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User Reviews for Calcium / vitamin d
Also known as: Calcarb with D, Calcet, Calcio Del Mar, Calcitrate with D, Calcium 600 D, Caltrate 600 with D Plus Soy, Caltrate 600+D, Caltrate Colon Health, Caltrate Gummy Bites, Caltro with Vitamin D, Calvite P, Chewable Calcium with Vitamin D, Citracal + D, Citracal Calcium Gummies, Citracal Calcium Pearls, ...show all 43 brand names
The following information is NOT intended to endorse drugs or recommend therapy. While these reviews might be helpful, they are not a substitute for the expertise, skill, knowledge and judgement of healthcare practitioners in patient care.
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|Summary of Calcium/vitamin d reviews
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Reviews for Calcium/vitamin d
Caltrate 600+D (calcium / vitamin d) for Osteoporosis: "took generic caltrate for over a year, suffered nightly with severe skin sensitivity on torso, stopped pills and had immediate relief. did research on fillers and I think I have a sensitivity to tartrazine, a yellow dye that is a listed ingredient . spent over a year trying to find out what was causing this painful condition, never read of or heard of anyone with the same symptoms. just in case there is anyone out there who has this extreme sensitivity, check non active ingredients on any prescribed or otc med. it could be one of the fillers, this one in particular has a bad rap."
yoshabell June 11, 2016
16 users found this comment helpful.
Caltrate 600+D (calcium / vitamin d) for Osteoporosis: "Helps with mobility &helps relieve the pain better than over the counter meds"
godzilla151 June 30, 2015
14 users found this comment helpful.
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- Drug class: vitamin and mineral combinations
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Written on: 26/08/2012 by Dmiller (1 review written)
I tried to purchase gloves for my son and luckily my bank would not approve of the transaction it came up fraud. Also there is no tele phone number to talk with a sales person.
Written on: 08/09/2012
I'm actually a competitor for this company but what you've said is completely absurd and incorrect. Your bank declined the transaction NOT because the company was fraudulent but because they thought YOUR card details had got into the wrong hands. Their phone number is on their website very clearly.
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Monogram Stella Side Tie Pullover
Fits True to Size. The Model is Wearing a Small.
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60% Polyester, 32% Rayon, 8% Spandex
If you would like to order this without a monogram please check the "no monogram" box.
Please make sure to enter the initials in the EXACT order that you would like them.
Monograms are typically: First Name Initial, LAST Name Initial, Middle Name Initial. For example, Margaret Elizabeth Blake would be listed as MBE. We will not rearrange the letters.
Please allow 10-15 business days for delivery.
All Sales are Final.


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Franklin Coetzee09/09/2016
Comments09/03/2017 #6 Robin BartonI heart puppies!09/03/2017 #5 Paz🐝 Hueso Luque😍😍😍😍😍😍😍09/03/2017 #4 Adela Garciaohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! ¿Cómo habrá conseguido que todos se estén quietos?09/03/2017 #3 Yogesh Sukalinnocence...07/03/2017 #2 Maria Merino OslaraNice!!07/03/2017 #1 Pedro CasanovaDont you think bad...they are first degree cousins...mother side...
Flávio Rodrigues Vieira31/10/2016
Comments01/11/2016 #8 Renée 🐝 CormierHe's got good kissing lips! :)31/10/2016 #7 Deb 🐝 Helfrich#6 I agree completely.31/10/2016 #6 Flávio Rodrigues Vieira#5 I will take a few more, the secret is to take care, there is no dangerous breed, there is a dangerous man, he is a love!31/10/2016 #5 Deb 🐝 Helfrich#4 I will be looking forward to seeing more pictures of Bob in my hive....
I love this angle, we can see the love!31/10/2016 #4 Flávio Rodrigues Vieira#3 his name is Bob, a 6 year old rottweiler, a jealous child, lol =)31/10/2016 #3 Deb 🐝 HelfrichThat's why I made a Canine Companions hive. What is his name?31/10/2016 #2 Flávio Rodrigues Vieira#1 me ayuda mientras que la pintura de la casa! jajajaja31/10/2016 #1 Fran 🐝 BrizzolisJamás te fallará!!!
- Producer
Kim Wheeler11/07/2016The Journey...The Journey... About ten years ago and after completing four years at a Pain Clinic, I with my new found freedom and removal of my own self loathing I decided to teach myself some new skills, these were...Write a book...I have written ten...and get...
Comments15/07/2016 #24 Kim WheelerI have often pondered this question @Charles David Upchurch and as yet cannot come to a happy solution apart from we all are missing love..and irrespective of how this love comes to us, we all, all miss it when it's gone...with the added knowledge that sadly we cannot change time and go back but we have the memories and the photos which usually make me smile then make me weep, for the aforementioned loss of thats persons or pets love.....13/07/2016 #23 Deb 🐝 Helfrich#21 #22 Very interesting questions, @Charles David Upchurch. I know I thought that my first dog, Tangenyika, would be the only dog in my lifetime. I held that thought as truth until five days after her death....and then I decided to cauterize the wound with a replacement puppy. It still remains the single best and worst decision I ever made. Life is complex and I decided to follow the path that promised to yield more love.13/07/2016 #22 Charles David Upchurch... Why must we painfully miss the ones we love, when they are gone? Can't our love for them when they are with us be enough? I will always love my grandparents, for example, and the peace of their remembrance has gradually lessened the pain of missing them. Can it be the same with closer relatives, and with our animal children when they are no longer with us?13/07/2016 #21 Charles David UpchurchI'll include my beloved canine, my dog daughter Friendly, in an upcoming post, @Kim Wheeler. After 10 years, it's still hard to think about her without a few tears. I recently read a comment somewhere from a still-single mom (do they still call themselves widows?) who couldn't bring herself to accept a proposal from a wonderful man that she loves, because she is still so in love with her late husband, and can't let go.12/07/2016 #20 Kim Wheeler@Lacey @Lisa.........thank you both (in fact all) the kind thoughtful comments..i guess getting badly injured and taking forced retirement pointed me towards the life I now have and altho wracked in pain I still love walking and just adore the company of my dogs ....and cancer..yeah what a brutal vile illness...and what does a dog do to deserve such suffering........makes you wonder..thanks again for all the kind comments...cheers me up no end...x12/07/2016 #19 Lacey Wofford@Kim Wheeler, your story is amazing. I'm not only incredibly jealous that you get to roam such a beautiful countryside with your best friends (your incredible rescue pups), but the fact that you've accomplished so much in your life despite the hardships you faced is astounding. I'm also very sorry for your losses and can only imagine how painful it must be to lose your dogs to cancer. Thank you for sharing.12/07/2016 #18 Lisa 🐝 Gallagher@Kim Wheeler, your dogs are beautiful. I know you feel lucky to have them but they are just as lucky to have a human companion who loves them as deeply as yu do. I'm so sorry for your loss. The loss of a beloved pet is never easy. My cocker spaniel was only 7 when hit with cancer suddenly. She lived 3 months after her diagnosis and having to PherTS was one of the toughest things I've done, so I can truly feel your pain. I have a 13 year old Boston Terrier (old style.. ) who I worry about now as you do Big Bear. I wish a dog's life span was much longer but life is unpredictable. This is a great story for others suffering from physical trauma! Thanks for sharing and your dogs are beautiful.12/07/2016 #17 AnonymousI love this Buzz. It shows the true bond between humans and canines. A dog can absolutely be a motivator for humans. This is one of the reasons they are used in therapy. Dogs give us so much and we try to return what they give to us and try to be the human they think we are.11/07/2016 #15 Mickael Angelo Yusufidis@Kim Wheeler joy and peace to you, I'm eight weeks pain free after a decade bout of dealing with chronic pain illness. I've walked the depths of hell, all nine levels and I'm so very excited to explore the heavens, keep journeying...thank you for the inspiration.11/07/2016 #14 Deb 🐝 Helfrich#13 I think live and love are the same thing.... in a deep, fundamental way.11/07/2016 #13 Aaron Skogen#12 A Pleasure @Deb 🐝 Helfrich. Except I think my iPhone "autocorrected my intended "Love" for "Live", oh well, you knew what I meant :-).11/07/2016 #12 Deb 🐝 Helfrich#5 I truly appreciate the shout out, @Aaron Skogen! Zanzi and I had just came back in from our mid-day walk and we were both thrilled to get the notification!11/07/2016 #11 Deb 🐝 HelfrichI personally will never tire of reading about a person's bond with their dogs. There is something profoundly reliable in the love we share with our dogs. I am so glad to have given you the impetus to share your story and your 6 fantastic canine companions!
Keep on walking, @Kim Wheeler - perhaps we will get a take a stroll in the coming years!11/07/2016 #10 Kim Wheeler#7 @Charles really really appreciate your words...11/07/2016 #8 Sue Chien LeeSo glad to read you @Kim Wheeler and to "meet" your fur-kids. Mine were ducks and rabbits.11/07/2016 #7 Charles David UpchurchDon't miss this. If you don't already know Kim Wheeler, you will want to meet him before you finish reading this lovely and true story about mutual rescuers. Also, PLEASE COMMENT after reading. I think Kim would appreciate that.11/07/2016 #6 Kim Wheeler@Aaron Skogen..yes I saw her post and that brought out the passion to write about mine....thanks for the heads up and kind words....11/07/2016 #5 Aaron Skogen@Kim Wheeler, I meant to mention this e-book by @Deb 🐝 Helfrich, entitled "A Tale of Grief and Puppy Live" availabile at http://www.insightsoccur.com/. You may find it helpful. . .11/07/2016 #4 Loribeth PiersonThat brought tears to my eyes, @Kim Wheeler. Thank you for sharing part of your journey with us. Wonderful pictures of your fur-kids. I am also a dog person, my fur-kid is Chance AKA "Fancy Pant's" He is my best friend and you are right they give unconditional love. I am sorry for your loss of your babies. I do not look forward to that day I have to say good-bye .But for today I am blessed with a healthy almost 9-year-old Australian Sheppard, blue merle. He makes me happy every day and walking keeps him happy!
Pau Tubert Resplandis10/04/2016
Jim 🐝 Cody20/03/2016
Comments20/03/2016 #2 Pedro🐝 Gómez@Jim 🐝 Cody, Dog Appaloosa...? :)20/03/2016 #1 Javier 🐝 beBeeOMG !! :)
José Manuel26/07/2015
José Manuel09/07/2015
Comments09/07/2015 #4 Alexandre SalvianoTop sua foto hein!! Eu postei uma (https://www.bebee.com/post/80924) para o concurso que acaba nesta sexta-feira., Se você achar que minha foto merece, poderia curtir ela no link acimar? São apenas 7 segundos do seu tempo =) Obrigado09/07/2015 #3 Alexandre SalvianoJosé, tudo bom? Estou participando do concurso (BRASIL). Pode curtir a foto do link a seguir? São apenas 5 segundinhos... obrigado https://www.bebee.com/post/80924
Cães~ 100 buzzes
O cão (Canis lupus familiaris1 ), no Brasil também chamado de cachorro, é um mamífero canídeo, subespécie do lobo, e talvez o mais antigo animal domesticado pelo ser humano. Teorias postulam que surgiu do lobo cinzento no continente asiático há mais de 100 000 anos. Ao longo dos séculos, através da domesticação, o ser humano realizou uma seleção artificial dos cães por suas aptidões, características físicas ou tipos de comportamentos. O resultado foi uma grande diversidade de raças caninas, as quais variam em pelagem e tamanho dentro de suas próprias raças, atualmente classificadas em diferentes grupos ou categorias. As designações vira-lata (no Brasil) ou rafeiro (em Portugal) são dadas aos cães sem raça definida ou mestiços descendentes.


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Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 11/6/2014 (1139 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
When the railroad came to Virginia's Roanoke Valley in 1852, an entire nearby town uprooted, moved to the tracks, and renamed itself.
It quickly became the crossroads for the Norfolk and Western Railway, and bustling marketplace. Today, Roanoke is still a centre for transportation and trade, and a gateway to fascinating history, stunning scenery, outdoor recreation, and the biggest star in the world. Literally.
Perched atop Mill Mountain is Roanoke's stellar attraction: the world's largest man-made star. This 30-metre-high structure is made of illuminated steel and concrete, visible at night from nearly 100 kilometres away. It's a longtime landmark for aviators, and earned Roanoke the nickname "Star City of the South."
In the middle of Roanoke is Center in the Square, containing museums, a theatre, rooftop pavilion, and an indoor 6,000-gallon living coral reef aquarium — the largest in the mid-Atlantic. Within it live 250 colourful marine fish, numerous sea creatures, and 150 live coral. It grows and changes over time, meaning no two visits are ever the same.
A downtown walking tour reveals the historic Roanoke City Market, one of the oldest markets in the country. The one-kilometre railwalk is a pathway along an outdoor museum detailing the history of the railroad. The Virginia Museum of Transportation is home to automotive and aviation exhibits, the largest collection of diesel locomotives in the South, and the wonderfully restored steam engine No. 1218.
Just minutes northwest of Roanoke lays the Appalachian Trail, one of the world's most well-known adventure destinations. The trail measures 3,508 kilometres and spans 14 states, traversing crests and valleys of the Appalachian mountain range from Georgia to Maine. While two-to-three million people visit the trail annually, only a handful attempt to "thru-hike" — or travel the entire thing.
One of these thru-hikers is Vince, our guide for a day of hiking to McAfee Knob. This stunning overhang at 954 metres juts out into thin air like a diver's platform, and is one of the most photographed sites on the entire trail. Reaching McAfee Knob from the parking area is a steady climb of 518 metres in just over 6.4 kilometres, and an awesome workout. Most of the gain is in the final third portion, so if the beginning ascent is hard, it only goes up from there. The journey is worth every step, though, and the nearly-panoramic view from the top is simply breathtaking.
You'll find easier hiking for the whole family at Roaring Run Recreational Area in Botetourt County. Go in one direction and come across an historic 19th century iron furnace. In the other direction, the trail skirts cascading rapids, crosses five footbridges, lines canyon walls, and eventually, reaches the picture-perfect Roaring Run Falls, one of the most beautiful, easily-accessible spots I've ever seen.
We got to glimpse more idyllic outdoors during a paddle on the Upper James River Water Trail, the scenic tributary that winds through the valley of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Those same mountains that John Denver sang about.
For an outdoor adventurer, almost heaven indeed.
RoseAnna Schick is an avid traveller who seeks inspiration wherever she goes. Email her at email@example.com


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|from my sketchbook ~ by Jane LaFazio
I just returned from a lovely week at Madeline Island School of the Arts on the shores of Lake Superior in Wisconsin. It's quite beautiful and a perfect location for a real retreat from reality and an immersion in art.
|with my friend Suzanne Myers Otto (who happens to be one of my students)
|The classroom at Madeline Island School of the Arts
|My husband went with me, so it was extra fun!


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As Brian Wilson tours Europe and North America, this fine art boxed set by Brian Wilson and Sir Peter Blake draws its inspiration from the music of Brian's new album, That Lucky Old Sun - a moving tribute to Southern California and a celebration of Brians life and career.
Brian Wilson: 'It's all about capturing the mood of Southern California and the mood of LA in the Fifties and Sixties.'
Bound in rich Italian cloth, the gilded case encloses 12 hand-pulled original prints, with an accompanying fine-bound book signed by both artists.
Related titles
A Day In The Life
Michael Ward
The print and book portfolio containing 24 extremely rare prints of The Beatles taken on February 19, 1963.
Taken By Storm
Storm Thorgerson
A uniquely designed 'set of drawers' packed full of rare and exclusive objects all created by Storm Thorgerson.


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Disclaimer - Yep, they're not mine. Nothing new under the sun, as they say.
Not sure where this story germinated, but it hit me like a bucket of ice water and I knew I had to write it. A one-shot? Or multi-chaptered? Not sure, but for now - it stands alone.
by reinbeauchaser
He's been coming just about every night for the past month. I don't know why he has chosen the building next door to mine, but he has and, well, I'm glad for it. If itnot for my complex standing one story taller than the roof of the neighboring apartment and if I hadn't popped for the extra expense to move into the top-floor rental, I would have been clueless to his existence.
Yet, here I am, fully aware of his being, his presence, his - uniqueness, and now I can't help but justify the extra expense for my 'loft with a view'. Because of him, I will complain no more about the only 'view' it offered originally was that of the neighboring rooftop. It's an old style roof, made up of black tar paper with pea-gravel construction and dirty, chimney-like abutments dotting along the top. With the occasional visit from pigeons - or rats - to break up the monotony, it did little to inspire me. Then, my friend arrived. Up until that moment, my wonderful view had been as exciting to look at as watching dirt.
Since I could ill afford much else and still reside within city limits, I felt I had settled too easily. But know I know I had lucked out with the pseudo high-rise loft. After all, New York is an expensive town to live in. To find any residence that didn't make one a subject to leer at was a bonus. Moreover, I had paid my dues with my last apartment.
I swear, I think all the noisy people in Bronx lived in that building. There was always someone peeping in on someone else through their window - and it was usually me doing the 'entertaining'. Don't try to convince me that voyeurism isn't alive and well in the Big Apple. With my experience, I truly wanted the privacy my 'loft with a view' offered.
And, of course, a month ago my scenery improved dramatically awith my friend's sudden arrival. As his visits became more regular and punctual, he gave me something far more interesting to look at than the errant fowl or rodent and, for that, I am grateful.
Once I realized he was making a habit of visiting the neighboring building, I made sure to find myself seated in my easy chair by my window. Moments before he would arrive, I would settle in with a glass of iced tea in hand, sipping at it leisurely, as I anticipated his appearance. I would sit and wait, hoping to see his approach. The thing is - and it never failed - that in my waiting I would get distracted. I'd only look away for a second, maybe to check the time on the microwave clock, to see if he would be as prompt as his last visit. Still, no matter how briefly I looked away, when I'd glance back - there he was and I would have to still my startled breath to keep from yipping in surprise.
And, his arrival was always so sudden, it was as if he materialized from the air itself. I found it both eerie and amusing that he could do that, too.
It really frustrated me, though, because I wanted to find out how he had managed the ten stories. I wasn't certain about where the fire escape ladder was or where the access door on the neighboring roof would be, so after a while, I began wondering if maybe he lived somewhere in the building below.
In any case, he would stand there for a while, looking out across the city, arms folded across his chest. Well, at least, I think that's what he was doing with them, since I have yet to see what his front looks like. In any case, he always acts oblivious to his surroundings, ignoring the gnats or other annoying pests that might swarm around his head. He didn't seem much interested in peering over the side, either. It was almost as if he pretty much didn't care about the people below as they moved like ants through the big city. Then, sometimes he would sit down on the roughed ground, becoming quiet and contemplative for a while, just like he did a moment ago.
As I think about it, I wonder how he can just sit there on that roof, the pebbles grinding into his rump. It bemuses me and I wonder why he doesn't bring a folding chair with him or a blanket or...or something cushiony.
Well, it's his business, I guess, but after a month of watching him, it became obvious to me that he wasn't the least bit bothered with the irritating surface of the roof. Either he's ignoring it or it doesn't matter to him.
I take another quiet sip of ice tea and think back to the beginning, when I first saw him. That was most definitely an interesting day.
I had been mulling over my manuscript, wondering if my idea was even worth the trouble. I had hit a dead-end, so out of frustration, I fixed my customary comfort beverage - iced tea - and took a seat by my window, in order to collect my thoughts. I noticed the pigeons had taken over the building next door and were milling around, looking for food. What they could find to eat couldn't have been much, since I had yet to see anyone loiter there. In any event, I had had half a mind to open my window and shoo them away.
However, I didn't. I decided that they added a softer contrast to the hard, pebbly surface and I hoped that maybe they might give me some inspiration, too.
That was when I looked away. It was only for a moment, but it was obviously long enough. After glaring at my pile of papers and then at the calendar, musing to myself about my deadline, I returned my gaze to the birds once again. Only, there was something more than just birds on the neighboring roof, now.
I'd have to admit that at first I nearly choked on my tea. Instinctively I wanted to shout in surprise, but for some reason, I didn't. I knew that with the ten or twelve foot distance between the two buildings, I was safe. So, I swallowed my fear and replaced it with curiosity. I figured it had to be a man, a pervert, maybe, or someone trying out a costume. Although Halloween was several months away, I knew of people who planned that far in advance, if only to wow the crowd at whatever party they attended.
Personally, I'm not one for costumes. Far too mature for that, or, at least I try to be. Heh.
In any event, the person lingered for a while, pacing back and forth, before he left. Of course, I logged my experience in my journal, more along the lines of 'little known oddities of NYC'; just to memorialize my passive encounter. However, when this person began making regular visits, my journaling took on a completely new dimension. Every detail I discovered about this visitor, I chronicled. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the information, but - one can never be too careful.
Anyway, in the beginning, I used to call him an 'it', if only because I didn't know what he was. Actually, considering what he looks like, the word 'it' seems as fitting a description as any. I mean, to apply the word 'him' or 'her' to any creature less than human in appearance, might suggest intelligence. To say, 'I saw him at the corner store', or 'I saw her coming up the steps', one might imagine a man or a woman, not a dog, or a cat, or… a turtle, as in the case of my 'friend'.
Moreover, I was amazed to find that this 'it', this 'him', was far more intelligent than any cat or dog - or turtle, could ever hope to be. And I cannot say if he is real or someone in a costume. If it's the latter, it's the best darn costume this side of Hollywood. I could ask him, of course, but because I'm afraid he would leave and never come back again, I don't.
No, I chuckle silently, quite determined to keep myself a secret, he can't know that I'm here, watching him.
And, strange as it may sound, it would grieve me if he left, because I enjoy his visits. Even though he is clueless to me, I really want him to return to the rooftop next door, to feel welcomed. I don't know why, but maybe it's because of the fact that he's different and seems so full of - 'something', so eager for more. I've always had an affinity for people striving to be more than the sum total of who they are, the hard-luck cases that meet life head-on. Maybe there's someone keeping this man-in-a-turtle-suit from reaching whatever potential or promise he aspires? Maybe he's frustrated? Maybe he's like so many in New York, jobless, homeless, directionless. Maybe he's just a man, wearing a costume, something that he can hide in, to keep the world at bay. His entire body language tells me that he's hurting deeply and I want to tell him that it will be all right, to hang tough, to believe.
Still, how can you encourage someone who doesn't know you exist?
Speaking of which, he talks a lot, too, this 'man', who fancies turtle costumes. He talks...but only to himself. I haven't seen anyone else nearby, so I assume he has one of 'those' conversations that we all engage in from time to time. You know, the kind that's more rhetorical, a personal rant of frustration we believe no one else wants to hear.
Or, maybe he has a cell phone, one with a head set. Still, as best as I can tell, since my window is a good fifteen or twenty feet from where he is currently sitting, it's either very, very small and streamlined or - my first assumption is correct and he's only venting out his frustrations.
In either case, I can see that the pigeons congregating there have grown in number. They flew in shortly after he arrived and presently they're doing very good job of listening to him, too. And as I assess the situation, I can see the variety of color in their feathers. It amazes me, though, and my thoughts wander to consider how it's possible for one species to have so many different hues.
Ah, but then my thoughts are interrupted when I notice that he's feeding them. He does this often during his visits, bringing a paper bag filled with bread.
Probably why they like him so much.
Still, he seems to enjoy tossing the fistfuls of crumbs, hesitating after each throw to watch the birds scamper and flutter after the offering. Some taking flight in order to be first to feed and then a sudden spasmodic shudder runs through him and it catches my interest. I hear a low sound of amusement from him.
Did he just chuckle?
It pleases me for a moment, that he would find the birds worthy of his entertainment, or that he would even care for such pests. Consequently, I forget about pigeon feathers and wonder about the nature of him, what drives someone who prefers rooftops to parks, turtle suits to blue jeans and t-shirts? What interests him and why would he come to my neighborhood and to this particular building, in fact?
And please explain to me, why would he feed these messy little pests in the first place? Doesn't he know not to feed pigeons, that it only encourages them? If it weren't for my stronger interest in remaining unseen and unheard, I think I would forgo keeping my presence a secret and yell at him for such stupidity. The city has enough problems with the annoying fowl.
Can yo tell that I'm not very fond of pigeons? They're dirty little birds, leaving evidence of their passing in the most inconsiderate and intrusive way. Yet, this evening, I am far more fascinated that he cares and, most importantly, that they are not the least bit startled with his presence. Everytime he feeds them, it just amazes me. They're not the least bit frightened into flight by the strangeness that is 'him'. They are accepting of him as easily as he is accepting them and, perhaps in a way, he understands them. More so than I would want to, that's for sure!
Still, as I think about that, I realize how much I want to be accepting, too; if given half a chance. For reasons that defy explanation or purpose, he - intrigues me greatly. I want to understand. I want to know who he is.
Then, an utterance of profanities breaks the stillness, but I'm not shocked. No, this one seems to favor the more colorful metaphors of my culture. Yet, his voice immediately quiets soon after, the way one would if they unintentionally spoke too loudly. Undeterred by his inappropriate outburst, he continues to rant, only softer. It's obvious by his body language that he's upset about something, more so than normal. The way his arms and elbows suddenly jut outward, as if in tune with his personal rant. The swagger of his back and head as he sits there on the roof says that someone's ticked him off. And his sudden departure from whatever good mood he was enjoying has caused the birds to fly off, but only for a short ways. They alight a few yards across from him, pecking at the ground, looking for a stray crumb or two; conducting businessng as usual.
Nevertheless, my attention again goes back to my friend. Although I can't make out what he's saying, I still try to listen. In fact, it was during his second or third visit when he spoke loud enough for me to hear him that I knew it was a he. His voice alone was enough, as it told me that this strange one was a him, a male, and a frequently unhappy one at that...especially this evening. Normally he would just stare out over the city, muttering to himself, sometimes offering angry comments to the wind. But this evening? This evening he seems genuinely sad, depressed, despite his obvious anger. Discontent clearly defines his raging tonight.
Minutes go by and my mind wanders a bit. I think back to when I first moved in, eight months ago. I look up at my bare window, naked of any décor. At the time, I didn't feel I needed curtains, not where I didn't have to worry about any neighbors looking in. As it is, I hate curtains, always have. Although I prefer a more Spartan look, allergies are the main reason for not having them. The normal accumulation of dust that curtains attract, bother me like none other.
But, here in New York City, this intrusive metropolis of perverts and opportunist, it's almost mandatory. Where I used to live, I felt forced to use them since I had neighbors living across the alley from my rental. More often than not, I would find someone staring at me. It only took one time to find out that dressing in the living room was NOT an option. Goodness, that was embarrasing.
Consequently, privacy was a major issue, then, as it is now.
After I moved into my 'loft with a view', I found I didn't have that problem anymore. I didn't have neighbors that stared at my one, lone window, hoping for something to distract them from their own miserable lives. I could dress in the living room if I wanted to, or the kitchen, or the...well, I could dress anywhere I wanted to and not worry about giving someone a rush.
Just the same, old habits and instincts run strong. As high up as I was, I still worried about giving a peep show to anyone visiting the neighboring roof. As I said, I had had enough of that with living at the 'lower elevations'. So, presented with a choice, to buy curtains or do something different, I chose different. I've always chosen different. I love different.
Maybe that's why this person in a turtle suit attracts me?
Anyway, before I moved in, I sacrificed a bit of money and had my windows covered with a high-grade reflective film. I can see out, but no one can see in - even with my interior lights on during the deepest darkest part of night. My windows overlooking the building top next door now reflect the outside world, giving the person inside - namely me, enough privacy without the need for curtains. No matter the time of day, it appears as dark and as vacant as it had been during the six years before I leased it.
And, right now, I'm glad for that, because my friend next door might know this neighborhood well enough to tell what buildings are occupied and which ones aren't. I am certain that any light coming from my windows would attract his interest and then he would have to find some other place to contemplate his life.
As I said, I like him here. I feel protective of his 'space'. I feel - privileged. So why would I want to scare him away?
As I stare out the window and continue watching him, I am mindful of how much I have changed. When I first moved here, I kept the windows of my apartment closed and locked, a force of habit based on my previous address. It took some time before I felt the remotest of comfort in opening them, too, and even leaving them that way for a while took more resolve. In fact, it's only been recently that I've been doing that. Usually in the early mornings, though, to allow the coolness of the receding night to fill my apartment, before I close up for the day.
However, this afternoon, I had become distracted with my manuscript. My writer's block had dissipated and I was finally on a roll. Consequently, I had forgotten about the windows and left them opened. It was minutes before his punctual arrival when I had realized my mistake. So, rather than rush around closing them and risking making any unnecessary noise, just incase he was close by, I turned off my interior lights instead, to minimize the obvious flaw in the scenery.
As it turned out, I had opened my window a scant four inches and where I am presently sitting, I can feel the early evening breeze as it plays through. Again, had I succumbed to habit and installed curtains, I was certain the flapping and flailing of the material would have alerted my friend to my presence. Once again, I cheered to myself the wisdom of not installing them, but I could only hope that the opened window will go unnoticed just the same.
So far, he has kept to his own habits. The man in the turtle suit hasn't even looked my way.
As the late afternoon wanes on, the shadows are growing. Where my side of the complex faces northeast and as the rest of my building blocks out the sun's rays, the rooftop next door is slowing plunging into shadows. It might help to hide my presence a little better, but I know it won't be long before my friend is swallowed up, as well. The cacophony of city noise outside seems to grow louder, too, managing to find its way in, and with it, my 'friend's' newly raised voice.
I now hear him quite easily.
"I - Hate - My - Life."
He announces this almost as if saying an expletive. Yet, the angry way in which he said it, his tone pricks at my heart.
Why would he hate his life, I ask silently. Unless…
Before I can consider that question, though, before I can entertain the next amazing thought, he moves a little, adjusting his position slightly. Suddenly I am mesmerized anew. Where every other night before I saw only a quarter of his front, with most of his back turned towards me, he is now sitting in full - perfect - profile.
I am enthralled!
Usually, I've seen only the back of his head, or at most, a partial side of his face, with the top part of his head wrapped in some sort of cloth, like a bandanna. Tonight, he isn't wearing it and I really don't know why he would use one in the first place. Still, I think it's odd that it's missing. It has become part of who he is to me.
Suddenly, as he leans against the brick abutment of a chimney and adjusts his position even more, he finally and for the first time, shows his face.
I'm excited beyond description, now, and I know my eyes are wider than they have ever been. It is so hard to remain still and unmoving. I can feel the strain in my back and shoulders because I have been sitting in one position for so long. Yet, I dare - not - move, yet I cannot help but feel excited. I feel my heart thump madly against my chest, as I continue staring at the amazing scene outside.
What happens next, though, truly surprises me. As he allows his back to lean against the hard surface of a flue, as he relaxes against its roughed brick, I hear a 'chang', as if the shell on his back is real.
It couldn't be real, could it?
Before I can even consider that thought, the outline of his facial features distracts me even more, and so the memory of the noise fades away, forgotten.
Is he wearing a mask? His face looks - so real? But how? I want to chuckle in amusement, but I don't because my window is open and he would hear me. Then, all he'd have to do to see the evidence of my presence would be to look ever so slightly my way. Therefore, any noise coming from my apartment would be too much.
Still, I think about his face, his mask. Yes, he is definitely wearing a mask, he must be. Aside from the fact that he's green and leathery, I see the broad ridges above his eyes, hard ridges, not of foam, or papier-mâché'. Inhuman in shape, maybe, yet nevertheless they are deep-seated and large, very large - and expressive!
It can't be a mask; he must be real…and here I stop my train of thought, because to seriously consider that this man in a turtle suit is real - seems impossible.
He can't be, though, and I fight with this thought, my common sense telling me how preposterous it is. Then I notice his broad cheeks and the way the muscles in his jaw tense and relaxe, as if he's grinding his teeth in frustration. Where the side of his face tapers slightly to his protruding muzzle, I take note of that.
And it is indeed a muzzle, not a nose, but a muzzle! It is a turtle's muzzle, or beak, but slightly softened, not nearly as sharp along the front as one would expect. He mumbles and says something and his mouth forms the words. I may not be able to hear everything, but I can tell he's speaking and no mask I have ever seen or heard of can mimic the movement of lips and enunciated speech. Still, as he rants, despite his observer's refusal to believe, despite my inner battle to accept what I am seeing, it's easy to see that he is definitely not a happy camper tonight.
The more I look and analyze him, though, I can see tears as they trickle down his face. Suddenly, my preoccupation to the impossibility of his existence changes to one of compassion.
My heart swells with concerned interest.
I watch as his silver trails of sadness reflect the waning late afternoon sun. I can just imagine the celestial orb hovering on the other side of my building, a second above the horizon of the cityscape, as one last finger of light grasps at the city in a desperate bid to stay aloft. I know it won't be long before my friend will be in shadow, lost to me until his next visit. So, I try to capture this moment, committing to memory what I had just witnessed, and then, I see him shudder. Unexpectedly, I hear a single sob break from between his lips, disturbing the white noise that is New York City. Almost immediately and in response, he draws his legs up hard against him, knees bent, heels tucked in tight. As he wraps his arms around his legs, he rests his forehead on top his knees. He then takes a deep, shaky breath before speaking again, almost whispering his apparent unhappiness. Thankfully, for whatever reason, a momentary hush falls across my neighborhood, an unusual nanosecond of silence, and in that moment, I can hear him quite clearly.
"They…they just…don't understand, none of 'm do," and he takes another deep, wracking breath.
He sounds so mournful and hopeless. I want to hug him. He also sounds very Brooklyn, but I remain perfectly still, unmoving. I hurt, though, the strain is becoming quite a burden, but I refuse to move.
Who are 'they', I wonder to myself, and what don't they understand? Is he talking about people - like me - or other people - like - him?
Suddenly, he moves, adjusting himself again, and he turns slightly in my direction. Fortunately, he's more interested in repositioning himself than in looking up.
I realize then that, if he even so much as glances at my building, he will see my partly opened window. Fearing discovery, I sustain my rigid posture more determindely, terrified of moving and risking discovery. Of course, I chastise myself for opening my window in the first place. What was I thinking? What gall I had, to believe I could do that, would do that, knowing that he was as regular as clockwork. So what if I wanted to cool my apartment. If he had chosen this place specifically and he believed my loft was still vacant, then his coming here was for solitude - and not to be a source of entertainment for me!
And, for a moment, I remember my own reasons for choosing to live where I do.
I can't help but feel chastized and shamed.
Just the same, not only do I realize how stupid I was for opening my window in the first place, I glare at my hand, as if it had leprosy. Moments before he had gone profile, I had placed it on the windowsill. It was an absentminded act and nothing more. Maybe it was when he turned profile? I know I was surprised and it was quite possible I had done it then. Yet, I also knew that it was the wrong thing to do, regardless. Now, any movement at all from me would certanly give me away. In fact, his peripheral vision alone might catch my presence, that is, f he glanced at just the right angle. Even a flick of my little finger would betray me and so - as painful as it is now becoming for me, as tired as my back is currently feeling - I remain motionless a little longer.
Minutes fly by and we both continue to sit at our respective spots and positions, one unaware of the other. I even try holding my breath, afraid the movement of breathing would startle him. It was the first time I had seen so much of him - and I wanted more!
I need more. He has become my drug, my - addiction!
As he drags an arm across his face to wipe away his tears, I continue to watch. My previous bout of shame is gone and I reaquaint myself with a greedy need to see more. I watch him take one hand and rub at his forehead, before reaching down to procure something from his belt. I had noticed he wore a belt almost from the beginning when he first started coming to the building, but I never understood what he used it for. It's not as if he's wearing pants. Nevertheless, the belt goes all the way around him, even his shell, and then it either ties or buckles in front. I'm not really sure. I do know that one side of him is called a carapace, the other a plastron…the parts of a turtle.
Thank you Mr. Evans for force-feeding me biology. I smile, remembering how much I hated that class, yet it seems I've retained something from the elderly man's teachings.
Nevertheless, the man on the roof definitely seems to be a 'turtle', real or fake, it doesn't matter. Weirder still, not only does he wear a belt, but he even sports elbow and kneepads. Why? I don't know, but maybe it's to avoid injuring the joints there? Aside from his belt, I notice he still sports his sharp and pointy three-pronged fork, hooked to one side. I know there's another one on the opposite side yet I wonder what he uses them for.
In any event, it is the way that he moves which fascinates me the most. It is - so fluidic, so unencumbered, the way his musculature bulges and stretches under his 'skin'. Is he real? Or, is he just someone in a form-fitting costume?
I had often asked myself this question since first sighting him, and never came to an absolute conclusion. If he is a turtle, then he is the most fantastic, amazing turtle I have ever seen.
If not, then he might very well be a pervert in a costume.
Still, before this evening, I had decided that I wanted him to be real. The idea of a pervert in a turtle costume was just wrong and on too many levels. Then again, he could be a real turtle and a pervert, too. I dismiss that thought entirely, though. I think the tabloids would have had something about a 'peeping turtle' before now.
As I watch the small movement of his arm, he takes from his belt a wad of material and then shakes it out.
His bandanna!
So that's what happened to it.
I smile and feel reassured that all is well with my little world on the neighboring rooftop. I watch as he ties his bandanna around his face the way he always wears it. Tugging the knot at the back of his head, he tightens it, to ensure that it will stay put. He then flips the long vibrantly hued tails over his near shoulder and then stands up. Stretching his arms high above his head and taking in a deep, cleansing breath, he begins to look around. Only, instead of a casual observance of his world, he seems concerned, now, the way one is when they've been lost in thought and suddenly realize where they are. It was then when he settles his attention on my window!
I suck in a silent breath, because in that same moment, I now know, beyond any doubt, that he is real. He is a turtle! He is a walking, talking, mask-wearing, fork-wielding, terrapin. I want to laugh aloud at the absurdity and wonder of it all, but I don't, I hold my tongue.
However, I wish my hand had taken that same cue. In that second that he looks in my direction, the moment his face narrows in concentration, he sees me. In response, my hand flinches in surprise. I didn't mean to do it, of course, it was quite instinctive, a reaction of my shock and bemusement.
Nevertheless, it doesn't matter, now, because quicker than the beat of my heart...he is gone! Just like that, as if he had taken wing. He disappers and I'm left wondering if had even been there at all.
I stood there, squinting at the scene outside through my window, watching the pigeons fly off, one at a time, wondering to myself if it had been a dream. Only the fleeting glimpse of scarlet remains in my mind's eye, an after image of his bandanna tails. It makes me want to weep, because now I know he will never return, never grace the rooftop next door again; never bestow me the gift of his unique and beautiful presence. I feel despair so thick, I am certain it will suffocate me.
Despondent, I leave my half-finished iced tea on the kitchen counter and retire to my bedroom to cry myself to sleep. I have never been so disappointed in my life. I know my days will now feel empty because he is gone, probably never to return. The roof will return to its ugly state of pebbles and stained chimney flues, with pigeons decorating the area in the only way they know how.
Six months pass without an interruption. It's been half a year since that last, fateful meeting and I was right, he never did return. Am I disappointed? Yes, I am, very much so. Would I want him to risk discovery - by me? Yes, of course. I would never hurt him. But, to want this at the risk of others discovering him, I'll accept his departure with a small satisfaction that at least I didn't go to the tabloids and tell the whole world about my turtle-man. At least I didn't shoo him away as I've done so many times to the birds he seemed to enjoy feeding.
Of course, it didn't stop me from journaling my experiences. I am a writer, after all. I'm not sure what I'll do with my musings, but for now, they are a reminder that something wonderful visited me for a short time.
As the days march on, I have resigned myself to watching the multicolored birds. They congregate right where 'he' stood, so many months before, drawn to the very spot where some kind soul had enough heart to feed them. Ironically, the flock of ungrateful and messy birds has become the only distraction for me these days. Like me, it seems they can't forget him, either.
I still don't like pigeons, never will, but - for a time, I will enjoy them, even appreciate them. Maybe I'll start feeding them, knowing that they were a privileged lot, a lucky few, who were allowed to stand close to something special, something I could only hope and pray will return.
I know he won't, though, he can't, he's far too precious in rarity to take the chance of someone like me seeing him. He was real, I am sure of it, an upright, walking AND talking turtle…a turtle who wore a red and carried an overstated fork - for protection maybe?
Yes, he would have to have some way of protecting himself. From what I learned in Mr. Evans biology class, other than the snapping turtle, most terrapins are benign, pleasant creatures.
In either event, it is obvious to me my friend had been unhappy and now, maybe more so, because I took away his privacy, his special spot in the city of New York. Someone had seen him. Someone was intrusive, opportunistic, and selfish, and I should have known better, since I did to him what so many others had done to me.
I am obviously not much different from anyone else living in the Big Apple, that's for sure and, now, my loft with a view, my expensive New York apartment, doesn't seem so special anymore.


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Description: C&T Publishing Pixel Play Book by Emily Cier. 15 Quilt Projects for Kids, Family & Home. Just in case you didn't know, a pixel is a small bit of information that when combined with others makes up a bigger picture. This book is all about taking larger images and breaking them down into smaller bits and pieces of solid color. Designs include pirate maps, graphic butterflies, road maps, a little girl with an umbrella in the rain, a close-up of a zinnia flower, and more. Perhaps this book will even challenge you into pixelating some of your images and photographs and turning them into quilts. 80 pages in a soft cover. ISBN: 978-1-60705-358-3.
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pimp, disclosed
a daddy & his daughter explore the art of the self portrait
by Ryan Patrick Ward
About the Book
This might be the best photo book on the planet that was made 100% from a pimp. Most pimps are dirty, unethical, dastardly individuals. Have you noticed though that the term itself has slowly made it's way into a term of endearment? Well you can thank me for that.
Pimp photos, the rocking babe, and more await you in these pages. It's mostly self portraits, with many containing my sidekick, the one who made people care about me - my daughter Chloe. If it wasn't for her, I would probably just be another procurer.
I'd like to also personally thank all the assholes on flickr and equally all the awesome people on flickr for making my photography to life. For a minute I thought I was a rockstar. Then the babe grew up and my secret weapon went with it. Oh well. ;)
Features & Details
- Category Arts & Photography
Standard Landscape, 10×8 in, 25×20 cm
54 Pages
- Publish Date May 26, 2011
- Language English
- Tags ryan patrick ward, ryan ward, self portraits, pimp, pimpdisclosure, pimpexposure, babe, chloe, ryan, photography, fedora, flickr, daughter, father, daddy, selfie
About the Creator
I like to think of myself as being at the tail end of the poles with most of the things I have found myself getting wrapped around in my life. I enjoy being loved and hated with no middle opinion. It's that grey area I try really hard to avoid. I haven't been bored since 1999 because you know what they say: only boring people get bored. Most importantly though I am a pimp. Not the MTV pimp. Not the Snoop Doggy Dogg hip-hop glorified pimp. Not even the procurer found working the streets. I'm a new brand of pimp. Yes folks we've redefined this well traveled word one more time. And this time it's got a fedora, a kid, and a camera with a tripod in tow. Thank you for your support.
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Bad Lip Reading
October 18, 2011 by staff
Bad Lip Reading, It was only a matter of time before the bad lip-reading their way through the year 2012? S the favorite Republican candidates, Mitt Romney.
Because Romney leaves usually very soft spoken (unless you are trying to be funny or look poor) lip treatment is extremely effective misreading, especially because the voice sounds strong and dubbed sound bits are marked with bursts of nervous laughter sounds fake.
Instead of just dubbing in a speech or a campaign ad as they did with Michele Bachmann, BLR is Romney on the road with clips of him walking in the crowded convenience stores, shaking hands with fans and pose for photographs At the same time saying nonsense like "stepson happy."
Or better: "I am a gremlin. I'm going to the party. And I want all things from the fridge."
Please feel free to send if you have any questions regarding this post , you can contact on
Disclaimer: The views expressed on this site are that of the authors and not necessarily that of U.S.S.POST.


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The Nationals and Cardinals are just underway from Nationals Park, with Ryan Zimmerman back at his familiar spot at third base. Talk about the game right here - and if you've got thoughts or questions about the game or the team, I'll respond to you in the comments section.
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Phillies, Mets rained out for second straight dayApr 16, 2007 - 9:16 PM PHILADELPHIA (Ticker) -- The night game between the New York Mets and Philadelphia Phillies was postponed by bad weather.
The game has been rescheduled as part of a day-night doubleheader June 29. The rescheduled game will be at 1:05 p.m. EDT and the regularly scheduled game will be at 7:05 p.m.
Both teams were washed out for the second straight day as cold weather, rain and snow continues to wreak havoc with baseball's schedule.
Sunday's game here between the Phillies and Houston Astros was rained out and has been rescheduled for April 23 at 7:05 p.m. Also, Sunday's contest between the Mets and Washington Nationals in New York was rained out and has not been added to the calendar.
No one has shouted yet.
Be the first!
Be the first!
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The Aliens are the main antagonists of the National Geographic mockumentary When Aliens Attack, which is speculation about what would happen if aliens invaded Earth.
The Aliens are represented by machines that come in five forms: robots, drones, harvesters, carriers, and the mothership. The robots are approximately three stories high and resemble a barrel on digitigrade legs. A green "eye" on the barrel serves as its main weapon, and it has a smaller gun below the "barrel." The drone is about the same size, but instead of legs, it has wings shaped like scythe blades. The harvester is a roughly cylindrical craft ranging from 3-10 stories in height; the bottom is entirely occupied by a tractor beam. The carrier is a triangular craft perhaps half a mile across, and serves as a launch base for other aliens. The mothership is a 50+-mile sphere with several "fins" sticking out the back and a series of rods in a depression at the top. These rods serve as docks from which carriers are deployed.
From what is seen, Alien society is centered on the harvesting of chlorophyll and protein from planets. The Aliens are seemingly led by the Mothership.
All Aliens, except for the carriers, are armed in some respect. The robot has a large "eye" that fires a green orb, most likely made of plasma, and has a small gun that fires a smaller plasma orb. The drone has a similar plasma cannon, but does not have a gun. The harvester uses its tractor beam to harvest plant and animal life, whereupon the chlorophyll and protein are extracted. The mothership has a massive EMP generator, and may have other weapons.
The Aliens are machines and do not feed. However, harvesters collect chlorophyll and protein as fuel for the Aliens, presumably using some for themselves and bringing it back to the carrier, which in turn uses some of that fuel for itself, distributes some more for the robots and drones, and finally takes the rest to the mothership when the invasion ends.
The homeworld of the Aliens is unknown and abandoned. For all intents and purposes the mothership is their homeworld.
The Aliens are extremely durable and/or agile. A drone was able to effortlessly dodge missiles from a pair of F-18's before destroying the planes with similar ease, and the carrier above Washington D.C. survived unscathed after being hit by eight nuclear warheads with a total strength of 1.5 megatons (which is because it spends extended periods in space being battered by space dust and cosmic rays). The only external weapon shown to harm an Alien was a rail gun used to shoot a robot at a range of 100-200 feet. They are, however, much weaker on the inside, as a primary tactic of the human rebels was to "feed" the harvesters bombs. Even the carriers are vulnerable in this regard, as several strategically placed bombs were able to cripple them.


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If the USA is going to win the World Cup they will be going up against the odds.
Bodog.com has made the team a 33-1 long shot to win the event.
Ghana, the United States' next opponent, is 40-1.
The United States is 6-5 to get to the second round, 5-2 for the quarterfinals, 7-2 for the semifinals and 14-1 to lose in the title game.
Favorites to win it all: Argentina, 4-1; Brazil, 9-2; Spain, 5-1; Netherlands, 13-2 and Germany, 10-1.
Against Ghana, Landon Donovan and Jozy Altidore are 13-2 to score the first goal with Clint Dempsey at 7-1. Odds are 5-2 that there will be a red card in the game.
Reid Cherner has been with USA TODAY since 1982 and written Game On! since March 2008.
He has covered everything from high schools to horse racing to the college and the pros. The only thing he likes more than his own voice is the sound of readers telling him when he's right and wrong.
Michael Hiestand has covered sports media and marketing for USA TODAY, tackling the sports biz ranging from what's behind mega-events such as the Olympics and Super Bowl to the sometimes-hidden numbers behind the sports world's bottom line.


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Motown, 70's Funk, Rock and Roll or Today's Pop Hits!
Throwing it back to your favorite party experience!
Check out our extensive song list. We play what your crowd wants to hear. We get the party started and we keep it going.
ThrowBack Rocks!
This is how we do it! Live video of
the ThrowBack Experience in action.
The ThrowBack Experience
is a wedding reception band in Atlanta that brings you soulful Motown sounds and the sounds of today!
ThrowBack Experience.....Musical Entertainment
Who are we?
The Throwback Experience is a professional wedding reception band from Atlanta, Ga. We are that bridge that enables people of all ages to party together. We are a cover band that mixes the hot songs of today with the classics everyone loves. We offer Mardi-Gras and holiday themed parties and we bring back the fun of your favorite musical decades like the 60s and 70s. We are the Southeast's most dedicated party band and we can change your social gathering into an event your guests will talk about for years to come. The band can be a part of your grand affair as an eleven piece unit including a DJ or make an intimate gathering really rock with a five piece unit for smaller rooms and smaller budgets. We offer videography, photography, and ceremony music if you're getting married at the reception site. Bundle and save! We customize the group to accommodate your venue size, budget and theme.
Come and enjoy a musical journey at your event. The sounds of Motown, classic soul music, and the explosion called disco are all apart of our repertoire! We love classic rock and roll, such as Journey, Bon Jovi, and Bob Segar just to name a few. The song selection is just one piece that makes this group rock. The experience can also include costume changes or formal attire for elegant events. The last ingredient is talent. Our members are all talented and trained professional musicians who have toured all over the world, bringing joy to thousands. We love what we do. Talent and dedication are the ingredients that make our shows amazing. Check us out for a party that your friends will talk about for years to come.


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Jonas Mekas
In the Mirror of Maya Deren
Director Martina Kudlacek gives motion picture pioneer Maya Deren her just due in this fascinating documentary, establishing her superlative contributions to film editing, cinematography and art. In the 1940s, dancer-writer Deren made her mark in the film world with her groundbreaking avant-garde movies. This biographical portrait is a must-see for film buffs looking to expand their cinematic knowledge.


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£215,000 Fixed price
* Charming Detached Cottage in a Sought After Village
* Extended to Form a Superb Open Plan Kitchen + Garden/Dining Room
* 3 Bedrooms with Master En-Suite
* Lovely Cosy Lounge
* Family Bathroom with Underfloor Heating
* Gas Central Heating + Double Glazing
* Private Gardens
* Close to Amenities
* Excellent Condition Throughout
* Viewing Essential To Appreciate
A wonderful detached cottage located within the perennially popular village of Edzell. The property has been extended to the rear to produce the most wonderful open plan kitchen with dining area/garden room, taking full advantage of the outlook and natural light. There are also 3 bedrooms (master en-suite), lounge and family bathroom with underfloor heating. There is gas central heating with hive control and double glazing. The quality of finish and overall condition, along with the lovely location make this a very special property indeed. EPC Rating = Band C. DIMENSIONS (metres): Lounge: 4.57 x 3.65, Open Plan Kitchen/Dining: 7.52 x 4.4, Bedroom: 2.62 x 3.11, Bedroom: 4.22 x 2.85, Bedroom: 4.22 x 2.63, Bathroom: 2.62 x 1.46.Location
The popular village of Edzell is a small attractive community which offers a selection of shops, restaurants, post office, medical centre, bank and primary school. Social activities nearby include: salmon fishing, grouse shooting, listed walks and a bowling club. Secondary education is at Mearns Academy, Laurencekirk and also Brechin High School.Our View
This fantastic cottage benefits from an amazing kitchen/dining/garden room. Offering a superb quality of accommodation and finish throughout, viewing is a must!IMPORTANT NOTE TO PURCHASERS:
We endeavour to make our sales particulars accurate and reliable, however, they do not constitute or form part of an offer or any contract and none is to be relied upon as statements of representation or fact. The services, systems and appliances listed in this specification have not been tested by us and no guarantee as to their operating ability or efficiency is given. All measurements have been taken as a guide to prospective buyers only, and are not precise. Floor plans where included are not to scale and accuracy is not guaranteed. If you require clarification or further information on any points, please contact us, especially if you are travelling some distance to view. Fixtures and fittings other than those mentioned are to be agreed with the seller.
This house description is based upon information supplied by the owner, or on behalf of the owner. These property particulars are produced in good faith and do not constitute or form part of any contract. s1homes do not take any responsibility for the accuracy of the information contained in this document.
If a property value displays '0', don't worry it just means no properties have been sold in that area during that time.
Sold house price data is supplied to us by the Registers of Scotland, a government department responsible for compiling and maintaining property registers, every month. There can be a delay of up to 3 months from when a property is sold to being recorded with Registers of Scotland. We provide house price data for your information only, we do not accept any liability for any errors. If you have noticed any incorrect information, please contact Registers of Scotland.


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INTERNET, News
Question: Finally, when it comes to the news you got online about [your main news topic] in the past two hours, did you do any of the following with that news? Spoke with someone about the news you got, either in person or over the phone; searched for additional stories or information about the news you got; posted, shared, or commented on an article on a social networking site, such as Facebook or Twitter; sent an article to someone by email or text message; bookmarked it or saved it in some way; or commented on a news organization's webpage.
Source: Pew Research Center
Date: Feb. 9, 2017
Universe: Country: United States
Method: online
Sample Size: 2004
View Question


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Tue 26th Feb 2013 7:00pmOCEAN101CLOUD9 SURF RESORT's Cloud 9 Surf Report
Again today everything was extremely close weather prediction guru Bobby and magicseaweeds estimate.Wind abaited early in the day,it was even a light offshore at first light then became a medium strength onshore for the majority of the day.Swell actually rose a small amount today also back to 6 ft.Crowd again to my knowledge was zero also.Synopsis: Easterlies affecting the eastern section of the country. Forecast: The whole country will be partly cloudy with isolated rainshowers or thunderstorms particularly over Eastern Visayas and the regions of CARAGA and Davao. Moderate to strong winds blowing from the east to southeast will prevail over Northern Luzon and coming from the northeast over the rest of the country. The coastal waters throughout the archipelago will be moderate to rough. (in Filipino)
View the Cloud 9 Surf Report and Forecast. OCEAN101CLOUD9 SURF RESORT's Reports have received a total of 506789 views.
This report has received 325 views since 26/2/13.


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Angel Smalls – No Hesitation
January 23rd, 2016
Lusty coed Angel Smalls stares at herself in the mirror as she tries to decide what to wear. Starting with a lacy thong and matching bra, she slips a dress with a skirt so short it barely covers her ass over her head. The finishing touch is a pair of heels that add inches to...
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Theodore Sturgeon was a prominent science fiction author, whose particular style of writing has been called 'Humanist' by many of his peers.
Various works Edit
Sturgeon's works have been collected in a series of anthologies, such as 'A Saucer of Loneliness', 'The Nail and the Oracle', and 'And Now, the News'. Some of his more memorable stories are:
And Now, the News-- A story about a man who reads the news, which soon turns him into an obsessed man, with every story dragging him farther down. At the end of the story, the man states 'damn human foolishness diminishes me...and so, i'm going to diminish it right back.' The ending to the story has him 'Diminishing mankind back', by cutting down people until he is stopped.
A Saucer of Loneliness--A story for anyone who finds themselves alone in the world, with the message that none of us are truly alone.
Amok Time-- Spock has gone nuts! One of the two Star Trek screenplays done by Sturgeon.
More than Human-- Mutants who can blend their powers together, and soon blend their minds. One of his definitive novels, as well as an obvious predecessor to Spider Robinson's StarDancer Series.
Some Of Your Blood-- A truely creepy vampire story, now practically impossible to find.
Adapted from a deleted RationalWiki article


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How to Adapt your Glidecam to fit with your Steadycam Vest
You have a great Glidecam and a Merlin vest fit for Steadycam... now what? You can easily adapt your two pieces of equipment to help them sync up. All you need is a few pieces of extra hardware to make it work.


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That night came fairly quickly. Around 11:00pm Wanda finally got Timmy alseep. Timmy was so worried about Anti-cosmo and Anti-Wanda that he could not sleep although he did have a small boy matabalism.
Wanda poofed into the fish boll to realise that Cosmo was already in bed. She got dressed into her night gown and made herself comftable in bed whilst reading a book. Cosmo on the other hand was not comftable, he may of seemed alseep but he wasn't.
"Wanda?", Spoke Cosmo softly, sitting up and looking at Wanda.
Wanda looked confusingly at Cosmo and put down her book.
"Yes?", she asked puzzled.
"If I knew that soemthing wasn't right and I had know idea what was wrong, what should I do?"


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Jennifer McComb
Necessary Parties
Fifteen-year-old Chris Mills (Mark-Paul Gosselaar) isn't too happy with his divorcing parents. In fact, he doesn't want them to split at all, so he hires car repair shop owner -- and former attorney -- Archie Corelli (Adam Arkin, who co-wrote the script) to run interference for him and put a stop to the proceedings. It's a match made in heaven because Chris and Archie both have a deep desire to see the right thing done. Gwen Arner directs.


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Indoor Football League
December 30, 2011 by staff
Indoor Football League, Terrell Owens might finally have a contract. Owens, who has tried in vain to hook on with an NFL team, reportedly was offered a deal to play for the Allen Wranglers of the Indoor Football League, with a salary between $250,000 to $500,000 and an ownership stake in the suburban Dallas team.
"We're very close," said Wranglers general manager Drew Pearson, a former Cowboys receiving star. "Jon Frankel, our owner, has been working on this for quite some time now. When he started, he felt there was maybe about a zero percent chance he could get it done, but through his persistent efforts and really wanting to make this happen, he has been able to make contact with their people. Now it's in a stage where he thinks it's at the point where it's about 70 percent done and close to being finalized, so we'll see how it shakes out from this point."
Owens, 38, had 72 catches for 983 yards and nine touchdown for the Bengals last season but is recovering from knee surgery for an offseason injury.
"There's no question he can play," Pearson said. "I think right now he's probably better than over half the receivers in the NFL. You see as the season is shaking out all the injuries at the wide receiver position and they're signing guys off practice squads … but no one took a chance on Terrell Owens. A lot of it has to do with his past history, his attitude."
Please feel free to send if you have any questions regarding this post , you can contact on
Disclaimer: The views expressed on this site are that of the authors and not necessarily that of U.S.S.POST.


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Dan Deacon: Opal Toad Segment
on 03 January 2017
Off a forthcoming experimental music compilation, I Said No Doctors!, from NYC-based music label Dymaxion Groove, musician Dan Deacon's "Opal Toad Segment" conveys a different sort of chaotic charm than we've come to expect from the mastermind. Here, a vibrant tinkling—of "MIDI-triggered pinpoint notes from an acoustic grand piano"—rises and falls with a binaural boldness. It's quite beautiful and entirely out of the ordinary.
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If you haven't yet invested in I Savings Bonds, this is the time.
If you haven't yet invested in I Savings Bonds, this is the time.
At the May 1 interest-rate setting, new I Savings Bonds were set to yield 1.20 percent plus the rate of inflation. That rate, calculated from September 2004 to March 2005, was 3.58 percent, bringing the annualized yield to a 4.80 percent rate over the next six-month period, according to the Bureau of the Public Debt.
After that, the yield will be reset every six months based on the fixed real return of 1.2 percent plus the new trailing inflation rate. To put that 4.80 percent yield in perspective, Bloomberg.com tells us the yield on 30-year Treasuries is only 4.51 percent. It's 4.19 percent on 10-year Treasuries and 3.88 percent on five-year Treasuries.
While we can hold I Savings Bonds for as long as 30 years with interest tax deferred, we can't redeem them before five years without a penalty of three months' interest. The long-term yield may be uncertain, but these securities currently offer more yield with less risk.
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Junk-bond funds are one of the few investments that provide a higher yield than I Savings Bonds — they provide an average yield of 5.79 percent. But you have to accept high interest-rate risk, credit risk and liquidity risk.
If interest rates rise, the market value of bonds in mutual-fund portfolios will decline. If you buy an I Savings Bond, the worst that can happen is that you can take a penalty of three months' interest if you redeem the bond before five years. After five years, you can redeem it with no penalty.
History makes these bonds look good as well. According to Ibbotson Associates, the Chicago firm that tracks historical asset returns, Treasury bills provided a real, after-inflation return of 0.7 percent a year from 1926 through 2004. The current return on I Savings Bonds is 1.2 percent, and it's certain.
Intermediate government bonds provided a real return of about 2.4 percent through the same period, but whether you actually got the real return depended on when you were investing.
T-bills, for instance, provided a real return of 2.5 percent through the 1930s — largely because of deflation and the Great Depression. Indeed, in 1938, 1939 and 1940, T-bills provided no yield.
T-bills provided a real return of 3.8 percent in the '80s as then-Fed Chairman Paul Volcker worked to end inflation. They brought a real return of 2 percent through the '90s for the same reason.
But if you had invested in Treasury bills in the 1940s, the 1950s, the 1960s or the 1970s, your real return would have been negative each decade. Real returns on intermediate-term government bonds were negative in 25 of the same 40 years.
If you think we are heading for a major depression and deflation, I Savings Bonds aren't a good buy.
But if you think we are heading for renewed (or just continued) inflation, I Savings Bonds are the best game in town.
History tells us the odds favor inflation.
Questions about personal finance and investments may be sent to Scott Burns at The Dallas Morning News, P.O. Box 655237, Dallas, TX 75265; by fax at 214-977-8776; or by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.com. Questions of general interest will be answered in future columns.


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Soma Bay Vacation Packages
Cairo, the country's capital, is situated 280 miles (451 kilometers) northwest of Soma Bay.
Don't limit yourself to Soma Bay, because Red Sea Coast has been blessed with a wealth of man-made and natural attractions just waiting to be explored. Hurghada, 30 miles (48 kilometers) to the south, and El Gouna, 40 miles (64 kilometers) to the southeast of Soma Bay are worth a visit too.
Visitors to Red Sea Coast should spend time exploring the area's open-air museums and open-air exhibits. If the rain clouds roll in, don't panic, Red Sea Coast is home to some terrific history museums and nature museums, that will keep you and your family happily occupied.
If your preference is to slow down while you are on vacation, Red Sea Coast has some great relaxing activities for you, such as beach combing and shore fishing. There are loads of ways for thrill seekers to get active in the wide open spaces in and around Soma Bay. Caving and hiking are just two popular ways thrill seekers here can get their thrills.
Much of Red Sea Coast celebrates Revolution Day on the 23rd of July, so be prepared for changes to opening hours and transport schedules.
If you plan on traveling by air, keep in mind that the nearest major airport is Hurghada International Airport, 25 miles (40 kilometers) to the northwest of Soma Bay.


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Thailand's adoption of a new constitution in 1997 was meant to advance far-reaching reforms in the country's democratic development. A decade later, it is clear that these constitutional reforms failed. The Constitution unintentionally consolidated Prime Minister Thaksin's grip on power and indirectly precipitated the conditions for the 2006 coup. This article argues that the drafters' search for a more stable democratic government helped produce an electoral authoritarian regime that triggered the military to intervene.
- ©© 2008 by The Regents of the University of California.
Errata: In the September/October 2016 issue (volume 56 number 5, pages 836 and 849), there was a technical printing error in Figures 1b and 2 of the article by Ajay Raina that resulted in a loss of data on the graphs. This online article contains the restored figures in their original, correct state. The error is regretted.


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