28% pure and living life to the fullest..

My friend Cristie sent me this quiz on myspace to find out how pure I was. I felt quite safe doing this one cause I feel am quite a good person. Boy do these quizzes bring one crashing back down to Earth hard. She as 44% pure. I figured I would easily show her up with at least a 60% or so...

I was raised right......I promise......I never would curse around my mother.....I would never cheat. Now why would this quiz only find those two things basically that I HAD NOT done and the rest of the stuff that I had...ok there were a few more things on here. Anyway tell me what your score was?

You Are 28% Pure

You've either done it, thought about it, or at least heard about it. Luckily, there's a few things left for you to try!

How Pure Are You?

TWENTY-EIGHT? TWENTY FRIGGIN EIGHT? I really got slammed hard by this one. She still talks to me ....hmmm maybe it was that one night on the beach in Cancun.........or was she ms Puerto Rico.....who knows? ;)
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I slept the same amount of hours as I have been sleeping all week but I did it in the morning and not evening as I had all week. I actually feel like I have had a full 8 hour nap. Odd how timing works sometimes. I received this email and I would like to post a prt of it here. I am sure everyone has heard of Steve Irwin, croc hunter, and his death after the stingray attack. This i an excerpt from an article about him written by Mary Beth Crain. I can email anyone the entire story if you would like to read...very cool short story about a true adventurer
Yet the truth of the matter, I now believe, is that Irwin was a man of enormous intensity who sincerely believed that "God put me on this earth for a mission, and that mission is wildlife conservation." He was born to his calling; at the age of eight he was already catching crocs, and he took to animals, and danger, "like a fish to water," as he aptly put it. He knew that he was living on a constant precipice, but, as he said, "I have no fear of losing my life," and "Fear helps me from making mistakes—but I make a lot of mistakes." Yet Irwin never let fear stand in the way of his love of life. He was out there risking, every day, and learning and growing and, well, living. His death is being called, of course, a tragedy. He was only 44. He was a happy husband and father of two great kids. He was a great conservationist who, had he lived, could have done so much more for wildlife preservation. One of his dreams, for instance, was to use the money he was making from royalties and his famed Australia Zoo to buy large tracts of wilderness land and create wilderness reserves that could never be bought by developers. But is his death really all that tragic? I know a lot of people who are so afraid of dying that they end up afraid to live. So afraid of failure that they end up failing to try. It makes you ask the question, what's worse? Living an unlived life, or dying a lived one? We know what Irwin's answer would have been. I can't say I'll miss Steve Irwin, because the only time I ever watched him was when I was channel surfing. But I can say that even in death, I envy him. I'm 55, out of shape, diabetic, and afraid of dying. I could get in shape, change my diet and my attitude, and really kick ass and start living, but I haven't. When you think about it, I live in just as big a danger zone as Steve Irwin did. I could use a little more of his hyperactivity, or, if you prefer, boundless enthusiasm. I could use a shot or two of his brazen disregard for fear and disdain for inertia. I'm not saying I need to wrestle crocs or hunt pythons, but I wouldn't mind experiencing life to the fullest instead of waking up every morning afraid to test my blood sugar.
To me, Steve Irwin's death is a reminder that everybody's life is an enigma, and that we are not here to rate others, only to improve ourselves. I was quick to dismiss Irwin as a numbskull nutcase who got what he deserved—until I looked at myself and realized that I am certainly no paragon of wise living. Something tells me that the ebullient, passionate, adventurous-to-the-end Mr. Irwin was too busy living to pass judgment on how others spent their time. That—and not his risk-taking excesses—could be the real lesson of his death—a lesson we all could learn.

Very well put Mary Beth Crain!!!