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By now, it's no secret that Seth Rollins has one of the best walkout songs in pro wrestling. "The Second Coming" is a great theme song to get fans psyched for some live WWE action, as AXS witnessed first-hand from a recent house show at Madison Square Garden.
The song, performed by CFO$, is loud, heavy and chock full of metal guitar ridiculousness. It's quite literally a perfect fit for Rollins' walkout.
In this video clip captured by an AXS contributor, fans at the "World's Most Famous Arena" loudly pop for "The Architect," as he walks out to the tune. The show featured some of the biggest and baddest superstars on the current WWE roster, but Rollins received one of the top crowd reactions of the night. The reason? He's an excellent in-ring performer and a fantastic entertainer on the mic. This is a guy who knows how to cut a solid promo, while also delivering inside the ring.
Over 12,000 fans showed up for the WWE's SummerSlam Heatwave Tour at "The Garden," and Rollins was one of the top attractions. The Iowa native is sound fundamentally as a wrestler, one of the main reasons why Monday Night Raw is sometimes referred to as "Monday Night Rollins." He's expected to be a featured performer on most of the WWE's upcoming pay-per-views.
The full fight card for November's Survivor Series pay-per-view special event hasn't yet been announced, but it's a near-guarantee that Rollins will be part of the show. There's literally no way that the WWE passes on Rollins representing the Raw brand for "Team Red." Tickets for Survivor Series are on sale right here on AXS.
Seth Rollins walkout from crowd view #wwe #WWEMSG pic.twitter.com/v62VYnUrcz— Eric Holden (@ericholden82) July 8, 2018


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Star Child Announced for PlayStation VR at Sony's E3 Press Conference
In Sony's PlayStation VR portion of the PlayStation E3 2017 Press Conference, they announced Star Child. Developed by Game Trust, there is little actually known about the game besides what we see in the trailer (below).
It seems like a space-themed 2.5D, side-scrolling platformer, with key science fiction tones. And besides that, nothing else is really known other than the title.
Check out Star Child below, and let us know what you think of this enigmatic title. Take a peek at the trailer below (courtesy of YouTuber XCageGame):

subset: commoncrawl


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Create festive and customized mason jar wraps for candles and treats using your embroidery machine. Three multi format embroidery design files are included with this project including a Christmas wrap, Hanukkah and a buttonhole file for your wrap closure. A PDF file is included for project preparation and an instructional project video is available on FB/EmbroideryM.O.M.
This is for personal use and designs files cannot be shared. Your embroidery friends may visit this site to download their design file gift from EmbroideryM.O.M.


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Tuberculosis Treatment & Control
Arogyavaram Medical Centre, formerly known as Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium is a well equipped 350 bedded General Hospital , and was inaugurated in the year 1915 by The Lord Pent land, The Governor of Madras. Dr. Christian Frimodt Moller was appointed as the First Medical Superintendent. It has rendered a pioneering service in the treatment of Tuberculosis in this country. With the Ushering in of the era of Domiciliary care of TB (which was also advocated by this Institution as early as 1920) the need for sanatorium diminished. Today TB has re-emerged to be the number one killer disease with great losses in terms of human life and disability. With the existing social, religious and cultural restrictions on the women in this part of the country, the problem of women with TB is an emergency on its own.
It was in the early years of the present century that the problem of Tuberculosis began to be faced by the general public. The attitude to the disease was one of despondency. Even in the west of situation was no better and hopes of cure waned as method after method was tired with little success. Thus the situation appeared to be rather hopeless and the isolation of the TB patients to prevent infection to others in special institution called "Sanatoira" was thought of as the only service that could be rendered to them. This was the atmosphere in which a beginning was made with Sanatorium Treatment to help suffers from Tuberculosis whose state seemed so helpless and hopeless. In such a situation, the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium at Arogyavaram was the first Sanatorium in South India.
The climate is more or less equitable and hence all seasons are beneficial for the treatment of any disease. It was registered as a Charitable Institution under Charitable Society Act of 1914, and has rendered yeomen service in the cause of Tuberculosis and its name and fame spread far and wide, patients came from all parts of India and even beyond the borders. The Second decade in the life of the sanatorium was one of steady growth in all directions. The Institution took up the training of Medical and Paramedical workers from other Institutions and in 1927 Laboratory Technicians Course was started. Advances were made in treatment along the lines found useful in the west.
- The Domiciliary care of TB was advocated by this institution.
- Trial studies for SM, RMP, INH etc.,
- Trial studies for BCG Vaccine.
- First Lung Surgery in the Country.
- The first Thoracoplasty operation in India was done at this centre.
- The pioneering survey for TB in the region was taken up by this institution in response to the government of India's request to study the immediate effect of BCG vaccination in Indian Children and a research unit called "Madanapalle Tuberculosis Research Unit" (MTRU) was started.
Advances were made in treatment along the lines found useful in the west.
Surgery was developed particularly from 1928-29. The introduction of surgical method in the cure of Tuberculosis enabled Sanatorium to accept for treatment of moderately advanced cases also. The First Thoracoplasty Operation in India was done here at our Institution around 1922, the surgical unit was gradually equipped
Before introducing new drugs in the market for treatment of Tuberculosis, they were first made available to the Sanatorium for trials. As a consequence, laboratory work was suitably developed specially in the study of the occurrence of resistant bacilli to different to different drugs. A lung condition called "Tropical Eosinophilia" was first described from the wards of sanatorium and further studies on this were done here for the first time.
Government of India requested Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium to conduct a pilot investigation in Madanapalle Town to study the immediate effect of BCG Vaccination in Indian Children, first community-wide X-ray survey for tuberculosis in India in Madanapalle.


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Welcome to our new website!
Welcome to our new website.
We have the pleasure of presenting our new web page and in addition a Blog for Autos Custodia which can be updated weekly with our latest relevant news informing you of new products and developments.
We have created a site for Revival which is modern, intuitive and user friendly allowing you to navigate easily. The design is responsive to any device whether using your tablet, desktop and mobile. Wherever you are you can access www.autoscustodia.com for all your requirements.
We hope you enjoy using our web and should you have any comments or suggestions we would be happy to hear them.


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We did not find results for: ABIODUN K.G.B. ONAFEKO v. GOOGLE, LLC et al.
Try the suggestions below or type a new query above.
- Check your spelling.
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- Try different words that mean the same thing.
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BNSF 5923 & 9540 are on the rear of an eastbound coal train stopped on the single track waiting for permission to proceed.
A westbound BNSF coal empty rolls through Nebraska's Sand Hills at Ashby on May 22, 2014, led by a pair of GE ES44AC locomotives.
BNSF 5645 & 8582 with westbound empties between Hyannis & Ashby.
BNSF 5846 waits for a signal to proceed east.
An eastbound loaded coal train, between Ashby & Hyannis, traverses one of the few remaining sections of single track on the Sandhills Subdivision.
Sandhills SD60sA Burlington Northern coal empty is westbound out of Ashby, Nebraska, heading for Alliance on a trip through the Sandhills on May 11, 1995. A trio of EMD SD60s power the ... (more)
BNSF 6434 & 9676 lead eastbound loads through the sand hills.
East end of Ashby has an eastbound freight waiting on this empty coal train to clear. The Sand Hills Sub in mainly double track, but there are sections of single track too. This section of the San... (more)
BN 5598 leads a coal train along Hwy 2 near Ashby, NE in May of 1991. I always liked these GE's on coal trains.
Out in the vastness of the Nebraska Sandhills, Cow Country, BN 5088 with Santa Fe partner leads another string of coal empties west towards Alliance and the Powder River mines. This line was once ... (more)
BNSF GE ES44AC No. 5777 leads an eastbound coal train east of Ashby, Nebraska, over the Sand Hills Subdivision on May 19, 2006.
Loads east—empties west BNSF coal trains meet west of Ashby, Nebraska, on BNSF's Sand Hills Subdivision during the afternoon of August 5, 2005.
A loaded coal train traverses through the S-curve between Ashby and Hyannis on its way toward Ravenna
The BNSF 6320 cruises through the Sand Hills meeting an opposing empty hopper on double track.
Eastbound loads race across the Sand Hills region of Nebraska on BNSF's busy Sand Hills Sub.


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Material Type
Call Number
Item Available
Bayport Public Library
Lake Elmo Library
Park Grove Library (Cottage Grove)
R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury)
Bound With These Titles
On Order
An epic and transporting novel, the latest installment of the "h eart-wrenching, uplifting, and utterly enthralling" (Lucy Foley, author of The Guest List ) Seven Sisters series, unravelling between the dazzling streets of modern-day New York City and the breathtaking plains of 1940s colonial Kenya.
Electra d'Aplièse is a top model who seems to have it all: beauty, fame, and wealth. But beneath the glittery veneer, she's cracking under all the pressure. When her father dies, she turns to alcohol and drugs to ease the pain. As friends and colleagues fear for her health, Electra receives a shocking letter from a stranger who claims to be her grandmother.
In 1939, New Yorker Cecily Huntley-Morgan arrives in Kenya's Lake Naivasha region for the exciting chance to stay with her godmother, the famous socialite Kiki Preston. But after a sheltered upbringing, she's astounded by the hedonistic antics of the other ex-pats in the infamous Happy Valley set. Cecily soon grows to love her stunning but complicated new home, and she even accepts a proposal of marriage from an enigmatic older cattle farmer. After a shocking discovery and with war looming, Cecily feels isolated and alone. Until she meets a young woman in the woods and makes her a promise that will change the course of her life forever.
Featuring Lucinda Riley's "engaging and mesmerizing" ( Library Journal , starred review) storytelling and filled with unforgettable and moving characters, The Sun Sister explores how love can cross seemingly impossible boundaries.
Reviews (3)
Publisher's Weekly Review
In this stirring, if baggy, installment to the Seven Sisters series (after The Moon Sister), Riley follows Electra D'Apliese, a supermodel suffering from the burdens of wealth, fame, and addictions. The second-youngest of six sisters adopted by philanthropist Pa Salt, Electra, tall and gorgeous at 26, enjoys a luxurious New York City life complete with lots of alcohol, cocaine, and casual sex. After Pa's death, her dangerous behaviors intensify to the point that her sister Maia suggests a rehab program. Electra is resistant until she finds a posthumous letter from Pa, which provides a clue about her origins, and though Electra has always been reluctant to learn about her blood relations, she finally meets her grandmother, Stella, who traces their story back to Kenya in 1939. Riley alternates between Electra's and Stella's stories, spending lots of time on Stella's life in Kenya and beyond. After Electra checks into rehab and begins to recover from her addictions, her life is changed by her new connection to her past. The plot can sometimes be predictable, but the descriptions of Kenya are evocative ("the air hummed with insects dipping their heads into nectar-rich blooms"). Series fans will find inspiration and delight in Electra's search for deeper family relationships. (May)
Kirkus Review
The sixth installment of Riley's mammoth series about the adopted daughters of an enigmatic shipping magnate. This volume, weighing in at 500-plus pages, concerns Electra, the youngest of the six D'Aplièse sisters--each named for a star in the Pleiades constellation--who were rescued by seafaring entrepreneur "Pa Salt." As always, the prefatory cast of characters notes that a seventh sister, Merope, is "missing." Like her sisters before her, Electra was bequeathed clues by Pa (who died under mysterious circumstances) as to her birth origins. But Electra, a Manhattan supermodel who's addicted to vodka and cocaine, is blasé about her personal quest. When Stella Jackson, a prominent black attorney, claims to be Electra's biological grandmother, Riley begins the extended backstory common to all the books, this one about Electra's ancestor. Stella's reluctance to spill the beans all at once and Electra's own prodigious procrastination slow the narrative just enough to maintain suspense. The tale centers on Cecily Huntley-Morgan, a white New York socialite who, on the eve of World War II, finds herself living in Kenya in a marriage of convenience to Bill Forsythe, who spends most of his time away on cattle drives with Maasai tribesmen. This situation stems from Cecily's broken engagement in New York, which she followed with an unwanted pregnancy courtesy of a rebound rake. Rarely for this series, both storylines hold their own. Electra checks into rehab, vowing to forswear hedonism and use her fame and wealth to help addicted and underprivileged youth. The Kenyan setting, in seeming homage to Out of Africa, is colorfully atmospheric even as Cecily remains stolidly unhedonistic amid the Happy Valley set of hard-partying and dissolute British expats who surround her. The second half of the novel plumbs, with many detours and digressions and much descriptive minutiae, the mystery of how Cecily and Stella are connected and how Electra came to be abandoned. The long-anticipated seventh book may reveal what's still missing from this series, because it certainly isn't detail. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
The D'Apliese sisters were adopted as infants and raised on a luxurious Austrian estate. After the D'Apliese patriarch passes away, each now-grown sister receives a handwritten letter with clues to her personal history. Electra D'Apliese, a famous model with a swiftly worsening substance abuse issue, is wholly uninterested in the details of her biological family. When she receives a letter from a stranger claiming to be her biological grandmother, Electra realizes that she can't understand her past until she confronts the challenges of her globetrotting present. The sixth--and darkest--entry in Riley's Seven Sisters series explores the harsh realities of addiction and recovery and the pressures of chasing fame. A story-within-the-story follows a dear family friend, Cecily, as she adjusts to her unfamiliar Kenyan home after living a sheltered life in New York. Riley's meticulous research and attention to detail once again immerse readers, this time in 1940s Kenya with the complicated story of the ex-pat Happy Valley community, brought to life. Fans of Riley, Kate Atkinson, and the series will adore The Sun Sister.
Chapter 1 1 I don't remember where I was or what I was doing when I heard my father had died." "Okay. Do you want to explore that?" I stared at Theresa, sitting in her leather wingback chair. She reminded me of the sleepy dormouse at Alice in Wonderland's tea party or one of his ratty friends. She blinked a lot behind her little round glasses, and her lips were permanently pursed. She had great legs under the knee-length tweed skirt she was wearing and good hair, too. I decided she could be pretty if she wanted to be, but I knew she wasn't interested in anything but looking intelligent. "Electra? I'm losing you again." "Yeah, sorry, I was miles away." "Were you thinking about how you felt when your father died?" As I couldn't exactly tell her what I had been thinking, I nodded earnestly. "Yeah, I was." "And?" "I really can't remember. Sorry." "You seem angry about his death, Electra. Why were you angry?" "I'm not ... I wasn't. I mean, I honestly can't remember." "You can't remember how you felt at that moment?" "No." "Okay." I watched her scribble something onto her notepad, which probably went along the lines of "refusing to deal with father's death." It was what the last shrink had said to me, and I was so totally dealing with it. As I'd learned over the years, they liked to find a reason for me being a screw-up, and then they'd take hold of it, just like a mouse with a piece of cheese, and nibble away at me until I agreed with them and talked shit just to keep them happy. "So how are you feeling about Mitch?" The phrases that came to mind to describe my ex would probably have Theresa reaching for her cell to warn the cops that there was a crazy woman on the loose, who wanted to blast away the balls of one of the world's most famous rock stars. Instead, I smiled sweetly. "I'm good. I've moved on now." "You were very angry with him the last time you came to see me, Electra." "Yeah, but I'm fine now. Really." "Well, that's good news. And how about the drinking? Under control a little more?" "Yes," I lied again. "Listen, I'm gonna have to run to a meeting." "But we're only halfway through the session, Electra." "I know, it's a shame, but hey, that's life." I stood up and walked toward the door. "Maybe I can fit you in again later this week? Speak to Marcia on your way out." "I will, thanks." I was already closing the door behind me. I walked straight past Marcia, the receptionist, and headed for the elevator. It came almost immediately, and as I was whooshed downward, I closed my eyes--I hated any confined spaces--and laid my hot forehead against the cool marble interior. Jeez , I thought, what is it with me? I'm so messed up that I can't even tell my therapist the truth! You're too ashamed to tell anyone the truth ... and how could she understand even if you did? I argued back to myself. She probably lives in a neat brownstone with her lawyer husband, has two kids and a refrigerator covered in cute magnets showing off their artwork. Oh , I added to myself as I climbed into the back of my limo, and one of those vomit-inducing photos of Mom and Dad with the kids, all wearing matching denim shirts, that they've blown up huge and hung behind their couch. "Where to, ma'am?" the driver asked me over the intercom. "Home," I barked before grabbing a bottle of water from the minifridge, shutting it fast before I was tempted to explore the alcoholic options. I had the mother of all headaches, which no amount of painkillers had eased, and it was past five in the evening. It had been a great party the night before, though, from what I could remember, anyway. Maurice, my new best designer friend, had been in town and had dropped by for a few drinks with some of his New York playmates, who had then called others ... I couldn't remember going to bed and had been surprised to find a stranger in it with me when I'd woken up this morning. He was a beautiful stranger, at least, and after we'd gotten to know each other physically again, I'd asked him his name. Fernando had been a delivery driver for Walmart in Philly up until a few months back, when one of the fashion buyers had noticed him and told him to call a friend at a New York modeling agency. He said he'd be happy to walk me down a red carpet sometime soon--I'd learned the hard way that a shot of me on his arm would send Mr. Walmart's career skyrocketing--so I'd gotten rid of him as soon as I could. So what if you had told Mrs. Dormouse the truth, Electra? So what if you'd admitted that last night you were so off your face with liquor and coke that you could have slept with Santa and you wouldn't have known about it? That the reason you couldn't even begin to think about your father wasn't because of his death but because you knew how ashamed he'd be of you ... how ashamed he'd been of you? At least when Pa Salt had been alive, I'd known he couldn't see what I was doing, but now he was dead, he'd somehow become omnipresent; he could have been in the bedroom with me last night or even here in the limo right now ... I cracked and reached for a minivodka, then poured it down my throat, trying to forget the look of disappointment on Pa's face the last time I'd seen him before he'd died. He'd come to New York to visit me, saying he had something to tell me. I'd avoided him until the last possible evening, when I had reluctantly agreed to have dinner with him. I'd arrived at Asiate, a restaurant just across Central Park, already tanked on vodka and uppers. I'd sat numbly opposite him throughout the meal, excusing myself to go to the ladies' room to do a few bumps of coke whenever he tried to start conversations I didn't want to pursue. Once dessert had arrived, Pa had crossed his arms and regarded me calmly. "I'm extremely worried for you, Electra. You seem to be completely absent." "Well, you don't understand the kind of pressure I'm under," I'd snapped at him. "What it takes to be me!" To my shame, I had only vague memories of what had happened next or what he'd said, but I knew I'd stood up and walked out on him. So now I'd never even know what it was he'd wanted to tell me. "Why do you give a shit, Electra?" I asked myself as I wiped my mouth and stuck the empty bottle in a pocket--my driver was new, and all I needed was a story in a newspaper saying I'd drunk the minibar dry. "He's not even your real father, anyway." Besides, there was nothing I could do about it now. Pa was gone--like everyone else I'd loved in my life--and I had to get on with it. I didn't need him, I didn't need anybody ... "We're here, ma'am," said the driver through the intercom. "Thanks. I'll jump out," I added, then did so, closing the limo door behind me. It was best to make my arrival at any place as inconspicuous as possible; other celebrities could wear disguises and get away with going to a local diner, but I was over six feet tall and pretty hard to miss in a crowd, even if I hadn't been famous. "Hi there, Electra!" "Tommy," I said, managing a smile as I walked beneath the canopy toward the entrance to my apartment building, "how are you today?" "All the better for seeing you, ma'am. Did you have a good day?" "Yeah, great, thank you." I nodded as I looked down--and I mean down --at my number one fan. "See you tomorrow, Tommy." "You sure will, Electra. Not going out tonight?" "No, it's a quiet one in. Bye, now," I said as I gave him a wave and walked inside. At least he loves me , I mused as I collected my mail from the concierge and headed for the elevator. As the porter rode up with me simply because it was his job (I considered offering him my keys and mail to hold, as that was all I was carrying), I thought about Tommy. He stood sentinel outside the building most days and had done so for the past few months. At first it had freaked me out and I'd asked the concierge to get rid of him. Tommy had stood his ground--literally--and said that he had every right to stand on the sidewalk, that he wasn't bothering anyone, and that all he wanted to do was to protect me. The concierge had encouraged me to call the cops and have him charged with stalking, but one morning I'd asked him his full name, then gone to do a bit of internet stalking myself. I'd discovered on Facebook that he was an army vet who'd won medals for bravery out in Afghanistan and that he had a wife and daughter in Queens. Now, rather than making me feel threatened, Tommy made me feel safe. Besides that, he was always respectful and polite, so I'd told the concierge to back off. The porter stepped out of the elevator and let me pass. Then we did a kind of dance in which I needed to step back so that he could go ahead and lead the way to my penthouse apartment to open the door for me with his own master key. "There we go, Miss D'Aplièse. Have a nice day, now." He nodded at me, and I saw zero warmth in his eyes. I knew that the staff here wished that I would disappear in a puff of smoke up a nonexistent chimney. Most of the other residents had been here since they were fetuses in their mothers' stomachs, back when a woman of color, like me, would have been "privileged" to be their maid. They were all owner-occupiers, whereas I was a peasant: a tenant, albeit a rich one, allowed in on a lease because the old lady who'd lived here had died and her son had renovated the place, then tried to sell it at an exorbitant price. Due to something called the subprime crisis, he'd apparently failed to do so. Instead, he'd been reduced to selling the lease to the highest bidder--me. The price was crazy, but then so was the apartment, stuffed with modern artwork and every kind of electronic gadget you could imagine (I didn't know how to work most of them), and the view from the terrace over Central Park was stunning. If I needed a reminder of my success, this apartment was it. But what it reminds me of more than anything , I thought as I sank down into the couch that could provide a comfortable bed for at least two full-grown guys, is how lonely I am. Its size made even me feel small and delicate--and up here, right at the top of the building, very, very isolated. My cell phone piped up from somewhere in the apartment, playing the song that had made Mitch a worldwide superstar; I'd tried to change the ringtone, but it hadn't worked. If CeCe is dyslexic with words, then I sure am dyslexic with electronics , I thought as I went into the bedroom to grab it. I was relieved to see that the maid had changed the sheets on the enormous bed and everything was hotel-room perfect again. I liked the new maid my PA had found me; she'd signed a nondisclosure agreement like all the others to stop her blabbing to the media about any of my nastier habits. Even so, I shuddered to think what she--was it Lisbet?--had thought when she'd walked into my apartment this morning. I sat on the bed and listened to my voice mails. Five were from my agent asking me to call her back urgently about tomorrow's shoot for Vanity Fair , and the last message was from Amy, my new PA. She'd been with me for only three months, but I liked her. "Hi, Electra, it's Amy. I ... well, I just wanted to say that I've really enjoyed working for you, but I don't think it's gonna work out long term. I've handed my resignation letter in today to your agent, and I wish you luck in the future, and ..." " SHIT?!? " I screamed as I pressed "delete" and threw the cell across the room. "What the hell did I do to her?" I asked the ceiling, wondering why I felt so upset that a two-bit nobody, who had gone down on bended knee and begged me to give her a chance, had walked out on me three months later. "?'It's been my dream to be in the fashion business since I was a little kid. Please, Miss D'Aplièse, I'll work for you night and day, your life will be mine, and I swear I'll never let you down.'?" I mimicked Amy's whiny Brooklyn accent as I dialed my agent. There were only three things I couldn't live without: vodka, cocaine, and a PA. "Hi, Susie, I just heard Amy's resigned." "Yes, it's not great. She was shaping up well." Susie's British accent sounded crisp and businesslike. "Yeah, I thought she was, too. Do you know why she's gone?" There was a pause on the line before she replied. "No. Anyway, I'll get Rebekah on the case, and I'm sure we'll have you a new one by the end of the week. Did you get my messages?" "Yup, I did." "Well, don't be late tomorrow. They want to shoot as the sun is coming up. A car will pick you up at four a.m., okay?" "Sure." "I heard you had quite a party last night." "It was fun, yeah." "Well, no partying tonight, Electra. You need to be fresh for tomorrow. It's the cover shot." "Don't worry, I'll be in bed by nine like a good little girl." "Okay. Sorry, I've got Lagerfeld on the other line. Rebekah will be in touch with a list of suitable PAs. Ciao." "Ciao," I mimicked into the cell as the line went dead. Susie was one of the only people on the planet who would dare hang up on me. She was the most powerful modeling agent in New York and ran all the big names in the industry. She'd spotted me when I was sixteen. At the time, I'd been working in Paris as a waitress, having been expelled from my third school in about as many years. I'd told Pa that it was pointless his trying to find me another school because I'd only end up getting expelled from there, too. To my surprise, he hadn't made a fuss. I remembered how astonished I'd been that he hadn't been angrier at yet another of my failures. Just kind of disappointed, I suppose, which had taken the wind out of my sails. "I thought I'd go traveling or something," I'd suggested to him. "Learn through life experience." "I agree that most of what you need to know to be a success in life doesn't necessarily come through the academic process," he'd said, "but because you're so bright, I'd hoped you'd at least get some qualifications. You're a little young to be off by yourself. It's a big wide world out there, Electra." "I can take care of myself, Pa," I'd said firmly. "I'm sure you can, but what will you do to fund your travels?" "I'll get a job, of course," I'd said with a shrug. "I thought I'd head for Paris first." Pa had nodded. "Excellent choice. It's an incredible city." As I'd watched him across his big desk in the study, I'd thought he'd looked almost dreamy and sad. Yup, definitely sad. "Well, now," he'd continued, "why don't we compromise? You want to leave school, which I understand, but I'm concerned about my youngest daughter heading off into the world at such a tender age. Marina has some contacts in Paris. I'm sure she could help you sort out a safe place to stay. Take the summer there; then we'll regroup and decide where you go next." "Okay, sounds like a plan," I'd agreed, still amazed that he hadn't fought harder for me to finish my education. As I'd stood up to leave, I'd decided that he'd either washed his hands of me or was giving me just enough rope to hang myself with. Anyway, Ma had called some contacts, and I'd ended up in a sweet little studio overlooking the rooftops of Montmartre. It had been miniscule, and I'd had to share the bathroom with a load of foreign exchange kids who were in town to improve their French, but it had been mine . I remembered that first delicious taste of independence as I'd stood in my tiny room the night I arrived and realized there was no one to tell me what to do. There was also no one to cook for me, so I'd taken myself off to a café just along the street, sat down at a table outside, and lit up a cigarette as I studied the menu. I'd ordered French onion soup and a glass of wine, and the waiter hadn't even batted an eyelid at me smoking or ordering alcohol. Three glasses of wine later, I'd had the confidence to go up to the manager and ask him if he had any vacancies for a waitress. Twenty minutes after that, I'd walked the few hundred yards back to my studio with a job. One of my proudest moments had been the call to Pa on the pay phone along the hall the next morning. To give him credit, he'd sounded just as thrilled as when my sister Maia had won a place at the Sorbonne. Four weeks later, I'd served Susie, now my modeling agent, a croque monsieur, and the rest was history ... Why am I looking back all the time? I asked myself as I retrieved my cell to listen to the rest of my messages. And why do I keep thinking about Pa? "Mitch ... Pa ..." I muttered as I waited for the voice mail to spill its beans. "They're gone, Electra, along with Amy as of today, and you just have to move on." "My dearest Electra! How are you? I am back in New York again ... What are you doing tonight? Fancy sharing a bottle of Cristal and some chow mein dans ton lit avec moi ? I'm yearning for you. Give me a call back as soon as you can." Despite my low mood, I couldn't help but smile. Zed Eszu was an enigma in my life. He was hugely wealthy, well connected, and--despite his lack of height and the fact that he wasn't my usual type at all--incredible in bed; we'd been hooking up regularly for three years. It had all stopped when I had gotten serious with Mitch, but I'd reinstated him a few weeks ago, and there was no doubt he'd given my ego the boost it had needed. Were we in love? It was a total no, for me anyway, but we ran with the same crowd in New York and, best of all, when we were alone together we spoke in French. Like Mitch, he wasn't impressed by who I was, which was rare these days and somehow comforting. I stared at the phone, debating whether to ignore Zed and follow Susie's instructions for an early night or whether to call him and enjoy some company. It was a no-brainer, so I called Zed and told him to come on over. While I was waiting for him, I took a shower, then dressed in my favorite silk kimono, which had been designed especially for me by an up-and-coming Japanese atelier. I then drank what felt like a gallon of water to counteract any drinking or bad stuff I might do when he arrived. The concierge phone beeped to announce Zed's presence, and I told the concierge to send him right up. He arrived at my door with a giant bouquet of my favorite white roses and the promised bottle of Cristal champagne. " Bonsoir, ma belle Electra ," he said in his strange clipped French as he unloaded the flowers and champagne and kissed me on both cheeks. " Comment tu vas?? " "I'm good," I answered as I eyed the champagne greedily. "Shall I open it?" "I think that is my job. Can I take my jacket off first?" "Of course." "But before that," he said, dipping into his jacket pocket and handing me a velvet box, "I saw this and thought of you." "Thanks," I said, sitting down on the couch and tucking my irritatingly long legs underneath me as I stared at the box in my hands like an excited child. Zed often bought me presents; ironically, given his vast wealth, they were rarely flashy but always something thoughtful and interesting. I lifted the lid and saw a ring nestling inside. The stone was oval-shaped and of a soft buttery yellow hue. "It is amber," he said as he watched me studying the way it caught the light of the chandelier above us. "Try it on." "Which finger should I put it on?" I teased as I looked up at him. "Whichever you prefer, ma chère , but if I was going to make you my wife, I think I might do a little better than that. I am sure that you know your Greek namesake has an association with amber." "Really? No, I don't." I watched him as he popped the cork on the champagne. "Like what?" "Well, the Greek word for 'amber' was electron , and legend has it that the sun's rays were trapped within the stone. A Greek philosopher noticed that if two pieces were rubbed together, they created friction, which created an energy ... Your name couldn't suit you better." He smiled as he placed a glass of champagne in front of me. "Are you saying I create friction?" I smiled back. "The question is, did I grow into my name, or did it grow into me? Santé. " " Santé. " We clinked our glasses, and he sat down next to me. "Um ..." "You are thinking to yourself, did I bring another gift?" "Yup." "Then look underneath the lining of the box." I did so, and sure enough, tucked underneath the slim slice of velvet that had held the ring was a small plastic packet. "Thanks, Zed," I said as I pulled the packet open, then dipped a finger into its contents like a child with a honey pot and rubbed some on my gums. "Good, eh?" he asked as I tipped a little out onto the table, detached the short straw from the packet, and took up a noseful. "Mmm, very," I agreed. "Want some?" "You know I don't. So how have you been?" "Oh ... okay." "You do not sound sure, Electra, and you look tired." "It's been busy," I said as I took a large gulp of my champagne. "I was on a shoot in Fiji last week, and I'm flying to Paris next week." "Maybe you need to slow down a little. Take a break." "Says the guy who told me he spends more nights sleeping on his private jet than he does in his bed," I teased him. "Then maybe we should both slow down. Can I tempt you to a week on my yacht? It's moored in Saint Lucia for the next couple of months before I have it sailed to the Med for the summer." I sighed. "I wish. I have a packed schedule until June." "June, then. We can sail around the Greek islands." "Maybe." I shrugged, not taking him seriously. He often discussed plans when we were together that never came to anything, and more to the point, nor would I want them to. Zed was just great for a night's company and some physical action, but any more than that and he'd begin to irritate me with his fastidiousness and unbelievable arrogance. The concierge phone beeped again, and Zed stood up to answer it. "Send it up immediately, thank you." He poured us both some more champagne. "We are having Chinese, and I promise you, it will be the best chow mein you have ever tasted." He smiled. "So how are your sisters?" "I don't know. I've been too busy lately to call them. Ally did have a baby, though--a little boy. She's named him Bear, which is really cute. Come to think of it, I'm meant to be seeing them all in June back at Atlantis; we're taking Pa's boat out to the Greek islands to lay a wreath where Ally thinks his coffin was dropped into the sea. Your dad was found on a beach close by, wasn't he?" "Yes, but like you, I do not want to think of my father's death because it upsets me," Zed replied sharply. "I only think to the future." "I know, but it is a coincidence--" The buzzer rang, and Zed went to answer the door. "Now, Electra," he said as he carried two boxes through to the kitchen. "Come and help me with these." Excerpted from The Sun Sister: A Novel by Lucinda Riley All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.


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Attention United Nations: A Refund is due
Lord Monckton on what happened when he took the floor at COP18
Hey folks,
the way to make an impact is to sue. For 18 years the UN has been holding conferences on a problem which does not exist. In the manner these conferences were held constitutes fraud upon the people of the world.
In the process of perpetrating this fraud, the UN Spent roughly about 200 billion dollars. The US has paid the lions share.
I say we launch a suit to recover the money paid by US taxpayers to fund this fraud! Also, because there has been no evidence of global warming, those who perpetrated this fraud should be criminally charged for fraud.


text:
Parent Shaming in the Chicago 'Burbs. [VIDEO]
Parent Shaming in the Chicago 'Burbs. [VIDEO]
Corey Widen thought she had the good life in Wilmette, Illinois, a tony suburb of Chicago. And she probably still thinks so, even though she went through parent shaming hell recently, thanks to a nosy neighbor.
Widen, a 48-year-old home schooling mom, thought she would teach her 8-year-old daughter a little pet responsibility. So she sent Dorothy out with their Maltese puppy, Marshmallow, for a walk around the block.
Enter the neighborhood Gladys Kravitz, who called local authorities. Lo and behold, when Corey Widen opened her door expecting to find Dorothy's playdate, she saw police standing there instead.
The police, to their credit, didn't press charges. However, the call also went to the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services, who set off an investigation. They wanted to see if Corey Widen was neglecting her children.
Appearing on ABC's Good Morning America, Widen explained how this parent shaming got way out of hand:
"The initial call was for an unattended 5-year-old, and once they knew I didn't even have a 5-year-old, it should have stopped there. I don't think it should have made it past the hotline that a little girl walking her dog needs to be investigated."
Exactly. Widen went on to tell viewers why she allowed Dorothy to walk the puppy by herself:
"This was something we did to start giving her more independence because I didn't feel she had enough, so I wanted to make that happen."
And just how dangerous is Wilmette, Illinois, where the Widen family lives?
The violent crime rate in Wilmette is lower than the national average by 90%. Moreover, in 2016, there were no kidnappings or murders. None. And 2018 projections are even lower than 2016.
Corey Widen's story is not unique, however. Chicago author Kim Brooks, visiting her parents in Virginia, left her 4-year-old in her car briefly on a cool day, and a stranger called police to report her. Brooks wrote about her experience in a new book, Small Animals: Parenthood in the Age of Fear.
It's all part of the trend known as "parent shaming," and it's even worse thanks to social media.
Some parents, thankfully, are fighting back. The state of Utah recently passed a "free range parenting" law, which gives parents the freedom to be, well, parents to their own kids.
Imagine that! Kids can do the same things I did when I was growing up — like ride my bike downtown to the local library. Or walk home from school with my brother. Both places were at least a mile from our home. We also got to play outside in the summer, but only until, as my mother admonished, "the streetlight comes on."
Oh, glorious childhood freedom!
I think abduction fear mania started in the 1980's, when I was a young wife and mother. We heard the story of how little Etan Patz vanished from his New York City neighborhood in 1979. There was the story of how paperboy Johnny Gosch disappeared in Des Moines, IA, in 1982. And how could anyone forget the horror that befell 6-year-old Adam Walsh, who was abducted from a Florida Sears store in 1981. Authorities found only his severed head in a canal.
The fear even touched our family.
We were living in Wichita, KS, in the early 1990's. Our eight-year-old daughter was playing in the front yard with a younger girl when a man approached in a car and told the girls to get in.
Our daughter told her friend to run, and they both ran home. I called the police, who immediately responded. We were the first of several to report this man, but eventually the police caught up with him. He was never able to harm a Wichita child.
These kind of occurrences terrified every sentient parent in America, even though statistically these events were — and still are — very rare.
Two decades later, smart phones and social media entered everyone's life, and parent shaming began. It wasn't enough to mind your own kids, now you were given license to police everyone else's, too.
I don't envy today's parents. They know they should limit their kids' time with video games and electronic devices. And they know that their kids really should be playing outside with friends. But then they have to worry about the parent shaming ninnies who call police and child protective services for "neglecting" their children.
We didn't have high tech toys when I was little, and our lives weren't quite as opulent. But our parents never had to worry about parent shaming. And I think in many ways we had much richer childhoods during that simpler time, too.
how could anyone forget the horror that befell 6-year-old Adam Walsh
Yes, and I think his father is to blame for a lot of the "Stranger Danger" fear that erupted across America. He turned his son's disappearance and murder into a weekly TV show*. Every single week, often in the prime time hour, there he was, telling us about all the murderers and kidnappers on the loose. Of course, I could easily come up with an hour of crime cases each week, across this huge land of ours. (I'm talking about outside DC – if you start there, you won't even get out of the capital building before your hour's up!)
But, people have trouble with the concept of context, and many struggle with statistics. In a land of (now) 300 million, if you had a crime rate of .0.01%**, that's 30,000 criminals! But that is best represented as "you need to get 100,000 people together to find even one criminal. And that's before you begin introducing clustering effects (bad neighborhoods vs good neighborhoods).
So, today's parents were raised in fear. And they have now raised their children in that fear.
I don't so much mind people watching out for the neighbor kids. That's a GOOD thing. The problem is the ratting them out to the authorities. If you want to know about a kid wandering about your neighborhood… go out and talk to them. Heck, you can tell a lot just by how they respond to that simple act. (I still keep an eye on the kids around my house. I have an inkling which house each belongs to, and would gladly go talk to a parent if I thought their kid was a problem or in danger. I'll call 911 if there's a true emergency.)
(* Walsh did what he did out of a sense of doing a better job nabbing criminals, and I don't really fault him for that. And his show did some good, too, publicizing wanted criminals so they could be caught. But a constant barrage of it from all over the country, and delivered to your living room, as if it was all local news helped create a false sense of the level of criminality.)
(** Real violent crime rate is about 0.3%, and property crimes about 2.5% – with 2/3 of that being larceny-theft – according to 2016 stats from the FBI. So multiply my numbers appropriately. Then account for clustering. You'd still have to search to find a violent criminal in your neighborhood, I'm betting.)
To put a violent crime rate of 0.3% in some perspective….
If you filled the Dallas Cowboy's AT&T Stadium to standing-room capacity (105,000) with folks from every walk of life, there would (on average, mind you!) be 315 violent crimes in a year. That's less than 1 per day. (I refuse to speculate on how many of those would be attributable to the athletes and coaches…..)
(There'd be about 5 petty thefts a day – "Hey! That's my beer!" – and a couple of other property crimes each day. On average.)
Okay, cue all the comments on how we're smothering our children by not letting them walk alone around a block in a place like Chicago, "tony" neighborhood or not. An eight-year-old girl has NO BUSINESS walking alone around a block ANYWHERE these days. Whether we want to accept it or not, it's not safe. Not anymore. Christ, a grown young woman in small town Iowa wasn't safe going jogging. My small town in Washington state has had some incidents in the last ten years that were horrifying. One of my daughter's friends barely escaped being taken by some strange man while she was waiting for her school bus at the end of her own driveway. She had to run to a neighbor's house and the creep got away. Another two children were nearly forced into a car in the middle of the afternoon in a quiet neighborhood. Other small towns around us have had incidents, too. They finally found the body last September of the eleven-year-old who was allowed to walk less than a mile home from her friend's house in a small town on the coast. Nobody ever saw her alive again. Like it or not, IT'S NOT SAFE.
Blackgriffin, I have a hard time reconciling your claim that things have become so dangerous that a kid can't walk around the block anywhere, with generally falling rates of violent crime.
"IT'S NOT SAFE!" Of course *nothing* is safe; but blowing risks way out of proportion and hunkering in a bunker teaches helplessness. If we learn to be helpless, we learn to be serfs, not free people.
Your inability to accept it doesn't make it untrue. It just means that you, along with many others, are unable to grapple effectively with the changes in our society since many of us were children. It's not nice to think about and is upsetting, but those are not valid reasons to simply decide not to see what's obvious.
Gee, I thought maybe you would provide some sort of evidence for your extreme claim, rather than simply repeat it.
Your reading comprehension *and* your math are obviously sub-par, since I gave you actual numbers on top of the reasoning in what I wrote. No, it is NOT any more dangerous today.
Yes, bad things happen. The problem is you can't stop the bad things. If you believe you can, then you're living in a progressive alternate universe. The things you describe are anecdotes and the plural of "anecdote" is NOT "data". The fact you appear* to have had a tiny surge in child predation issues locally doesn't have any meaning for the statistical risk of anyone else in the universe.
(* Yes, "appear", since you give absolutely no context (timeframe, geographic, previous crime rate) or data for your anecdotes. So, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt by even using that word.)
Like it or not, IT'S NOT SAFE.
No kidding, Sherlock! It's something many of us call LIFE. You don't get out of it alive.
Over-protect your child if you must, but 1) PLEASE do not infect all of your neighbors and friends with that fear, and 2) understand you're helping to raise a person unaware of reality, and that's going to come back and bite them in the end.
You know, you can disagree with someone without being an ass about it. Try it sometime.
Sorry, but you sound like you're offended to be told the truth.
So, I won't apologize for any of that.
And I wasn't an ass at all. (Unless you mean that bit about reading and math. In which case…. nah, still just telling the truth, not being an ass.)
The "changes in our society since many of us were children" aren't what you think they are. It is NOT less safe.
And I think this statement is hilariously un-self-aware:
those are not valid reasons to simply decide not to see what's obvious
Since I gave you *actual numbers* for perspective, and you responded with anecdotes.
Walking the dog around the block… I can't fathom how helpless *adults* have become. It's the adults, not the children, who are helpless.
As a first grader I used to walk unaccompanied 1/2 mile to-and-from school in a town of 60,000. Big deal. All my classmates did as well. In junior high it was a full mile, on foot or bike, and since we had split shifts it was in the dark on winter mornings.
I know a guy from a much smaller town – every Friday in summer his folks would drive him, his brothers & sisters, to the nearby mountains, let them out with a bunch of camping gear, and drive off, returning Sunday to pick them up.
When I was in high school my parents dropped me off with my younger brothers at a cabin w wood stove for heat and no running water bc we wanted to go earlier than they could join us; we had to get cabin heated, cook, etc. And we even had my .243 with us (horrors)!
This sort of thing doesn't faze normal children, but that it sounds surprising to average adults today shows how deeply progressive idiocy has infiltrated our culture.
This sort of thing doesn't faze normal children
Sadly, it does faze a lot of children today. At least, once they've gotten into an indoctrination center, or their parents are the sort of omnipresent worry-warts that won't let them take risks.
But, no, a child has very little fear naturally – until reality or teaching puts it in their heads. We teach so they don't have to learn from reality.
(Note, though, we teach so they don't have to learn from reality. We don't bubble-wrap them so they never encounter reality.)
"the plural of "anecdote" is NOT "data"… I am SOOO stealing that GWB!


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- @wardy
What's everybody watching these days?
I started watching a tv series called "Breaking Bad" about a month ago on the internet up to season 3 now and my god it's amazing.
(It's about a chemistry teacher who find's out he has cancer and hasn't got long to live so he start's making chrystal meth and moves up the drug trade.)
- @newdragon
With a 19 mth old son and another baby due in October I find that I have less and less time to watch TV. I do try to watch Master Chef(Australian Reality show).
- @anonymous
Breaking Bad is great. This coming season is the final one unfortunately. 🙁
Right now I'm watching The Wire. I previously watched S01-03, but I'm watching them again so I know wtf is going on in S04-05.
- @amok
Lately been watching Breaking Bad as well. Also Boardwalk Empire, Dexter and Sons of Anarchy.
All of them are real good.
- @sherav
Just finished watching OZ S1-6.
As prison drama's go it is one of the best I have seen – a lot of actors from The Wire.
Well worth watching.
- @graycatlove
I was obsessed with Rupaul's Drag Race Season 4. My girl won, and now Drag U is on, and I'm disappointed. I should mention, in my job, when I'm on the floor nights, I watch a lot of TV. I also love Adventure Time.
- @sam-i-am
12:00 AM E.S.T. Clint Eastwood in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly just starting.
Tattoos are for the living. Tombstones are for the dead. Get a tattoo for yourself!
- @maniacthw
I just grabbed the entire run of Six Feet Under. I have seen most of them, but out of order and it's been a few years. I want to see how it all ties together.
Currently playing Battlefield 3.
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A massive spruce beetle outbreak that's been decimating coniferous forests in the northern Colorado mountains has been caused mainly by drought, according to a new study.
Spruce beetles, like their close relatives, mountain pine beetles, are attacking large areas of coniferous forests across the West. While the mountain pine beetle outbreak in the Southern Rocky Mountains is the best known and appears to be the worst in the historical record, the lesser known spruce beetle infestation has the potential to be equally or even more devastating in Colorado, said Sarah Hart, a CU-Boulder doctoral student and lead author on the new study.
The University of Colorado study links the outbreak to a natural oscillation, but previous studies have also linked spruce beetle outbreaks to anthropogenic climate change. "When global warming rears its head, these drying effects accumulate over time, making the drought more severe and more extreme," said Kevin Trenberth, a climate scientist at the National Center for Atmospheric Research.
Tiny Beetles Are Also Killing Off Huge Swaths of Spruce Forests Because of Drought


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|The Forward Look Network
| FCA files
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|Forward Look Technical Discussions -> Fender/VIN Tag and Broadcast Sheet Decoding
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|arizona mopar gold
Extreme Veteran
Posts: 492
Location: Whetstone, Arizona
|Do we have anyone with access to the FCA files?
One on my D500's is missing the VIN and Data tag and no papers for it either..
.I was hoping it could be found via the KD-500 engine numbering
I know it's a long shot but thought i'd ask anyways.
Posts: 4245
|i thought it was microfiche? Give me the files, ill make a searchable website
I heard the one Regal Lancer guy(no title) saying he would go and hunt through them to find the regal lancer vins by looking through microfiche based on engine number... not sure if he had a clue what he was saying.
Expert 5K+
Posts: 6292
Location: Lower Mainland BC
It is my understanding that all FCA Historical has is microfiche copies (and poor ones at that) of the "IBM" cards, somehow retrievable via the VIN number and the VIN number only. Nothing was stored by engine number. If you had some idea of the VIN range that a certain engine might be in, then somebody *theoretically* paw through the microfiches of that VIN range, searching manually (nothing was digitized) for the engine number and then lucking out and getting the VIN. However, that might not stand up to close scrutiny by DMV bureaucrats if push came came to shove because there is no guarantee that an engine in a chassis was the engine that the chassis left the factory with.
Anyway, that is sort of one reason why I am trying to keep track of 56 D500 engine numbers with build dates and VINs wherever possible.
Edited by 56D500boy 2019-12-15 12:26 PM
D500EnginesByDate_Dec15_2019.jpg (147KB - 56 downloads)
|arizona mopar gold
Extreme Veteran
Posts: 492
Location: Whetstone, Arizona
|The engine number I have ( Complete car) is the lowest of my 5, D500 cars being KD-500-3462
Edited by arizona mopar gold 2019-12-15 2:58 PM
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Expert 5K+
Posts: 6292
Location: Lower Mainland BC
arizona mopar gold - 2019-12-15 11:56 AM
The engine number I have ( Complete car) is the lowest of my 5, D500 cars being KD-500-3462
John: You might want to contact Greg L. (LD3 Greg) to either ask if he can help with the VIN range and/or to add your engine numbers to his data base:
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text: i've setup e-mail for one of my domains, and can login to Workspace and send an e-mail to another address, but i am not receiving any replys. i can e-mail from my domain to my gmail address, but not from my gmail address to my domain. There is no bounce back message either.


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Taxes : $2,019.00


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This story follows Uncle Remus Initiates the Little Boy as you'll see from the reference to the calamus root at the beginning and at the end of the story.
BRER RABBIT and the TAR-BABY
One day after Brer Rabbit fool him with that calamus root, Brer Fox went to work and got him some tar, and mix it with some turpentine, and fix up a contraption what he call a Tar-Baby, and he took this here Tar-Baby and he sat her in the big road, and then he lay off in the bushes for to see what the news was going to be.
(image source; colorized)
Brer Rabbit come prancing along till he spy the Tar-Baby, and then he fetch up on his behind legs like he was astonished.
The Tar Baby, she sat there, she did, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
"Mornin'!" says Brer Rabbit, says he — "Nice weather this mornin'," says he.
Tar-Baby ain't saying' nothing, and Brer Fox he lay low.
"How does yo' sym'toms seem to segashuate?" says Brer Rabbit, says he.
Brer Fox, he wink his eye slow, and lay low, and the Tar-Baby, she ain't saying nothing.
"How you come on, then? Is you deaf?" says Brer Rabbit, says he. "'Cause if you is, I can holler louder," says he.
Tar-Baby stay still, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
"You is stuck up, that's what you is," says Brer Rabbit, says he, "an' I'm goin' to cure you, that's what I'm a goin' to do," says he.
Brer Fox, he sort of chuckle in his stomach, he did, but Tar-Baby ain't saying nothing.
"I'm goin' to learn you how to talk to 'spectable folks if it's the las' act," says Brer Rabbit, says he. "If you don't take off that hat an' tell me howdy, I'm goin' to bus' you wide open," says he.
Tar-Baby stay still, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
Brer Rabbit keep on asking him, and the Tar-Baby, she keep on saying nothing, till presently Brer Rabbit draw back with his fist, he did, and blip he took her side of the head. Right there's where he broke his molasses jug. His fist stuck, and he can't pull loose. The tar hold him. But Tar-Baby, she stay still, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
"If you don't let me loose, I'll knock you again," says Brer Rabbit, says he, and with that he fetch her a wipe with the other hand, and that stuck. Tar-Baby, she ain't saying nothing, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
"Turn me loose, 'fore I kick the nat'ral stuffin' out of you," says Brer Rabbit, says he, but the Tar-Baby, she ain't saying nothing. She just hold on, and then Brer Rabbit lose the use of his feet in the same way. Brer Fox, he lay low.
Den Brer Rabbit squall out that if the Tar-Baby don't turn him loose he butt her cranksided. And then he butted, and his head got stuck. Then Brer Fox, he sauntered forth, looking just as innocent as one of mammy's mocking-birds.
(image source; colorized)
"Howdy, Brer Rabbit," says Brer Fox, says he. "You look sort of stuck up this mornin'," says he, and then he rolled on the ground, an' laughed and laughed till he couldn't laugh no more.
"I 'spect you'll take dinner with me this time, Brer Rabbit. I done laid in some calamus root, an' I ain't goin' to take no 'scuse," says Brer Fox, says he.


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La vie en Rose, that famous french expression when everything goes well, according to plan and life is just breezy - well that is exactly how your next trip to London or future big event should be....Meet Rosa Mello Rego, a special connect ambassador who is about to - simply - make your life easier. Portuguese buoyant and charmer, Rosa has been living in London for over a decade now and her experience working for some of the prestigious art galleries in town allowed her to gain access to otherwise impossible to get in venues (let alone host an event there) kind-of-places. As dynamic and distinctive as the city she now calls her own, Rosa has become quite the cultural little black book disguised on her blond locks and pretty smile; owning the trust of not only many visitors that are looking for a unique time in London but for a great part of us Londoners who so wrongly think we have seen it all.....So thanks for proving us wrong Rosa.
CLIP-IT: Simply Rosa next time fun, doing something different or London comes to your mind.


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CDC issues final flu report: 166 children died during 2019-'20 season
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Organ failure is a global public health issue, and organ transplantation is a lifesaving treatment option. The average waiting time for a transplant from a deceased donor is over three years in many countries. Organ donation can transform the lives of many people.
Organ donation is giving an organ to someone else who needs a transplant. Organs can be procured from the deceased as well as living donors. A deceased donor can save up to eight lives through organ donation.
Organs and tissues that can be donated:
- Kidneys
- Cornea
- Heart
- Lungs
- Liver
- Pancreas
- Heart Valves
- Bone
- Bone Marrow
- Skin
- Intestine
- Ligament
Deceased Donors are individuals whose organs and/or tissues are donated at the time of their death. Organs are procured only after the donor's brain death is confirmed. Brain death is a legal definition of death; it is the complete stopping of all brain functions and cannot be reversed. Brain death occurs due to extreme and serious trauma or injury to the brain, the body's blood supply to the brain is blocked, and the brain dies.
Living donation means surgically remove an organ or portion of an organ from a living person and place it in another person whose organ is no longer functioning properly. Living donation is possible in cases of kidney, liver or bone marrow transplant.
Direct donation is the most common type of living-donor organ donation. In this type of living-donor organ donation, the donor directs the organ to a specific recipient for transplant. The recipient may be a relative or a friend in most cases.
Non-direct donation: The match is based on medical need and blood type compatibility. Paired-organ donation and donation chain allow more people a chance to get organs where direct donor transplant is impossible.
Paired donation/exchange involves two living donors and two recipients. If the recipient from one pair is compatible with the donor from the other pair and vice versa– the transplant center may arrange for two simultaneous transplants to take place. This allows two transplant candidates to receive organs and two donors to give organs while the original recipient/donor pairs were unable to do so with each other.
Donation chain involves several pairs of incompatible living donors and recipients may be linked with a non- directed living donor to form a donation chain in order to receive compatible organs.
Legal and ethical implications
Informed consent is needed from the donor or from a family member of deceased donor for organ donation.
Donor card: signing the 'Donor Card' means a person has agreed to donate organs after death.
Organ trafficking is the trade of human organs, tissues, or other body products, usually for transplantation; is an illegal act.
Organ transplant legislation dictates fair, equitable and non-discriminatory allocation of organs to suitable recipients
Myths and facts about donation
I am not in good health, so I can't be a donor.
Anyone, regardless of age or medical history, can sign up to be a donor. The transplant team will determine at an individual's time of death whether the donation is possible.
Organ donation is not supported by my religion
All religions consider a donation as the final act of love and generosity toward others.
If I agree to donate my organs, at the hospital, they won't try to save my life.
When you are sick or injured and admitted to a hospital, the priority is to save your life.
Rich or famous people on the waiting list get organs faster.
The factors used in matching include blood type, time spent waiting, other important medical information, how sick the person is, and geographic location.
People can buy and sell organs
Organ trafficking is a punishable offense
If I am in a coma, they could take my organs.
Deceased organ donors are patients who have been declared brain dead. Brain death is NOT the same as coma. People can recover from comas, but not from brain death. Brain death is final.
My family will have to pay for the donation.
By law, there is no cost to donors or their families for organ or tissue donation.
Organ and tissue donation will disfigure my body.
Donated organs are removed surgically; since the donor's body is dressed for burial, signs of organ or tissue donation will not be visible.
1. Mayo Clinic, Healthy Lifestyle: Consumer Health, available online: https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/consumer-health/in-depth/organ-donation/art-20047529 accessed on 9/18/2019.
2. National Kidney Foundation, Organ Donation, available online: https://www.kidney.org/atoz/content/orgdonor, accessed on 9/18/2019.
3. World Health Organization, Human Organ Transplantation, available online: https://www.who.int/transplantation/organ/en accessed on 9/20/2019.


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About Skinsradiosucks
The Waterboy
- Birthday 06/05/1976
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Gloucester, Virginia
Being my favorite player is Jason Witten, I'd lean toward "no" on that question. I can like a franchise, but not ALL of its players. You won;t catch me with an 81 or 21 on my chest.
Very Mature thread. Wouldnt expect any less if my ass was as sore as the rest of you. For crap's sakes, you are ripping on a team that is FIGHTING just to make the playoffs! Every team has stupid fans...I live in Redskins country and believe me, they are HORRIBLE to listen to. Redskins radio is some of the worst, most biased crap in the history of broadcasting. The local papers are STILL trying to make Jason Campbell out to be going through "growing pains". And I still have to read how bad "Tony Romo sucks because he throws INTs!!". Lame. If Jason Campbell threw up 300+ yards and 3 TDs to 1 Int most games, Redskins Nation would be declaring him the greatest QB in the NFL for the last 20 years! Sonny and Sam would have heart attacks and spill their whiskey they obviously hit on while doing their "radio broadcast" just watching the ball get thrown over 7 yards more than twice a game. As for the Eagles fans? Do we really need to say anything? McNabb has shown he has no heart and Andy Reid has too many personal issues to coach effectively. They still have the ability to pull out a good game here and there, but for the most part...DONE. Bottom Line....You guys will always have to deal with the Cowboys. They are the heroes of the NFL, riding into town in their white and blue...the big Star on their helmets reminding everyone that the big time has come to their stadium. The hole is there...God watches his team play. And the rest of the NFL can't stand them for it!


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(10-05-2012, 12:35 AM)CollegeCatholic Wrote: Over in the "No More SSPX Talks" thread, there has been pro-Mueller outrage-fest because Mithrandylan dared to state, clearly, that Abp. Mueller is a modernist.
Well, where the hell is the outrage on what Abp. Mueller has said about Bishop Williamson? This has a LOT more effect and consequences than anything a FishEaters poster will ever say.
I object to Mith calling him scum, more than I object to "modernist". A person might honestly believe ++Muller is a modernist, but the use of "scum" seems to indicate a wish to be offensive.
Still, I find ++Muller's comments regarding +Williamson far more troubling. A man in the Archbishop's position has a lot more responsibility to speak prudently than Mith does. In effect, the Archbishop declared people excommunicated who are explicitly not excommunicated. At the very least, that will cause confusion.
It does not quite reach outrage, but I am significantly upset.


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Broda Shaggi – Okoto ft. Zlatan MP3 DOWNLOAD
Popular comedian cum singer, Broda Shaggi has released his highly anticipated debut studio album tagged 'Fine Boy Agbero EP (Volume 1)'.
The new EP consists of 5-tracks and has guest appearance from Zlatan.
Off his new EP, here is a new single titled 'Okoto' featuring Zanku Records Leader, Zlatan.
Listen and share your thoughts below!


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Catholic Youth Organization (C.Y.O.) Sports
is one component of a comprehensive youth ministry program, which enables the partnership
of adult Catholic leaders to manage and support a sports program. The program allows the youth to grow
in their relationship with God and come to better understand themselves and the Catholic faith.
Registration for St. Hilary's Fall Sports is now open. We offer the following programs:
Click Here to Register
Support CYO:
CYO Fundraisers: We need your support to help us keep this program a success. Some of our fundraisers include: Quizzo, Name that Tune, Family Bingo, and 7th and 8th Grade dances.
If anyone ever has any fundraiser ideas or experience as a coach, please don't hesitate to contact any of the Board members. Teamwork is the key to success.
NOTE: All basketball and soccer uniforms must be returned at the end of the season. Your compliance with this matter helps us keep our cost down.
Athletic Board - Grade School
Vice President: Jill Landgrebe
Treasurer: Tom Yaegel
Secretary: Kristina Ryan
Athletic Directors: Kim Tingley-Kelley and Kevin Tracey
Uniforms: Sam Kilgallen
Registrar: Kevin Kots


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Pluto makes his debut to Disney by Britto getting the pop art treatment of Romero Britto. Material: Stone resin
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Empowering Civil Society and Governmental Agencies to Mainstream Biodiversity and Ecosystem Service Values into Development Plans for the Chindwin River Basin, Myanmar
Funding sources: Critical Ecosystem Partnership Fund (CEPF)
Timeframe: 1 April 2017 – 31 March 2019 (2 years)
Project location: Chindwin River Basin, Myanmar
Project objective:
Project outcomes:
Project Approach:
"Saving Chindwin's Biodiversity" gives the perspectives of the people living in the basin who talk about their lives and livelihoods, the threats to the natural resources such as from mining, and their ongoing efforts to urgently protect the basin's natur
SEI scientists say Myanmar's rapid economic development threatens the Chindwin Basin's flora and fauna and the local livelihoods dependent on these resources. Implementing a host of conservation measures can save these valuable natural resources.
SEI organized a biodiversity assessment training workshop on 15-16 August 2018. The participants included government organizations, academics and civil society. The aim of the workshop was to build the capacity of participants using tools such as QGIS and


text: https://bugs.freebsd.org/bugzilla/show_bug.cgi?id=229759 Bug ID: 229759 Summary: multimedia/vlc-qt4 fails to build, when qt5 is also installed Product: Ports & Packages Version: Latest Hardware: Any OS: Any Status: New Keywords: easy, patch Severity: Affects Only Me Priority: --- Component: Individual Port(s) Assignee: multimedia at FreeBSD.org Reporter: mi at FreeBSD.org CC: kde at FreeBSD.org Flags: maintainer-feedback?(multimedia at FreeBSD.org) Assignee: multimedia at FreeBSD.org Attempting to build vlc-qt4 kept failing with cpp-errors (this file was generated with moc-5....) until I modified qt.mk as below to explicitly add MOC to the environment bypassing the qtchooser: --- Uses/qt.mk (revision 474594) +++ Uses/qt.mk (working copy) @@ -118,8 +118,8 @@ . endfor # Pass the chosen Qt version to the environment for qtchooser. -CONFIGURE_ENV+= QT_SELECT=${_QT_RELNAME} -MAKE_ENV+= QT_SELECT=${_QT_RELNAME} +CONFIGURE_ENV+= QT_SELECT=${_QT_RELNAME} MOC=${MOC:Q} +MAKE_ENV+= QT_SELECT=${_QT_RELNAME} MOC=${MOC:Q} # Make sure both the installed mkspecs as well as the ones being built are # found, with the ones from the port being built having preference. Other ports using moc (or anything else backed by qtchooser) may be affected too -- this is not something, that would show up in a pristine build... -- You are receiving this mail because: You are the assignee for the bug.


text:
ZURI WIDOW · Genehtik · kenevir tohum · Disi · Fem
Güvenli Alışveriş
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Zuri Widow · Genehtik Seeds
In the late nineties is the beginning of the grows in the state, then it was in Bilbao WHITE WIDOW very special one, selected years ago by several illustrious growers, indoor growing pioneers and activism vascas.Ganadora of cannabis in multiple lands awards.
Admired for its white appearance extremely resinous and pungent floral aroma and ocher informer. Dry earthy taste, reminiscent of the moss while potently dulce.Efecto touch white indicated to stop more than one, but has a touch sativa that does not let you turn it off. Plant small, very good for hydroponic cultivation, with very broad leaves and dark green.
The production is average but his hard white buds, compact and tight, once dry, open to crumble more than any other variety.
Outdoors is done as a shrub, medium and very wide with lots of branching and compact resinous buds.
Features. -
Type: Indica
Production: 400-450 gr/m2
Flowering indoor: 52-58 days
Outdoor Harvest: September / OctubreTipo: Indicates