HowTo Blogs (280)

Can somebody please tell me in words of one syllable how to upload a photo to the forums/blogs from a kindle. I've looked it up and it says things like right click, but I haven't a mouse and so can't right click.
Thankyou

They say revenge is a dish best eaten cold.

I don't mind if it is hot or cold, but I want it. The person bringing my car from Scotland with me paying ferry, tolls and flight back, has done a dirty on me, picked a quarrel, taken the huff and taken my car to Malaga, 80 km away, so I have to get it from there.

It will be a massive pain in the butt but that's not what the blog is about. I'm ANGRY. It has cost me hundreds of pounds, he's had the use of the car for a holiday with his best girl, and he's cheated at the last on the deal.

I fought myself for quite a while not to report it stolen. I'm not, after all, that nasty - but I do want satisfaction. It was a cheap trick to play, a completely selfish thing to do, and I don't care if my retaliation is silly, or childish, or a little bit evil so long as this anger stops eating me up. Hell, make me laugh, cheer me up, but spike my imagination.

Suggestions?

You should rather post these in the articles section, These are NOT blogs and no one will read them here.

Thank you.

Can you tell me what are the two most important days of your life? If you can not say no problem, I can tell you . The first day is when you first saw the light in the world, that is the day of your birth day. And the other day is the day when you can find out why you were born. I am one of the few people who can help you to find out the second most important day of your life. So now the most important question is "Who are you really?"

Who are you it's not not understood by your name. you are not a height, or How much do you weigh?. you are not a age or where do you live or Where do you come from?. Who are you & who are you? You are your favourite books. The song that comes in your head all the time, it is you. The thought that you have done all the time, it is you . You are the one you follow. If you follow the money, you will only find such a thing that everyone giving you money all the time. You have the thousands of things that are in you. But everyone wants to see millions of things in you but that is not you. So where you live, where you go it is not you.
Keep things in your mind at all times, you are not born with beauty, you have to create your beauty. You have to decide on your beauty. Your inner beauty is more important than your outer beauty.

I simply needed to return a shirt; here things are not quite so simple if you live in a small village.

A telephone call to the suppliers cost me 50 Brit pence a minute and after an automated press this, press that, Joy I finally had a human on the phone, I was given Item return instructions that felt like a United Nations briefing, I wrote notes and thought all was well.

Our tiny towns Post Room (office would be too kind) opens promptly at 9am, at 9:30 he opened the door with massive yawns that would make the grand canyon look like an ants toilet.

I requested a postage bag, No, he has none, but I could go to the big city if I wanted. After using language that would make a hardened prisoner cry like a baby he agreed to bring one the next day.

Next day, opening on time 45 mins late, alas no postage bags, he was not trained in postage bags yet.
I arranged an expedition, horses and supplies as well as a local guide and headed through the mountains to the bigger city, on arrival I was greeted like a foreign invader, but after conversing in the local dialect I was finally in line awaiting service.

I requested a postage bag, questioned as to my motives for the bag I could feel the bright light in my eyes as I was interrogated, my blood taken, DNA was probably taken too.

I took the bag outside as no parcel packing area was provided or permitted, placed the shirt and online payment receipt inside and returned to the line.

30 minutes later I was served, The address I was told was far too long and I had written outside the little boxes, My eyes now glowed red, my breath about to spew fire and brimstone, he relented.

I said I needed the cost of the postage to be placed inside the bag so I could be refunded by the Child Labour employing shirt manufacturer; this prompted a discussion between counters and members of the public and the result was that it was not possible, however some Senora behind me suggested I photograph the receipt, brilliant idea, this caused some sighs of derision amongst the yellow shirted staff, but I did as suggested sealed the bag and paid a whopping sum over, along with Gold, Frankincense and a bit of Myrrh for good measure.

Returning home after an overnight stay with some Nomads who were apparently going to the big city to buy camels I telephoned customer services In London who after some time said that I had not followed instructions and I may not be refunded the return postage, she was only 3 years old so I assumed she needed to go potty as the call ended.

As we are a universal bunch, how are your postal services?

I have been thinking lately have things seem to be quieting down on CS; how not as many members blog or post, and how many have left.

With the advent of Proficiency's blog, one of a personal and yes, controversial spiritual nature, it occured to me that perhaps others among us would like to write our thoughts in such a blog but feel this is not the appropriate forum for it, that our blog would be criticized, not understood, suffer from non-participation or worse ignored...in summation, it takes bravery to post a blog because of unspoken assumptions about what is acceptable or interesting, and what is not.

What if we gave everyone a blanket free pass to write a blog freely on things important to them or that they'd like to discuss, nothing profane or hurtful, but just allowing true creative juices to flow.

Seriously, how many really good conversations do we have going on here? What would be some good topics?

Comment freely, for in keeping with the current, I will probably delete this blog soon.....

when fear counts your heart beat
when tears are an incessant flow
when hope has left you in despair
when you are so tired, like the dead
when love ends in betrayal
when hate keeps its sting on you
when a friend rejects
when an enemy strikes
when your breath turns into gasps
when your eyes are blinded in pain
when there is no way ahead
when all doors are shut
when there are no windows even
when the sun blazes furiously hot
when not one clouds floats by
when the sky is dead black
when the stars hurt by shining so bright
when the air itself is so still it stifles
when you are spent out to the bone
when you are cold and all alone
when there is no cheer nor comfort
when you have hit rock bottom, laid out
when mind is buffeted around
when your heart is stops in frozenness
when your life is a void
when you cant remember the time you smiled
when dreams wake you in their grotesqueness
when the ache is dull unceasing
when every one has abandoned you
when panic flows thru your veins
when grief chills your blood
when you in a corner shrieking
when you know inside you're dead


Then you let go----
then you start to see around
then you look at people suffering
then you tend a bird's broken wing
then you drag yourself to reach out
then you learn the art of giving
then you have to begin to forgive
then you want to turn towards light
then you see shadows slinking away
then you look for the chinks in the shut doors
then you watch out for the stars in the day light
then you receive moonlight on your face
then you welcome twilight with a smile
then you grow inside your heart a flower
then one by one you put back your pieces
then you care enough to want a warm clasp
then you give up the emptiness
then you accept the inevitable
then you learn not to expect anything
then you start to play your appointed role
then you realize that you can understand everything
then when you do that,

you let it all go its own way
bow your life away in submission to the ONE.

I may have missed blogs on this change and apologies if so but it really is a little irritating.

Used to be you could only see the first 30 comments on a blog on a smartphone unless you went into full option (and eeny teeny print), well, not that many blogs go past 30 comments anyway. Not a huge problem.

Now it seems we can only see first few words of each comment - and that's not only me, Pat mentioned it on my last blog too.

It's a bit cynical of the programmers to assume we know what everyone's likely to say so don't need to see it

Maybe if those who prefer, or only, use smartphone, and have this issue, could leave comments, and if it seems there really are quite a few affected, we could ask pretty-please to go back to the luxury of 30 full comments?











(And hey, anyone else astonished that it is already Friday?)

I love to read. i will read just about anything lying around. Old newspapers, throwaway articles from the freebie newsstands, old magazines and on and on.

But my true passion is reading books from the library. During my time away from work or where I have no job I will go to the library and read. i have books when I go home that I have checked out. And that is where this story leads to.I have lately begun reading Ray Bradbury books. "Fahrenheit 451", I just finished "Something Evil Comes This Way" and now I am into "The Illustrated Man".

But let's get back to "Something Evil This Way Comes"! This book has a paragraph on love that perhaps is the solution for a man to finding the right woman. The scene takes place in the library where the protagonists are escaping bad guys from a horror carnival. They are Jim and Will, 2 kids, and will's Dad, Charles Holloway. As Will asks his father, and by Will's admission there was a puzzling relationship between these 2, why he married his mother. Charles Holloway answers:

In part, because I didn't mark this area off and I lost the whole monologue because I forgot to, Mr. Holloway describes his wife; ".....your mother has a wonderful set of eyes. I look at her eyes and I see that she see's love, and care for us (I am making part of this up because as I said I forgot the exact place in the book where it lies but you get the idea of his answer to Will) and I love her eyes. I see her nose and she (again I am making this part up) has a wonderful that smells the right things in life. I love her nose! Charles Holloway goes on with more love for his wife and what she has done for him and Will. Again, using parts of her body that may or may not look "good" but Mrs. Holloway was a woman that portrayed herself with what she had in a good way.

My point is, maybe men should look more at what he really likes about a certain women and really think about it. Does it fit into his way of looking at love and at her and not merely for s*xual pleasure.? I see many men walking with women they are in love with that are obese and not too many years ago men wanted the "hot looking" woman. I know what these men see in their obese companions. Eyes and noses that made him think she was the right one.

Everyone has special features about them. And I think we men should look deeper into a woman for them.

All credit and thanks goes to Ray Bradbury for this inspiring description on women!!