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This is the first watch that I bought for myself and I remember it was around $250CAD at MACY's Vancouver, BC in 1994(??). It is very special to me. It came with dual strap option. On the strap it said USA Limited. You can see there are heavy wear on lower right of the case due to my first mountain bike experience. The battery actually lasted over 20+ years. (changed its battery the first time 6 month ago). An impressive tough G-SHOCK time piece.
My first G-Shock, a gift from the wife in 1988. Model DW5600 (no letter). This watch has the threaded back, I had to order a special wrench to open it.
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This fashion watch features a hand beaded band in which I've used shiny black onyx cabochons set in lacy antiqued silver plate (over brass) mounts, and lilac stone beads to complete the art nouveau look. The lovely scrolled watch head is also silver plated brass that's been antiqued to a charming gunmetal colour.
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This is representative of the Sparkling fire bra that she wore. Sparklers, watch out for long hair!! She didn't ask for this part - it was a surprise!
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Sturnus vulgaris sunset
Starlings rise and fall in the sunset's last light, digging for frozen grubs and early rising seasonal beetles.
In Praise Of Limestone
If it form the one landscape that we, the inconstant ones,
Are consistently homesick for, this is chiefly
Because it dissolves in water. Mark these rounded slopes
With their surface fragrance of thyme and, beneath,
A secret system of caves and conduits; hear the springs
That spurt out everywhere with a chuckle,
Each filling a private pool for its fish and carving
Its own little ravine whose cliffs entertain
The butterfly and the lizard; examine this region
Of short distances and definite places:
What could be more like Mother or a fitter background
For her son, the flirtatious male who lounges
Against a rock in the sunlight, never doubting
That for all his faults he is loved; whose works are but
Extensions of his power to charm? From weathered outcrop
To hill-top temple, from appearing waters to
Conspicuous fountains, from a wild to a formal vineyard,
Are ingenious but short steps that a child's wish
To receive more attention than his brothers, whether
By pleasing or teasing, can easily take.
Watch, then, the band of rivals as they climb up and down
Their steep stone gennels in twos and threes, at times
Arm in arm, but never, thank God, in step; or engaged
On the shady side of a square at midday in
Voluble discourse, knowing each other too well to think
There are any important secrets, unable
To conceive a god whose temper-tantrums are moral
And not to be pacified by a clever line
Or a good lay: for accustomed to a stone that responds,
They have never had to veil their faces in awe
Of a crater whose blazing fury could not be fixed;
Adjusted to the local needs of valleys
Where everything can be touched or reached by walking,
Their eyes have never looked into infinite space
Through the lattice-work of a nomad's comb; born lucky,
Their legs have never encountered the fungi
And insects of the jungle, the monstrous forms and lives
With which we have nothing, we like to hope, in common.
So, when one of them goes to the bad, the way his mind works
Remains incomprehensible: to become a pimp
Or deal in fake jewellery or ruin a fine tenor voice
For effects that bring down the house, could happen to all
But the best and the worst of us...
That is why, I suppose,
The best and worst never stayed here long but sought
Immoderate soils where the beauty was not so external,
The light less public and the meaning of life
Something more than a mad camp. 'Come!' cried the granite wastes,
"How evasive is your humour, how accidental
Your kindest kiss, how permanent is death." (Saints-to-be
Slipped away sighing.) "Come!" purred the clays and gravels,
"On our plains there is room for armies to drill; rivers
Wait to be tamed and slaves to construct you a tomb
In the grand manner: soft as the earth is mankind and both
Need to be altered." (Intendant Caesars rose and
Left, slamming the door.) But the really reckless were fetched
By an older colder voice, the oceanic whisper:
"I am the solitude that asks and promises nothing;
That is how I shall set you free. There is no love;
There are only the various envies, all of them sad."
They were right, my dear, all those voices were right
And still are; this land is not the sweet home that it looks,
Nor its peace the historical calm of a site
Where something was settled once and for all: A back ward
And dilapidated province, connected
To the big busy world by a tunnel, with a certain
Seedy appeal, is that all it is now? Not quite:
It has a worldy duty which in spite of itself
It does not neglect, but calls into question
All the Great Powers assume; it disturbs our rights. The poet,
Admired for his earnest habit of calling
The sun the sun, his mind Puzzle, is made uneasy
By these marble statues which so obviously doubt
His antimythological myth; and these gamins,
Pursuing the scientist down the tiled colonnade
With such lively offers, rebuke his concern for Nature's
Remotest aspects: I, too, am reproached, for what
And how much you know. Not to lose time, not to get caught,
Not to be left behind, not, please! to resemble
The beasts who repeat themselves, or a thing like water
Or stone whose conduct can be predicted, these
Are our common prayer, whose greatest comfort is music
Which can be made anywhere, is invisible,
And does not smell. In so far as we have to look forward
To death as a fact, no doubt we are right: But if
Sins can be forgiven, if bodies rise from the dead,
These modifications of matter into
Innocent athletes and gesticulating fountains,
Made solely for pleasure, make a further point:
The blessed will not care what angle they are regarded from,
Having nothing to hide. Dear, I know nothing of
Either, but when I try to imagine a faultless love
Or the life to come, what I hear is the murmur
Of underground streams, what I see is a limestone landscape.
The Rise of Daubenspeck's Zombie-Ninja Conundrum
Some years ago while I lived in Asheville, North Carolina, my merry band of friends were doing what they always did: get into heated and heady geeky discussions.
It was during a session when I believe my good friend Daniel Daubenspeck put forth two bits of information that seemed (in the mind of a former math-lover like myself) to be the beginnings of a proof those two bits of information being (assuming pop-culture hasn't lied to us):
1) Ninja in smaller quantities are a far more formidable force than ninja in larger quantities. Great examples of this could be the Ninja Turtles vs. the Foot Clan, the Bride vs. the Crazy 88, or Batman vs. the League of Shadows. In all cases, the smaller group always wins as the overwhelming numbers of the other group tend towards impeding the flow of combat, even to the point of assisting the "protagonists."
2) Zombies in larger quantities are always more formidable than those in small quantities. This is a scenario that goes without saying. Really you just have to watch George Romero's movies to see this play out. Heck, even "Shawn of the Dead" or "Zombieland" illustrate this point as well. Granted of course you don't get between Woody Harrelson and a Twinkie. The zombies almost ALWAYS take over the world through whatever infection they may have. And they ALWAYS survive.
So given those two bits of information...if pitted against one another...could they conceivably reach a point where the number of ninjas and the number of zombies canceled each other out? Effectively reaching a stalemate?
When I posed what I am now refering to as "Daubenspeck's Zombie-Ninja Hypothesis" to my friend Landon Bellavia, a graduate student with a Bachelor's in Physics, some interesting flaws in the original hypothesis were broached.
In his own words (bare with it now, it gets heady):
"Additionally, not to be a kill-joy, but I believe there may be a flaw in the logic behind such a hypothesis. The argument relies on creating an unstable equilibrium open to perturbation on the local level that impacts the global level. Mathematically speaking, having one direct relationship and one inverse relationship creates a “saddle” probability potential. Think of trying to place a marble on a saddle…yes it has an equilibrium position in the very middle where it will rest indefinitely, but the slightest perturbation sends it plummeting to one side or the other.
To illustrate, if the ninjas manage to destroy a single zombie, the overall zombie power level declines, and assuming ninja group power is dependent on their absolute numbers and not their numbers relative to the enemy, the ninjas gain the advantage and eventually win. Conversely, if the zombies manage to kill a single ninja, this decreases the number of ninjas and increases their strength, again causing the ninjas to win. Assuming both sides hold to the rules of game theory to determine the eventual winner, and assuming such a stalemate could be generated, a single ninja would deliberately sacrifice himself to empower his allies to defeat the zombies.
The only way to prevent a perturbation of the equilibrium is to have a homogeneous distribution of zombies and ninjas at all times interacting so quickly as to disrupt each other’s attacks before they can happen. However, in creating this homogeneity, you deprive the ninjas of one of the key factors in their strength: their mobility. While this could be done in a computer simulation (which would have the zombies win unless the relative strength factor is adjusted to compensate for the ninjas’ loss in power), I challenge you to find any ninja that will just stand still and fight zombies.
Thus, while it may be possible to establish a stalemate of a fashion described by Dan’s Zombie Ninja Hypothesis, mathematically speaking during a dynamic simulation with “realistic” constraints on subject behavior (assuming the reality of zombie movies and TMNT), at one point in time, a perturbation will arise in the system that leads to the inescapably conclusion that ninjas will win."
Thus the Bellavia Corollary to Daubenspeck's Zombie-Ninja Hypothesis is born. Simply stated "...in dynamic systems, unless zombies begin with immediately overwhelming numbers, the ninjas will win." This principle also assumes you can have percentages of either group (though that's not unheard of with zombies really, all missing limbs and stuff).
And so you have Daubenspeck's Zombie-Ninja Conundrum.
I now leave it to the geeks of the world to it duke out. Have fun!
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The Malayan Tiger (Panthera tigris jacksoni), exclusively found in the southern part of the Malay Peninsula, was not considered a subspecies in its own right until 2004. The new classification came about after a study by Luo et al. from the Laboratory of Genomic Diversity Study, part of the National Cancer Institute of the United States. Recent counts showed there are 600–800 tigers in the wild, making it the third largest tiger population, behind the Bengal tiger and the Indochinese tiger. The Malayan tiger is the smallest of the mainland tiger subspecies, and the second smallest living subspecies, with males averaging about 120 kg and females about 100 kg in weight. The Malayan tiger is a national icon in Malaysia, appearing on its coat of arms and in logos of Malaysian institutions, such as Maybank.
The tiger,a member of the Felidae family, is the largest of the four "big cats" in the genus Panthera. The tiger is native to much of eastern and southern Asia, and is an apex predator and an obligate carnivore. The larger tiger subspecies are comparable in size to the biggest extinct felids, reaching up to 3.3 metres (11 ft) in total length, weighing up to 300 kilograms (660 pounds), and having canines up to 4 inches (100 mm) long. Aside from their great bulk and power, their most recognisable feature is a pattern of dark vertical stripes that overlays near-white to reddish-orange fur, with lighter underparts. The most numerous tiger subspecies is the Bengal tiger, while the largest is the Siberian tiger.
Tigers have a lifespan of 10–15 years in the wild, but can live longer than 20 years in captivity. They are highly adaptable and range from the Siberian taiga to open grasslands and tropical mangrove swamps.
They are territorial and generally solitary animals, often requiring large contiguous areas of habitat that support their prey demands. This, coupled with the fact that they are indigenous to some of the more densely populated places on earth, has caused significant conflicts with humans. Three of the nine subspecies of modern tiger have gone extinct, and the remaining six are classified as endangered, some critically so. The primary direct causes are habitat destruction, fragmentation, and hunting.
Historically, tigers have existed from Mesopotamia and the Caucasus throughout most of South and East Asia. Today, the range of the species is radically reduced. All surviving species are under formal protection, yet poaching, habitat destruction, and inbreeding depression continue to threaten the tigers.
Tigers are among the most recognisable and popular of the world's charismatic megafauna. They have featured prominently in ancient mythology and folklore, and continue to be depicted in modern films and literature. Tigers appear on many flags and coats of arms, as mascots for sporting teams, and as the national animal of several Asian nations, including India.
Tigers typically have rusty-reddish to brown-rusty coats, a whitish medial and ventral area, a white "fringe" that surrounds the face, and stripes that vary from brown or gray to pure black. The form and density of stripes differs between subspecies (as well as the ground coloration of the fur; for instance, Siberian tigers are usually paler than other tiger subspecies), but most tigers have over 100 stripes.
The pattern of stripes is unique to each animal, these unique markings can be used by researchers to identify individuals (both in the wild and captivity), much in the same way that fingerprints are used to identify humans. It seems likely that the function of stripes is camouflage, serving to help tigers conceal themselves amongst the dappled shadows and long grass of their environment as they stalk their prey. The stripe pattern is also found on the skin of the tiger. If a tiger were to be shaved, its distinctive camouflage pattern would be preserved.
Like other big cats, tigers have a white spot on the backs of their ears. These spots, called ocelli, serve a social function, by communicating the animal's mental state to conspecifics in the gloom of dense forest or in tall grass.
Tigers have the additional distinction of being the heaviest cats found in the wild. They also have powerfully built legs and shoulders, with the result that they, like lions, have the ability to pull down prey substantially heavier than themselves. However, the subspecies differ markedly in size, tending to increase proportionally with latitude, as predicted by Bergmann's Rule.
Large male Siberian Tigers (Panthera tigris altaica) can reach a total length of 3.5 m "over curves" (3.3 m. "between pegs") and a weight of 306 kilograms,. This is considerably larger than the sizes reached by island-dwelling tigers such as the Sumatran, the smallest living subspecies, with a body weight of only 75–140 kg. Depending upon subspecies tigers may be 1.4-2.8 m (4.6-9.2 ft) long from along the head and body, while the tail may add a
Andrew Symonds brings gusto to whatever he does, whether firing down offbreaks or mediums, hurling his ungainly bulk round the field or vigorously ruffling the bowler's hair at the celebration of a wicket. He saves his loudest grunt for his batting, where he is that rarest of modern-day creatures - an unabashed six-hitter in the mould of a George Bonnor or a Colin Milburn or a David Hookes. Batting for Gloucestershire at 20, he scythed 16 sixes in the first dig [a world record] against Glamorgan at Abergavenny, 20 for the match [another first], and then announced he couldn't care less about the milestone; he wanted only to help his team. He has been matter-of-factly demolishing attacks ever since. His flaw has been to attempt one six too many - invariably off the wrong ball.
"I used to hate watching him bat," his old coach Toot Byron once lamented. "He wasn't in control of his shot-selection ... he'd get 24 off an over and then go out on the last ball of that over." Legend has it that Symonds, a dreadlocked Queensland larrikin, once turned up barefoot and wearing a cowboy hat for a contract meeting with Cricket Australia's then-chief executive Malcolm Speed. He also graciously ruled himself ineligible for any award at the 2006 Allan Border Medal - he would have been the One-Day Player of the Year - after being suspended for turning up drunk before Australia's embarrassing loss to Bangladesh on the 2005 Ashes tour.
During almost five years in and out of the one-day side he frittered away golden opportunities galore. One day changed everything. Striding out with his team in turmoil against Pakistan in the 2003 World Cup, a game and tournament he never expected to play in, Symonds sculpted a masterly 143 not out in 125 balls. Until that day, he had mustered just 762 one-day runs at only 23; ever since he has averaged more than 45 and become a hero to the masses. "In the past," he admits, "I was a man without a map when I went out to bat." Now he understands his one-day role perfectly - he could have claimed to be the side's most valuable player after pounding three hundreds and taking 21 wickets in 2005-06. His impact to the limited-overs outfit was shown the following season after he ripped a tendon from his arm playing a fierce drive. Without him the team strled to its worst losing streak in a decade. Symonds proved he was an incredibly quick healer by entering the World Cup mid-tournament and was part of his second consecutive triumph.
Born in Birmingham, Symonds could have played for England but dreamed only of wearing the baggy green. In 2004 his fantasy was fulfilled in decidedly unGabbalike surroundings: the crackling minefields of Sri Lanka. He batted gamely without looking altogether comfortable, and was dumped after two Tests. Almost two years later he received an extended run as Australia's selectors searched for an answer to Andrew Flintoff, but he couldn't consistently mirror his one-day performances. Faced with the axe, he cracked a huge six at the MCG to open his scoring in a pressure-relieving 72 from 54 balls, which included a ground-record five maximums, but was dropped on the Bangladesh tour after strling for reliable impact in the previous series against South Africa. Given another opportunity when Shane Watson was injured and Damien Martyn retired, he appeared in his first Ashes series and reached a career high in his second game with 156 at the MCG. Batting with his fishing friend Matthew Hayden, he showed he had the mindset to make it.
The past year has been easily his best, with 777 runs in nine Tests against Sri Lanka, India and West Indies. The high was an unbeaten 162 in the first innings at the SCG, which was quickly followed by the low of a lengthy race row involving Harbhajan Singh. The problems did not prevent him becoming the most popular overseas player at the Indian Premier League auction, where he sold for US$1.35m, and he had four games with the Deccan Chargers. After the tournament he switched back into five-day mode and a pair of half-centuries in the tight opening contest with West Indies showed his growing batting maturity and sense of security at Test level. By the end of the campaign his average was a respectable 44.65. However, his off-field attitude continued to be a problem and the last straw came when he went fishing in Darwin when he should have been at a team meeting in the lead-up to an ODI series against Bangladesh. Symonds was sent home from the series and not picked for the tour of India in late 2008, although he declared himself keen to return to the top level via state cricket.
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The Young And Flawless .Four.
I woke up and found that Seth's arm was locked around me, I wanted to get up and tell him to go home and change but part of me said enjoy the moment. I had to agree with the second part of me because I liked to watch him sleep, he was so peaceful. I loosened the grip on his arm trying to not to stir his deep sleep, but it was too late. Seth shoot up almost falling out of the bed and would if I hadn't caught him.
"Wha-what's wrong?" He asked grabbing my shoulders as his eyes blinked many times to keep focus. I giggled at his messy hair and tried to flatten it out.
"You should go home and take a shower and meet me at The King's Grill for lunch," I smiled as he turned his back on me and slipped and his shoes. I locked my arms around his shoulders leaning on his back. "Are you going to speak?"
"Yeah, I'll met you there what time?" He asked scratching his head and smiled slightly back at me.
"It's ten now so how about twelve?" I sested and he nodded walking to my door. I cleared my throat and smiled as he ran back over to me bed. He gave me a quick kiss and was out the door. I fell back smiling and kicked my feet. He was mine at last, I jumped up and my hands shot in the air. A spark-or something rather bright-escaped from my hand. I examined my hands and stumbled over to the mirror. I was wearing a totally different outfit, my little black number was no where to be found. I was now wearing kaki kapris and a light blue shirt it was all to big on me.
A scream sounded from downstairs and I followed it emmedietly, but when I found out who the scream was from I wished I hadn't. My mother was now wearing my little black number and I was wearing her big blue and kaki number.
"What the hell was that?" My mother asked wide eyed. Her hands were shaking and I could see that she had dropped her salad bowl. I couldn't speak partially because I really didn't know what was going on and also because the outfit didn't fit her style at all. "I said what the hell was that?"
"I don't know...here have your clothes," I said stripping down to my undergarments.
"No...Sabrina we're having company over," She hissed pointing to the red van outside.
"Fuck," I cursed and then covered my mouth as she crossed her arms. "Sorry, then hurry get down and we'll change quickly."
I grabbed my back dress and pulled it on quickly and she did the same. "Isn't it funny how crazy stuff happens to us?"
"I guess but I have to take a shower and meet Seth at the King's Grill at twelve," I said helping her up and kissing her cheek before zipping up the steps. I jumped into the shower real quick and scrubbed my hair, by the time I finished my shower, got dressed, and fixed my make-up it was eleven-thirty. I rushed down the steps and grabbed my mom's car keys.
"I'll be back later maybe three or four, if you need the car just call me okay?" I asked while she served Mrs. Silverman a plate of my her famous diet omelete.I rolled my eyes and ran out the door to the car. I started the ignition and was on my way.
**Later At The King's Grill**
"Hey," I smiled hing Seth as he stood up from our table to greet me. I inhaled his fresh springy smell, and sat down in the seat across from him.
"What do you need to talk about? You sounded in a rush on the phone when you called," He asked holding my hand.
"Well when you left I was...um happy because you kissed me and I shot up with my hands in the air and all of the sudden I was wearing my mother's clothes!" I hissed in a whisper so no one could possibly hear except for Seth. He stared at me.
"Did you see a form or a spark...something like that?"
"Yes well I think I did," I tried to explain the brightness and the color of the glow but I only saw it for a split second.
"Okay I only ordered fries and soda's so we can finish up here and go back to your place and then talk about this...power your gaining."
"Power?" My voice cracked in excitment and Seth nodded slowly. "Holy...crap I get powers?"
"Shhh, you're sounding like a freak," He laughed as people turned their head to us. Seth's face got red, "Great, just what we need; attention."
"Oh my god, I love your higlights where did yo get them done?" A girl about my age ran up to me asked. I grinned and looked over at Seth.
"Oh...I got them done when I went to England last week," I lied as her bright expression changed.
"Oh okay...well thanks anyways," She walked away frowning. I turned back to Seth and shurgged.
"What did I say?" I asked and he was still staring at her.
"Did you even smell her? She's a vampire...but don't worry your sense's will catch on Sabbs."
"Ew can't believe you still call be that," I smiled taking a bite into the fry. Seth watched me eat silently. "Wa
The end of an era. The last routemaster bus was taken off the road in London during december 2005. For some unknown reason, this one was parked close to the braehead shopping centre.
The Routemaster was the last bus to be wholly designed by London Transport. The first examples of the 1950's design were to complete the replacement of the once large London Trolleybus fleet. Built between 1958 and 1968, it was the last open platform bus to enter service in London and was designed for a 17 year life. Some 50 years after its first appearance in 1954, around 820 examples of this popular and famous London bus still exist in the British Isles out of the 2876 built in total. There are a further 470 elsewhere in the world, according to the latest figures (Jan 2006).
However, at the time of writing, the RM has been phased out of front-line service, finally leaving the streets of the capital on 9th December 2005. All 20 routes have been converted to modern vehicles since August 2003. Today, in 2006, the Routemaster has definitely become a legend in its own right. It remains a symbol of London and the buses that have been released from service are being sought by people all over the world and they are now in many of the world's major cities.
All all that remains in London are the two Heritage Routes, run by a remaining fleet of 16 refurbished RMs on short, central London sections of the 9 and 15 routes.
Waiting for the Bus
All along the road from Bulawayo
to Gwanda or Matopos or Vic Falls;
at bus-stops, lay-bys, under shadeless trees,
the people wait beside their bundled things.
All day long they wait, and sometimes all night
too, and the next day – anxiously waiting.
Waiting for the public transport to stop
and let them in and take them home. Waiting
with babies to nurse, children to comfort
and feed, chickens, the occasional goat.
They have learned to come prepared, with blankets,
izinduku, pots for cooking sadza.
Waiting for ZUPCO or SHU-SHINE, AJAY,
to get them to their Uncle's funeral,
their cousin's wedding, their baby brother's
baptism. Waiting with the new Camper Vans
cruising by. Anxious to be at work on
time. Anxious not to lose their jobs. Waiting.
They take their time now not by wrist-watches
but by the sun and the stars and the moon;
by the appearance of the mopani worms;
by the ripening of marula fruit;
by the coming of the rains. Not by bus
timetables but by birth, marriage and death.
And while they wait they count the jets that fly
to Harare and Johannesburg.
Liverish businessmen sucking whiskies
are in these jets. And Chefs with mistresses
wearing the latest digital watches,
Digital dolly-birds. All carry brief-
cases with combination locks, and next
to nothing inside: dark glasses perhaps;
and a newspaper to study the Stock
Exchange; something digital, perhaps, for
calculating profit . . . and more profit.
It's something for people to do while
they wait – counting the jets high overhead.
Often the vapour trails are the only
clouds in the sky. No Forex for buses,
They tell us, but the five-star hotels go
up, and another Boeing is purchased.
All day they wait; all night; long suffering.
And when, at last, a bus does stop, its tyres
are likely to be bald, its brakes likely
to be held together with wire, its body
battered, belching clouds of brain-tightening,
lung-collapsing smoke. Who's responsible?
"Not me," says the Chef dipping his fingers
in his girl-friend's cocktail, shifting his vast
belly, vast enough to accommodate
at least seven baby goats. "Don't look at
me," says the Managing Director, "my
bottom line is profit. I owe it to
the shareholders. Another whisky please."
And I don't think it is going to be any
different tomorrow or the next day
or the next. The time of sweet-becoming
is over. For those millions who depend
on buses, nothing has changed; only their
expectations have once again been dashed.
The time of bitter arrival is here:
not safe new buses, but the amassing
of personal wealth, the cultivation
of another crop of heroes. Street
names change, statues change; hotels go up, jets
go up, and the people go on waiting.
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LARGE INVICTA WATCHES. INVICTA WATCHES
Large Invicta Watches. Timex Watches For Men. Watch Chuck Versus The Cougars.
Large Invicta Watches
The Latest Addition to My Collection
Best viewed Large for greater detail.
"Invicta Venom" This is one massive timepiece - 52mm! The photo doesn't do the color of the dial justice. It's a bright yellow. I love it!
I've really been bitten by the Invicta bug hard! I love thier products. I highly recommend them. Very, very affordable and great craftsmanship.
Extreme Close Up
For extreme detail, view in large size. Taken with my new macro lens. I just love the detail the lens shows!
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9/20/11 BLACK MAN REVEALED HIS WHITE HATE TOWARDS AT ME @ COPY SHOP
9/20/11 BLACK MAN REVEALED HIS WHITE HATE TOWARDS AT ME @ COPY SHOP. (this is NOT about "all blacks" nor most blacks, nor really about blacks at all,,it just happens to be a hater who is black...one of a small segment here in los angeles who have disproportionate evil effects)...so I sit down at this copy shop...where I come periodically...first, I copied a few things..then I went to the laptop station..they have free wi-fi..& I had to do a few things online...& this black guy is on his laptop..& as I sit down..as is NORMAL..my eyes glance both ways,,,making sure ALL IS CLEAR to sit down..but this guy thinks I'm "Looking at his screen"..as if I care what he's doing on his laptop...and as usual (for this part of los angeles) him being black (& apparently semi-homeless, albeit w/ a laptop & some computer proficiency) & me being white he tries to intimidate "white boy"..beginning w/ 4-letter verbs etc...& I surprise him with the same 4-letter words in response (which is actually an intentional theological response which I've developed..& absolutely stuns some of these fellows who rely on intimidation to get what they want) ..in essence I "mirror" his garbage talk..telling him "I don't f--k--g care what you're doing on your f--k---g laptop"..it takes him a while to register what's going on..I tell him "did u think u could intimidate stupid white boy?" ..he doesn't know what to say.. ...& on & on the conversation goes ..I add "Jesus loves u"..& he says "I don't care about your f--k--g Jesus" ...& I say, "Oh I am so hurt..you ruined my day"...ya ya ya..& then he reveals his absolute insane bias against white people indicating he does consider himself Christian but doesn't believe in the "white man Jesus" ..& this really highlights a LOT of the sentiment in some people..so much hate towards people of another race that they even think that "our Jesus" (ie "White Jesus") isn't real or isn't "their Jesus" ..its quite revelatory..most people are too "clever" too reveal such biases..^ he's surely not the only one who thinks this way (there's a LOT of great african-americans in the usa & around the world who are our brothers & sisters in Christ, but there's also a segment of black people who truly believe that the true Jesus is the Jesus only of black people...I've seen & felt & observed this sentiment around los angeles here & there) ...so I told him near the end of the conversation (the only part I caught on tape) ..that he's clearly prejudice against white people ( surely he would not have acted the way he did towards me if I was black) ..I tell him to go back to his "cardboard box"...& he says "you better watch out or you'll be in a cardboard box pretty soon" ...& he repeats it (making it clear he's talking about a coffin...in essence its a barely veiled death threat...sick stuff..that's how these guys operate & it's not far-fetched..people have been killed for lesser things around los angeles...so by this time I'm packing up my stuff ...& I tell him "Death doesn't scare me, my friend, when I die it means a better place for me.." & he further reveals his hate..saying "Id be scare to go where u r going..wherever that may be"...he instantly had pre-judged me as bad the moment I sat down..having never met or talked to me before ..& even "my Jesus" wouldn't change his mind about me..he knows the true Jesus (apparently only the black Jesus, or Jesus for semi-homeless black men like him, leads to eternal life)...this is the stuff I periodically encounter around los angeles.. for those of u who believe in a Jesus that saves ALL PEOPLE regardless of race, color, ethnicity...please PRAY 4 ME & the situation here in L.A. its a crisis that nobody is talking about & this little incident is a reminder ..
9/20/11 BLACK MAN REVEALED HIS WHITE HATE TOWARDS AT ME @ COPY SHOP
9/20/11 BLACK MAN REVEALED HIS WHITE HATE TOWARDS AT ME @ COPY SHOP. (this is NOT about "all blacks" nor most blacks, nor really about blacks at all,,it just happens to be a hater who is black...one of a small segment here in los angeles who have disproportionate evil effects)...so I sit down at this copy shop...where I come periodically...first. I copied a few things..then I went to the laptop station..they give free wi-fi..& I had to do a few things online...& this black guy is on his laptop..& as I sit down..as is NORMAL..my eyes glance both ways,,,making sure ALL IS CLEAR to sit down..& this guy thinks I'm "Looking at his screen"..as if I care what he's doing on his laptop...and as usual (for this part of los angeles) him being black & me being white (& semi-homeless, albeit w/ a laptop & some computer proficiency) he tries to intimidate "white boy"..beginning w/ 4-letter verbs etc...& I surprise him with the same 4-letter words in response (which is actually an intentional theological response which I've developed..& absolutely stuns some of these fellows who rely on intimidation to get what they want) ..in essence I "mirror" his garbage talk..telling him "I don't f--k--g care what you're doing on your f--k---g laptop"..it takes him a while to register what's going on..I tell him "did u think u could intimidate stupid white boy?" ..he doesn't know what to say.. ...& on & on the conversation goes ..I add "Jesus loves u"..& he says "I don't care about your f--k--g Jesus" ...& I say, "Oh I am so hurt..you ruined my day"...ya ya ya..& then he reveals his absolute insane bias against white people indicating he does consider himself Christian but doesn't believe in the "white man Jesus" ..& this really highlights a LOT of the sentiment in some people..so much hate towards people of another race that they even think that "our Jesus" (ie "White Jesus") isn't real or isn't "their Jesus" ..its quite revelatory..most people are too "clever" too reveal such biases..^ he's surely not the only one who thinks this way (there's a LOT of great african-americans in the usa & around the world who are our brothers & sisters in Christ, but there's also a segment of black people who truly believe that the true Jesus is the Jesus only of black people...I've seen & felt & observed this sentiment around los angeles here & there) ...so I told him near the end of the conversation (the only part I caught on tape) ..that he's clearly prejudice against white people ( surely he would not have acted the way he did towards me if I was black) ..I tell him to go back to his "cardboard box"...& he says "you better watch out or you'll be in a cardboard box pretty soon" ...& he repeats it (making it clear he's talking about a coffin...in essence its a barely veiled death threat...sick stuff..that's how these guys operate & it's not far-fetched..people have been killed for lesser things around los angeles...so by this time I'm packing up my stuff ...& I tell him "Death doesn't scare me, my friend, when I die it means a better place for me.." & he further reveals his hate..saying "Id be scare to go where u r going..wherever that may be"...he instantly had pre-judged me as bad the moment I sat down..having never met or talked to me before ..& even "my Jesus" wouldn't change his mind about me..he knows the true Jesus (apparently only the black Jesus, or Jesus for semi-homeless black men like him, leads to eternal life)...this is the stuff I periodically encounter around los angeles.. for those of u who believe in a Jesus that saves ALL PEOPLE regardless of race, color, ethnicity...please PRAY 4 ME & the situation here in L.A. its a crisis that nobody is talking about & this little incident is a reminder ..
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07 Bratz The Movie Signature Collection 1 (clown waitresses)
Cloe (left) and Yasmin.
I never saw the movie nor really wanted to, so it was handy that there's a pic on the back of the box that includes a scene with the core four dressed like this. Otherwise I would have forever wondered, where the idea for those adorable costumes came from! :-)
A Little Faster!!!
From teh Ben ten movie alien swarm!!!! sowy for the intermitions, i recorded it on my camera that doesn't have sound, so i had to get the track and place it in!
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WATCH GOL TV LIVE. WATCH GOL
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Day 18 - 090731 - Tvinndefossen-Gol-Tv. (348km)
The first of my optional round trips starts with taking a ferry along Aurlandsfjord to L?rdal and then following roads #52 and #7 back to Voss.
Die erste meiner optionalen Rundtouren beginnt mit einer Fahrfahrt entlang des Aurlandsfjords nach L?rdal und folgt dann den Stra?en Nr. 52 und Nr. 7 entlang nach Voss.
Hunter's TV Commercial
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Hand with Phone
EDM Challenges 10 & 13: A hand and a phone. This brief impression while watching TV reruns, of someone answering an old-style cell phone. The head looks a bit too Manga. The hand is as close to how I remember it as I could get.
sittin on a park bench
To send out 2007 in style, my clones came out to play!
My 2nd attempt at cloning.
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"MUST SEE" VIDEOS FOR ARTISTS...
The above heading offers a variety of inspirational videos that are among the best i have seen. Follow the link below to view the various videos offered. I am not associated with this site and have listed it for informational and inspirational purposes. Thanks, robert
1971 U-Bahn München Nordriedhof Ausgang süd -heute MAN-Gebäude-
U-Bahn Munchen Nordriedhof Ausgang sud . Blick die Ungererstrasse stadteinwarts, das Haus mit der "Cinzano"-Reklame ist seit 2007 abgerissen (war auch das bohmische Lokal "St. Wezel" drin) und hier steht die Hauptverwaltung der MAN.
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On the third day in Paris I went to shops around the underground station Madeleine. This are some really expensive shops. Those chocolates look great, but I'm not rich so I didn't buy anything.
"Back when this story began, Clementine and Auguste Rouzaud, a chocolatier's daughter and a mine inspector's son, had just decided to take over a little chocolate shop in the spa resort of Royat, in the Auvergne.Auguste fell in love with chocolate. He tested, measured, mixed, smelled and compared, creating both innovative techniques and astonishing flavours.At his side, Clementine focused on selling these new creations by word of mouth. She sent a box of their finest chocolates to Edmond Rostand, whose play was being performed at the casino de Vichy at the time, and who was staying at the Pavillon Sevigne.
And a trademark was born... "A la Marquise de Sevigne"!"
WORLDS MOST EXPENSIVE HAND SET
GoldVish Switzerland handsets made of 18 carat gold (of pink, yellow and white colors) and decorated with diamonds of highest quality WS1 cost from 22 to 127 thousand euros. Besides, the Russians will have the opportunity to buy the most expensive handset put into the Guinness Book of Records. GoldVish Piece Unique costs 1 mln. euro. GoldVish design has been developed by Emanuel Gueit, who has also designed a range of models for watches and jewelry
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363. Live in a victorian house
I know its been FOREVER since Iv done a 365 but I have things in mind for my last few shots and my tiny turtle was one of them.
Well anyway. I dont think youve missed anything too terrible exciting. Ryan and I went and saw 50/50, I really liked it. Iv been at Ryans for a couple days now, just hanging out while I dont have to work too much. Iv pretty much just been working. I need to work more on my costume but I was sick for like a week and a half and I sort of just got out of it. I wish I had more to talk about but I really dont think Iv done anything worth talking about lately. Today we went and bought Monster (my tiny turtle) a 10 gal tank and a basking lamp, I hope its what he needs. Hes a cool little guy, Im quite fond of him. Apparently hes illegal lol but that just makes him cooler.
Iv had a lot on my mind. Im stressed about money mainly. I work and I make a fair amount of money but its like I cant get my hands on enough for a car all at once, I need a loan lol. Its frusterating because I really need this car... I need a second job but I cant get anywhere, I need to move out but I cant get anywhere. It just makes me tired thinking about it. Iv been thinking about other things too but Im trying not to, I cant make it a big deal. But Im scared about it.
For now its all fine, things are good despite a few finacial stresses and annoyances but thats just part of what Im going to have to go through in order to get to where I want to be. Im low on options. Everyone always says that I can just go back home, that its ok to try and fail and need some help from family but honestly Iowa is not an option for me.. because I know what will happen if I go back, and I refuse to let that be my life. So Ill strle for awhile. Im pretty happy really, I like my job and the people I work with and when Im not working I get to hang out with my best friend. OH! I almost forgot! Ryan and I got Dead Island!!! Its sooo much fun!
Well Im out of things to say. Im off today, just watching Sons of Anarchy and waiting for Ryan to get off of work so we can eat, Im starved. I work fairly early tomorrow, I hate working mornings. Blah.
Sticky note. I love victorian houses, I think they are so beautiful. The big windows, the huge porches, the stair cases. I love it. I remember going to a victorian house in school for something or another and I thought it was so neat. I loved how the stair case was the center of the house and all the rooms had doors and circled the stair case. But my favorite thing is the porch, the wrap around porch :)
You're scaring me to death
Why is it that I can never verbalize what I want to say. I want to talk about things, I want to be able to explain emotions. But I can't. I freeze up. Every thought that I have about what I wanted to say immediately disappears. I can't do it.
And i hate it
No I’ve never seen you like this,
And I don't like it
I don't like it
I don't like it at all
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