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$10 For $20 Worth Of Polish Cuisine
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When new offers are available from this business.


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Microsoft Corp said it began the worldwide roll-out of Office 2016, the latest addition to its cloud-based subscription service Office 365, on Tuesday.
Microsoft said Office 2016 brings new versions of desktop apps for Windows including Word, PowerPoint, Excel, Outlook and Access and allows people to collaborate and work together.
"These latest innovations take another big step forward in transforming Office from a familiar set of individual productivity apps to a connected set of apps and services designed for modern working, collaboration and teamwork," Chief Executive Satya Nadella said in a statement.

subset: commoncrawl


text: Wrap Session MILAN — There is more than one way of spinning spring's short and sultry looks. Miuccia Prada, for example, who startled the fashion world with her Prada glamazons for fall, moved away from that overt sexiness for spring. She placed her... WWD Staff load comments blog comments powered by Disqus


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it's a story of boy meets girl meets hotdog meets suburban van meets stick shift meets guy meets girl
Category: Erotica - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Erotica,Humor,Romance - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2015-11-20 - 3490 words - Complete
Site design Copyright 2005, K&D Lynch. All stories contained in this archive are the property of their respective authors, and the owners of this site claim no responsibility for their contents.
Page created in 0.1749 seconds


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Nike CR7 Mercurial Victory VI Dynamic Fit – Reviewby
The CR7 Mercurial Victory. A dynamic fit, styled like CR7's Superfly. Hit or Miss, Luca tells all >>
The CR7 Mercurial Victory. A dynamic fit, styled like CR7's Superfly. Hit or Miss, Luca tells all >>
Self confessed adidas boot geek Luca gets his hands on the New Balance Visaro. Can the new boots on the block turn his head? Find out here >>
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While it may not be difficult to buy replacement parts for Chevrolet vehicles, these days only the absolute best are required to repair your car or truck. Auto enthusiasts know that a trusted name is built into each Chevrolet, and know that only top quality repair C20 Panel parts will suffice when your car or truck needs fixing. Chevrolet vehicle drivers have grown accustomed to a certain level of reliability when driving their C20 Panel around town. It's not a regular occurrence that you discover you need a replacement Control Arm to repair your automobile.
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Buttocks Augmentation (Butt Implants) Before and After Pictures by Robert Rho, M.D., F.A.A.C.S.
Additional procedures:Body Reshaping, Brazilian Butt Lift, Cosmetic Surgery of the Body
Butt Augmentation Surgery This patient was deficient in her buttocks and wanted to have maximum projection of her buttocks.
Patient DetailsSex: Female
Age: 27 years old
Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 117 lbs
Skin Tone: Dark
Procedure performed on: Buttocks, Groin
Before and After Pictures
Click on an Image to View Full Size
Performed by Robert Rho, M.D., F.A.A.C.S., New York, New York
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Shares of dental supplier Align Technology (ALGN) were down 26% by early trading Thursday, continuing their free fall after the company's earnings report late Wednesday disappointed.
As IBD reported, the maker of Invisalign "invisible" braces badly missed Wall Street estimates and cut its outlook, plus created uncertainty by saying it wasn't sure if it was going to take a goodwill impairment charge from an acquisition last year. On the conference call with analysts, CEO Thomas Prescott said company's research into its market showed "conflicting" data.
"On the one hand, data such as the surprisingly strong recent consumer-sentiment ratings, as well as the uptick in visitors to Invisalign.com, and Find A Doctor searches point to continued strong consumer interest," he said. "On the other hand, additional insight from our customers regarding Invisalign in their practices indicate that more adult patients were delaying or pushing out acceptance of their ClinCheck treatment plans this summer and early fall, possibly due to concerns about the economy."
Like most other medical firms this quarter, Align reported weak sales in Europe, which Prescott said was exacerbated by an "execution miss" in Italy that led to a replacement in that department's leadership.
Align's rival, shareholder and possible buyer Danaher (DHR) was down nearly 5% after missing expectations with its results reported early Thursday. The ominous signs for the industry put other dental stocks under pressure: Sirona Dental Systems (SIRO) was down nearly 3%, Patterson Cos. (PDCO) and Henry Schein (HSIC) were each down about 3%, and Dentsply (XRAY) was off 2%.
Align's shares had more than doubled the past 12 months through Wednesday and it has been a regular member of the IBD 50 rankings of top stocks, but shares were trading at seven-month lows early Thursday, near 26.20.


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|Message view
|« Date » · « Thread »
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|"Dennis E. Hamilton" <dennis.hamil...@acm.org>
|RE: [DISCUSS] <Initial Committer> (was Re: When does one become a committer?)
|Mon, 01 Aug 2011 21:22:09 GMT
There is going to be a new reminder. Thanks for reminding me about that. That won't be the final reminder. The final reminder will be to those who don't respond to the new reminder. We are still looking at a mid-(say 3rd week) August date for that reminder, with a curfew in mid-September. That's my understanding. I'll post the revised new-reminder draft here as I prepare to send out the individual reminders. - Dennis With regard to the "When ..." thread, the conversation is when is any committer/PPMC member established as a committer/PPMC member? My view is not until they have the keys. No moving into the house until you close on the deal. Different incomplete discussion though. -----Original Message----- From: Rob Weir [mailto:email@example.com] Sent: Monday, August 01, 2011 12:47 To: email@example.com Subject: Re: When does one become a committer? I don't think we closed on this discussion. How long to we keep the initial committer's invitations valid? I was suggesting Sept 15th as a cut-off. I thought we were going to send out one final reminder to all who had not responded yet. Did that happen? -Rob On Sat, Jul 23, 2011 at 7:50 PM, Rob Weir <firstname.lastname@example.com> wrote: > On Sat, Jul 23, 2011 at 5:50 PM, Shane Curcuru <firstname.lastname@example.com> wrote: >> This is a great discussion. One meta-point to consider: how important (re: >> urgent) is this to decide right now? >> > > The discussion continues to resurface and is unresolved. One possible > outcome is that we rescind the committer invitations of those who do > not progress in a reasonable time period to submit their iCLA. > Hopefully we all agree that if we go down that path, then deciding in > advance and giving ample warning, is preferable then just doing this > as an ad hoc decision of the PPMC on an individual case. In other > words, it will be perceived as more fair if we do this as a matter of > policy and do it consistently. > > And of course, agreeing not to decide would be a decision as well. > >> If people find this work interesting, that's great. But in terms of rules >> and procedures, sometimes it's fine to not over-document the rules until >> there's a case where they're really needed. >> > > Since this topic continues to come up and is unresolved, I think a > general rule is appropriate, provided we can agree on what that rule > should be. We don't need to address fanciful hypothetical, but like > a reusable code module, we should design a rule that addresses the > foreseeable cases. And like code can be changed, so can rules. > >> Note that it's pointless to attempt to provide an individual theoretical >> standing to make project decisions without an iCLA until we have such a case >> actually happen; then we can have the individual work with legal-internal@ >> to understand why they won't sign the iCLA. iCLAs are strictly mandatory to >> be a committer, no exceptions. >> >> - Shane, who thinks someone can cast a binding vote as a committer (i.e. on >> code modifications) after they have submitted the iCLA, and who can cast a >> binding vote on (P)PMC matters once their addition to the (P)PMC has been >> properly ACKd by the IPMC or the project chair. >> >> On 7/23/2011 2:40 PM, Rob Weir wrote: >>> >>> After we vote in a new committer, there are several steps that follow, >>> including sending them an note telling them they've been voted in, >>> having them return an iCLA, waiting for the iCLA to be recorded, >>> choosing an Apache ID, getting an Apache account, etc. >>> >>> At what point are they considered officially to be a committer? For >>> example, at what point can they veto a code modification? >>> >>> I'm trying to better understand the status of those who never complete >>> the above set of steps. >>> >>> >>> -Rob >> >
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Author's Notes:
Hi! I know I am a very lousy author. I can't concentrate on one fanfic at a time. Gomen! Anyways, hope you like this one.
It's not my destiny to be Naruto's beloved nor to be his owner (although I would very much like to be both), therefore I do not own Naruto.
by Boyarina
Chapter 1: Gaara's Sand
Hinata, if it actually is applicable to her, is just about ready to kill. If it hadn't been for the legendary self-control that all Hyuugas naturally possess, she would have instantly gone for the throat by now.
Cut the air supply, and bleed the bastard dry. Yes, this poor, fumbling Hinata that everyone thought weak would have very much like to take advantage of this chance had it presented itself right now.
This is getting ridiculous. Neji-niisan had always been protective of her, but this level of guardianship should be prohibited in all villages (hidden or not).
All she did was hang out with Gaara! And that is definitely not a crime.
Okay so maybe it was a little bit dangerous considering that you could never really fathom what mood (killer or just plain sour) Gaara would be in, but still! It so does not merit the kind of behaviour that Neji-niisan had allotted to it.
Technically, the term 'hanging out with Gaara' does not even describe the time she had spent with the kazekage. Considering that she had merely bumped into him in the hallway during the time she was making her way to get some nice evening air, and had gotten trapped in his sand--well, you could hardly call that hanging out.
Neji-niisan should not have been mad in the first place for if it is at the idea that she was hanging out with Gaara-sama he had been pissed at, she definitely have not done any of the sort.
Due to the mountains of paper work that had been dumped to her, Hinata had thought that a time off for this evening is in order. The combined effects of mountains of paperwork, long hot day, strained formality (a facade of nobility for the elders of Suna) had finally driven her out of her room, lest she suffers the effects of suffocation.
Wearing the lightest of all her clothing--a light bue shirt that is held by white wide straps on her shoulders and a white skirt that reached past her knees, she slipped out of her room, checking to make sure that nobody would be there to catch the sight of her leaving.
A mere five feet from her chamber doors, and she started celebrating her luck as she had made her escape from her room undetected. It did not last long though. Dashing her happy thoughts of freedom is the trail of sand that started to snake around her ankles, pinning her in place.
Breath hitched in the back of her throat as she brought her two hands to her chest in a nervous gesture she has never really grown out of. She would have started panicking, instinct to fight and defend herself would have taken over right after if Gaara hadn't shown himself from his darkened corner.
"Where are you going, Hinata-sama?" he asked using that husky voice she had associated with him whenever he is speaking in front of polite society. He looked at her expectantly so she gave him a shaky smile in return.
"G-gonna," Hinata whispered, berating herself for stumbling on the first word she uttered to him directly. With an effort, she sucked in a lungful of air and gathered her courage to look him straight in the eye all the while ignoring the sand swirling around her legs and her feet.
"Gonna play hooky," She finally answered, smiling a bit sheepishly at how foolish her idea was.
It is nearly midnight after all.
"Do you want me to accompany you?" Gaara-sama offered, his face not sporting its usual taut mask. He didn't call his sand to retract from her...(she would have said feet but the said type of soil is now practically on her thigh)...limb though, making her a tiny bit wary.
Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it. IGNORE IT.
"I'd love that, Gaara-sama," Hinata replied, surprising even herself by not trembling given the situation that she is in. He could put her inside his desert coffin right now and no one would have been the wiser.
"Where are you going, Hinata-sama?"
That's a very good question. Right now, Hinata have no idea. Before, it had seemed to her a very good plan to just simply walk out the kazekage tower and let her feet take her to God-knows-where. Since she had always done it in Konoha, she figured she'd do the same here in Suna. Never had it occurred to her that she'd be caught though for not once had she been caught in Konoha.
Well, not to her knowledge anyways.
Hinata ducked her head, feeling once again foolish and sheepish.
"I...figured I could just wander around a bit...," she answered, voice trailing off, and fingers involuntarily starting to stage a battle in front of her and Gaara-sama. Hastily, she put them away and stole a peek at him. Much to her befuddlement, she found him smiling at her very, very, very slightly.
If she didn't know that her eyesight is 20/20 (if not more), she would have rubbed her eyes and looked again at the Kazekage closely. But she knows what she had seen and she knows that there had been no mistake in it.
"Planning to get lost, are we?" he asked her, amusement very much obvious in his tone. Though she knows that he is most probably laughing at her, she chuckled along with him.
"Considering that you are going to come with me, getting lost is already out of the picture. Or," Hinata paused, looking at him slyly before faking a worried expression. "Should I be asking you that?"
Gaara-sama's face flushed pink here for a second, but quickly went back to its normal stoic expression. It had happened so fast, Hinata once again nearly doubted her eyesight, thinking that it is probably playing tricks on her.
But, again, there could not have been any mistake. It was there and she knew it. Now, the only thing she is most curious about is what exactly triggered that.
"No worries," Gaara-sama said, his tone now more subdued (probably due to that flustered moment she had witnessed)," I know this place like the back of my hand."
That husky voice is going to be permanently fixed in my mind was Hinata's last deliciously disturbing thought that night when Neji-niisan barged into their encounter looking pissed as hell.
I am trying to revise some chapters of Sassy-chan, all the chapters in All in Time and writing this fic because I need to drown in the Naruto-ness of it all. bows


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It's never too early or too late to learn how to budget and save money at home through these steps and others who have the same advocacy as us.
Save money at home, as well as learn how to budget the right way now!


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Somehow from Lilith analysing my blood I ended up sat on a sofa with my head buried in Fang's arm. Being told I was part vampire didn't bother me much, I always knew I was different somehow, but it was all too much to handle over a week. And Fang's delicious, calming scent was there, taunting me. He sat barely breathing until Aya returned to the room. Fang eyed him suspiciously.
"Hallie, I hate to say this but we need to feed. All of us. We need to be as strong as possible when Blade attacks. And that will be soon" Fang said softly, like a father comforting a scared child during a thunderstorm.
"It's okay. I'm sure the hermit can protect me" I said, trying to stay cheerful.
"Y'know you could always…" Aya said, raising his eyebrows as he paused.
"And go against everything I've ever believed?" Fang snapped.
Aya rolled his eyes and trudged upstairs. I wondered if he was going up to the attic again. I wouldn't mind going back up there, it was kind of nice. But I was scared. I wasn't scared for myself, nor for Morrigan or Tawny. I was scared for Fang. Love clouds judgement and that was something we couldn't afford to happen. One slip up and it could be all over. I wasn't scared that Blade would capture me, he seemed like a reasonable person who could be talked out of a situation, but I was scared of what he might do to Tawny and the others. He'd killed Morrigan without mercy and would have done the same to Aya had he not been interrupted. Who knew what else he would do?
The day passed in a blur. Nothing made much sense and tensions were high. Then before I knew it, night had fallen and Aya and Morrigan were heading out for a feeding trip. Lilith had occupied herself listening to the hermit's tales and Tawny was busy "cooking up a storm for the resident human".
"Fang, how is it you guys can eat food? Like regular food" I asked the pacing man.
"We can handle it in small quantities. It doesn't have much nutritional value but it can keep us going between feeds as it's slow to digest" he said calmly though he was clearly panicked.
"Fang… I… Can we go upstairs for a second?"
He nodded. We slowly ascended the stairs in silence and ambled up to the door to my room.
"What did you want?" he asked, confusion flooding his eyes.
"Somewhere we could talk without Tawny listening. Fang, I… I want you to turn me into a vampire. That's what all this is about. I… I'm fed up of being the defenceless human who has to be protected all the time. At least this way when Blade attacks I can help out".
Fang sighed. "Are you sure you want this?"
I nodded. I'd never been more sure of anything.
"It wont be like in the movies. There wont be any candles or roses… unless you want that".
"Somewhere to sit is good enough for me".
He smiled and opened my bedroom door. He leant over and whispered "Go ahead, I'll be right back" and disappeared with the stealth of a cat.
I slipped into the room. It was dark though the curtains were open. I guess the day really had flown by. In the room there was a serious lack of chairs. The closest thing was a footstool. A footstool! What's the point having a footstool if there's nowhere to sit? The door to Tawny's room stood open. Of course there'd be a chair in there, she was the owner of the Libellule fortune and manor house. If she didn't have a chair nobody would. I would happily have sat on the bed for my transformation but the sheets were white silk and expensive and I didn't want to bleed on them. Not that I was counting on bleeding anywhere. I tiptoed through the doorway, paranoid that Lilith would appear from nowhere, and beheld Tawny's room. Silver. Dragonflies. Crystals. Silk. Everywhere. And luckily a chair. It was oak and of simple build but it would do. I took it through to my room and made doubly sure to shut and lock the adjoining door. The chair was set down and in position, all that was required now was Fang. Where was he? As if in answer to my question he slipped through the door, holding something large and rectangular under his arm. Mom's mirror.
"When you wake up you'll need something to remind you of who you are. I figured this would be best" he said, leaning it against the mirror in the dressing table.
The mirror sat reflecting my image, acting like a giant eye for my mom's spirit. At least, that's what I thought. I couldn't leave it like that. I wouldn't let myself leave it like that. I grabbed a spare sheet and hung it over the mirror. Fang could uncover it when all this was over, then I didn't have to feel like Mom saw me change. I didn't want her to see. I heard Fang shut the door and then all was silent. I sat. I could tell he was moving around but I couldn't hear him. I felt him near the chair. Then his face was pressed against mine, his mouth by my ear.
"You're sure you want this" he whispered.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life" I said, trying to hold my nerve. Surely if I was already part vampire I'd have the healing abilities and the strength, right?
He smiled. Then he was gone again. Then back, brushing my hair away from my neck. I felt his breath on the back of my neck. It was so icy it gave me goose bumps. Then his mouth was at the side of my neck, lingering around my throat.
"You're absolutely sure?" he said, his jaw brushing against the skin on my neck.
"Yes. I'm sure, Why do you keep asking?" I asked crabbily.
"All humans have the right to execute free will. That's what I was taught and that's what I believe. Now, one last time, are you sure?"
"Yes" it came out as more of a whisper.
He nodded. He tilted my head to the side a little and planted a kiss on the side of my neck. I could feel his razor sharp teeth just a few millimetres from my throat, from my bloodstream, from the end of my frail human existence. A loud crash disrupted him. Next thing, Lilith had jumped on him and was trying to injure him without causing too much damage. At least I think that's what she was doing. Either way, her hits weren't very effective and any cuts only lasted a few seconds. She and Fang battled for a few minutes until shouting could be heard rising up the staircase.
"This isn't over, Fang" Lilith said coldly before facing the door to await whatever force was coming.
Fang bolted upright from the position he'd been tackled into. Of the two shouting voices I only recognised one: Tawny.
"Teach you to sneak in here!" floated up and into the room, followed by a dull thud.
And before we knew it, in walked a blood-splattered Tawny. Being dragged behind her was… a body. She slid the body across the wooden floor towards Fang and Lilith. The body stopped before their feet and showed a few signs of life. A smile spread across Tawny's lips and she laughed. It was a crazed laugh.
"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in" she said with an evil undertone in her voice.
The body in front of us slowly unfurled itself to reveal a bloodied mess of blonde hair and tan skin.


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text:
Simon Neilson-Clark
Firm:DLA Piper
Rudnick Gray Cary
Partner since: 1994
Educated: University of Newcastle upon Tyne
Key clients: Barclays Bank, Deloitte & Touche, GE Commercial Finance, KPMG, Royal Bank of Scotland Group
When retail insolvency returned to the headlines, one partner and his team were in prime position to pick up most of the work. DLA Piper Rudnick Gray Cary's head of restructur-ing Simon Neilson-Clark landed a trio of instruct-ions over Christmas and the New Year. Neilson-Clark acted for Pricewaterhouse-Coopers in the administration of Canterbury Foods and won a double bill from Kroll in the rescue of entertainment retailer MVC and off-licence chain Unwins. The work meant the group spent most of the holidays in the office, but it also demonstrated the depth of Neilson-Clark's practice in taking on three high-profile cases in such a short space of time.


text:
If you've ever seen a restaurant in the Wauwatosa area that you've wanted to try but couldn't find the time or money to stop in, 10 Days in Tosa might give you the chance to try it.
10 Days in Tosa is an event with two goals, to showcase local dining options and to raise money for the Wauwatosa Chamber of Commerce. The event features dining options from local restaurants at the $5, $10 and $20 level. There are more than 20 restaurants participating in this event. Customers do not need to use cards, coupons or passes to take advantage of the discounts.
Dan Sidner, co-owner of Blue's Egg and Maxie's Southern Comfort, both of which will participate in 10 Days in Tosa, said "last year was a qualified success. It was a very different format from what we're doing this year. Last year we had patrons buy cards to participate and different restaurants had different offerings and it was too complicated. Now it's much more streamlined, each restaurant can make an offer at $5, $10 or $20."
The event is sponsored by a number of groups including, ITStaff Technical Resources, AmeriSign & Graphics, WeMerge Media, Wisconsin Public Radio and a number of local restaurants and groups.
Terry Estness, the Executive Director of the Chamber of Commerce, said, "The program (last year) was very successful and generated about $4,000 in revenue for the chamber. The public's comments were strong enough to try to repeat it with some changes. The changes were modeled to fit the consumers and were modeled around downtown dining."
10 Days in Tosa will take place Sept. 10 through 19. Savings vary, but can be found by visiting http://10daysintosa.com/specials.html.
Sidner said that it was a priority for him that he makes an offer that's representative of his menu, adding "Talking to people on the downtown dining week (last year), the biggest complaint is that the other restaurants were doing something that wasn't representative of their menu to either showcase themselves or to save money. We pulled items directly off our menu and allowed guests to try them at a discount."
A complete list of restaurants that are participating and a complete list of sponsors can be found by going to 10daysintosa.com.
More from News and Features
- Anodyne Coffee plans to open location in Wauwatosa Village
- Wauwatosa Meetings: Aug. 4
- Video: Wauwatosa girl's curbside ice cream stand raises money for the hungry
- Wauwatosa News and Notes: Hands-only CPR training offered; Firefly Art Fair is Aug. 6-7
- Wauwatosa Ask Now: Why are there barriers and fencing along the North Avenue bridges over the Menomonee River?
- Mystery Photo Contest: July 28
- Wauwatosa gears up for National Night Out event, this year at the zoo
- Election 2016: Wisconsin's 4th District candidates weigh in
- Wauwatosa's Luther Manor residents share smiles through flower delivery
- Wauwatosa Police Report: July 17-23


text:
I know, it's been forever and I apologize. I had so many time-consuming computer problems and the holidays were extremely hectic. Nevertheless, I'm going to work on a tad quicker updating, which should be easier now that I have a new laptop with a full functioning and customized word processor. We're getting into the plot more, now, which I am happy about, and yes, I will remind everyone this is rated M for Mature, even though I'm not phased by it. Remind me to do a Reviewer's Corner so I can list you amazing reviewers in an upcoming chapter.
Other News: Those who read my high school AU, expect an update soon. For those who enjoy the NaruIno pairing, keep watch for a one-shot. Sha La!
Reviews make me happy, as always.
Chapter Three: Unconventionality
She's got all these men around her
Reeling them in
Her beauty's a sin.
(Follow the mission).
But the one in her heart
Put the rock on her finger
Amidst their pending deaths.
Six shinobi, poised on figurative tenterhooks.
One silent room.
Curtains drawn and fire fed periodically by whomever happened to be pacing past it at the time; whoever was not unwillingly forced into a corner by common fear of the unknown, the news they wished to know. None dared to speak, however, for they were lost in the convoluted horror that was still viscously sinking in and reducing them to a buzzing silence.
A silence in which everyone thought, yet no one spoke. The tension was painfully overwhelming.
Two males paced in front of the fire; it hissed and crackled and spoke to them with an obstinate, snide tone that they promptly ignored. The taller of them stalked haughtily, his arrogant air of grace notwithstanding; hands weighing down the thin pockets of his lean ANBU uniform, he kept his blank façade in place. Unfortunately, the bitterness was hard to miss, and his companion threw him the same questioning glance of concern.
Cerulean eyes stared at the girl curled up in the chair, catlike, long cobalt blue locks spilling over the patterned blanket tucked tightly around her form. Arms folded, the blonde stood behind the Hyuuga with her lean frame supported by the wall, gaze unfocused. Naruto's unnaturally observant expression lingered upon his childhood crush, a woman so strong in both medical skills and mind, flicking the end of a sharpened kunai across her knuckle, lips tight.
Sasuke had ceased his unnerving pacing, a shadowed expression clouding his aristocratic face; Sakura reacted to the slice across her hand as much as she had to the popping fire. Everyone else had given a start.
Six pairs of eyes stared at the bolted door, apprehension skewed upon every pale face. Shikamaru turned from the window and the contemplative, pale sky he had been covertly watching through a slit in the heavy curtain, crossing the wood floor with firm steps to put his hand around the knob.
"Kakashi Hatake, returning to assume command."
Naruto bounded toward the door, but Sasuke put out an arm to halt him. "Ask him a question."
Shikamaru nodded. "What should I ask him?"
"OH!" Naruto exclaimed, and ducked under Sasuke's outstretched arm, pressing his face obnoxiously against the wood; Hinata stifled a giggle.
"Kakashi-sensei-; that is, if you really are my sensei," he added hastily, furrowing his brow in a mockery of a well-seasoned detective. "Question me this!"
"Answer me this," Shikamaru corrected quietly, rolling his eyes.
"Kakashi Hatake," Naruto whispered dramatically, "What is your catchphrase?"
"Ah, catchphrase?" the jounin repeated, amused.
"Ya know, when you always used to make us wait on the bridge, when we were younger, and I would be all 'He's late, damn it!' and Sakura would agree with me and then Sasuke would just 'Hnnn' and fold his arms and not care, and then you would show up on the railing and say-"
"Got lost on the path of life," he murmured almost wistfully through the door; a lingering, nostalgic sadness tinged his words. As if he missed those innocent days with his Genin.
Naruto lunged for the doorknob, eyes alight and boyish grin in place as he yanked open the door. "You're right, sensei! And that was a long time ag-"
Sakura clapped a hand over her mouth, kunai forgotten as it slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor with a piercing, resounding ring. Hands shaking as she rose from the couch, eyes widened in silent horror as they surveyed his injuries. The other young shinobi gaped as he stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him without a word to satisfy their curious and stricken expressions. With a sheepish grin and a half-hearted wave: "Ah… hey!"
"What happened to you?" Sakura whispered, clearly distressed.
"The first shinobi was a decoy that I didn't expect to run into. Seems as if he didn't expect me, either," the jounin stated conversationally, walking further into the room. Hinata jumped up from her chair and hurriedly crossed the room to prudently place it at the head of the table. "Nevertheless, there wouldn't be foreign shinobi in a place like this; so full of little villages and commoners, he must have been tipped off."
The injured man sat heavily upon the proffered chair and could not help letting the back of it support his weight; watching him, Sakura straightened a bit as she walked briskly to the table, summoning leadership and take-charge attitude without missing a beat. Professionalism abounded, but nevertheless her eyes betrayed the worry sinking claws into her soft heart.
All eyes, whether or not shadowed, perfidy the truth.
Her sensei appeared so… uncharacteristically weak. And he knew how it looked.
"So someone knows we're on a mission. Or at least, on the move," Sasuke said flatly, shattering the silence.
"Unfortunately, yes," his former teacher replied. "I have a lot to say in a short amount of time, as well as our new mission from Tsunade."
"Wait, new mission? We're already on a mission. Are we splitting up?" Naruto barraged the jounin with questions until Hinata took his arm gently and gave him a saddened look. Leading him to a chair, the rest followed suit. Settling themselves around the table, silence descended swiftly as Sasuke took his seat last and without a disturbance, the chair flanking, empty. Sakura inspected Kakashi's arm deliberately, as if memorizing by sight alone every puncture and scrape and peculiarity sustained from his fight.
"Your shoulder is dislocated," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else listening, and gently, but firmly, maneuvered the arm until it quite literally popped into its socket. Kakashi grimaced.
"Anyway, let's get started. We have no less than fifteen minutes and I have details to give you, roles to assign," he began, recalling their wandering attention from sanguinary, less-than-pleasing memories of the morning. The medic continued to scrutinize his injuries and heal them as needed, little eyebrows furrowed and expression proficiently stoic.
Sasuke watched, arms folded and strictly-business façade in place. She heals all the broken things.
She heals me. At least, she tries. I'm beyond that.
The pink-haired woman paused, looking at the Uchiha out of the corner of her eye. As if she had heard.
Blood dripped resolutely from the jounin's injury, forming a crimson puddle. As each drop hit, it shook the rest.
She resumed, and Kakashi spoke.
"I gave Tsunade-sama a full account of the events that occurred in the unnamed village we discovered, clearly attacked by hostile shinobi. There is a possibility that it is linked to our undercover mission and those shinobi were searching for us, or hoping for us to stop for whatever reason. It's suspicious, and since it is so far from home, she is refraining from dispatching troops to investigate lest we draw attention to ourselves. It's probably what they want."
The thought of leaving so many innocent deaths pass under the radar without retaliation, rankled. So unjust.
"We have a deviation from the original plan, if only slight. Instead of heading straight to Damashi and laying low for a few days as the hired organization of Itachi, we have to, quite literally, take a detour to another town. Hidden shinobi of Konoha have reported several suspicious incidents, not to mention disturbing."
"Disturbing? How?" Ino asked.
"Reported accounts of public lynching, unprovoked beatings with no interference, other unconventional forms of death and genocide all conducted by several powerful shinobi that appear to be hired men. Presumably, someone else is pulling the strings. The inhabitants of the town are villagers, easily led and unaccustomed to technology, and there is unnaturally tight security."
"All unprovoked? Are they ritualistic?" Sakura inquired, pursing her lips as she delved into the speaker's arm wound with a pair of silver tongs. Removing the kunai fragment from within the folds of muscle tissue, she tilted her head slightly as she peeled the layers of dead skin away, leaving fleshy pinkness underneath.
"Yes, and somewhat," he responded, speaking to the table at large. "While several deaths seemed to be sport, many were accused of treason and charged with attempts to escape the village. Even children died for that."
"They don't want anyone leaving," Shikamaru said.
"Well, we'll have to," Kakashi stated grimly. "After a short infiltration, of course."
"Will we be fighting?" Naruto demanded.
"No. This is strictly infiltration, information-gathering. Everything collected will be sent along to Konoha on a tight-security line, and Tsunade-sama will judge it from there. We have more pressing matters to deal with."
"More pressing than this?" Sasuke inquired. He steeled himself for a moment, then continued. "Does Tsunade realize that-?"
"Itachi could be part of this, just as he is suspected to be for our main mission? Yes, she realizes that, Sasuke. You have a more important mission to be ready for. Not only that, you're not on action for this one."
Lips insufferably pursed in offense, the Uchiha eyed him in annoyance and indulged in his forte of short, clipped, angry sentences. "Why?"
Sakura finished wrapping Kakashi's arm, and smoothed the last tape edge as the green chakra faded from his limb. Looking up, she was startled to find him looking down at her with a very serious gaze; he motioned for her to sit.
Sasuke unfolded his arms and pulled her chair out with ample room for her to settle, and watched her carefully as she scooted up to the table. Turning his dark eyes on the jounin, he dared not repeat his question aloud. Kakashi's eyes flickered to Hinata, then to Ino, and back to Sakura.
"The only members of our group crossing those village limits will be…" he paused, unsure of how to continue.
"No. Not alone," Sasuke interjected. Naruto seemed puzzled, but even Shikamaru seemed hesitant to resign to a mission dictation set in stone.
"We don't have a choice. The only men that were reported crossing the borders were those that worked for their boss, and most of the men inside were being separated from their families and killed. Men will appear suspicious and we will be discovered. They have to go, Sasuke. She has to go."
"Hold on, are you saying Hina-chan and Sakura and Ino-pig are all going to do a mission on their own? In a place like that?" Naruto demanded maddeningly, glancing worriedly at the quiet female next to him. "Why are only the girls allowed in?"
"They can cross the borders easier," Kakashi replied quietly.
"Because?" Sasuke asked harshly, ignoring some nagging, uneasy feeling.
The jounin paused for a fraction of a second. "Because the women shipped into the village are… slaves."
Ino made an indistinct noise in her throat; Sasuke's threatening breaths whistled through his nose.
"Slaves for what, sensei?" Naruto asked, unconsciously latching to Hinata's sleeve under the table.
"Think about it, dobe."
The Kyuubi vessel raised his eyes to his rival's and held his gaze; Sasuke's anger and modicum of disgust was written all over his handsome face. Naruto flinched.
"That, Sasuke?"
Naruto's fingers curled around the Hyuuga's flowing sleeve as his eyes fell to observe his lap.
An uncomfortable silence descended, and the only palpable sound was that of their breathing, as everything else seemed otherworldly and detached. Sasuke was nearly quivering in suppressed anger that was coursing through him without an outlet, and it made his insides twist to see the girl next to him nod her head silently, resigning herself to it.
"They will be disguised. They will go in alone, gather information alone, and return without help from us until we can secure an area. We can't give ourselves away. No radios; it is likely the shinobi in charge will be able to intercept it, and we can't have that."
The Uchiha stared at the medic's thin hands, vibrating uncontrollably, ivory fingers twisted in her lap as if clinging to the only thing she had. Pretty face, expressionless.
And he felt the piercing fangs sink into the back of his neck, pumping a feverish power through his burning veins. They left, painfully tearing his skin and he fell to his knees. So young, so young…
She was screaming for him, hysterical, and he found her hand and clutched it. Clung. He fell upon her; he found her. She held him and cried, and pleaded and prayed and oh god, please be all right, don't scream anymore.
He found her.
And he hung on.
She seemed startled as his calloused hand protectively covered both of hers, and he inwardly cursed, for his was cold. Sakura was always so warm when he touched her, whether brushing accidentally or taking her by the wrist or forearm, his fingers against her face… whatever, she was inviting, and he was detached. Those fleeting memories in which she-
-touched his arm, or-
-raked her nails through his hair-
-her lips to his ear-
-bodies molded-
-and he would want her so badly, it frightened him-
-but he always drew back.
"It will only be one day. And we have a train to catch," Kakashi announced, jerking every shinobi from their painful reveries and ending the discussion abruptly. "Change into commoner attire. The station is a few blocks away, so don't waste time. Dismissed."
The jounin left without another word; Ino took one glance at her best friend's expression and motioned for Shikamaru to grab the bags and let them have the room. Hinata heeded, and led Naruto with her despite the blonde's attempts to catch Sasuke's eye; she cast a sorrowful glance to her friends before bolting the door from the inside and shutting it carefully.
Neither Sasuke nor Sakura had moved from the table and had left their hands just so, words, in retrospect, seeming a dismal failure.
Minutes passed painfully until Sakura tugged her hands from him and stood, closing her eyes for a long moment before nodding to him. "Let's dress."
Kneeling upon the hard wood floor, they rummaged through respective duffel bags in search of clothing with less shinobi flair as was necessary. Sasuke rose first and glanced at her; she was holding something, staring at it.
"Go ahead, Sasuke," she replied, waving her hand in a blasé fashion.
Proceeding to strip off his ANBU uniform completely, he realized when redressing just how many layers he wore, including the bandages adorning his arms and chest. Jeans felt incredibly light and not nearly as skin-tight but then, he could never run in them. All he could leave wrapped were his wrists and palms; the feeling was almost unnerving, as if completely unprotected.
"Hn," he repeated conversationally. She looked over her shoulder, eyeing him up and down in such a scrutinizing fashion that he thought it imprudent, then stood.
"Turn around, Sasuke-kun," she said quietly, almost teasingly. He dutifully obeyed, folding his arms across his chest and shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. She was silent for a minute or two and then startled him with an obstinate, stubborn grunt.
"Ah, Sakura?" he inquired tentatively, daring to glance over his shoulder.
Forgetting he whirled around to find her topless, sitting on the floor and making an angry face as she struggled to button her jeans. Blowing a strand of hair from her vision, she looked up at him sheepishly as he raised an eyebrow in her regard.
"Heh… they're tight."
"Ah. Don't wear them so tight."
"Well, when you're thin, you don't have a choice. They'd fall off, otherwise. Besides, they fit when they're on."
With a satisfied smirk, she succeeded in buttoning them and scooped her shirt from the floor, yanking it haphazardly over her head, displaying her almost childlike lack of patience. He held out his hands for her to grasp, and pulled her to her feet.
They faced one another, fingers never separating; Sakura's grin faded against his stoic, serious façade.
He squeezed. "Sakura-"
"Don't even think of apologizing, Sasuke."
"You can't protect me from everything," she whispered.
His thumbs unconsciously rubbed her knuckles as he let her words embed themselves wholly in his mind. "Be careful."
"Wouldn't be anything but," she retorted.
"… Stop having an answer for everything," he replied in a frustrated tone, still moving his thumbs across her skin.
"Oh, you like it when I talk," she giggled, leaning forward to press her lips to his cheek.
"Don't-laugh," he said tersely, each word staccato, an effort. "You could damn well die. Or worse."
"Don't even," he warned, pulling her body to his, eyes narrowed.
"I won't die," she stated casually. "We need to head out."
He let her sling both of the bags over her shoulder and tug him along, unbolting the door and opening it-
His arm shot out-
"Sasuke, I know, but I'm not going to mope around and think about it!" she said loudly, voice pitching horribly in distress. "I can't…"
Trailing off, she closed her eyes once more, fighting back the same panicked helplessness and fright, fighting back the tears. She did not open them until she felt his fingers sweep gently across her eyelids, then take her chin and forced her to look at him.
"If you choose to die," he whispered, "You'd better do it damn eloquently."
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he led her away from the door and crushed his lips upon hers, forcefully and without pretense.
Burn, burn.
Pulling away, he lowered his mouth to her ear, breaths heavy and lingering as he said:
"Uchiha die with eloquence."
"I wish I could see you."
"I still know you're there."
"Still, it's difficult."
"Difficult is a matter of opinion, I suppose. I know you are there. I feel you."
"I'm not touching you, I don't think. Wish I could tell."
"We know each other well, Tenten. I can… sense you there."
"… You're cheating! You have Byakuugan."
"I am not."
"Fine, then. What am I doing with my eyebrows?"
"Ah… raising your left one, then your right, then you furrow them as if thinking."
"You are so using-"
"I am not. I know how you are, Tenten."
"… I'm sorry, Neji."
"Quite all right."
"I'm bored."
"As am I."
"I actually was using Byakuugan."
"Ah, it's that one."
"Which one, Sasuke?"
"To the left of the conductor; look a few feet along."
"Quit talkin' s'damn loud!" Ino hissed, noticeably haughty and ruffled. Whether she cared to admit it or not, nervousness was creeping into her normally overconfident, aggressive core. The boy at her side nudged her silver earring with his nose and murmured something in her ear; her face, in response, twisted into an ugly grimace. She silenced, though none too willingly.
The pink-haired girl stuck her tongue out at her best friend childishly, then stuck her thumbs into her belt loops and looked over her shoulder. Watching her teammate's eyes survey the fairly large gathering of passengers, her voice was low as she asked, "The surly-looking one?"
Sasuke stole a covert glance at the man, then nodded in affirmation. Stepping forward without a sound, he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and rested his chin upon the top of her head. Giving an impression, no doubt, that his sultry tenor was whispering sweet nothings into her ear; everything relied on the entire situation holding no suspicion. They were on a vacation and nothing more.
"Look, Hina-chan!" Naruto yelled loudly, pushing his face into a hole of a cardboard cutout with a "body" that resembled that of Jiraiya-sama, his former instructor. "Who knew that the old pervert was famous like this? They know him even way out in the middle of-"
"Naruto," she interrupted, giggling.
"I wonder if they'd make one of these for me?" the Kyuubi vessel asked excitedly, looking down at Jiraiya's "body". "Though when I don't have this much hair."
Overcome by a wracking fit of giggles, the Hyuuga covered her mouth with her hands and hid her face, long midnight locks forming a curtain over her flushed cheeks. Thoroughly embarrassed, she turned away from him with perhaps the intent of hiding from him completely; if so, this notion was derailed as he stepped around the cardboard cutout and tilted his head quirkily, watching her.
Heavy flush deepened to a rich crimson. Peeking from through her fingers at his excited smile which was almost childish and shy in nature whilst his eyes held no shame in giving her his full attention.
"N-Naruto?" The Hyuuga's voice was startled.
"I like your laugh," he muttered quietly. Seeming, at last, to fall victim to naturist self-consciousness he blinked and gazed at a spot on the concrete platform, unable to disguise the wide, boyish grin on his face.
Both of them turned from each other to see Ino snapping her fingers with great impatience, apparently oblivious to the boy behind her, carrying both duffel bags with a disgruntled expression. "We're leaving!"
Gathering at the boarding queue, the six shinobi waited anxiously for their tickets to be taken while Kakashi, donning a round hat pulled surreptitiously over his masked visage, lectured them in a hurried manner.
"Make at least an attempt to blend in. You are all on a vacation, and you two," Sasuke and Sakura glanced at Kakashi to show they were listening, "Need to get into character. This isn't a joke."
Sakura made it a point to appear abashed despite her volatile inner raining obscenities on a cowering jounin, but Sasuke regarded his leader's words with little importance, instead glaring darkly at the same surly man standing a few feet ahead, in the line. Not taking his eyes from the stranger, he unconsciously stepped forward as the people ahead climbed onto the train, keeping Sakura at his elbow. Tightly, and close.
They reached the conductor and embarked the steps in pairs; Shikamaru and Ino, Naruto and Hinata, and Sasuke and Sakura with Kakashi bringing up the rear. Through several compartments they traveled, carefully stepping around passengers and children, luggage and miscellaneous items already strewn about the blood-red, carpeted floors. Progressively, the crowds grew thinner and the people, quieter until they reached one of the last cars of the train.
Unfortunately, the same suspicious man took a generous seat not more than a few rows away from them; Kakashi stole a glance at him, then settled into his window seat with a newspaper, expression thoughtful as Naruto and Hinata occupied the other two. Shikamaru and Ino took the seats in front of them, and Sasuke settled into the opposite window seat from the jounin, still keeping a tight grip on Sakura's forearm as they sat.
"It's already nightfall," the medic commented, leaning forward to gaze out the window at the dark platform, now empty. Only the chandeliers in the compartment provided light, for the inky sky outside was resolutely starless. Sakura continued to stare at the glass, unknowingly lost in a whirl of deep thought and her companion did nothing to occupy himself but observe the seat in front of him.
His hand toyed with the velvet box that he still, for some reason, felt prudent to keep close to him as if it held something that could, perhaps, be used in a moment's notice. Needless to say it was irritating him that the ring was still nestled in its case and for reasons unknown to him, not on her finger. It was what it was for.
Moreover, it was right. It had to happen, and he had no idea what the rational justifications for his thoughts were. No clever segway, no underlying pretext. It was indefinable, rankling, yet he knew it had to be.
Somewhere below an engine stirred and wheels hissed potent steam. The night was young, the young were old. Lights dimmed slightly to grant a solemn atmosphere upon the tired travelers heading home, whether at the beginning of their long excursion or near the end. The young medic laid her head on her companion's chest, jade eyes still watching the swiftly blurring lights out the window as the train picked up speed. Breaths startlingly quiet and mellow and soft; she glanced up at him.
"Do you mind if I had a blanket?"
She felt rather than heard him: "No."
Smiling faintly, she stood quietly and crossed the aisle to ask Hinata for a quilt, keeping her voice low as not to disturb passengers. When Sakura had thanked the girl and turned away, Hinata looked at Sasuke, a strangely knowing but nevertheless kind smile playing on her lips. It reminded him of the medic's calculating and unearthly smirk of intuition, or even worse, it was like Kakashi's.
Sakura bypassed her seat and instead settled herself in Sasuke's lap, tucking the blanket around them both as she laid her head on him again, sighing in content. That same warm sensation enveloped him as her breaths fluttered against his collarbone, and he recognized it as something akin to comfort. Though it was still a brutal sting when she placed her hands against his chest, for as always, she held the warmth that clashed horribly; he was cold. Skin. Personality.
Why did she put up with it?
Because she loves you.
He came to the same answer every time.
What am I to her?
You're everything to her.
Do I love her too?
He did not know.
Round and round in circles he goes.
(His conscious is toiling and ravaged by throes.)
I don't know why I love her.
"Sasuke," she murmured, an angel's whisper vibrating against his chest. Gazing up at him with curious eyes that simultaneously scrutinized him. "What's wrong?"
He did not speak.
She leaned back and stared at him with a familiar expression of worry, fingers curled delicately around the material of his shirt. "Sasuke?"
Cautiously, he placed his fingers over hers and surveyed her with a striking and steady gaze, leaning closer. She was always so warm. And his mouth pressed against her temple so she could feel every word, lingering.
"Do you love me?"
She frowned and muttered, "That's a really stupid question, Sasuke."
"I'm… serious."
"So was I."
Grip tightening, he weaved his fingers through her long locks and dragged her closer, forcing their noses to touch. "Answer me."
"Of course I do," she muttered bitterly, clearly offended as she attempted to pull away from his grasp. "Idiot," she hissed, balling up the quilt and shoving it roughly in his chest. Without making a scene, she rose to her feet.
Dark eyes followed her as she tiptoed down the aisle, courteously maneuvering around luggage and sleeping children; he forced himself to lean back into his seat and catch his breath. His calloused fingers gripped the armrest tightly, forcing it to crack against the anger rising with him. He could feel it leaving. She pulled away all the warmth she gave him and for some reason it could not stand alone. He didn't want it leaving so soon.
He didn't know if he could stand it.
And there it was, just sitting it in his pocket, the only thing he had to give her. Everything, he had to give her. There was no doubt of the enormity the situation held, but the looming death that seemed almost prettily prepared and waiting for them would drive him to chase it.
I won't lose it again.
Because it was not only their mission, it was his last chance.
It was a blur: Throwing the quilt aside and storming through the obstacles that had no label or description, he didn't remember. They weren't important. His footsteps echoed as if he were the only one stalking down the corridor, existent and alive. Turning the knob and hearing it catch, locked. Breaking the cheap lock and opening the door despite feeble protests from others, slamming it shut behind him and turning to face her.
She was startled; he, determined. She half-turned from the sink and blinked as if stepping into a bright light, clearly taken aback by the manner in which Sasuke had forced his way in.
"Is there something wrong?"
No answer. Step forward, step true. Closer.
"Would you answer me, damn it?" She was getting angry, beautiful color rising her ivory cheeks. "You've been acting strange ever since we boarded the train, and it's starting to-"
"Marry me."
Sakura whirled around, hands gripping the counter behind her as she leaned back. Skin stretched over her thin knuckles, white. Her eyes darted frantically around the room waiting for that seemingly inevitable "Just kidding" that never did come.
Mouth opened, closed, opened again with no words emerging.
She locked her eyes on him and challenged him silently, daring him to admit the joke. His proud, towering stance with the signature, aristocratically set jaw and glaring, glittering eyes that were almost coaxing her to get it in his angry, now slightly amused, face.
"Sakura." He spoke her name carefully, every syllable a staccato, rich bite of tenor.
"Marry me."


text:
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With the start of baseball season around the corner, I thought I'd get my Dave Zirin on and talk a little about the politics of sports. I've always thought that labor disputes in professional sports are a great litmus test that can be very revealing about someone's general attitude toward labor and class.
That may sound odd at first, because the disputes between athletes and team owners seem so far removed from the struggles of ordinary workers. Even the lowest-paid Major League Baseball player draws a salary beyond what the vast majority of Americans could ever dream of.
But that's just why it's such a revealing case. Unlike, say, low-wage hotel workers, baseball players can't command sympathy just based on liberal feelings of charity or a generalized sense of rooting for the underdog. To understand what side you're on in sports labor disputes, you need to understand something about class and the power relations between workers and management.
A common reaction among the general public is to see sports labor disputes as pitting players against fans. The fan sees players drawing unimaginably large salaries and struggling for even more, and they interpret this as greed. But of course, siding against the players really just means siding with the owners, an even richer group of people. And holding down players' pay is less likely to reduce ticket prices than it is to increase owner profits--just look at the Florida Marlins, a team whose owners habitually under-spent on players and pocketed Major League Baseball's revenue sharing money until the players' union forced them to start spending more money.
If we're concerned about the extreme wealth of baseball players (and owners), the sensible response is to tax their income at a high rate. Those who oppose the players in their labor struggles with management are really just performing a more grandiose version of the same politics of resentment that causes people to attack union workers who have good jobs and benefits, rather than seeing the struggles of labor as part of a project to improve the situation of all workers rather than dragging everyone down to the same level of misery.
Too often, however, unions feed into this kind of resentment by protecting the privileges of their members at the expense of other workers. And baseball provides a good case study here as well. The Major League Baseball Players Association is a strong union, one which is supported by many players who are otherwise politically conservative. But the strategy of the union has, over the years, actually contributed to the unequal treatment of athletes within professional baseball.
Under the current labor agreement, Major League players must work for the league minimum salary for three years after they reach the majors. For the next three years, their salary is set through arbitration with the team. Only after six years can a player sign with another team as a free agent, which generally results in a big increase in their pay.
The baseball blogger and author Tom Tango had a nice post about this system recently, in which he noted that it greatly enriches one sub-group of players at the expense of others. That sub-group is the established stars who stick around baseball long enough to reach free agency, and the losers are all those who never make it that point and wash out of the league while they are still making the minimum. Since the younger players are making less, the free agents are able to command higher salaries. And since the players who stick in the majors are the only ones who are in the Major League Baseball Players Association, they are able to shift the union's strategy in their favor, and against the interests of all those guys who didn't last for three years.
Of course, that doesn't even address the minor leagues, where many players get paid at a level that would be considered low-wage labor even by non-sports standards. And baseball's minor league system looks great in comparison to sports like Football and Basketball that outsource their minor leagues to college sports, where players are compelled to play for free under the pretext of receiving an education.
For this system to change, the top players who dominate the union would have to think in terms of solidarity rather than narrow self-interest. The fact that they don't, however, doesn't make them all that different from many of the rest of us. When it comes down to players vs. owners, I know which side I'm on. But I also know that winning the class war is about more than signing good contracts and protecting the interests of union members. A myopic strategy that divides union members from non-members will ultimately hurt both.
And of course, in the long run we don't just want to get higher wages from the owners of Capital, we want to replace them altogether. That's why it's previously been argued in this space that professional sports franchises ought to be socialized.


text:
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Genova 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.Michael Winterbottom directs this supernatural drama starring Colin Firth as Joe, an Englishman who moves with his two American-bred daughters to Genova, Italy after his wife is killed in a car crash. There, the three surviving members of the family adjust to their loss and adapt to their new life in very different, and often conflicting, ways. While 16-year-old Kelly (Willa Holland) explores the sexy and dangerous underbelly of this mysterious new world, the younger Mary (Perla Haney-Jardine) starts seeing the ghost of her mother wandering the streets.
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Rehoboth Beach Real Estate
16 Newbold Square
Rare find - 3BR/2BA townhouse in South Rehoboth Beach with views of Silver Lake for $539,900! Stunning white Corian counter tops, new stainless steel appliances, fireplace, comfortable loft and owner's suite with private bath. Located approximately 4 blocks from the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk, shops and restaurants which are easily accessible via the walking 'foot bridge' crossing Silver Lake just North of the property!
Listed by: Patrick Montague - RE/MAX Realty Group
Price: $539,900


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Advanced Materials and Nanotechnology
Vol. 700
Characterization of Advanced Materials
Vol. 699
Advances in Materials Manufacturing Science and Technology XIV
Vols. 697-698
High-Temperature Oxidation and Corrosion 2010
Vol. 696
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Vol. 694
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Vol. 692
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Materials Science Forum
> Aluminium Cast House Technology XII
Aluminium Cast House Technology XII
Volume 693
doi: 10.4028/www.scientific.net/MSF.693
Paper Title
Preface and Committees
Improving Casthouse Throughput Using Discrete-Event Modelling
Authors: Bruce Gunn, Yakov Frayman
Chapter 1: Markets and Cast House Layouts
Abstract:The scheduling of metal to different casters in a casthouse is a complicated problem, attempting to find the balance between pot-line,...
A Historical Perspective on Dross Processing
Authors: Ray D. Peterson
Chapter 2: Controlling Melt Loss
Abstract:As long as aluminum has been manufactured and melted, various by-products with a mixture of aluminum and aluminum oxide have existed. The...
The Approach to Zero Waste from Smelter and Secondary Dross Processing
Authors: David J. Roth
Chapter 2: Controlling Melt Loss
Abstract:Worldwide production of aluminium continues to grow even in the past economic slowdown period, at present the annual production is at...
Preserving Metal Units Utilising the Latest Generation of Aluminium Dross Press
Authors: Alan Peel, James Herbert, Robert Connaughton, Hugh Cotton
Chapter 2: Controlling Melt Loss
Abstract:The handling of dross is an unfortunate but necessary activity in any aluminum cast house. One technology designed to cool dross and maximise...
Crucible Fluxing with Hycast™ RAM- Effect on Metal Quality and Operational Cost
Authors: Terje Haugen, Idar Kjetil Steen, Erling Myrbostad, Arild Håkonsen
Chapter 2: Controlling Melt Loss
Abstract:Hycast TM RAM, hereafter called RAM, is a crucible fluxing technology for removal of alkaline elements (Na, Ca, and Li), as well as carbides,...
SPH Modeling of the Effect of Crucible Tipping Rate on Oxide Formation
Authors: Mahesh Prakash, Paul W. Cleary, John A. Taylor
Chapter 2: Controlling Melt Loss
Abstract:When hot molten aluminium is poured into a furnace from crucibles, oxide is generated due to the interaction of the liquid metal with the...
Oxidation of Rolled and Flash Anodized 3000 Aluminum in Air, Nitrogen, Oxygen, and Carbon Dioxide Atmospheres
Authors: Darcy Stevens, Anne Kvithyld, Thorvald Abel Engh
Chapter 2: Controlling Melt Loss
Abstract:Thermal oxidation of a 3000 Al sheet rolled alloy was carried out in various atmospheres with a thermogravimetric analyzer (TGA). The effect...
A Historical Perspective of Aluminium Casthouse Furnace Developments
Authors: Peter Whiteley
Chapter 3: Furnaces and Refractories
Abstract:This paper provides an historical perspective of aluminium casthouse furnace evolution over the past 30 years or so with a view towards...
Improved Monolithic Materials for Lining Aluminium Holding and Melting Furnaces – Roof, Upper Walls and Flue
Authors: Andy Wynn, John Coppack, Tom Steele, Gary Latter
Chapter 3: Furnaces and Refractories
Abstract:Monolithic refractories are now well established as linings for a range of holding and melting applications for the processing of aluminium....
Showing 1 to 10 of 30 Paper Titles


text:
Craig Morgan Paradise
Paradise is a song by American country singer Craig Morgan from the album Craig Morgan. The single reached the Billboard Top Country Songs chart.
The official music video for Paradise premiered on YouTube at the beginning of August 2000. Watch Craig Morgan perform the song.
Paradise Lyrics
The lyrics to Paradise were written by Craig Morgan and Harley Allen.Top Country Songs


text:
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Hey guys,
I will be teaching a texturing course very soon at the school of visual arts in New york city and I'm trying to reach out to the community if anyone has a model that I can use for this course. I will be covering workflow/ colorspace/ techniques and go into Mari. If anyone can help out that be great. Doesn't have to be UV'ed, topologized be great to make UV'ing better and organic or mechanical is fine. Please submit a screenshot.


text:
National Conference of the African National Congress
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The National Congress of the African National Congress is a party congress that is held every five years. It is the organization that elects new, or re-elects incumbent members to the National Executive Committee, the highest decision-making body within the party.
Prior to the banning of the ANC by the South African government in 1960, the National Congresses were held annually. Following the banning, the ANC held a number of National Consultative Conferences abroad. When the ANC was unbanned, it held its first national conference in 32 years in Durban (1991); from 1991 to 1997, the conferences were held every three years. At the 1997 conference in Mafikeng, future conferences would be held every five years.
List of venues[edit]
- 38th conference (1949), held in Bloemfontein
- 42nd conference (1953), held in Queenstown, Eastern Cape
- 45th conference (1957), held in Orlando
- 1st consultative conference (1969), held in Morogo, Tanzania
- 2nd consultative conference (1985), held in Kabwe, Zambia
- 3rd consultative conference (1990), held in Johannesburg
- 49th conference (1994), held in Bloemfontein.
- 50th conference (1997), held in Mafikeng.
- 51st conference (2002), held in Stellenbosch.
- 52nd conference (2007), held in Polokwane.
- 53rd conference (2012), held in Bloemfontein.


text: Take a walk with me down memory lane: DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN ...? All the girls had ugly gym uniforms? It took five minutes for the TV warm up? Nearly everyone's Mom was at home when the kids got home from school? Nobody owned a purebred dog? When a quarter was a decent allowance? Your Mom wore nylons that came in two pieces? All your male teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done every day and wore high heels? You got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped, without asking, all for free, every time? And you didn't pay for air? And, you got trading stamps to boot? Laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box? It was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents? When a 57 Chevy was everyone's dream car.. .to cruise, peel out, lay rubber or watch submarine races, and people went steady? No one ever asked where the car keys were because they were always in the car, in the ignition, and the doors were never locked? Stuff from the store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had yet tried to poison a perfect stranger? And with all our progress, don't you just wish, just once, you could slip back in time and savor the slower pace, and share it with the children of today? When being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited the student at home? Basically we were in fear for our lives, but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat! But we survived because their love was greater than the threat. Remember when the books you read were the GOOD STORIES Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, _Laurel and Hardy, Howdy Doody and the Peanut Gallery, the Lone Ranger, The Shadow Knows, Nellie Bell, Roy and Dale, Trigger and Buttermilk. As well as summers filled with bike rides, baseball games, Hula Hoops, bowling and visits to the pool,and eating Kool-Aid powder with sugar. Didn't that feel good, just to go back and say, "Yeah, I remember that"? I am sharing this with you today because it ended with a double dog dare to pass it on. To remember what a double dog dare is, read on. And remember that the perfect age is somewhere between old enough to know better and too young to care. How many of these do you remember? Candy cigarettes Wax Coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water inside Soda pop machines that dispensed glass bottles Coffee shops with tableside jukeboxes Blackjack, Clove and Teaberry chewing gum Home milk delivery in glass bottles with cardboard stoppers Telephone numbers with a word prefix...(Raymond 4-601). Party lines_ Peashooters Howdy Doody 45 RPM records Hi-Fi' s Roller-skate keys Cork pop guns Drive ins Washtub wringers The Fuller Brush Man Reel-To-Reel tape recorders Tinkertoys Erector Sets The Fort Apache Play Set Lincoln Logs GI Joe's 15 cent McDonald hamburgers 5 cent packs of baseball cards - with that awful pink slab of bubble gum Penny candy and you got a bag full for a dime 35 cent a gallon gasoline Jiffy Pop popcorn that got huge when cooked over the stove Do you remember a time when... Decisions were made by going "eeny- meeny-miney-moe"? Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, "Do Over!"? Race issue meant arguing about who ran the fastest?_ Catching the fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening? It wasn't odd to have two or three "Best Friends"? The worst thing you could catch from the opposite *** was "cooties"? Having a weapon in school meant being caught with a slingshot? A foot of snow was a dream come true? Saturday morning cartoons weren't 30-minute commercials for action figures? "Oly-oly-oxen-free" made perfect sense? Spinning around, getting dizzy, and falling down was cause for giggles? The worst embarrassment was being picked last for a team? War was a card game? Baseball cards in the spokes transformed any bike into a motorcycle? Taking drugs meant orange-flavored chewable aspirin? Water balloons were the ultimate weapon? If you can remember most or all of these, then you have lived!!!!!!! So take time to reflect and remember , Just how good life was then and for a moment, You will have a good feeling come over you. ***Now wasnt that nice?***


text:
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text:
The International Cycling Union (UCI) has disbanded its own independent commission set up to investigate any alleged involvement the UCI may have had in the Lance Armstrong doping scandal. Instead it promised to establish the "truth and reconciliation process" which many critics had pushed for.
The commission was set up to look into the allegations made against cycling's world governing body by the United States Anti-Doping Agency's (Usada) investigation into Armstrong, which shone a light on a decade of drug use in the sport.
However, both the World Anti-Doping Agency (Wada) and Usada said they would take no part in the commission and that, according to the UCI, would have led to any report being dismissed as "not being complete or credible".
The UCI president, Pat McQuaid (above), said: "We have listened carefully to the views of Wada, Usada and cycling stakeholders and have decided that a truth and reconciliation process is the best way to examine the culture of doping in cycling in the past and to clear the air so that cycling can move forward."
McQuaid continued: "Given this development, the UCI management committee today decided that the federation could no longer fund a procedure whose outcome is likely to be rejected by such an important stakeholder. We have therefore decided to disband the independent commission with immediate effect."
The Wada president, John Fahey, expressed his concern with the commission earlier this month, and claimed it would not be allowed "to conduct a proper and independent investigation".
The truth and reconciliation process will launch later this year with a final report to be published in full.
- More about:
- Cycling
- Mark Cavendish
- Performance-Enhancing Drugs


text:
kcymarie had een nieuw logo ontwerp nodig en lanceerde daarom een wedstrijd op 99designs.
Een winnaar werd gekozen uit91 ontwerpen ingezonden door20 freelance designers.
Use the name... I could see the name scrolling around with 2 hands in gratitude or with Pilates "Toys" https://clients.mindbodyonline.com/home.asp. I use rings, fitness balls, etc... Zen jade or olive greens, browns,teal blues, gold... and I'm open to your designs.
The only thing I really dislike is plain Arial/Tahome fonts.
Will need business cards - future need for printed Brochures, email newsletter templates, etc.
(looking for ideas... ?)
Desired Color Scheme:
prefer Earthy, Gold, Jades, Olives, Teals - but open to others
Desired Style:
Elegant, Classy, smart.
Accepted File Formats:
Standard Web Formats (.jpg, .gif or .png) - web and print friendly
Zenfully Yours trains people in their homes in Pilates, while also offering guided meditation and assisted stretching.
Not sure of a tagline but would love some ideas. (something about making your Zen my business, unleashing your inner ?. i don't know...).
I'm lost with my own business as what to do... In the future, will need biz cards, brochures, newsletter template, website adjustment to http://www.zenfullyyours.com (one page)...


text:
Katrina "Sidewinder" Mojave
I couldn't stop watching that video, over and over....and over. Each time I'd bite my knuckles till I drew blood, it wasn't how he should have found his end. Hell he'd always been there for me from the very beginning when I joined my air wing. The only reason he wasn't the squadron leader was because he always got into a beef or something that would halt his up coming promotion. He always said that he liked flying on someones wing, he liked having people depend upon him. Why'd he have to talk to me through that stupid camera....leave me those haunting thoughts.
All I could think that was Young and I were the last people on his mind. That we were his only bit of hope as his head left his shoulders and rolled across that dirt and blood covered floor. His husk slumping over as I hit the pause button then rewound it all the way to the beginning.
"Mojave...I'm sorry. I know you've got to be worried sick about me...like you always are. Don't worry, after this...you'll at least know what happened to me." He gave a weak smile as he continued. "And Young, you sorry bastard. I'm just sad that we can't toss back some more shots, getting your ass wasted." He laughed softly. "Listen man, I know some how some way you'll hear this. Hug Mojave when you see her, do it for me and for her. She's always fancied you....And don't you ever...EVER stop fighting against these sons a' bitches-"
I pressed the pause button and sat frozen, tears pouring off my face and a thousand cries getting stuck halfway out of my throat. Fingers trembling, I touched his digitalized face that was immortalized for me to stare at. The pain and utter loss of hope in his eyes knowing that he wasn't getting out of that room alive. "Why..." I choked, slamming my bloody fist into the wall. "You stupid bastard! Why did you have to die?!" I trembled as my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor.
"Yeah Andrew," I finally mumbled bitterly. "Use your last words to tell me not to worry and tell Young that I fancy him! That's you, Andrew....always you...." I trailed off, earlier all day I had kept an eye on Young, he seemed to be falling apart just as I was. When he retreated into the shower, I laid out fresh BDU's for him. Finally I moved from the computer...Young hadn't seen it. Slowly I whipped my eyes of tears and walked to wait outside the bathroom. Crossing my arms I waited, calming my breath until he stumbled out and stared at me angrily.
"IF YOU HADN'T CRASHED, DUKE WOULD BE HERE RIGHT NOW!" A ice cold bolt shot through my heart and filled my body with concrete. How could he accuse me of such a thing....after I had just watched my close friend die about a hundred times over. As I stared into those living eyes and knew that his body was probably hacked up and scattered about the forest for animals to feed upon or explosions to devour.
I wanted to shout back to scream at him, punch him in the face and tell him what an asshole he was for putting such a heavy burden on me. Instead I just held back the rivers of tears and shot back my cold reply to the heartless pilot...I though he was my friend.
"Andrew is dead... I didn't want this to happen. He was a damn good pilot and he didn't deserve the death that he got! Fuck, they won't even let us take off to get back at those damn chinks! They put his video on the internet, along with their progress! Hell, half the pilots here are too depressed or scared to do anything about it!" I swallowed more words, screams and all the flickering feeling rising within me.
"Wait, wait, what video?!" He looked at me like a stupid, innocent child. How the hell didn't he know?! Hadn't he heard me screaming, shouting, crying out my guts in front of that damned computer monitor?! I shook my head and let out an exasperated shout. Throwing up my hands, I stalked away to the room that held evidence of my total breakdown. Blood stains on the walls matching the dried blood and cuts on my hands and knuckles, dents in the wall and bent parts of the chairs that I had chucked around the room. Young followed still unaware to the horrors that rested on the computer screen.
As I played the video for the thousandth time I hung around at the back of the room, sobbing and breaking down completely. This time I could careless if Young saw me, I wasn't good with these kind of things and bottling up my emotions wasn't helping me one bit. I was on my knees, Fingers tightly gripping my skull as I cried and cried, just trying to get it all out at once.
"Still...th..think that if...I...I hadn't crashed...Andrew would..be...here!" I said in between sobs and sniffles. I just wanted out of the room and away from Young, it may have been immature and very child-ish but I didn't care. Hugging myself, I stood weakly and walked out of the room. Moving down the hall I leaned on the wall and and bowed my head...I was broken and no matter how much I wanted to fight back and avenge Duke's death. I couldn't pull myself together, I was as spooked as the other pilots. Imagine that, Sidewinder Mojave spooked.How Pathetic....


text: SummaryThe use of historic cost accounting and fairvalue accounting have been one of the most debatable topics in recent years. Inorder to differentiate between them it is necessary to understand what are they. Historic cost accounting is an approach to accounting using asset values based on the actual amount of money paid for the asset with no inflation adjustment while fairvalue accounting refers to the value of an asset or liability using an arms length transaction between unrelated, willing and knowledgeable parties.


text:
19 West Mystic Avenue
A location in Mystic
Commute to Downtown New London
19 min 60+ min 60+ min View Routes
Most errands require a car.
About your score
Something missing? Add a place
19 West Mystic Avenue has a Walk Score of 31 out of 100. This location is a Car-Dependent neighborhood so most errands require a car.
Nearby parks include Mystic Bridge Historic District, Ramblewood Park and Mason Monument.
Explore how far you can travel by car, bus, bike and foot from 19 West Mystic Avenue.


text:
Crazy Taxi: Catch a Ride
Title Data
- Genre:
- Racing > Arcade > Automobile
- Developer:
- Graphic State
- ESRB Descriptor(s):
- Comic Mischief, Mild Language
- Number of Players:
- 1 Player
Release Data
Data and credits for this game contributed by DarkLink89, a0me, Betelgeuse, Cosmic!, LordAndrew, odino, Guard Master, and oliist.
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Lockheed Model 18 Lodestar
Photo Code:
WKP-Lockheed Model 18 Lodestar
Lockheed Lodestar at the National Museum of the United States Air Force. (21 November 2007)
Greg Hume (Own Work)
Original size:
2,862 x 1,795 pixels
29 June 2013 @ 01:22 UTC
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Lockheed Model 18 Lodestar
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