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This is a thought on the study of Home and Away Games, The Best Team Always Has the Advantage. Predators and Prey; The Hunters and The Hunted. Recently Rumsfeld asked his brightest commanders to come up with strategies to combat Islamic Extremists Terrorists. Here is an idea. Set up a couple of Humvees, which would drive at normal speed a head of a van, which had interior 1" steel walls. Drive the Humvees in front and use remote control to draw fire. Put mannequins in the Humvees. And a Big America flag to piss them off. The van will have SWAT Team Special Forces. When the humvees are shot at stop them and the van unloads and surrounds the area from the rear and special forces shoot each one between the eyes, cut off the heads stick them on the posts out front of the houses where they were found and just get back into the van and drive around again. Hunt the terrorists like the prey that they are. Turn the tables. The hunters become the hunted. The hit and run games of the past turn into a simple way to draw fire as a marker of you’re immediate and next target. At night sneak around in fatigues with special teams. Gore-ill the Gorillas. Use UAV helicopters to get in close a spook them. Use ELF to put them to sleep. Use RF to make them piss. Pull out all the stops to kill them. The triangle is not our Devils Triangle it is their place to meet Allah. Let them come to the triangle in large numbers from throughout the region and slice and dice. To fight this war we need to be the hunters. Play to win, get serious and let the boys have some fun, they have been practicing urban warfare for months on end, they are ready to rock and roll, the weather is going to get more livable, so after Ramadan and Christmas let's load the place up with the toughest son's of bitches in this country. The tough guys, Special Forces, the guys who know who they are and who know how to win. Hunt them down one by one. Mercilessly. They want to fight, show them hell on Earth. Cut throats, cut off their penis, shove it in their mouth and decapitate. I bet things change real fast. They want to fight and live in the year 3000 BC, show them what they are missing. This hit and run sissy stuff cannot be tolerated. If you want to win a war you have to take the will of your enemy out of the group. Let's do it. We need several hundred such plays as the one described above to deploy, like a football team, mixing up the plays, different each day, different special teams, different methods all with one idea in mind, the goal line. I am sorry if some people reading this think it is too extreme, I believe weak people succumbing to political correctness while our guys get picked off and lawyers determine targets is just dumb. I suppose the enemy is lucky that I am not in charge. There would be hovering apache helicopters over the horizon, just waiting lines up and armed to the hilt and we would be running these plays and hunting like big cats in the night, all night, every night, every holiday, every second, day and night, no rest for the enemy, until every last one is slaughtered. No mercy, no prisoners, no bull sh_t. Of course the Democratic Presidential hopefuls would be so disappointed in me. But let's get real here. The war is over, these people just don't get it. Jihad? G-Wizz? It might be time to start sending some of these heads back to the countries where they are coming from. Cruel and Unusual? We should never fight evil with our hands tied behind our backs. This hide and seek, hit and run, drive and crash needs to turn into pray and pay, lead and be-head from the air and land. Get tough and win. This rhetoric of oh no what do we do now on TV is ridiculous. Either we have the balls, brains and Braun or the liberal anti-American guest stars on the nightly news are right. Which is it? A fighter pilot has rules, in war they are different. "Never give a sucker an even break, take the advantage and cheat." So far this is what they are doing. Yet those are our rules of engagement and conflict. We are letting them run our plays and sitting around wondering what we should do? The political correctness has gotten out of hand and into the battle area. How can this be? How can we have done this to ourselves? Shoot back, hunt them down, and attack. We have all the advantages, use them. Just a thought, a single perspective and observation. What do you think? enhancement free penis pills sample pnis enlargement pills review penis elargement stretcher penis enhancement video free penis enlarement video manual penis enlargment exercise best enlargement exercise pennis vimax penis enlargement pic before and after enlargment manhattan penis surgeon

Most men over the age of 50 are liable, according to statistics, to get prostate cancer. For American men, about 300,000 new cases are diagnosed each year, and some 35,000 men die of this disease annually. The numbers are increasing as well. This article is all about simple ways of keeping your prostrate healthy. What is the problem? The prostate is a chestnut-shaped gland and organ that sits right below the bladder and is wrapped around the urethra. Other than closing the urethra during erection, the prostate has nothing to do with a man’s urinary system. The prostate is needed for ejaculation, as the ejaculate passes through the same urethra as the urine does. The prostate gland’s basic job is to add special fluid to the sperm before it exits the penis during ejaculation. This is why the prostate sits below the bladder, and also why prostate problems interfere with a man’s ability to urinate and to have sex. The prostate is affected three ways: 1. infection 2. enlargement 3. cancer What are the problem’s symptoms? For infection (called prostitis) there is a great deal of pain, fever, and uninary problems. There are medicines and conventional therapies, however following the dietary rules below are very beneficial for prostitis. Englargement (known as BHP or benign prostatic hypertrophy) is a non-cancerous enlarement of the prostate. The symptoms are hesitancy in urinating, dribbling of urine before and after urinating, frequent urination, straining to start the stream, urgency of urination, and getting up several times at night to urinate. Cancer of the prostate symptoms are quite the same as BHP and many men are quite unaware they have cancer of the prostate, as there are often no symptoms at all. A PSA test done every 6 months is now a necessity for every man over 45. What can be done about it? Actually a lot. Diet and stress appear to be the main culprits. Here is a list of “do eat” and “do not eat” that is quite time tested. Eat the following lots of fresh vegetables and fruits, legumes (peas, beans, and lentils). fresh fish. And especially fish from cold ocean waters (such as salmon, sardines, mackerel, and cod) have large amounts of essential fatty acids. whole grain in moderation, rather than refined (white) breads, pasta, crackers, rice, and other grains. Dont eat the following fatty meats, fatty meats, excess of salts, hydrogenated oils, such as those found in margarine, donuts, cookies, cakes, other desserts, potato chips, and other deep-fried foods. canned, packaged, or otherwise processed foods, sodas, alcohol, black teas (which includes most iced teas), or coffee, and dairy foods, especially if they have been pasteusterised. Are there Special Foods that Can Cure the Cancer? Perhaps; and this is still a subject open to debate,but chilli peppers have been shown to inhibit the cancerous cells of the prostate. There was a study done recently at UCLA in California which indicate as much. Also there are several herbs and food additives known for their beneficial action on the prostate. They are: •Saw palmetto: This herb is now well-known to shrink enlarged prostates and to lower PSA.. •Green tea: The catechins found in green tea are the likely “medicines” for the prostate, although it is not known exactly how they prevent or combat existing prostate cancer. The usual dose is no less than 6 cups per day. •Pygeum: Pygenum has been used to treat diseases of the prostate and urinary tract for many years. •Nettle: The Nettle is rich in vitamin C, iron, and other proven nutrients that bolster the prostate. •Kelp: This is seaweed, and plentiful in iodine and contains minerals that help to prevent and treat prostate cancer. Asian men, with high doses of kelp in their diet (than American men) have a much lower incidence of any prostate problem. If you follow the above you will have and keep a healthy prostrate. vimax homemade penis enlargement vimax penis enlargement secret vigrx penis enlargement pill manual penile enlargement exercise penis enhancement review penile enlargement surgery result review vig rx herbal natural penis enlargment enlargment manhattan penis surgeon

22 March, l968 As it turned out, Johnny would visit Jill’s room off and on during the following weeks. And that strange woman that left the Belmont’s room brought along another woman, and on occasion, he’d catch her on her way down the steps and invite her into his room, although she’d had preferred ‘Jill,’ so she said. Tasma was not aware of most of this, but a little. Also, she had received at this time several letters from home by her parents, in particular her father, but she did not respond back. She was not certain what to say, she loved them, and Jill assured them she was fine, but it was too stressful for her to talk or write them. She did have a profound desire to please her father, and wishful thinking to please her mother, but it seemed she needed to learn how to please herself first, and to Jill, she did not blame them for anything, not anymore anyway. And had she started a communicational dialogue, they may have persuaded her to return, the one thing she did not want at this time. —Jill was in the kitchen—the ironing board was pulled out from an inner-cabinet built into the wall, a wall-unite if you will, it was kept snugly in, in which there was a door attached to it; Jill was ironing Tommy and Johnny’s cloths, another lover circle had stared. Both were arranged in separate piles. Mrs. Belmont was sitting at the table talking seriously to her; it was most unusual thought Tasma, for seldom did she see Mrs. Belmont other than at the bar talking to Jill. As Tasma neared them to join them, the subject—whatever it was—changed, and what appeared on Mrs. Belmont’s face was an un-cheerful smile, not unusual, but quite sudden, and it was apparent. Consequently, feeling a little awkward she left the kitchen to work on her diary-novel (some poems), in the living room in her usual spot; in effect, she could overhear bits and pieces now of their conversation. It didn’t occur to her to get up and leave, rather the opposite; she actually pretended to be busy writing and was simply drawing a picture undiscernibly. “It’s been going on for a while mom, I didn’t think it was, I mean it would end up like this.” “Get rid of him, or all of them.” “No, no, I don’t think Johnny will go so easy. He likes me, and thinks he can have me, and he has me of course.” “What about Tommy?” “I like him, I like him a lot, but that’s the problem, I don’t love him, I just like him.” “He’s what you need though. He’s more anchored.” [With scorn] “What the hell does anchored mean!” said Jill. “Ok, ok, I could have used a better term, Tommy likes to work and go to school, he’ll be somebody someday.” “Tommy doesn’t pay you a dime; Johnny does and Johnny works hard.” “Yes, he works hard all right, hard at drinking, screwing you and god knows who else—smoking that weed.” “So Tommy was screwing me and working.” “You’re going to lose him to that cousin of yours if you don’t hang on to him.” “Tasma,” she looked at Tasma reading, “you got to be kidding, she’s as naïve as a sparrow.” “So you say: does a pineapple come from a pine tree?” “No,” said Jill apprehensive, “now what does that mean?” “She’s not the little girl she was three, four months ago, or is it five or more? She has a good shape, and pretty face, and if Tommy can’t see it, I can. And so can a lot of men at the bar. Anyhow, Tasma is not the issue, Johnny and Tommy are.” (A long pause came, then with a cracking voice, and an almost whisper, she leaned over to her mother, and Tasma leaned over the arm of her chair): “I think I’m pregnant…” “Ay caramba,” she said in a sigh that slurred all the way to Tasma’s ears, “…now what?” “It’s Johnny’s, not Tommy’s, Tommy uses a rubber, and Johnny thinks it is not manly to do so.” It was momentarily hard for Jill to look her mother in the face; she was at this time, pacing the floor in a small circle as her mother followed her with her eyes. “Listen Jill, Johnny’s drinking with all the gang members at the bar, and he’s gambling, it’s just a matter of time before he gets in trouble with them.” (Some of the gang members had motorcycles, others cars, it was somewhat an unofficial bunch of criminals, in that they were but twenty of them that hung out at a number of bars). 23 Shan’t be a Minute Tasma found herself walking upstairs to her room, it was quieter in the kitchen, and figured, she had heard enough, a voice said, “Where are you going?” it was Jill, polite but to the point. “Shan’t be a moment,” was her answer. She wanted to tuck away her diary-novel, she had written some exposing things in it. And so she tucked away, under her pillow, as if it was safe, and her place was off limits to others, which in presumption it seemed to be. For the most part, she did not want to leave it laying about for someone to pick up accidentally. Life had seemed uncomplicated she thought, and now with Jill’s mother it seemed somewhat speculative, if not downright disjointed. It had now crossed her mind Tommy would find out the secret, the secret being Johnny’s behavior and her being pregnant, or so she said she was, and ‘I know about it,’ she felt as if she was a betrayer, be it to Jill or Tommy, or even Johnny. Down the stairway, into the living room she went. She looked outside through the bay-window and there was Mrs. Alice Whitehead getting into the car, she looked at Tasma, Tasma waved at her, she was a nice old lady, and it always seemed to her she had concern on her face for her. As she turned around looking towards the kitchen she noticed Mrs. Belmont sorting out bills: ‘I suppose she’s done talking to Jill now,’ was her thinking. “I talked to your mother a few days ago Tasma, she’s doing well and I told her likewise, you were doing well.” Tasma simply made a polite gesture, no verbal adjectives. “I want to do something today, a surprise, come with me,” asked Tasma, for some odd reason something had popped into her head. “What, may I ask, is on that devious mind of yours?” laughed Jill. —Tasma and Jill were gone for several hours, and arrived back home at about 6:00 PM. Johnny and Tommy were sitting in the living room watching TV. As they both walked into the house, both the boys were somewhat taken back a bit at Tasma’s appearance—if not down right, star-struck. Her long reddish hair was cut to where it reached only the nape of her neck. And she was wearing more makeup than she had before, the result: she looked a little fresher and less school-girlish, than before. Thought Tommy, ‘…before she seemed more delicate and fragile..,’ as he glanced at the poise she displayed as she smiled and stood in the middle of the room awaiting the verdict of the two young throbbing hearts, the heart breakers themselves. Johnny noticed her slender bones, and her nicely shaped neck was more defined (front and back). Tommy for some reason noticed her neatly-set breasts, small as they were—just above her small waist they were a hand full no more. Yet her slyness somewhat removed, still left her with a harmless effect. Her nervousness was repressed for the most part. Along with all that, with all the money she had saved up, she also purchased some bath salts, talcum powder and a small mirror, which she duplicated for Jill as a gift for allowing her to stay. She had spent her $100-dollars she had saved. For some odd reason, Tasma had glanced back into the kitchen, expecting to see Mrs. Belmont, but of course was not surprised when she was not there, she usually would go to the bar around this time, either she had missed her, or she was in her room preparing to go. The boys looked at one another in jest, and laughed. Said Johnny with his normal side joking way, “So now you’ve grown up, welcome to the real world kid, looks like you’re willing to join us.” Tasma knew Johnny’s ways and knew that was better left alone. “It makes you feel good,” commented Jill; meaning spending money on oneself for preservation purposes, or simply for a change in one’s life. But there was concern in Jill’s unseen eyes, in her cerebellum. She was no psychologist, like Skinner or Pavlov with his salivating dogs (who worked on association), but the boys were kind of salivating, restlessly slobbering might be a better way of putting it, if not downright uneasy, with this new Tasma look. Everyone had gone to bed now, it was Jill’s turn to sit downstairs in the sofa-chair for once, wondering, thinking, not sure of her next move. ‘I just don’t get it,’ she asked herself, ‘why am I so attracted to Johnny, and going with Tommy? Tasma wouldn’t have the answer even if I asked her, nor mom, facts are facts, feelings are feelings, I don’t sense they are neither right or wrong, they just are. Johnny makes love as if he was a mad man and seems almost barbaric, and I think of him when I make love to Tommy—it’s just unthinkable. I wonder how Tommy’s new book will turn out. Can you love two people at once, at one time? A good question; I think I do, or maybe it is lust, how do I know, I’m just…(pause) will be nineteen in a month. Mom said: love is a choice. I say love is a feeling. I wonder what Tasma would say. I know Tommy feels love through his penis, like Johnny, all men do, kind of, sort of—most of the time; but Tommy is more willing to be dedicated, I think. I have learned men are attracted by looking, but I like touch.’ On her way to her bedroom, she stopped at Tasma’s room, knocked lightly, “Can I come in just for a moment?” she asked. “Why sure you can,” answered Tasma with a thoughtful voice. “I had a great day with you today, and thanks again for the things you bought me (this was a good lead-in she thought to bait her for a question to be soon asked), but I have a question, somehow I think you’re going to oversimplify the answer but I’ll ask it anyhow. How do you know if you’re in love with a person?” Surprisingly, Tasma answered Jill with foreknowledge, “You mean you are having a hard time trying to figure who you want, Tommy or Johnny?” (A tight look went over Jill’s face.) “Yes, yes, that is where I’m coming from; I didn’t know it was so obvious.” “It’s becoming obvious Jill, it was the first day Johnny came through the door, and it has progressively taken a greater shape to it. But in regards to your answer, I’ve never been in love so I might be the wrong person to ask, but I do know this, as simple as it may be: if I wanted to go out with Johnny, I couldn’t be in love with Tommy—that much. I mean, I’d think whoever you were in love with—you’d not want to go out with anyone else; you’d kind of want to stop shopping around for another person, or so I believe. If I was to get married, I’d not want to go out with anyone else: and if I did, I’d know that I was not ready for marriage, to him or anyone, if that makes any sense.” But to Jill it made all the sense in the world. She was sleeping with Tommy at night, and wanted to be with Johnny. “What do you think I should do?” asked Jill. “I think you already know; I don’t think I need to say anymore. My heart is with you, no matter what the outcome is.” Then Tasma hugged her tightly. 24 Reset As the next two weeks passed a kind of silence took over the house, people talked less to one another, I suppose you could say, Jill was the life of the house, and now she was deep in thought. Everyone tried to keep busy and pretend things were normal, but they of course knew they were not. The Belmont’s kept their normal schedule, and the pretense lingered. Tasma had finished up with Tommy’s book on San Francisco, and had explained to him how she liked the ending of ‘Bustling,’ by his fake name Colleen Grant; she commented to Tommy: “The younger woman fell in love with the older man, but she had psychological issues, and she was too fragile for him to care for her emotional illness, and he was too sick biologically for her to care for him. It was a sad ending I thought, but had they married: love would not have been enough, as they wished, they’d both had ruined the life of the other. Yet they remained friends as they parted, matter of fact they remained friends until he died at the age of eighty-years old, and her, at eighty-two.” She then read a poem she was working on for him: “I haven’t put it in my book or diary yet, but here it is I’ll read it to you from the paper (Tommy sat inquisitively on the edge of her bed): The Maiden from Seattle When she walked into the light The door to life, grew black as Night, And her earth began to swell (This youthful beauty of Seattle); At first glance— Fell this youth from high Aching to touch the morning sky. Who dare take this maiden’s hand? To help her though this silent land! Ah! From hair, to heart, to breast: Like faded flowers in the ground Fleshless alms, could not be found, And so she remains—bound! Said Tommy in surprise, “I like it, I think a little or maybe a lot of you is in the poem; I think you’re going to be a Mrs. Plath, or Dickinson some day.” —The following day Tommy had come into Tasma’s room unexpectantly, “Are you still writing your story?” he asked. She looked at Tommy, “Just some poems, and dairy notes, really haven’t gotten into the plot or theme of anything in particular yet; not sure how to get it going.” “Let me see, maybe I can help you” he said. Yet Tasma was still bewildered of his rudeness to just kind of enter at will; she liked him and didn’t want to scare him away, on the other hand, she was not going to join any love-circle. She leaped quickly to her pillow, then it dawned on her, she had much information in it about Johnny, Jill, Tommy and, none other but the: The Lady in Black, as she referred to her in the diary. But had she not jumped, she thought afterwards, had she not jumped she’d had not given away her hiding place, although it was no vault for sure—I mean, a mouse could have found it had it looked for it. “I, I have too many personal things in it, private things, I’d rather you not see,” said Tasma as she currently held the book in the middle of her chest; as she got off the bed with her one knee, fully turning about now, she tripped on her shoe and the book fell, Tommy quickly grabbed it and opened it. Tasma saw him reading it, and needed to do something quick, she grabbed it out of his hands and jumped on the bed, her dress flying above her waist showing her underwear and all. Somehow Tommy found the child in him, and jumped on her bed trying to grab the diary from her as they rolled around in the bed; now Tommy hovering over her, his legs between hers. “What are you two up to?” questioned a voice in the background, it was Jill: she had heard the ruckus. “My fault, I was trying to get her diary from her, I started to read something quite interesting,” he looked at Jill halfheartedly. Had he gone back any farther, thought Tasma: The Lady in Black was there. Jill looked at Tasma in an indefatigably way, “I see I wasn’t invited to the party—”and slipped off to her bedroom where she just looked out the window aimlessly. In a way it didn’t bother her about what she’d seen, but on the other hand, she was jealous. When Tommy left the bedroom to join Jill he didn’t know whose child it was; he had only read up to ‘I overheard her say to her mother she was pregnant today by….” He could not ask Tasma to betray Jill, it would be too much to ask, if anything, Jill might be betraying him, it was indicative of her. —In the following days, Tasma noticed Tommy and Jill fought quite a lot; and Tommy was not a person to be irritated easily, it must be that she was leading Tommy to believe it could be his child, Tasma thought. Then one evening she noticed Tommy sleeping on the coach, and Johnny still remaining in his bedroom. During this interval, Johnny entertained himself in his bedroom, hoping Tommy and Jill would sort things out—thus he remained in kind of a queue, waiting for Jill’s signal to return, somehow he had come to that conclusion she would. He found himself pacing the floor at night, saying, ‘I wish, whatsitsname, would…’ and never ended the sentence. —I must make this awkward at this point, his mind broke off the subject of Jill and Tommy after the first week, his insides became external. He looked at himself, pretending he was not feeling this serge; he had not guessed at this until it engulfed him, there was stern on his face—and, toil in his hand. A cold shower might work he thought, but it was too far away. He felt he was on a fast run; he hardened his body like a weightlifter, a boxer ready to take a punch. This lasted two weeks, finally an agreement came about, Jill would sleep with Johnny, and Tommy would sleep in Johnny’s room, and in due time Tommy would have to leave, approximately in a few months, considering once she started to show it would only provoke issues within the household, or so she felt. The real problem was that Johnny did not have the heart to tell Jill he liked the way things were, and he really liked Lorie to a higher degree. He wanted his sex, but could find it elsewhere if need be, now he’d have to resort to living in her bedroom, and his alone time would be altered. In addition, Lorie was somewhat out of the picture for he had not seen her in weeks as he waited for this all to settle, but he’d see her again is what he was planning. Again, everything seemed in the air now. But to resist the plan would be too premature at the moment he deliberated out. In spite of the tension, things appeared to move about on a regular base for a few more weeks. However, Johnny was starting to hang out with the gang more often now, with their motorcycles, and customized old cars. He was doing a lot more drinking and gambling with the gang members. They had even stopped on a few occasions at Jill’s house looking for Johnny, taking pains to find him, going out of their way it would seem. It came to her attention; Johnny owed them money, how much it wasn’t said (but it was close to $6,000-dollars). They’d not go to his work; it was one thing the groups forbid: that being, to endanger a man’s livelihood was not being a man at all. They could do almost anything else, even kill you, but not jeopardize your job: that was considered a low blow. Out of nervousness, Tasma started to keep her distance from the group at the bar, if she could, she would have vanished into thin air.