Monday, May 24, 2010

Real Courtroom Testimony Quotes and Mistakes

Q: How old is your son, the one living with you?
A: Thirty-eight or thirty-five, I can't remember which.
Q: How long has he lived with you?
A: Forty-Five Years.
Q: What was the first thing your husband said to you when he woke up that morning?
A: He said, "Where am I, Cathy?"
Q: And why did that upset you?
A: My name is Susan.
Q: This Myasthenia Gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
A: Yes.
Q: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
A: I forget.
Q: You forget? Can you give us an example of someting that you have forgotten?
Q: Now Doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
Q: The youngest son, the twenty-year old,  how old is he?
Q: Were you present when your picture was taken?
Q: She had three children, right?
A: Yes.
Q: How many were boys?
A: None.
Q: Were there any girls?
Q: How was your first marriage terminated?
A: By Death.
Q: And by whose death was it terminated?
Q: Can you describe the individual?
A: He was about medium height and had a beard.
Q: Was this a male, or a female?
Q: Doctor, how many autopsies have you performed on dead people?
A: All my autopsies are performed on dead people.
Q: All your responses must be oral, ok? What school did you go to?
A: Oral.
Q: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
A: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
Q: And Mr. Dennington was dead at the time?
A: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy.

Oneliner Quick Quotes

  • A Boss: Someone who's early when you're late and late when you are early.
  • Chinese Proverb No. 1: Man who run in front of car get tired; man who run behind car gets exhausted.
  • Chinese Proverb No. 2: Man who walk through airport turnstile sideways going to Bangkok.
  • Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.
  • Beauty is in the eyes of the beer holder.
  • Bacon and Eggs: a day's work for a chicken, a lifetime commitment for a pig.
  • HECK is where people go who don't believe in GOSH.
  • A picture is worth 1,000 words, but it uses up 1,000 times the memory.
  • Remember that half the people you know are below average.
  • A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
  • How many of you believe in telekinesis? Raise my hand.
  • Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.
  • Strange that psychics have to ask you for your name.
  • At the feast of ego, everyone leaves hungry.

The Priest and the Politician: A Lesson on Time Management, Being Late and Public Speaking

After thirty years in the same parish, Farther O'Malley was saying his farewells at his retrement dinner. An eminent member of the congregation- a leading politician- had been asked to make a presentation and a short speech, but was late arriving.

So the priest took it upon himself to fill the time, and stood up to the microphone:

" I remember the first confession I heard here thirty years ago and it worried me as to what sort of place I'd come to...That first confession remains the worst I've ever heard. The young man confessed that he'd stolen a TV from a neighbor and lied to the police when he was questioned, successfully blaming it on a known criminal. He said that he'd stolen money from his parents and from his employer; that he'd had affairs with several of his friends' wives; that he'd taken hard drugs, and had slept with his cousin and given her VD. You can imagine whatI thought... However, I am pleased to say that as the days passed, I soon realized that this sad young man was a frightful exception and that this parish was indeed a wonderful place full of kind and decent people..."

At this point the politician arrived and apologized for being late, and excited to take the stage, he immediately stepped up to the microphone and pulled his speech from his pocket:

"I'll always remember when Father O'Malley first came to our parish," said the politician, "In fact, I'm pretty certain that I was the first person in the parish that he heard in confession..."

Human Resources Tale

A highly successful Human Resources Manager was tragically knocked down by a bus and killed. Her sould arrived at the Pearly Gates, where St. Peter welcomed her.

"Before you get settled in," he said, "We have a little see, we've never had a Human Resources Manager make it this far and we're not really sure what to do with you."

"Oh, I see." said the woman. "Can't you just let me in?"

"Well, I'd like to," said St. Peter, "But I have higher orders. We're instructed to let you have a day in hell and a day in Heaven, and then you are to choose where you'd like to go for all eternity."

"Actually, I think I'd prefer Heaven," said the woman.

"Sorry, we have rules..." at which St. Peter put the HR Manager into the downward bound elevator.

As the doors opened in Hell, she stepped out onto a beautiful golf course. In the distance was a country club; around her were many friends- past fellow executives, all smartly dressed, happy and cheering for her. They ran up and kissed her on both cheeks and they talked about old times. They played a perfect round of golf and afterwards went to the country club where she enjoyed a superb steak and lobster dinner. She met the Devil, who was actually rather nice, and she had a wonderful night telling jokes and dancing. Before she knew it, it was time to leave; everyone shook her hand and waved goodbye as she stepped into the elevator. The elevator went back up to Heaven where St. Peter was waiting for her.

"Now it's time to spend a day in Heaven," he said.

So she spent the next 24 hours lounging around on clouds and playing the harp and singing, which was almost as enjoyable as her day in hell. At the day's end St. Peter returned.

"So," he said, "You've spent a day in hell and you've spent a day in Heaven. You must choose between the two."

The woman thought for a second and replied, "Well, Heaven is certainly lovely, but I actually had a better time in hell. I choose hell."

Accordingly, St. Peter took her to the elevator again and she went back to hell.

When the doors of the elevator opened she found herself standing in a desolate wasteland covered in garbage and filth. She saw her friends dressed in rags, picking up rubbish and putting it in old sacks. The Devil approached and put his arm around her.

"I don't understand," stuttered the HR Manager, "Yesterday I was here, and there was a golf course, and a country club, and we ate lobster, and we danced and had a wonderful happy time. Now all there is just a dirty wasteland of garbage and all my friends look miserable."

The Devil looked at her and smiled. "Yesterday we were recruiting you, today you're staff."

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Little Boys Poem

Little Boys

One day when I was a young child,

I looked into the mirror and my hair was too wild.

I climbed on the toilet and up on the sink,

I looked into the mirror and gave myself a wink.

The small shiny scissors twinkled oh so bright,

And all of the sudden I heard the fright.

To my mom’s surprise she was shocked at the sight,

I went to bed singing into the night.

When I awoke the next morning, I crawled out of my crib,

And I could hear my mom telling the neighbor a fib.

I crept to the bathroom and checked out my new ‘do,

Took out the toilet cleaner and now my hair is all blue.

My mom burst out laughing, pointing and crying.

Perhaps, tomorrow I’ll be spinning and flying.

(Poem Inspired by Erica M. Kadrmas three sons: Xavier, Tanner, and Hunter on

March 5, 2007).

The Mending Flower

The Mending Flower

(Poem inspired by Beloved Grandmother Hattie Kadrmas April 25, 2007)

Thou art the fairest, most delicate teacup blossom in my garden,

Yet, you stature has held the test of time.

Wars were fought; tears were shed; but ‘tis your awe and delicate beauty that tugs at the heart of men.

The untouched lips of the lonely felt the warmth of your glow.

Alas, I hear your sweet song whispering into the wind.

Thou art the willow that sways near your shadow.

The lonely experience your precious spirit; a precious Angel to dance a smile to the tear; a companion to the widow; a lover to the unloved and a parent to the orphan.

Oh, sweet Dear One, thou art honored to have been graced and blessed to have lived while you lived.

To kiss your cheek for one last time,

‘Tis truly awesome the honor and splendor one blessed life had on so many.

My dear, sweet, treasured and beloved, may you always know the love my soul has felt for you,

And the lives you have touched, and that you children call you blessed.

Your Granddaughter sends one last kiss and tears your way, wanting to lend a hand to your legacy, Oh Mending Flower.

Let me be your shining example and live my life like the angel you were.

Written by Erica M. Kadrmas

Haiku Poetry and Short Shorts

True Love

Rain from Heaven


God’s tears.

Time Passing

(June 16, 1999)

The wrinkle

Of time lay


Towards a life

That is relaxed.

The Tiny Bird’s Last Song

(June 16, 1999)

Sprawling near the grass

Sits a sad little bird

Waiting to sing the last song.

Poems written by Erica M. Kadrmas

An Outsider

In the vast, eerie midnight, the hushed lake is embraced to a still water.

The witching hour slowly approaches as the stroke of midnight slowly descends.

In the musty, metallic backwoods the martyr dome rises like a haunting hellfire.

He slowly descends the Gates to burn in a fiendish tormenting of all Hell.

A morbid, disturbing, agonized moan cries into a deafening race for life.

The Prince of Darkness gently begins to sway his bloodstained sickle.

The last resting place for eternal rest is turned into a reign of terror.

A bloody robe that reeked of decayed flesh covers an intimidated face.

A chilled hand grasps my neck, and I slowly pass into a place that held shadows of chambers that resembled mangled meat.

The Day of Judgment and Doom’s Day were groveling to a mauling compromise.

The mistress of Deception held a crazed coldness that gave you a shadow of a hateful vengeance.

I was an outsider to this foreign land commonly known as Satan’s kingdom.

Getting ready for the departure of persecution was to the quest of all flesh.

A bodkin lay in the corner of the mortal concealed vaults of the charnel house.

At Death’s door was the last step to where the mute became silent.

Blood trickled down the disembodied torso of a once lively creature.

Death held its illimitable grasp on all mankind.

The Master of Torment would convey all of life’s pain and torture carrying with it a piercing shrill.

The sinful aggravation cultivated a termination to the finishing stroke.

I had a preyed upon sense to strive for a chance to decay like the already mystified bloodied flesh.

Shattered glass lay on the muddy floor of the forest.

I noticed then, that life and death are equally jests both fighting for the throne.

Death always was there and held dominion over all.

I sit on a rock that resembled an old cemetery stone.

I listen, and in the far distance here a faint tormented cry.

The rotting shadows begin to descend, staggering off into the distance.

Grasping and pulling try to overwhelm me into living in the chambers of the bloody, tormenting Hell.

I slowly change my mind, and I began to notice a magnificent white light.

I am not foolish to leave this kingdom, for I am wise.

In the dead of the night, I reach the bitter end where Death proceeds in his duty.

Have I Ever Really Known You? Poem

Have I Ever Really Known You?

Of late, I have wondered.

Wondered? You asked.

Wonder if I ever have known you.

Known me?

Yes you, the real you.

I wonder if those times we talked, or those times we laughed were moments that truly had some type of meaning to you, as it did for me.

You have to be joking!

Then, I picked up the lace kerchief that I used to dry your tears when hurt and pain came your way.

You still have that ugly thing?

I tried to clean out the stains but they remained, and so I fold it up and keep it in a pocket in case you should ever need it.

You should have thrown that away in the trash.

No one wants to use that dirty filthy thing!

There was a time in my life when I needed a special lace kerchief, but there was none.

What are you talking about? You have everything!

I enjoyed the delight in your eyes with each treasure that I gave to you.

That’s what you do when you’re rich.

I tried to send letters of care, of encouragement, and when you were sad, a letter to let you know that I would be there for you no matter what.

Yeah, I got all of those letters. You have so much time to write. I just don’t have the time.

Now, I am sitting here wondering and thinking if I ever really knew you, the true you?

I needed and craved your friendship but you were not there.

You were not there to dry my tears when I was scared and needed you most.

Tokens of friendship that I presented to you were taken with greed and expectation.

As I am aging, perhaps dying a little each day, will you be there?

Can I depend on you to dry my tears with your lace kerchief?

Throughout life, friendship is a queer trait, because we will never truly know if it ever really existed.

On my deathbed, I will know my friends,

They will be the ghosts in the room holding my hand.

September 27, 2006 by Erica M. Kadrmas

The House Across the Street

Often, I have pondered over the people next door.

Do they talk to me or should I ignore?

The curtains are drawn and the doors are always shut.

I close my eyes and take a step,

But my feet feel like lead

And I need to go to bed.

Am I that person that is talked about?

I can’t stand the worry and the doubt.

I dutifully wave to the car passing by,

Knowing my gesture is truly a lie.

Give me my pill,

So I can deal,

And make it to my next meal,

So this thing I call life will appear somewhat real.

by Erica M. Kadrmas
March 21, 2006

The Knock (Poem)

I heard a little voice whispering in the dark.

A knock started to be heard,

Knocking, knocking, knocking at the door.

I went to see who was there and looked out the window,

A stranger in the dark was standing at the door.

An intensity that I had not known before came pounding at my heart.

The beating, the silence, was more than I could handle.

My ears had not known the sound that was before me,

A sound so there, but not, that held me into place.

A knocking, knocking, knocking came pounding at my door,

To be opened by someone that I had not known before.

I heard a little voice whispering in the dark,

Whispering a thought that I had not thought of before.

I think, I thought, I winced, I wept.

I heard a little knocking, a knocking at my door.

I went to see who was there.

Tap, tap, tap, a knocking at the door,

I looked out the window and saw that man.

The man who seemed to be behind everything that was bad.

That man who made the hairs on my neck stand straight with fear.

That night I heard a voice,

Whispering in the dark,

I covered my ears, and walked away.

The strangers voice left my ears.

The knocking at the door slowly faded away.

A tiny light shimmered near the corner of the wall.

I closed my eyes, covered my ears and whispered something to no one.

That night, I heard the voice whispering and the knocking at the door.

I walked away to be with myself.

I knew the truth.

The truth knew me.

The little voice I thought I heard silenced itself.

The knocking, knocking, knocking at my door was done.

I went to my knees and said a prayer that night.

I heard a strong voice pronounce deeply that I was his,

The feeling stayed, the comfort contented, and after that I left to meet my maker.

Erica M. Kadrmas
March 10, 2006

The Last Tear, A Poem written by Erica M. Kadrmas

I walked down the desolate street without fear.

Clouds gathered and beckoned to all they cherished,

Like Sirens who lured people to their deaths.

I grumbled beneath my breath,

For I knew what was coming.

I did not need to read, nor hear the agony of defeat,

The feeling has always remained.

Waterfalls were shed.

Lives were drowned,

Yet, I smile.

The room spins around me,

And yet, I wonder.

I no longer need you,

Pain flickers in my heart.

I try to deny it, but,

I’ve saved you the last tear.

I get the last laugh.

Cry, you baby,

I know you feel the pain,

Because, I do too.

(October 29, 1996)

Actual Newspaper Headlines

  • 17 Remain Dead in Morgue Shooting Spree
  • Coach Fire- Passengers Safely Alight
  • Grandmoter of Eight Makes A Hole in One
  • Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Experts Say
  • Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
  • Drunks Get Nine Months In Violin Case
  • Eastern Head Seeks Arms
  • Prostitutes Appeal to Religious Leader
  • Failed Panda Mating- Veterinarian Takes Over
  • President Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead
  • Plane Too Close To Ground, Crash Probe told
  • Miners Refuse To Work After Death
  • Juvenile Court To Try Shooting Defendant
  • Stolen Painting Found By Tree
  • War Dims Hope For Peace
  • Ir Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last A While
  • Couple Slain, Police Suspect Homicide
  • Man Struck by Lightning Faces Battery Charge
  • New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group
  • Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Space
  • Kids Make Nutritious Snacks
  • Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half
  • Typhoon Rips Through Cemetary-Hundreds Dead

Alleged Appraisal Putdowns

  • Not recommended for use of course-rather to illustrate how not to do it.
  • Takes him two hours to watch sixty minutes.
  • If you stand close enough to him, you can hear the oceans..."
  • If you gave him a penny for his thoughts, you would get change...
  • If he were any more stupid he'd have to be watered twice a week.
  • Has two brains: one is lost and the other is out looking for it.
  • Gates are down, the lights are flashing, but the train isn't coming.
  • Donated his brain to science before he was done using it.
  • A photographic memory but with the lens cover glued on.
  • If you see two people talking and one looks bored, he's the other one.
  • He brings joy whenever he leaves the room.
  • He has a knack for making strangers immediately.
  • He would argue with a signpost.
  • He's been working with glue too much.
  • I would like to go hunting with him sometime.
  • He doesn't have ulcers but he's a carrier.
  • Got a full sixpack but lacks the plastic thingy to hold it all together.
  • His men would follow him anywhere, but only out of morbid curiosity.
  • This person has delusions of adequacy.
  • Since my last report has reached rockbottom, and has started to dig.
  • Sets low standards and consistently fails to achieve them.
  • Has the wisdome of youth and the energy of old age.
  • Works well under constant supervision and when cornere like a rat in a trap.
  • You are on the crest of a slump.
  • The lights are on but nobody's at home.
  • The wheel is turning but the hamster is dead.

Amusing Puns and Double-Meanings

The pun (a humorous device expoiting two words or expressions that sound the same but with 2 different meanings, and usuall with 2 different spellings) is one of the great wonders of the English languages.

  • Serious campers are intense.
  • Sports people can avoid the pain of defeat by wearing comfortable shoes.
  • Nuns generally wear plain colors because old habits never dye.
  • The days of the pocket diary are numbered.
  • Lions eat their prey fresh and roar.
  • Old bikes should be retired.
  • Geometry holds clues for the meaning of life; look and you will see the sines.
  • You can't beat a pickled egg.
  • If a leapard could cook would he ever change his pots?
  • See one melee of unruly people and you've seen a maul.
  • Do hungry time-travelers ever go back four seconds?

Judging People can be Difficult

Fred and Becky were both patients in a mental hospital. One day as they both walked beside the swimming pool, Becky jumped into the deep end and sank to the bottom. Without a thought for his own safety, Fred jumped in after her, brought her to the surface, hauled her out, gave her the kiss of life and saved her.

The next day happened to be Fred's annual review. He was brought before the hospital board, where the director told him, "Fred, I have some good news and some bad news: the good news is that in light of your heroic act yesterday, we consider that you are sane and can be released from this home and back into society. The bad news is, I'm afraid, that Becky, the patient you saved, shortly afterwards hung herself in the bathroom with the belt from her bathrobe. I'm sorry, but she's dead."

Looking puzzled, Fred replied, "She didn't hang herself, I put her there to dry."

Creative Thinking

Welcome to The Inner Soul where creative people join forces and display their talents. I believe that it is important to express yourself whether it be writing, art, crafts, and stories with a lesson behind them. This blog will contain fables, quotes, poetry, writing and many other things. Some of the stories, poems, fables, quotes may create some discomfort for some. All that I ask is for you to keep an open mind and enjoy a blog about life lessons.