Sandra having a romance with her secret lover when suddenly heard her husband car enter the garage.
Because panic, she said to her boyfriend: “Brian, jump through the window now!”
Brian hesitant because its raining. Sandra ask him to do it fast.
“Come on, if my husband know it, he can kill us!”
Because heard Sandra Husband foot step closing the room, Brian jump naked.
He fall in the middle of Marathon competition for Independence Day.
See the one of them is naked, an athlete ask him.
First athlete: “Are you always naked when running?”
Brian: “Yes, because the wind flow make its refreshing me.”
Second athlete: “Are you always carry your clothes while running?”
Brian: “Yes of course, because I will use my clothes when finishing the race.”
Third athlete: Are you always using the condom when running?”
Brian: “Oww no, when its rain only!”

How You Born

When I came from?
A boy ask his father, “Dad please tell me about my birth”.
His Father answer, “Okay my son, I think its time to you know about it”.
Five Years ago, Me and your mother find each other in yahoo chat room.
Through email, we made appointment to seeing each other in a cybercafe.
We order special place. Your mother agreed to download from my hadrdrive.
I start prepare to upload.
However none of us using firewall, and its too late to press the delete button.
Finally, nine month after that, there is a little Pop-up with a message: “YOU’VE GOT MALE…”

Lord Voldemort

"He-who-shall-not-be-named"
"You-Know-Who"

He is a Dark Lord

Lord Voldemort led a "Dark Arts" campaign in which he was personally responsible for the murder of hundreds of muggles and wizards. His killing assistants were called "Death Eaters" and his official symbol is the "Death Mark". Lord Voldemort killed Harry's parents when he was about 1 year old and attempted to kill Harry. But mysteriously his attack on Harry was repelled, leaving Harry with a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead, and Voldemort lost nearly all of his power. He has been hiding the rest of Harry's life, slowly rebuilding his powers to someday return and finally destroy Harry. Nearly everyone in the wizarding world is extremely afraid of Lord Voldemort, and will not even utter his name for fear that that may give him strength to return.

Avada Kedavra!!!!!

Biography of J. K. Rowling

My mother and father were both Londoners. They met on a train travelling from King's Cross station to Arbroath in Scotland when they were both eighteen; my father was off to join the Royal Navy, my mother to join the WRNS (the women's equivalent). My mother said she was cold, my father offered her a half share in his coat, and they got married just over a year later, when they were nineteen.

Both left the navy and moved to the outskirts of Bristol, in the West of England. My mother gave birth to me when she was twenty. I was a rotund baby. The description in 'Philosopher's Stone' of the photographs of 'what appeared to be a beach ball wearing different coloured bobble hats' would also apply to the pictures of my early years.

My sister Di arrived a year and eleven months after me. The day of her birth is my earliest memory, or my earliest datable memory, anyway. I distinctly remember playing with a bit of plasticine in the kitchen while my father rushed in and out of the room, hurrying backwards and forwards to my mother, who was giving birth in their bedroom. I know I didn't invent this memory because I checked the details later with my mother. I also have a vivid mental picture of walking into their bedroom a little while later, hand in hand with my father, and seeing my mother lying in bed in her nightdress next to my beaming sister, who is stark naked with a full head of hair and looks about five years old. Although I clearly pasted together this bizarre false memory out of bits of hearsay when I was a child, it is so vivid that it still comes to mind if I ever think about Di being born.

Di had - and still has - very dark, almost black hair, and dark brown eyes like my mother's, and she was considerably prettier than I was (and she still is). As compensation, I think, my parents decided that I must be 'the bright one'. We both resented our labels. I really wanted to be less freckly-beach-ball-like, and Di, who is now a lawyer, felt justifiably annoyed that nobody had noticed she was not just a pretty face. This undoubtedly contributed to the fact that we spent about three quarters of our childhood fighting like a pair of wildcats imprisoned together in a very small cage. To this day, Di bears a tiny scar just above her eyebrow from the cut I gave her when I threw a battery at her - but I didn't expect to hit her, I thought she'd duck! (This excuse didn't cut much ice with my mother, who was angrier than I had ever seen her).

We left the bungalow when I was four and moved to Winterbourne, also on the outskirts of Bristol. Now we lived in a semi-detached house with STAIRS, which prompted Di and I to re-enact, over and over again, a clifftop drama in which one of us would 'dangle' from the topmost stair, holding hands with the other and pleading with them not to let go, offering all manner of bribery and blackmail, until falling to their 'death'. We found this endlessly amusing. I think the last time we played the cliff game was two Christmases ago; my nine-year-old daughter didn't find it nearly as funny as we did.

The small amount of time that we didn't spend fighting, Di and I were best friends. I told her a lot of stories and sometimes didn't even have to sit on her to make her stay and listen. Often the stories became games in which we both played regular characters. I was extremely bossy when I stage-managed these long-running plays but Di put up with it because I usually gave her star parts.

There were lots of children around our age living in our new street, among them a brother and sister whose surname was Potter. I always liked their name, whereas I wasn't very fond of my own; 'Rowling' (the first syllable of which is pronounced 'row' as in boat, rather than 'row' as in argument) lent itself to woeful jokes such as 'Rowling stone', 'Rowling pin' and so on. Anyway, the brother has since cropped up in the press claiming to 'be' Harry. His mother has also told reporters that he and I used to dress up as wizards. Neither of these claims is true; in fact, all I remember of the boy in question was that he rode a 'Chopper', which was the bicycle everybody wanted in the seventies, and once threw a stone at Di, for which I hit him hard over the head with a plastic sword (I was the only one allowed to throw things at Di).

I enjoyed school in Winterbourne. It was a very relaxed environment; I remember lots of pottery making, drawing and story writing, which suited me perfectly. However, my parents had always harboured a dream of living in the country, and around my ninth birthday we moved for the last time, to Tutshill, a small village just outside Chepstow, in Wales.

The move coincided almost exactly with the death of my favourite grandparent, Kathleen, whose name I later took when I needed an extra initial. No doubt the first bereavement of my life influenced my feelings about my new school, which I didn't like at all. We sat all day at roll-top desks facing the blackboard. There were old inkwells set into the desktops. There was a second hole in my desk, which had been gouged out with the point of a compass by the boy who had sat there the year before. He had obviously worked away quietly out of the sight of the teacher. I thought this was a great achievement, and set to work enlarging the hole with my own compass, so that by the time I left that classroom you could comfortably wiggle your thumb through it.

My secondary school, Wyedean, where I went when I was eleven, was the place I met Sean Harris, to whom Chamber of Secrets is dedicated and who owned the original Ford Anglia. He was the first of my friends to learn to drive and that turquoise and white car meant FREEDOM and no more having to ask my father to give me lifts, which is the worst thing about living in the countryside when you are a teenager. Some of the happiest memories of my teenage years involve zooming off into the darkness in Sean's car. He was the first person with whom I really discussed my serious ambition to be a writer and he was also the only person who thought I was bound to be a success at it, which meant much more to me than I ever told him at the time.

The worst thing that happened during my teenage years was my mother becoming ill. She was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, which is a disease of the central nervous system, when I was fifteen. Although most people with multiple sclerosis experience periods of remission - when their illness stops progressing for a while, or even improves - Mum was unlucky; from the time of her diagnosis onwards she seemed to become slowly but steadily worse. I think most people believe, deep down, that their mothers are indestructible; it was a terrible shock to hear that she had an incurable illness, but even then, I did not fully realise what the diagnosis might mean.

I left school in 1983 and went to study at the University of Exeter, on the south coast of England. I studied French, which was a mistake; I had succumbed to parental pressure to study 'useful' modern languages as opposed to 'but-where-will-it-lead?' English and really should have stood my ground. On the plus side, studying French meant that I had a year living in Paris as part of my course.

After leaving university I worked in London; my longest job was with Amnesty International, the organisation that campaigns against human rights abuses all over the world. But in 1990, my then boyfriend and I decided to move up to Manchester together. It was after a weekend's flat-hunting, when I was travelling back to London on my own on a crowded train, that the idea for Harry Potter simply fell into my head.

I had been writing almost continuously since the age of six but I had never been so excited about an idea before. To my immense frustration, I didn't have a functioning pen with me, and I was too shy to ask anybody if I could borrow one. I think, now, that this was probably a good thing, because I simply sat and thought, for four (delayed train) hours, and all the details bubbled up in my brain, and this scrawny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who didn't know he was a wizard became more and more real to me. I think that perhaps if I had had to slow down the ideas so that I could capture them on paper I might have stifled some of them (although sometimes I do wonder, idly, how much of what I imagined on that journey I had forgotten by the time I actually got my hands on a pen).

I began to write 'Philosopher's Stone' that very evening, although those first few pages bear no resemblance at all to anything in the finished book. I moved up to Manchester, taking the swelling manuscript with me, which was now growing in all sorts of strange directions, and including ideas for the rest of Harry's career at Hogwarts, not just his first year. Then, on December 30th 1990, something happened that changed both my world and Harry's forever: my mother died.

It was a terrible time. My father, Di and I were devastated; she was only forty five years old and we had never imagined - probably because we could not bear to contemplate the idea - that she could die so young. I remember feeling as though there was a paving slab pressing down upon my chest, a literal pain in my heart.

Nine months later, desperate to get away for a while, I left for Portugal, where I had got a job teaching English in a language institute. I took with me the still-growing manuscript of Harry Potter, hopeful that my new working hours (I taught in the afternoon and evening) would lend themselves to pressing on with my novel, which had changed a lot since my mother had died. Now, Harry's feelings about his dead parents had become much deeper, much more real. In my first weeks in Portugal I wrote my favourite chapter in Philosopher's Stone, The Mirror of Erised.

I had hoped that when I returned from Portugal I would have a finished book under my arm. In fact, I had something even better: my daughter. I had met and married a Portuguese man, and although the marriage did not work out, it had given me the best thing in my life. Jessica and I arrived in Edinburgh, where my sister Di was living, just in time for Christmas 1994.

I intended to start teaching again and knew that unless I finished the book very soon, I might never finish it; I knew that full-time teaching, with all the marking and lesson planning, let alone with a small daughter to care for single-handedly, would leave me with absolutely no spare time at all. And so I set to work in a kind of frenzy, determined to finish the book and at least try and get it published. Whenever Jessica fell asleep in her pushchair I would dash to the nearest cafe and write like mad. I wrote nearly every evening. Then I had to type the whole thing out myself. Sometimes I actually hated the book, even while I loved it.

Finally it was done. I covered the first three chapters in a nice plastic folder and set them off to an agent, who returned them so fast they must have been sent back the same day they arrived. But the second agent I tried wrote back and asked to see the rest of the manuscript. It was far and away the best letter I had ever received in my life, and it was only two sentences long.

It took a year for my new agent, Christopher, to find a publisher. Lots of them turned it down. Then, finally, in August 1996, Christopher telephoned me and told me that Bloomsbury had 'made an offer.' I could not quite believe my ears. 'You mean it's going to be published?' I asked, rather stupidly. 'It's definitely going to be published?' After I had hung up, I screamed and jumped into the air; Jessica, who was sitting in her high-chair enjoying tea, looked thoroughly scared.

And you probably know what happened next.

from: http://www.jkrowling.com

Poem

The best poem

of 2008

This poem was

nominated by UN

as the best poem

of 2008,

Written by

an African Kid

When I born, I black

When I grow up, I black

When I go in Sun, I black

When I scared, I black

When I sick, I black

And when I die, I still black

And you white fellow

When you born, you pink

When you grow up, you white

When you go in sun, you red

When you cold, you blue

When you scared, you yellow

When you sick, you green

And when! You die , you gray

And you calling me colored?

Five Reasons iPhone Will Win Why?

Why?

Having now wandered in the wilds of various cellphones over the last few months, I am re-reminded why iPhone is underestimated. I have a Treo 700, a Blackberry 8800, and a Samsung TV phone, and they all suck. Here are five things that bug me about the abovementioned trio, and that favor the iPhone:

• Mobile browers are awful. The Treo isn't bad, and it's the best of the above three, but the Samsung and Blackberrry browsers should be outlawed. They are that bad. They are so bad that Blackberry users' opinions about mobile services, mobile startups, etc. should be summarily dismissed.

iPhone: Browser is reputedly very good.

• Touch screens rule. Once you've gone touch you'll never go back. Treo has it, Blackberry doesn't, and it drives me nuts. Trying to use a thumb wheel to touch a specific screen element is like dancing about architecture. It's briefly mildly entertaining, but ultimately stupid.

iPhone: Touchscreen. 'Nuff said.

• Big screens rule. The Samsung screen is teensy and irritating. The Blackberry and Treo screens are bigger and better, but I want more. I hate having online real estate so crunched. It feels so ... 640x480.

iPhone: Big, bright mofo screen.

• Mobile fonts are shit. The Samsung and Blackberry have fonts that only an MS-DOS fan could love. They are clunky, brain-battering and largely unreadable. The Treo fonts are marginally better, but they're still woeful.

iPhone: Lovely fonts, at least in pictures. Would design-obsessed SteveJ ever have it otherwise?

• Mobile interfaces are thoughtless. The bizarro combination of escape key and menu key on the Blackberry -- neither of which are labeled in a way that gives any indication what they do -- is maddening. Controls are highly modal, which means something that works one way in one app works totally differently in another. A little thoughtful UI design would transform the market in a heartbeat.

Dr. Dieter Zetsche

Dr. Dieter Zetsche Dr. Dieter Zetsche: "The Group name 'Daimler' clearly indicates that we are writing a new chapter of our history, while at the same time continuing our tradition as the inventor of the automobile. We're combining our proud origins and a bright future — honoring our long tradition and harnessing our pioneering spirit. The name Daimler is an expression of this dual identity." Mercedes-Benz Cars with Four Percent Sales Increase through September 122,200 Mercedes-Benz, AMG, smart, and Maybach passenger vehicles sold in September 25,000 orders already placed for the new GLK even before its official market launch smart once again sets sales record in September In a continuing very difficult market environment in Western Europe, Japan and the U.S., the Mercedes-Benz Cars division still performed well. In total, the division has increased sales by four percent since the beginning of the year. A total of 979,800 Mercedes-Benz, AMG, smart, and Maybach brand vehicles were sold over the first nine months of the year (Jan.-Sept. 2007: 942,300). Deliveries in September totaled 122,200 passenger vehicles (September 2007: 124,600, minus two percent). The Mercedes-Benz brand sold 110,700 vehicles worldwide in September (September 2007: 114,100, minus three percent). From January to September, 877,800 units were delivered to customers thus increasing sales by one percent compared to the same period last year (Jan.-Sept. 2007: 872,700). The smart brand once again posted a significant sales increase in September, with 11,500 customers opting for the smart fortwo worldwide (Sept. 2007: 10,500). With an increase of ten percent, sales of the two-seater reached a new record level. Deliveries of the smart fortwo through September rose by 53 percent to 101,900 units (Jan.-Sept. 2007: 66,400). “Along with the new-generation smart fortwo electric drive, we also presented the first hybrid production car from Mercedes-Benz in September,” says Dr. Klaus Maier, Executive Vice President Sales and Marketing Mercedes-Benz Cars. “The S 400 BlueHYBRID consumes only 7.9 liters of fuel per 100 kilometers, which makes it the most fuel efficient gasoline-powered luxury sedan in the world and also marks a further milestone on our Road to the Future.” The S 400 BlueHYBRID will go on sale in April 2009. Sales in the C-Class segment continued to develop very well in September: Deliveries of the station wagon model more than tripled to the record level of 8,100 units (September 2007: 2,300). Customers are also very enthusiastic about the new CLC sports coupe. Sales of the CLCalmost doubled in September to 3,100 units (September 2007: 1,600). All in all, sales of the Mercedes-Benz models in the C-Class segment rose seven percent to 44,100 units in September (September 2007: 41,300). A- and B-Class models recorded a combined sales increase of eight percent last month, to 28,100 vehicles (September 2007: 26,000). The new GLK-Class compact SUV is already generating a huge amount of interest among customers even before its official market launch on October 18. 25,000 orders for the model had already been placed worldwide by the end of September. High demand for updated models enabled Mercedes-Benz to increase sales on its home German market by six percent last month, to 30,300 passenger vehicles (September 2007: 28,700). Deliveries in France grew by 27 percent to 5,100 units (September 2007: 4,000), mainly due to the full availability of the new A- and B-Class as well as the high demand for the C-Class models. Mercedes-Benz also continues to grow rapidly in China, where sales of the brand with the star rose 61 percent in September to 4,400 units (September 2007: 2,700). Sales in the Asia/Pacific region as a whole increased by six Percent to 15,300 units (September 2007: 14,300). Mercedes-Benz sold 18,800 vehicles in the U.S. last month, a decrease of 16 percent from the 22,500 units delivered in September 2007.