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Sweetheart Beaded Lace Trumpet Gown Style CRL277
This item is available in stores and online.*
Feminine and elegant, this strapless sweetheart trumpet gown is classically beautiful.
*SPECIAL VALUE! Was $1,050.00, Now $750.00!(final selling price; no additional discount may be applied).
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A train that just brushes the floor.
A popular neckline for brides seeking a stylish and versatile look (offering unlimited jewelry and accessory options).
A dress or skirt that is fitted at the top and flairs below the knee. Also known as fishtail or mermaid style.
A sheer to semi-sheer net fabric often used for skirts and veils. Can also be used as an underskirt to create fullness.
customers bought with this dress
Sweetheart Beaded Lace Trumpet Gown Style CRL277 188 190
STUNNING! I had no intentions of buying a mermaid style or strapless gown, but once I tried this on, no other dress compared! I have a very straight up and down shape with no hips, but you would never know in this dress. Even for me, it gave me a beautiful shape and truly makes you feel like a woman! I absolutely love it! September 30, 2010
Amazing Dress This dress made my perfect wedding day a reality! It was absolutely gorgeous. I felt like a million bucks and everyone loved how this dress looked. Davids Bridal did an amazing job with fitting the dress to my body exactly how I wanted it. I wish I could wear it again. September 24, 2010
Perfect Choice! I bought this dress for my 40th Wedding Anniversary - a formal dinner/dance. I loved it the minute I tried it on in the store. I received wonderful comments all night long. It was elegant, graceful and romantic, everything I was looking for in a special dress. I got it in the ivory and it is absolutely beautiful. Yes, it was tight in the bust but they were able to let it out and take it in everywhere else. I also had the beaded cap sleeves added and it made the dress even more beautiful. I also had it permanently bustled with 5 tiers and it looked great. I also agree with one woman who said it was very comfortable - I danced and sat with no problem and it was not heavy at all. Loved this dress, wish I could wear it again. September 22, 2010
Love the Dress!! This dress is perfect! I tried on about 6 other dresses before this one. Once I put this on it was the one. The only thing to let buyers know is that I purchased an Ivory dress, I was married out doors & in all my photos my dress looks white...So I am glad that I did not get this dress is white because it wouldve been "too" white. September 20, 2010
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*Color & Style representation may vary by monitor. Not responsible for typographical or pictorial errors. Product availability varies by store and online. Some in-store purchases require special order and markdown styles cannot be special ordered. Contact your local store for details.


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"When do we leave?"
"Monday at dawn. Bring your gear aboard tomorrow and we'll get it stowed away."
Laurenson stood up. "Good. We'd better get back to the hotel and pack." He picked up his camera and started toward the hatch, stooping low to keep from banging his head.
His wife was already on the ladder. Halfway up, she turned and looked back. "It's nice of you to take us along, Mr. Maier. I hope we won't be any trouble."
The skipper stood up. "Not at all - and don't call me Mr. Maier. My name's Chick."
Laurenson smiled and helped his wife up the ladder to the deck, where a small fellow with a new growth of beard was patching a sail. He looked up: "You decided to make the trip?"
"Yes," Laurenson replied. "Should be quite an adventure."
The skipper lifted himself through the hatch and stood beside them in the hot Caribbean sun. "You may change your mind before we get there," he said. "Two weeks at sea is a long time."
"I think well love it," said Anne.
Maier shrugged and lit a cigarette.
Laurenson watched him curiously. The skipper was a full head shorter than he was, but probably weighted about the same. He was somewhere in his early thirties, with heavy shoulders and short muscular legs. He wore nothing but a pair of ragged khaki shorts, and the hair on his body was three different colors: a crisp blond on his legs and head, dark brown on his chest and shoulders, and dull red in his beard.
Laurenson was about to step over to the dock when Maier called him back: "Why don't you give me the money now, so I can get the groceries."
Laurenson handed him the checks and Maier counted them. "Okay," he said. "Get here about noon tomorrow. We have some work to do."
Anne smiled impishly. "You want me to work, too?"
Maier looked at her. "I'll put you to work," he said quietly. "You look like you might be good for something."
Laurenson felt his stomach tighten. "Come on," he said. "Let's go."
He followed Anne along the rickety pier. At the end they stopped to look back at Maiers boat. It was an old, fifty-foot sloop with a black hull and the name "Sebastian" painted in gold letters on the stern. It was a little different from the others in the harbor. They were charter-boats, everything from tiny sloops to huge, three-masted schooners, and their naked spars swayed lazily against a background of green hills and bright blue sky.
The Laurensons were taking an island-hopping vacation. They had started in Trinidad and worked their way north to St. Cyr. Now, instead of flying back to Cleveland, where he was in hi last year of medical school, they were going back to the States on the Sebastian.
After breakfast the next day they took their gear aboard the Sebastians and stowed it in lockers below their bunks on either side of the main cabin. Maier and the other crewman, Bill Eble, would sleep in the skippers cabin in the stern.
Maier had gone ashore and Eble told them what had to be done. He was young, slightly pudgy, and obviously working very hard to grow a beard. He told them he'd met Maier through a mutual friend in New York and had flown down several weeks ago to "give Chick a hand" on the trip back to Long Island, where the boat would stay for the summer.
Maier appeared late in the afternoon, still wearing nothing but the khaki shorts. he carried a can of beer and a thick piece of rope that he slapped on the mast, and occasionally on the palm of his hand.
Laurenson suspected he was drunk. Christ, he thought, the little ape carries this skipper act right to the limit - strutting around the deck with a goddamn whip!
Maier tossed the empty beer can into the harbor. "Anne," he said, "go down and fix us a little grub. Theres some ground beef in the icebox. Might as well eat it before it goes bad."
Laurenson looked up from the rope he was splicing. "We'll eat in town tonight," he said. "We want to try the lobster at Gianinni's."
Maier shook his head. "It's rotten - take my word for it." He lit a cigarette. "No sense in not eating here. Like I said, you're my guests for the next two weeks." He pointed the rope at Eble. "Bill, go below and show Anne how to work the stove."
No one moved for a moment, then Eble got up and started down the ladder. Anne followed obediently.
Almost an hour went by before she re-appeared. Her hair was mussed and her face was damp with sweat. "Ready," she said meekly.
"Hot damn!" Maier exclaimed. "Let's eat. Come on Laurenson. You look like you need it."
The table in the main cabin was neatly set with four plates of ground beef and string beans. Maier and Laurenson sat on one side of the table, with Anne and Eble on the other.
Nothing was said until the meal was over. "We'll take turns cleaning up the galley," Maier said. "Tonight the job falls to seaman Laurenson."
Eble went up on deck and Laurenson joined his wife in the kitchen. "Jesus," he muttered, "this may not be as much of a lark as I thought."
It was still dark when Maier woke them the next morning. "Let's get going," he snapped. "I want to clear this harbor before the sun comes up."
Maier announced the watches while Eble hoisted the jib. "You and Bill will be together," he said to Laurenson, "and me and Anne will take the other one. That way we'll have one experienced hand on deck all the time."
Laurenson was instantly awake. "How does this watch business work?" he said quickly.
Maier smiled, swacking the rope-whip against his palm. "I thought you were the big sailor, Laurenson. One watch handles the boat while the other sleeps. We'll be four on, four off. That means you'll work four hours, then sleep." He paused for an instant. "And you'd better damn well get your sleep, because you'll need it."
Laurenson felt a flutter of panic. He tried to catch Anne's eye, but she was looking down at the deck.
By the time the sun came up the Sebastian was in open water with the bow pointed north to Bermuda. The sea was smooth. Maier and Eble took turns at the helm. Anne made lunch and Laurenson did his best to grasp the basic elements of sailing.
At noon, Maier took a sun-sight with the sextant. "Get a good look at that land," he shouted, pointing to St. Cyr. on the horizon. "It's the last you'll see for a week."
In the afternoon Eble showed Laurenson how to steer a compass course. The day passed slowly and he was tired when Maier called him for the eight-to-midnight watch. "Come on Laurenson, hit the deck. Me and Anne have to get some sleep."
Laurenson steered for an hour, but found it difficult to concentrate. The cockpit was above Maier's cabin and he listened carefully for any sounds.
Maier appeared exactly at midnight and Laurenson went below to wake Anne. She was already up.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Fine. Is anything wrong."
His next words were out of his mouth before he realized it. "Don't let him bother you," he whispered. "Call me if anything happens."
She smiled and kissed him lightly. "Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen." Then she flitted like a host through the cabin and up the hatch.
The wind was steady the next day and Maier put up the big Genoa to catch more wind. "We may hoist the spinnaker later on," he said. "Take advantage of every puff we can."
At noon he called for the sinnaker and sent Laurenson out on the bowsprint to haul in the jib. When the head of the sail fell into the water, Maier exploded. "You worthless bastard! Can't you do anything right?"
Laurenson gritted his teeth and said nothing. Later, when the watches changed, he found Anne alone in the cabin. "One of these days I'm going to punch that hairy little bastard in the face," he whispered.
She avoided his eyes. "After all," she said. "You did drop the sail."
"Well Christ," he said. "Christ alive, he can at least be decent about it."
That night, after going off watch, he lay in his bunk for almost an hour, listening intently for sounds from the deck. He could hear them talking, but couldn't make out what they said. The conversation was broken by long silences and finally he could stand it no longer.
With his heart thumping, he climbed the ladder and stepped onto the deck. Anne was sitting in the cockpit, holding the tiller, and Maier was kneeling behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She was smiling and her blond hair glowed in th emoonlight. Laurenson thought he saw the skipper's hands moving slowly at the base of her neck.
Maier looked up. "What the hell are you doing up here Laurenson? You're gonna wish you'd been asleep when I get you up at midnight."
Laurenson wanted to smash his arrogant mouth. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said.
"What the hell do you think the head is for?" Maier snapped, not taking his hands off Anne's shoulders.
Laurenson headed for the stern, looking straight ahead. "It's easier back here," he mumbled.
He had to pass Maier to get back to the hatch, and as he did, the skipper looked up. "You satisfied?" he said, smiling faintly.
"Yeah," Laurenson muttered, turning to go down the hatch. Halfway to go he paused to look at Anne. She was smiling again, and now he was sure Maier's hands were moving on her shoulders.
The next day Maier was after him constantly:
j"Laurenson, scrub down the galley. The place stinks like a pig-hole!"
"Laurenson, straighten the sail-bags in the lazerette. I want them in order in case we hit a squall."
"Laurenson, get down there and pump the bilge. We have enough dead weight aboard, without adding a hundred gallons of sea-water."
In the afternoon, according to Maier's prediction, they entered the Sargasso Sea. It was like a huge, dirty lake in the middle of the ocean. Great chunks of sargasso weed drifted slowly past the boat. The sails flapped and fluttered in the dying wind, and even the light ballooner jib was almost useless. The Sebastian had no engine and Maier seemed resigned to drift in the doldrums for as long as God willed. "Not a damn thing I can do about it," he said with a shrug. "Just try to keep moving and pray for wind."
Laurenson had the midnight watch on their second day in the doldrums. He and Eble sat across from each other in the cockpit. After an hour of nervous silence, with the boom clattering back and forth across their heads, Laurenson got up and went below.
Before he was halfway down the ladder he sensed that Anne was not in her bunk. It was pitch-dark in the cabin and he groped in the cold sheets that lay tangled at the foot of the bed, clinging to some faint hope that he wold find her.
Then he looked to the galley, striking a match to make sure no one was there. She wasn't on deck, so she had to be in one of two places - the head, or Maier's cabin.
He felt his way back to the stern, breathing rapidly. Both doors were closed and he heard nothing. He touched the door to the head, wanting to jerk it open.
But he couldn't. Nothing could make him knock or call her name. Maier's door was behind him, but he couldn't look at it. He just stood there, stroking the door to the head.
After several minutes he climbed back to the deck. His hands trembled and his eyes seemed unable to focus. Eble had one foot on the tiller, watching the North Star. He seemed startled as Laurenson stumbling into the cockpit and slumped down on the cushions. "What's wrong?" he said.
Laurenson put his head in his hands. "I'm sick," he mumbled. "I've got to get off this boat. I'm getting sick."
Eble watched him for a moment, then looked down at the compass. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I think I know what you mean."
Laurenson said nothing for several minutes, then suddenly got to his feet and picked up a steel winch handle half the size of a baseball bat. If she was down there with him, she was a whore - he'd beat them both to within an inch of their lives. He moved purposely towards the hatch.
Eble called after him: "Where are you going?"
"To settle this damn thing!" Laurenson replied, starting down the ladder. At the bottom, he looked into the main cabin.
Anne was in her bunk. There was enough light for him to be sure there was a body between the sheets. He tip-toed in and lit a match. She was sound asleep. He put the match up to the bunk and saw shadows flicker in her blond hair, saw her naked shoulders glow in the dim light.
Maier shook him awake at dawn the next day. "All hands on deck! We're about to get a workout."
Laurenson kicked savagely at the hand on his leg. "Don't touch me!" he screamed. "I'm getting up!"
Maier's eyes narrowed. He turned and walked away without a word. Laurenson began dressing.
When he got on deck he saw what Maier had meant. A dangerous looking squall blackened the whole northern horizon.
They ate a hurried breakfast and the squall struck just as they finished. A light rain came first, then a hellish wind, and finally a roaring, pounding sea that threatened to smash the boat to splinters at any moment.
Laurenson watched from his perch on the leeward deck, clinging to the cockpit rail to keep from being washed overboard. The sky was almost black and it was impossible to see more than twenty yards in any direction. The Sebastian was heeled over at an impossible angle and every big white-cap he saw brought him closer to panic.
Suddenly a wild shout came from the direction of the bow, scaring Laurenson so badly that he almost lost his grip. "Chick! The jib!"
Laurenson looked up and saw the top of the jib literally going to pieces in the wind. Three seams had parted and two more ripped out in the space of thirty seconds.
"Haul it down!" Maier shouted. "Get the bastard down!" He turned to Laurenson: "Get me the staysail out of the lazerette! Goddamnit, move!"
Laurenson was petrified with fear. He was only six feet from the laerette, but as he looked back at it, trying to make himself move, it seemed like sixty yards of open water. Maier's scream jolted him into action. "Laurenson! You stupid bastard! Bring me that sail!"
Laurenson began to inch his way along the deck toward the lazerette. He moved sideways on his belly, feeling the water rush over him as he clung to the rail. His hands were numb, and ice-cold saltwater raced through his crotch.
The instant he lifted the cover to the lazerette the sea jerked it out of his hands and carried it away. It sank instantly and the loss filled him with such fear and despair that he began to cry. He lay there on his belly, sobbing as he groped for the bag that contained the staysail.
He pulled it out, barely able to see, and started crawling along the deck to the bow. As he passed the main hatch he saw Anne standing there on the ladder, wearing a rain-jacket and watching him with an expression on her face he had never seen before. He turned his head as he passed her.
Maier was screaming savagely when he finally got to the bow. "The sail! You stupid bastard! Give me the goddamn sail!" He was out on the bowsprit, his legs wrapped around it, facing the stern and hanging on to the forward stay.
Laurenson worked desperately with the knot at the top of the sailbag, but it was soaking wet and his hands shook so badly that he could barely hold it.
"Cut it!" Maier screamed.
Eble reached over with a knife and slashed the rope. Laurenson jerked the bag open.
The first thing he pulled out was a brown sweater. The spray was so heavy that he could barely see what he had in his hands, but he knew it wasn't a sail. Desperately, he reached in again. This time he came up with a pair of khaki pants.
Maier's scream made the sea seem calm. It was a wild, piercing shriek:"Oh crazy God! you've brought me a bag of clothes!"
Laurenson looked up, his face twisted with fear and confusion, and saw Maier hurl the jib halyard at him. The big steel leader thumped into his chest like a cannonball.
He fell backward, tripped over the hatch, and slid down the deck toward the rail. He grabbed for the mast, but couldn't hold on. Just at his feet went into the water, he felt his arm hit the wire lifeline.
He hung there, sobbing and gasping while Eble went back for the staysail and the two men put it up. Finally, they hauled him back aboard and he lay on the deck, gasping for air and vomiting water.
Somehow he got down to the cabin, where he slept for several hours. When he woke up the squall had passed. No one spoke whne he appeared on deck, so he sat alone on the bow and watched the sun go down. Just as it got dark they saw a light on the horizon. Maier looked up from his seat in the cockpit. "There's Bermuda," he said quietly. "That's the Globe Hill light."
There was little conversation when the watches changed at eight. Laurenson took the tiller and concentrated on the tiny, blinking light far out on the horizon.
He could never forget the horror of this day. Bruce Laurenson, proud scion of one of Cleveland's best families, insulted and beaten - by a common sailor, a vicious ignorant bum. Reduced to hopeless jelly by a cheap sea-thug. And if that wasn't enough, his wife was somehow attracted to the brute, maybe even whoring with him.
He wondered what his friends would say if he came back without here. What about his parents? And hers? What could he say? He thought about it for a while and finally decided he'd simply tell them the truth - that she had suddenly turned into a whore.
The light was closer now and he knew it was only a matter of hours. He would get a plane, with or without here. He would ask her, give her a chance but that was all. No fogiveness. And once they got back to Cleveland he'd really lay into her.
When the Sebastian was finally secured Maier seemed almost cheerful. "Okay," he said with a smile. "Let's all get a good night's sleep."
As they started below, Maier put his hand on Eble's shoulder. "I thought you were going to sleep on deck."
Eble hesitated. "Oh yeah," he replied. "That's right." He stayed on deck while Maier went below and handed up a rubber mattress.
They were getting undressed - Anne behind a curtain at the foot of her bunk - when Maier looked in to say goodnight. His voice was friendly and his face looked relaxed for the first time since they'd left St. Cyr.
Laurenson stepped over to Anne's bunk. She was lying on her back with the sheet pulled up to her chin. As he started to speak she reached out for his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry about this afternoon," she whispered.
He looked down on her. "Don't worry," he said gently. "It's all over."
She squeezed his hand again. "I wish we'd never seen this boat," she whispered. "I'd give anything to wake up at home tomorrow."
"We can fly," he said quickly.
She stroked his arm. "We can't afford it," she said.
"The hell we can't," he replied. "We have at least that much - probably a little more." He leaned down to kiss her on the lips.
She held him there for a moment, then rolled over on her side, turning her face to the wall. "I'm so tired I can't think," she said wearily.
He climbed into his bunk and turned out the tiny light above his head. She'll go, he thought. She hate it as much as I do.
His mind was too busy to let him sleep, and he'd been lying there for almost an hour when he heard her whispered call: "Bruce, are you awake?"
He kept his eyes shut and feigned sleep, hoping she'd try to wake him like she did when they were first married - by stroking his thighs and stomach until he came trembling to life.
Then he heard the sound of her bare feet padding toward the stern.
Words froze in his throat. His body tensed as he waited for the next sound. Was she going to the head? It had a sliding door and he waited for the unmistakable sound of it opening.
It was faint and slow when it came - not the sound of a sliding door, but the creak of hinges, of a door being opened with slow and painful stealth.
It was the door to Maier's cabin. He clenched his fists, waiting, and heard it shut just as slowly as it had been opened.
Then, after what seemed like a long time, he heard a sound - a strange waling moan, the sound of a human voice forcing its way, under terrible pressure, to open air.
It took him several seconds to realize the sound was coming from his own body. Without realizing how he got there he found himself on deck, vomiting over the side.
Then he was back in the cabin, tears streaming down his face as he jammed his clothes into a suitcase. He paid no attention to the noise he was making, but when he got back to the deck Eble seemed fast asleep. Laurenson ignored him and climbed over the rail to the dingy. The little boat lurched wildly back and forth as he tried to cast off the rope that held it to the Sebastian. But the knot was wet and he couldn't break it.
Sobbing with pain and frustration, he groped in his shaving kit for the razor. It took him several minutes to sever the half-inch rope. He cut himself several times before the rope finally parted.
He shoved away, leaving bloody fingerprints on the Sebastian's hull. His hands hurt so badly that he could barely row, and his groans floated across the dark water.
When he got to the pier he climbed out of the dingy and shoved it away, hoping some wandering tide would carry it out to sea. He stood there and looked out at the boat, a long ghostly shape several hundred yards away. Then, for a brief instant, he thought he saw a light - maybe a match, or a cigarette lighter. It enraged him to think they'd been standing there on the deck, watching him row away and listening to his groans. "You bastards!" he screamed, waving his fist in the air. "You rotten bastards! You scum!"
He heard his voice echo around the harbor and waited for a reply. When none came, he jerked his suitcase off the pier and hurried past the yacht club to the dark street.
There were no cars on the road to the city and he walked for more than an hour. Finally, numb with exhaustion, he collapsed in a field beside the road and slept until morning.
A Negro driving a bakery truck gave him a ride into the city the next day and he took a cab to the airport. By noon he was o his way to New York. He would be there in a few hours, then change planes for Cleveland. According to his ticket, he would be home by nine-thirty that night.
(via gonzo.org)
The death of professional hockey in AMERICA is a nasty omen for people with heavy investments in NHL teams. But to me, it meant little or nothing — and that's why I called Bill Murray with an idea that would change both our lives forever.
It was 3:30 on a dark Tuesday morning when I heard the phone ring on his personal line in New Jersey. "Good thinking," I said to myself as I fired up a thin Cohiba. "He's bound to be wide awake and crackling at this time of day, or at least I can leave a very excited message."
My eerie hunch was right. The crazy bugger picked up on the fourth ring, and I felt my heart racing. "Hot damn!" I thought. "This is how empires are built." Late? I know not late.
Genius round the world stands hand in hand, and one shock of recognition runs the whole circle round.
Herman Melville said that in the winter of 1914, and Murray is keenly aware of it. Only a madman would call a legend of Bill Murray's stature at 3:33 a.m. for no good reason at all. It would be a career-ending move, and also profoundly rude.
But my reason was better than good …
* * * * *
BILL: "Hello?"
HST: "Hi, Bill, it's Hunter."
BILL: "Hi, Hunter."
HST: "Are you ready for a powerful idea? I want to ask you about golf in Japan. I understand they're building vertical driving ranges on top of each other."
BILL (sounding strangely alert): "Yes, they have them outdoors, under roofs …"
HST: "I've seen pictures. I thought they looked like bowling alleys stacked on top of each other."
BILL: (Laughs.)
HST: "I'm working on a profoundly goofy story here. It's wonderful. I've invented a new sport. It's called Shotgun Golf. We will rule the world with this thing."
BILL: "Mmhmm."
HST: "I've called you for some consulting advice on how to launch it. We've actually already launched it. Last spring, the Sheriff and I played a game outside in the yard here. He had my Ping Beryllium 9-iron, and I had his shotgun, and about 100 yards away, we had a linoleum green and a flag set up. He was pitching toward the green. And I was standing about 10 feet away from him, with the alley-sweeper. And my objective was to blow his ball off course, like a clay pigeon."
BILL: (Laughs.)
HST: "It didn't work at first. The birdshot I was using was too small. But double-aught buck finally worked for sure. And it was fun."
BILL: (Chuckles.)
HST: "OK, I didn't want to wake you up, but I knew you'd want to be in on the ground floor of this thing."
BILL: (Silence.)
HST: "Do you want to discuss this tomorrow?"
BILL: "Sure."
HST: "Excellent."
BILL: "I think I might have a queer dream about it now, but …" (Laughs.)
HST: "This sport has a HUGE future. Golf in America will soon come to this."
BILL: "It will bring a whole new meaning to the words 'Driving Range'."
HST: "Especially when you stack them on top of each other. I've seen it in Japan."
BILL: "They definitely have multi-level driving ranges. Yes."
HST: (Laughs.) "How does that work? Do they have extremely high ceilings?"
BILL: "No. The roof above your tee only projects out about 10 feet, and they have another range right above you. It's like they took the façade off a building. People would be hanging out of their offices."
HST: "I see. It's like one of those original Hyatt Regency Hotels. Like an atrium. In the middle of the building you could jump straight down into the lobby?"
BILL: "Exactly like that!"
HST: "It's like people driving balls from one balcony to the next."
BILL: (Laughs.) "Yes, they could."
HST: "I could be on the eighth floor and you on the sixth? Or on the fifteenth. And we'd be driving across a lake."
BILL: "They have flags out every 150 yards, every 200 yards, every 250 yards. It's just whether you are hitting it at ground level, or from five stories up."
HST: "I want to find out more about this. This definitely has a future to it."
BILL: "They have one here in the city — down at Chelsea Pier."
HST: "You must have played a lot of golf in Japan."
BILL: "Not much; I just had one really great day of golf. I worked most of the time. But I did play one beautiful golf course. They have seasonal greens, two different types of grass. It's really beautiful."
HST: "Well, I'm writing a column for ESPN.com and I want to know if you like my new golf idea. A two-man team."
BILL: "Well, with all safety in mind, yes. Two-man team? Yeah! That sounds great. I think it would create a whole new look. It would create a whole new clothing line."
HST: "Absolutely. You'll need a whole new wardrobe for this game."
BILL: "Shooting glasses and everything."
HST: "We'll obviously have to make a movie. This will mushroom or mutate — either way — into a real craze. And given the mood of this country, being that a lot of people in the mood to play golf are also in the mood to shoot something, I think it would take off like a gigantic fad."
BILL: "I think the two-man team idea would be wonderful competition and is something the Ryder Cup would pick up on."
HST: "I was talking with the Sheriff about it earlier. But in one-man competition, I'd have to compete against you, say, in both of the arts — the shooting AND the golfing. But if you do the Ryder Cup, you'd have to have the clothing line first. I'm going to write about this for ESPN tonight. I'm naming you and the Sheriff as the founding consultants."
BILL: "Sounds good."
HST: "OK, I'll call you tomorrow. And by the way, I'll see if I can twist some arms and get you an Oscar. But I want a Nobel Prize in return."
BILL: "Well, we can work together on this. This is definitely a team challenge." (Laughing.)
HST: "OK. We'll talk tomorrow."
BILL: "Good night."
So there it is. Shotgun Golf will soon take America by storm. I see it as the first truly violent leisure sport. Millions will crave it.
* * * * *
Shotgun Golf was invented in the ominous summer of 2004 AD, right here at the Owl Farm in Woody Creek, Colo. The first game was played between me and Sheriff Bob Braudis, on the ancient Bomb & Shooting Range of the Woody Creek Rod & Gun Club. It was witnessed by many members and other invited guests, and filmed for historical purposes by Dr. Thompson on Super-Beta videotape.
The game consists of one golfer, one shooter and a field judge. The purpose of the game is to shoot your opponent's high-flying golf ball out of the air with a finely-tuned 12-gauge shotgun, thus preventing him (your opponent) from lofting a 9-iron approach shot onto a distant "green" and making a "hole in one." Points are scored by blasting your opponent's shiny new Titleist out of the air and causing his shot to fail miserably. That earns you two points.
But if you miss and your enemy holes out, he (or she) wins two points when his ball hits and stays on the green.
And after that, you trade places and equipment, and move on to round 2.
My patent is pending, and the train is leaving the station, and Murray is a Founding Consultant, along with the Sheriff, and Keith Richards, etc., etc. Invest now or forever hold your peace.
* * * * *
As for Bill's triumphant finish at Pebble Beach, I am almost insanely proud of him. He is an elegant athlete in the finest Murray tradition. Bill is a dangerous brute with the fastest reflexes in Hollywood, but he is suave, and that is why I trust him even more than I trust all his brothers. Yes, I say Hallelujah, praise Jesus. Where is Brian? I will need him for this golf project, if only to offset Bill's bitchiness. We will march on a road of bones.
OK. Back to business. It was Bill Murray who taught me how to mortify your opponents in any sporting contest, honest or otherwise. He taught me my humiliating PGA fadeaway shot, which has earned me a lot of money … after that, I taught him how to swim, and then I introduced him to the shooting arts, and now he wins everything he touches. Welcome to the future of America. Welcome to Shotgun Golf.
So long and Mahalo.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Discover Author
Andrea White was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, but has spent most of her life in Houston, Texas. She received both undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Texas. She has had several short stories published; this is her first book.
Besides writing, Ms. White is a community volunteer and education activist. She is married to Bill White, formerly an energy official in the Clinton administration and now the mayor of Houston. The Whites have three children: Will, Elena, and Stephen. They love to hike and camp, and although they've had some hair-raising adventures, says Ms. White, all were tame compared to what happens in Surviving Antarctica.
Copyright © 2014 HarperCollins Publishers. All rights reserved.
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Guys Ask Girls OR Girls Ask Guys?
Is that a bad thing? Ha..My class was debating about it with our guy teacher. He says girls should ask guys cause guys will get scared, nervous, etc. But uh...ain't it supposed to be their job?? Cause if girls do it then the guys will think you are desperate. And it ain't easy for us to ask either. So uh.... who is supposed to ask who? And is it a bad thing if girls ask guys?
What's Your Opinion?
Most Helpful Opinion
It's not something you can generaliz to all guys and all girls and say "guys should do that asking" or "girls should do the asking". It's all a mater of who is going to be the more dominant partner in a relationship. The person with the more dominant personality will likely be the one to make the first move and ask the other out. Now when I say dominant I don't mean controlling, superior, or any of that crap. It's not about calling all the shots or anything like that. Just in general, a relationship needs one leader and one follower (again those terms have nothing to do with strength or weakness, just generalized personality types). Two people trying to lead will compete for dominance, two people trying to follow will never go anywhere. So in summation, the person who does the asking (whether it's guy or girl) is decided by who has the more dominant personali.
What Guys Said 10
f*** masculinity
i hate gender roles
I've never thought a girl would have to be desperate to ask out a guy. It just means they like him. But it should be the guy who asks the girl out. I know too many guys who have broken up with girlfriends because the girlfriends didn't think they were manly enough. So for ladies, I'd suggest that if you really like a guy but think he's too shy to ask you out, then go up to him and let him know that you like him, and let him ask you out.
But what if you both know you like each other (and both of you told the other) but he didn't ask you out yet?
No its never a bad thing . it will let a guy know that your interested in him and may make it easyer for him later on.But ya the guy should be the one asking but I'm old and old fashion lol good luck Ray
I usually don't give answers this simple but I will this time. If you are a male and enjoy woman's company: ask her out. If you are a female and enjoy a man's company just ask him out as well because fate cannot choose your mate for you, you need to take the human being that YOU want to be with rather than listening to society and just accepting who and what you get. I find it strange that we live in a society that permits women and sometimes young girls to chase dozens of men and boys for one night stands, hook-ups, and flings, but when she asks him for a date she is being ''taboo''. Case and point is that sometimes societal taboos have nothing to do with morals and ethics and aren't really ''wrong''
To all the women who are saying it is the mans job because the is a 'manly' thing to do and it has traditionally been done by a man:Please, feel free to cook, clean the house, and do my cloths for me.
A girl can ask the guy out. It's up to you to decide whether or not to. There is nothing wrong with it.Some girls refuse to do it for whatever reason. But they still need to give the guy noticeable hints. The guy wants to minimize his chances of rejection. Remember, it takes two to tango.Also, don't mislead the guy. Don't do anything that would give him the wrong impression.
That's the only thing I don't like about girls. They make everything so complicated, and make big deal out of non-existing problems. If you like him just ask.. It's that simple.
guys > girls, but the other way is welcomed
I wish more girls would approach me because I've always been more on the shy side as it is. Why should it always be our job to do the hard part?
You are rite girls should be brave to and ask put a guy. oh I am a girl by the way
I think if you want something bad enough you go get it, not wait for it to come to you or that way you'll never have it. but I am in favor of both of girls and guys asking each other out.
But you dudes have always did that ... It is man thing it is cute ..
What Girls Said 9
I find it totally strange so many men are scared to ask, it's typically the man and if I have to outright ask him out, then he's not assertive and I'm not gonna want a follower in a man. Like most women, I want a man who leads.
Any kind of relationship is a 50/50 split. Nothing is anybody's "job". If a guy asks a girl out, that means he likes her a lot. So if a girl likes a guy a lot, she should just ask him out. I've asked guys out before and they liked the fact that I made life that much easier by telling them how I felt, rather than waiting for them. Hope this helps.
I want the guy to ask me so I know he's interested. Plus, I wouldn't like any guy that wouldn't approach me.
What Techan said over a year ago is so accurate. Usually the one asking is the one who becomes the dominant person in the relationship. if you want to dominate your man and he's OK with that then more power to you. It's not impossible to ask a guy and be able to change roles back to him so he's dominant but it's really hard. Women tend to like to control a man when they don't agree with what he's doing. When we ask a guy out, it starts the cycle of control and he tends to not be asserive in the rest of the relationship. Also, I think it can make a girl anxious and a guy lazy in the relationship. That's not cool as guys tend to already be less pulled naturally towards the deeper levels of relationship. He wll have even less motivation to deepen with you.i think it is better for a girl to communicate her interest in a guy---clear signs like looking directly at him and smiling, making it easy for him to come over to talk to you, etc. If he's not making a move, I say move on bur you can also just tell him know you like himand would like to dte him if some time has passed or you are in a setting where you won't see him again and leave the ball in his court. be direct and don't put anything heavy into it then move on. If he doesn't ask you out then you don't want ot be with him. Even shy guys can like you enough to go beyond their comfort zone and you'll be thankful he did.
I usually do the asking because I don't like waiting around for the guy to make an excuse to start a conversation or just grow a pair and ask me out :)
It really bothers me when I guy doesn't have enough confidence to ask a girl out. If you flirt with them and create a comfortable atmosphere between the two of you and he still can't ask you out, that's pretty sad. Plus, if the guy does the asking, you know that he's really interested in you.
It may have nothing to do with confidence. For all you know, he could just be missing the signals.
Well the guy is supposed to be the "man." He's supposed to be ask. That's what's typical. It's what people are used to. It could come off as unusual to tell your peers that she asked him out. Girls get nervous, too. And if the guy is so "shy" that he can't ask, then the girl will think it's hopeless and give up. Everyone is different, but I believe the guy should step up when it comes to that stuff.
it's traditional that the male should ask. I never found it a bad thing for a girl to ask though, this is freedom! we do what we want I've asked this guy I like to go out with me and he's my current boyfriend now for a year and 5 months and counting :)If a guy is to scared to ask you out and hands YOU the chore I don't think he's the one you want to be with anyway.women want a confident guy, a protector. asking her out is one way to show you have confidence.
Haha you think it's easy for guys to ask girls out too,just because it's "their job?" And from I hear,some guys like it when a girl asks them out.They seem bolder I guess.Seriously,if you saw a super hot guy with a great personality would you just him pass by just because you think he should be initiating everything?By waiting for them to make the first move,you can miss out on a lot of potentially great catches!So no,it's far from being a bad thing.


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We're not sure about you, but we're not looking forward to watching the Winter Olympics, so rather than be glued to the tube, here's what's going on this weekend. Two great art openings are happening tonight, including Elisa Kreisinger's "Framed" at Kianga Ellis Projects, as well as Derek Rippe's "M ... More >>
[In his column Serrano Time, award-winning writer and goofball Shea Serrano writes about his life and times.] I am working on a new book. I cannot say too much about it yet, other than:
Have you heard the bad news?
If while listening to Jay-Z's Magna Carta Holy Grail, you experienced an indescribable sensation that you were actually listening to an encrypted invitation to a very luxurious party with a super exclusive guest list and even more ridiculous gift wish list, you were right!!! We made note of every pe ... More >>
If things seem a little more heroic around you than usual, it's because today marks the start of the 2012 New York Comic-Con. The NYCC is one of the nation's biggest comic conventions, attracting fans, artists, industry types and celebrities from all over the entertainment world. The lines waiting f ... More >>
Three-time Tony nominee Marin Mazzie (Passion, Ragtime, Kiss Me Kate) premiered a refreshing show of non-theater songs last night at Below 54. Mazzie is a reliable, talented, classy performer, and rather than give us another cabaret show filled with "Children Will Listen" and "Some People," she tre ... More >>
Esther ZuckermanIt's been an Olek kind of week! After she made the Village Voice a present, Jen and I headed to the opening of her show at Jonathan LeVine Gallery last night. It's called "The Bad Artists Imitate, The Great Artists Steal," a variation on a Pablo Picasso quote appropriated by t ... More >>
The Studio Museum in Harlem looks back at a New York art group
courtesy of Violet TimesOne of Electric Eel John Morton's surfing skeletons. Foggy Notion Art Show Opening: art by Neil Michael Hagerty, Hamish Kilgour, Timmy Vulgar, John Morton, Ju Suk Reet Meate, Oblivia, and Peggy Snow; live performances from Sightings and Garbage River Live With Animals ... More >>
The new mascots for the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia are here! They're pretty cute if a little too Pixar. It's a polar bear, a hare, and a leopard with a snowboard. The only one who looks remotely athletic is the leopard. He's actually kind of scary if you look too long into his eyes ... More >>
Clip Job: an excerpt every day from the Voice archives. November 14, 1968, Vol. XIV, No. 5 Ask Not What Nixon Will Do For You by Joe Flaherty ...In this dank, stale room Senate candidate Paul O'Dwyer sat in a chair testily denouncing the polls and the projections that on this early hour cla ... More >>
Clip Job: an excerpt every day from the Voice archives. November 30, 1967, Vol. XIII, No. 7 The Homosexual Clown As Underground Star by Sally Kempton People have been saying for years that Taylor Mead will someday be discovered by the commercial theatre. This has never happened, at least no ... More >>
Your one-stop shopping spot for the finest in blind gossip.
The troubadour returns to regale you with tales of cell phones, lesbian bars, and smelly ponds
A farewell to the choreographer of chance and thrilling universes
Alain Robbe-Grillet questions your identity
A fascinating group media-art show
Honoring a somewhat fatigued Project Runway victor at a South Slope house party
Alain Resnais's Last Year at Marienbad returns
Recommendations by R.C. Baker
MOMA does its reputationand utopian wealth of materiala grave disservice. Again.
Target Margin makes ancient Greek texts lively; Sarah Ruhl gives Eurydice the death blow
What's so fun about 22 guys in spandex slamming into one another? Along for the ride with Jets and Giants fans
Just in time to wind down Hanukkah, a Woody Allen retro
A hooker, a meat dealer, and a skinhead walk into a bar . . .
A line drawn in the psychic sands of American sexual and cultural values
Mabou Mines Plays Out Nuclear War
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A slew of shows turn Paris into a study center in the varieties of photographic realism
Lucy in the sky: No diamonds but plenty of beers on tap
Wrestling With the Legacy of Cinematic Colossus Jean-Luc Godard
Finding Documents the Man Wants to Hide


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Blake's Birth Story
Dean and I were pleasantly surprised to find out that I was pregnant. Though it was a year earlier than we had planned, we were excited. I took the pregnancy test on August 1, 2001 and it turned positive very quickly. Immediately, I ran to Wall-Mart and bought a card and baby outfit to give my husband. I've never seen anyone's face light up like his did when he read that card. The smile has never left.
My pregnancy progressed very easily and I had no problems other than fatigue and an irritating case of carpal tunnel. I gained a total of twenty nine pounds, and my midwives were very pleased with the way things were progressing.
Fast forward to Tuesday, April 8th, 2002. I began leaking fluid and was concerned that my water had possibly broken. I had been feeling slightly crampy and was wondering if Blake was getting ready to be born. His original due date was supposed to be between April 8th and April 10th, so I was very excited that he might be coming soon.
Unfortunately, I was not in early labor and the midwife sent me home telling me that it would be soon, but to continue my normal routine.
I awoke around 1 a.m. on Saturday April 13th with what I KNEW was the onset of labor. As one veteran mom told me "Don't worry, you'll know. There's nothing like it." She was so right.
I began to have pains about every 15 to 45 minutes. Not enough to be a problem but certainly enough to wake me up. I eventually got tired of waking up with every pain and running to the bathroom (Blake was parked on my bladder and his head pushed on it with every contraction). So I got up about 5:30 a.m. and began preparing for the garage/moving sale that we had planned for the day. The pains continued, coming very 15 minutes, lasting 45 to 60 seconds, and were fun to time and get excited over. Still, they were not a problem. We sold about 85% of the items on our garage sale.
Around noon I thought the pains seemed to be coming more frequently and decided to write down the times. They were now 5-7 minutes apart and were still lasting about 1 minute. By 3 p.m. they were consistently 5 minutes apart and lasting for one minute. This was the point in my labor when the midwives wanted me to call them. I did and she told me to get into the tub and relax with the theory that if I wasn't in real labor (I knew I was), the pains would slow down. Well, not only did they not slow down, they picked up, so by 6 p.m. they were 2 minutes apart and lasting for one minute.
By then, both my midwife and I realized that I had been in labor for 17 hours already and that I needed to try and keep eating (I couldn't) and drinking juice and water so that I didn't become exhausted. She asked if I wanted to come in and be checked. I did, because I was curious to know how I was progressing.
The worst part of my entire labor was the car ride to the birth center. Not being able to move around during the pains was not pleasant. We got there around 7 p.m. and the midwife checked me. I was so bummed to find out that I was only 2-3 cm. dilated, and that she expected me to be in labor for another 8 hours or so. I knew I could do it, but I was really tired at that time. On the bright side both the birth attendants and the midwife that I really liked were on call that evening. They filled the hot tub for me and I got in.
This is the point where I really begin to lose track of time. While in the hot tub I began to get the urge to push. I knew it was way too early, so I got out and assumed my favorite position during labor, i.e. standing next to the bed or a chair and bending over it while swaying my hips back and forth. Suddenly I felt like I was going to throw-up. And, I did. Three times. I felt so bad for the midwife and the attendants who had to clean up the mess, but oh well. Birth is a messy endeavor.
I got back in the hot tub and again felt an overwhelming urge to push. The midwife asked me if I wanted to be checked again and I said sure. I had thoughts running through my head that I couldn't do it any more and that I was too tired to go on. (The funny thing is, is that I learned during my childbirth classes that vomiting and feeling like I can't go on were signs of transition, but at the moment all I knew was that I was tired!) When the midwife checked me at 11:30 p.m. (only 4 hours after her initial examination!) she told me that I was at 10 cm. and could begin pushing.
That was both exciting and scary. Throughout my pregnancy I had thought that the labor part would be hard and that pushing would be easy. WRONG. Labor was very do-able, but pushing was so hard for me. It took an hour and a half to push Blake out (normal for first time moms, but disappointing for me). During the whole pushing time, I used the excitement in my husband's voice to give just a little bit more than I had left.
My little cone-headed baby was born at 12:54 a.m. on Sunday April 14th. He weighed seven pounds, ten ounces and was twenty and three quarters inches long. At his 10-day check-up he had grown an inch and weighed eight pounds, four ounces. I am totally in love with Blake and cannot imagine life without him. I love him more than I could ever imagine loving anyone. It goes without saying (but I will anyway) that he is a champion eater.


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Youngstown, Ohio
North Dakota State cornerback Marcus Williams was spotted with a group of teammates in the Steak 'n Shake near the Bison's hotel in Boardman, Ohio, on Friday evening. There was a noticeable hitch in Marcus' giddyup because of an injured right knee, which appeared to be supported by a good-sized brace.
One could have concluded the All-America defensive back was not going to play Saturday against Youngstown state in a game that might decide the Missouri Valley Football Conference. Word behind the scenes was exactly that -- a strained ligament in his right knee was going to keep Williams from playing.
Jordan Champion (photo courtesy NDSU)
Williams' unavailability was confirmed Saturday when he was not on the field on NDSU's first defensive series against Youngstown State.
So this was disaster, right? This was just what the Bison didn't need, right? Combined with the season-ending knee injury to linebacker Grant Olson one week earlier, this was too much for NDSU to overcome, right?
Not exactly.
Even without two top-flight starters, and with a couple of other regulars slowed by injury, the No. 1-ranked Bison rolled past the Penguins 35-17 to clinch their third straight conference title and all but assure themselves home-field advantage throughout the Football Championship Subdivision playoffs.
Remember the doomsday predictions last week when Olson and Williams were injured? Not so much.
The machine rolls on.
Youngstown State came into the game as the top offensive team in the league, averaging 37.5 points and 429 yards. The Penguins left Stambaugh Stadium tying their lowest points output of the season.
"It says a lot (about the Bison defense)," Bison coach Craig Bohl said. "They have great belief in one another. They work really hard during fall camp. We do extra work. We call it double-repping and a lot of what you we do, sometimes you think it is all for naught. But what it does is prepare some of these younger guys for a situation like this. We've got a lot of depth."
With Olson gone for the season and his career, the Bison moved strong-side linebacker Carlton Littlejohn to the middle and slid junior Esley Thornton into Littlejohn's spot.
Littlejohn responded with seven tackles and forced a fumble when he stripped Youngstown backup quarterback Dante Nania early in the second half. That led to a Bison touchdown and a 21-10 lead.
Sophomore Jordan Champion replaced Williams at cornerback and led the Bison with eight tackles.
"We don't worry about who is playing, we just worry about getting it done," NDSU defensive end Cole Jirik said.
It wasn't all smooth. The Bison allowed 302 yards, only the fourth time in 10 games they've given up 300-plus yards. And Youngstown did put together a couple of long, time-consuming drives. But overall, considering the Bison were missing their leading tackler (Olson) and a player likely destined for the NFL (Williams), it was pretty good.
Carlton Littlejohn
"When someone goes down, it's adversity and it's up to somebody else to step up," NDSU defensive end Kyle Emanuel said. "That's what we do. When one guy goes down, another steps up and we go forward."
Youngstown had its own issues. Starting quarterback Kurt Hess, in the midst of an efficient senior season, was questionable before the game with a high ankle sprain. He lasted two series before giving way to Dante Nania. The second-stringer was knocked out in the third quarter after suffering a shoulder injury. Hess tried to return, but lasted just one more series. The Penguins went with redshirt freshman third-stringer Tanner Garry the rest of the way.
Remember last week, when some Fargo media and fans seemed ready to jump head-first off the top of the Fargodome because Olson blew out his knee and Williams was on crutches? That doom-gloom scenario didn't quite come true.
Instead, the Bison won a third straight conference title in the roughest, toughest FCS league in the land.
"It's really hard to do. This league is a tough league. We found that out when we first got into. We kind of got taken to the woodshed and had to learn how to adjust the conference," Bohl said.
It's all about defense and depth, two things on which this Bison club thrives.
(Mike McFeely is a talk-show host on KFGO-AM in Fargo, N.D. He can be reached at email@example.com. Follow him on Twitter @MikeMcFeelyKFGO.)


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Former Saudi intelligence chief Prince Turki al-Faisal said this week that Saudi Arabia would consider building nuclear weapons to counter threats from a potentially nuclear armed Iran, and Israel, which is widely assumed to already have nuclear weapons. "If our efforts, and the efforts of the world community, fail to convince Israel to shed its weapons of mass destruction and to prevent Iran from obtaining similar weapons, we must, as a duty to our country and people, look into all options we are given, including obtaining these weapons ourselves," he told a conference in Riyadh on Monday.
Fmr Saudi Intel Chief: It Is 'Our Duty' To Consider Obtaining Nuclear Weapons
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- R Vishnu prasad
- Chennai , Tamil Nadu
- India
Electrical and Electronics Engineering student, International Community for Electrical Research & Development
This conversation is closed.
What caused the big-bang ???
Everyone know that the formation of universe is by the big-bang theory and the process of this explosion happened within few minutes.Till date the exact reason has not found which lead to this huge explosion .Please give your ideas and lets come to a conclusion .....
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Hialeah Gardens, FL -- (ReleaseWire) -- 07/10/2014 -- Trilostane is a drug used to treat dogs with Cushing's Disease, a disease where too much cortisone is produced, due to a tumor in the pituitary that results in excess secretion of the hormone from the adrenal glands. This type of tumor occurs in dogs more often than cats and trilostane does not work as well in cats. It also treats horses that have Cushings. It works by suppressing some of the processes in the adrenal gland that form the steroids.
Alopecia X, hormone-based hair loss, in Pomeranians and miniature poodles is also treated with this drug. Trilostane replaced mitotane which killed certain areas of the adrenal gland to reduce cortisone production. Trilostane lowers the amount of cortisone and aldosterone, another hormone produced by the adrenal gland.
Animals who respond to the drug will no longer eat, drink and urinate as often as they did prior to treatment. Their activity levels should go up and the condition of their hair coat and skin should improve. The side effects of trilostane include elevated blood levels of potassium, nitrogen waste products, bilirubin and calcium. The drug should only block glucocorticoid production but by may also block production of mineralocorticoids which can lead to lower levels of sodium and potassium in the blood, dehydration and weakness. Because it usually increases potassium, drugs that help the body retain it should be avoided.
About Allvetmed (Best Priced Vet Vipps authorize Online Pet Pharmacy)
Allvetmed is one of the main 17 Online Pet Pharmacies in the nation. We are authorized Nationwide managing us the capacity to ship Pet Medication Nationally. We offer the Best Pricing in the Business on Pet Medications.


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Her name is Valeria Lukyanova. Saw her profiled on the news the other day.
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Happy New Year
Goodman & Giannavola Structural Engineers, LLC (GGSE) is formed by Bob Goodman and Mike Giannavola. Bob and Mike look forward to providing our clients with the quality and service they are used to under the newest full service structural engineering company, GGSE, in Atlanta.
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Llangwm News
April / May
New for the Llangwm Website
We have introduced a new page for the Llangwm Website and this is the Llangwm Newsletter. Simply clisc on the Llangwm News button in the left hand column and you will be able to select the newsletter that you want to read.
Friday Night is Music Nite-31st Jan at 8.30pm
Nick Thomas
Make a regular appointment to visit Llangwm's Rugby & Social Club on the last Friday of each month, where you will be entertained by the best musical acts in the area. Music starts at 8.30p.m. - come early!
Admission Members & Signed in guests £5.00
by ticket or payable on the door
Coming 28th February - Honey Fungus
Are there any women darts players out there?
Nikki Bosworth's Darts team is looking for new recruits. They play in the Haverfordwest league on Thursday evenings at The Railway in Johnston, but they may be moving, possibly to Llangwm. Experience is not necessary, but training will be given as well as transport when required.
Contact Nikki on firstname.lastname@example.com
The Llangwm Local History Society
The World War One project is getting underway with the music and script coming together for the Musical play that Heritage Lottery are funding. Work is also progressing well on the exhibition Llangwm, a Village at War. If you have any stories to tell about your family's involvement in the 1914 - 1918 conflict, please contact Liz Jones or Jane Mills at this email address:
Heritage Llangwm
The Heritage Llangwm team was awarded a Stage 1 Heritage (Development) Grant in December to start on the renovation work at St. Jerome's Church. The project will also involve volunteers from the community in both documentary and archaeological research. There is a new Website called Heritage Llangwm This will keep you up with research and progress as the work gets underway. If you'd like to get involved in the project, please use the email at the botton of this web page:
The Llangwm Blog
We are still looking for new bloggers for Llangwm's Blog Page, So volunteers please - about 500 words would be brilliant.
Llangwm Gallery
We have a new contributor to the Llangwm Gallery. She is Emma Wilson and she has sent in two views of Black Tar. Click to go to Gallery page.
The idea of the Llangwm Gallery is to promote pictures taken by members of the Llangwm community. If you have any to exhibit, get in touch with the Web Master.
Llangwm Gardening Club
Gardening Club meetings are usually the first Monday of the month and at the Cottage Inn, watch out for the posters round the village.
Please keep and eye on the Clubs & Societies web page.
Llangwm's on Facebook!
That's right... Llangwm has its own facebook page. simply click:
All the content on Llangwm's Facebook page is public. It's well worth a visit.
Web Editor's Rant
Help this village enter the 21st Century... Email the Webmaster with information of your upcoming events or call Pam Hunt on 01437 899966 and the event will be promoted on the site. Remember that this site gets around 150 hits a week!
Finally, I've been doing the Llangwm Website for the last four years and I am looking for someone to take over as I am going to have a very busy year ahead of me and I fear that updating this one will be a very low priority for me. So if you'd like to take over, please contact me on the Webmaster email.


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Whats this all about?
There are a load of places on the internet that give partial solutions to this common problem: XA Transactions, outside an application container. Here's an attempt to put them all in one place.
This uses the following technologies.
- Oracle
- Bitronix Transaction Manager
- Spring
Selecting the correct oracle drivers
You will need to use the 126.96.36.199.0 11g drivers. These are suitable for previous versions of oracle.
Previous 10.x version of the drivers have a connetion/resource leak which will bite when you use XA.
Configuring Oracle for XA Transactions
Oracle out-of-the-box does not come configured suitable for XA transactions. You need to run the following as a SYS user.
Setting up the transaction manager
Setting up the data source
Actually that's it.
The "allowLocalTransactions" setting means that you can do stuff outside a global transaction. This isn't really recommended, but will work.
Using all this inside tests.
You must remember to destroy your application context each time you create it. Otherwise the transaction manager will grumble at being created multiple times.


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This is our newly updated list of the best online casinos for slots. The casinos listed here give a great selection of games to enjoy and importantly, all of them have a reputation for fair play and world-class customer service.
As you will have noticed, there are not many casinos listed. We prefer to list just the best out there, rather than hundreds of casinos. If you are looking to play online slots for real money, you might find this page useful.
Firstly, it's worth mentioning straight away that the casino slots brands that most players have experienced in Las Vegas are NOT yet available to play online if you live in certain countries. These include slots you find associated with casino brands like MGM, Harrah's, Wynn etc. At this point in time, the only country offering the full selection of games online is the UK.
Secondly, the games that people love from those Vegas casino are also not yet available for US players to play online yet . These slot brands include games like Wolf Run, Cleopatra and Wizard of Oz
In Vegas casinos, there are some really big brands of slots (IGT, WMS, Konami, Aristocrat and Bally) and a number of smaller ones to choose from. In Vegas, you can play all these brands under one roof in your casino
The situation online is very similar in that there are a few really big online slot producers and quite a few smaller ones. One big difference between playing online and in a Vegas casino is that when you play online you don't get to play all the slots under one roof.
Hopefully, in the near future, companies like IGT (Wheel of Fortune, Cleopatra, Wolf Run) and WMS (Monopoly, Wizard of Oz, Top Gun) will enter the US market, so we can play these classics that we know and love from the land-based casinos.


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Join the 'Sylatron' group to help and get support from people like you.
Sylatron Support Group
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Clip Job: an excerpt every day from the Voice archivesJanuary 10, 1963, Vol. VIII, No. 12The Greenwich Village ScholarshipBy John WilcockLetters from girls as far away as Eugene, Oregon, and Valparaiso, Indiana, brought applications for the Greenwich Village Scholarship -- a weekend in the Village a ... More >>
Top Pentagon lawyer Alberto Mora risked his career arguing against Guantánamo abuses. Now hes an Obama man.


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Home > Products > Living Room > Sofas > Martinsburg - Meadow - Sofa
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The "Martinsburg-Meadow" upholstery collection brings rich traditional beauty to life with the flowing design surrounded by the soft feel of the light-toned upholstery fabric elegantly accented with the rich finished showood adorning this classic furniture.
Frame constructions have been tested with various equipment to simulate the home and transportation environments to insure durability. Corners are glued, blocked and stapled. Seats and back spring rails are cut from 7/8" hardwood. Stripes and patterns are match cut. All fabrics are pre-approved for wearability and durability against AHFA standards. Cushion cores are constructed of low melt fiber wrapped over high quality foam.
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it's one of those grey mornings when I can pretend like the world doesn't know I'm awake yet. So I'll hide in my room for a while with a book and my guitar. and I'll try and make this last as long as possible.
I haven't written in a while. Mostly because of business or x number of other excuses I could conjure up. I do however have a very irritating twitch in my lower left eye-lid which I tried to calm by breathing heavily. no luck.
I'm coming back to a place of need. For expression, on the one hand. For union, on the other. So often though these things are at odds with each other. Let me explain (as best I can from the seat of my unreasonable sense of reason).
Artistic expression as I experience it seems to be like most things in this life—an offensive contradiction. Artists usually get pegged for suffering from what I guess we'll call an insatiable need to communicate or express. My dear friend mr. Orillion said something to the effect that artists are "constantly de-constructing reality as they see it" and I can't disagree. I would also add that I am often trying to re-assemble that which I deconstruct for my own life's understanding. Call me a weird-o, but that's why I actually enjoy judgment. Take me apart sometimes PLEASE, so we can go over the parts that need some adjustment or replacement. Then put me back together. I'm guaranteed to function better as a living breathing thinking human being. I'm guaranteed to love more deeply. I'm probably going to break down less with some regular maintenance and defragging. See I just did it again.
K whatever. What I'm trying to say is that I can barely separate myself from these eyes that are constantly observing and processing and trying to synthesize things that are going on around me. Today we celebrated memorial day. I know that because it says so on most standard-issue calendars, because either "Band of Brothers" or some history program is on several channels commemorating our lost brothers and sisters in combat, and because streets are often lined with flags of our fathers, and most people enjoyed a day off to spend time with friends and family. But then I start to deconstruct wars, how we celebrate our fallen patriots, the way we life in relative freedom under the stars and stripes that have for so long represented something great in our noble system of governance, community, and participation in democracy. Then I am consumed with moral implications of war, my own sense of non-violence, coupled with the patriotic call to serve, the fear of being strapped in by a utility belt and carry an assault rifle. Etcetera. It usually doesn't end here, but I'll spare myself.
Anyways, I'm realizing more and more how often I recede and just watch or observe things. I am and how bloody loud the voices in my head are. How much I talk to myself, narrate things, describe, churn and regurgitate. It's frightening. This is inherently lonely. The moment when a brush hits the canvas my presence of mind enters another playing field and I am consumed by the communication of one image and one image alone. If it's a song idea, my mind can readily assume cruise control over the random little actions it takes to drive a car while my mind is creating phrases, rhymes, hooks, etc. And before you know it I'm scribbling on my forearm because I can't wait for the next available piece of paper. But this all takes place in reaction to a world that I'm not necessarily participating in at the moment.
But what an artist wants more than that moment of creation, maybe even more than the entire process of creation, (which as I said is inherently lonely) is an audience with which to share, respond, and evoke an emotion. Otherwise it remains a relatively static piece of irrelevance that I can only retrace in memory for having created it. The need for expression, while breeding isolation and internalization of subject/object x, is met with the need for some communion. It's like a priest celebrating mass by himself. It doesn't make sense and it's not Eucharist, unless there is a congregation to participate and enter into that communion. So while I am cognizant of my eternal desire to express (if only for my own sake), I'm not sure of how aware I am of my need to be received by someone else. Double-edged sword in some ways.
My heart is dying to be heard, most of the time. Even when all I want is to be alone and process, it's only because it's safer and i can keep things to myself.
I process things here in my bed on the keyboard of this laptop after an evening of prayer and some music alone. But it's an online blog that everyone has the potential to see and provides an avenue to share some of my inner confusion and so on. SO it's not all that personal. Probably most of anyone reading this would understand what I'm talking about, to some degree or another. And I arrive again at the odd counter-posed need to be alone, and the crying desire to be heard.
But alas, I am stuck with me.


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Contact Information
waterboro area bidderford, Maine 02191
781-812-3036 [email protected]
Looking to make a move to maine 30 years experience in massachusetts in hvac have license in ma, universal epa. Have experience in chillers, rooftop,s split systems. Attended factory training on Lochinvar Knight boilers and Intellifin boilers. Training on Mitsubishi city multi units and ther 2 day mr slim course. have good work ethics on time willing to work extra hours. Also refrigeration experience Looking for year round work. If more info needed please feel free to contact been 30 years since a resume will consider inside work supply houses. Thank Tim


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Book Description:A baffled youngster awakens one morning to find everything's out of place, but no one seems to notice! Beginning readers will have fun discovering all the wacky things wrong on each page while sharpening their ability to observe, as well as to read.
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Early Preservation Efforts
Shortly past noon on Thursday, March 15, 1781, a fierce two-hour battle broke out around the hamlet called Guilford Court House, seat of government for eighteenth-century Guilford County, North Carolina. [1] The keystone of the Revolutionary War's decisive Southern Campaign and the only engagement in which the campaign's principal antagonists, American Major General Nathanael Greene and British commander Lord Charles, Second Earl Cornwallis, were present and directing events, Guilford Courthouse was a Pyhrric victory for the redcoats. So costly was this "triumph" that Cornwallis's troops could neither pursue the defeated rebels nor remain in North Carolina as an army of occupation. After two days spent caring for the wounded and burying the dead, the nominal victors turned their backs on the doleful field of Guilford Courthouse and marched away on the first leg of the journey that would lead them to final defeat at Yorktown, an outcome fore-shadowed by the serious loss of British manpower suffered seven months earlier at Guilford Courthouse. [2]
For a brief period following the battle local residents left the area, complaining of foul odors and the presence of spirits moving about the battlefield. They gradually returned and began the process of expanding their subsistence farms by clearing the virgin forest that covered three-quarters of the battlefield's one thousand acres. [3] Technically the village of Guilford Courthouse ceased to exist in 1785 when the North Carolina General Assembly chartered the new community called "Martinville" at the old county seat. To the disappointment of Guilford County's first generation of land developers, Martinville failed to thrive. When the Court of Pleas and Quarter Sessions was moved to newly chartered Greensboro in 1809, Martinville began a half-century slide to extinction. [4]
The first local effort to commemorate the battle of Guilford Courthouse was initiated in 1857 when a group called the Greene Monument Association was organized and began fund-raising activities to erect a memorial to the American general in his namesake city. The Association's work was interrupted by the outbreak of civil war and interest in commemorating the glories of the Revolutionary generation was effectively deflected until the end of the Reconstruction period. [5]
1876 was a watershed year in that it combined the centennial of the Declaration of Independence with the tainted presidential election of Rutherford B. Hayes. The withdrawal of the last Federal occupation troops from the South the following year inaugurated an era of national reconciliation. Patriotism and nationalism were on the ascendant in this period and widespread public support developed for the establishment of memorials to George Washington, the Revolutionary War generation and the principles for which they fought; principles that were the common heritage of both North and South.
First fruit of this impulse included centennial year Congressional appropriations of $244,000 to erect monuments at Yorktown, Bennington, Saratoga, Newburg, Cowpens, Monmouth, Groton, and Oriskany. Similar bills were introduced but not acted upon for Brandywine, Bemis Heights, King's Mountain, and Guilford Courthouse.
Further evidence of the nation's interest in commemorating the founding generation's struggles was manifested by the action of the House of Representatives' Committee on the Library in commissioning historian Benson J. Lossing to make recommendations regarding Revolutionary War sites that were deserving of monumentation. His report, submitted 2 February 1884, identified fifteen battlefields "of considerable note" that should receive funding for "substantial monuments." Guilford Courthouse was identified as one of these sites. A bill, H.R. 2475, to erect the recommended monuments was introduced but not acted upon. [6]
It was in this period of resurgent nationalism and reflection on America's past glories that business brought David Schenck to Greensboro. Born in Lincoln County, North Carolina in 1835, Schenck was a successful attorney and Superior Court judge. In 1881 he accepted the post of General Counsel of the Richmond and Danville Railroad. The demands of this position led him to remove his family to more centrally located Greensboro in May, 1882. Greensboro was described at this time as "awakening from a sleepy village to a more progressive town." Schenck aligned himself with progressive elements in his new hometown by actively campaigning for a successful 1887 bond issue that provided $100,000 for municipal improvements and winning election to the Board of Town Commissioners. [7] At about this time Schenck became interested in the battle of Guilford Courthouse.
Judge Schenck later wrote that when he came to town in 1882:
He persevered, however, and located the battlefield six miles north of Greensboro on the road to Madison. At that time it consisted of "a few wooded areas surrounded by abandoned and eroded fields covered with broom sedge and field pines." [8]
Schenck spent many weekends walking across the "abandoned and eroded fields" with a copy of his favorite reference on the battle of Guilford Courthouse, Reverend Eli Caruther's Interesting Revolutionary Incidents: And Sketches Of Character, Chiefly In The "Old North State" (Philadelphia: 1856). Carefully studying the maps in this volume Schenck was perfectly confident that he could identify all the major scenes of action in the battle. [9]
In October 1886, almost three years after Benson J. Lossing's report to Congress categorizing Guilford Courthouse as a Revolutionary War site "of considerable note", Judge Schenck had the flash of insight that would perpetually link his name with the effort to preserve this battlefield. He later described this event in his journal.
Resolving to act on this idea Schenck bought the first thirty acres of battlefield property at ten dollars per acre from farmer Emsley Sikes who, in Schenck's words, "owned all that part of the battle field south of the Salisbury or New Garden Road." Shortly thereafter he obtained an additional twenty acres north of the road from the "Dennis heirs" for twenty dollars per acre. With these purchases Schenck believed he controlled the position occupied by the American third line of battle, site of the heaviest fighting at Guilford Courthouse. Pleased though he was by these acquisitions, Schenck clearly felt victimized by the prices he was forced to pay for this land.
Although his railroad salary of $5000 per year, supplemented by occasional private retainers, provided comfortably for his growing family, Schenck clearly saw that he could not single handedly carry out his purpose to "redeem the battlefield from oblivion." [12] He then approached several Greensboro businessmen with the idea of establishing a non-profit corporation to preserve the battleground. Assured of their support, Schenck drew up a charter and with its approval by the North Carolina General Assembly in March 1887, the Guilford Battle Ground Company was born. At the company's organizational meeting held 6 May 1887, Schenck was elected president [13]
The company's charter authorized the issuance of one thousand shares of capital stock at twenty-five dollars per share to finance the purchase of as much as two hundred acres of the battlefield property. Advertisements that were distributed across the nation included a remarkably conservative estimate of two thousand dollars to purchase and restore the battlefield. [14]
The Guilford Battle Ground Company quickly went to work, in its first year spending almost three thousand dollars to acquire sixty-two acres of land (including Schenck's original fifty acres bought at his cost of seven hundred dollars) to erect a caretaker's cottage with reception room and museum, and to begin the long process of "beautification" of the grounds. [15] That year also saw the construction of the first monument erected on the battlefield, a granite marker donated by an area stoneworks to memorialize Captain Arthur Forbis, the most prominent local casualty of the battle of Guilford Courthouse. [16]
The Guilford Battle Ground Company's charter defined the organization's purpose as "preserving and adorning the grounds on and over which the battle of Guilford Court House was fought...." [17] In 1893 Judge Schenck reflected that at time of purchase, "[The battlefield] was a tangled wilderness of briars, old field pines, broom sedge and every species of wild growth which comes up on old worn out fields." The company undertook the task of site redemption by hiring a foreman and six laborers to cut the scrub pines, remove brush, plough the fields and plant a "luxuriant crop of oats." [18]
Judging by Schenck's words and the actions of the company under his leadership, beautification, or adornment, to use the term that appeared in the company's charter, was preservation. This view of preservation did not countenance the restoration of the battlefield to its rugged, largely wooded appearance of 1781. Rather it envisioned the transformation of the doleful field of battle into a lovely sort of "pleasuring ground", with monuments to the heroic dead, where grateful Americans could contemplate the glories of the nation's past amidst beautiful surroundings. Most notable of these battlefield beautification projects was the 1892 damming of a Hunting Creek tributary to form artificial Lake Wilfong between the American second and third lines "to improve the attractiveness of the grounds." Similar enhancement efforts led to the construction of two spring houses and a restaurant to accommodate the thousands of visitors who came to the site by train from nearby Greensboro to attend annual commemorations of the organization of the Guilford Battleground Company. [19]
It appears that no thought was given to the idea of preserving the whole battlefield. The Guilford Battle Ground Company charter, written by Schenck, countenanced the purchase of no more than two hundred acres of battlefield land. Whether this self-imposed limitation was a reflection of Schenck's preservation philosophy or was born of the disillusioning experience of negotiating with shrewd landowners, this policy essentially foreshadowed the Antietam Plan dictum of preservation by purchase of key sites. With limited financial resources and lacking the power of eminent domain, this was perhaps the best the Battle Ground Company could do. It had an unfortunate consequence, however, in that the interpretation of the battle was made to fit the company's land holdings rather than an objective test of historical accuracy. Specifically the location of the American third battleline was shifted almost a quarter-mile west from its true location within sight of the courthouse to a site that was encompassed within Schenck's original fifty-acre land purchase. This misrepresentation affects interpretation of the final stage of the battle of Guilford Courthouse to this day. [20]
At about this time Schenck proposed that the Guilford Battle Ground should be designated as North Carolina's official Revolutionary War cemetery. The General Assembly never acted upon this proposal, but Schenck was able to convince the descendents of several of North Carolina's notable revolutionaries to remove their ancestors' remains to the Battle Ground. Among those reinterred were the remains of North Carolina signers of the Declaration of Independence William Hooper and John Penn, and Continental Brigadier General Jethro Sumner. None of these luminaries had served at Guilford Courthouse. In this way an unfortunate precedent was set whereby the park was viewed as an acceptable venue for the commemoration of a variety of individuals and events having no discernible connection to the battle of Guilford Courthouse. [21]
By the early 1890s the Battle Ground Company had expended most of its capital. Although the company's charter called for the sale of one thousand shares of capital stock, less than twenty per cent of this total was actually sold. [22] Clearly some other revenue source was required. To this end Schenck lobbied the General Assembly for a bond issue to support the park. Instead the first of a series of annual appropriations in the amount of two hundred dollars, restricted to "improvement and preservation of the grounds," was enacted. Sixty per cent of this sum was expended as salary for a grounds keeper, leaving only the eighty dollar balance for improvements. Shortfalls were generally eliminated by appeals to the stockholders, but it was clear that the Guilford Battle Ground Company could not perpetually preserve the battlefield without governmental assistance. [23]
Judge Schenck had apparently foreseen this eventuality. As early as July 1887 he had noted in his journal that the battlefield should be offered to the United States Government after it had been restored and marked. [24] In making this judgment he anticipated by three years the creation of the first National Military Park, Chickamauga-Chattanooga, in 1890.
The process of federalization of the Guilford Courthouse battlefield was lengthy, requiring thirty years from the date Schenck broached the idea in his journal. Initial delay resulted from the local determination to first mark the site. Schenck and Company made no effort to mark the field with anything like the cast-iron interpretive signs that typified the early National Military Parks. Clearly monuments were the order of the day. By the time of Judge Schenck's death in 1902 sixteen monuments, most funded by private donations, had been raised on the battlefield.
The following year Guilford received its first infusion of Federal funds when Congress appropriated ten thousand dollars to erect a pair of Romanesque arches in memory of slain North Carolina generals Francis Nash and William Lee Davidson. It is tempting to interpret this action as a sort of tacit Federal recognition of the legitimacy of the Battle Ground Company's efforts. It was nothing of the kind. Congress appropriated the funds but left the task of site selection to Governor Charles B. Aycock. A spirited lobbying campaign followed with several communities making bids for one or both monuments. In the end, Governor Aycock designated Guilford Battle Ground as the site for both structures even though at least two other cities offered more plausible thematic rationales, and in spite of the fact that both Nash and Davidson were killed prior to Guilford Courthouse. Aycock's decision indicates how clearly the Guilford Battle Ground Company had succeeded in establishing their park's claim as the state's single Revolutionary War shrine. Emboldened by this success, in 1904 the Company launched its effort to make Guilford Battle Ground a National Military Park. [25]
In 1901 Joseph Morehead, vice president of the Guilford Battle Ground Company, noted that a group of Pennsylvania residents were meeting resistance in their efforts to have the United States take possession of the Valley Forge encampment site because Congress was unwilling to provide necessary funding. Perhaps a bit smugly Morehead reflected that such difficulties would not arise out of the transfer of Guilford Battle Ground because the North Carolina site would be "freely tendered the general government upon the sole condition that it shall be preserved as a National Park forever." [26] Morehead, who succeeded to the presidency of the Battle Ground Company on Judge Schenck's death in 1902, was overly optimistic.
Between 1901 and 1904 Congress was inundated with thirty-four bills to create twenty-three national parks in nine states and the District of Columbia. Concern about the ultimate cost of these proposals led the House Committee on Military Affairs to hold hearings in April 1902. One outcome of these hearings was the promulgation of the "Antietam Plan," the notion that fragments of historic sites could be preserved to successfully interpret battles and other memorable places and events at minimal costs. The other significant outgrowth of these hearings was the introduction of H.R. 14351 to create a "national military park commission. . . to restore, preserve, mark and maintain. . . such battlefields, forts, cemeteries, or parts thereof. . ." from all of America's wars, "and to establish military parks thereon." This bill proved to be controversial and was never acted upon; but it was introduced in 1902, and reintroduced in 1903, 1904, 1905, 1906 and 1910. With Congressional attention focused on this proposal for almost a decade, followed shortly by America's entry into World War I, special acts to establish national military parks were essentially suspended. [27]
The first attempt to transform the Guilford Battle Ground into a national park came in the first year of this interregnum. In 1904, North Carolina Congressman W.W. Kitchin, at Joseph Morehead's behest, introduced a bill to establish Guilford Courthouse National Military Park. It was not acted upon, nor were similar bills introduced in 1905 and 1907. [28]
Stymied, the Battle Ground Company and its legislative advocates decided to assume another line of attack. Between 1888 and 1908 thirteen bills were introduced in Congress to erect a monument to Major General Nathanael Greene at the Guilford Battle Ground. None were enacted. In 1910 Joseph Morehead prevailed upon Senator Lee S. Overman to introduce another Greene monument bill. This bill passed and was signed into law 13 February 1911. This act provided thirty thousand dollars to erect a suitable monument at the Guilford Battle Ground, provided the Battle Ground Company would deed to the United States sufficient land on which to erect the memorial. This was done and on 3 July 1915 the Nathanael Greene Monument was dedicated. [29]
National Park Service Historian Ronald F. Lee, in his seminal work The Origin and Evolution of the National Military Park Idea (p.45), identifies the passage of the Greene Monument bill as the first step in the creation of Guilford Courthouse National Military Park. The third of an acre donated for this heroic equestrian memorial provided a Federal toehold and perhaps inclined Congress to respond favorably when Representative Charles M. Stedman introduced another bill to establish Guilford Courthouse National Military Park. Signed into law 2 March 1917, this act provided:
Guilford Courthouse, by this time grown to one hundred twenty five acres marked with twenty-eight monuments and graves, was the first Revolutionary War battlefield preserved as a national park. It was the only national military park created in the period 1900-1925. It was apparently the only site offered to the Government at no cost. It took longer than either expected, but at last David Schenck's dream and Joseph Morehead's prediction had come true.
Last Updated: 10-Feb-2003


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the sound of rolling lonely.
obicham te.
21/9/2011 @ 15:58
I have a new account.
I guess I've been meaning to do this for awhile, but I have a new account, guys.
I still keep getting followers on this one, though it's an in-active blog.
The new one is about the same with a bit more personality of mine scattered to and fro.
A Buddhist priest prays for the souls of the victims still not found in the rubble, Yamada, Japan.
(Source: kateoplis, via thetruthisone-deactivated201203)
your blog is lovely. nice to see something that isnt like everyone elses x
Thank you very much. (:
21/3/2011 @ 21:00
asked by flapjacksblog2
What is your favorite Cartoon Network show?
Oh gosh. I'd have to say that I really don't watch much Cartoon Network these days, but Courage the Cowardly Dog was my show.


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Introducing BigBikeAds - A crowd advertising idea that's not so crazy!
Love riding your bike? Is it a passion? Don't you feel "free" when you ride? We believe that riding your bike is the best thing you can do for yourself and your environment. So, why does no one reward you for biking to work, or risking your life to visit your friends? And what's up with the discounts only for buying something when you ride your bike to get to their store, restaurant, or whatever? Why does nobody make riding your bike more rewarding? Well, we have an idea. An exciting and challenging idea. An idea that cannot be copyrighted and trademarked. It's an idea to change people's behavior. An idea where the benefit is to you by supporting an advertiser that is a carefully selected "ethical, local, green" company, with a great product or service (and basically has zero ad budget), and you the bike rider get to help the causes that really matter to you! And without having to buy something! How does that sound?
So get this… your bike is constantly in the public's eye when you lock it up. Sometimes it will just sit the for hours on end, and people will mosey on by sometimes stopping to admire your bike. How do we know this? Just on Tumblr alone there are tons of "Bike" pics tagged and plenty of them are just parked and locked up. Which is perfect for advertising. That's BigBikeAds. We founded bikebike this year to make a difference. We started this to become the Chasm Crossing agency (and help the little guys win some for once). Many of us love our smartphones and apps, and games like angry birds, but before all that was hot, the bike was king. And we at bigbike believe that advertising can be a much better experience than it is today. And rewards came be better than just buying something. Ad what about the ads? YES - the don't have to be all just ugly qr codes and 99 cent specials… They can be art again! Highly creative and nourishing! With you help advertising can be fun again! So we need all the pro "ethical, local, green" bike riders in every major city and beyond to come together in this grand experiment to transform "biking" for you into an extra rewarding experience.
We still have a lot of work to do. We have a lot of rewards to invent. We have a lot of people out there we need to reach in order to truly make a difference. But we won't stop until you simply love BigBikeAds.
If you like our idea, please contact us @bigbikegroup!
And also let us know of companies we should support. Thx & wish us luck! We're on our fourth cup of coffee when we wrote this! Pls "reblog" this post, too!