Jimbob Blakey wasn't so much given birth to as clambered right out of his mother himself. He weighed in at almost thirteen pounds, came ready-fitted with a shock of fat black hair and a couple of razor teeth. Jimbob's folks loved him like most folks love their little ones, maybe more. They'd been trying so hard for a child, suffered more mid-term miscarriages than the ewes they shuttled off to market most Thursdays. They dressed him in a one-year babygro and took him home to their hill farm. They fought to get up nights and give him his milk. His teeth made breast-feeding impossible. They sat hours gazing down in his cot. They dressed him fine and took him to their church and gave their thanks. Showed him off like the proud parents they were. Others cooed and smiled. But they never asked to hold. They gave thanks the Blakeys were happy, and that the monkey-baby had not been born to them. Jimbob's folks never gave a second thought that their boy might be different. The first Spring he walked, he stomped the moors in his welly-boots helping herd the pregnant ewes down in-by. He copied his father, kicking and cuffing at the stragglers, when the flock was returned to the hills in May. As Jimbob grew, his hair became thicker, his arms longer. His head shrunk down on his shoulders. At check-ups, nurses fixed smiles and pronounced him healthy. Doctors said, 'he'll make you a strapping lad.' His mother smiled, her heart swelled. When he was three, she sent him to nursery. She wanted him to mix with other kids. To taste life off the hard hills. She said, 'it'll do him the world of good.' Jimbob hated leaving the farm. He clung to his mother. She drove away, blinking tears. On the third day, she took a phone call. 'It's Jimbob,' they said. 'He's scaring the other kids.'The truth hit Jimbob's mother like a hammer. Question: at the end of the story Jimbob: Options: A. moves away B. is shot C. joins a circus D. not enough information === The correct answer is
C

Personally I enjoy doing things outside. You know, the good ol' nature. One time, me and my buddy Alex and some friends decided we were going to go camping. (I know, basic camping story. Well not exactly.) We planned on going for the weekend. Got to the spot and put up our tents like normal campers. But knowing myself and my friends we wanted to drink a couple beers and do some fishing. We did just that. Later that night we had started out camp fire and cooked up some links before bed time. My drunk self wanted to keep the fire going all night to prevent wild animals from coming t our sight. Well at least I thought that'd help. So I needed a bunch of wood to do so. Everyone was asleep by this point but me. So I took myself out into the woods a little deeper to grab a full broken down tree. I thought to myself, "Well if I want to utilize all of this wood I'm going to need to break it into smaller prices right?" Wrong. Well at least it was wrongful of how I planned on doing it. I attempted to break the tree in half by throwing it against another tree, as if I were as strong as the hulk or something. Once I chunked the tree at this tree I messed the entire vacation up. The tree came down on my knee and crushed it. I was in so much pain. I realized that I messed it up pretty bad so I laid there for a second trying to get back to my feet. The next day I couldn't apply any pressure and couldn't walk at all. I was dirty and smelly and needed some serious help on my leg but I was too far from any civilization. Worst nature experience ever! Question: What was wrong with the writer's knee? Options: A. It was bruised B. It was fine C. not enough information D. It was broken === The correct answer is
D

I married young, at 19, bright-eyed and hopeful, and in a few months, we will celebrate our 29th anniversary. Like all marriages, we have had our share of happy and sad, growing together as the years passed us by. My husband is my best friend, a wonderful father, a hard worker, a great provider, treats me like a queen, and loves me unconditionally. He is my soul mate in many ways. My husband is also gay. I had no idea when I married him. I was a virgin on our wedding night and had never had any type of physical relationship prior to my husband. Having nothing to compare it to, I thought our sexual intimacy was normal. It was fun, sexy, enjoyable. My husband was a giving partner, and I almost always experienced orgasm. But as the years went by, the frequency of our sexual activity became less. It was not unusual to go months without sex not for lack of trying on my part. We rarely fought, but we would fight about the growing lack of intimacy. I often wondered what it was about me that made my husband not want to have sex with me. And then one day, shortly after our 25th anniversary, I found gay porn on his computer. At first he denied everything, but finally, through tears, he confessed that he'd had these same-sex attractions as long as he could remember. In his teens, a church counsellor had told him marriage would "cure" him. Feeling as though I had just been punched in the gut, I was heartbroken. I felt betrayed, confused, angry, sad, and yet, miraculously relieved. There was nothing wrong with me I was just not his type. The emotions flew through me leaving my head and heart confused. What now? I loved this man with every fibre of my being. We had a good life together, sex aside, and had built a family. We were happy. I did not want a divorce and neither did he. Question: For how long has the husband felt attracted to the same sex? Options: A. for several years B. not enough information C. since they got married D. for as long as he can remember === The correct answer is
D