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David Sniezek, Dr.
Advanced Medical Rehab & Pain Ctr
Welcome to Advanced Integrative Rehabilitation Medicine and Pain Center. We are as integrative health practice with facilities in Washington, DC and McLean, Virginia. Our practice is a unique blend of conventional and complementary therapies that is patient-centered and utilizes safe and evidence-based treatments. Our focus is on our patients, who they are, how they live and what their personal goals may be as well as on how lifestyle impacts illnesses, injury and chronic medical conditions. In like manner, believing that two hands are better than one, we utilize traditional Western as well as Oriental Medicine approaches to similar conditions.
With 30 years of practice experience, David P. Sniezek, DC, MD, FAAMA is a Washingtonian Magazine "Top Doctor" in the field of Rehabilitation Medicine. His practice is a unique blend of conventional and complementary medicine using a safe and evidence-based approach customized for each individual. We offer patient centered care that is tailored to achieve your personal needs and goals. Our focus is on who you are, how you live and what your personal goals may be as well as on how your lifestyle impacts illnesses, injury and chronic medical conditions.
We are a consultative service working with your physicians to incorporate appropriate healing modalities into your health and wellness plan. Treatments may include physical medicine and rehabilitation, pain management, osteopathic and chiropractic manipulation, medical acupuncture, physical therapy, nutrition, exercise therapy, traditional allopathic medicine, and trigger point injections. Our holistic approach is evidence-based and scientifically validated.
We also offer specific programs in Integrative Medicine, Pain Management, Integrative Cardiology, Acupuncture Oncology (Adult and Pediatric), and Women's Health, including Medical Acupuncture for Infertility.
Located across from GW Hospital and Foggy Bottom Metro


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The North East firm has hired two Eversheds partners, an assistant and three property support staff.
Construction partner Jonathan Marshall and property partner Roger Nankervis have both moved from Eversheds' Newcastle office to join Ward Hadaway in Newcastle. Marshall becomes Ward Hadaway's third construction partner. He has experience of both contentious and non-contentious construction matters.
Marshall said: "This is a fantastic opportunity for me. It's a promotion in the sense that I'm heading a unit." He asserted that Ward Hadaway was well placed to weather any regional economic fluctuations and said that the firm was concentrating on its regional base and would grow with the region.
He has brought some clients with him to Ward Hadaway, but would not disclose names. Marshall started work at the firm on 5 November. He said: "I already have a full desk, ranging from dispute work, a PFI project and some non-contentious development work."
Nankervis had been a partner at Eversheds for 12 years. His practice concentrates on property development work. He will be joined at Ward Hadaway by plot sales executive Ann Wardle and plot sales assistants Helen Fidler and Elaine Bains. The non-legal recruits will handle high-volume plot sales work on behalf of housebuilders.
Eversheds assistant Andrew Talbot has joined former colleague Paul Christian in Ward Hadaway's corporate finance team. Christian left Eversheds earlier this year. Another new recruit to the commercial department is assistant Andrew Talbot, who has moved from Bowcock Cuerden in Cheshire.
Managing partner Jamie Martin said: "I'm delighted to welcome everyone on board at a particularly exciting time for Ward Hadaway. These are very significant appointments for the firm, giving additional strength to our commercial and property teams."
Eversheds loses key staff to thriving Ward Hadaway
The North East firm has hired two Eversheds partners, an assistant and three property support staff.

subset: commoncrawl


text: Hey everyone, I need some advice on a particular situation. So I'm in college, just finished my first year. Last year I got a new 17 inch MBP. The thing is a beast. However, it has become a little too big to fit in my backpack with all my books and doesn't always fit on the desks (I know, poor planning). I also have a 2008 15 inch macbook pro (the first unibody model I believe). I saved up and bought it myself but it's become a bit old. It has a 2.4 core 2 duo with 4gb ram and a 250GB hard drive. It still functions, but it has its problems every once in a while that make me somewhat nervous. Now I want to use a smaller laptop than my 17inch to bring to classes but I'm not sure whether to sell the old 15 inch MBP and get a MBAir or not..Another option is to try to make the 15 inch Pro a little more usable, but I'm not sure how much more can be done (besides replacing the battery). Thanks for all the help! PS. I wasn't sure whether to put this in the MBP or MBA section so feel free to move it.


text:
Quick & Easy Crochet Magazine
by: Pocketmags.com • 25
All Android applications categories
by: Pocketmags.com • 25
...contemporary home decor projects; detailed, easy-to-follow instructions; designs for everyone from beginner to the experienced crocheter. Each issue is full of enough projects to provide you with hours of crocheting enjoyment.
This is a free app download. Within the app users can purchase the current issue and back issues.
Subscriptions are also available within the application. A subscription will start from the latest issue.
Available subscriptions are:
12 months (4 issues)
-The subscription will renew automatically unless cancelled more than 24 hours before the end of the current period. You will be charged for renewal within 24 hours of the end of the current period, for the same duration and at the current subscription rate for the product.
-You may turn off the auto-renewal of subscriptions through Google Play Account settings, however you are not able to cancel the current subscription during its active period.
Users can register for/ login to a pocketmags account in-app. This will protect their issues in the case of a lost device and allow browsing of purchases on multiple platforms. Existing pocketmags users can retrieve their purchases by logging into their account.
We recommend loading the app for the first time in a wi-fi area.
If you have any problems at all please do not hesitate to contact us: firstname.lastname@example.com
Tags: crochet magazines , simply crochet magazine , quick and easy crochet magazine , quick and easy crochet magazine cool weather projects , quick and easy crochet , quick & easy crochet magazine , quick & easy crochet magazine , list of crochet magazines , free crochet magazines
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Hotel Cruise is a business & congress hotel located just outside Como, at a short drive from Como's magnificent lake and at 2 minute drive from the new Sant'Anna Hospital. This 4 star superior design hotel is situated in Montano Lucino (Como) near the Como Sud exit on the A9 highway a...
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Hotel Cruise is situated in Montano Lucino (Como), 10 minutes drive from the city of Como, two minutes from the highway A9 Como-Sud exit, in the middle of the important crossroads between Milan and Lugano (Switzerland) and close to Milan Malpensa International Airport.
Hotel Cruise, opened in 2006.
The property is easily accessible from the following places:
• Como's new Sant'Anna Hospital - 1km (based in Via Ravona - San Fermo della Battaglia, Como)
• Como Sud exit on the A9 motorway: 500 m. (2 minutes by car)
• Train station Grandate – Breccia: 500 m. (we recommend you book a transfer from this train station to the hotel)
• Train station Como S. Giovanni: 5km (10 minutes by taxi)
• Malpensa International Airport: 35km (40 minutes by taxi)
• Lugano-Agno Airport (Switzerland): 30km (30 minutes by taxi)
• Linate Airport: 60km (50 minutes by taxi)
Nearby cities / landmarks:
• Como: 5km – 10 minutes by car
• Cernobbio (Villa Erba Congress Centre): 13km - 15 minutes by car
• Milan: 40km – 40 minutes by car
• Lugano-Agno (Switzerland): 30km – 30 minutes by car
• Fiera Milano (Rho Pero Fair Ground)– 40km – 40 minutes by car
Complimentary car parking
AC Hotel Milano is located in new business & fashion district of Milan, well connected to downtown and international airports. 159 rooms and 4 technical equipped meeting rooms with natural daylight are available to host events from 10 to 100 people


text:
(CNN)Look away if you've seen enough sunsets.
The skies above Sydney put on a spectacular show for locals this week -- and millions more who were bombarded with the spectacle on social media.
But these were no ordinary sunsets.
A number of factors created the stunning sights, according to Mohammed Nabi from the Australian Bureau of Meteorology.
"The combined effect of calm weather conditions under the high pressure system, the high cloud in westerly winds over Sydney and the angle of incidence of (sunlight) at this time of the year" all helped, Nabi said.
So did smoke from a government burn-off.
During cooler temperatures, the NSW Rural Fire Service carries out controlled "hazard reduction burns" to remove fuel to minimize the risks and damage caused by bush fires.
They did it last weekend in parts of Sydney and the nearby Blue Mountains. "Smoke released from the burns and trapped in the lower part of the atmosphere will help enhance the effect, albeit temporarily," Nabi said.
The NSW Rural Fire Service advised residents to keep their windows and doors shut to prevent smoke from entering their homes. Those with respiratory problems were also asked to minimize outdoor activities.
According to Nabi, the high pressure system is forecast to remain over the southern half of the Australian continent for the next few days.
So Sydneysiders still have time to take a photo.


text:
For the obvious reason.
VR porn to be offered as room service in Las Vegas
It was inevitable, really.
A newsletter a day keeps the FOMO at bay.
Porn site bans all North Carolina users over anti-LGBT law
XHamster's spokesperson says the site believes in equality for everyone.
Virtual reality and pornography: An X-rated debate
Two Engadget editors go tit for tat about the technological kingmaker.
Pornhub is streaming skin flicks in virtual reality
A new category on the site promises to work with both mobile VR and the likes of Oculus Rift.
You can now binge on porn with T-Mobile's Binge On
MiKandi is the first adult video provider that won't count against your Un-Carrier data cap.
Indonesia blocks Tumblr because it hosts pornography
'We must ban the site first and tell them later,' an Information Ministry official tells the BBC.
A first-hand quest for the future of sex, Part 2: Mission diverted
Forget VR. The greatest love of all involves teledildonics and plenty of lube.


text:
Animals in Medieval Art
Italian Peninsula, 1000–1400 A.D. Italian Peninsula, 1000–1400 A.D.
"A Medieval Bestiary": The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, v. 44, no. 1 (Summer, 1986) "A School of Romanesque Ivory Carving in Amalfi": Metropolitan Museum Journal, v. 9 (1974)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art Guide provides a comprehensive view of art history spanning five millennia and the entire globe.
Experience the best of human creativity from every corner of the globe at The Met.
Explore highlights of the collection through a variety of tours.
The easiest way to see what's happening at The Met every day—wherever you are.


text:
When we received Advent's PQG9002 PC in the office, I was prepared to be moderately impressed. After all, a Quad Core Phenom backed by 4GB of RAM, a 640GB hard drive and an ATI Radeon 4350 for £519 might not be stellar, but would still appear to be decent value.
The first thing I did, being an inquisitive type, was to undo the screws and slide the left side panel off, which required a bit of force. This led to the discovery that the CPU's fan draws in air from outside through a plastic heat-tunnel attached to the left panel, a nice touch that worked well when I encountered a similar shroud on the Dell Studio XPS.
Good points continued with a passively-cooled Foxconn motherboard, fanless Radeon 4350 graphics card, and a competent-looking CoolerMaster fan over the Phenom X4 9150e (which runs at a modest 1.8GHz). At this stage you're probably thinking what I was: the PQG9002 is going to be one very quiet machine, despite its extra 80mm case fan and 80mm PSU fan.
Unfortunately, any such illusions were immediately dispelled when I switched the PC on. And not just for me either; people on the other side of the office were wondering aloud who had turned the air-conditioning on. To put it simply, this small, innocent-looking PC is the loudest non-gaming machine we've had through the labs in years, and it appears that the CoolerMaster fan, of all things, is mostly to blame.
Nor do the PQG9002's problems end there. Advent has only made the barest of token gestures at cable tidying, though to be fair it's nothing that will affect air-flow. Getting the side panel back on the case is also a major pain, and requires a lot of experimenting before you get the 'trick', something more suited to a Chinese puzzle than a PC.
i think the fan loudness is to do with a rogue bios setting somehow. i recall having an advent t11 that spent the first year of its life in silence. then, after taking it to a free tuneup (will never do that again), it came back very noisy. originally the fan throttled back and only went loud after a certain (rather high) temperature. but that setting seems to have disappeared. couldn't find it again.
We checked the BIOS to see if we could alter the fan settings but no luck - and the system should come preconfigured at its most silent anyway, since many consumers who buy this kind of PC won't even know what a BIOS is.
a bit of a tangent...
my Dell desktop Studio XPS - recently purchased - sounded like someone doing the hoovering with a full bag, I gave Dell grief, they swapped out the rear fan etc, all to no avail. By and by I chanced upon a BIOS update on the Dell support page, guess what, they have remapped the fan, its much quieter now.
(at least your readers know what the BIOS is!)
@Martin Daler:
Thanks for the interesting and useful info. You may want to add this to the enthusiastic discussion surrounding the Studio XPS Desktop (http://www.trustedreviews.c....
(We would definitely hope so ;)
More information -
Trusted Reviews is part of the Time Inc. (UK) Ltd Technology Network
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This step is noncompulsory but will seriously boost your chances of getting interest from other over 50s members on the site. Type a little about yourself, your pasttimes and upload your nicest photo of yourself.
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text:
ED Magedson – Founder
Ripoff Report
Guardian Financial100 A Walnut Street Suite 192 Chaplain, New York U.S.A.
Guardian Financial ripoff, when I ask for a refund they called me a stupid "B****" Chaplain New York
Does your business have a bad reputation?
Fix it the right way.
Corporate Advocacy Program™
I am in the process of rebuilding my credit I recieved a call from Guardian and that this would be a great way to establish a positive credit line. I allowed them to take $249.00 from my account. I tried to call for a refund but only received bad attitudes and lude comments. Anastacia Houston, Texas
This report was posted on Ripoff Report on 08/17/2004 07:29 AM and is a permanent record located here: http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/guardian-financial/chaplain-new-york-12919/guardian-financial-ripoff-when-i-ask-for-a-refund-they-called-me-a-stupid-b-chaplai-104025. The posting time indicated is Arizona local time. Arizona does not observe daylight savings so the post time may be Mountain or Pacific depending on the time of year.
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text:
I barely remember...Mature
...what happened when it got really late, I was so drunk. But in the mornin' I nearly shit my pants wonderin' what my Ma would say. An' I did end up bein' sick.
I'd slept on Big Al's couch in the back room and it must have been the afternoon when he finally came down stairs. He took one look at me, grunted, and started makin' breakfast. Boy did he know how to cook. He made the most delicious breakfast, home made cornetti with home made marmalade inside an' a coffee, black as sin. He gave me a plate too and told me to eat with a nod before devouring his plate.
I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout my Ma back at home, she was probably gettin' the rollin' pin ready to beat me upside the head as a welcome.
"Got you down kid?" he grunted, half way through his food, "I went to a lot o' trouble to make that an' you just gonna leave it?"
"Sorry Al," I hadn't realise how sore my throat was. My tongue felt like it was moving through sandpaper. "Just, I forgot to go home," Al just chuckled.
"I spoke to your Mother last night, scary woman, I told her you'd probably stay over to help me out," he finished his cornetti an' licked his lips to get at all the crumbs and stray bits o' marmalade. "So don't worry 'bout it," he smiled then as he stood up. "First thing you gotta know, we are family and we treat each other as such." That sentence didn't mean much to me, my idea of family so far had been beating after beating. When he saw the look on my face he got annoyed. "Don't look so dumb, what I mean is, we have to have each other's back. One thing you gotta learn when you're with us is to do what your told, an' keep your mouth shut no matter who asks you," I must o' still looked confused, "ah screw it, you'll figure it out sooner or later."
Thing about my Ma is she grew up in a strict Catholic family and so did my Pa. She never had much time for her daughters except to make them look pretty. It was me she devoted her time. See school gave me the fear of the principal, the principal gave me the fear of expulsion and my Pa, my Pa gave me the fear of his belt and Ma and Ma gave me the fear of God. The harder she pushed me, the more I wanted to get away.
School had always been unbearable. The bigger kids would beat me up for being a Christian Italian, too different from most the other kids. The teachers knew I didn't wanna be there and gave me hell to make their own sad lives feel better.
Weeks passed however and the more I worked with the guys the more time I spent there. In those first few weeks I learned more with them than I ever learned in my several years in school. And they were useful things too, things that gave me a little extra money as well as a little more street smarts.
In a month's time, I was on street corners with Big Al sellin' what he liked to call his discount goods. We usually sold boxes of import cigars as well as different liquors and whatever he could get a discount on. I never knew at the time but discount was his chosen word for stolen. He sold them at lower prices than was available at stores but even so, every sale provided Big Al with 100% profit. My first day we'd earned well over 1k in the first couple hours. Al was countin' the notes when the police came by lookin' all mean an' tough. I almost bolted right then and there when I felt a hand clamped on my shoulder, holdin' me on the spot. For one insane second I thought this was some elaborate setup to get me in trouble, then I wondered how he'd known the cops were here and gotten to my side so fast. But all my fears disappeared the moment he started talkin' and was replaced by a weird thrill I'd never felt before. For the first time ever I felt alive and it was wonderful.
"What's the problem, officers?" he asked, he was smilin' as he looked at their faces, workin' 'em out. The pair just looked at each other before taking a step closer to Big Al.
"Quite an operation you have here," they were blockin' any view that an outsider could have of what was goin' on. "Looks like you have made yourself a lot of money."
"It's been a good mornin', you two gents should share in my success," he shook their hands. The officers hard masks cracked and they smiled.
"Keep up the good work citizen," and they left, just like that.
I had no idea what just happened, afterwords Big Al told me that most patrols just wanted free handouts to help pay their bills, that if you paid them they'd leave you alone. That in the long run, a couple hundreds slipped into their hands with a civilised handshake was better than losing it all and going to prison.
And it didn't stop there. When we were at the Butchers, I noticed that he got a lot of customers that were just like him, and even me. They were Italian American's too and I couldn't have been happier at that. But it was what they talked about that caught my attention. Things like, "I gave your friend his present, he won't be around to thank you," and "your package came, everything's as you ordered." Even in my innocence I could tell that things weren't quite as they seemed. But every time, Big Al would smile, sometimes clasp their hands or kiss their cheeks, or he'd slip a note into their pockets. Then he might reply with some other code and either send them through to the back or send them on their way. There were other types of people that would come to the store who seemed to owe Big Al favours, Associates of his like lawyers and doctors and all types of professions.
All these people came and it made me wonder just what Big Al was.


text:
Present Value: A Novelby Sabin Willett
Fritz Brubaker and his wife, Linda—an attractive couple in their mid-forties—have it all. He's a toy-company executive and she's a million-dollar-a-year lawyer. Their children are in private school; they have a McMansion in a Boston suburb and a cottage on Nantucket. But their comfortable world is suddenly turned upside down when Fritz's company's stock tanks and he is arrested for insider trading. Linda's image-conscious firm suspends her. Their houses get repossessed. The kids go haywire. Watching the Brubaker family's lives unravel is the best way to see the stuff from which they're really made.
This clever, very funny novel is a post-millennial snapshot of America that shows what happens to an economy built on greed when its chickens come home to roost. It's the story of a family gone wrong, and its attempt to reset its course.
The author of two successful thrillers, Sabin Willett delivers in this ambitious new novel the kind of witty social commentary we associate with Tom Wolfe, Jonathan Franzen, and Zadie Smith. But he writes in his own original voice, breaking new ground as he describes a changed world. Present Value is a provocative, wonderfully entertaining ride—an irreverent, clear-eyed view of the way we live now.
Editorial Reviews
Product Details
- 9781400060863
- Publisher:
- Random House Publishing Group
- Publication date:
- 09/02/2003
- Pages:
- 416
- Product dimensions:
- 6.46(w) x 9.46(h) x 1.31(d)
Read an Excerpt
HEAT! The heat was steamy and suffocating, a humid pall that anticipated the dawn and left everyone a little sluggish, a little vulnerable. It was so hot that the day itself seemed dazed, as though it had got lost from July somehow, made a wrong turn off the calendar, then wandered fitfully in the ether until it stumbled into September. In the suburbs west of Boston that Monday morning, it was not autumn at all; there was no hint or whisper of New England charm to come, nothing of the crisp anticipation of a new school year. It was just a sizzler—a white-sky mugging. And in the car-pool lane at the Chaney School, it was Cairo at noontime.
"Car-pool lane" was one of the school's many charming euphemisms, for there wasn't much pooling evident. The fewer the kids, the bigger the vehicle. The SUVs idled in rank, pumping out pizza-oven blasts of superheated exhaust, inching forward toward the alcove, where each would discharge from seventy-eight cubic feet of cargo space its seven cubic feet of Precious Cargo.
At just after eight a.m., behind the wheel of his wife's forest-green 2001 Lincoln Navigator, Fritz Brubaker took his place at the back of the line. In front of the Navigator was a shiny black Chevrolet Yukon XL with a 2500 cc Vortex engine, its powerful air conditioner cooling Precious Cargo by means of an asphalt-melting heat transfer from the tailpipe. In front of the Yukon was a white Mercedes SUV; in front of the Mercedes a Suburban, in front of the Suburban a pearl-gray Range Rover, in front of the Range Rover an Audi A6 all-wheel-drive Quattro feeling smugly and environmentally righteous in this brigade ofhalf-tracks, and in front of the Audi a line of seven-foot SUVs broken only once by a minivan that looked as though it were being held hostage.
They didn't wait impatiently, mind you—they advanced smartly, even eagerly, the moment they could, but not impatiently. No impatience would be expressed as the SUV at the front of the line stopped at the alcove and the driver hopped down from the front seat; none as she (usually but not always, either Mom or the nanny) came around to the passenger side to unbelt the cargo with a cheery wave to the vehicle behind; none as she greeted the welcome teacher (this morning it was Mavis Potemkin, one of the team-teaching second-grade pair); certainly no one would express vehicular urgency as the parent straightened the Patagonia backpack on the child's shoulders (the backpack must be an approved backpack: while the $79.99 JanSport would do in a pinch, a good parent really ought to spring for the $109 Patagonia number); no one in line would be so gauche as to rev a three-hundred-horsepower engine as the parent checked the water bottle (children must be properly hydrated at all times); and then, perhaps most important of all, as the line of idling SUVs pumped remorseless cubic meters of carbon monoxide into the hot morning air, no impatience would be expressed as the parent escorted the Precious Cargo thirty feet across the gravel and through the doorway of Fielding Hall.
Not that the crushed-stone path between the alcove and Fielding was perilous country. Mishap there was about as likely as, say, a holdup in the Oval Office. Still, this daily station of the parenting cross was vitally important. The car-pool-laners were eager—they wanted to move smartly (but not rudely) and efficiently (but not impatiently) through this process, but no one would rush this event. Because escorting one's children into Fielding Hall at the Chaney School was a Good Parent Ritual. At the turn of the millennium in tony Wellesley, Massachusetts, just west of the city that liked to call itself the Hub, churchgoing was off, but Good Parent Rituals were the new sacraments. Particularly when other hawkeyed good parents were watching with raptorial intent from their sport utility perches.
Fritz looked at his car phone, thought about calling the office, and thought better of it. He'd be at Playtime—the international toy, video game, and software conglomerate—soon enough. And on the ninth floor of the company's Burlington headquarters, there would be a different kind of heat. A bad wind was blowing at Playtime: a hot and angry meltemi.
Fritz lowered the automatic window and leaned out of the Navigator, craning his neck to count the cars in front. Waves of heat rushed in. Jesus, it was hot.
"Jesus, it's hot! Shut the window, will you?"
Thus spake 50 percent of the Precious Cargo. Among the more abrasive habits—and there were many—of Michael Brubaker was the thirteen-year-old's uncanny knack of sinning openly in precisely the way and at precisely the moment that his father was sinning in private. Only two weeks ago they had been in the Natick Mall, father and son, when Fritz and Michael passed a little hottie with exposed navel and groaningly tight bustier pulled across a diabolical set of grapefruit breasts. At the moment that the words "God, what tits!" were forming in Fritz's brain, Michael said loudly, "God, what tits!"
Only thirteen! The disrespect of it, the contemptuous disrespect! And the uncanny way that Michael had figured out how to mimic his father's own failings—to impose on his father the cost of hypocrisy whenever discipline should be asserted.
Fritz knew—the reasons were vague and rather difficult to articulate, but nevertheless he knew—that Michael was too young to be dropping profane epithets around a parent. True, other than for the annual worship-of-children service held at the First Congregational Church of Dover each Christmas Eve (in which children gave piano recitals and then were paraded in as stars, angels, sheep, and wise persons, and tumultuous applause was heard from a large crowd of adoring parental magi, right in the sanctuary), neither he nor Linda had been to services in—how long had it been? So objecting to an infraction of the Third Commandment struck Fritz as a little bit hypocritical. Still, it left him feeling vaguely uncomfortable.
He couldn't see the alcove yet, even leaning out the window. Twelve cars? Fifteen? Of which maybe eleven were as massive as Linda's Lincoln Navigator LX, with its leather seats and side-impact air bags (not that anything would dare broadside this mountain of metal), its surround-sound Blaupunkt audio, and the drop-down DVD screen. On the latter Michael even now was immersed in Death Vault, his latest video game. Fritz could hear stereophonic punches and kicks, stunning groans and grunts, and a glup-glup-glupping that he took to be the sound of arterial blood. When Michael severed a head or a limb, which he did rather frequently, DVD blood spurted from open wounds with anatomical verisimilitude. Michael liked this feature.
"Da-ad, he's been playing that stupid game since we left home. Can't he turn it off?"
This from the balance of the Precious Cargo, Fritz's sixth-grade daughter, Kristin.
"Shut up, queer," said Michael.
"Michael!" Fritz barked, but to what syntactic end was uncertain. Michael in the general vocative. Michael in the undeclined emphatic. Michael in the will-you-stop-being-a-jerk-for-ten-more-minutes.
The mission statement of the Chaney School avowed a commitment to nonviolence, tolerance, and economic justice and affirmed the value of every human being, regardless of race, creed, religion, belief, national origin, gender, sexual preference, or physical, mental, or emotional disability. Michael, an eighth-grader, had been a student there since preschool.
The mission statement hung in a glass frame in the Welcome Center just inside Fielding Hall. It was also printed in the school brochure. Prospective parents lauded the school's commitment to these important values. They thought this an excellent environment for students of tender years. For the parents of a five-year-old, nonviolence and tolerance often appeared to be exotic goals. Only later would these parents' educational goals expand to things like chemistry and getting into Andover.
The parents also liked that the Chaney School had been around for a long time. In fund-raisers and at alumni functions, the headmistress, Harriet Tichenor, a stout and jolly lady, always mentioned that the school had a proud heritage. It had been established in 1912. This would bring nods of appreciation. Almost ninety years ago! Founded back when Wellesley was a simple country town! People liked that.
Chaney did have a proud heritage, but it avoided boastful displays. On the contrary, Chaney observed a remarkable and commendable discretion, even reticence, as to the details of the whole heritage thing, mentioning that the school had indeed been founded in 1912 by Louise S. Chaney, a spinster educator, and leaving it at that. Miss Chaney, as she was known, had bought the old Fielding Mansion overlooking the Charles River that year, and four years later graduated the first class of sixteen students. But her father, Lounsford Chaney III, had more to do with the real establishment of the place. It was from his will that Miss Chaney had inherited a special bequest of $2 million. Lounsford had made these millions, and many more besides, as chairman of the Trans-Atlantic Mineral Corporation, which profited handsomely in the years before World War I by the systematic rapine of the mineral wealth of Liberia. Through his shrewd backing of local warlords, Lounsford achieved substantial savings in labor costs (the company subcontracted the actual mining to the warlords, who in turn used slaves). This effective management tool gave the company a competitive advantage, which it exploited to loot the country of much of its aluminum, copper, lead, and gold. After the war, Trans-Atlantic Mineral closed the mines, thanked the slave drivers for their good work, and left behind a wasteland pocked with slag heaps and leaching pools of chromium and arsenic. But by that time Lounsford had a fortune in excess of $14 million.
Although the school featured an African Appreciation Week and welcomed players of African drums and carvers of African masks, and although two months of the fifth-grade curriculum were devoted to the deplorable legacy of apartheid in southern Africa, the swashbuckling African business career of Chaney père was not a focus of study.
It was going to be a while before Fritz got to the alcove. Only there might he safely discharge his own Precious Cargo from the Navigator's restraint harnesses, check the backpacks and water bottles, wave jauntily and cheerily to the other good parents, and leave. Nothing—well, nothing except Linda—was less forgiving than the car-pool lane. There were no shortcuts. It would have been unthinkable simply to evacuate the Precious Cargo before reaching the alcove. This would be to commit poor parenting, and at the Chaney School, poor parenting was scandalous. (A child might be hit by an SUV, though none of them seemed to be moving. Still, it might happen.) So Fritz idled, crept forward, idled, and pumped hydrocarbons into the atmosphere.
This stifling Monday morning had already been more than a match for Fritz. It gave him renewed appreciation for his wife. Linda could rise at four-thirty, run four miles on her contact-free gyrotreader, spend a half hour in the bathroom, rouse the kids, rouse the nanny, rouse Fritz, preside over the choices of clothing and healthful cereal, inspect the backpacks, oversee the correct brushing and flossing of teeth, find the shoes, and bellow "Move out!" right on schedule. Linda LeBrecque was the George S. Patton of morning.
But Linda hadn't been around for this particular reveille, and neither was her usual NCO. The new nanny had vanished almost the moment she appeared—within forty-eight hours of her arrival last week, in fact. Poor Nina had been sent back to Ecuador, Linda commenting vaguely that "it just wasn't going to work out." Fritz found his wife's insight impressive, if somewhat opaque, for Nina had barely emerged from the taxi and hadn't done any child care or housework yet. The only data available as of the time Nina was cashiered was that she had a tidy little figure and a certain way of walking that Fritz kind of noticed. From the moment he was able to appreciate that salient point, Fritz suspected that poor Nina was toast.
So now they were nanny-free. To top it, on Sunday afternoon Linda had gone off to San Francisco to some kind of board meeting, leaving Fritz to do morning himself.
Which began, after the toss-and-turn night, with Fritz sleeping through the alarm. Finding Kristin's J. Crew flip-flops had been a crisis (she used to wear sneakers, he thought. Why all this new tension about finding the right flip-flops? And what was with forty-eight-dollar flip-flops?), and then nobody could find Michael's backpack, and then Kristin started wigging out about sunscreen, of all things (at the Chaney School, children must be equipped with sunscreen, without which it would be unsafe to play at recess). So Fritz, who rarely lost patience, and who almost never worried about anything, was in a uniquely uncomfortable state that morning of September 10, 2001. You could almost say he was getting nervous.
The car phone chirruped.
"Fritz, where are you?" It was Luce, Fritz's administrative assistant.
"Hey, Luce. I'm in car pool."
"Car pool. Dropping the kids off. You know."
Meet the Author
Sabin Willett is a partner with the law firm of Bingham McCutchen llp. He is the author of two previous novels, The Deal and The Betrayal. He graduated from Harvard and Harvard Law School and lives outside Boston.
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I thought that this book was an accurate portrayal of what has gone wrong in society. We have seen similar stories on the news of people who cheat or steal to get to the top. Fritz and his family have focused on the acquisition of material wealth, and they have lost sight of what is important in life! His family and all of his relationships crumbled because of the fact that he and his wife did not communicate with each other. This should be a lesson to corporate America!
Hysterical. I bought a second copy so I could circulate it to my friends faster.
Excellent read. Sabin Willett has captured the culture of our times better than anyone else. His work is a quick read, well done in every respect.
A fantastic satirical stab at all that's wrong with the social and professional elite. At times hilarious and at times poignant---especially the ending. Among other things, it's obvious Willett knows about life as a lawyer. After reading this book, you will never again attack your Blackberry with quite the same intensity and purpose. Reminded me of Tom Wolfe's Bonfire and Man in Full and also a bit of Nelson DeMille's Gold Coast.
This novel about a uncommunicative wealthy family whose world ships away piece by piece is at times hysterical and often poignant. Definitely a good value.


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Cedar Rapids Gazette (Newspaper) - September 10, 1974, Cedar Rapids, Iowa g Thf Cedar Rapids Gazette: Tues., Sept. It. 1974 Awed Admirer AP Wirephoto First Lady Betty Ford is all smiles as she kneels down to receive flowers offered by six-year-old Robert White, who was part of the committee who welcomed Mrs. Ford during her arrival at the Birmingham, Ala. airport. Mrs. Ford and nine other prominent women were honored this weekend for their charity and philanthropic leadership. Little Robert seems somewhat awed by the occasion. Society for Women Features a car Al v Mrs. Dean: Others Suffered Too By Abigail Van Buren DEAK ABBY: I have been saddened and amused by the number of letters in your column from people who were upset by the size of their noses The mother who couldn't love her baby because of its big snozz hit me hard To me, a prominent nose is beautiful. Look at Cleopatra. A little button-nose may be "cute." but give me the beauty arid character of a nose that is proud and prominent We are all entitled to our own standards of beauty. Why should we let Madison Avenue stereotypies lead us around by the nose? KNOWS NOSES DEAR KNOWS; We shouldn't. Which inspired the following limerick: There once was a beaut* named Rose. A Puritan life style she chose Lechers galore she would show to the door. Would you say she was sa\ed by her no s? (Edgar Allen l*o Bol * * + DEAR ABBY That dis-turtled young mother who couldn't "love" her baby because it had such a homely nose prompts me to write this I recently visited a young (and very handsome) couple who had a nine-month-old baby No one wariosi me. so I wasn't prepared for what I saw when they brought her out Sin* was positively the homeliest baby I had ever seen Unusually homely. I was at a loss for what to say. so I just said. "Hi, darling baby " She smiled, her eyes twinkled and her homely little face lit up as she held out her arms to welcome me as a new friend Within minutes I knew the secret of that baby's charm Her parents treated her as though she were an exquisitely beautiful and beloved treasure by letting her know what a lov«*d baby she was Consequently. she is exactly what they hold her to be — a beautiful treasure Within minutes one forgets that she is not a very pretty baby, because it doesn't really matter Her personality is sunny, lovable and responsive Parents of "homely" babies can learn a lot from this couple. I did A FRIEND DEAR FRIEND: And I II wager so did many others. * it it Everyone has a problem. What s yours? For a personal reply, write to ABBY: Box No 697(Ml I^s Angeles. Calif. MIM By Ann Blackman WASHINGTON (AP) - Mrs John W Dean III says Richard M Nixon and his family are not the only ones who have "suffered enough because of Watergate." In a statement Monday night, the wife of the former President s chief accuser asked President Ford to demonstrate the same compassion for other Watergate families that he showed to Nixon's "I'm gratified by the President's spirit of forgiveness, but dismayed by the apparent limitations he has applied to it." Mrs. Dean said in her first public statement since her imprisoned husband became a central figure in the Watergate scandal. "Mr. Nixon and his family are not the only ones who have suffered enough because of Watergate," she said. adding Told the Truth "Since the President has adopted this posture, I pray he will not overlook those who have fullv cooperated with the government in getting out the truth of Watergate to the American people. "These individuals are also suffering because they told the truth — which is something we have yet to hear from Mr. Nixon. "Why didn't Mr. Nixon have to pay at least the price of truth for his pardon?" Maureen Dean, a striking woman in her late 20s, became a familiar figure at the nationally televised Watergate hearings in the summer of 1973 Always impeccably coiffed and dressed, she sat just behind her husband during his five days of dramatic testimony implicating Nixon, whom Dean had served as White House counsel. Only Accuser For nearly a year. Dean stood alone as the President's accuser. But last April, much of his testimony was corroborated by transcripts of secret tape recordings that Nixon had made with his White House aides. Junk Food Out Says Principal NEW HAVEN. Conn. (AP) — Pupils at Edward Street school won t Ik* eating potato chips, candy or soda during lunch period if Principal Joseph Geremia has his way. Coremia, a former science teacher, sent notices to parents this week when school opened asking them not to include the so-called "junk foods" in their children's lunches He said those items will not be sold at the elementary school, either "I've seen students eat nothing but potato chips and soda." he said "It's crazy " Geremia contends those foods do not belong in a balanced diet. "We're so hypocritical," he said of adults "We tell kids not to smoke and we then smoke in front of them We also know that carbolic acid in sixia is harmful and we drink soda " When the principal announced his junk-fiMxi ban at a preschool meeting, parents cheered. PATTI GOFF FETED AT KITCHEN SHOW ER Miss Patti Coff, daughter of Mr and Mrs Thomas Golf, 1B42 Tenth street NW\ was honored Saturday evening with a kitchen shower given by Miss Pat Dolph, 1421 Tenth street NW Twelve guests shared the courtesy Miss Golf will be married Sept 20 to Timothy ('unman, son of Mrs Florence Pullman, 1232 Harold drive SE. When you run a classified ad . . . plan on being home to answer your telephone! Boehmke-Siders Vows BELLE PLAINE - The marriage of Miss .lander Rae Boehmke and Richard Allan Siders, 6301 Devonshire drive NE, Cedar Rapids, took place at 7:30 Saturday evening at the First Lutheran church The Rev. Richard Ossland performed the ceremony. Parents of the bridal couple are Mrs Guinn Christman of Belle Plaine and the late Walter Boehmke and Mr. and Mrs. F, Kenneth Siders of Solon For her wedding the bride chose a gown of jersey with a plastron of pearl beading and a beaded braid marking the empire waistline, long sleeves and a slim skirt with a red dmgote overskirt extending into a cha pel-length train A Camelot headpiece held her peau d'ange lace tiered veil and she carried a ballerina arrangement of white orchids, and Woburn Abbey roses Mrs Hugh Schultz attended her sister as matron of honor Suzi Palmer was maid of honor and other attendants were Mrs G Michael Kennedy, Ia*slee Hoenscheid, Mrs Paul Holton and Mrs. Robert Pearson Their gowns of melon and maize maracaine jersey were styled with jewel necklines and long sleeves and were trimmed with multi-colored Venine lace trim Their headpieces were draped hoods of matching fabric and their flowers were white pompons and miniature carnations K David biders of Cedar Rapids, brother of the bride- I groom was best man Serving I as groomsmen were Thomas 1 biders, another brother, Thomas Mullin, Mr Schultz, Mr Holton and Robert Howard. I shers were John I We lease Cars and Trucks see Larry Fiche! . WI 1st Ass. Si-366-2753 IS Mrs. Siders Loughran and Frank Puma and Kristen Schultz and Jeffrey biders were flower girl and rmgbearer At Hi 15 a reception for 325 guests was given at the Belle Plaine Country club * ¥ * The newlyweds will be ai home Sunday at the Devonshire address following a wedding trip to the Virgin islands The bridegroom, a graduate of the University of Iowa, is employed by Skogman Companies His bride is doing graduate work at the U. of I She was graduated from the University of Texas in El Paso and is affiliated with Zeta Tau Alpha sorority She is employed by Ar-J ay Building Products. ATTENTION • • • FLEET and LEASE CUSTOMERS THE 1975 MODELS ARE NOW AVAILABLE FOR ORDER and DELIVERY Call John Wirt! 364-01 81 Bob ZIMMERMAN Ford Vs lit Avo. E at 40th St. Optimism for Ford Shows Despite Past Voting Record By Isabelle Shelton Washington Star News WASHINGTON - Rep Martha Griffiths (D-Mich.) says she thinks President Ford "will do more for U. S. women than any other man who ever occupied the White House." • She believes this despite President Ford s abysmal record on women's issues when he was a member of congress. Many women leaders in both parties agree. Ford scored zero on women's issues two years in a row in a congressional tally compiled by the Woman Activist, a respected feminist publication He voted against the Equal Rights Amendment, the Child Development Act, enforcement powers for the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, antidiscrimination laws for colleges and universities, increases in the minimum wage and extension of its coverage to domestic workers and government employes. He voted for the Nixon administration's impoundment of health and education funds, and to deny women legal assistance in abortions. Mrs. Griffiths, one of the leading feminists in congress who has been called "Mrs. Equal Rights", explains her faith in her former Michigan colleague this way. Conservative District "What you have got to realize is how conservative Ford's district was," she says. "Lyndon Johnson didn't do anything for blacks until he got to the White House." The congresswoman says that while Ford voted against the Equal Rights Amendment in 1973, he had voted for it earlier (Some women charge that some house members voted yes that first time, confident the senate would block the measure — which it did). More to the point, Mrs Griffiths maintains, is that Ford helped her line up signatures on a discharge petition on that first occasion in 1970 It was the petition that broke a logjam of 50 years in congress and finally got the bill to the house floor. When she persuaded the late Rep. Hale Boggs to become the 200th signer of the petition, Ford delivered on a promise he had made to her and marshalled 18 Republican signers to put the petition over the top, Mrs. Griffiths recalls. She is grateful that Ford "even mentioned the Equal Rights Amendment" when he invited women members of congress to the White House early in his presidency to be photographed with him as he signed a document proclaiming Woman Loses Jaycee Seat RENTON. Wash (AP) -Under the threat of losing its national charter, the Renton Jaycee chapter has voted to drop its first female member. And the woman who saw her membership revoked by a 7-5 vote last week reacted by declaring, "It's a bunch of garbage! It's your loss, too." Pamela K Backus, a 31-year-old Renton realtor and mother of three, added, "I'm not going to seduce you. I want to learn to run committees, self-confidence and public speaking I'm a businesswoman." The Jaycees agreed to postpone voting to re admit Mrs Backus until after a state Jaycee meeting in October The Rochester, N. Y., Jaycee chapter is in federal court appealing a court decision that upheld its expulsion from the national organization after it admitted women on an equal basis with men Several Renton Jaycees who voted to oust Mrs. Backus said the chapter should fight for admitting women from within But Bob McBeth, floor leader for the "pro-Pam" forces, said the real issue was discrimination. He said the 33-member chapter needs women "who could do as much as men " Aug 26 (the 54th anniversary of the Women's Suffrage Amendment) as Women's Equality day. Another good sign to many women — although opinions are divided — is Ford s statement in his speech to congress, that he wanted to be President of all the people, "of women's liberationists and male chauvinists and all the rest of us in between. "It bothered me," says Rep. Bella Abzug (D-N. V.) expressing a view shared by .several women Some consider it a "putdown" of women activists. Others think the President was "making fun of women. But many see it as a step forward. Best Sense "I think he meant it in the very best sense - intended to show the broadness of the representation he |»lans to accomplish," says Mary Louise Smith, new chain.urn of tile Republican national committee. Jill Ruckelshaus, former head of women's programs in the Nixon White House (and whose husband. William Ruck-elshaus, quit as deputy attorney general rather than follow President Nixon's order to fire the former special prosecutor, Archibald Cox), agrees: "I think something happens to you when you are President and don't have to be so narrowly partisan." she says "You can't think of yourself as President of just 48 percent of the people (the male percentage of the population).'' Many other women leaders express similar views. And Ford appears to be moving quickly to fulfill hopes. He met recently with White House counselor Anne Armstrong. who oversees White House women's programs, and about 30 top women appointees from the Nixon administration At the meeting, Ford made what many there called a "very strong" speech expressing his determination to appoint more women to high-level jobs in his administration, and asked the women to promptly funnel names to him through Mrs Armstrong He also asked them to suggest issues to be stressed, and new "breakthrough" spots to which women could be appointed, in jobs up to now held only by men Mrs. Armstrong, who became one of the chief White House defenders of President Nixon on the lecture circuit late in his administration, expresses delight at the turn of events at the White House. "Openness and accessibility" are the new key words, she says. Extraordinary Miss America of 1975, Shirley Cothran of Ft. Worth, Texas, takes a break from the pose of queenly regalness and clowns for photographers during a sightseeing tour of New York City Monday. The 21-year-old beauty, in town on the first stop of her tour, was chosen in competition at Atlantic City late Saturday. Russian Jew On Way to Israel after Prison Release The Shufflers Winners of the rubber game played Monday at Noelndge Park Christian church were: North-south — Mrs W E Eonian arid Charles Fitzgerald, first, and Mrs Kenneth Touro and Mrs John McCallum, second; cast-west — Mrs Robert Dreckrnan and Mrs Mike (own*, first, and Mrs. Mary Farley and Mrs James Igou, second Over all winners were Mrs Eyman and Mr Fitzgerald The next game will Im* played Monday at the church MOSCOW (AP) - Sylva Zalmonson. who served four years in a prison camp for her part in the Leningrad hijack plot, left Tuesday for Vienna on her way to Israel Miss Zalmonson, her husband. Eduard Kuznetsov, and two brothers were convicted in Leningrad with II other Soviet Jews of trying to hijack a plane in 1970 in an attempt to reach Israel The 29-year-old woman was sentenced to IO years' imprisonment but was released last month She attributed her freedom to "public opinion abroad " Some Communist diplomats in Moscow suggested that the clemency was aimed at the I' S. congress, which has been blocking trade and credit benefits for the Soviet Union because of the government's restrictions on Jewish emigration to Israel. THE BEST FAMILY TREAT IS CANS OR POLY BAGS Zenith -In Hearing Aids A Name\bu Can Trust. 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TOKYO, Oct 25 (Reuters) - Honda Motor Co. said on Tuesday it had received about 700 orders in Japan for its new Civic hybrid sedan over a one-month period before the model goes on sale on Nov. 22. That compares with an average monthly sales target of 500 units for the life of the model, and actual domestic sales of 36 units a month for the previous Civic hybrid during 2004, Japan's third-biggest auto maker said. For the gasoline-only Civic, first-month orders in Japan came in at roughly ...
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The Aerial Studio of Ventura Receives Small Business Award from Mayor
This year's National Small Business Week, in recognition of the contribution of entrepreneurs and small business owners through the nation, came to a close Friday, May 16. Throughout the week small businesses and entrepreneurs were recognized across the country for new jobs they created within local communities and their outstanding work ethic.
Former Cirque Du Soleil performers Gregg and Carmen Curtis opened The Aerial Studio in Ventura to share their passion for aerials with the community. In its growth and development over the past few years, the studio has worked with the nonprofit association SCORE-Ventura County, who nominated The Aerial Studio for this year's National Small Business Awards. The presentation of the SmallBusiness Award of the year to The Aerial Studio commends Carmen and Gregg for the work they have accomplished and the community they have developed.
With qualified and highly experienced teachers, students at The Aerial Studio feel safe and supported in their practice while exploring new talents and developing a fortified confidence in the circus arts. From beginning adult aerial classes that incorporate aerial silks, trapeze, hammock and lyra, to the young boys superhero training to beginner tumbling, acrobatics and parkour classes, there are opportunities for adventurers of all ages and backgrounds.
In addition to aerial and acrobatics classes, Vinyasa Yoga and AIReal Yoga™ are offered at the studio. The AIReal Yoga™ classes offered at the studio practice the only kind of aerial yoga that has been accredited by the Yoga Alliance. Carmen Curtis developed AIReal Yoga™ to help clients deepen their yoga practice with the use of a looped fabric or hammock, anchored to a single point from which it swivels freely.
The Aerial Studio of Ventura is owned by former Cirque Du Soleil performers, Carmen and Gregg Curtis, and staffed by highly qualified instructors. The studio offers a range of circus classes, from aerial arts (trapeze, lyra, aerial silks, hammock and rope) to acrobatics and parkour, available at the beginner, intermediate and advanced levels. In addition to the aerial classes offered, qualified instructors teach both yoga and AIReal Yoga™ at the studio.
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killer chapter 2Mature
Once I woke up I was as fidgety as ever. I looked at the clock on my right, 7:01 am is what it read. "1 breath, 2, in, 3,4, out" this usually gets rid of my uarges but not today. I got dressed, as I did so I was trying to find my guilt for what I had done, dispite it just being a dream. But none was to be found, I go down staire and had my usual breakfast then rode by bike down to my dads.
I got there around 7:25 the time my father would be eating his food, the same thing everyday. He has a little twirk about him really. He is a bit compulsive. Everyday is the same, even when he kills it's never any different. Always at 2 past midnight, he'd make his final cut. When he woke in the morning it is the same thing everyday and in turn so was mine untill I moved out. I knocked on his door, 4 times no more no less. After around 10 seconds he answered the door, a big smile on his face. It was the smile he had when the things he killed where finally opened like a christmas precent really. He gave me a big hug then sat me down where he ate his food. "So." He asked joy in his voice for some reason. "How was the first time?"
I went over every gory detail, painting a picture for him. This seemed to be the only thing to get rid of the gitters I had that morning. It was like breathing for the first time and I was brought back to that moment. Looking over it's worn out body, it not daring to close it's eyes knowing if it did it would never open them again. Salty tears running down the side of it's face, it mouthing out the words everyone says. "Please." I could even hear the things heartbeating at that fast rate, finishing it's race. "Oh, silly I can't do that." I whispered into it's left bleeding ear. "Tom, no matter what you say nor do this is happening." I could hear the words echoing in my mind as I told my father, the grin on both our faces. A wave of calm came over me as I resited where I cut, how deep and feeling it caused for me. How could something so useless make me feel this way? I didn't care, all I needed was my fill for the time. I took my sweet time, keeping my toy alive to feel everything I was giving it. It was an older man, a perverted one at that. It was fairly simple to get him to where I needed it. It even paid me to do it. Untill I pulled the knife he thought it was all normal. How sick where some of these things? Oh well, they'll are be dead by my hands one day or another.
As I finished my last detail of the experiance we both stood up and headed to the back yard. It was time to get the fire started. A few hours later they arived. It was lucky for the things that we didn't need toys to be entertained that night. I just staired at the fire that night. Well thatw as untill someone interuped me. "Excue me?" I looked up at it, dark hair. One different colored eye. Around my age, a lose tee-shirt on and jeans not odd for the season. "May I sit here?" It asked almost to cherrfully then took a seat next to me. It looked avrage by his looks. For about another hour we just sat there, staring at the glowing fire. No other words at all. By this time all the other objects had left. My father put his rough feeling hand and placed it on my shoulder, "So I see you've met Jack here." He gestured to the boy on my left.
I looked at him confused, all he did was smile thoug. "He's Sam's kid. You remember Uncle Sam don't you?" I did clearly, he helpped my dad with hunts, clean up mostly but he did help with other things as well. I knew he had a kid but he never brought him on the hurts with us. "Jack huh? Well, I'm Mercy." I said with my usual fake smile. It was just another toy, I wonder why he's here though. Since his dad does live way up North. We all walked inside, the thing following. It's posture was different down, before the body langaure was quiet relaxed flowing even but not now. Now he looked as if he was a shoulder returning from a close hunt. Head held high, great posture, his arms only slightly swaying at the sides. Once there my Father closed the door and any open windows then sat down with me anf the object in the living room. Again he sat next to me but no a word was said this time.


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How "Magic" is Magic Formula Investing?
The underlying concept of magic formula investing is a genius marketing platform, but it is unclear how "magic" the formula actually is–examine 'cheapness,' examine 'quality,' combine the analysis and buy the best value (get the most bang for your buck). The magic formula identifies quality via EBIT / (NPPE +net working capital) and cheapness via EBIT / TEV. These two measures are certainly not 'bad'; however, they are also not necessarily optimal.
We are always exploring alternatives to the magic formula found in academic finance research. In fact, we highlighted the 'academic version' of the magic formula in the following post:
The "profit and value" strategy identifies cheapness via book-to-market, and identifies quality via gross-profits-to-total-assets.
Next, we backtested the magic formula and the profit and value system and compared them in a head-to-head battle. We tested a portfolio that is annually rebalanced on June 30th (only stocks >80% NYSE market cap breakpoint are included). The portfolio is rebalanced across 30 stocks on July 1st and held until June 30th.
First the Drawdowns:
Very similar, with a slight edge for profit and value.
Next, the overall performance:
Again, slight edge for profit and value, but very little overall difference.
And how about the year by year comparison?
Honestly, looks like a pretty even match–amazingly similar!
Key Takeaway:
Focusing on quality and cheapness simultaneously helps investors beat the market
Additional study…
Here is a document with the summary results of the comparison between profit and value and the magic formula for broad market (as defined as market cap >20% breakpoint on the NYSE) and for large caps, exclusively (as defined as market cap >80% breakpoint on the NYSE):
Key Takeaways:
- Profit and value is arguably better than the magic formula.
- Both strategies have significant risk in the form of large drawdowns.
- Long/short systems based on quality/cheapness factors are DANGEROUS!
Explore the use of quality/cheapness factors for long-only investment systems, but be prepared for a very volatile ride.
If you are interested in trading either system, head to Empirical Finance Data. We do all the calculations, so you can try and make some money.
Note: This site provides no information on our value investing ETFs or our momentum investing ETFs. Please refer to this site.
Join thousands of other readers and subscribe to our blog.
Please remember that past performance is not an indicator of future results. Please read our full disclaimer. The views and opinions expressed herein are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Alpha Architect, its affiliates or its employees. This material has been provided to you solely for information and educational purposes and does not constitute an offer or solicitation of an offer or any advice or recommendation to purchase any securities or other financial instruments and may not be construed as such. The factual information set forth herein has been obtained or derived from sources believed by the author and Alpha Architect to be reliable but it is not necessarily all-inclusive and is not guaranteed as to its accuracy and is not to be regarded as a representation or warranty, express or implied, as to the information's accuracy or completeness, nor should the attached information serve as the basis of any investment decision. No part of this material may be reproduced in any form, or referred to in any other publication, without express written permission from Alpha Architect.
Definitions of common statistics used in our analysis are available here (towards the bottom)


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Definition from macmillandictionary.com
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They kissed again, and then he was gone.
He kissed her on the lips.
We all hugged and kissed each other.
He went upstairs to kiss his son goodnight.
He knelt and kissed the hand of the Queen.
The final rays of the sun kissed the tops of the islands.


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My Rows and Piles of Coins
€ 16,99
Lieferbar innert 2 Wochen
Juni 2010
BeschreibungI emptied my secret money box, arranged the coins in piles and the piles in rows....The market is full of wonderful things -- roasted peanuts, rice cakes, toy trucks, kites -- but Saruni doesn't buy any of them. He is saving for something special. How happy and proud he will be when he can help his mother carry heavy goods to market on his very own bicycle!Master storyteller Tololwa M. Mollel has created a lively tale of generosity and determination that earn unexpected rewards. Striking watercolors by E. B. Lewis capture the warmth of Saruni's family and the color and excitement of market day in Tanzania.
Untertitel: Empfohlen von 5 bis 8 Jahren. None. Sprache: Englisch.
Verlag: CLARION BOOKS
Erscheinungsdatum: Juni 2010
Seitenanzahl: 32 Seiten
Format: gebunden


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I am Not Alone!Mature
He caught me when I was my most stubborn, which to say is a feat that no one else can say. I am the biggest pain in the ass to anyone and yet he still flipped my world upside down like it was the easiest thing in the world. Most likely it was for him and he probably was smirking about it the whole fucking time. I am not the emotionally available person so the fact that he got a rise in me was just infuriating and un-nerving. I know that most girls would swoon over someone like him but I couldn't help being freaked out by him. He put anger in me, he knew me so well that I would just bang my head on the table just to get away from the painful words he says. Again every fucking girl would love him, and would love his attention I couldn't get farther away. He was perfectly fine invading not only my persona space but my emotional space, not just that but he loved to play with my head like it was a fucking toy. Yeah to me he was a bastard; of course his reply was that he didn't know his father. Sigh, he's like a poison that stays in you all your life. How did this all started? I would have to say it started at a park, I always wanted to be the hero of my own story but in this part I was the damsel. He would later confess that it was good character building to let him save me. I would later smack him and refuse to continue the conversation but we both knew that it would continue no matter what.
She was the worst female I met, completely independent to a flaw. Yet she hit me like a train, she got my heart high before I knew it. I am usually the most comical and just all around life of the party and she took that and made it lethal to me. Almost every word she spoke bit me deep, like she didn't want to eat me but just make me bleed. Sadist much, any normal male would run away screaming because she was just so fucking difficult with everything. Yet being the man that I was I couldn't help but push her till she growled and clawed at me with her words, just to see her normal mask crumble. She was all animal and I couldn't help but love the way I could make her squirm, I have to say it was thrilling in a completely fucked up way. She would hate me for it for the rest of her life but I felt the need to pick her up as she fell that night in the park. It was the night that I fell as well but in a different way.
Long brown hair swished about in the heavily forested park as her hips swayed in the night air. Lynette was the girl everyone knew but never actually met, with her dark eyes she scared away any attraction people had to her. She always wondered why that happened because her lips were always held together with a grin, smirk and a small smile. It could have been welcoming but it was that pure confidence in the way she moves and how those eyes took in every bit of a person before they even spoke that made people distance themselves. Then again she loved it that way; she was sincerely fucked up as a person. Lynette the pretty young thing had a problem, not just a normal problem that could be fixed but something that will be hers alone forever. She wasn't diagnosed but it was a medical condition, no one in the world had it and it drove her to a point of unable to stand it. Her life no longer held meaning as she walked to the highest bridge in the park like she always did with a cynical smile across that pink mouth. What happened was that of love stories, except this isn't a love story, it was life.
I breathed in the crisp winter air with no jacket on in below zero degrees and yet I felt flushed and almost nervous about my sin. As I climbed the bridge I reached into my pocket to grip the hunk of silver in my hands. Tightening my hold a little I felt blood pool out of my hand as I took it out of my pocket and admired the object in sick fascination. Breathing out I grip the top of the razor and put it to my wrist, no dread or fear, just giving myself a moment to think it through. What do I have to live for? Not a damn thing came to mind so I slit the vein in a quick jerk and quickly did the other wrist. Sharp, that was the pain I felt as I shook slightly I felt drained and waited there for a couple minutes. The blood slowly trickling down my hands that I could feel shaking from the loss of blood as the minutes passed. Soon I had thought enough gore has poured out of me that I could finish it, climbing up and over the rail of the bridge I looked down and felt loss over come me. A loss of a life that I could never reach or have and it made me fear for what I have done. I couldn't go back now so why back off now? One hand drops from the rail as does the other hand I close my eyes. Nothing happened; I realized two arms are wrapped around my waist as I was carried over the railing. I laughed as I knew that too much blood was lost for me to be saved and let the stranger carry me and lay me down across the bridge. I then noticed green eyes almost glowing in the dark and a furious man kneeling over me. "Mm so this is what hell is like? I love the view" my raspy voice spoke in a mocking disorientated way. He seemed to get even more enraged as he grasped my wrists and held them tight as he leaned his ear to a cellular phone I didn't notice him take out. I laughed again as if nothing disastrous happened, like I saw an old friend after years of being apart. Again I wasn't right in the head. He softly asked for my name I called out Lynette in the weakest way that I was slightly ashamed of it. Then he spoke to me in such a way that I should have been pissed, I wasn't I was completely calmed by him. "You my dear are the most moronic person I have ever met. Do you know what you are doing? Look at yourself, covered in blood yet I know for a fact people love you, do you believe that? Or are you one of those self righteous people that think they are alone in this fucking world? You stupid girl, do you know what went through me seeing you like this? Your sick for letting me get so goddamn worked up over a fucking stranger. Look at me, I even touched your bloodied wrists like it was nothing!" He paused and looked about ready to panic; I couldn't help but reach out for him. I learned two things, one that he had a strong grip on my wrists, two that he hated not being listened to. He shook me lightly making me groan in pain at the action "Yeah you better feel this pain, remember it as you remember me, maybe it would make you think twice before you become such an idiot that you try this again". He sighed in relief as lights danced across my face, I couldn't help but be mad at his defiance of my death. Paramedics rushed me away taking me to the hospital that I absolutely hated.
~~~~~~~~~~3 days later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I couldn't get rid of him, after the incident he came over daily to bug me asking and I quote 'What the hell is wrong with you? And why the fuck do you hate life so much?' of course these went unanswered much to my delight. Yet I couldn't help at being peeved at the way he knew me so well, actually I was down right angry. "You know what I learned about you Lynette? You hate being around people, that little wall of yours is going to break though. I shall make sure of it, and then you will never be allowed to go. Yes I see through this little charade of yours, you love to leave those who love you or get to close. It scares you to bits to let anyone in". I felt him smirking, felt because I had my back turned to him for fear of him seeing my eyes turn black in pure distaste for his words. "You know what Jackson; I don't think it is allowed to dig into a mental patient that attempted suicide just days ago. You were there and all". Yes that always seemed to piss him off, making him remember the dark start to this fucked up friendship if you call it that. I more like to call it stalking or being an annoying fucker then an actual friendship. "Lynette you need to talk, at least talk to me. From the little I know of you; you seem like a truly wonderful person. Why do that to yourself?" .I sighed at his sincerity, "Jackson I know you have this all worked up in your head but I'm not who you think I am. Actually it would be better if you stopped talking to me now, you don't want to get hurt do you?" I smiled at him in my please don't notice I am broken smile. "If you're willing to get hurt then so am I. Besides I am the sane one in the room" he smirked at that one, I just know it. I laughed at that because we both seemed to be fucked up in our own sick way. A nurse walked in "Lynette time for group therapy", I smiled at Jackson and made my leave.
I slumped in my chair from exhaustion and closed my eyes for a brief moment. Lynette flashed in my mind and I couldn't help but freak at the name. What was with her? She left me feeling insane and completely insecure. I didn't even know why I was here still. She was just a pretty girl that tried to kill herself, a stranger, she shouldn't matter. Yet when she closed her eyes and let go of that bridge something stirred inside. Something I didn't know existed, something I thought died a long time ago. The sad part was she was right, I was just going to get hurt. I knew it because something was terribly wrong with her, something in my heart said so and it brought a deep agony to me. She was my root, pulling me down into the dark earth where no light could be found. She will break me down like minerals and water and continue on with life. A knock to the door drew me out of my head and a tall blonde walked in, she was around 5'11 and looked completely bored with where she was. "So where the fuck is Lynette?" she said it so nonchalant that I wanted to kick her, I sighed "She is in group, who are you?" "I was her room mate" she acted like it was not a big deal that Lynette was in the hospital. "You don't seem worried about her, you actually look quite bored with the whole situation" I couldn't help but love the frustration I gave her. "Well lets just say I am not on good terms with her and your most likely wondering why the fuck would she would fuck with me? Well it wasn't because she didn't love me; she is dieing and didn't want to have someone be so close to her". I swear to high heaven something clicked, the way she moved like it was in fact her last, the way her eyes stayed somber and lonely. I honestly didn't give a fuck; something welled inside me, what gave her the right to give up now? "So you didn't know? From the way you looked I thought you knew I wouldn't try getting to know her. She is exactly as she always was, not worth the time, who wants a broken woman? Not me, fucking hell when she told me I freaked thinking I would have to deal with it. I felt-"; I couldn't stand one minute in the same room as her self serving attitude so I just walked out. I honestly don't think she thought that way; it was on her own terms she wanted to go, not some pathetic way of running away. Yet I couldn't let her give up like that, I had no clue why but I felt sad that she didn't smile.
"Lynette why are you here?" they ask me this all the time and I have to say it was bugging the hell out of me. "Well I am not really here, you know because here is a relative term, here in this state? Or here in this room? I ask this because I was forced to be in this room in particular even though I am sure other rooms are just as nice". The therapist looked pissed at my comment but in all honesty it was his fault for asking. He just couldn't deal with the answer, not my fault mister you can play the blame game but I am not going to play. After about an hour of that bullshit I was finally allowed to go to my room, shockingly Jackson wasn't there. Which confused and made me panic a little bit, especially when I saw my ex room mate sitting in Jackson's official home for the last couple days. "Julie what are you doing here?" I sighed officially exhausted from other people's emotions. "I wanted to see if this was a ploy to get me back" her tone has always gotten on my nerves. "Listen I didn't push you away because of my condition okay? So leave me alone, your just a cocky jerk and I have more important things to do, oh wait I don't I'll be dead" that one ticked her off. I checked off a point on my side "Well who the fuck was that guy? Your new toy?" I blinked and thought about what the hell she was talking about. "Oh so you met him, no he is just someone who will not leave me alone, why are you jealous?" She didn't seem to appreciate my lovely tone, hm too bad. "Jealous of what, he has nothing I have." I laughed "oh Julie you were always quick to compete with me, I hate that you won't take the hint either." Ending it there I walked out and took a small walk out in the garden of the hospital. Sighing I wondered how many promises I broke that night, now the empty shells of them survive and burn me. I wish I could say I was sorry but I wasn't, I can't say that I am because I wanted to have some control over this.


text: Heyyyyaaa (: I'm Jessamine-Scarlett (which is a tremendous mouthful, and also Arabic) but my pen name is Jessi Monroe. That's purely because I cut my name down to Jessi, and I'm also in love with Marilyn Monroe; I've a real thing for fifties clothes (: I live in Sheffield with my girlfriend Nina <3 We both love writing and photography and art; they tell stories in the most complex and beautiful ways, I don't understand how anyone cannot love them (: I'm a little strange with the way I dress and the things I like and so's Nina, but we're quite opposite lookswise. I wear pretty much whatever I want, mostly dresses in all sorts of different styles and colours and materials and patterns, with and without tights, high heels or flat shoes... I love dresses (: And knitted stuff, lot's of cashmere and heavy cardigans. I quite like vintage stuff too, and I make my own clothes, not from scratch though: when my dad lost a load of weight last year he gave me lots of his old classic-Skinhead style Fred Perry shirts, so I took the sleeves off and restitched them for make them into little fitted dresses for me (: I made the patchwork throw on mine and Nina's bed too, and various cushions and blankets and stuffs around the apartment. Our photography and paintings are everywhere too (: My hair's naturally dark but I pur a very slightly reddish tint over it, and a tend to just wear enough eyemakeup to make my eyes look bigger, and a little pinky highlighter on my cheekbones. Nina, on the other hand, has long, wavy, baby pink hair, bright green eyes and very dark shapely eyebrows. She wears vintage, and lots of grungy ripped teeshirts and tight jeans and a little flick of gray eyeliner; she has real beautiful catlike eyes (: I've talked too much, as always (: I feel like I should've talked about my story-writing style here, but it says to write about me so here I am (: Oh, and if you're gonna take me out on a date, I like Italian and Japanese (:


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Two And A Half Men - Season 4 DVD
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Two And A Half Men - Season 4 DVD Product Description
Please note this is a region 2 DVD and will require a region 2 or region free DVD player in order to play.
The complete fourth season of the popular American sitcom. Charlie (Charlie Sheen) is a well-to-do bachelor with a house at the beach, a Jaguar in the garage and an easy way with women. His casual Malibu lifestyle is interrupted when his tightly wound brother, Alan (Jon Cryer), who's facing a divorce, and Alan's son, Jake (Angus T. Jones), come to stay with him. Together, these two and a half men confront the challenges of growing up - finally. Episodes comprise: 'Working for Caligula', 'Who's Vod Kanockers?', 'The Sea Is a Harsh Mistress', 'A Pot Smoking Monkey', 'A Live Woman of Proven Fertility', 'Apologies for the Frivolity', 'Repeated Blows to His Unformed Head', 'Release the Dogs', 'Corey's Been Dead for an Hour', 'Kissing Abraham Lincoln', 'Walnuts and Demerol', 'Castrating Sheep in Montana', 'Don't Worry, Speed Racer', 'That's Summer Sausage, Not Salami', 'My Damn Stalker', 'Young People Have Phlegm Too', 'I Merely Slept With a Commie', 'It Never Rains in Hooterville', 'Smooth as a Ken Doll', 'Aunt Myra Doesn't Pee a Lot', 'Tucked, Taped and Gorgeous', 'Mr. McGlue's Feedbag', 'Anteaters, They're Just Crazy-lookin'' and 'Prostitutes and Gelato'.
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Popupshop Gym Piece - Cat 3
Popupshop Gym Piece - Cat 3
Classic stretchy soft jersey gym suit in supreme quality. Please note, comes with long sleeves.
Fit tip
Fits true to size.
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Billie and Axel are two very young Swedish-Canadian citizens that are happily growing up in the French and English speaking environment of Montréal (Quebec, Canada). All items have been handpicked with a desire to bring the best of international fashion and decoration to young Canadian kids & parents. Hands down the best range of good quality, long lasting clothing and unique designs you can find!
Questions + Comments


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Author: HatefulRodeo
Story: The Wolf That Worships The Moon
Notes: Random PWP with one of my favorite pairings. This will contain Yaoi! Enjoy Lovelies!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I will not make any money from the posting of this story.
~*~*~*Chapter 1~*~*~*
Hatake Kakashi peered over the brim of his beloved Icha Icha Paradise; the silver haired ex-Anbu was captivated by the beautiful body and face of one Hyūga Neji.
To Kakashi the younger man was the epitome of perfection; dark, almost waist length, cocoa tresses that swayed as the Jounin walked past. Pale skin that seemed to shine even in the daylight.
Neji's wide white eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul; unraveling all your secrets with just one piercing look. Kakashi would be blind if he hadn't noticed Neji's body; sleek, slender with just the right amount of muscle and curve.
The seventeen year old Hyūga prodigy was gorgeous. Kami knew how much Kakashi wanted the younger male for his own but therein lied the crux of Kakashi's hesitation to take what he wanted. Neji was only seventeen and while in the eyes of the village this made Neji an adult it still made Kakashi feel a bit like a dirty old man.
All throughout his life Kakashi strived to do the right thing, tried to take the correct path; even when his choices seemed to backfire on him spectacularly. Still the Sharingan user tried his hardest to do the honorable thing.
However, if his craving for the Hyūga prodigy didn't abate soon Kakashi was going to give honor the finger and take what he wanted. The older man snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a weighty stare on him.
Casting his uncovered dark eye around surreptitiously he froze when he met the pale, curious, eyes of his obsession Hyūga Neji. Kakashi ripped his gaze away from the younger man's and quickly stood, stowing his treasured book in his pouch, and disappeared in a swirl of leaves.
The last thing the masked man saw before he disappeared was Neji moving towards where he had just been sitting not a moment before. The gorgeous younger man's eyes showing emotions Kakashi couldn't recognize in their pearly depths.
The next few days Kakashi made an effort to avoid Neji but it was becoming harder and harder to evade the stubborn teen. Wherever the ex-Anbu went Neji seemed to find him; quite a few times the long haired Jounin had almost caught the wily Copy-Nin.
He should have known his luck wouldn't hold for very much longer and eventually the stunning Hyūga would catch up to him. The chase ended when Neji finally cornered him in his apartment no less. Kakashi knew their game of chase was up so he resigned himself to listening to what the younger man wanted to say.
"Kakashi-Sensei..." Kakashi looked at the slightly nervous teen in front of him and almost chuckled at the uncharacteristic fidgeting Neji seemed to be experiencing at the moment. However, Kakashi was a man who could, generally, control himself and remained quiet so the flustered Hyūga could continue.
Neji attempted to speak his piece again with no success. The older man smiled through his mask. Letting the younger man know it was okay, that the pale eyed teen could take as long as he'd like. Finally, the the smaller man spoke in a low, rush of words, barely discernible even with Kakashi's excellent hearing.
"I like you and I know you like me. You stare at me all the time when you think I'm not looking. I just wanted you to know how I felt and maybe if you're interested we could go out sometime." The last words were mumbled but Kakashi heard it all.
It took him a few moments to assimilate what the Hyūga had, in fact, said and several more to realize what Neji's confession meant in regards to him. Lifting his cycloptic stare back onto the blushing face of his infatuation Kakashi knew he was screwed.
Completely, and utterly, screwed because he was indeed going to take Neji up on his offer. Kakashi's hesitancy from a few days prior was quickly thrown out the window in the face of this tempting offer.
But anyone who knew Hatake Kakashi knew he couldn't resist needling someone should the opportunity arise and apparently prospective lovers were not exempt from his teasing. "Mah Neji-kun likes me? Hmm I'm flattered."
Kakashi knew he pushed the younger man to far when Neji's eyes took on a slightly hurt look and when the smaller man moved to leave Kakashi knew what he had to do. Moving with the speed that made him one of Konoha's best Kakashi was quickly holding Neji's firm body against his.
The younger male nuzzled the older man's firm chest with his nose while Kakashi took a moment to bury his masked face into the shorter man's soft hair; inhaling Neji's sweet and unique scent, feeling goose bumps erupt on his flesh from the close proximity to the other man's tempting body.
Kakashi's cock began to stir on its own accord; Neji certainly wasn't helping the taller man stay in control with the way he kept nuzzling and sighing happily in contentment. Tightening his arms Kakashi pressed his covered lips to the crown of Neji's head before he pulled away.
Neji stared at him, looking a little put out by the abrupt separation but quickly composed himself. With a smile showing through his mask Kakashi spoke; "Neji, I want you, I do, and if you keep doing what you're doing I'm not going to be able to resist taking you."
The beautiful man in front of him cocked his head to the side in an adorably cute manner as he digested Kakashi's warning; "But what if I want you to take me?" His new lover's words hit the silver haired man with the force of Tsunade's chakra backed fist.
Swallowing, Kakashi looked deep into those gorgeous white eyes, staring to see if Neji was being completely serious. Looking hard to see that he understood what he was asking Kakashi for. He saw nothing but want and affection in those normally guarded pale eyes.
A thrill of anticipation rippled up the taller man's spine, moving forward Kakashi grabbed the Hyūga, pulling him back into his firm arms. Lifting a long slender hand Kakashi grasped Neji's hand, and brought it up to his mask.
Neji seemed to understand what the silver haired male wanted and grasped Kakashi's mask and slowly pulled it down, exposing the lower half of the older man's face. A gasp was heard causing Kakashi to open eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed.
His already semi-hardened cock jumped to its full length when the Sharingan user saw the lust developing in those pale eyes. Kakashi couldn't resist those pouty lips, and crashed his thin lips to Neji's plump ones. He quite enjoyed the feel of the younger man's mouth on his.
Kakashi thrust his tongue past the other man's lips, gliding his slippery appendage against Neji's. The younger man tentatively stroked his tongue against Kakashi's in return. The ex-Anbu couldn't stop the rumbling moan that escaped from his mouth when he tasted the other.
Neji tasted like green tea, dango, and something bitter that Kakashi couldn't place; all he knew is he liked it and wanted more of that taste. Neji's hand was still grasping his lowered mask while his other hand was clasped tightly in Kakashi's vest.
Kakashi's hands were settled on the younger man's shapely hips, holding the younger man's taut body close to his larger one. He was quickly losing his ability for rational thought but he did know that didn't want their first time to be anywhere but his large comfy bed.
Breaking away from the intense kiss; he had to restrain himself from tacking the man in his arms when he heard the whimper escape Neji when they parted, Kakashi took a deep breath and a step back, letting their arms unravel from around each other.
His larger pale hand reached out, taking Neji's smaller one in his while he began to make his way toward the bedroom. Once they entered the room Kakashi began to strip his lover slowly.
Savoring the sighs and little moans being wrung from his gorgeous young lover as he licked and nipped the skin he uncovered; soon Neji was nude before him.
Kakashi could only stare in awe at his lover's toned body. He always knew Neji was attractive but seeing him bare before his eye was overwhelming. His hand rose to the headband that covered his Sharingan and pulled the piece of fabric away so he could look upon this beautiful man with his mismatched eyes.
A sharp exhale of breath left Neji's swollen lips when his rare eyes met with Kakashi's; not many had the privilege of seeing his Sharingan and living to tell about it. A sexy smirk made its way to the older man's lips; it was nice to know that he had this much of an effect on the younger man just by exposing his face and gifted eye.
Slowly Konoha's famed Copy-Nin began to undress himself, shamelessly letting his lover watch his slow movements as he uncovered more porcelain skin littered with scars. When both men were, finally, stripped of their clothing they stared at each other in reverence, feasting on the site of their exposed flesh.
The lust was building in the Hatake's body as he surveyed Neji's body completely, taking in every detail. Neji's skin was pale much like his own, those gorgeous mocha locks stood out against it in sharp contrast as it flowed over his lithe shoulders.
Letting his eyes drift the older man let his gaze rest on the hard leaking cock nestled in a bed of dark curls. Another shiver of need, this one more urgent, rippled through Kakashi's strong form.
Bringing his wandering eyes back up he met those ethereal white orbs. It hit him then that Hyūga Neji was like the moon; radiant, captivating, and serene.
Many people had compared Kakashi to a wolf. If this was the case than Neji was his moon and he would spend the rest of the night worshipping that gorgeous body until they were both sated and sweaty.
Chapter Two will contain the slash!
I wrote this as a break from my multi-chapter fics...nice to write a simple slashy two-shot.
All Mistakes Are My Own!