Why Be Wacky?

My father used to always make us laugh growing up. He would tell funny jokes, one liners, funny stories and always seemed to be entertaining. My mom would always play music especially during a thunder storm. When the music was over, the thunder disappeared. My house was magical.

After I grew up, I became a Pediatric Nurse and used all kinds of funny things or toys in my practice to help ease children's fears and make their life fun even though they were in the hospital and sometimes very sick. I became real good at it. I would look for ways to become "outrageous" and bring life into people's worlds.

When I met Patch Adams I knew that I wasn't alone. Being "wacky" had a sacredness to it and I saw how it changed people's lives.

Once a fifth grader said to me, "Nurse Donna, you're not wacky today". I smiled when she began to explain how I had been just "ordinary" that day and not my wacky self. It was then I realized that being the "clown" or being "wacky" became an expectation and that when people saw me they wanted to have that "good feeling" all over.

When I was just plain Nurse Donna they didn't have that.

I went to Gesundheit! Institute and re-established who I was. I was transformed into "Gesoonie" the clown and I am featured in the documentary film "The Real Patch Adams". So far I have clowned on two continents (hoping to hit all of them!) and enjoy clowning and lecturing on humor.

Come join me and help transform the world........

Donna Marie Laino

P.S. I still laugh at my dad's same jokes when I hear someone tell them. Dad has passed on but I remember the jokes! We relive our time with dad each time we think of them! I miss you dad but I smile when I think of you. I am a chip off the old block. I feel honored to have been inspired by you. Thank you for being yourself. It has allowed me to be who I am and I am touching many people because of it.

I am spreading the JOY, one smile at a time!

Friday, May 30, 2008

Humor - Smart Dogs Get The Last Laugh

A wealthy old Gentleman decides to go on a hunting safari inAfrica, taking his faithful, elderlyJack Russellnamed Killer, along for the company.

One day the old Jack Russell starts chasingrabbits and before long, discovers that he's lost. Wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch.


The old Jack Russell thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep
> doo-doo now!" Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old Jack Russell exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder, if there are any more around here?"

Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees.

"Whew!", says the leopard, "That was close! That old Jack Russell nearly had me!"

Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes, but the old Jack Russell sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up.

The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.

The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!

Now, the old Jack Russell sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?", but instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old Jack Russell says...

"Where's that damn monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard !

Moral of this story...

Don't mess with the old dogs...age and treachery will always overcome youth and inexperience! BS and brilliance only come with age and experience.




Enjoy your life today!

Donna Marie Laino, RN