example; a more spectacular show one would be hard pressed to find. And if it wasn't for TV none of us would see such images. From the mighty killer whales self beaching themselves to catch an unfortunate seal, to the image of Sir David sitting with the gorilla family as they seem totally unfazed by his presence, these images are far from idiotic. Where else are we going to see such a sight? In a zoo? Wildlife Park?
What has appeared to slide into the position of idiot box, however, is the attachment of computer games to the television - when kids spend all day in front of it zapping bugs and living a virtual life instead of being outside running around. Normally stuffing cakes and buns down their willing gullets, and we wonder why we're all so fat?
I love TV, except for the most part Australian free to air TV which is dire and actually DOES deserve the title of idiot box, so full of crap the programming is. DO NOT even get me started on that Big Brother fiasco. Reality TV my arse!
Nope! Modern TV is far from a medium for idiots. It has progressed to an entertaining, educational and informative medium and is almost a staple of most of us. Visual entertainment is a multi-billion dollar industry that has now become interactive.
Idiot box? I think not.
It used to be called this because the programs were quite low quality and viewers just watched without any great deal of emotion, and conversation suffered; much like robots, they just looked on.
But TV has changed. And visual equipment has come into its own as it were, thanks in no small part to a famous naturalist by the name of Sir David Attenborough.
His Life on Earth series, for example; a more spectacular show one would be hard pressed to find. And if it wasn't for TV none of us would see such images. From the mighty killer whales self beaching themselves to catch an unfortunate seal, to the image of Sir David sitting with the gorilla family as they seem totally unfazed by his presence, these images are far from idiotic. Where else are we going to see such a sight? In a zoo? Wildlife Park?
What has appeared to slide into the position of idiot box, however, is the attachment of computer games to the television - when kids spend all day in front of it zapping bugs and living a virtual life instead of being outside running around. Normally stuffing cakes and buns down their willing gullets, and we wonder why we're all so fat?
I love TV, except for the most part Australian free to air TV which is dire and actually DOES deserve the title of idiot box, so full of crap the programming is. DO NOT even get me started on that Big Brother fiasco. Reality TV my arse!
Nope! Modern TV is far from a medium for idiots. It has progressed to an entertaining, educational and informative medium and is almost a staple of most of us. Visual entertainment is a multi-billion dollar industry that has now become interactive.
Idiot box? I think not.
Spitfire ace
There's a show coming to the Discovery channel about the Spitfire pilots during the second World War. (What a cool name for a plane for a start - Spit fire - and so they did).
It got me thinking about these young men, some of whom were just boys. They carried the fate of the free world on their shoulders and fought, outnumbered three to one, against the might of Hitler's Luftwaffe.
Hitler at this point was marching virtually unfettered through Europe nd he knew that Britain was the only thing standing between him and total control of Europe - and then the world so he sent his armada of bombers and fighters to beat the small island into submission. Day after day the planes flew across the channel intent on smashing Britain into surrender.
And day after day, the young pilots of the RAF rose to the occasion, with the odds against them. They fought with their backs to the wall, sometimes flying sortie after sortie, landing just to refuel and rearm. Then they would once again scream into the sky to beat back the hoards. I often wonder how on the ground must have felt as they watched the battles; the sky above buzzing with aircraft, the air thick with exploding planes, the sound of machine gun fire as the various protagonists wheel and spiral as they try to gain advantage over their enemy.
What a sight it surely must have been.
The fact that we now live in relative freedom is down to those young men for if Hitler had invaded Britain then the Americans couldn't have used it as a staging post, therefore couldn't have helped. America was just to far away across an ocean.
After days and weeks of failed attempts to beat the RAF, and suffering terrible losses, Hitler asked Goering, the head of the Luftwaffe - "What do you need to win?" Goering replied, "Spitfires, give me Spitfires". And whilst that epitome of air superiority undoubtedly played a huge part, it was ultimately the brave young pilots who deserved the greatest accolade - which came from the then Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill who said:
"Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few".
Young men with an unshakeable sense of duty and a determination never to give in in the face of severe onslaught.
I wonder do such men exist today.
It got me thinking about these young men, some of whom were just boys. They carried the fate of the free world on their shoulders and fought, outnumbered three to one, against the might of Hitler's Luftwaffe.
Hitler at this point was marching virtually unfettered through Europe nd he knew that Britain was the only thing standing between him and total control of Europe - and then the world so he sent his armada of bombers and fighters to beat the small island into submission. Day after day the planes flew across the channel intent on smashing Britain into surrender.
And day after day, the young pilots of the RAF rose to the occasion, with the odds against them. They fought with their backs to the wall, sometimes flying sortie after sortie, landing just to refuel and rearm. Then they would once again scream into the sky to beat back the hoards. I often wonder how on the ground must have felt as they watched the battles; the sky above buzzing with aircraft, the air thick with exploding planes, the sound of machine gun fire as the various protagonists wheel and spiral as they try to gain advantage over their enemy.
What a sight it surely must have been.
The fact that we now live in relative freedom is down to those young men for if Hitler had invaded Britain then the Americans couldn't have used it as a staging post, therefore couldn't have helped. America was just to far away across an ocean.
After days and weeks of failed attempts to beat the RAF, and suffering terrible losses, Hitler asked Goering, the head of the Luftwaffe - "What do you need to win?" Goering replied, "Spitfires, give me Spitfires". And whilst that epitome of air superiority undoubtedly played a huge part, it was ultimately the brave young pilots who deserved the greatest accolade - which came from the then Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill who said:
"Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few".
Young men with an unshakeable sense of duty and a determination never to give in in the face of severe onslaught.
I wonder do such men exist today.
STOP-GO MAN
An individual seen at road works, this man, (or woman) is tasked with the job of controlling the flow of traffic through said works.
Pretty easy, one would think; turn the sign one way to stop traffic - the other to make it go, yes?
No, the bureaucrats have got involved and there's a little more to it. I can just imagine the interview for such an esteemed position.
"Grab this sign, stand up straight and twist it", the interviewer would say. "On one side there's a 'stop', on the other a 'go'. Y'got that?"
"Now, show me".
The applicant twists the pole this way and that, feeling important at such an honour. He has sat in a room previous to the interview listening to some nob waffling on about how essential a position it is he seeks. To achieve the necessary blue/green/pink with black elephants on it, card. This card means he is a fully trained stop-go man, and authorizes him to control traffic at any road works nationally.
I would have thought the prerequisite for such a position was an operating wrist! But no - the health and safety people are involved to ensure the operator doesn't get rsi or something from all that 'twisting'.
Hoho, the average bloke's wrist gets plenty of exercise what with all the self abuse. Haha - probably the strongest part of him!
Not that I would know anything about that!
Pretty easy, one would think; turn the sign one way to stop traffic - the other to make it go, yes?
No, the bureaucrats have got involved and there's a little more to it. I can just imagine the interview for such an esteemed position.
"Grab this sign, stand up straight and twist it", the interviewer would say. "On one side there's a 'stop', on the other a 'go'. Y'got that?"
"Now, show me".
The applicant twists the pole this way and that, feeling important at such an honour. He has sat in a room previous to the interview listening to some nob waffling on about how essential a position it is he seeks. To achieve the necessary blue/green/pink with black elephants on it, card. This card means he is a fully trained stop-go man, and authorizes him to control traffic at any road works nationally.
I would have thought the prerequisite for such a position was an operating wrist! But no - the health and safety people are involved to ensure the operator doesn't get rsi or something from all that 'twisting'.
Hoho, the average bloke's wrist gets plenty of exercise what with all the self abuse. Haha - probably the strongest part of him!
Not that I would know anything about that!
Monday, May 28, 2007
There's a piece in the paper today concerning a new pill to remove women's periods completely. No real need to explain why this is such a ridiculous idea - so I won't.
Instead I'll talk about the second paragraph which says - "weight-loss pills, drugs to stave off ageing (bit off a mouthful - anti-ageing drugs would be better), cosmetic surgery, liposuction, botox. Women can't just be themselves - there's always someone who wants to intervene to enhance them, usually someone out to make money".
Setting aside the author's mediocre writing, I have to ask - who holds a gun to your heads, ladies? Who makes you spend your hard-earned on these products? Don't tell me - men, I suppose!
The fact is, you all seem to be chasing eternal youth and will go to virtual extremes to achieve such. Haven't you heard of 'growing old gracefully'?
Of course, with the advent of the metrosexual man, he now has almost as many beauty product as women nowdays. What with the salons where he can be waxed and plucked; shaved and petticured; and spend the day gossiping with his boyfriends.
Bottom line - no-one makes you buy these products, girls, but you! You read these claims of youthful appearance from the products and immediately think - wow! I'll look younger. And the credit card gets a hammering. You take it home, smear it on and hope. And hope is all you have, frankly; there's only so much creams and applications can do, I'm afraid. The passage of time defeats all. Things sag and droop with age (think your average granny) and vanity is perhaps the most offensive of traits.
Of course we all want to look our best but, really, one can go too far. And there's nothing sadder than a desperate woman trying to hold onto her youth.
Instead I'll talk about the second paragraph which says - "weight-loss pills, drugs to stave off ageing (bit off a mouthful - anti-ageing drugs would be better), cosmetic surgery, liposuction, botox. Women can't just be themselves - there's always someone who wants to intervene to enhance them, usually someone out to make money".
Setting aside the author's mediocre writing, I have to ask - who holds a gun to your heads, ladies? Who makes you spend your hard-earned on these products? Don't tell me - men, I suppose!
The fact is, you all seem to be chasing eternal youth and will go to virtual extremes to achieve such. Haven't you heard of 'growing old gracefully'?
Of course, with the advent of the metrosexual man, he now has almost as many beauty product as women nowdays. What with the salons where he can be waxed and plucked; shaved and petticured; and spend the day gossiping with his boyfriends.
Bottom line - no-one makes you buy these products, girls, but you! You read these claims of youthful appearance from the products and immediately think - wow! I'll look younger. And the credit card gets a hammering. You take it home, smear it on and hope. And hope is all you have, frankly; there's only so much creams and applications can do, I'm afraid. The passage of time defeats all. Things sag and droop with age (think your average granny) and vanity is perhaps the most offensive of traits.
Of course we all want to look our best but, really, one can go too far. And there's nothing sadder than a desperate woman trying to hold onto her youth.
Protect our little ones
Here's the result of that bleeding heart protection.
An AVO is an apprehended violence order and is usually taken out between parties when one is in fear for his/her safety from the other. Unsurprisingly, the piss is often a motivating factor.
Well, it turns out that 40 of these orders have been taken out by teaching staff in NSW schools. Your wee babies, so mollycuddled they've been, have reached a point where they have no fear of retribution anymore and feel that they can behave in any way they see fit.
And many teachers, especially female ones, are actually frightened of them now.
Examples include:
* A 12 year old boy who allegedly threatened a teacher - WITH A GUN! (Where a 12 year old GETS a gun in the first place is an indictment in itself).
* Three teachers were forced to get an AVO against a former student who used a baseball bat to smash his way into an office.
The examples go on - physical and verbal assault; threats and physical assault; property damage; harassment; stalking - the list goes on and on.
This is incontrovertibly a result of the nanny state and their 'don't smack you children - it'll turn them into violent offenders' mentality.
Well, I hope you're pleased with yourselves - this is the result.
Well done!
An AVO is an apprehended violence order and is usually taken out between parties when one is in fear for his/her safety from the other. Unsurprisingly, the piss is often a motivating factor.
Well, it turns out that 40 of these orders have been taken out by teaching staff in NSW schools. Your wee babies, so mollycuddled they've been, have reached a point where they have no fear of retribution anymore and feel that they can behave in any way they see fit.
And many teachers, especially female ones, are actually frightened of them now.
Examples include:
* A 12 year old boy who allegedly threatened a teacher - WITH A GUN! (Where a 12 year old GETS a gun in the first place is an indictment in itself).
* Three teachers were forced to get an AVO against a former student who used a baseball bat to smash his way into an office.
The examples go on - physical and verbal assault; threats and physical assault; property damage; harassment; stalking - the list goes on and on.
This is incontrovertibly a result of the nanny state and their 'don't smack you children - it'll turn them into violent offenders' mentality.
Well, I hope you're pleased with yourselves - this is the result.
Well done!
The world superbikes were on TV yesterday. From Silverstone, that famous English ex-airfield, now racing circuit. The weather was wet; raining and a bit windy too. The first race went well, with a few crashes due to the slipperyness of the track from the rain. Troy Bayliss, the reigning world champion took race one, comfortably it has to be said.
And James Toseland, the current series point leader, after losing control with a soft highside, remounted and took eighth. Because whilst the rain makes the occasion of get offs more frequent, they are normally less damaging to the body because they typically happen at slower speeds and the friction with the surface is less.
But as per usual when it's wet, bloody Troy Corser chirps in with his whining about how unsafe it is to race in the wet. What a weenei! He does it all the time. Basically cause he's scared to take any risks. Fine! I say. Don't race - nobody's holding a gun to your head.
However it doesn't end there. No, the weener makes sure that if he doesn't want to race then nobody does. He tours the pits getting as many on side as he can before going to the race director and whining his head off. "Boo-hoo, it's too wet! Boo-hoo it's too dangerous! Boo-hoo, where's my mummy!"
Sod off little man. You're spoiling it for every one else. The privateers want to race in any weather (because the rain is the 'great equalizer' where the power of the factory bikes can't be utilized to the full and rider ability matters more). Even the lesser teams.
But no, just because some pussy is scared of the wet, he spoils it for every one - including the spectators. I was looking forward to the 2nd race, too. Wet races are ace. Coming from Ireland I've some experience in this so I have the authority to comment.
Away home and play with your dollies, wee boy!!
And James Toseland, the current series point leader, after losing control with a soft highside, remounted and took eighth. Because whilst the rain makes the occasion of get offs more frequent, they are normally less damaging to the body because they typically happen at slower speeds and the friction with the surface is less.
But as per usual when it's wet, bloody Troy Corser chirps in with his whining about how unsafe it is to race in the wet. What a weenei! He does it all the time. Basically cause he's scared to take any risks. Fine! I say. Don't race - nobody's holding a gun to your head.
However it doesn't end there. No, the weener makes sure that if he doesn't want to race then nobody does. He tours the pits getting as many on side as he can before going to the race director and whining his head off. "Boo-hoo, it's too wet! Boo-hoo it's too dangerous! Boo-hoo, where's my mummy!"
Sod off little man. You're spoiling it for every one else. The privateers want to race in any weather (because the rain is the 'great equalizer' where the power of the factory bikes can't be utilized to the full and rider ability matters more). Even the lesser teams.
But no, just because some pussy is scared of the wet, he spoils it for every one - including the spectators. I was looking forward to the 2nd race, too. Wet races are ace. Coming from Ireland I've some experience in this so I have the authority to comment.
Away home and play with your dollies, wee boy!!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Bit of interaction for you lot. Need a witty title.
Whoever wins gets...well, I don't know yet - but it'll be something. I know, Your name in lights. There y'go!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
For my mother
When I fall, she catches
When I fail, she soothes
When the load becomes too heavy, she shares
When I feel overwhelmed, she offers succour
When I can't see the way, she shows
When my spirit saps, she offers hers
When I feel alone, she stands with me
And her support through thick and thin is unfailing
For the one who's there no matter what
And on whom I can always depend, I am eternally grateful.
I'm the good man I am because of her guidance.
I love you, Ma.
When I fail, she soothes
When the load becomes too heavy, she shares
When I feel overwhelmed, she offers succour
When I can't see the way, she shows
When my spirit saps, she offers hers
When I feel alone, she stands with me
And her support through thick and thin is unfailing
For the one who's there no matter what
And on whom I can always depend, I am eternally grateful.
I'm the good man I am because of her guidance.
I love you, Ma.
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