Nil Satis Nisi Optimum

All those who say we will destroy Planet Earth believe in their own lie
In a thousand centuries from now the birds will sing on the trees
Though humans may have been wiped out by some incurable disease.

What we do to our Earth to our own selves we do
And that the World will always be around only happens to be true
We are a part of Nature and off of this Earth we live
And from her we only take and take and to her nothing give.

For this Earth we live off of few of us seem to care
We pollute her rivers, lands and seas and with smoke make foul the air
That we need Mother Earth more than she needs us seems obvious to me
Life would survive and flowers would bloom without us though, don’t you agree?

Those who say that Humankind will destroy this Earth are forgetting one thing
That the Earth will survive we'll only destroy ourselves and without us birds will sing
Mother Nature has been around forever and she will never die
She was there for thousands of centuries before birds even knew how to fly.

Take the Blinkers off, look around

Tell me what you’ve found,

religious leaders raping child

so called mothers and fathers killing the innocents

sleeping babies with arms chopped off

small boys chased and drowned

by the one person that should protect them?

This is your religion, take a good look,

this is only the modern face

do know your religion has murdered millions

throughout the ages of history

take off the blinkers mate

I'm still sure you cannot see,

Lie for lies

stay with it and your mind dies.

Our Boy the Soldier
How great a man he must be
To be joined in the fight to
set another part of the world free.

Our Boy the Soldier
So very far away
We will all be waiting with open
arms on your coming home day

Terry Crusader, an unemployed milkman from Tunbridge Kent, who dialled a Phone Sex line by mistake while attempting to call the Samaritans suicide helpline, made headlines after his attempt to kill himself didn’t quite go as planned. The recorded transcript tells the full story:

Woman (sexily): "Hello."
Terry: "Hi. Is this the Samaritans?"
Woman (even more sexily): "I can be whatever you want for 3.99 a minute, love."
Terry: "Wh-What? You charge now? Not that it matters, as I'm not going to be around to pay the bill. What’s your name?
Woman: "Jackie…the Samaritan, the sexy Samaritan. What’s your name, gorgeous?"

Terry: "Terry—with two 'A's.' Not that they'll spell it right on my tombstone.
Jackie: "I'm a double A too, Terry."
Terry: "What?"
Jackie (giggling): "36 Double-A—my bra size. It sounds like you need some cheering up, Terry."
Terry: "Actually I called to ask what would be the quickest way to top myself."
Jackie: Top yourself? You’ve got it all wrong, Baby. "You have to top another person. Otherwise the bits don’t all line up. Would you like to top me?"
Terry: "I don’t even know you. Why would I top you?"
Jackie: Because I’m hot and sexy with long, blonde hair and a lovely, firm bottom just waiting for your throbbing manhood to explore the deep caverns of my perfectly toned body?"
Terry (sceptically): "Are you sure you’re a Samaritan?"
Jackie (sultrily): In the flesh, Terry. Deeply tanned soft flesh that I wanna rub against you."
Terry: "Well, you’re going to have to pull my head out of the oven first. No wait, that won’t work. It’s electric."
Jackie: "You don’t need to crawl in an oven to be hot, Terry. You’re so hot, it burns my fingers to touch you."
Terry: "I have some rope in the garage. I suppose I could toss it over the beam in the kitchen."
Jackie: "Rope? Oh, you’re a kinky one. Who’re you planning to use the rope on?"

Terry: Myself, you filthy slut. What sort of a question is that?"
Jackie: "Y'know what I’d like to do with that rope? I’d like to strip you naked and tie you up to the headboard of your bed. Then I’d run my hot, wet tongue all over your quivering flesh, an inch at a time, until you couldn’t stand it any longer and begged me for mercy."
Terry: "Beg for mercy? Tried it. No one's listening."
Jackie: "Then I’d slowly take off your trousers, slide your pants down your legs and cup your bum in my hands while I softly blow on your engorged cock."

Terry: "Cock? Yes, good idea. A gun’s the way to go. Why didn’t I think of that? Forget the rope."
Jackie (patiently): "All right then. No rope. I’ve always loved men who know how to handle a weapon. "Ya know why? They’re almost always loaded and capable of going off at any moment. What colour is it?
Terry: "Silver. It’s a 44 magnum."

Jackie (moaning): "Oh, a 44. A really big gun, with a thick barrel. Just thinking about it has made me so wet I just slipped off my knickers. Do you mind if I take off my top, Terry?"
Terry: "I don’t care if you can play tunes on your nipples, Jackie."
Jackie (giggling sexily): "Oh Terry, when I laugh, my girly juices drip onto the sofa. Can I stroke you weapon, darling? Can you imagine me doing that?"

Terry (hesitantly): Well—so long as you don’t pull the trigger. I only have the one bullet."
Jackie: Oh, it’s so hard, Terry! And so big! Surely you can think of better things to do with it than killing yourself. Here, look how it fits so perfectly between my beautifully tanned thighs..."
Terry: "What? Stop that!"
Jackie (breathing heavy): "Too late. My love juices are all over it, Terry."

Terry: "You’re gonna jam the bloody thing."
Jackie (moaning louder): "Oh, it feels so good, Terry. Especially when it thrusts deep inside me, twisting and turning. Oh God, I think it just found my G Spot."

Terry: Stop that! Enough with the gun already! I just remembered, the maid comes tomorrow. I don’t want to make a mess."
Jackie: "A mess? Don’t you have any tissues?"
Terry: "I used them all up crying after the missus left me. I’m putting down the gun now."
Jackie (a bit dejected): "Are you sure? Maybe you have a knife, then? A large butcher's knife with a really big, knobbly handle. That’d be kinky, wouldn’t it? You could do me up the bum with the blunt end, if you fancy that."

Terry: "Hmm, it's nice of you to offer but I think I’ll pass. I mean, if I wasn’t about to kill myself, I’d probably take you up on that."
Jackie: Don’t worry, I won’t take it personally. Tell me darling, have you considered pills?
Terry: "Sleeping pills?"

Jackie: No, silly. Those little blue ones that make your willy hard. Don’t take the whole bottle, though. One’ll do just fine."
Terry: "Do what?"
Jackie (excited): "Mmm...see—it’s working already. Look at little Terry grow!"
Terry: "I’m sorry but he died years ago."
Jackie: "Then it's a miracle—look, I’m raising the dead!
Terry: Well okay, I do have a bit of a stiffy."
Jackie (laughing almost hysterically): "A bit of a stiffy? That’s like calling the Titanic a tug boat!"
Terry: (shy and embarrassed): "You really think so?"
Jackie: "Oh yeah. I’ve always wanted to sail the high seas. (Giggling) What if I grab your rudder and steer your big boat deep into my wet, dark harbour. How’s that sound, Terry?
Terry: "Well, ahoy shipmate!"

Jackie (beginning to moan again): "Aye aye, Cap'n. You’re cruising through me like no other...a slow and steady forward motion as we both rock in time with the waves around us."
Terry: "Bugger! Now you’ve got me wanking when I should be topping myself."

Jackie: "That’s okay, Cap'n. I’ll make you walk the plank when we’re done."
Terry (with quick breaths): "On with it then, you salty slut!"
Jackie (low and urgent): "Your slow and steady forward motion turns into a quick slapping of waves against the sides of your long, hard ship. Faster now, our boat rocks on the high seas until we’re both so close, so close, Terry. Are you close?"

Terry (stuttering): "I’m cl… very clo…"
Jackie (rushed): "Permission to come on board, sir!"
Terry (grunting): Permission granted, mistress." (More grunting)
Jackie (moaning loud and long) "Ohhhhh. Oh, Terry...Oh Baby!
Terry: "Jackie!"

(several moments of silence, followed by the lighting of cigarettes)
Jackie (sighing): How do you feel now, Terry? Still blue like the sea? Don’t you feel better, Baby?"
Terry: "I can die a happy man."
Jackie (chuckling): "Okay then, that's 14 minutes of Phone Sex at 3.99 a minute, your total comes to 55.86, plus VAT."
(metallic click followed by a muffled gunshot)
Jackie: "Terry?"

(silence)

Jackie: "Terry? Captain, are you there?"
Terry: "Damn thing jammed and then went off when I dropped it. Do you take Visa?"
Jackie: "That'll do nicely, darling."

Sussy Viper would like to express her thanks to the lovely phone sex girls at ADULTCHAT for helping her write this article. They don't promise to save lives but they can save you from a large bill.

We are coming to that time of the year when hopefully Colds and Coughs become less prevalent. A Cough is a defensive, protective reflex.
It may signal the presence of a problem in the respiratory system and may serve to eliminate the condition, which is stimulating the cough as occurs with an infection in the lower airways. However, when a cough persists and no longer serves this function it becomes a concern to both patient and physician.

The prevalence of chronic cough (persisting for more than 3 weeks) in non-smoking adults varies from between 2-23%, depending on the study performed, i.e. it is very common.

Coughing? Take some chocolate

An ingredient found in chocolate may be a more effective remedy than current medicines for persistent coughs, according to a new study in the November 2005 edition of The FASEB (Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology) Journal.

What did the study show?

The study showed that an ingredient of chocolate called theobromine was more effective at stopping persistent coughs than the leading cough medicine codeine.

How was the study carried out?

Ten healthy volunteers were given theobromine, codeine or a placebo at different times. A placebo is a substance that doesn't contain any medication. The volunteers did not know which of the three options they were taking.
The volunteers were then asked to inhale a substance called capsaicin.

What is capsaicin?

Capsaicin is a substance that comes from capsicum (American pepper plants). It irritates the membranes that line all body passages that are in contact with air, such as the windpipe. Capsaicin is used in science research to cause coughing.

How did researchers compare the effect of theobromine with codeine and placebo?

The researchers measured the levels of capsaicin needed to make the volunteers cough. Volunteers took either theobromine, codeine or placebo. They then took capsaicin to find out how much they needed before they started coughing.
What did the levels of capsaicin show?
Volunteers needed to take more capsaicin after theobromine than after codeine or placebo.

The level of capsaicin needed to cause coughing was about one third higher in the volunteers who had been given theobromine compared with placebo.
Those who were given codeine only needed slightly higher levels of capsaicin than those given the placebo to cause a cough.

Did theobromine have side-effects?
No. The volunteers who took theobromine had none of the side-effects normally caused by other cough medicines.

What side-effects do other cough medicines have?
The majority of cough medicines have very few side effects. Codeine and cough medicines that contain antihistamines may cause drowsiness, constipation, difficulty passing urine, dry mouth or blurred vision.
Check with your GP or pharmacist before taking cough medicines. People with diabetes should avoid cough medicines that are sugar based.

Why is theobromine better than other cough medicines?
If research confirms that theobromine does not cause drowsiness, then there may be no limits on when theobromine can be taken. For example, people who take codeine must make sure their reactions are normal before driving or carrying out any jobs that need them to be fully alert, since codeine may cause drowsiness.
The researchers suggest that the lack of side-effects may mean that theobromine could be given at higher doses than other cough medicines.

How much theobromine did volunteers take?
The volunteers were given a dose of theobromine that was equal to the amount of the ingredient found in a 50g bar of dark chocolate or two cups of cocoa.

Why does theobromine put a stop to coughing?
Theobromine suppresses the activity of the vagus nerve, which causes coughing.

What did the study conclude?
The researchers concluded that theobromine is a promising new treatment, which may form the basis for a new type of medicines that can relieve or prevent coughing. More research is needed to fully understand these findings.

Should I eat chocolate if I have a cough?
Who needs an excuse to eat some chocolate? According to this study though, theobromine, which is a key ingredient found in chocolate, may be effective at stopping persistent coughs.
This was a very small study and more research is needed to fully understand the findings. If you have a persistent cough, you should speak to your doctor before switching your cough medicine for chocolate.

What can I do to help relieve a cough?

•Sip hot honey and lemon drinks.

•Don’t smoke and avoid smoky places.

•Use extra pillows at night to raise your head.

•Inhale steam, e.g. from a bowl of hot (but not boiling) water.

•Take a hot bath or shower to expose your chest to steam & devour a large bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk.

Can’t wait to get a cough!

Hi everyone,

I just wanted to share with my online friends the fact that I have just found out that my ebook about Back & Neck Pain is going to be published!

You are very welcome to download your free copy here- BOOK

Have a Good Day!

Following on from my previous report on the destruction of a Gnome vice ring in Cranbrook Kent, we have received a series of shocking photographs of scantily clad, teenage girls shamelessly cavorting with gnomes in broad daylight

The photographs—all of which are too disturbing to publish in this country—were delivered to my office in a pizza carton by an extremely short, bearded man wearing a red hat with a thick, foreign accent.

Frankly, we at Gnome Alert are not surprised by this development in the ongoing Gnome crises. Despite my repeated pleas for vigilance and resolute action, our European neighbours have steadfastly refused to recognise the evils of international Gnomery. Some have even voiced their support for the Gnomish ringleader—the self-styled 'Papa Smirf Floyd'—who was arrested by police on Friday. What will surprise and shock every right-thinking Briton are these disturbing pictures of so-called 'gnome love.' Make no bones about it, if this continental vice is allowed to gain a foothold in this country, no teenage girl will be safe.

Foremost among the decadent reactionaries promoting this filthy practice are the Italian members of MALAG—the Movimento Autonomo per la Liberazione delle Anime da Giardino— a radical alliance of self-confessed 'gnome lovers' based in Italy. We have little doubt that the we cannot publish emanate from this or similar organisations in Europe.

MALAG—which loosely translates into English as the 'Independent movement for the Liberation of the Spirits of the Garden,' is a shadowy organisation, thought to have links to Italian Freemasonry and the sinister 'Gnomenati'—a secret society steeped in vice. It is misguided supporters of Gnomery like these who are actively encouraging the budding flowers of English womanhood to embrace 'the spirits of the garden.'

Our worst suspicions were confirmed on MALAG's Italian website, where we found several images of Snow White engaged in a variety of intimate acts with dozens of grinning gnomes. This dangerous organisation openly boasts of their love for the gnomes who saddled this innocent young waif with seven of their bastard offspring. What's more, they brazenly advise young girls to: 'run naked through the woods and fields to experience the delights of gnome love at first hand.' As these shocking images show, the girls who succumb to this vice soon become addicted to the fairy-tale 'magic' of 'gnome love'.

Once hooked, they quickly lose their natural inhibitions and will perform the vilest of acts with as many as five gnomes at a time. I asked an expert on aberrant teenage sexual behaviour, Professor Hans Grimm, from the University of Leipzig, what drives these teenagers to such depths of depravity.

The black eyes of the short, rotund academic widened as he leaned forward excitedly.

"It's ze call of ze primordial sexual instinct which is most active during ze years of early puberty in young girls."
"Not boys?" I asked
Professor Grimm stroked his snowy beard. "Nein. Ze male lacks ze imagination to roll naked in a pile of rotting leaves in ze middle of a fairy-tale vood vile fantasising about being taken roughly by a troupe of midgets in big, pointy, red hats. Ze characteristic red hat of ze common garden gnome—gnomus domesticus—is, of course, ze classic phallic symbol of fertility und quite irresistible to a romantic young woman in oestrus."
"How pointy?"
"Very...und long und stiff und shiny."
"Golly! And the fairies?"
"Vivid sexual hallucinations caused by the ingestion of amanita muscaria—ze so-called 'magic mushroom."
"Not Bacardi breezers and spliff, then?"
"Nein."
"Um...gosh, professor. You make it sound almost exciting..."

"Vell it is, if you're a fourteen-year-old girl viz no legitimate outlet for ze powerful urges surging through ze body at this difficult time of sexual frustration."
"So we were wrong to insist that all our gnomes wear big, pointy red hats—I mean, it's just inviting trouble, from what you say?"

The professor snorted derisively and fixed me with his penetrating gaze.
"You vill find that you have made a number of grave errors of judgement in his handling of zis Gnome crises. As have zose gnomes who discarded zair hats inzat silly protest . Without them zey have as much chance of scoring viz a hot young cutie as a balding, middle-aged political extremist on ze make."
"Astonishing, professor," I commented. "Thank you so much for talking to us."
"Ze pleasure voz all mine, young lady," oozed the smooth-talking academic as he kissed my hand gallantly. "Vud you like to take a short stroll in ze woods viz me later? Ze bluebells are quite enchanting at zis time of year."

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Run for cover!

Now before I begin I would like to say a few words about our nation, the English nation. A nation which has been bred on the green and rolling pastures of this sceptic isle, under the winding hedges, inside the bus shelters and behind the bike sheds of the fairest corner of this world over which God has given us everlasting dominion.

We are a nation who has shown ourselves to be destined to lead lesser races. We espouse the virtues of sportsmanship and fair play, tolerance and forgiveness, live and let live. Yet we are also a nation who will, when we think we can get away with it, stab our very best friends in the back and put our own grandmothers on the game to make a few quid.
I tell you, bothers and sisters, we have much to be proud of…
…much to be proud of indeed.

Our language is perhaps our greatest gift to the world. Taken up with alacrity by the gallant Scots, the guttural Welsh, the totally incomprehensible Irish and our charming American cousins across the water. It is a simple language—a child can speak it—my surly, teenage Son excepted; yet it is also the language of Shakespeare, Milton, Wordsworth and Archer. Is it any wonder then, that when we had civilised the peoples of the world and deemed them ready to stand beside us in the family of nations, that it was English that they chose to replace their strange heathen babbling?

As a busy philanthropist I have travelled widely both in Kent, and sometimes even further afield. And in all my travels I have never met a foreigner who did not understand English, either immediately or, in some cases, after it had been shouted at him and punctuated by few kicks up the bottom.

But I am not writing here to list the achievements of the English.

…No I am here to tell you of a threat—an insidious poison, which is eating at the very fabric of the civilised world like a flesh-eating, poisonous thing.

A world, which we, the English, have done so much to create. This is a threat more deadly than Al Qaeda, more evil than an Iranian Ayatollah, more mendacious than the French and more cynically self-serving than an American Republican Senator who has just accidentally shot a Democrat lawyer. I speak, my friends, of the humble garden gnome.

I can understand your shock. I know you all have gnomes in your street, perhaps even in your own gardens—friendly little fellows with wheelbarrows full of plants cradling quaint fishing rods in their gnarled hands. I know, I have seen them too. But I am here to tell you this is what they want you to think. As they hold their ‘Keep off the grass’ signs and beam their rosy-cheeked smiles they are planning nothing less than the overthrow of English society as we know it.

How can a few gnomes threaten us?’ I hear you ask. And I answer, God bless you. You are the Englishmen and women that I love—the people I am so very proud of. Your tolerance of the gnome in our midst is, at the same time, the defining virtue of the English character and our greatest weakness. I say yes, embrace the lonely stranger, the weak and the oppressed. Feel in his pockets; see if he is worth turning over for a few bob. But I say also take care he is not a snake in the nest or a cuckoo in the woodpile.

How many gnomes are there? Do you know? I have discovered there are already two gnomes for every man woman and child in England. Where are they all? You ask. Brothers and sisters—they are all around us! In every garden, by every pond, watching and waiting with their little gnomey eyes and their rosy, gnomey cheeks.

Do not be fooled by their whimsical smiles. This is not a time for complacency. We must act. Look what happened in Zurich; they left it too late and the cuckoo clock monopoly was lost, the Gnomes of Zurich took it all. We cannot risk the same thing happening here. I heard only this week of a poor girl was abducted by no less than seven of these freaks of nature.

This innocent waif was subjected to the most appalling depravities during which every conceivable perverted act was perpetrated upon her nubile person. Over a period of no less than six months she suffered unimaginable torments during which she was only allowed out four times a week to purchase vitamin pills, viagra and double strength red bull—which the plucky maiden forced her captors to swallow.

By her enterprising actions this quick-thinking girl was eventually able to exhaust these gnomish fiends and return to the bosom of her family and pet rabbit, but not, I hasten to add, without paying the terrible price of unwanted, teenage pregnancy! Yes, dear friends, her captors had saddled this lovely vision of budding womanhood with not one, but seven unwanted offspring! Septuplets which will forever afterwards place an almost unsupportable strain on a welfare system which is the envy of the civilised world!

Have no fear, dear friends, the gnomes will face the full force of the law as soon as they have gained sufficient body mass and had the complacent smiles surgically wiped off their faces.
Is this an isolated incident? Would that it were good people, would that it were.

I have asked Special Branch to monitor the activities of some of the Gnome ring leaders and I am able to reveal that increased politicisation within the Gnomish culture is set to unleash a tidal wave—if not a tsunami—of inconceivable horrors upon our society. Where once a Gnome was happy to hold a ‘Keep off the Grass’ sign or perhaps sit cheekily fishing beside a ‘No Fishing’ notice, I now have evidence of a new, radical Gnomish sect that will stop at nothing to achieve its evil ends.

I am, this very afternoon, ordering that all gnomes should wear an identifying red hat so that we can all see them wherever they are congregating. Gnomes will report weekly to the garden pond so that their movements can be closely monitored.

I beg you, brothers and sisters, not to take the law into your own hands. These simple measures are enough. Show these Gnomes good English tolerance one more time. Stop in the pub on the way home, have eight pints of ‘Olde Wifebeater’ and talk about the Gnomish plot. Then, if you still feel like kicking the shit out of them—well try not to get caught.

Good day people of England. God bless you. God bless the Queen. “Hurrah”

There will inevitably come a day believe me, when some misanthrope, posing as a friend, drags you to The Opera. Don't panic ... unless Wagner composed the opera, in which case playing dead will help you match the mood of the music.

But even if you have the relative good fortune to see an opera by one of the clique composers -- Verdi, Rossini, or Puccini - - you will have to prepare for your ordeal. 4 years at the Royal Academy of Music or perhaps 6 years chained to opera-oozing headphones should suffice. Or ... you could just read this guide?

WHAT TO WEAR:

Clean and pressed evening attire should be worn to any opera performance ... with the possible exception of "opera under the stars." Why dress up to spend an evening scrunched in the dark in seats apparently designed for pygmies? Good question! So you won't embarrass your escort during intermissions ... in the unlikely event he or she makes it back from the bathroom.

WHAT'S GOING ON? :

Chances are, the opera won't be in English. I know -- it's shocking. But even those relatively nice composers had the audacity to favour Italian. (You know how rude and inconsiderate foreigners can be.)

Although this can make it tougher to know what's going on, there's no need to panic. Most opera companies thoughtfully provide translations in pamphlets called libretti. Not only do libretti provide helpful plot clues, but they can be tossed at the stage in the absence of fruit.

Additionally, many opera companies project English translations onto screens throughout the performance, providing a handy excuse not to look at the singers.
But thanks to new Euro legislation, such opera aids will soon be unnecessary.

Starting next year, all operas will be required to comply with "The Uniformity Opera Plot Act" a/k/a "Leave No Opera Hater Behind," which I've reproduced here for your convenience:

Whereas, Opera is an elitist art, which shouldn't be funded by the National Lottery or the National Arts Council; and
Whereas, Nobody understands it.

Now, therefore, all opera plots shall be as follows:

ACT ONE: Man and woman meet and fall in love, and everything is hunky-dory.

ACT TWO: An obstacle to man and woman's happiness rears its ugly head. It may be another man, another woman, one or more parents, a terrible misunderstanding, a war, or a dread disease. This obstacle shall make both of them (and the audience) miserable for an interminable period of time.

ACT THREE: The suffering man and woman bemoan their tragic circumstances at the top of their lungs for at least one hour. Right before the final curtain, the soprano (i.e., the very large woman who's given you a terrible headache) dies. The entire audience cheers and she takes many bows, mistakenly thinking the cheers are for her singing ... and not her death.

HOW TO SCORE BROWNIE POINTS:

Your evening won't be complete unless you impress your date. To create the illusion that you are an educated opera buff, simply memorise these insightful observations: (Note: You needn't understand these comments. Nobody does.)
a) I've heard better high C's.
b) His vibrato sounded wide, don't you think?
c) Beethoven should have stuck to symphonies.
d) She's no Callas.
e) He's no Pavarotti.

HOW TO BEHAVE:

You're nearly ready for your opening act. Just master these etiquette rules and let the overture begin:
1. Singing along should be limited to the loud parts.
2. Yelling, "Your voice is crap, you lousy Tart!" is discouraged ... unless you're in Italy.
3. Using the conductor for target practice is frowned upon ... except by the musicians.
4. If you must chew gum, masticate in rhythm.

WHEN CAN I LEAVE?

The opera isn't over until the fat lady sings ... and sings ...sings…sings and sings ……..Sings and sings!

That smile is beautiful with all its charm
Something to give but does no harm

A smile is a frown only upside down
It has a good feeling, just look around

A smile is a flash that cannot be sold
It has everlasting pleasure we are told

A smile is like the sunshine at its very best
Some wear it all the time until they lay down to rest

A smile is valuable like silver and gold
But it cannot be bought just always on hold

A smile is nothing till someone gives it away
Just try your best to receive it some day

A smile is like a statue that enriches the mind
You cannot steal or throw away but not hard to find

A smile is for the rich also for the poor
The benefits are the same till there is no more

A smile is for everyone with its action so true
It creates happiness in the home for me and you

A smile is a smile as known to mankind
Stand up in front and smile not stand behind.