Can somebody please educate me on what this plant is called? It looks like somebody stuffed a flower with pieces of corn…

Lt. Col. Ollie North’s 10 Rules for Dating His Daughter

Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:
I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without utilizing a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”

Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka – zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. On issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car – there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Not a big fan of posting these sort of things but this one made my day.

Check out this scene from Bad Boy’s 2. Funniest thing ever.

Most of us gets water through a pipeline. For these people, this big water tanker drives by each week and fills up a big blue bin in front of people’s houses.

Yes everybody except me looks happy in the picture but I was kinda nervous handing over my camera to someone else. But it’s ok cause I got it back in one piece.

I LOLed after seeing this picture. Then out of nowhere I pictured my SAT English teacher with her mouth wide open exclaiming ZOMG! So this one’s for Vineeta. Maybe she’ll give me some extra credit on Friday’s vocab quiz.

Mr. Takku has a good sense of humor and is a joy to work with. I think he said he studied film producing and photography in Japan. He has a passion for photography and is always willing to offer suggestions and helpful hints for a better shot. His most touted feature? That awesome yellow bandana around his neck. I think I need to get me one.

I asked if I could take a photo. She said nothing. Then I told her to smile and she gave me a “get out of my face” look. ㅠㅠ

Here’s a quick update on what I’ve been up to. Last week I’ve had the chance to tag along with a mission group from the states to the slums of Villa Nueva. It was a 3 day mission trip, and we supported the villagers with medical, acupuncture, visual, family photos, and VBS for the younger ones. Of course I was part of the photo team.

Going to this mission trip was an opportunity to once again witness for myself how good my life is, even as a MK. It was also an opportunity to lower my standards of living and experience how hard these people had it. The dirt roads were littered with trash and there was big puddles of “water” everywhere that I later found out to be something completely different. The houses had no electricity, running water, and some didn’t have a front door. “Houses” were mostly constructed of tin sheets and a few didn’t have roofs.

As we crossed the bridge into the neighborhood, it felt as if we were crossing a bridge to a whole new country. The surrounding buildings were replaced with tin shacks and the McDonald’s that was less than a mile from the slums was suddenly replaced with a push cart selling greasy french fries (I took a look at the oil they were using and it was BLACK). It kind of struck me as weird when I thought about “O.K I’m in poorest part of the city and less than a mile from where I’m standing, there’s a shopping mall selling flat screen T.V’s and iPods”. Kinda shows how life can be VERY unfair.

But despite all of this, I found beauty in this neighborhood and it was the people. They didn’t seem to care or even know how bad their situation is. They were fine with a big tanker driving by their house everyday filling a dirty bin with their weekly supply of water. They were fine with living in a house the size of my bedroom with 5 other people. And most importantly, they were fine with living with all these limitations and still thanking God for everything they had. The slums of Villa Nueva can be described as dirty, ugly, smelly, gross, unsanitary, old-fashioned, wicked (I met a teenager that was shot 2 times by a robber; later they identified the robber as a local police officer), and disgusting. But when you get to experience this neighborhood, and no I don’t mean experiencing it by reading this post but actually going there and seeing for yourself the love for God in this village, you can’t see life the same. The sight of those people worshiping God as if there was no tomorrow changed my heart. I pray that every single one of you reading this has a chance to go on a mission trip that will change your life like this one did mine.

Love the picture, hate the fact that the mom was cut off.

More to come later.

Don’t put off what you can do today until tomorrow -Mr. Jungman

my math class got it.