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Weeding out the grass roots
July 20, 2016 § 21 Comments
There is a new poison in the herbicide arsenal, stronger than Roundup, Banish, Barren, and TK-10 all lumped together, one so nasty and lethal that where it is poured nothing will thrive, nothing will grow, nothing will live.
We started Telo last night with our eyes glued to the fancy winner's jersey plastered on the back of Smasher, knowing that whatever else happened, it was going to hurt us more than it hurt him, and it would be unendurable. Smasher's race plan was simple: Smash.
His ultimate goal? Get the winner's jersey for his teammate Derek the Destroyer, who a couple of weeks ago had officially retired as a profamateur, gained ten pounds, quit training, and places top-five now in every race he enters.
My plan was simple. Follow Smasher's wheel, also known as Belling the Cat. Destroyer opened Lap 3 with a fierce attack, which I easily followed. All I had to do was go harder than I've ever gone in my life, then add ten percent. We were quickly reabsorbed. After following Destroyer around for another lap or so it seemed wise to slip farther back.
We had a large field of broken and hopeless wankers, none of whom had the slightest chance of surviving the carnage that was about to be unleashed. In a flash, just as I had settled back to check my phone and see how much money I'd lost for the day on Chinese real estate stocks, Destroyer went again and took six riders with him.
Being at the back when the winning break rolls is the stupidest feeling in the world. You watch it happen from afar, slack-jawed at your bad judgment, while all of the idiots around you either don't know what's happening, don't care what's happening, or, like me, pray to dog that someone will take the bit between his teeth and do all of the nasty work dragging you up to the split.
Then I spied Smasher, who was cheerily pedaling along, not the least concerned. "That wanker," I said to myself. "He totally missed the split." So I got on his wheel while a few panicked riders took turns trying to organize a chase.
[*Note to non-racers: "Organize a chase" is a fantasy concept that exists in the minds of people who think that a group of people who hate each other will work together for a common cause, cf. Republican National Convention in Cleveland.]
As we rounded Turn 4, I saw Smasher, who is British, arch his lower back slightly, tighten his grip on the drops, and push down harder on the pedals. "This is it, here comes Brexit!" I laughed to myself, jumping hard on the pedals so that I'd already have a head of steam when Smasher launched his bridge.
When Brexit came I was already accelerating, already committed, already fully prepared to follow Nigel Farrage in his destruction of the common European weal–except that I wasn't. Smasher opened up a bike length, then two, then five, then ten, and then he was a tiny speck far, far ahead as I sagged in no-person's-land. I don't know how many watts he expended, but Strava says I was at my max of 253 watts, so he was putting out at least 14,000 or so.
There is a moment in every race that is decisive, which is another way of saying there is a moment in every race when everyone gives up hope, digs into their suitcase of excuses, tries several on until finding one that fits, and then takes comfort in finishing with the other losers in the fourth chase group. I slunk to the back and congratulated myself on having had the wisdom to miss the split and to choose the Wheel That Shall Not Be Followed.
However, the Brexit plot thickened. The other losers back in the EU chase group were unwilling to be losers just yet, and the breakaway lost steam as Scotland insisted it would Screxit from the UK and Scrontinue with the EU. After an eternity of riding at ridiculous speeds through cracks in turns, lapping gassed riders who would jump in, gap me out, then re-explode, after battering into the headwind where each pedal stroke felt like algebra, the incredible happened: Smasher and Boozy P. came back. Brexit was going to be put to a re-vote.
The losers took heart; the remnants of Destroyer's break were a mere 200 yards away! They had been caught!
Except, since they were still 200 hundred yards away, they hadn't been.
They dangled.
They teased.
They shed a couple more riders.
They were just within reach, kind of like good interest rates in someone else's mythical portfolio.
Then, at the key moment in the race, I did what I'm known far and wide for: I cowered and hoped someone else would do for me what I was too lazy to do for myself.
No one did, and the 200 turned to 300. Fortunately, Smasher was still with us, until, of course, he wasn't. He leaped across the windy gap in Brexit II, caught Destroyer and Steinhafel, and the three of them immediately put an entire half-lap on the twenty remaining losers, all of whom lost.
There was some sprunting for scraps, but I couldn't be bothered to watch Destroyer pull on his first ever victory tunic, which of course he'd won in retirement. With the Union shattered and the cycling grass roots poisoned with buckets of all-kill herbicide, it was a great way to end the day. The only thing that would have made it better would have been having my new Leather Volt break down, which happily it did.
At least I'm not bitter.
Photos courtesy of Joe Yule!
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Strangling the Internet softly
March 30, 2016 § 27 Comments
I was riding along, minding my own business, trying to look like a very excellent profamateur. The four riders in front of me were all very excellent profamateurs and one of them was actually a professional.
I was feeling highly excellent, as this was my second Donut Ride back after my terrible bicycle-falling-off-incident in which I tumbled off the bicycle and broke my left nutsack. We were on PV Drive North and, as I believe I have already mentioned, I was doing very excellently.
Suddenly my profamateur suplesse was shattered by a horrible grinding and clunking and thunking and greenking and scranking noise that leapt up from the throat of my rear wheel like a terrible, garlic-and-onion-and-pizza-infused beer belch that will not be denied. "Here I go again," I panickedly thought as I stopped pedaling with excellence and my face froze in a rictus of terror as I contemplated falling off my bicycle again and re-cracking my barely healed nutsack.
The others looked back to see why I had suddenly decided to set off a string of firecrackers and I coasted to a halt. I gingerly put my foot down and saw my chain hanging limply, with pieces of my SRAM Red derailleur cage attached. I was shaking, so certain had I been that a falling-off-incident was imminent.
Destroyer began examining the expired derailleur as Holloway went back to collect the shards of derailleur. Charon somehow had an extra plastic baggie and put the pieces inside. Destroyer called Uber and in a few minutes I was on my way home.
That afternoon I got a call from French Toast Ride Director Sportif Dave Jaeger. "Dude," he said. "I heard you broke a derailleur."
"Word travels fast."
"I got a brand new SRAM Red 10-speed still in the box. It's yours. Come and get it."
"Really? How much? I'll need to check behind the couch cushions."
"It's yours. I upgraded to 11-speed and don't want or need it. If you can warranty the broken one, I'll take it, but if you can't, no worries."
I got the new derailleur and went over to Boozy P.'s. "Dude," he said. "What happened?"
"Obviously, the SRAM Red 10-speed is highly defective."
"It is?"
"Yeah. I've only had it for about five years and it's only got about 65,000 miles on it. It's practically new."
"Of course it is," Boozy P. said, putting down his morning beer. "But isn't that the same derailleur you crashed on in November and ground half of the derailleur body off when you slid across the road?" He had emptied the plastic baggie and was looking at the mangled parts.
"Yes, but it's still clearly defective. Plus, all the stuff that got ground off was non-essential vitamins and minerals."
"All vitamins are essential, Wanky."
Boozy P. slurped down a few more essential vitamins, then slapped on the new derailleur and handed me back the baggie. He paused for a second. "Wasn't this also the same derailleur that King Harold had to disassemble for you on the Donut a few months ago because you'd been trying to adjust it with Old. No. 72?"
"Coincidence," I snapped.
"Be careful out there."
I got home and took out a padded envelope, addressed it to RIDE Cyclery in Encinitas, and penned this short letter.
"Hi, Brent. I bought this new in 2012 and it appears to either be defective or I crashed the shit out of it and destroyed it. Most likely the latter. I know it's a long shot, but could you send it back to SRAM and see if they will warranty it for its defective failure not to withstand sliding 100-yards across the pavement at 30 mph?"
A couple of days later Brent sent me a terse text message. "Lovely package received. On it."
A couple of weeks later a nice brown unmarked box not filled with a bag of dicks arrived at my office. Brand new derailleur.
So when people tell me that the Internet is killing their bike shop, I think about Brent and his shop that is doing so well in Encinitas that he opened another one in Carlsbad. Off the hook service is his standard, and standing behind what he sells is a principle, not a slogan. And when I think about standing behind their product and giving the customer the benefit of the doubt I think of SRAM.
Maybe Internet bike shops aren't so invincible after all.
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Chastened and sad face with Hungarian sausage
February 14, 2016 § 16 Comments
Team Lizard Collectors rolled up to the start of the UCLA Road Race in our pimping Bonk Breaker Mercedes-Benz Sprinter Van and Hotel and Restaurant. G3 and I had argued the entire 1.5 hour drive to the McDonald's toilet about race strategy.
"The Cat 3 race is harder than the Leaky Prostate 45-plus Profamateur race," he said.
"You are insane," I diplomatically replied. "Our field is stacked with THOG, the desert rat brothers, Roadchamp, Capture the Flagg, Strava Jr., and a host of other mutants. They will kill it from the gun and we'll all be dropped. We'll never make it over the first climb."
"Yes, we will," said G3. "We'll do them just like in the Cat 3's."
"Oh, brother," I said. "How is that?"
"We'll roll up to the front and ride tempo."
"Great. Until the desert rats and Roadchamp and Strava Jr. hit the gas and drop you like Chinese egg soup."
"Nope. I'll chat them up and make small talk, ask about the kids and stuff. By the time they get through telling me about their new chain lube and Strava Jr.'s 1-oz. derailleur we'll be through most of the climb and you won't get shelled."
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"Works every time in the Cat 3's."
"This ain't the Cat 3's."
The race started, G3 rolled to the front, and holding a steady tempo began chatting with the rat brothers about the carpet cleaning business, the pool cleaning business, and whether they thought it would rain in the desert anytime soon.
Even at tempo half the field was shelled, and when we made the first turn by the blowing trash and the flimsy gates that only barely restrained a rabid Rottweiler and a foaming pit bull who thought we had come to raid the meth lab, the hitters realized they'd been tricked and three of them scampered away.
"You did it!" I exulted to G3. Making it over the first climb was the hardest part of the race; even though we had four laps the remaining times around would be easy in comparison.
Since we were there to sacrifice all for our team leader G$ (easily confused with G3, at least on paper), and since we still had seven riders in the lead group, we all slunk to the back to let G$ do the hard work of reeling in the break, which he did. Once he made the catch, G3 yelled, "Come on guys, let's get to the front and bring back the break!"
"They're already back," we said from the back.
"Good job!"
Now that the hard part was over, all we had to do was continue lurking and shirking while the peloton dragged us to the finish, where we would gloriously win the first seven places, and maybe G$ would get eighth.
However, as we started the climb for the second time, the group seemed to shrink and Team Lizard Collectors suffered a major reduction of its core members, including Dr. Whaaat?, who was experimenting on a hot and hilly road race with a new homemade energy drink made of pickle juice and salt. Just as we approached the rabid dog gate, one of the pre-race favorites, Strava Jr., rode straight into the back of G$'s rear wheel and fell off his bicycle.
The leaders, realizing that one of their chief competitors was down, stomped on the pedals, shredding the group. Strava Jr. lay writhing in not really pain, and after determining that his handlebars were twisted 5-degrees he declared his day over and went home to collect some more KOM's. In the meantime, our valiant team leader G$ had pulled over to check the wheel that Strava Jr. had smashed into. As the sole remaining member of Team Lizard Collectors near the leaders, I considered my options:
- Stop and help my team leader with his repair, give him a wheel if necessary, help him remount, get him speedily on his way, and tow my heart out so he could rejoin the leaders and win the race.
- Pretend I didn't see him, pedal blindly by, and try to catch back onto the group I had no hope of staying with so I could possibly get 14th.
It's not often that life presents such easy choices, so I left him at the side of the road and tried to rejoin the leaders.
This failed.
However, G$ fixed his bike, remounted, and with no assistance powered across a hilly windswept stairstep to close a 30-second gap and rejoin the front group. I was soon caught by a rather hopeless and dispirited group of people who once resembled cyclists but now looked a lot like homeless desert people on bikes. They dropped me after a few miles.
One by one, everyone remaining in the race passed me except for one fellow who was afterwards declared retroactively dead. I sensed that he was a real threat to the leaders and even though we were 40 minutes back I knew it would take a lot of skill to keep him from going across to G$, who eventually attacked the lead group and won the race.
Fortunately, Mr. Corpse was unable to execute his plan and I kept him blocked safely in 39th place, just out of reach of G$, who was mostly in another county. It was a super valiant team effort and I was humbly honored to play such an important role in G$'s win.
Thanks to my hard work, I demanded that G$ buy the whole team lunch with his $80 in winnings. He agreed and we went to the Hungarian Sausage and Meat Company, located back in Pearblossom between the bail bondsman, the liquor shop, and the Baptist church. Since we had Attila the Hungarian with us, we figured he would appreciate some of his native food.
Inside the shop, he went to the counter. "Anyone here speak Hungarian?" he asked.
The young lady shook her head. "No. What makes you think they would?"
"Well," said Attila, "the sign says Hungarian Sausage, so I thought maybe someone here was Hungarian."
The woman made a complicated look with her face, straining muscles that seemed attached to her brain, but that hadn't been exercised much in the last few years. "No," she said. "We only speak American here."
Attila looked at the menu. "I'll have the Hungarian sausage sandwich," he said.
The woman scowled. "That takes twenty-five minutes. You'll have to wait twenty-five minutes. It's a twenty-five minute wait."
"Then I'll have something quicker. What do you recommend?"
"The summer smoked Polish blood sausage with spicy entrails."
"I'll have that, then," said Attila. We all ordered the same thing.
Twenty-five minutes later our food came. I don't know if it was good or we were ravenous, but it was gone in seconds. At lunch we were joined by Derek the Destroyer, who had gotten second place in the much easier 35+ race against a very weak field.
"Second is okay," I said. "But 38th in the 45+ race was a lot harder."
"Really?" he said. "Because we had Tony Manzella, Kirk Bausch, Gary Douville, and a few other guys who go pretty good."
"Pffft," I said. "They would have gotten 39-41 in our race."
"But I think we almost lapped you," he said.
"That's because I was blocking. We had a dead guy who was trying to bridge and if he'd gotten across G$ wouldn't have won."
Derek munched on his sandwich thoughtfully. "I see," he said.
On the way back we dissected the race. "Good job, G$," I said. "I think I could have won but I had the wrong gearing."
"I could have won, too," said Attila, "if the race had stopped after the first lap."
"I could definitely have won," said G3, "if I hadn't ridden tempo for Wanky in the beginning. And Dr. Whaaat? was on the podium for sure if it hadn't been for the pickle juice and salt."
"I was really surprised that I won," said G$, who has only won the race five times previously. "I guess I just got lucky."
No one said anything.
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How to beat the best
February 5, 2016 § 22 Comments
You've done your intervals and you've dieted and you've tacked on another $5k in aero stuff to the Visa card and you've gotten a good night's sleep and you've consulted with your coach on strategy and you've reviewed the course and paid particular attention to the wind and you're going pretty darn good, until the next morning, which is race day.
Yep, you're going super extra champion good until you get to the parking lot, whip in, and see defeat painted on the sign of another team's van–maybe it says "Surf City Cyclery" (you're not beating Charon in a crit today, sorry) or maybe it says "Monster Media" (you're not beating Phil Tinstman in a road race today, sorry) but whatever it says, it's the end of your race before it even begins.
Because bike racing is like WWII air-to-air combat. There are aces and turkeys, only, and the turkeys outnumber the aces by a hundred to one. And you're a turkey.
In other words, my coach always tells me that if I really want to win, I need to make sure that no one who can beat me shows up. "How the hell am I supposed to arrange that?"
"You can't."
The absence of competition is the surest avenue to victory, and the presence of competition is the surest guarantee of defeat, and if you doubt me I point only to Brad House, who has more California state road titles than anyone in history.
If you've seen Brad get dropped on the climbs, dropped on the flats, outsprunted by dead people, run over by trucks in Portuguese Bend, and generally give up when the going is still hundreds of miles from "tough," you may wonder how he got all those titles. Answer: He raced in events that were so sparsely attended that he could beat everyone, even when everyone was only one other person, or none at all.
When I first started following advice from strangers on the Internet, my mentor was Coach Cap Taintbag. Coach Cap Taintbag gave me a winning strategy, which I refused to follow. "Go to a race where you're guaranteed victory. Somewhere far, inconvenient, in a district with hardly any racers. Go there. Sign up. Beat the other guy. Win."
"That's fucked up," I said. "Why would I want to beat one other person? That's not racing."
"Of course it is," said Taintbag. "And it's winning. The only way to learn to win is to be number one. Until you've won you'll never learn how to win."
"That seems like a Catch-22," I said.
"No, because there are races out there you can win. The mixed-man-woman-tandem-6km-TT-combined-age-150-and-over. On the track."
I never took his advice and of course never won a race. But I started looking around and noticed that he was right. You can't beat the aces if you're a turkey. When you hit the parking lot, most of the time your race is done. Even Derek the Destroyer only got his amazing victory at Boulevard last year because Tinstman was sick and decided not to ride.
But I have too much pride for seeking out cupcake events, or I used to until last year when I got second place at the Tuttle Creek Road Race in the eastern Sierras. It is far away and the weather is horrible and it is hilly and brutal and lonely and filled with pain.
I got second because there were only two of us in the masters race. It's not often you get a podium spot and a DFL in the same race.
And it gave me hope. Hope that at Tuttle Creek in 2016, where morning temps are in the 20's and freezing rain is likely, I could do a tiny little bit better, even if it's just one small placing up.
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Inbound to the Sun
February 2, 2015 § 19 Comments
I'm an idiot. I know this because I subscribe to Science, a magazine that makes me feel silly, innumerate, and illiterate every time it arrives in the mailbox. Since I can't understand anything in it, when I read an article I play a game called "Name that acronym." Here's how it works:
Each Science article is chock-full of acronyms, for example TCRs, MHC, CEBAF, and "the EMC effect." Since I'll never understand any of it no matter how much time I spend on Wikipedia, I content myself with memorizing what the acronym stands for. So, each time I see the acronym in the article, I repeat to myself the fully spelled-out word. T-Cell Receptor. Major Histocompatibility Complex. Continuous Electron Beam Accelerator Facility. The European Muon Collaboration Effect.
What the fugg does any of it mean? No idea. But at the end of each article instead of feeling like a complete moron, I just feel like an idiot.
At our SPY-Giant-RIDE p/b GQ-6 profamateur Team Camp and Poser Assembly the day before the Boulevard Road Race I was listening to one of the presentations about energy drinks when I happened to notice that in one of the slides, in super tiny print, someone had written a paragraph that mentioned "mTOR."
I jumped out of my chair. "Mechanistic target of rapamycin!" I yelled. Everyone stared.
"Excuse me?" said the presenter.
"Mechanistic target of rapamycin! It says it right there!"
"What are you talking about, dude? And could you please quit shouting? And sit down?"
I did as he said and he continued with the slide. King Harold tapped me on the shoulder. "What the fugg did you just say?"
"Mechanistic target of rapamycin," I whispered breathlessly, pointing at the slide. "Right there! mTOR is the abbreviation for mechanistic target of rapamycin."
"Okay, okay," he said, patting me. "Just calm down and tell me what the hell it means. Can you use it in a sentence?"
"No," I said. "I only memorized it from the acronym."
"You're a complete idiot," he said.
Derek is not an idiot
This year I had decided to race the 40+ masters category at Boulevard because it was 22 miles longer than the 44-mile race for the 50+ leaky prostate category. My reasoning was simple: Since I had no chance of doing well in the 2-lap race with people my own age, perhaps I could do better in a 3-lap race with people who were much younger and faster and better than all of the people in the 50+ race put together.
In other words, it was an idiotic plan.
My friend Derek, however, who is ten years younger and who is easily one of the best road racers in his age class, had a very good plan. In order to win the season opening, most prestigious race of the year he would have his whole team line up to support him (except for Prez, who would spend the day drinking coffee with his feet up on the table). Even the sprinter dudes who could generally be expected to explode into tiny flecks of muscle and mush after the first climb were there to help.
With his full team at the race (except for Prez, who would spend the day drinking coffee with his feet up on the table), Derek's team would send off bulletproof sprinter "Red Bull" Wike to cover any early moves. Team Captain Charon Smith would then ride the front to keep the field in check by threatening to knock down anyone who tried to pass by flexing his massive calves, which are wider than most mobile homes.
Rob the Blob would follow potential threats and neutralize them with stories of the hundreds of races he has won since 1996, one or two of which might actually have happened. Finally, team assassin Shawn van Gassen would mark potential attacks to make sure that SCC would have a man in any bridge move.
Next, Derek the Destroyer would either wait for or initiate a move on the third lap, crack the field with his wicked acceleration, and either time trial to victory or outsprunt his breakaway companions at the line.
In order to properly set the chessboard for this Sicilian Dragon opening, only one key move was left: Prevent "Full Gas" Phil Tinstman from pinning on a number, since he was the previous winner of the race in 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, and 2014, as well as the holder of a string of victories from 1897-1956. Phil's exclusion was achieved thanks to a terrible case of intestinal rumblings that left him standing on the sidelines, never more than two quick steps from the port-o-potties and two fistfuls of toilet paper.
As the race began I knew that I was a guppy in a shark tank. We shot through the first long downhill section, and as the speeds hit 55 mph on the turns, a massive cloudburst unleashed. Several riders skidded off the road, tattooing the asphalt with sheets of skin and copious quantities of bright red ink. We were very worried about them, but not really.
As the race unfolded, Derek's team hewed to the plan. Red Bull Wike went with Crafty Coxworth in the early move and then detonated, sending Lycra and carbon shrapnel for miles into the air. Charon clogged the lane and prevented attacks by periodic calf flexes. Assassin van Gassen cut the heads off of would-be pursuers. The torrid pace continued as we hit the first long climb on the Green Road, with tattered and broken posers coming off the back in droves.
My personal race summary is as follows:
Lap 1: I felt like Eddy.
Lap 2: I was dropped, unlike Eddy.
Lap 3: I chased back on and was then throttled at the railroad tracks, struggling in alone for a pathetic 34th place.
Race day is payday, baby
For Derek the Destroyer, however, it was a tour de force. At the top of the brutal climb on Lap 2, Easter Egg ripped away from the tattered peloton like a giant piece of Velcro. Derek, Ollie, and Some English Dude on Vacation in California Who Showed Up out of the Blue followed the ripping attack of Easter Egg.
Now I don't know about you, but when a 6′ 4″ dude who always carries a gun because he's in the FBI and whose primary assignment is the liquidation of high value targets decides to ride away from you, I think that generally you should let him go.
But they didn't. After a pulverizing four-man TT to establish the break the leaders eventually fell victim to Spontaneous Breakaway Degeneration Disease, an illness that strikes riders who aren't close enough to the line to go it alone but who don't want to work any more in order to be fresh for the sprunt.
As they turned onto the final 4-mile climb, the Destroyer turned to Easter Egg. "You gonna pull?"
"I didn't race at all last year. I'm not going so well."
"Is it your kid's birthday?"
"Are you gonna sprint at the end?"
"It's a bike race."
"Thanks," said the Destroyer. "That's all I need to know."
And then as they started up the climb, the Destroyer asked himself "WWFGD?"
What would Full Gas do?
Full Gas Phil would, of course, attack, and he would attack so hard that if you were still hanging around you would decide that second place was infinitely preferable to the stroke you would suffer if you tried to chase.
And so the Destroyer attacked. The other breakaway riders crumpled like tin cans beneath the wheel of a fully loaded, onrushing 18-wheeler. The Destroyer twisted the dial up to 300 watts and held it all the way to the line–a team win if there ever was one.
I dragged myself across the line a very, very, very, very long time later. My buddies Jan, Dean, and Honey were waiting for me with hot coffee, a towel, and lots of great excuses mixed with fake praise. "You looked good out there."
"It was a fast pace today."
"You finished before midnight." Etc.
Then Derek walked over with his smoking hot wife and his hand on an envelope. He was nattily attired in the fanciest apres-ski cycling apparel, which generally means a clean t-shirt and pants. "How'd you do?" I asked.
"I won," he said. "Thanks to the team."
"And Prez," I added. "You couldn't have done it without Prez."
Derek handed me the envelope. "Here's some cash for your blog, man. I don't do PayPal."
"You don't have to do that," I said, thinking guiltily about the similarly generous gift that Dandy Andy had handed me the day before and that I'd immediately cashed and spent on craft water. "But if you insist … "
"I do," he said.
And suddenly, although I still felt like an idiot, I didn't exactly feel like a loser any more.
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Strava war
September 27, 2013 § 65 Comments
There is a Strava segment outside my apartment. I made it. Until a few days ago, only three people had ever ridden it, and two of those rides were before it became a segment.
Let's get this straight. There is no reason for anyone to ride up the street, Ravenspur. It parallels Hawthorne and doesn't go anywhere except to my apartment. It is steep as snot, but there are fifty dozen better climbs within a half-mile that can logically be incorporated into your ride. Among its other drawbacks, once you reach the end you have to make a left onto crazy-busy Hawthorne across four lanes of speeding traffic.
Why segmentize it? Because I don't ride with a Garmin and I wanted to know how fast I could go up it. Oh, and to also sneak myself a little KOM-action, because I hardly have any left. "What the heck," I thought. "No one ever rides up this street. It'll be a nice little vanity-KOM that I can take out, polish, and caress for a few months, maybe longer."
Uh-oh, looks like YOU SUCK!
So you can imagine my chagrin when, four days ago, I got the dreaded message. "Uh-oh! Your KOM was recently devoured whole by Spencer! Enjoy the rest of the day, gnawing on your own liver!"
If it had been anyone else I would have felt sad, despondent, and very blue. This is because I've never retaken a lost KOM. But to have it taken away by Spencer, a dude with eight entire pages of KOM's, was infinitely worse. Why? Because one of the best Strava riders in our neighborhood had targeted me and my piddly KOM. It was important enough for him to track my activities, drill down to my rides, and wrench the precious little KOM from my soft, chubby hands.
I'm sure the moment he took it, the elaborately programmed disco ball in his living room went off, the stereo began playing "We are the Champions" by Queen, and he threw on his ermine robes and tinsel crown as he paraded naked in front of the mirror.
My sad face transformed into one of violent rage, and I set out to reclaim what was rightfully mine.
The devil is in the details
One of the things that was going to make my retake so hard was the very nature of the street. Coming home from work I'm headed uphill, and have to turn left across two lanes of fast, oncoming traffic in order to begin the short but steep climb. This means that when I set the KOM, I did it from an extremely slow starting speed. Spencer's time was twenty-two seconds, one second faster than mine, and I knew that in order to claw back two seconds over a .1-mile segment it would take everything I had.
As I approached the left hand turn I slowed, hoping for a break in traffic so that I wouldn't have to unclip before hitting Ravenspur. Sure enough, the timing was good and I slid through. The bump is quite steep, so I had it in my 39 x 25 and instantly ramped it up to max rpm. By the time I hit the finish, I could barely see. I got off my bike and, unable to stand, had to lean on the top tube to keep from falling down.
But I smiled. "Take that, Spencer."
Imagine my shock when I uploaded my iPhone data and saw that not only was Spencer still the owner of my own little personal front-door segment, but my hardest effort ever was a full second slower than my earlier best time of 23 seconds. Now the devastation was complete, and a part of me died that day. I wiped away the tears and ambled to the dinner table while my family consoled me.
"It's okay, you don't suck at everything!" said Mrs. Wankmeister.
"I'm proud of you, Dad, because you're helping me learn through failure," said my supportive 15-year-old.
The spirit of a warrior
The next day I woke grim and determined. The day flew by, and I hastened it by leaving the office an hour early. My legs felt light, strong, powerful, rested. I warmed up on the ride home, doing quick bursts on Anza and two steady efforts on Via Valmonte and Silver Spur.
When I moved into the left-hand turn lane, I was going a solid ten miles per hour. Magically, a breach appeared in the oncoming traffic. Perfectly geared in my 53 x 21, I launched up Ravenspur. This time there was no question. I raced to the top, collapsing as I had the day before, but secure in the knowledge that I'd reclaimed my KOM.
As I whipped out my iPhone I crowed to Mrs. Wankmeister. "Finally put ol' Snotnose back where he belongs!" She had no idea what I was talking about, but nodded and smiled.
What happened next was too terrible for words, and I collapsed in a heap, sobbing. My "record time" was a full second slower than the day before, which was already a second slower than my all-time best. The better I rode, the slower I went. A couple of hours later, after I'd stopped crying, I called Derek the Destroyer. Through chokes and half-sobs I explained my problem.
"Dude," he said. "You're never gonna get that KOM back."
"I'm not?"
"Why not?"
"These Strava geeks grab the segments strategically."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"The two biggest factors are temperature and wind. Go back and look at the time of day he took it. It was in the morning, when it's cooler. You're always going up that thing at the end of the day, when it's hot. What were you wearing today?"
"I had on my long-sleeve winter jersey from my morning commute into work. I was sweating like crazy."
"Your body won't produce the same wattage when it's 80 degrees as it will when it's 70, or 60, or 50."
"You're joking."
"No, I'm not. That's why you never see any of the Strava geeks take the hard climbs during a group ride. Do you actually know this guy?"
"I've never seen him, in fact."
"It's not that they're stronger riders, it's that they're better Strava riders. Also, go back and look at your segment. Is there only one approach?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're coming at it uphill, right?"
"Yeah. It's a ball-breaker."
"Is it possible to hit it by coming down Hawthorne and turning right? You'd have a huge head of steam there, wouldn't you?"
"Oh, come on. There's no way Spencer would do that. It's a completely different attempt, doing a standing start up a 13 percent grade versus hitting the climb after a 25 mph sweeping turn. Nobody's a big enough wanker to coordinate temperature, wind, and a downhill just to rob me of my one silly KOM."
Derek laughed. "If you say so."
The terrible team of titans
I opened up Strava, unwilling to believe what I'd just heard, and there it was. Spencer had hit the Lungpopper segment on the Hawthorne downhill, after dropping off Highridge. A more evil, sneaky, dastardly, unsportsmanlike thing I couldn't imagine.
This morning after the NPR I was rolling around the Hill with Manslaughter, the Destroyer, Jake, and Whatshisname. They were very curious about the segment. As we discussed the awfulness of the whole thing, a gleam appeared in Manslaughter's eye. "Whattaya say we go and 'pay Spencer a visit'?"
Soon enough we were charging up Via del Monte. When we turned left on Hawthorne and hit the downhill the speed ratcheted up. I signaled the turn and one by one we swooped through it, then jumped as hard as we could, scattered across the road.
When Spencer checks his email later today, he's gonna have to go looking for six spare seconds, because that's how many he now needs to climb back atop the leaderboard. The Destroyer, Jake, and Manslaughter are ahead of him, too. And my front-door segment KOM? It's back where it belongs. And just in case you're thinking about coming out and taking it away, I'll tell you right now: I have a car, and I'm not afraid to use it.


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subset: commoncrawl


text:
One of the most exciting parts of Science House Foundation's collaboration with LNBio, Brazil's national biosciences laboratory, in the city of Campinas, was the placement of a new MicroGlobalScope grant at a local Non-Governmental Organization called Anhumas/Quero-Quero. MicroGlobalScope is a Science House Foundation program that provides complete microscopy kits to science teachers who work with 10-12 year old students and then connects them through a collaborative website.
The above video in Portuguese with English subtitles tells the story of a breakthrough moment where the combination of art with science inspired illiterate children from the slums of Brazil to ask to be taught to read and write. Science House Foundation uses microscopy as an opportunity not just to inspire kids to study science but also as a means to spark their curiosity about the hidden world around them — and the excitement of learning in general.
We hope you will enjoy this story as much as we did.


text:
Molly Brown Girls Hope Small Flower Necklace
Product code: MB220-2
Give the gift of hope and love to a special girl with this beautiful contemporary necklace. Perfect for engraving and adding your personal message, a name or date of birth. A beautiful birthday gift, christening or Holy Communion gift or a thank you for your bridesmaids and flower girls. The pendant measures 14mm high and 1.5mm deep, with the flower cut out measuring at 4mm, set on a 16" chain.
Delivery Information
- Royal Mail Tracked 24 delivery (1-3 working days) £2.95 or free on orders over £75
- Special Delivery (1-2 working days) £5.95 or free on orders over £200
- Please note all Special Delivery orders must be placed before 12PM in order to be received the next working day
- Shipping to all UK addresses
- Dispatched within 2 working days (sale and busy periods exempt)
- Exceptional circumstances and special orders are expected to take around 2-6 weeks
- We keep you informed of your orders progress every step of the way
Please visit our delivery and FAQ page for more information.
Your Guarantee
All products bought from us are guaranteed against defects in materials and workmanship for 12 months from the date of purchase unless stated otherwise by the brand/supplier. If within that period, after having opportunity to inspect a product and are satisfied (acting reasonably) that it is faulty as a result of a defect in materials or workmanship you may return the product to us for a replacement, exchange or refund of the price you paid for the product. You must provide us with the original invoice, despatch note or other proof of purchase.
About Hugh Rice
Hugh Rice the Jewellers was established in 1971 as a family-owned and run business. From humble beginnings as a basement workshop to a chain of thriving high-street jewellery stores, including our new St Stephens store which is the largest in the region, we now stock some of the biggest concessions of fashion and exclusive brand names. As a specialist in diamond jewellery, the Hugh Rice brand has been famous for its value and classic beauty. We offer a comprehensive in-house jewellery design service to all our customers and our diamond jewellery is handmade and assembled in our open viewing workshop.


text:
ED Magedson – Founder
Ripoff Report
Countrywide Transport, Inc. And Zen Van Lines6180 Atlantic Blvd., Ste. F, Norcross, Georgia 30071 And 4514 Chamblee-Dunwoody Rd., Suite 284 Norcross And Atlanta, Georgia U.S.A.
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This report was posted on Ripoff Report on 12/25/2008 09:35 PM and is a permanent record located here: http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/countrywide-transport-inc-and-zen-van-lines/norcross-and-atlanta-georgia-30071-and-30338/countrywide-transport-inc-and-zen-van-lines-company-will-gladly-supply-all-the-ingredie-404895. 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:
The TV election debates will feature just four or five questions because so many leaders are taking part, it emerged today.
In the latest twists to long-running negotiations, broadcasters have decided to change the format by cutting out the opening statements that were a feature of the 2010 debates.
The first and biggest debate will go straight into questions, asked by an audience vetted for political balance.
The party leaders — David Cameron, Ed Miliband, Nick Clegg, Nigel Farage, Natalie Bennett, Nicola Sturgeon and Leanne Wood will have a minute each to answer, followed by a 15-minute debate.
"It means there will be only four or five questions because each one will take up so much time," said a source. "But the all-in debates will be lively."
The leaders will draw lots to decide who stands where on the stage and a firm of opinion pollsters will be called in to assemble a balanced audience of "politically interested" people, with at least a fifth calling themselves "undecided".
- More about:
- David Cameron
- Television


text:
Can I use coconut oil to soften crust in nose?
Doctor Answers 3
Rhinoplasty healing
It is always best to speak to your surgeon since septal perforation repairs can be complicated and different methods may have been utilized by him. In general it is often a good idea to keep the now moist and lubricated. Sounds like you are doing this. There is a nasal saline gel that can also help to soften scabs in addition to the nasal saline. Again ask your surgeon if this is ok to use.
Web reference: http://drsteiger.com/procedures/rhinoplasty/overview/
Septal perforation repair and healing
Healing after repair of a septal perforation can be tricky. I would recommend speaking with your surgeon before manipulating or using anything in your nose. I often will have my patients use bacitracin or mupirocin Good luck
Rhinoplasty issue
Often mild moisturizers like aquaphor can help. But you are best to ask your surgeon. Good luck......
Web reference: https://www.stevenwallachmd.com/face-procedures/rhinoplasty/
You might also like...
These answers are for educational purposes and should not be relied upon as a substitute for medical advice you may receive from your physician. If you have a medical emergency, please call 911. These answers do not constitute or initiate a patient/doctor relationship.


text:
Easyroommmate is the leading online flatshare/flatmate service in the UK. They have more than 190,000 ads with pictures and comments. They gather more than 1,500 flatmate profiles and room ads every day.
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Unfortunately there are currently no offers available for this retailer.


text:
3358 Oak Hollow Drive SE, Grand Rapids MI, 49546
Sold Price:
3 beds , 2 Full/1 Half baths
1,635 sqft
Status: Closed
Last Updated: 5/29/2017 12:49 AM
Description for 3358 Oak Hollow Drive SE Grand Rapids, MI 49546
Very well kept, light n bright classic 2 story on ''park-like'' lot in highly regarded Forest Hills schools. Convenient location to everything yet sequestered away in gorgeously wooded neighborhood of higher priced homes. Spacious LR w/ gorgeous bay window, stylish kitchen w/ built-in hutch, main level FR w/ fireplace, ample bookcases and leading to beautiful 3 season sunroom w/ tile flooring surrounded by nature's beauty. Master w/ private bath, double closets in bedrooms, gleaming slate entry. Stylish rear patio off sunroom. 10x10 home office in basement + potential for more finished living area. 3 yr old furnace + dishwasher, 5 yr old hi-eff washer + dryer included, 11 yr old roof per owner. If you value well-built, well-cared for 2 stories on beautiful lots this is a must-see!
Sold Price:
Sold Date:06/11/2015
Grand Rapids Twp
2 Full/1 Half
1,635 (approx)
Listing Information
Grand Rapids Twp
Public Sewer
Cable TV, Natural Gas, Telephone
School Information
Room Information
Den/Study, Family Room, Laundry Room
Eat-In Kitchen
Interior Features
Cook Top Range, Dishwasher, Dryer, Garbage Disposal, Microwave, Refrigerator, Washer
Central Air, Attic Fan
Gas Heat, Forced Air
Basement, Full
1, Gas logs
Wood Floors
Exterior / Lot Features
Attached Garage, 2 Car Garage
In Ground Sprinklers
Paved Road, Public Roads, Wooded
Driving Directions
Cascade Rd just east of M-37, Edgehill N, Oak Hollow E
Financial Considerations
Listing Price History
Grand Rapids Real Estate
Grand Rapids is located in Michigan. Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 has a population of 195,097.
The median household income in Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546 is $39,913. The median household income for the surrounding county is $52,716 compared to the national median of $53,482. The median age of people living in Grand Rapids 49546 is 30.9 years.
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We have experience in search engine optimization, woocommerce webshops, wordpress, PHP, MySql and basic HTML programming.
Since we own over 100 websites we see these as mandatory projects for the coming decade, so sorry we will not respond to any of your design requests.
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Looking at the art market at the start of the 21st century
In the last decade, the art marketplace has made a quantum leap forward in size. The amount of money, number of galleries and artists worldwide has increased by a significant magnitude in the last 30 years. I am inclined to think this is a permanent state, true it will fluctuate somewhat with the economy but that the general increase will remain.
There are a number of reasons for the increase in size of the art market. The growth is unlike any change in the twentieth century and I believe it is a function of capital formation in the last decade of the twentieth century. For comparison, the last time we saw such a rapid creation of wealth was in the 1890's. A while back I took a look at the Forbes list of fat cats, in the early eighties there were two billionaires, in 2004 there were 860 or about as many as the number of early 80's millionaires. (facts from Forbes but from memory, close enough) Well what about inflation you might say? Not quite enough oomph there, a billion is 1000 times a million and inflation at best would only account for a 10x increase. No, there was an incredible increase in wealth primarily caused by the growth in the areas of technology and of course to a lesser degree an increase in population.
I also believe another reason for the increase in the size of the art market is also a fundamental economic and sociological condition linked to the increasing population. In the modern world, we have applied efficiencies of scale to the production of the basic necessities. While we may complain about how these structural changes are specifically implemented there can be no doubt that one result has been a reduction in the manpower required (jobs) in many sectors of the economy. This displacement of workers has created a situation where new jobs were required in order to maintain "full employment" and maintain social order. In order to do this we created the consumer society. Much has been said about the rampant consumerism of the US culture but the fact is, without consumption of non essential goods, the economy would collapse.
When a society is able to provide the basic necessities to a majority of the population, food, housing, clothing etc, but still needs to create more jobs to keep the expanding population employed (under control) the obvious path is to create a demand for non essential items. This is now occurring on more of a worldwide basis (China, India, Russia) I am aware of the downsides and inequities of this condition but it is what I see occurring at the present moment in history.
A side affect of these changes is that art has become commodified. That is, art has become a necessary part of the economic fabric of sufficiently developed economies. It has created an economic niche which provides employment and creates a commodity which is capable of redistributing wealth. Barring a unforeseen occurrence this condition should persist into the future.
When something becomes commodified it can be traded, bought and sold, based upon a speculation of it's value. If a commodity can be traded in a speculative manner, it can be viewed as an "investment".
All investments, stocks, bonds, real estate etc will fluctuate in price and are subject to market psychology. In particular a severe decline in price like the Millennium Crash in the stock market creates a negative psychology towards the particular asset class. Investors look for other places to invest part of their assets. In the last few years real estate was a favorite but this asset class has become fairly valued, if not overvalued. The return on bonds is relatively small so the investor has looked to other asset classes for investment opportunities.
While art has always been considered an investment I believe it was primarily bought and sold by people with a passion for collecting and an interest in art. In the latter part of the 20th century the art market saw an increase in corporate collecting based upon both a support for the arts and as an investment. At some point the "pure investors" began to take note of the increasing auction prices for art and began to treat art as an investment, as a commodity. In the last five years we have seen the valuation techniques previously only applied to other more traditional investment classes being applied to the art market.
Valuation techniques create the ability to project the possibility of a price change into the future. Forward price projection is a powerful marketing tool but one should realize it is only a speculation which works until it doesn't. Never the less, I suspect the sales pitch that it "will be worth more in the future" is a common tool used to both sell art and raise capital for art based hedge funds.
If I were privy to all the details of the current art auction markets I suspect I would find a few things typical of other investment classes.
I think we would see contemporary certain works bid higher probably excessively higher. Some of these price increases might be outright manipulation but I also think that with certain "blue chip" contemporary works, historical and critical evaluations are fuzzier, popular taste is more pronounced and the works "appear" to be liquid. Investors are willing to pay a premium for artworks which are validated, hence more liquid (easily bought and sold) because even in a price downturn there will still be a market for them. This one fact accounts for part of the pricing issues raised in the Guardian article.
Second I would expect to see a rise in "new issues", the work of young artists. The demand here is created by the desire to invest in lower priced artwork which might eventually achieve "blue chip" status and value. Additionally, the prices on these works are driven by whatever is the latest hot fashion and more subject to price manipulation.
Third, I suspect when the large investors realize when certain historical styles are fairly valued they will look to "the ones that haven't gone up yet" Futurism anyone?
What I have described above is a reasonably describes the current situation but I will also point out that it is not a normal situation. The large influx of capital into the art market is directly a function of the increase in wealth at the end of the 20th century. This is a singular event which will not necessarily occur again anytime soon.
The art market was not prepared to handle this influx of capital. Too much capital casing too few goods, it's a definition of price inflation and accounts for some of the run up in prices. In response, the art market expanded, new galleries opened exhibiting new artists as it tried to supply more goods. This is of paramount importance because it helps explain how the market for young artists work became so overheated in the last few years. As the number of galleries grew, the supply was better able to meet the demand and I would expect that investment decisions would start to be more rational.
Finally, the art market is tied to the economy in two other obvious ways. If there is a recession in the economy (sure thing for 2007), the art market will soften but I doubt it will crash. The second but major factor is inflation, not just US inflation but world wide inflation, which I believe (speculate) is on the rise for the next decade. Inflation will help maintain art prices in absolute dollars/euros but not necessarily in inflation adjusted currencies.
I don't necessarily like it but it is how I see it.


text: I recently bought a Whirly-Pop, which came with a Theater Time popcorn kit, which I used while awaiting for another order of popcorn and coconut oil. The kit was in three parts...popcorn, coconut oil and a butter colored powder, which I assume it was. That first batch had a flavor that I have yet been able to reproduce, which means that something more was in the packet than I guessed. I'm in the process of experimenting, but haven't come close yet, but so far all that I've tried adding in Garlic granules. Whatever the missing ingredient(s), it makes one crave a soda to wash it down, which would obviously be of benefit to theater snackbar sales. Since I know that I'm not the only one that likes popcorn of this kind, someone must know the secret...what is it?


text:
It wasn't what she expected, honestly.
She blinked to let her eyes adjust to the brightness of the room. Everything was white and blinding, offset with black accessories, the decor modern and fancy. The carpet was shag and white, the couches were white along with the walls, shelves and tables.
There were black curtains to imaginary windows, black pillows, vases and large canvases coated with noting but black paint hanging on the walls.
To Isla, the room looked like what she would imagine a flat to be. The living room was clean and pristine while a bar separated the kitchen from the rest of the room. A long glass dining table was set up near the kitchen with six black and white chairs surrounding it.
It was marvelous.
"This is your new home, Dr. Hollande." Damien smiled. "Well, it's really my home, but you can share it with me, since you will be tending to me until I reach optimum health." he smiled.
Vanessa pushed him to the nearest couch, his IVs rattling as she crossed the carpet. Isla followed cautiously, standing before him.
"Well, help him to the couch." Vanessa snapped. Isla looked up at her. She could already tell that Vanessa was going to be a problem.
Isla did as she was told. Her first step was to gain their trust so that she might gain in their ranks next.
"Grab my arms." she instructed him as she slid her arms under his, pulling him close to her chest. She lifted Damien as best as she could, laying him softly on the couch.
Trying to stand, she realized that he still had hold of her. "You can let go now, you're stable."
"Not up here." he whispered, glee in his eyes as he put his index finger to his temple. He held her for a moment longer, then let her go. She stepped back, unnerved and trying to avoid all eye contact, then took a seat in the armchair that faced the couch.
It was plush and comfortable. If she was going to be a hostage, she was going to be comfortable.
"Boss," came a thuggish voice from the elevator. A large man in jeans and a loud Hawaiian shirt stomped into the room, dragging a smaller man in a suit. Well, anyone would be considered small next to the man in the loud shirt.
"Please!" the smaller man shrieked. He was a little beat up, a trickle of blood flowing down his forehead. Isla could definitely tell that he was a family man. What was he doing here?
"Donnovan! What a pleasure!" Damian said. He sat up as best he could, struggling against the pillows with his elbows. Vanessa bent and held him by his arm.
"D-d-don't! I really didn't do it, D-D-Damien!" the man cried, he was on his knees now, begging Damien to listen to him, his face buried into the carpet.
"Don't snivel, Donnovan, you're much better than that." Damien insisted, but as he said this, he put his feet on Donnovans back. Isla looked at Damien from the corner of her eye. Was he playing with this man?
"I didn't tell them, I swear."
"You're the reason why I was in the hospital in the first place, Donnovan." Damien said, digging his heels deeper into the mans back. "Although I can't be that mad at you."
Donnovan stopped squirming for a moment, surprised.
"Because of you, I met this lovely lady here." Damien motioned to Isla. She sat up straighter as everyone turned to face her. She didn't want any part of this. She was just here to nurse this murderer to health, not to kill.
"But still, you should be punished, shouldn't you, Donnovan?"
"No!" he screamed, squirming under Damiens feet. Damien only laughed, a crazy and jittery laugh that sent shivers down Islas spine.
"Do you have a pen?" Damien asked, leaning forward into Donnovans ear.
He froze, except for his shaking. "Y-yes." he whispered.
"Well....GIVE IT TO ME!" Damien yelled into Donnovans face. Isla could see the spit flying from his mouth. She wrinkled her nose as she noticed that Donnovan wasn't the only one shaking.
He pulled a pen from the inside of his coat pocket and handed it to Damien, his eyes jumping from his face to his hands. He reminded Isla of a dog who just pissed on the carpet in front of his master.
"Thank you." Damien said curtly. He clicked the pen into its writing position, then swiftly plunged the sharp end into Donnovans back.
The screams shattered her ears, and she tried as hard as she could to block the sounds with her hands. She closed her eyes and turned her back on the scene in front of her.
Damien was plunging the pen into Donnovans back over and over, his hand ripping gaping and bloody lines into his flesh. Even though she couldn't see the mess behind her, she could smell the blood in the air and feel Donovan slamming his body into the coffee table and floor over and over.
Finally, the screaming stopped, and Donnovan no longer moved. Isla turned around slowly, scared of what she would see. Damien was hunched over on the edge of the couch, gasping for air. She could hear his tiny giggles, broken but sickeningly gleeful.
Islas eyes then moved to Donnovan, his corpse staining the white carpet a deep crimson. There were red splatters on the white couch, and as her eyes followed the stains, on her legs and feet as as well.
She turned her head and threw up on the other side of the couch, not being able restrain herself. It wasn't because of the blood on her legs. No, she was used to that in her occupation.
It was because of the fact that she had just witnessed a murder, not two feet away from her.
"Now go to your room and think about what you've done." Damien laughed, kicking the corpse over onto its back.


text:
Home >> Pet Supplies & Gifts >> Fish & Aquatic Pets >> Aquarium Decor >> Tank Dividers >> DIY Assembling Fish Tank Fry Hatchery Breeding Aquarium Net Breeder NB-3202A
|Product Name
|Aquarium Net Breeder
|Plastic & Nylon
|Total Size
|25.5 x 14.7 x 14cm/ 10" x 5.7" x 5.5"(L*W*H)
|Each Suction Cup Dia.
|2.7cm/ 1"
|Net Weight
|Package Content
1 x Aquarium Net Breeder
1 x White Nylon Net
6 x Suction Cups
- Easy to install and easy to use.
- It is important to isolate pregnant fish, giving them peace to give birth separated from community tank fish. After birth, fish can be put back into community tank leaving baby fish to grow large enough in this Fish Net Breeder.
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text:
Ulissa M.
Nanny in Pasadena, TX 77503.
Looking for full-time work as a nanny.
Enhanced Background Check not run.
Enhanced Background Check(Not Run)
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CPR Training
Pasadena, TX
- Age 31
- 7 years paid experience
- Female
Last signed in: More than 6 months
Preferred Rate $400-$500 per week
Age Specific Experience
7 years of paid child care experience with:
- First year
- Toddlers (1 to 3 years)
- Preschooler (3 to 5 years)
- Grade School (6 to 11 years)
- Pre-teen/Teenagers (12 years and over)
Special Needs Experience
Special Needs Conditional Experience
- Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD)
- Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)
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Availability Duration
- Permanent (2 or more years)
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- Will consider a full time position
- Available to start on 10/13/2015
My availability is valid through 10/31/15
- Weekday Early Morning (Before School)
- Day-time Weekdays (M - F)
- Weekday Afternoons (After School)
Skills & Abilities
Languages Spoken:
- Spanish
Additional Services:
- Potty Training
- Meal Preparation
- Laundry
- Light Housekeeping
- Willing to drive children to events, school, appointments, or carpooling
- Homework Help


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Impact Sight: Cameron Gainer
Impact Sight
Reception, Sunday, May 4, 4–6pm
Cameron Gainer is a New York-based artist whose work explores the presence and power of photography in contemporary culture, particularly how a photograph can catalyze belief and disbelief. The exhibition brings together three large-scale sculptural works including a new commission on view at CAM, and installations at the USF Botanical Gardens and USF Riverfront Park. The two outdoor works are based on 20th century alleged hoaxes that Gainer sites and models from photographic sources; often the only form of evidence that sightings actually occurred.
The exhibition is curated by David Norr, Curator of Exhibitions and Special Projects and is accompanied by a forthcoming publication with essays by critic Gregg Perkins and the curator.
The USF Institute for Research in Art is recognized by the State of Florida as a major cultural institution and receives funding through the Florida Department of State, the Florida Arts Council and the Division of Cultural Affairs. The Contemporary Art Museum is accredited by the American Association of Museums. Cameron Gainer: Impact Sight is made possible by the Members and Corporate Partners of the USF Institute for Research in Art, the USF School of Art and Art History, and the USF Botanical Gardens.
If you have any questions on exhibitions or artwork you see on this site please email CAM. If you have difficulty with any part of this site, please email the Webmaster.Copyright and Reproduction
The electronic images available on this site are subject to copyright and may be covered by other restrictions as well. The images are made available to the general public as a representation of USF Contemporary Art Museum's programs. Copy or redistribution in any manner for commercial use is not permitted. Anyone wishing to use any of these images for commercial use, publication, or for any purpose other than personal fair use must first request and receive prior written permission from the University of South Florida Institute for Research in Art. Please contact Associate Director Alexa Favata at 813.974.4324 for more information.


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Finding the perfect personal trainer can be like searching for a soulmate - and breaking up can be tricky, too.
It's a thought no fitness buff ever wants to have: that their personal trainer might just not be into them.
But Orla O'Leary, a Sydney personal trainer, says finding the right trainer is, indeed, like dating, and some pairings work better than others, regardless of the fact you're paying them to be with you.
You might respond to a military-type person; you might respond to a softer style.
Case in point: the time O'Leary, an upbeat 39-year-old who finds it easiest to work with ''relaxed'' clients, trained a bunch of twentysomething male ''corporates'' who ''just didn't really want to talk''.
''I was getting so little feedback from them in the first few sessions that I was like, 'I can get them to run and run and do more stuff; these guys are machines,''' she says. ''Eventually one of them got so pale, he ran behind a tree and vomited. It was a pride thing. But because he was not telling me that he was absolutely wrecked, that's how I learnt that I reached [his] limit.''
Clients speak of colossal mismatches, too. Katie Yates, a 40-year-old mother of two from Northbridge who works out twice a week with two separate trainers, recalls the group session she once had with a vain twentysomething who ''was too busy looking at her image in the reflection in windows as she was [running] past to notice what was going on [with us]. She actually said, 'People find me a bit cold', and we're going, 'Yeah, we noted that.'''
Why is the hunt for a suitable trainer often so fraught, given the relationship would seem to be so straightforward? (You're fit; will you train me?)
O'Leary says many clients suffer from unrealistic expectations, and expect their trainers to fix every part of their lives.
''It's a little bit of therapy for some people,'' she says.
''I've had people in tears because of rows with their partners and situations at work. They kind of come to training thinking that they can disperse all of their problems to the trainer, rather than actually focusing [on a particular goal, such as losing weight or getting fit].''
Complicating the picture further is the fact anyone can set themselves up as a personal trainer, even without any training, says Kylie Fahey, the chief executive of the Australian Institute of Personal Trainers.
So as a first step, prospective clients should make sure their trainer is registered with a peak fitness body (such as Fitness Australia or Physical Activity Australia) and, at a ''minimum'', have received their certificate 4 in fitness from a reputable school.
This provides a ''base level'' of knowledge about anatomy, physiology, exercise programming, risk assessment and occupational health and safety regulations.
Then they need to figure out which training style suits them.
''You might respond to a more military-type person, 'Drop and give me 10'; you might respond to someone with a bit of a softer encouraging style,'' Fahey says. ''Go and speak to some trainers, talk to them about how they'll get the best out of you, and if a trainer doesn't [meet your expectations], move on.''
But what's the etiquette behind taking that step, moving on?
If your trainer works at your favourite beach or gym, must you avoid it, post break-up, during their training hours? Or do you play ''fitness roulette'', as one of O'Leary's former clients did, and frequent your old patch in the hopes your former coach won't see you, and then avoid eye contact and dart away the second they do?
Fahey advocates for the most ''respectful'' approach. ''Make sure that you're communicating if [your] goals have changed and that trainer is no longer able to support you.''
In other words, ultra-fit people have feelings, too. As O'Leary puts it: ''No one likes being dumped.''
Meet your match
❏ Observe trainers in parks and gyms to discover which approach suits you best.
❏ Be clear about your goals.
❏ Request a review of your training after five sessions.


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Our entire team is dedicated to providing you with the personalized, gentle care that you deserve. All our staff is dedicated to your comfort and prompt attention as well....more
Our entire team is dedicated to providing you with the personalized, gentle care that you deserve. All our staff is dedicated to your comfort and prompt attention as well.
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SAI PRASANNA MEDICALS is known for housing experienced General Physicians. Dr. Brahmesh Guntamukkala, a well-reputed General Physician, practices in VISAKHAPATNAM. Visit this medical health centre for General Physicians recommended by 50 patients.
Yendada VISAKHAPATNAM, Andhra Pradesh - 530045
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18 years old female from Nagapattinam asked
Whenever I eat non-veg, I am affected by food allergies. But I am eat fish I can't affected by any kind of allergies. Why it happen?
That's because your suffering from food allergy. Once consult dermatologist for the items you should avoid because of food allergy.
0 year old male from Mysore asked
I have to have full meals for the dinner. If I eat less I can not fall asleep. I tried several time but I fail to sleep and eventually come back to kitchen to have khakras. Which help me fall asleep. I am slimmer as a whole but have a big belly. People say to loose belly fat we should have a light dinner. But I can not sleep with that. I am a vegetarian. Kindly suggest some remedy so that I can b full after dinner without putting too much fat into my belly.
24 years old female from Kolkata asked
Will I get pregnant by any chance? My boyfriend and I have never had sex with each other but on 21st May he and I took a bath together. We were under a shower. And at that time he had ejaculated on my breasts. I was then standing when I poured water on my chest to clean that area. So his cum flowed down along with the water. I'm scared that what if his semen went inside my vagina or near my vagina along with the flowed water. I'm really scared. I don't know what to do. Please help me. On 27th May I got my periods but this time I did not bleed much. I even got very bad cramps in my stomach and pelvic area. I do get cramps every time I get my period for 2-3 days but this time it was paining very badly. I even had to take pill to make the pain stop. And it was during the first three days I had got bad gas also. I'm really scared. I don't want to get pregnant. Please help me. And provide me correct information. Should I take home pregnancy test or not? Please help me. Please.
There's no chance of getting pregnant without sexual intercourse. No chance of getting pregnant for just having bath with the partner. There must be a proper intercourse for getting pregnancy. You got periods also, so not to worry about pregnancy. But do take proper care not to have sex without any barriers.
32 years old female from Srinagar asked
Dear sir, I am so bulky my abdomen is going bulky day by day. I am not eating any thing till 6 p. M only a cup of tea with bread at 11 a. M in the office. The. After office I take tea again with bread but still I am going bully specially my stomach nd abdomen. So plz.
Too much fasting also leads to obesity. Have a healthy and timely breakfast. Don't skip breakfast at any cost. Have less oily foods. Only take dinner litely.
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Beat busy stores and long lines by enjoying a new holiday shopping experience equipped with digital devices.
We have the best of intentions as holiday season approaches. Shop early. Shop strategically. Combat crowds. Be victorious, and complete shopping list by goal of December. Yet, our best of intentions seem to fall short as we're inundated with — life. Become a holiday shopping warrior, and overcome the stress of holiday crowds, traffic, and disgruntled customers by shopping online armed with your digital devices.
Online Shopping
Imagine sitting fireside with a mug of hot cocoa and Christmas carols playing in the background. Wrapped up in a red and white plaid blanket, you're playing the role of Santa Claus and checking off your holiday list one online purchase after another. Your digital devices serve as storefronts and cashiers, but sans long lines and personal space invasions while shopping merchandise.
New Holiday Shopping Experience
Red Door Interactive reports that for 2013, holiday spending is projected to increase by more than 15 percent, and one quarter of it will be from online sales. Although shopping crowds are a traditional part of the holidays, you can eliminate that stress by transforming your holiday shopping experience. This year, get into the holiday spirit by sipping on a peppermint mocha at a coffee shop while browsing on your tablet or cozy up with your loved one at home with a Christmas movie on while you both shop online using your notebooks. It'll be a new holiday shopping experience, yet without the burden of overcrowded stores and long lines.
Social Shopping
In addition to visiting your retailer's websites directly, visit your favorite brand's social networking platforms, such as Facebook, Pinterest and Instagram, to find visual gift-giving inspiration. Once you find gifts perfect for close friends and family, make a schedule for visiting that physical store at off-peak times and head directly to that item while on a mission — get in and out.
Online shoppers, about 65 percent according to Internet Retailer, will "window shop" online to find items and then purchase those items at the physical store, a term Accenture pegged as "webrooming." You'll still have the holiday shopping experience by heading out to the mall to make purchases, but can make it a destination-driven trip with purpose. While webrooming, you may fight crowds in the trenches, but it'll be quick battle and not a war.
Mobile Shopping
Retailers will meet the needs of online holiday shopping through mobile commerce, which is estimated to increase by 68 percent. Forget hauling the stroller into your car and trying to shop as a family circus. Clutch your smartphone and browse deals as dinner cooks or while sitting on the couch after the kids are in bed. As you prep for the holidays, the following three apps can help maximize and manage the relaxed (non-crowded) holiday shopping digital experience.
- ReturnGuru (Free, Apple iOS, Microsoft Windows Phone): Photographs, stores and tracks receipts and sends alerts pending expiration
- RedLaser (Free, Apple iOS, Google Android, Microsoft Windows Phone): Scans merchandise, compares retailer prices and serves as a payment device
- Santa's Bag (Free, Apple iOS): Organizes holiday lists including the person, their gift, total price, and grand total to spend. The app monitors your holiday spending budget and counts down until Christmas


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Dawson, Ga.--One of the more dynamic athletes in the 2017 football recruiting class, four-star Tray Bishop from Terrell County High is a player who is continuing to develop his skills at the quarterback position.
A player the Auburn Tigers have a commitment from and one who is expected to compete for the quarterback job when he gets to the Plains, Bishop said for him the focus for his senior season has been to be more patient.
"I feel comfortable," Bishop said of his development as a quarterback. "I'm still dealing with a young line, but right now I feel like with me going to play quarterback on the next level I had to be more patient. I have to sit in the pocket a little bit more and that's what I have tried to do. I feel like I have improved a lot."
Tray Bishop plays three sports at Terrell County High School.
Totaling more than 300 yards with three touchdowns in his team's first game, Bishop had 172 total yards and two more touchdowns this past week in a loss to Miller County. With only 10 total carries on the night for 45 yards, and several coming because of bad snaps in the shotgun, he said his goal has been to be a guy wgi makes defenses respect his ability to throw the football in addition to his legs.
"It's kind of hard," Bishop said of forcing himself to stay in the pocket. "For three years everybody has been looking for me to run the ball and get to the outsid.e With me passing the ball a little bit more it opens up defenses."
Choosing Auburn this summer over Florida, Georgia and several others, Bishop said the comfort level with the coaching staff was one of the biggest things for him in picking the Tigers. Also factoring in was Auburn's offense, something he feels like will be a good fit for him when he gets to the Plains.
"Right now it's very important," Bishop said of his comfort with Auburn. "Right now we're trying to get our offense similar to what they run so it won't be as tough on me when I get there."null


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News on the Cars You Want to See: Mazda MX-5 Miata
Inside this edition: Porsche GT3 RS, Lotus Sport Elise, Jaguar XKR, Volkswagon EOS, and much more!
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Mazda Retracts the MX-5
pulled the cover off a power retractable-hardtop version of its popular at a most fitting place — the British International Motor Show; fitting, because the Miata has served as the modern interpretation of the classic British roadster since the little 2-seater was launched in 1990. The MX-5 Power Retractable Hard Top (as it will be called in the U.S., or MX-5 PRHT for those of us less loquacious) is scheduled to arrive in showrooms by September. —MM
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The Seasons Apartments9220 Old Lantern Way Laurel, Maryland United States of America
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Let us know when your receive great advice so we can thank our lawyers and point others with similar questions in the right direction.Got it!
I got a message on my answering service stating that a person would be by my house between 4:00 and 7:00 PM tomorrow. The person is to deliver paper work on a payday loan in the amount of $700.00 or I can pay it off for a lesser amount. I think this is the second time they have called the last time was about a month ago. I haven't called the attorney yet this time. The loan was taken out in 2009 and I thought that I paid it off. The last time I looked over my older files that I posted and there was another time I had asked similar to the same question and one Attorney said to forget it that it wasn't enough money for them to take it to court. What should I do?
Don't panic. These people are trying to intimidate you into paying the money which may be beyond the statute of limitations. If you get served with legal papers, you will need to file an answer to avoid a default judgment. Unlikely they would do this over a $700 debt and even more unlikely that they would warn you ahead of time of the exact time you would be served - that information is best kept a surprise. You can choose to pay the debt if you wish - that would certainly end this. Or you can ignore them but they are not likely to go away quickly.
Here are the statues of limitations on debt in North Carolina:
Written contract: 3 years
Promissory note: 5 years
Open end account: 3 years
The information provided herein does not create an attorney client relationship and is not a substitute for having a consultation with a bankruptcy attorney. It is important to have a consultation with a bankruptcy attorney as the information provided in this forum is limited and cannot possibly cover all potential issues in a given situation.Ask a similar question
It's 3 years for promissory notes. If signed under seal then it's 10 years.
Thank you for the correction - I got that information off a website that must have been out of date or just plain wrong
Regarding the statutes of limitations, the time periods can start over if you sign something agreeing to repay the debt. Be careful that you do not give them a gift here, but see if they will take some small portion of the debt to go away. Sometimes it's cheaper to make a deal, than to be right and waste a year of your life trying to prove it.Ask a similar question
This has all the red flags of a scam. Please review the prior postings on this message board about this topic. There will be nobody come by. If someone claims to be an attorney, get their NC State Bar Number and go on the State Bar web site at www.ncbar.com to see if it is a real bar number. If it is, and the name matches, call the phone number for that lawyer that is shown on the State Bar record to see if that lawyer is really involved. There are impostor scammers who claim to be from a law office and use a real State Bar number but that lawyer has no idea their number is being used for a scam.
This message is intended for informational purposes only. It is impossible to consider all relevant facts from a message board question. No attorney-client relationship has been created. Readers should seek a personal legal consultation with an attorney of their choice for the most accurate advice.Ask a similar question
Sounds like a possible scam. It might be wise to pull your credit report and see how that particular debt is being reported.Ask a similar question
This is most likely a scam, but DON'T dismiss it. I have seen judgments against people for debts they did not owe, but they ignored the paperwork. They can get you if you ignore it and get you if you hand over the money.
I doubt they will appear to serve you at that time . . . highly unlikely but possible.
If they do serve you, get proof you paid it (if possible) and run it by an attorney. You may be able to sue them. You also may want to record any of their calls.Ask a similar question
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My six-year-old son always saves up his Big Questions for when I'm driving because he knows that I can't change gear and the subject at the same time. This time it was the inevitable "How did I get here?" As I have always drip-fed my children information on a need-to-know basis, I was fairly certain that we had already covered this, but I was overtaking a juggernaut at the time, so I took a good gulp of air and went for the abridged version.
"I've explained this to you before. Daddy gave Mummy the seed and the seed met her egg and they made you." He seemed satisfied with this answer, but his sister of nine clearly wasn't. "Listen, dur-brain, Mummy and Daddy sexed." His little face crumpled. "They didn't sex!" he sobbed, clearly appalled at the thought. I restrained myself from saying that I knew just how he felt.
Violent reactions to the news that parents engage in such activity are not uncommon. A friend's eight-year-old child, Faith, was so incensed by her suspicions that her parents, having installed her in front of a video, were having a quickie in the locked bathroom that she put Harry Potter on pause, removed a screwdriver from the toolbox and jemmied the bathroom door open to a frenzy of towel-grabbing. So intense was Faith's outrage that her parents spent the next two hours consoling her, apologising and finally weakly promising never to do it again.
Determined not to bring up our kids on the same insipid diet of misinformation that sustained our own childhoods, my friends and I have always taken the modern approach to sex education, providing anatomically correct, textbook answers to the relentless barrage of salacious questions. But we are now wondering if an overdeveloped sense of liberal rectitude has led us to give too much away. With frightening frequency, we find ourselves reduced to quivering wrecks by dangerously knowledgeable tweenies who will insist on discussing the finer nuances of sex with each other and, worse, with us, at an age when they should still be playing Junior Monopoly and falling off their bikes.
In this quiet corner of west London, the full-frontal assault on parents' sensibilities gathered momentum when eight-year-old Patty's granny gave the family Miriam Stoppard's Questions Children Ask for Christmas. It seemed a surprising choice for someone on first-name terms with the vicar. Only retrospectively did it dawn on Patty's parents that the book was given with the intention of curbing rather than promoting prurient chit-chat - that the book is, in fact, a guide for adults on how to field those sticky questions.
In an infant's hands, however, the book becomes a deadly code-cracker for parental euphemism and understatement, the juvenile equivalent of an Enigma machine. Needless to say, Patty got her paws on Miriam and has proved remarkably efficient at memorising and circulating every detail of the chapter on sex. Consequently, half the children in her primary-school playground have been asking us and older siblings a rash of tricky supplementary questions and have taken to swapping lurid details as if they were Pokémon cards.
Hence Waldo, seven, asks his mother to guess whether he has a "resurrection" when he gets out of the bath (she gets a wish if she guesses right). Harriet, eight, sits on her slumbering parents' bed and issues the instructions: "You do it and I'll watch." Katie, nine, secretly watches Channel 5 after the watershed and throws her body in front of the screen when caught by her mother: "Mummy, you can't watch this, it's too rude," she says, sternly. "She's doing a blow job. I hope you've never done that to Daddy."
Then my son asks his sister, "What's a lezzie?" I'm preparing to jump in like an SAS commando when the girl explains: "It's when two women love each other and do sexin'." "Oh, so it's like a lesbian, Mum," he sagely advises me, with just a flicker of a leer.
Lurking around every corner like Midwich Cuckoos, our children are waiting for any opportunity to embarrass their parents. We must be vigilant or be mocked for eternity. The coup de grâce came when my daughter announced, in front of her ever attentive brother, that she had learned some new words. Always keen to encourage a lively vocabulary, I gave her my full attention. "They are," she said, chewing over the words like bubble-gum and carefully studying my face for reaction, "cun, masburtation and organasm." Holding back a strong inclination to correct her pronunciation, I put my foot down. I've told my children that they're not allowed to discuss sex with me again until I'm at least five years older.


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Katarzyna Kopaczewska
Managing Director – Poland
Katarzyna joined Accace in 2011 being appointed to the position of Head of Outsourcing Services. At that time Katarzyna had already over 8 years experience in BPO business – as she was working for BDO as a consultant in the area of financial processes optimization and restructuring.
In 2013 Katarzyna was appointed to Managing Director of Accace Poland and currently leads a team of more than 20 professionals. Katarzyna is a certified accountant and her experience covers full-range BPO advisory projects, financial due diligence, audits as well as provision of payroll and HR administration services. She brings a significant consultancy business knowledge and oversees the large scale projects and service deliveries for our customers in Poland and in CEE region.
Katarzyna is a graduate of Warsaw School of Economics, with main field in finance and marketing. She also acquired a post graduate degree in Tax Law. She is fluent in Polish and English.


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Winter Waterfall Smart Cardigan
Sign up now to get your own personal style guide to what to wear and to see clothes recommendations from over 500 retailers.
What the retailer says
Delivering style and warmth to this season's looks, this knitted waterfall cardigan has an open-front cut and full-length sleeves. Model wears UK 8/UK S/EU 36/US 4. Model height is 175 cm/5'9.


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James: Regret in a gulpMature
"Don't worry Bond it's not shaken or stirred." May says, not quite knowing what happens to me when I drink, but I didn't want to appear like an idiot so she is going to learn why I hesitate at this even though I'm the one who is going to regret this more than May. I take a sip swearing I could feel the effects.What feels like an eternity later which was essentially only 5 minutes later May asks.
"Are you going to keep that thing till the next ice age or something?"
"Oh." I say taking a gulp, I could see the questioning look in her eye, just as the first sip of liquid confidence took affect,"There half done now, I was really actually hoping to save it for the ice age would brighten things up before I freeze to death." I laugh making no sense at all.
"Alright Bond your crazy."
"That would make sense I really should be sitting on a bed making sure I don't split these." I lift my shirt to show her, then look over the edge of the boat.
"Yeah I saw those already James no need to impress."May says, and I look at her, and had the urge to hold her shit first symptom I feel really touchy ,and stuff. I keep my attention off May, at least I still had some control, I'm doing better than usual, that's when I barf into the ocean, May laughs.
"You could have just told me you can't handle your liquor well."May says, I smile.
"What makes you say that?" I get up and sort of stumble, crap next is my vision then, I won't have to worry about a thing because I won't care, at least till tomorrow morning. I finish the bottle hoping to remove the burning sensation in my throat. May walks up to me.
"I think we better get ya a place to stay then ha ha, this is why I can't take you anywhere!"
"I don't feel like going an-anywere." I begin to slur.
"No knowing you, you'll get into trouble." May reply I start to sing something incoherent she stops and begins to luagh.
"Your crap at singing."
"Th th a- nk you." I say thinking I was standing up straight looking directly at may.
"You Know may I really like you, more than any other girl that I have met,and its not cuz I say you naked.... Okay maybe partially but your so nice, nicest person ever." I say leaning and managing not to slur forwards trying to kiss her but instead I fall directly into her, and I remember no more.
I feel a headache, a pounding headache, and faint memories of last night, oh this is a hangover I wake up back in the motel room, I make sure all my clothes are on because I really like to know I haven't done anything stupid. Okay there still on, that is good. Then I remember I told May I liked her which was the truth and I quickly turned red. May was on the floor somewhat awake.
"May? Did I say anything last night, cuz if I did.... Urm" Should I just say its true or to forget it?,"forget it?"
Was that a good move?Probably, I mean the less attached I or she becomes the better I don't want her to get killed. I get up and feel a wet sensation on my stomach red when I lift the shirt some of the blood was dry but its still running.
"Ah crap they broke again."
"Broke, what again?........... Oh my god are you alright! You know what screw it I'm taking you to the hospital whether you like it or not!"


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It only takes a minute to get started. Fill out our uncomplicated sign up form and login to the site.
This step is elective but will dramatically raise your chances of getting interest from other over 50s members on the site. Write a little something about yourself, your interests and upload a nice photo of yourself.
Use our website's sophisticated search to spot over 50s members who meet your criteria. Or just leaf through listings and spot singles that seem interesting.
Found someone who you're attracted to? Send a note to them or just a wink and take it from there. With a little luck you'll be on your way to finding your suitable match.
It'll only take a few minutes


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Posted by Joe Gammons
Brandon Stewart and my company have been engaged for over 10 years and he has been exemplary from my perspective. Brandon has handled everything from lawsuits on behalf of our firm to advising us on HR matters to transaction work. He is a trustworthy person who I would recommend to any business owner looking for a partnership with an attorney.