Monday, December 17, 2007

Pure Unconditional Love

A Baby's Hug

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' He pounded his chubby baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.

We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. 'Hi there, baby; you’re a big boy. I see ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?'
Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.'

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, 'Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.'

Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed.

As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.

Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.

I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, 'You take care of this baby.'

Somehow I managed, 'I will,' from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, 'God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift.'

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.'

I had just witnessed unconditional love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment?' when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, 'To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.'

Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. We must always remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The clothes on your back or the car that you drive or the house that you live in does not define you at all; it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Butt Cheek Bandits Terrorizing Kearney, Nebraska

Apparently a vandal or vandals have been terrorizing the town of Kearney, Nebraska (pop. 27,431) by leaving Vaseline ass prints on the windows of local businesses. Over twenty sites have been hit on this ass print crime spree that started last May. My favorite line of the article is “there may have been copycat printings”. Really, “may have been”? Don’t they have a crack C.S.I. squad out there in Kearney that can determine if we are talking about one ass print or multiple ass prints?

At least that’s what folks in Valentine hope after someone slathered his bare backside — and front side — with Vaseline, then left prints on windows of businesses, schools and churches. The local Midland News newspaper called the vandal or vandals “lewd, lubricated, lurching lunatics.”

“It’s just a weird deal, but it’s weird enough to cause a little bit of concern,” said Valentine Police Chief Ben McBride. “Who in their right mind would do something like that?” McBride has fielded about 20 reports.

“I don’t know what kind of people it takes to do that,” Nollett said. “Someone with a weird sense of humor, I guess.” The wrongdoing is more disgusting than destructive. There has been no physical damage, although producing the printings would involve indecent exposure.

Maybe I have a “weird sense of humor” but I think this is friggin’ hilarious. How much beer to do you have to drink and how bored do you have to be to realize it would be pretty funny to cover your ass in Vaseline and leave ass prints around town? I am guessing at least 15 beers.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Black Friday...Let's go shopping!!!

I haven’t yet decided if I’ll be going out on BLACK FRIDAY, but I’m seriously considering doing so. You know the day I’m talking about, the day after we fill our stomachs so full of food that we feel as if we are going to split open at the seams if we dare to bend down and pick up something. Thanksgiving is a time when we think of family, getting together, and good old fashion FOOD. It is a great time to see family members that we don’t other wise see very often, or haven’t seen in years, and to just hang out with friends. This year I’ll be doing both. First, I’ll be spending most of the day with family that I haven’t seen since last Thanksgiving, and then for the following weekend I’ll be cooking for some friends coming to my house.

Between these two glorious feasts, and stuffing myself until I feel like I want to explode, the day after Thanksgiving, I’ll be spending sometime walking off Grandma’s homemade hot rolls, turkey, stuffing and gravy early in the morning at Wal-Mart. Then it’s off to the mall for a little more shopping.

Now I am never excited about waking up at 4 am the day after a holiday when I’ve stuffed myself like a turkey, but I always managed to go out for a couple hours, sometimes more, just to find that right a price that I feel is acceptable. Sometimes making your way through the crowds can be one of the most strenuous workouts that you will ever have. But, by the time I down a couple cups of French Vanilla coffee, I feel wired enough to walk off those 5 pounds I feel like I put on the day before, and make my way through the toughest of crowds without getting shoved to the side. I think the reason I love to go, is the thrill of trying to find a good deal, plus I just like shopping.

Here are some tips that I follow to make sure I have a great day.

(1) Get there early! If you are like me and stay up late anyway, you might as well forgo sleep and hit the stores (especially Wal-Mart) around 3 am. If you don’t others will have already filled their carts with the sale items before the sale even starts…leaving you with nothing.

(2) Make a plan. Decide before you get to the store, what you are planning to purchase. What is the most important thing you are looking to buy? Plan to make that your first stop.

(3) Have fun, and don’t let yourself get overwhelmed. Remember everyone is there looking to get themselves a deal.

(4) Number 4 is important…Please remember to watch your purse or wallet! There are many more people out at this time of the year shopping, but there are some, who are shopping for your cash. Never turn your back on your purse sitting in your shopping cart. A thief can grab your purse, and be gone in less than 5 seconds.

Have fun on Black Friday!!! Let’s go shopping!!!

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Daddy Hurt Me...A true Story

From: MsPsycho
From: *PEACE*
From: Kellee
Date: Nov 3, 2007 8:04 AM



My name is Chris

I am three,

My eyes are swollen

I cannot see,

I must be stupid

I must be bad,

What else could have made

My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better

I wish I weren't ugly,

Then maybe my mommy

Would still want to hug me.

I cant do a wrong

I cant speak at all

Or else im locked up

All day long.

When im awake im all alone

The house is dark

My folks arent home

When my mommy does come home

I'll try and be nice,

So maybe ill just get

One whipping tonight.

I just heard a car

My daddy is back

From Chariles bar

I hear him curse

My name is called

I press myself

Against the wall

I try to hide

From his evil eyes

Im so afraid now

I'm starting to cry

He finds me weeping

Calls me ugly words,

He says its my fault

He suffers at work

He slaps and hits me

And yells at me more,

I finally get free

And run to the door

Hes already locked it

And I start to bawl,

He takes me and throws me

Against the hard wall

I fall to the floor

With my bones nearly broken,

And my daddy continues

With more bad words spoken,

"Im sorry!", I scream

But its now much to late

His face has been twisted

Into a unimaginable shape

The hurt and the pain

Again and again

O please God, have mercy!

O please let it end!

And he finally stops

And heads for the door

While I lay there motionless

Sprawled on the floor

My name is Chris

I am three,

Tonight my daddy

Murdered me

And you can help

Sickens me to the soul,

And if you read this

and don't pass it on

I pray for your forgivness

Because you would have to be

One heartless person

To not be affected

By this Poem

And because U R affected,

Do something about it!

So all i ask you to do

Is pass this on!



Wednesday, October 24, 2007

How to Make Cooked Pumpkin Seeds, And Make Pumpkin Bread

My two boys (now 14 and 17) still look forward to these every year. They are a low calorie, tasty treat, and very easy for kids to make. If they are cooked until golden brown, they become crunchy enough to just pop in your mouth and chew them up.

Cooked Pumpkin Seeds

Cut into tops of fresh pumpkins and pull out seeds. Separate membranes from seeds as best you can, then rinse in colander under cold running water to remove last shreds. Toss in colander to shake off water and blot with paper towels to dry seeds.

Melt approx. 2 tablespoons of butter or olive oil in a pan on the stove
Pour cleaned pumpkin seeds in pan.
Sprinkle with amount of salt desired.
Cook, stirring occasionally until golden brown.
Dump onto paper towels to let cool.

If you prefer you can place them in the oven.
Heat oven to 350 degrees

• 1½ cups of fresh pumpkin seeds.
• Melted butter or olive oil (around 1 tablespoon)
• Salt

Line a rimmed baking sheet with heavy-duty foil. Spread seeds evenly on sheet. Drizzle with melted butter or olive oil, tossing to coat evenly. Sprinkle lightly with salt. Bake 35-45 minutes until golden brown, stirring from time to time.

Pumpkin Bread Recipe

• 1/3 cup vegetable oil
• ½ tsp ground cloves
• 1 cup fresh or canned pumpkin puree
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup flour
• 2 tsps ground cinnamon
• ½ cup raisins
• 2 1/3 cups Bisquick
• pinch of ground nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease 9x5-inch loaf pan. Mix all ingredients together with wooden spoon. Pour into prepared pan. Bake for 45 minutes. Test with knife, if the knife comes out clean the bread is done. If it is not done put back in oven for 10 minutes. Cool before removing from pan. Store in plastic bag.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

A Pic of my ONE-WEEK-OLD Puppies

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Well here is one pic...I'll try again tomorrow.

Monday, October 22, 2007

Why do we love puppies?

Why is it that those who don’t like dogs still like puppies?

Walking a large Lab/Pit Bull mixed dog is an interesting experience. I have two that I often walk through my neighborhood, and no matter how nice and friendly they are to me, most people see them as something to be feared. People are scared by pit bulls, some by large dogs, and others by all dogs. However, all that fear vanishes when they see you walking two 12-week-old puppies. The little happy-go-lucky guys suddenly become the center of attention. Apparently most people can’t help but love little puppies, even the type of dogs people tend to fear when they get bigger.

It seems our brains are what make us attracted to the little, innocent, creatures. After all, their large foreheads, and big, round eyes are reminiscent of human babies. Clearly, we’re predisposed to care for babies. We’re just a nurturing species. Our babies require a great deal of care for many years. When we see these cues, we can’t help but respond with a rush of a hormone called oxytocin. We generalize our feelings to other species--including dogs.

Unbelievably, that generalization in scientific parlance is called the ‘aw’ factor. We respond with lots of smiles, a softer and higher voice, and we tend to actually say ‘aw.’

Sometimes this same generalized attraction occurs when we see adult animals. With their big eyes, large, roundish heads, pronounced foreheads and fairly short snouts. Adult pandas elicit the same response that babies do. After all, they look like cuddly teddy bears.

It’s no coincidence that dogs look like they do. For thousands of years, we’ve played a role in their selection, and naturally, we select features that are most appealing to us. Many dogs were bred for a function such a herding sheep or to retrieve waterfowl, and their features reflect their jobs. However, other dogs were simply bred for our pleasure, and human baby-like features seem to be more evident in these breeds.

The King Charles spaniel as an example has many puppy features, even as adults. There is the soft expression and those big eyes. Many adult dogs of many breeds have a perpetual look of innocence, and that’s what’s most appealing.

For the most part, we have bred all dogs to retain puppy characteristics, like playfulness, throughout their lives. Dogs are one of an only few neotenous (retaining many child-like characteristics as adults) species on the planet. We find puppies so appealing that we want them to be puppies forever.

Still, there is more that is appealing about pups. Aside for those visual cues, they actually smell fresh, some of their whimpering sounds remind us of baby sounds, and that’s endearing to us. Also, puppies make us laugh – and of course laughter naturally feels good. We are all drawn to what makes us feel good.

However, if puppies do all these things for us and trigger an oxytocin burst that can’t be avoided, then why do some cultures treat puppies unkindly? I don’t think anyone knows. Biology is the same in everyone, so it must be that the culture around them can be a powerful force. Just as people who are afraid of adult dogs are unlikely to fear puppies, I would bet that young children not exposed to the cultural norms of those places not as friendly toward dogs, would find that puppies naturally charm them, but there’s no research on this area as far as I know.

Puppies certainly do charm us. It’s no coincidence that they are often used on TV and print ads. A cute puppy may help sell your product. In addition, of course puppies can do no wrong… well until they piddle on your carpet.


I was going to be posting pictures of my one-week-old puppies with this post, but it won't let my unload them for some reasons, so I'll try posting them later.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Getting Drunk Joke

From the county where drunk driving is considered a sport, comes this true story. Recently a routine police patrol parked outside a bar in Tulsa, Oklahoma after last call the officer noticed a man leaving the bar so apparently intoxicated that he could barely walk.

The man stumbled around the parking lot for a few minutes, with the officer quietly observing. After what seemed an eternity in which he tried his keys on five different vehicles, the man managed to find his car and fall into it. He sat there for a few minutes as a number of other
patrons left the bar and drove off.

Finally he started the car, switched the wipers on and off--it was a fine, dry summer night--,flicked the blinkers on and off a couple of times, honked the horn and then switched on the lights. He moved the vehicle forward a few inches, reversed a little and then remained for a few more minutes as some more of the other patrons' vehicles left. At last, when his was the only car left in the parking lot, he pulled out and drove slowly down the road.

The police officer, having waited patiently all this time, now started up his patrol car, put on the flashing lights, promptly pulled the man over, and administered a breathalyzer test. To his amazement, the breathalyzer indicated no evidence that the man had consumed any alcohol at all!

Dumbfounded, the officer said, I'll have to ask you to accompany me to the sheriffs office. This breathalyzer equipment must be broken."

"I doubt it," said the truly proud non-drinker. "Tonight I'm the designated decoy."

Thursday, October 18, 2007

10 Things to Do with All that Halloween Candy

The best thing about Halloween for most kids can be summed up in one word: Candy.

Every family has its own methods of getting through the post-Halloween mounds of joy. Some let their kids gorge themselves for a day or two. Others dole it out a little at a time. Some parents even ban the candy bars altogether. For some nutritionists (and dentists!), Halloween candy is downright scary.
Whatever candy camp your family falls in –– there’s more to do with candy than eat it. Check out these ideas of what to do with leftovers:

1. Recycle it. Practice instant recycling. Screen the candy your kids bring home. After throwing away any unwrapped goodies, take out any candy your children don’t like or you don’t want them to have and then send that candy back out the door with other trick-or-treaters.

2. Freeze it. Put the chocolate bars right in the freezer to save them for later. Frozen chocolate takes longer to eat, so children can’t wolf it down so quickly.

3. Bake it. You don’t have to freeze the candy to keep it fresh. Kept in an airtight container, it will last long after Halloween. Later, you can bake surprise cupcakes. Push a soft candy into the middle of the batter in each cup before baking. Decorate the icing with more candies. You can also substitute bits of chocolate bars in your favorite chocolate-chip cookie recipe.

4. Melt it. Save chocolate to bring a taste of summer into your home long after you’ve put away the sunscreen. Melt chocolate for s’mores any time of year. Place a chocolate bar and a marshmallow between two graham crackers on top of a paper towel. Microwave for about 20 seconds.

5. Stuff it. Gather the leftover goodies and stuff them into a (homemade or store-bought) piñata. Crack the piñata open at Thanksgiving or wait until your child’s birthday.

6. Create it. Professional artists create sculptures from candy, why not kids? Make mosaics with hard candy. Cover sturdy cardboard with wax paper, aluminum foil or paper. Then instead of tiles, use candy to create a design and “grout” it with stiff icing. To make sculptures, stick soft candy, apples and marshmallows together with toothpicks.

7. House it. After Halloween, kids can’t wait for Christmas. Save Halloween candy for gingerbread houses.

8. Wear it. Make a candy necklace. You’ll need an assortment of lollipops and colorful candies with twist-wrap ends to make this idea from the National Confectioners Association. Cut a 14-inch strand of thin twine or fabric ribbon. Tie one end of a wrapper of candy or lollipop stick tightly to one end of ribbon or twine (leave about two inches of ribbon free for tying at the end). Attach candy by knotting the ribbon around the wrapper ends or lollipop sticks until the necklace is complete. Leave two inches at the end. Tie the ends together and wear the latest in edible jewelry.

9. Decorate it. Create Christmas ornaments from candy. To make a train, take a long pack of gum and glue on round candy for wheels, a square piece for a smokestack, and something round for the bell on top. Attach a loop of gold thread or ribbon for hanging. Look at simple geometric illustrations (such as are in coloring books) for other ideas. Coat your ornament with an acrylic sealer so it won’t deteriorate and you don’t draw bugs.

10. Share it. Take your leftover candy to the office. Even if your co-workers who are parents are sick of the stuff, chances are your younger colleagues will relish childhood memories as they reach for another Mary Jane or Butterfinger.
Or better yet, fill a coffee can with candy and bring it to your local nursing home, homeless shelter or a charity for the staff to enjoy. Add a note that says, “Thanks for all the good work you do.”

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Poem I Understand

I Understand

I don't know why some people feel they suffer unique pain.
As if, they are the only ones who've lost or ceased to gain.
I don't know why they hide their pain and clutch it ever tighter.
It seems to me that all should know - a burden shared gets lighter.

If you think that, you can't share because I won't understand.
At least just, give me half a chance to lend a helping hand.
For I know that you're hurting and I know a place to start.
Perhaps if you could realize - Your pain burns in my heart.

Maybe I can help a bit to get you through today.
And maybe by tomorrow you won’t need help anymore.
But if you should - Don't be ashamed -For that's what friends are for.

After all is said and done - The trials ceased - You're whole.
Perhaps you'll know just what to do to help another soul.
Being crushed by hurt and pain - be it woman or a man
I won't have to hear them say, "You just don’t understand."

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Twenty fun things to do on Halloween

1. Give away something other than candy. (Toothpicks, golf balls, bags of sand, etc.)

2. Wait behind the door until some people come. When they get near the door, jump out, wearing a costume, and holding a bag, and yell, "Trick or Treat!" Look at them, scratch your head and act confused.

3. Fill a briefcase with marbles and crackers. Write on it, "Top Secret" in big letters. When trick-or-treaters come, look around suspiciously, say, "It's about time you got here," give them the briefcase, and quickly shut the door.

4. Get about 30 people to wait in your living room. When trick-or-treaters come to the door, say, "Come in." When they do, have everyone yell, "Surprise!!!" Act like it's a surprise party.

5. Get everyone who comes to the door to come in and see if they can figure out what's wrong with your dishwasher. Insist that it makes an unnatural "whirring" sound.

6. After you give them candy, hand the trick-or-treaters a bill.

7. Open the door dressed as a giant fish. Immediately collapse, and don't move or say anything until the trick-or-treaters go away.

8. When you answer the door, hold up one candy bar, throw it out into the street, and yell, "Crawl for it!"

9. When you answer the door, look at the trick-or-treaters, act shocked and scared, and start screaming your head off. Slam the door and runaround the house, screaming until they go away.

10. Insist that the trick-or-treaters each do ten push-ups before you give them any candy.

11. Hand out menus to the trick-or-treaters and let them order their candy. Keep asking if anyone wants to see the wine list.

12. Get a catapult. Sit on your porch and catapult pumpkins at anyone who comes within 50 yards of your house. That could be fun!

13. When people come to the door, jump out a nearby window, crashing through the glass, and run as far away from your house as you can.

14. Answer the door dressed as a pilgrim. Stare at the trick-or-treaters for a moment, pretend to be confused, and start flipping through a calendar.

15. Instead of candy, give away colored eggs. If anyone protests, explain that the eggs are the only thing you had left over from Easter.

16. Answer the door dressed as a dentist. Angrily give the trick-or-treaters a two-hour lecture on tooth decay.

17. Answer the door with a mouthful of M & M's and several half-eaten candy bars in your hands. Act surprised, and close the door. Open it again in a few seconds, and insist that you don't have any candy.

18. Hand out cigarettes and bottles of aspirin. Highly unrecommended.

19. Put a crown on a pumpkin and put the pumpkin on a throne on your porch. Insist that all of the trick-or-treaters bow before the pumpkin.

20. Dress up like a bunny rabbit. Yell and curse from the moment you open the door, and angrily throw the candy at the trick-or-treaters. Slam the door when you're finished

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Silence Brings on the Pain

Silence Brings on the Pain

I’m depressed enough to write again,
The gun is against my head,
Will I pill the trigger?
Should I let the blood drip like tears from my eyes?

There is so much pain,
Will I die in vain?
Do you understand?
Why I hold this gun in my hand?

I hear the floor creaking
With footsteps in the night.
Through the crevices
The lustful eyes peep.
I remember someone being there.
Will he be there tonight?

Another sleepless night,
Another pill,
Another drink,
A puff of smoke
Anything to make me not have to think.

A person that I thought cared,
Was really my enemy.
Unable to sleep.
Unable to close my eyes.
I lie awake, and silently weep.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Sheriff's Deputy Kills Six in Rampage

CRANDON, Wis. (Oct. 7) - An off-duty sheriff's deputy went on a shooting rampage early Sunday at a home where seven young people had gathered for pizza and movies, killing six and critically injuring the other before authorities took him down, officials said.

The gunman, Tyler Peterson, was 20 years old and worked full-time as a Forest County deputy sheriff and part-time as a Crandon police officer, said Police Chief John Dennee. Three of the victims were students at the small town's high school, and three were recent graduates, a school official said.

The gunman may have graduated from the same high school. Peterson was not working at the time of the shooting, Sheriff Keith Van Cleve said. The survivor was hospitalized in nearby Marshfield, Dennee said. A Crandon police officer who fired back was treated for minor injuries and released.

Gary Bradley, mayor of the city of about 2,000, said earlier Sunday that the suspect had been brought down by a sniper, but Van Cleve would not confirm that officers shot the suspect. It wasn't immediately clear what the gunman's motive was, but the mother of a 14-year-old victim said the suspect may have been a jealous boyfriend.

The shooting occurred in a white, two-story duplex about a block from downtown Crandon. "It was a pizza and movie party," Dennee said. Three of the victims were Crandon High School students, said schools Superintendent Richard Peters, and the other three had graduated within the past three years.

"There is probably nobody in Crandon who is not affected by this," Peters said, adding that students would be especially affected. "They are going to wake up in shock and disbelief and a lot of pain." Peters did not know whether Peterson had also graduated from the 300-student high school. But Crandon resident Karly Johnson, 16, said that she knew the gunman and that he had helped her in a tech education class.

"He graduated with my brother," she said. "He was nice. He was an average guy. Normal. You wouldn't think he could do that."

One of the dead was 14-year-old Lindsey Stahl, said her mother, Jenny Stahl, 39. She said her daughter called her Saturday night and asked whether she could sleep over at a friend's house. Jenny Stahl agreed.

"I'm waiting for somebody to wake me up right now. This is a bad, bad dream," the weeping mother said. "All I heard it was a jealous boyfriend and he went berserk. He took them all out."

Marci Franz, 35, who lives two houses south of the duplex, said gunshots awoke her. "I heard probably five or six shots, a short pause and then five or six more," she said. "I wasn't sure if it was gunfire initially. I thought some kids were messing around and hitting a nearby metal building." Then she heard eight louder shots and tires squealing, she said. "I was just about to get up and call it in, and I heard sirens," she said. "There's never been a tragedy like this here.

There's been individual incidents, but nothing of this magnitude." Her husband, David Franz, 36, said it was hard to accept that someone in law enforcement committed such an act. "The first statement we said to each other was, how did he get through the system?" David Franz said. "How do they know somebody's background, especially that young? It is disturbing, to say the least."

The sheriff said he would meet with state Attorney General J.B. Van Hollen on Monday morning to discuss the case. Dennee said the state Department of Criminal Investigation will handle the case because the suspect was a deputy and officer. The Crandon School District called off classes Monday.

The community, about 225 miles north of Milwaukee in an area known for logging and outdoor activities, is facing a trying time but is pulling together, Bradley said. "We are a strong community. We always have been," he said. "This is agonizing, but we will prevail."

Full story and pictures ....

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Killing for Pleasure

My boyfriend at the time was just getting off from work, when he spotted two Rottiweiler dogs roaming the parking lot near his car. They were very friendly so he petted them both, and then walked back inside to pick up his jacket that he had forgotten. A friend of his arrived for his shift, noticed the dogs, and decided he wanted to take one of them home with him. My boyfriend of course had to have the other one, and quickly put him in back of his car and brought him to my house. It was a complete mistake from day one.

The dog was a nice looking Rott and very friendly, but he was already full grown, so I felt no emotional attachment to the dog. My boyfriend was the one who wanted to have him, but unless I took time to feed him, he never got watered or fed. Eventually I began to hate the dog because there were always arguments about the dogs care. Instead of buying or building the dog a doghouse, my boyfriend used the money to try and build a large stereo system to put in the back of his car. So when it rained the dog would howl for hours and hours, which began to bother the neighbors and they would come complaining to me.

My next door neighbors hated him, because every time they tried to do anything in their backyard, the dog would bark at them and jump up on the fence. One day the neighbor got to close and he jumped up on the fence and somehow scratched her on the arm. I never got to see the wound, but she claimed she had to go to the E.R. and have stitches. To avoid any more hassles with my neighbor I agree to pay her hospital bill of $181.00.

We had a fenced in back yard, but somehow he began getting loose everyday and roaming the neighborhood, which made people very uneasy seeing a big Rott running around loose. The cops were called several times, and when they tried to catch him, he would come running towards the backyard, so they knew he was ours. After two tickets I was fed up, and demanded that the dog had to be more secured or I would get rid of him. My boyfriend and I argued for two days until he finally went to the hardware store and purchased a large, long, metal chain. He then secured the chain around the dogs neck and the other end around a clothesline pole. Again this was fine, until it rained and then he would howl and howl for hours.

Another day, one of my sons friends, who was only 5, came into the backyard and began playing with him. I hadn't even notice the boy had come into my backyard, or I could have kept an eye on him. The next thing I knew I heard a blood curling scream, and my son and the boy came running into the house. The boy was holding his ear, and I could see blood flowing down from where his hand was being held. I tried to ask him what happened but he was too upset, so I hurried him over to his house and left him with his parents. I talked to my son about what had happened and he said his friend was trying to take the chain off the dog when the dog jumped up and his paw came down on the young neighbor boy. I found out later that the dogs claw had almost torn his ear off, anyway that's what they told me, and of course they wanted me to pay the $300 dollar hospital bill, plus a couple of hundred for his pain and suffering. This time I refused to pay, because I didn't feel it was my fault since he had come into my backyard, without me knowing.

I hated the dog more everyday and began refusing to feed and water him. If he was to be fed then, my boyfriend would have to be the one taking care of him, and I let him know this. Days would sometimes go by, without the dog getting fed. He looked so miserable that I couldn't even stand looking at him.

My younger son, who was only 2 at the time, began sneaking outside without me knowing. I had caught him a couple of times, in the backyard trying to play with the dog. It didn't worry me that the dog would try to bite him, but the dog liked jumping up on people. My son was a small two-year-old, and the dog was three times his size and weight. Sure enough, one day my fears came true, and my son tried to play with him. The dog jumped up on him, and one of the dogs nails hit my son in the head, putting a large nail hole wound in his forehead. He came running and screaming into the house with blood running down from his head. I quickly picked him up and called 911, telling them my son was injured from the dog.

Within 10 minutes the fire department arrived. I was so furious at the dog, all I could think about was a way to get rid of him. The injury wasn't real serious, but he still had to have 3 stitches in his head, right along the hairline. As they were helping him, all I could think about was what if it had been his eye, or what if the dog had continued jumping on him. After that, I put a lock on the backdoor, so my little boy couldn't go outside unless I was with him.

The next night it poured down rain and the dog howled for hours. I had only a few hours of sleep, between worrying about my son, and listen to the dog non-stop. I was awaken by a noise in the backyard, and quickly went to see what was going on. Somehow the dog had managed to get loose from the clothesline pole, and was dragging the chain behind. He had tried to jump over the fence, but the chain had hung up and it left him partly dangling in the air. I struggle to free him, hurting my arm as I did. I felt such deep anger inside. It was then that I began forming plans in my head about what I was going to do with the dog. I imagined the worst possible torture, and even the quickest most humane way to have it out of my life.

I tied him to the clothesline, and then went back into the house for a bucket of water. As I was letting the water run into the bucket I began adding some rat poison that I had under the sink. Next I found some poison for killing slugs and added that to the water. I wasn't sure if it would kill him, but I really didn't care. I just wanted to inflict harm on it, in some manner. I carried the water outside and sat if down next to him. He quickly drank the water, since he hadn't been watered in days. I turned and walked away.

Without a second thought to what might happen, I got my sons ready for a day of fun, and took them to the park to play. We had a picnic and walked around exploring places we had never been. Not even once did my mind wonder to the dog and think about how it might be doing. I really didn't care. Maybe I didn't secure it to the pole tight enough and when I got back it would escape and be long gone somewhere. I played and played with my boys, pushing them on the swings until we all became tired. When it was close to the time for my boyfriend to stop by my place, we packed up all our things and headed home.

When we returned my boyfriend was already there. He had found the dog dead in the backyard, and again he was free from the chain. He had a suspicion that someone may have poisoned the dog, but I convinced him that something happened to the dog during the storm. The neighbor behind our house saw the dog, and heard us talking about what may have happened. The neighbor quickly put in his two cents and said he thought the dog may have but killed by lightening. He said he had heard lightening strike real close to the house and since the dog was chained to the pole, he probably died of shock. I quickly jumped in and agreed with what he had to say. My boyfriend finally became convinced that was what had happened and took the do away for disposal. In my mind, I completely blocked out the fact that I had given the dog tainted water, and began fully believing that the dog had died because of being struck by lightening.

This happened in the fall of 1995. I just remembered today, in the fall of 2007, that I was the one responsible for killing the dog. I don't know why suddenly the memory returned to me, but I felt compelled to write down the story.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Washcloth

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week. Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 am.

The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare. As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.

I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in. Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away.

I was a little surprised when the doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?" I didn't respond.

After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal . Some shopping, cleaning, cooking. After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?" I told her to get another one from the cupboard. She replied, "No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it."

I'm NEVER going back to that doctor ever, ever, ever again!!

For the Child Who Cries at Night

This is for every child who cries at night
Alone with shame and pain and fright.

For every child who wants so much
To only feel a gentle touch.

For the beaten child, who cries in pain
Whose tears run silent, like a summer rain.

For the child used to satisfy lust
Who never learns to love or trust.

For the child taken from her home
And made to feel so all alone.

For the child whose home is just a shell
Where life becomes a living hell.

For the child who smiles but cannot feel
Because of scars too deep to heal.

For every child who yearns for love
I hope and pray to God above
He hears your cries and heals your pain
Never again to cry tears of rain.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

A Bug Joke

A few days ago, I woke up from a nap with a searing pain in my right ear. My eardrum felt as if it was vibrating and suffering from some sort of spasm. After shaking my head around for a couple of minutes and trying to stop the spasm by sticking my finger in my ear (bad idea), OUT CRAWLED A TINY BLACK BUG!!!

*shudder* and again still *shuddering*

For the next few days I continue to feel intermittent pain in that ear. It becomes so much of a problem that I begin to obsess that the bug that dropped from my ear, has laid it's eggs somewhere deep inside my ear canal. The more days that pass the more I begin to believe that I’m being eaten alive by tiny bug larvae.

GROSS GROSS GROSS EW EW EW!!! *shuddering again*

So when I woke at 6:30 this morning to the sensation of SOMETHING CRAWLING IN MY EAR, I freaked out and stumbled into the bathroom to KILL THE LARVAE TRYING TO EAT THROUGH TO MY BRAIN.

The first thing I saw was a bottle of peroxide, which I poured just a small amount into my ear.

Bad idea.
Peroxide bubbles.
Bubbles hit eardrum.
Bubbles hitting eardrum causes vertigo.
Vertigo causes me to fall onto the bathroom floor and twitch, unable to get up to pour alcohol into ear and stop the madness.

Eventually I managed to grab the alcohol off the counter and stop the bubbling.

If something is in my ear, it is now very clean and very drunk...

You Are Never Alone

There are times when you are alone,
no matter how crowded the room.
There are times when you are alone,
and not a soul is around.
But you are never alone,
because the ghosts in your heart
will always be with you,
to share the good and the bad.
The long lonely nights,
the short fun filled minutes.
No matter what it is that you are doing
you are never truly alone.
I think sometimes the ghosts are the ones
that we wish the most to spend our time with,
and other times they are the ones
we wish to get away from the most.
Haunted past memories of lovers, friends and family.
Never is a person truly alone.
If we ever did lose those memories,
no matter how anguishing they may seem
while we see them now,
think of how alone we would truly be
if we didn’t have them.
Would it truly be better
to not have those memories at all
and be completely alone,
or is it better on those long cold nights
to have the past to keep us company?
Even if the past isn’t always something that we loved,
or are happy to have happened to us,
the reward of retaining those bad memories
is the gift of having the good memories too.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

My boy toy

I met him online in one of the chat rooms, and after viewing his gorgeous, young body, I knew I had to taste all that he had to offer. He was around the age of eighteen, muscular and with olive colored skin, a big tattoo on his smooth biceps, green eyes, and dark short cut hair. He was any older woman's dream.

He met me at my apartment, and we spent no time getting down to business, stripping our clothes off as we walked towards my bed. My mattress lies by the open window, with a single crumpled sheet and pillow. Slowly the boy sinks to his knees and tips me backward onto the bed, never taking his eyes off my cunt. Laying his palms on the insides of my thighs, he forces my legs apart as far as they will spread. I can't take my eyes off that beautiful penis. Then I have to because he starts to thrust hard and fast, his round balls slapping my flesh, his hands convulsively squeezing my breasts. I'm panting and gasping, thrusting back and kissing his penis hard with my vagina. As soon as my whimpers reach a certain pitch, the boy slips it out, wipes away the sweat that's trickled down his creamy chest to his belly, then he enters me again, and again and again.
He rolls me over and grips me by the hips and jacking my ass upward, he changes angle and rams it up my cunt all the way to the cervix. I rock against him as hard and fast as I want to; this guy's not going to quit pumping till I can't cum anymore.

Bright, almost blinding light from the hall fell across our bodies as my roommate and a tall black man stumbled into the apartment.

"Damn! Give me a fuckin' break," the boy protest.

"Ohh, Don't stop!" I shout out as I grabbed the boy's ass, forcing him deep inside me. "They are friends of mine. Keep going."

From the corner of my eye I see the man my roommate as brought back with her, already stripped to the waist. He looks like a dark-chocolate God.

The boy is watching while he continues to dig deeper between the cheeks of my rump, stroking my breasts and sneaking one hand down to play with my clit. Without a word my roommate strips and begins to suck her mans mounting hard on.

By this time I'm cumming in a nonstop hysterical stream, the feel of my mount penetrating me again and again sent a shuddering wave all through me. I bit the pillow and gripped the mattress edges for dear life.

As I look over I see my roommate twisting around into a low bend over the bathtub with her rump in the air. Her man forces his long black thick cock up her creamy white mound, as she caresses her own stiff breast, making noises in the back of her throat as he roughly enters her.

"Oh you dirty fucking bastard. Fuck me hard", she groans. The boy at my cunt is like a rock, his balls are like a hard fuzzy peach ready to burst. I find myself wanting them to burst at last.

I brush the sweaty hair from my eyes and look at the man as he's lathering his left hand, his right hand resting on my roommates soft white ass. The boy hugs me even tighter and bites into the back of my neck. The man returns my stare with cold contempt. I watch as his dark cock rams in and out of her ass, slowly he guides several of his long fingers into her cunt. The boy takes one look and, "aaaaaaaahahhahhhhhhh!" hot and wet cum spills forth only like a virile teenager can. We collapse in exhaustion. A pool of semen seeps out onto the bed.
"You bastard," shouts my roommate. Still she loved it. A cock up her ass and a hand up her tight little white cunt. With a jerk her man pulls out of her, and shoots his massive load over her creamy white ass. Her man quickly steps into his clothes and rushes out the door. As a last word he shouts, "You fucking white bitch", then he's gone. My roommate giggles, massages her moist behind and then darts off to her room, leaving me alone with the boy.

He turns to kiss me one last time. "Good night Rick," I whisper lightly into his ear.

"It's Ron," he says smiling sweetly.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Man Arrested for having Sex with a Pumpkin

'A man is driving home late one night and is feeling very horny. As he is passing a pumpkin patch, his mind starts to wander...'

This was in the "Washington Post"... the title of the article was "Best Comeback Line Ever." This is pretty damn good. Drunk and horny, he still came up with this!

Police arrested Patrick Lawrence, a 22-year-old white male, resident of Dacula, GA, in a pumpkin patch at 11:38 p.m. Friday. Lawrence will be charged with lewd and lascivious behavior, public indecency, and public intoxication at the Gwinnett County courthouse on Monday.

The suspect allegedly stated that as he was passing a pumpkin patch, he decided to stop. "You know, a pumpkin is soft and squishy inside, and there was no one around here for miles. At least I thought there wasn't," he stated in a phone interview from the jail.

Lawrence went on to state that he pulled over to the side of the road, picked out a pumpkin that he felt was appropriate to his purposes, cut a hole in it, and proceeded to satisfy his alleged "need." "I guess I was just really into it, you know?" he commented with evident embarrassment.

In the process, Lawrence apparently failed to notice the Gwinnett County police car approaching and was unaware of his audience until Officer Brenda Taylor approached him. "It was an unusual situation, that's for sure," said Officer Taylor. "I walked up to (Lawrence) and he's...just working away at this pumpkin."

Taylor went on to describe what happened when she approached Lawrence. "I just went up and said, 'Excuse me sir, but do you realize that you are screwing a pumpkin?' He got real surprised, as you'd expect, and then looked me straight in the face and said, "A pumpkin? it midnight already?"

Friday, August 03, 2007

Monday, July 30, 2007

The top 10 misconceptions about Police Officers

The Top Ten Misconceptions about Police Officers

This Information Has Been Derived from a Federal Report on The State of Law Enforcement in the United States

1) Being a cop is a dangerous job.
False: Being a cop is not even on the list of the top 15 most dangerous jobs in America. Being a cab driver is 50 times more dangerous than being a cop.

2) Cops in the U.S are highly trained.
False: Cops in the U.S. only receive 9 to 12 weeks of training, sometimes a lot less, one of the lowest in the industrialized world. Cops in most other countries receive at least 104 weeks of training, (two years) and usually require an education.

3) Cops are chosen because of their superior decision making skills.
False: A report by the federal government states that over 90% of cops on duty in the U.S. barely passed high school or received a GED.

4) Cops are morally superior to regular citizens.
False: Out of 750,000 cops in the U.S. over 11,000 are indicted each year for felony crimes. That's 32.8 per day. This is only a drop in the bucket, most cop violations go unreported.

5) Cops are not civilians.
False: Cops are civilians, they are civil servants protected by the Civil Service Act. Only elected officials and military personnel are government officials. Not appointed offices such as law enforcement officers, deputies, civil servants, government contractors or government employees. The only law enforcement officer that is not a civilian is a Sheriff, because he is elected.

6) Cops are legal experts.
False False False: Cops are not experts at anything, especially law. If any cop tells you he is a legal expert, call your local Bar Associations Unlicensed Practice of Law Branch.

7) Cops can give you legal advice.
False: Only a licensed attorney can give you legal advice. If a cop suggests any legal action, report it to the State Bar.

8) Cops are under paid.
False: They are well paid for a job that requires no education, unskilled, minimally trained low risk labor, with government benefits and retirement.

9) Cops are society's best people.
False: Some departments have been found to have convicted felons in uniform and as high up as the highest ranking officers in their precincts.

10) Police do a good job of policing themselves.
False: Insider information has reported to us that it is most departments' policies to use internal affairs to cover up anything that would embarrass a departments administration. Unless it is caught on record or reported by the media. Letting cops police themselves is the same as letting the inmates run the prisons. Vote for any local change in your community to put citizen review boards in charge of police discipline matters. Remember, we are the taxpayers, the cops are our employees, Stop letting them get away with murder.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

TMJ (Temporo-Mandibular Joint)

I went to the doctor today and this is what I was told I have...more fucking pain!


You may not have heard of it, but you use it hundreds of times every day. It is the Temporo-Mandibular Joint (TMJ), the joint where the mandible (the lower jaw) joins the temporal bone of the skull, immediately in front of the ear on each side of your head. A small disc of cartilage separates the bones, much like in the knee joint, so that the mandible may slide easily; each time you chew you move it. But you also move it every time you talk and each time you swallow (every three minutes or so). It is, therefore, one of the most frequently used of all joints of the body and one of the most complex.

You can locate this joint by putting your finger on the triangular structure in front of your ear. Then move your finger just slightly forward and press firmly while you open your jaw all the way and shut it. The motion you feel is the TMJ. You can also feel the joint motion in your ear canal.

These maneuvers can cause considerable discomfort to a patient who is having TMJ trouble, and physicians use these maneuvers with patients for diagnosis.

How Does TMJ Work?
When you bite down hard, you put force on the object between your teeth and on the joint. In terms of physics, the jaw is the lever and the TMJ is the fulcrum. Actually, more force is applied (per square foot) to the joint surface than to whatever is between your teeth. To accommodate such forces and to prevent too much wear and tear, the cartilage between the mandible and skull normally provides a smooth surface, over which the joint can freely slide with minimal friction.

Therefore, the forces of chewing can be distributed over a wider surface in the joint space and minimize the risk of injury. In addition, several muscles contribute to opening and closing the jaw and aid in the function of the TMJ.

Ear pain
Sore jaw muscles
Temple/cheek pain
Jaw popping/clicking
Locking of the jaw
Difficulty in opening the mouth fully
Frequent head/neck aches

How Does TMJ Dysfunction Feel?
The pain may be sharp and searing, occurring each time you swallow, yawn, talk, or chew, or it may be dull and constant. It hurts over the joint, immediately in front of the ear, but pain can also radiate elsewhere. It often causes spasms in the adjacent muscles that are attached to the bones of the skull, face, and jaws. Then, pain can be felt at the side of the head (the temple), the cheek, the lower jaw, and the teeth.

A very common focus of pain is in the ear. Many patients come to the ear specialist quite convinced their pain is from an ear infection. When the earache is not associated with a hearing loss and the eardrum looks normal, the doctor will consider the possibility that the pain comes from a TMJ dysfunction.
There are a few other symptoms besides pain that TMJ dysfunction can cause. It can make popping, clicking, or grinding sounds when the jaws are opened widely. Or the jaw locks wide open (dislocated). At the other extreme, TMJ dysfunction can prevent the jaws from fully opening. Some people get ringing in their ears from TMJ trouble.

How Can Things Go Wrong with TMJ?
In most patients, pain associated with the TMJ is a result of displacement of the cartilage disc that causes pressure and stretching of the associated sensory nerves. The popping or clicking occurs when the disk snaps into place when the jaw moves. In addition, the chewing muscles may spasm, not function efficiently, and cause pain and tenderness.

Both major and minor trauma to the jaw can significantly contribute to the development of TMJ problems. If you habitually clench, grit, or grind your teeth, you increase the wear on the cartilage lining of the joint, and it doesn't have a chance to recover. Many persons are unaware that they grind their teeth, unless someone tells them so.

Chewing gum much of the day can cause similar problems. Stress and other psychological factors have also been implicated as contributory factors to TMJ dysfunction. Other causes include teeth that do not fit together properly (improper bite), malpositioned jaws, and arthritis. In certain cases, chronic malposition of the cartilage disc and persistent wear in the cartilage lining of the joint space can cause further damage.

What Can Be Done for TMJ?
Because TMJ symptoms often develop in the head and neck, otolaryngologists are appropriately qualified to diagnose TMJ problems. Proper diagnosis of TMJ begins with a detailed history and physical, including careful assessment of the teeth occlusion and function of the jaw joints and muscles. If the doctor diagnoses your case early, it will probably respond to these simple, self-remedies:

Rest the muscles and joints by eating soft foods.
Do not chew gum.
Avoid clenching or tensing.
Relax muscles with moist heat (1/2 hour at least twice daily).

In cases of joint injury, ice packs applied soon after the injury can help reduce swelling. Relaxation techniques and stress reduction, patient education, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, muscle relaxants or other medications may be indicated in a dose your doctor recommends.

Other therapies may include fabrication of an occlusal splint to prevent wear and tear on the joint. Improving the alignment of the upper and lower teeth and surgical options are available for advanced cases. After diagnosis, your otolaryngologist may suggest further consultation with your dentist and oral surgeon to facilitate effective management of TMJ dysfunction.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

The Dark Room

The Dark Room

I met my girlfriend Tonya for dinner one evening last week and, over dinner, she told me about this place visited called “The Dark Room”. It’s a quaint place with a cozy, intimate restaurant out front, but the back door takes you to a house of fantasies. There is, of course, a small fee but you get to live out your most intimate fantasies there, and they remain forever yours.

Tonya shared with me the hot and steamy details of her visit and I found myself so turned on that I began to think about my unfulfilled fantasy. Each night since, I have masturbated with my eyes closed, envisioning my erotic jungle experience. Today, unable to think about much else, I called her to ask for the number. I spoke with the Mistress there and arranged to meet her and embark upon my erotic journey into the jungle.

We met that afternoon, discussed the details, and set the date for the next Wednesday afternoon. I keep reliving every detail out of the adventure in my mind, and I didn’t think I would be able to wait the five days until I would finally get there.

Time seems to have dragged so slowly this past week. I’ve gotten my hair done, had my hands and feet perfectly manicured and pedicured, and I even spent time in the sun beds to tan my body. I’ve worked out harder than usual and feel sure that I’ll look like the sexiest blonde alive. My silky platinum blonde hair hangs loosely down my back. It has the untamed look of the minx, that I will finally get to be. My muscles are firm, and even I get wet and horny when I stand naked before a mirror.

I especially love my tits. A 34-D, firm, and round. Sometimes, when I am alone, I start out massaging oil into them. I love licking myself into a frenzy before my fingers scratch my belly, my thighs and drift slowly towards my pussy. Tonight, I’ll do just that once again, just to hold myself over until tomorrow.

The day finally arrived. My stomach is tight with anticipation and my hands are hot and clammy. The door to my “Dark Room” has just been closed. I hear the sounds of birds chirping in the background, the sound of wind blowing through trees, and the gentle flow of an indoor waterfall in the middle of a huge pool.

I’m ordered to remove all of my clothes at the door. “You won’t be needing any of those here”, a huge muscled man at the door tells me. I giggle at the idea and without much hesitation, I strip all my clothing off and hand them over.

I am naked and the cool breeze feels wonderful on my honey-tanned skin. Slowly, I walk barefoot through the bush to the water’s edge. The water appears to be safe, so I venture to the waterfall and immerse myself in the cool water. My nipples stand hard as the water beats relentlessly upon them. It feels so wonderful to be naked out in the open like this. I walk from the waterfall and gently slide into the pool below. The water is cool and refreshing, so I splash around and play a little. It’s not as if a city girl can splash around naked in the outdoors every day.

After my swim, I strolled to the sand and lay naked in the sun. As the sun’s rays warmed my body, I felt the strongest sensation of being watched, which excites me. I looked around but could see no one except the baboon hidden amongst the brush, eyeing me curiously. Knowing what was to happen to me today, I lay out on my back, tits firm in the air and spread my legs. I began toying with my clitoris make it throb and stand out every so slightly. I continue as I notice the baboon’s eyes growing wider as I bring myself to orgasm.

As the squeals of pleasure escaped my lips, I opened my eyes and was startled to see him standing there. He stood tall, about six feet. His sandy colored hair was wild and wavy and hung to his shoulders. His body tanned, strong and absolutely beautiful. He stood above me with a smile that emulated from his deep blue eyes and I felt safe, not threatened. I scanned every inch of his body, as it towered naked before me. He was beautiful, and when my eyes met his pelvic area, I’m sure the hot flush that coursed through my veins colored my skin a burning red. He was fully erect. I knew that the pleasure he was going to bring me today would be mixed with pain, but I was ready.

Although I knew that this man was a complete stranger, I had fantasized about this so long and he resembled exactly what I had asked for so I felt as if I had finally met the man I had been fantasizing about for years.

He kneeled toward me, knowing that I wanted only him, and kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed him back, passionately and he lay upon me. We kissed for what seemed an eternity, our hands ravaging one another. Although his hands were strong, they were also gentle. His hot lips brushed my cheeks and slid steamily down my throat, across my shoulders and to my bare breasts. He began to toy with my nipples as I laid back with my eyes closed, enjoying every second. As his tongue danced around my nipples, I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter. Soon I was aching with anticipation. His mouth left my nipples and he ventured downwards. His tongue licked across my thighs, and as I squirmed in delight, he parted my pussy lips and jabbed he tongue deep within me. The ritualistic dance continued and I began to moan with sheer pleasure.

He reached to his side, where he had an open coconut. He lifted it up and began pouring the milk onto me. The sticky sweet milk tingled as it made its way down my lips and he licked it off with a thick pulsating tongue that sent me into a screaming frenzy as my climax came. My body trembled frantically and, as the tremors subsided, I squealed and shook. He came over me now and poured the coconut milk onto my breasts.

Tantalizingly, he worked me until my nipples stood erect. Then he began to nibble and bite me there. He moved upward and his rapid breath in my ear sent another wave of goose bumps over my body. I was ready for more, and so was he.

With a sweeping thrust, he entered me. Swollen and ready, he felt like a rocket ship inside me. His hips rocked steadily and he entered me again and again. With each stroke, I felt nearer to orgasm. He kissed me and stroked me, never losing his rhythm. This man must have been a dancer, the way he could work me over, his relentless, steady grind making me cum all over him. When I felt his body tensing as his orgasm neared, I squeezed him hard with my pussy, using every muscle to milk his sweet juices from his aching muscle. He screamed aloud with pleasure, sweat dripping from his body as his body trembled, succumbing to the sweet ecstasy of his long awaited orgasm. With each spasm, he thrust deeper within me and we exploded together, our bodies entwined in this mesmerizing moment.

He held me for what seemed an eternity, and then we strolled together to the water. We splashed and played together as though we had been one forever. Taking the time to wash one another and showering off underneath the waterfall.

It was wonderful, and when we were clean, I lay on the large rock near the waterfall. He took oil and began to massage my body. His hands stroking the oil down my back, my thighs, my arms, and my ass. I rolled over, inviting him to rub my front. He started with my hands and feet, worked up my arms and legs and then to my tits, stomach and between my legs. One more tongue bath could never hurt. This time, he did something different. As he worked my clit with his tongue, his fingers entered me. He found the spot that would make me cum in a flash. I couldn’t believe it. Only one other man could do this to me. As his fingers explored deeper and around every bump inside my cunt an orgasm overtook my body like a bolt of lightning. My juices spilled out like a river. My head was spinning in the ecstasy of it all. When my orgasm was over, he continued to rub my body. I fell swiftly off to sleep with the setting sun. My fantasy was no more. It was reality.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Heart attack info

Subject: Heart Attacks and drinking Warm Water

This is a very good article, not only about the warm water after your meal, but also about heart attacks. The Chinese and Japanese drink hot tea with their meals, not cold water, maybe it is time we adopt their drinking habit while eating.

For those who like to drink cold water, this article is applicable to you. It is nice to have a cup of cold drink after a meal. However, the cold water will solidify the oily stuff that you have just consumed. It will slow down the digestion. Once this "sludge" reacts with the acid, it will break down and be absorbed by the intestine faster than the solid food. It will line the intestine. Very soon, this will turn into fats and lead to cancer. It is best to drink hot soup or warm water after a meal.

A serious note about heart attacks - You should know that not every heart attack symptom is going to be the left arm hurting. Be aware of intense pain in the jaw line. You may never have the first chest pain during the course of a heart attack. Nausea and intense sweating are also common symptoms. 60% of people who have a heart attack while they are asleep do not wake up. Pain in the jaw can wake you from a sound sleep. Let's be careful and be aware. The more we know the better chance we could survive.

A cardiologist says if everyone who reads this message sends it to 10 people, you can be sure that we'll save at least one life. Read this & Send the link to a friend. It could save a life. So, please be a true friend and send this article to all your friends you care about.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Free SUV

Tulsa was celebrating its yearly 4th of July Family Days Weekend in the heart of downtown. There were games everywhere and chances to win sweepstakes left and right. Enter to win a big screen TV. Donate a dollar and get a free key ring. Enter to win a SUV here by filling out a survey.

We've all seen them before, and some of us have filled out our names and phone numbers and probably never won anything before, but we still continue to hope.

Tammy was spending the day walking around enjoying the sites, when she noticed a rather nice looking man standing at a booth. He was in charge of a booth that was giving away a free SUV by filling out a short survey. Tammy had to put down her name, birthday, and how many members were in her household, how many drivers over the age 18, her address, phone number, and a short answer on what she would do with the SUV if she won. As Tammy filled out the survey, she thought about how nice it would be to have a new car. Being the type of person she was, she flirted with the guy somehow hoping that would increase her chances of winning. Over sixty people filled out the survey.

Five days later, to Tammy’s surprise a man showed up at her door with the bright red SUV waiting outside. The man from the celebration said her name was pulled from the box, so she let him in while they filled out the paperwork. He looked inpatient and said he was waiting for his co-worker to pick him up since he had driven the SUV to her place. He called his co-worker, but they were not able to come and get him at that time, so he convinced Tammy to give him a ride.
Tammy was never heard from again.The man picked Tammy to be his victim because of her results from the survey. She was 20 and lived alone. He had her address and had watched her for days. He wasn't with a real company and no one knew who this man was. He would go from state to state collecting information and using it to choose his victims.So remember the next time you drop your name into a sweepstakes do you know what you are trying to win? Tammy thought it was an innocent survey what she didn't know was the price of winning.

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Marijuana....When will the insanity stop?

Pot Prisoners Cost Americans $1 Billion a Year

The latest numbers are out…nearly 800,000 Americans were arrested on marijuana charges in 2005. When will the insanity stop?

American taxpayers are now spending more than a billion dollars per year to incarcerate its citizens for pot. That's according to statistics recently released by the U.S. Department of Justice's Bureau of Justice Statistics.
According to the new BJS report, "Drug Use and Dependence, State and Federal Prisoners, 2004," 12.7 percent of state inmates and 12.4 percent of federal inmates incarcerated for drug violations are serving time for marijuana offenses. Combining these percentages with separate U.S. Department of Justice statistics on the total number of state and federal drug prisoners suggests that there are now about 33,655 state inmates and 10,785 federal inmates behind bars for marijuana offenses. The report failed to include estimates on the percentage of inmates incarcerated in county and/or local jails for pot-related offenses.
Multiplying these totals by U.S. DOJ prison expenditure data reveals that taxpayers are spending more than $1 billion annually to imprison pot offenders.
The new report is noteworthy because it undermines the common claim from law enforcement officers and bureaucrats, specifically White House drug czar John Walters, that few, if any, Americans are incarcerated for marijuana related offenses. In reality, nearly 1 out of 8 U.S. drug prisoners are locked up for pot.
Of course, several hundred thousand more Americans are arrested each year for violating marijuana laws, costing taxpayers another $8 billion dollars annually in criminal justice costs.
According to the most recent figures available from the FBI, police arrested an estimated 786,545 people on marijuana charges in 2005 -- more than twice the number of Americans arrested just 12 years ago. Among those arrested, about 88 percent -- some 696,074 Americans -- were charged with possession only. The remaining 90,471 individuals were charged with "sale/manufacture," a category that includes all cultivation offenses, even those where the marijuana was being grown for personal or medical use.
These totals are the highest ever recorded by the FBI, and make up 42.6 percent of all drug arrests in the United States. Nevertheless, self-reported pot use by adults, as well as the ready availability of marijuana on the black market, remains virtually unchanged.
Marijuana isn't a harmless substance, and those who argue for a change in the drug's legal status do not claim it to be. However, pot's relative risks to the user and society are arguably fewer than those of alcohol and tobacco, and they do not warrant the expenses associated with targeting, arresting, and prosecuting hundreds of thousands of Americans every year.
According to federal statistics, about 94 million Americans -- that's 40 percent of the U.S. population age 12 or older -- self-identify as having used cannabis at some point in their lives, and relatively few acknowledge having suffered significant deleterious health effects due to their use. America's public policies should reflect this reality, not deny it. It makes no sense to continue to treat nearly half of all Americans as criminals.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Touch of Cold

Touch of Cold

There is bitterness in the blood
The world is about to flood.
Men’s hearts are no longer kind
There is coldness in mind.

There is no pulse in the vein
Color dies to a stain.
All day long is unrest
The very soul within my breast.

Grinding life down from its mark
Spin on blindly in the dark.
I am tired of the tears and laughter
And what may come hereafter.

In hell and heaven unmated
Like a soul belated
I am weary of days and hours
Desires, dreams, and powers.

The high Gods took in hand
A measure of sliding sand.
Weep for pains in hell;
In the end all is not well.

With lisp of leaves
And the ripple of rain
The tongueless vigil and
All the pain.

Things of which I may not speak
Thoughts that make the strong heart weak.
Wrought with weeping and laughter
That was my life before and after.

Friday, April 20, 2007



I went to McDonald's today, armed with an assault rifle and intending to kill 30 or 40 people. You didn't see me, because I look just like you.
Why didn't I do it? Why didn't I explode through that room in a frenzy of McDeath, pop-pop-popping moms and dads and hot cherry pies?Not because the man at the gun store sold me a clip that would hold only nine bullets. Reloading after nine people is as easy as after 30. For a person in my state of mind, who's really counting anyhow?And not because I caught a sudden glimpse of humanity, seeing all the mommies having lunch with their little darlings. Huh-uh. Not a chance.
I'll tell you why I turned around and went home, the rifle still wrapped in plastic bags in my trunk. I really will. In just a bit.First, let me take a minute to explain myself. Let me tell who I am, and what it took to turn from an Ordinary Person into a monster willing -- wanting even -- to kill other Ordinary Person.
Lots of 'em.
All the berserk killers who went wild one day, the postal workers, the unemployed laborers, the Viet Nam vets, the courtroom murderers, the restaurant homicidal maniacs -- were just Ordinary People one day.
Then they -- like me -- turned into Something Else.
There was a time, you know, when we really were ordinary. We picked up the newspaper, saw a horrible story about a mass shooting and shook our heads. But that was before.
Since then, look at all that has happened:
We've been put down, shouted down, jilted, deprived, ratted on, denied and set aside. The money's gone. The dog's gone. There is no happiness left.We just want to do away with ourselves.
So we stare at the bottom of an empty mug, and ponder life, and fate, and our own humanity. And we find that we have achieved nothing of note, no immortality, no deeds worthy even of the granite slab that will cover our last remains.Whimpering, sniveling, we determine to go out with a bang.
For 15 minutes, we will be Very Important.
In the time it takes to empty two or three clips, we will have impacted more people than we ever did in our entire miserable lives.
Grown men will fear us, women will faint, neighbors will give interviews to TV cameras. We are cleansed of our weakness.
And for a little time, police radios and sirens and red lights will
look just like on TV.
So I went to McDonald's today, armed with an assault rifle, wanting to kill people. I saw you there. Yes you, who now sit there smugly in front of your computer and don't care about me.
I opened the trunk, pulled back the plastic, and looked at the cold black steel and hollow-pointed death. From the pit of my stomach I wanted to kill everyone I could, all those grandma types with the blue hair and the wretched kids who whined because they didn't get the right toy in their Happy Meal.
I looked around, and no one cared.This had all been so easy.
If they cared, I probably could not have purchased this gun, these bullets.
We had grown accustomed to mass shootings, I saw. It was accepted, acceptable, a small price to pay for a freedom.
I knew already what would happen if I went through with it.
Somewhere in California a third-page story would cite a statistic, and in Texas a commentator would be angry, and in Florida it wouldn't even make the news.
And so even pop-pop-popping at McDonald's didn't matter anymore.I guess, for the time being, I did something people did care about. I went home.
I cared -- momentarily.
But, even while you read this, sipping your drink and peering casually at this screen, somebody else is out there buying a gun -- and planning on taking you with them when they go.

Thursday, April 19, 2007



From an early age I have had an unvarnished,

Immoral desire to nourish the obscene flame.

I discreetly burn my anger, fury

Resentments and irritations.

The gravity of the moment was enticing.

It would be perfect, unblemished, flawless perfection.

There was no premeditation as I lit the match.

I stared at its rhythmic dance

Its elegant glare was inviting.

It was such an attractive reflection, captivating.

Don’t you want to feel all that heat?

The smell was aromatic with destruction in mind.

The anticipation of the moment was pure pleasure.

I was unruffled, steady, composed as I watched the flame

Beg for more timber to consume.

I stared with eyes half closed as the smoldering began to flourish.

With one breath, the flames flicker and quickly ignite into

Dazzling, graceful colors of light.

Don’t you want to touch it?

Like a thief in the night I feel repulsive.

I must liberate myself.

I can not take my eyes away.

I watch from a distance as it begins to

Devour, scorch, and obliterate everything it touches.

I felt such gratification, pleasure as the vibrant flames

Danced poetically higher and higher.

The progression was savage, untamed.

Everything in its path is blackened as it spreads out of control.

A million eyes watching

The most sanitary ecosystem.

It contorts, cleanses, annihilates with deliberate devastation.

Things melt, buckle, and dissolve

In an awe-inspiring spectacular, brutal mutilation.

The colors of the flame have their own private messages.

The untamed rage sends out sparks of pulsing chaos.

Don’t you want to reach for it and examine its perfection?

For them it was repulsive, senseless, needless, ghastly deed.

For me it was a bold, delightful, festive, pleasing, and glorious

Display of crimson colored embers.

The twinkles and flashes obscenely

Transformed into pulsating, vibrating disorder.

I feel satisfied, alive as the unrelenting

Radiant flames incinerate the somber night.

Sirens sound intimidating, yet delightful

Causing my adrenaline to spontaneously burst.

The smell was pungent and spicy

Burning my nostrils with rapture.

Its bold, pleasing wrath

Ruins, devastates and withers.

I wanted it to take me and do its will.

As the turbulent flame was extinguished

Things were no longer dirty, grimy, or contaminated.

The land has been purified,

Made hygienic.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Women over 30

Andy Rooney on 60 Minutes said:

As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask,"What are you thinking?" She doesn't care what you think.

If a woman over 30 doesn't want to watch the game, she doesn't sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it'susually something more interesting.

A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in whom sheis, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the ageof 30 give a hoot what you might think about her or what she's doing.

Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant.

Of course, if you deserve it, they won't hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it's like to be unappreciated.

A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her womenfriends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn't trust the guy with other women.

Women over 30 couldn't care less if you're attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won't betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know.

A woman over 30 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They'll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don't ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons.Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellowpants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress. Ladies, I apologize.

For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free", here's an update for you. Nowa days 80% of women are againstmarriage, why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage.

Thursday, March 22, 2007


Depression is a serious disease. It is not anyone's fault, and if you are depressed, you are not weak, lazy, stupid, undisciplined, forgetful, or any of the other things that voice in your head is saying you are. You’re just someone who is having a hard time dealing with things at the moment. The good news is that you can and will recover.

Sadness is a normal part of our lives. Often, we feel sad because of stressful things that happen to us (the death of a loved one, the breakup of a relationship, serious illness, the loss of a job). Depression is sadness that is much more intense than, or lasts much longer than, the ordinary sadness we might expect to feel under the specific circumstances. Also, while we may feel depressed as a reaction to a specific, stressful event in our lives, we can also be depressed even though no "major" stressful event has happened.

One key difference between depression and ordinary sadness is that depression often impairs our ability to function. Depression results from chemical action in the brain, which is why anti-depressant medications can help treat it.
Someone who suffers from depression is said to be "clinically depressed," or to have a "unipolar disorder." Note that a depressed person may not be depressed all the time, but may simply be depressed at certain times. Some people even have depression that alternates with extreme "up" moods: they are said to have a "bipolar disorder," or be "manic-depressive." Even people with a bi-polar disorder may be depressed enough to be suicidal when they are having a depressive episode.

Depression may have a number of causes including:
...the effects of some medications
...alcohol or drug abuse
...certain diseases

Because of this, it is usually a good idea for someone who suffers from depression to see a doctor to make sure that the depression does not have a medical cause.