I have always been a "handyman" involved in various building projects around the house. One particular time I was refinishing a section of ceiling. I had laid in the wiring and insulation by myself and all that remained was nailing a number of heavy 4ftx8ft gypsum wallboard panels onto the rafters of the 8 ft ceiling. I had arranged for a paid assistant to help me since the height of the ceiling and the weight of the wallboard was more than I could handle. When the time came, the assistant didn't show up and did not even call. I was pissed as hell. After my messages were not returned, I had what can only be called a "rage" of determination. Using a six foot ladder, three 2x4s and my head(literally) I hefted the heavy wallboard, Using leverage I placed them one by one on the overhead rafters, held and braced them with my head, glued and nailed them there all by myself. About a half hour after I finished, I was standing there smugly trying to figure how I did it so easily when there was a knock at the door. Of course it was the assistant with a lot of excuses. He seemed surprised when I told him I was finished. He looked up at the ceiling and said "how in the world did you get those up there by yourself?" I said, "Oh, believe me, You helped more than you will ever know!" I learned a lot from that. Anger has its place in your life. You have to control it and use it directly to solve a problem. To this day I do not know how I accomplished what I did the way I did it. But, if I hadn't been so angry I would never have attempted it at all. Life is full of little lessons. Pay attention to them and learn. If you have to lash out, lash at solving the situation you are in instead the person who caused it. It is significantly more productive that way. Why was the handyman angry? A. not enough information B. Because we could not do the job alone C. Because the assistant did not return his messages D. Because he hurt his neck lifting those panels
C

(Question)
Yes. 20 years ago. When I was a lot younger. I was victimised by a gang of bent police men, who arrested me and set me up to get charged with something that I did not do which I believe was connected to other criminals who live in my area, who I believe were connected to a gang of DJ's who were involved stealing intellectual and copyright works from me (likely their party organisers and drug dealer buddies). I was sent to court and found guilty based on no evidence by a magistrate court judge who was later struck off for corruption after defrauding an old lady of over a million pounds! I was not put in prison for this minor offense but did receive a minor criminal record. This criminal records the same DJ's and bent ex-police have used to ruin my reputation and career. One of the bent policemen, who incidentally had already been thrown out of the police force for car insurance fraud, even turned up at the uni I went to and spread vicious slander to ruin me there, and in the area that I lived at the time. I was then victimised by the people at the famous college that I went to and all my intellectual and copyright works stolen. Which I note, generated millions for others. Once they made their money and gained credibility on the back of my hard work, innovation and some may say genius, the thieves then did all they could to ruin my reputation in the entertainment industry and in the area that I live. Making my life extremely hard for no more reason than having my work stolen. If I wasn't so tough, and for a few people left who have at least some integrity, I would be dead now, like the rest of their victims. I have lost respect for quite a few people who I used to think were really talented. I now understand where there talent comes from Shame on them. How does the author feel about getting her intellectual and copyright works stolen? A. she is very upset B. she is indifferent C. not enough information D. she is forgiving
(Answer)
A

Ques: I was 14 at the time. My family and I took a family vacation to Tybee Island, Georgia. It is a beautiful place that I would highly recommend. I told my family that I was going to go find a port-a-pot. So I head off by myself. I'm in the port-a-pot, i'm in there for roughly 10 minutes. (you can assume what I was doing) I wash my hands and get ready to leave the port-a-pot, and I tried to open the door and it was locked. I'm claustrophobic, so I start to FREAK OUT. I started banging on the door, running into the door with all of my weight. Nothing was helping. I then start crying, I thought for sure that I was going to die. I knew it was the end, at the age of 14, locked in a port-a-pot, in 95 degree weather in the middle of a beach in Georgia. Looking back, i'm curious as to why my family never came to look for me, I was gone for like 30 minutes. So I'm banging on the door continuously, bawling my eyes out. Then a man opened the door for me, from the outside. He was about 6'3 with dreads about 12 inches long and weighed about 280 pounds. I ran out of the port-a-pot and jumped on the guy and gave him a hug and told him that I loved him and that he saved my life. I don't know how he managed to open the door for me, but I definitely know that my 14 year old self owes that man my life. I'm not sure where he is in life, or what he's doing, but I hope God is blessing him abundantly. It is definitely a funny story to tell my friends. After the author found her parents, they were probably: A. Happy to see her back after 30 minutes B. Angry at her for taking so long C. Confused about why she was with the man in dreads D. not enough information
Ans: A

I'm know 21 so I'm going to count that still as a kid because the world is still new to me. I work know security and one night at around 2am I walked in the bathroom because a customer complained about a man yelling in the bathroom. I told my partner I would go check it out by myself so he could stay and keep quality control of who comes in the venue. I walk in and in the first cubicle I could see lots and lots of blood on the floor and a pair of feet placed as if he was sitting down. I quickly go to the next cubicle asking at the same time if the person was OK obviously with no response. I look over and it was a horrible bloody mess. I quickly get on the radio and tell my partner to call police and ambulance and to put the place on lock down. I walk around to the from of the cubicle and kick open the door. The man had grabbed a straight razor and cut his arms extremely deep from the wrist downwards all the way to his elbow palms up. On both arms mind you. A good example of what it would look like would be the scene from the terminator 2 where Arnold cuts the skin off from his arm. The ambulance came and had to call another team to collect the body. The building was closed for around a day and a half they had to repaint and do all sorts of things because of so much blood. Ill say they do not train you for seeing such horrible things or even mention that it can happen I'm lucky enough to have a strong head and can handle seeing such horror. Of course Im not 100% OK from it and now keep a close eye on the bathrooms. But I'm OK enough to continue working and only saw a psychologist twice about it. So yea that's the worst thing I have seen In my life. Why did the ambulance have to come? A. not enough information B. The author was having an emergency and needed to see a psychologist. C. Arnold had cut the skin off from his arm. D. A person had slit their arm in the restroom cubicle.
D