So i was watching the results show for Dancing with the Stars- flipping through the other shows that were on tuesday night and I saw this dance created by Wade Robson performed- its just awesome!! Circus theme but to watch the way their bodies move is just truely a treat- you won't be able to stop watching

 I tried to embed it but it didn't work for me- so here is the link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLJASCTZ3z0 

 

The very catchy song is "hi" by PSAPP

 http://www.myspace.com/psapp  

International Threat Levels

The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross."

Londoners have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to a "Bloody Nuisance." The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was during the great fire of 1666.

Also the French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Surrender" and Collaborate."

The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability. It's not only the English and French that are on a heightened level of alert.

Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain. "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides."

The Germans also increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose."

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

No- i haven't been friend requesting everyone on the website-

 I agreed to help the team out with something- but forgot it tells everyone every time i am a new friend with someone.

 Which is funny because this is the busiest week of the year for me at work- and i look like a total slacker!!! :D

 

 Which is not to say that if you ARE my new friend I am not totally appreciative of that fact- send me a message- let me know what goes on in your life... your pursuit of happiness

 

:)

Im standing in the bathroom this morning getting ready for work when my grey cat Bubba- a prime example of male cat adolescence- saunters in and proceeded to leave a very large stinky poo in his litter box. He seems to glare at me in satisfaction with his yellow cat eyes as he turns tail and runs out to pounce on his brother Rascal, who is the metrosexual feline in my house and therefore would not LEAVE a stinky poo for me.

 

As Im grabbing the air freshener so I dont have to vacate the bathroom I am laughing about how typically male that action just was. Regardless of the species I believe that men really enjoy their poos. And they like to torture the women in their lives with this love of their poo as well. Dutch oven anyone? (i.e. men who fart in bed and then throw the blankets over their girlfriend/wifes head to enjoy the stench).

 

This would explain why a man sits for an hour on the pot reading a newspaper while women finish their business and quickly get out. Or why female public bathrooms are quite as tombs compared to the noises that can be heard in a males public restroom. (so i hear)

 

I heard on the news that there was a growing popularity for men who were allowing women to stay with them rent free if that woman acted like a wife- basically taking care of the man without all the complications of romantic entanglements. "You cook, clean, pamper me and in return you dont have to pay for rent."

 

So the questions have to be asked: Do women who accept this arrangement debase themselves because of it? Or is it just common sense seeing as how they'd probably be doing all that for a husband/boyfriend anyway. And the men who arrange this service- what is it about them that offers this in the first place? Is cleaning the toilet just THAT bad? Do they just want to make their messes and not have to clean them up or is it that they just want that "mom" figure to be there to take care of them still?

 

Ive also heard the statistics that elder men are twice as likely to get remarried than women are after the death of a spouse or they are twice as likely to follow that spouse if they remain single because they cant stand being alone and uncared for. Is that why women's life expectancy is greater? Do men really need to be nurtured that much in this life?

 

Obviously there are exceptions to everything- so this is only a sweeping generalization based on the observations of a few statistics (but it works for CNN so I can use the same method) but it appears that women are much more adapt at survival than men.

 

I just believe it relates back to the fact that we arent fascinated with our own poo. Could just be me though ;)

All right fellas- this one is for you- this is the checklist I made to see if you were with the right kind of girl. (all in fun- no one get their panties in a twist please)

 

She doesn’t ask what time “your game” starts- she asks what time “THE” game starts- she knows there is only one game- and that you will be glued to it- and she is just as excited

 

She doesn’t get mad when you get lost and tell you to stop and ask for directions- she just realizes its quality time that you two have together

 

She understands that “ditto” or “me too” actually equates to “I love you”

 

“Steak and a BJ” day – the male equivalent of Valentine’s day- is already marked on her calendar.

 

Guys night out is just the excuse she needs to go shopping for shoes- she doesn’t need to know where you are or who you’re with- just that you get home safely and clean up any knocked over plants in the morning

 

She doesn’t ask a question she doesn’t want to know the answer too; i.e. “Does this make me look fat?” or “Can my mother stay with us?”

 

Nothing says “I love you” like sex in the morning

 

She knows when she wears push up bras or low cut tops she negates her right to complain about you staring at her boobs.

 

When you get sick, she makes you soup and gives you all the tlc you could want- just like momma used too

 

She understands chick flicks are something she sees with other chicks BUT if you really want to see one- she won’t tell any of your guy friends so they can call you whipped

 

She doesn’t get PMS – she just calls it “BJ WEEK”

 

OK now its your turn- feel free to add any I missed ;)

"I'M GOING FISHING"
Means: "I'm going to drink myself dangerously stupid, and stand by a stream with a stick in my hand, while the fish swim by in complete safety."

"IT'S A GUY THING"
Means: "There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical".

"CAN I HELP WITH DINNER?"
Means: "Why isn't it already on the table?"

"UH HUH," "SURE, HONEY," OR "YES, DEAR..."
Means: Absolutely nothing. It's a conditioned response.

"IT WOULD TAKE TOO LONG TO EXPLAIN"
Means: "I have no idea how it works."

"I WAS LISTENING TO YOU. IT'S JUST THAT I HAVE THINGS ON MY MIND."
Means: "I was wondering if that redhead over there is wearing a bra."

"TAKE A BREAK HONEY, YOU'RE WORKING TOO HARD".
Means: "I can't hear the game over the vacuum cleaner."

"THAT'S INTERESTING, DEAR."
Means: "Are you still talking?"

"YOU KNOW HOW BAD MY MEMORY IS."
Means: "I remember the theme song to 'F Troop', the address of the first girl I ever kissed, and the vehicle identification numbers of every car I've ever owned, but I forgot your birthday."

"I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU, AND GOT YOU THESE ROSES".
Means: "The girl selling them on the corner had great tits."

"OH, DON'T FUSS, I JUST CUT MYSELF, IT'S NO BIG DEAL."
Means: "I have actually severed a limb, but will bleed to death before I admit that I'm hurt."

"HEY, I'VE GOT MY REASONS FOR WHAT I'M DOING".
Means: "And I sure hope I think of some pretty soon."

"I CAN'T FIND IT."
Means: "It didn't fall into my outstretched hands, so I'm completely clueless."

"WHAT DID I DO THIS TIME?"
Means: "What did you catch me at?"

"I HEARD YOU."
Means: "I haven't the foggiest clue what you just said, and am hoping desperately that I can fake it well enough so that you don't spend the next three days yelling at me."

"YOU KNOW I COULD NEVER LOVE ANYONE ELSE"
Means: "I am used to the way you yell at me, and realize it could be worse."

"YOU LOOK TERRIFIC"
Means: "Please don't try on one more outfit, I'm starving."

"I'M NOT LOST. I KNOW EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE."
Means: "No one will ever see us alive again."

"WE SHARE THE HOUSEWORK"
Means: "I make the messes, she cleans them up."

(note: i wrote this back in October but felt it needed to be shared in conjunction wtih snak's post.. my own take on the bathroom)

I was staring at the back of the bathroom stall door. It was plywood painted green which did not match any of the other colors of the small two stall bathroom. The toilet was too short so I was spending more time looking at the bottom of the door rather than the normal eye level. Janey loves Brad scrawled in marker decorated the back of the door, along with carved initials and several curse words. A lot of angry women sit on this throne.

 

So while I was contemplating the back of the bathroom stall door, I was thinking it might be fun to bare the secrets of the women's bathroom. This shocking expose that rarely gets reported on. I realize that I'm betraying my kind by writing this, but, if I'm not breaking a few rules I'm not having fun!

 

The bathroom is where we can figure out just how drunk we are at the time. The moment of peace where we stop imbibing and can figure out just how many toilet roll dispensers there are i.e. seeing single or double. And of course there is the tell tale sign of just how clear the water is.. if you leave the toilet as clear as when you sit down- you're DRUNK.

 

 Plus there is the ability of how well we hover over the seat if they don't provide those fun little seat covers (which most bars don't). There is art to the hover but it gets sloppier as the night goes on...as do the seats.. it's a never ending cycle.

                                                                                       

The bathroom is our refuge when we're "out" for the evening. It's the place we can bring our girlfriends and talk about the other girls that we like or dislike and the guys that are hot or annoying.

 

The phone conversations also are conducted there when we have no one to bring with us at the time. I have been in the stall next to someone text messaging- now THAT is multitasking! In the early part of the evening the conversations start off with "WHEN ARE YOU GETTING HERE" or " Gary better not be coming because if he does Adam will be pissed" and so on..

 

Those of us who brave it alone are often treated to overhearing quite interesting conversations.

 

"Did you see what Rachel was wearing tonight?"

"Oh I know, that top is sooo not right on her! What does she think? Brad is like soo not going home with her!"

 

OR… a classic I overheard on a phone conversation..

 

"I'm in a bar… with my friends… … what?.......... NO! I WILL NOT HAVE PHONE SEX WITH YOU NOW….. I told you I'm in the bar.. you will just have to wait till I leave for home"

 

..yea… OOOOK THEN!

 

Later in the night, the trips to the bathroom are more frequent. The girls who were on the phone arranging people to come to the bar are arranging for others to come pick them up.

This is when the crying occurs. The drunk emotional girl who has just had enough and the friends that are there to comfort her. A big drunk group hug.

 

Of course, they are blocking the path to all stalls and especially in THIS area, bathroom real estate can be tricky to come by.

 

The TP is dangerously in short supply. Paper hand towels usually get used in lieu of TP. The friendly warning the next in line of the empty rolls, the unfriendly smirking as they move on to the sink.

 

Typically by now a toilet is either clogged or .. unavailable due to the unnecessarily drunk girl who just threw up in it.

 

Crowding to the mirror, almost impossible, but yet it is done by everyone. Get that dab of make up on.. a floof to the hair. Here is where the strangers have the conversations.

 

"Oh I LOVE that blouse!"….. "what kind of lipstick is that?!"

"did you see that girl puking in there?!"

 

I have been flashed boobs several times- helped to re-arrange jewelry or other clothing items- had a friend fish out an ID that she dropped in the toilet-

 

 I have left bathrooms with phone numbers of other girls who want to be my friend and hang out. I have yet to call any of them back.. does that make me like a guy? I don't know... 

Oh yes, the public restrooms, how we adore thee. Our sanctuary of the night.

 

And then there are the conversations like these on the back of the stalls that just make it all worth it and bring it full circle.

 

~~Brenda fu**ed my man

 

~~She fu**ed mine too!

 

~~Who's your man?

 

~~Jayvon- I'll kick her ass

 ~~I'm gonna kick YOUR ass-Jayvon's my man's name!!!!!(This last has to be from Brenda herself)

~~Stop flattening my tires you stoopid hoes- u see hes not no good(And under THAT)

~~And now I'M fuckin him! Trish(And finally)

~~Jokes on all of you- he gave me clamidia!!! Betsie

 

By Gen LaGreca

Michael Moore says he made the film, "Sicko," to "ignite a fire for free, universal healthcare." How absurd is it for someone seeking proper healthcare to take an odyssey to Communist Cuba? That Moore's camera-rolling entourage would receive the same healthcare as a Cuban citizen stretches even a child's imagination. His film should be renamed "Another Celebrity Falls for Dictator's Dog-and-Pony Show."

 

People like Moore believe capitalism is the disease and government takeover the cure for our healthcare ills. They think people have a "right" to free healthcare simply because they need it.

 

If so, why stop at medicine? Couldn't we claim the same "right" to other necessities? Take food, for instance. What if the government seized control of the food industry and fed us for free with a new entitlement, "Foodcare"?

 

Initially Foodcare will empty the horn of plenty into your lap. With your appetite and wallet par ting company, the lobster you ate only on your birthday will become regular fare, as will your favorite Belgian chocolates and filet mignon.

 

Because the same idea occurs to 300 million others, costs skyrocket, and a Foodcare crisis develops. Big Brother can no longer foot the bill for your busy mouth, so he must limit your mastication. This requires new agencies, bureaucrats, and a 100,000-page rulebook.

 

You visit your favorite restaurant to find it changed. Gone are the tablecloths, flowers, and cheerful hostess to greet you, enhancements you had gladly paid for in the price of your meal. The Department of Restaurants eliminated them as frivolous indulgences of the people’s resources.

 

The menu is reduced to a few modest offerings. Missing are the savory specials of the talented chef, whose last creation took forty pounds—not of ingredients but of paperwork—to gain approval from the New Recipe Administration.

 

You want steak, but getting it requires that the chef call a central office to obtain pre-authorization. With the clock ticking and a long line waiting to slide into your barely warm seat, you order hamburger instead. You notice your neighbor eating steak—and sitting at the best table. You remember when he was laid off and you bought him dinner. Back then, he thanked you for your charity and quickly got another job. But now that he has a "right" to food, he's stopped working to eat courtesy of your tax dollars.

 

You barely recognize the frazzled chef buried in paperwork. The once happy figure doting over your every need now slaves for a new master, one that denies his fee for serving Cognac, second-guesses his decision to make cheesecake, requires a Certificate of Need to buy an oven. You know that under Foodcare he's merely biding time till retirement. When he goes, you doubt he’ll be replaced because enrollment in chef’s schools has dropped as the number of bureaucrats hounding them has risen.

 

As time passes, e veryone forgets how it started, but the crisis worsens. Michael Moore makes a pilgrimage to North Korea in search of adequate food.

 

You realize that the amount you pay into Foodcare exceeds what you had paid when you bought your own food and didn't obtain it for "free." Then you didn't pay for bureaucrats and inspectors to tell you what to eat, or for those milking the system like your neighbor. Besides emptying your wallet, Foodcare has drained all the pleasure you once derived from eating.

 

Politicians blame their scapegoat, the capitalists—grocers, chefs, food manufacturers—and pass laws to prevent any from owning a Mercedes while someone goes to bed hungry in America. They tell us profit is evil and free food for all is a moral ideal.

 

You wonder: Is there something wrong with this picture? The ideal isn't the private system, with happy chefs and grocers earning a good living in return for their talent and entrepreneurial skill, and satisfied customers enjoying a Shangri La of affordable food. The ideal isn't a spectacular abundance, with everyone's standard of eating—including the poor—raised dramatically, and this achieved without government force—without fleecing taxpayers and robbing consumers and suppliers of their freedom to make their own personal choices and to interact voluntarily. Instead, the ideal is to transform free, self-determining individuals into state-controlled puppets.

 

The Foodcare scenario is actually playing out in healthcare. Once the gold standard of the world, American medicine has fallen to its knees from decades of crippling regulation, with the final blow about to come from universal healthcare.

To stop this despotism we must repudiate the notion that healthcare is a right. No one has a right to demand for free the goods and services produced by others. We have the freedom to take action to further our own lives—to work, earn money, and pay for the things we need—while respecting the same rights of others. We don't have any right to enact laws to seize people's money, control their activities, and force them to provide services on terms dictated by Big Brother.

No good can result when the means used to achieve it are plunder and coercion. Universal healthcare merits the label "sicko"—or more accurately "tyranny."

Genevieve (Gen) LaGreca is the author of Noble Vision, an award-winning novel about a doctor's fight for freedom in a state-run health system.

As I walk my 2 and a half blocks from my office to the commuter train I take, I pass at least 10 or so people a day walking down the sidewalk with me carrying large pieces of laminated paper with the words "Potomac Mills" or "Tackett's Mill, Woodbridge" among other destinations on them.

A car pulls up on the side.. honks.. and this person jumps into the back or front seat of the vehicle and they speed off-

This is what we refer too as the "Slug lane". The place in the city where people who are looking for rides home stand and wait for the people who are driving to pick them up- why do they do this? Because of the HOV Lanes that impose regulations on how many people must be in a car- "HOV" standing for "Human Occupied Vehicle" OR "High Occupancy vehicle" depending on what city you are in. The rules that must be followed in these are that a number is on the sign designating the amount of people that must be in a car during the HOV times and the times themselves- usually 3-7:30 for rush hour in the evenings.

 For more than 20 years, thousands of D.C.-area solo commuters have engaged in this semi-organized form of hitchhiking designed to cut commuting by half during rush hours.

So what are some of the rules? Sluggers don't speak unless spoken to; they don't talk about money, sex, politics or other controversial topics; they don't smoke, eat, use cellphones or request a favorite radio station.

They don't offer gas money, and there's no door-to-door service. They get dropped off at commuter stations in their designated areas-

Sluggers almost always ride with another slugger or two, and they are encouraged not to leave female sluggers alone on line.However I have seen women jump in cars alone just as men do on my walk to the train.

Its the grass roots answer in this area to the high congestion and bad traffic patterns- and it seem to work well. Even police and officials recognize it and accept it for what it is..and don't consider it "hitchhiking"

 I, personally, don't know that I would be able to do it- but is there anyone out there who has had similar experiences with this kind of commuting?

 

So I'm now going to Prague for 10 days in July! I can't wait.. my sister is studying there for a month at the university for a writer's course (she is a poet) and I'm going to go visit her.

 

Any one have any good stories from Prague? Where to go..what to do? I'm going to buy the book and read up on it of course- but sometimes word of mouth makes for the best recommendations.

 

:)