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- Doing Linux Backups Right: Time Drive 0.3
- OLPC Moves to ARMBased, Paper-Thin Netbook
- R1Soft Releases Linux Hot Copy (HCP) 3.3.1 Beta
- Elastra Expands PHP 5.1.6 Support
- CA Encryption Key Manager Runs on Linux
- Ubuntu Powers Dell's Tiny Multimedia Powerhouse
- Skype to Open Source Its Linux Client
- Use Open Source Campware for a Free Press
- Turnkey Linux New Appliances and Amazon EC2
- Freescale Android Development Platform
- Red Hat Virtualization for Servers
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Gnome is Celebrating it's 20th Birthday
More than 33 releases since the first release of Gnome.
SQL Server Comes to RHEL; OpenShift Comes to Azure
Microsoft and Red Hat expand their partnership.
LibreOffice 5.4 Released
Comes with improved support for Microsoft Office file formats.
Red Hat to Drop Support for Btrfs
The company is building their own storage solution called Stratis.
Reinvent your network with DevOps tools and techniques:
Opportunities and Risks: Containers for DevOps
Automated Builds Using CentOS 7 and Kickstart
Elasticsearch, Logstash, and Kibana – The ELK stack
Are you ready for DevOps? Try your luck with the beta version of Linux Professional Institute's new DevOps exam.
Kolab Now Integrates Collabora Online
Kolab Now subscribers now have access to Collabora Online.
Endless OS, a Distribution Without Internet
A new version of Endless OS has been released.
GitHub Announces Open Source Friday Program
They encourage people to take time out and work on open source projects on Friday.
System76 Announces Their Own Distro, Pop!_OS
Pop!_OS is based on Ubuntu and uses the Gnome stack.
Linus Torvalds Talks About His Motivation
He never tires of working on the Linux kernel.


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Ain't Nothing But a Number: 11 Age-Defying Celebs | Style+Beauty | B* Real | BET
Check out how these women have stayed forever young!
Check out how these women have stayed forever young!
46 more celebs also join in commemorating their lives.
New study shows almost no improvement in diversity.
Get the details on Sofia Vergara's strapless look, plus more.
Model Tess Holliday was up to some crazy talk recently.
Meet the female millionaires and billionaires running the world.
Avengers: Age of Ultron drops to third place.
Sofia Vergara's comedy crashed and burned.
Summer movie season is off-and-running with first hit.

subset: commoncrawl


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We've been dating for 4 months now. He knows I'm a virgin and I know he's not. Def not pressuring eachother. But is this normal? I'm not complaining, I'm just wondering if all guys get like this around their gf?
Most Helpful Guy
Yes that's what happens. Guys can't help it. They don't even think about doing sexual things at all with a girl. But sometimes just being around them it happens. Trust me when I say this. A guys dick has a mind of its own. So don't blame him.00|00|0


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HPPSC Civil Judge Admit Card 2016 HPPSC Judicial Service Pre exam Admit Card 2016 Download Admission Letter cum Admit Card for HP Judicial Service Competitive Examination–2016 Exam Date Updates
HPPSC Exam Admit Card 2016
Latest Update : Admit Cards for HPPSC Judicial Service Pre Exam 2016 are available for Download Now. Candidates can Download their Pre exam admit cards from the link provided below…….
The Himachal Pradesh Public Service Commission is going to conduct a HP Judicial Service Examination-2015 vide Advertisement No. 6/2015. The written preliminary examination will be held in the month of February, 2016.
Date & Time of Exam : 28/02/2016 (Sunday).
Click Here to Download Notice Regarding Preliminary Exam
Admit Card :- Candidates who applied for this eligibility test must have a valid admit card to enter in prescribed exam centres. Himachal Pradesh PSC will make available to download the admit card on its website some days prior to exam date.
Exam Pattern : Exam Pattern for the Civil Judge (Pre) Exam is as Follows:-
► Written Exam will be multiple choice objective type.
► There will be three papers in this exam.
► Each question paper will be of 100 marks.
► The time duration for each paper will be 01:00 hour (60 minutes).
The names of those candidates whose applications are rejected or not entertained will be put on the website of the Commission. The candidates whose applications are not rejected shall be admitted provisionally for the examination. The list of such eligible candidates would be displayed on the website of the Commission on 01-02-2015.
>> Click Here to See Exam Pattern & Syllabus <<
Click Here to Download HPPSC Judicial Service Pre Exam Admit Card 2015-2016 : Available NOW
Candidates should have to keep in touch with Website of Himachal Pradesh Public service Commission (HPPSC) for more updates regarding information about Exam.
For more Information please visit – http://hp.gov.in/hppsc
Best of Luck for the Exam
For Any Query or Doubts Candidates can Leave Comment in the Comment Box. We will Try to give Appropriate Response of Queries and Clarify Your Doubts. Keep Updating Yourself.


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September 11, 2016
Vancouver is moving forward with its plans to combat the city's near-zero vacancy rental rate, according to a statement from mayor Gregor Robertson. City staff have been working on two reports on what better regulation in the rental market could look like – one on an empty homes tax and another on Airbnb regulations. The empty homes tax could impact as many as 10,800 homes sitting empty, according to a release from the mayor's office. "Housing needs to be first and foremost about homes, not to be treated as a commodity," said mayor Gregor Robertson in a written statement….
Source: http://www.metronews.ca/news/vancouver/2016/09/11/vancouver-to-improve-protection-for-renters.html
September 11, 2016


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so I've had black hair my whole life and its getting boring now and I want to go blond or maybe get highlights. what do you girls and guys think ?
Most Helpful Guy
Leopard spots would be hot.
Or tiger stripes.
Whatever you decide, make sure the carpet matches the drapes.
My $.02? Natural black hair is sexy. Certainly sexier than a bleach or dye job in another color.00|00|0


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I am 30 and he is 40. I made a man bouquet for him which includes his favorite candy, axe body sprays, whiskey, rum, and protein bars. It is in a clear base filled with candy which each of the items above on a stem substituting for flowers. He is now a new vapor fan so I made a heart shape box of vape juices for his vapor. I feel silly. Is this too much? You think he will like it?
It is so hard to get stuff for a guy. Everything is so girly.
Most Helpful Guy
if he's a smoker, yea.00|00|0
Most Helpful Girl
Sounds pretty thoughtful and cute to me. Of course he will like it :3.00|00|0


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clean & tidy needed bit of freshen up . plenty of leaflets to visit places plenty of places near by if you wanted to eat out they provided continental breakfast you had to order it we didnt we went to subway 2 minutes up the...More
Getting you more information on this room
Getting you more information on this room
"Ask for the ground floor as the lift has been out of order for at least two years."
"Although free wifi, it did not work in the room and we had to go into the lobby to access it."


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Experience the thrill of street racing as a member of a team out
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A vicious circle of violence has erupted. The battle torn
Two years have passed since Peter Parker first hit the streets
Gaming's most famous heroine makes her triumphant return in Lara
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The revival of one of the great classics in side-scrolling
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This video game is available for play both on your PSP and PS2
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Get Frantix and get ready to? Challenge yourself in the first


text:
My girlfriend loves dragging me to erotic art shows with watermelon-sized buttplugs and more leather than a Texan saddlery. And for reasons I don't understand, I often end up backstage. You know, where all the beautiful people live? They swap stories about things I pretend to understand, while I grow more and more awkward, burrowing into a hole so deep I can barely string a sentence together. It's horrific, so whenever such an event is proposed, I have my dealer place a tab of LSD in my palm. It helps me.
On our most recent outing, I was happily chatting in a suave, brightly lit foyer. Things were good and the night was young. At seven, we were ushered inside the theatre where I sat in the comfiest chair my rear end had ever graced. No word of a lie, I was on the rump of the Great Lord himself, and this Lord was mighty pleased to have me there. It was then I knew this particular trip would be a grand one.
Yet thirty minutes in I'd watched enough erotica for a lifetime. Having focused on one thing for too long, my mind collapsed, shifting so quickly I lost track of its path. Eventually, I found it on the other side of my cerebral cortex, and with it, a clear, urgent goal: get Doritos. And not the Nacho Cheese flavour. I needed plain, salted, Doritos. But not to eat them. I simply needed the crinkly, polypropylene bag. For research purposes, of course.
Doritos' bags are half chip, half air. Of course, that's far from new information; every red-eyed stoner this side of Nimbin has spoke of this fable after a toke one pinch too large, but I needed to delve deeper. Was it actually air inside those bags? It could be anything, right?
Recently, I'd watched a documentary on chemical warfare. Toxic, airborne substances still exist. They kill instantly and are just plain nasty, tossed in the naughty corner as far as ethics in war go. The documentary was a great watch, made even better by the vintage Fatboy Slim tracks used for every single tie-in. But it made me think: what better way to spread death than a global snack? They're everywhere, airtight and concealed. And better yet, they're the least suspicious consumable on the planet, hiding in plain sight.
And so sitting in that theatre, rolling through my A-grade LSD, the terror took hold. Were the latest batch of Dorito corn chips half-filled with Sarin gas? Would every opened bag result in a tight chest and excess drooling, forcing people to wriggle around and die like a moth hit with Mortein? What a terrible way to go, I thought! But effective? Of course. How crazy that our own country's gluttony would bring about such an untimely death.
And under the influence, I was a hero; the hero. I thought, "It must be stopped." And if anyone could take on a multi-national, Government-driven ploy to eradicate the greater world, it was a kite-high 23-year-old in an erotic theatre with zero understanding of Sarin gas, cross-border policies or sealing agents.
Wildly paranoid, I crept from the theatre. I ignored the "No entry or exit during showtime" notice on the door. That earned me a glare from Frodo Baggins, the fictional character in J. R. R. Tolkien's legendarium Lord Of The Rings. Surely he himself was involved. In truth, he was small. Should we come to blows, I would sedate him using a rare chokehold my uncle taught me many years ago.
Outside, I walked straight to the bar: "Doritos, please. Not the Nacho cheese flavour. And not the big packet. I don't want one of those show-bag-sized Dorito packets. Can you imagine me in there, yeah? With this huge, crinkling packet of Doritos! HA! And there's some poor old sod behind me peering over this big-ass chip packet trying to watch some chick pull a G-string out of God know's where it's tucked!? Ludacris! I'd look a fool!"
The gentleman held a blank stare. "No Doritos."
"Jesus Christ!" I gasped. "Do you know who bought them all? Is he in there? I'll find him if he his. He could spare a packet, surely. The monster must have bought 50! What kind of a man comes to a respectable theatre like this and buys all the Doritos. A taxi driver, surely!"
"We don't stock Doritos, Sir." It appeared the clerk was lying to me, perhaps bribed by a greater power. But if he wasn't, we were lucky; no Doritos inside meant the sarin gas hadn't infiltrated the theatre, and my friends would make it out of there alive!
"Is there a place nearby I can buy Doritos? Not the Nacho chee-," He cut me off, knowing I'd explain the same thing I'd done so already.
"A 7-eleven," he said. His calmness was unnerving.
An elderly woman was now shouldering the man, as if a lack of Doritos would result in me jumping the bench and strangling him with my coat jacket. Of course, I would do no such thing. My coat jacket was too expensive, and surely it would tear before that old oaf ran out of wind.
"If I get the Doritos from across the road, not the Nacho Cheese ones, can I bring them back in? I would feel right silly sitting on the street with the Doritos and not being able to see the rest of the play, all because you've decided to sell Kettle chips instead of Doritos. You must understand my plight? Surely!?"
The man was fed up, so I waited for no answer, leaving out the main entrance. I went down 18 stairs, one left then one right, across a Pedestrian strip and there I was. Orange, white, green, white, red, in that order – the universal colours of the humble 7-eleven.
Inside the store sat the Holy Grail. Sitting on the special's rack was a packet of plain flavoured Doritos; perfect, just the size I needed, not too big, nor too small. And bar the shopkeeper, there wasn't another soul inside. That meant I hadn't been followed; there was no collegiate linebacker ready to crush my skull and snatch the last of the original Nachos, laughing at my limp figure as he uncovered the air-to-chip-to-sarin ratio conspiracy.
'What a miracle,' I thought. "I'll be a hero! I'll be on the news, even!"
I don't remember buying the Doritos. Clarity didn't return until I sat on the kerb outside the 7-eleven. My phone was vibrating in my pocket like a defective dildo: on, off, slightly on, raging, off again. Had I stolen a dildo from that ridiculous show I was in a few seconds or a couple of hours ago? Surely not; it was my phone. Dildos don't play Rihanna's 'Work Work Work', anyway. At least not to my knowledge.
With the Doritos firmly in my grasp, I accepted fate. I would be the martyr sacrificed at the hands of the evil sarin-Dorito ploy; it was for the better of mankind. So I opened the packet and a second or two passed – nothing. But then, like clockwork, gas came bellowing out! I swear on the rotting carcass of Charles Darwin himself, it poured out the same way steam did when I threw dry ice in my Grandmother's toilet and told her it was on fire.
I was dead, no doubt about it; I'd reached the end, a life half lived. There were no get out of jail free cards this time 'round: goodbye mother, father, sister, friends; you were all lovely. Things went dark then bright again, and in those final moments, I even shouted the name of a Lord I never believed in. I figured it couldn't hurt, right?
And then the bright light came, just like I'd seen in the movies. But they were a world apart from the lights I'd imagined. In fact, i knew these lights: they belonged to two police officers who'd been called to the 7-eleven after a packet of Doritos had been stolen by an inebriated man speaking to himself about Safron. Safron!? How crazy must they be? We've got Sarin in packets of Doritos and they're worried about a gourmet spice and pinging me for a $4.99 packet of fried cornmeal? "Forget the flamin' Doritos you imbeciles! There's Sarin in the air, right here, right now!" I yelled at the officers. Fatboy Slim had returned.
Waking up to find your love's not real
Waking up to find your love's not real
Waking up to find your love's not real
Waking up to find your love's not real
With no response, I repeated myself. "I have sarin gas, I said!" pointing to the bag of Doritos, now sitting at my feet. The two of them – one with a face that looked like it had run the length of a cheese grater, the other with skin the envy of any B-list celebrity – looked confused. Perhaps even more so than before.
They both stepped back and drew their weapons. "Great idea, officers – shoot the Sarin gas! Kill it!" I cackled, a far cry from a smart idea. Cheese Grater frowned and got on the radio. I heard him say, "We've got a live one." Or maybe he didn't say that. But I think that's what I'd say. Sarin would say that too. So would Fatboy Slim.
Eight police threw my head on the pavement after forty minutes of negotiations. My girlfriend watched helplessly, a mix of concern and shame. She'd been told I shoplifted, threatened officers with a substance of chemical warfare (which can easily pass as terrorism) and that I was a "right dickhead" for causing fuss over nothing. True.
I allegedly told police I was close friends with Fatboy Slim. In my version of events, the two of us won a regional ping-pong tournament together back in 2009. Alas, the proof of our victory went up in flames when the regional hall fell victim of an arson attack in late '12, so there was little to show just how tight Star 69 and I truly were.
We've come a long long way together,
Through the hard times and the good,
I have to celebrate you baby,
I have to praise you like I should
Doritos are great. Sarin is bad. Saffron is irrelevant. Acid blends all three.
Words by Sammy Attwood (follow him), the co-founder of YFH. He made this post up. It's not true. He only eats kale. Photo by Michael.


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Out of Stock
Callaway Org 14 Cart Bag
Product Information:
Keep clubs safe and secure during your next cart outing with the Org 14 Cart Bag. A 14-way stadium top constructed with 3 dividers provides shaft protection and club organization. 10 forward-facing pockets, including a velour-lined valuables pocket and spacious apparel pockets, provide ample accessory storage and are easily accessible while the bag is on a cart. A Tri-Foot stability base gives the Callaway® Org 14 Cart Bag ultimate stability.
- 14-way stadium top constructed with 3 co-molded TPR dividers for shaft protection
- 10 forward facing pockets for easy accessory access while bag is attached to the cart
- Pockets include a velour-lined valuables pocket, spacious apparel pockets, and insulated cooler pocket
- Scorecard pocket, pen holder, and hook and loop glove holder for convenient accessory storage
- TPR co-molded strap tunnel with Cart Bite™ technology to keep bag secure on the cart
- Sturdy TPR front grab handle for easy transportation and loading on and off the cart
- Tri-foot stability base gives bag a secure stance when secured to cart or fixed on its base
- Custom rainhood for use during inclement weather
- Brand: Callaway
- Country of Origin: Imported
Web ID: W13CLWYORG14CRTBG


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DescriptionSpectrum® Writing for grade 6 guides students through each step of the writing process as they write paragraphs, personal narratives, fiction stories, descriptive comparisons, outlines, research reports, persuasive arguments, and more. Spectrum® Writing workbooks guide students as they write for a variety of purposes, including writing to tell a story, writing to provide information, and writing to state an opinion. Lessons support current state standards. Step-by-step instructions help with planning, drafting, revising, proofreading, and sharing writing. A Writer's Handbook reinforces grammar and language skills, and a complete Answer Key is included. Engaging, open-ended writing projects combined with standards-based learning make these workbooks an essential resource for school success. Spectrum, the best-selling workbook series, is proud to provide quality educational materials that support your students' learning achievement and success.
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I want to make jungle animals out of fondant. Either painting onto a fondant cutout or cutting different colors out to make a flat mural of animals. Has anyone done a cake like this or any themed cake using this technique. I need tips quick. I need to start the decorations tonight. thanks.
there are lots of great pictures in the gallery - take a look! A lot of people look at sculpey/clay books for help making fondant figures, too.
Good luck!
I tried looking in the gallery, but any words I used to search came up with nothing. Anyone have any links to cakes with flat fondant images used in the decorating???
Here are some done with chocolate transfers, I'll bet you could use fondant... http://www.cakecentral.com/modules.php?name=gallery&file=displayimage&pid=89787
No more ideas?


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How Should the US Government Respond to ISIS?
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35 Photos Of Stars Who Are Basically Unrecognizable
27 Incredible Makeunders That Make These Celebrities Almost Unrecognizable
Updated: Wed Aug 23, 2017 07:51 am
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Mission Edge seeks to be a leader and innovator of social change in our corner of the world. Our programmatic strategy aims to leverage the resources, skills, and innovation from both the nonprofit sector and the business world to help accelerate this social change and create sustainable solutions for some of the community's most pressing needs.
By fostering connections and collaboration across sectors, programs such as Transition Edge, Skills-Based Volunteering and Encore Fellowship harness new perspectives and create a multiplier effect that allows nonprofits to reach more people and do more good.
Transition Edge provides On-the-Job Training (OJT) and mentoring to veterans who are transitioning from the military to civilian life and connects veterans to nonprofits working in the community. Our goal is to help break down the barrier that exists between the civilian and military sectors and enable the community to see the benefit of the tremendous capabilities and values that former military members bring to the workplace.
Skills-Based Volunteering is designed to build high-functioning teams of corporate and nonprofit professionals to collectively tackle the pressing needs of nonprofit organizations in areas such as marketing, finance, legal and technology. By providing a structured environment with clear goals, the program activates volunteers who want to address solutions in the social sector to create real change, while having a rewarding experience and driving employee satisfaction.
Both nonprofits and corporations are provided with tools, training and relationship management resources during every phase of the program.
The Encore Fellowships Program matches corporate retirees with nonprofit organizations. Encore Fellows complete a high-impact assignment working in a nonprofit for six to twelve months. They earn a stipend and learn about the nonprofit sector while helping organizations build capacity. By engaging experienced professionals at the middle or end of their careers in skills-based service, the program provides nonprofit organizations with affordable access to professional expertise, best practices, and tools to increase organizational effectiveness.


text:
Diabetic Orange Nut Cake
READY IN: 45mins
Recipe by Sherrybeth
Mom recently made this recipe for daddy. We found it in one of Nee's cookbooks. I would have NEVER guessed it was not a whole fat, whole sugar recipe.
Top Review by Outta Here
This is very rich, moist and flavorful for being lower fat and sugar. The orange flavor is great and the added texture from the whole wheat flour is nice. I used walnuts, but I think almonds would be good also. Served with no-sugar added Cool Whip.
See Discussion:1 Review
Ingredients Nutrition
- 1⁄3 cup margarine
- 1⁄4 cup Splenda brown sugar blend
- 1⁄3 cup Splenda granular
- 1 egg
- 1 1⁄4 cups whole wheat flour
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1⁄4 teaspoon baking soda
- 1⁄4 teaspoon cinnamon
- 2⁄3 cup orange juice
- 2 teaspoons orange extract
- 2 tablespoons chopped nuts
Directions See How It's Made
- Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.
- Grease 8-inch square baking pan.
- In large mixing bowl, combine margarine, Splenda's and egg. Beat 2 minutes at high speed, sraping the bowl occasionally. Blend in flour and mix well.
- Blend in remaining ingredients, except nuts. Beat 1 minute on slow speed.
- Pour mix into prepared pan. Sprinkle with nuts. Bake at 350 degrees 25 to 30 minutes.


text:
Do not miss Autumn Harvest on Saturday, October 8 in North School Park, for your chance to build a scarecrow (we supply all you need) with your family or group of friends, take a hayride, enjoy kids' crafts and live entertainment, have a fun lunch break in the park or visit the animals at the petting zoo!
Autumn Harvest will be held from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. at North School Park, Arlington Heights Road and Eastman Street.
Throughout the day, there will be live music from local school bands, performance from Fusion, a dance group from the Arlington Heights Park District, and a magic show.
Scarecrow building will begin at 11 a.m. and will be judged around 2 p.m. You will not want to miss out on this unique opportunity to get together a team (children, adults, families, neighbors) and create a one-of-a-kind scarecrow!
Mark this event on your calendar and get ready to enjoy a wonderful fall celebration. This event is sponsored by the Village's Special Events Commission in cooperation with the Arlington Heights Park District.
This item was posted by a community contributor. To read more about community contributors, click here.


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Pink Gives Her Daughter Willow A Matt Damon Themed Birthday Party To Celebrate Her First Crush!
Pink has proved she has what it takes to become the most embarrassing mom in showbiz by giving her daughter Willow a Matt Damon themed birthday cake to poke gentle fun of the 5-year-old's first crush.
Pink shared some adorable Instagram shots of her daughter's birthday party complete with a inspired cake below which was captioned "Matt Damon made it after all."
Pink was in hot water with Willow last year when the little one realized mom had been blabbing about her crush to the press. The parental indiscretions were revealed by non-other than Apple's Siri when Pink and her daughter were playing a game with the disembodied voice of internet knowledge, the 36-year-old singer explained:
"She's already upset with me because there's a new game we play called 'Ask Siri' — which, she just found out last week there's a Siri — and I said, 'Siri, Willow, Matt Damon' and all this stuff came up/ [Willow's] like, 'How do they know?' She got mad at me! I was like, 'Oh, my God, I need to keep my mouth shut. Sorry!'"
And, who can blame Willow for
Pink first let slip about her daughter's love of all things Damon on the Kyle and Jackie O radio show where she joked:
"She loves [The Martian]. I love it. I thought it was great, but I don't love it the way she loves it. She asked me if Matt Damon can come to [her birthday party]. I think she has a crush."
It's so cute to see Pink try and give her lil one the birthday of her dreams, even if Matt Damon was only available in cake form. After all, she knows


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Remington 596 magnum 17 cal
This model is rimfire and I would like to make it center fire. Where can I buy the parts to make the switch? How hard will this be?
The.17 RF cartridges are based on .22 LR or .22 mag. The .17 Remington Centerfire is based on the .221 Fireball (shortened version of the .222)
Chamber dimensions are nowhere NEAR close. You would need to have rifle rechambered, assuming that there is enough metal at the breech to allow this to be done. The bolt would have to redesigned to contain the GREATLY higher pressures. Which will also handle having a different extractor to handle a grooved base cartridge, and a center fire firing pin. And then there is the issue of loading a 2.5 inch cartridge from a 1 inch magazine. Next, replace the barrel, since it has wrong rate of twist for the .17 Remington. Think the only thing original left would be the buttplate.
This is like buying parts to convert a Dodge Neon to a Dodge Ram pickup truck. Could it be done? In theory. Start by replacing everything in between the front and rear license plates. Sorry-
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Copyright ©2000 - 2017, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.


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Western Homestead Old Fashioned Butter Cake
Recipe by Montana Heart Song
Old fashioned buttery thin crust on the outside of this tube pan cake. There is no salt or milk. Powdered sugar is the key to this cake and you can use butter, margarine or butter flavored Crisco. I use a combination of butter and butter flavored Crisco. No icing necessary. Serve with fruit, whipped cream or whipped jello or any combination. Recipe found in the walls of our homestead built in 1907 tacked along side of Lithuanian newspapers which were used for insulation. I have updated recipe ie. butter flavored Crisco and Pam. They pounded the sugar to become powder with mortar and pestle.
Top Review by dwolkenhauer38
I got this same recipe from my aunt from Texas, 58 or so years ago. It was fabulous & still is. I'd not made it in 10 - 16 years now. The thought hit my mind to make it for Circle, served with a wee sprinkle of pdr sugar accompanied by a citrus fruit slush drink. Couldn't find the recipe in the drawer, so----- into the net! Another triumph done! Came out fantastic. Had to print it out so's to send it back down there so they can see where this may have originated. Thank You, That's fantastic news. D'
See Discussion:1 Review
Ingredients Nutrition
- 453.59 g butter or 453.59 g margarine or 226.79 g butter with 8 oz margarine
- 453.59 g powdered sugar
- 6 eggs, room temperature
- 650.62 ml regular white flour
- 4.92 ml vanilla extract
- Pam cooking spray
Directions See How It's Made
- In mixing bowl, add 1 pound of butter or a combination of butter and margarine or butter and butter flavored Crisco to equal 1 pound.
- Mix on low speed until soft and blended.
- Add powdered sugar in one/third amounts, beating each one/third until all is mixed and fluffy.
- Then add one egg at a time. Beat one minute for each egg.
- Add vanilla extract.
- Mix.
- Preheat oven to 300°F.
- Spray Pam in a tube or angel food cake pan.
- Note: You can use butter or margarine also.
- Add flour, 1/4 cup to 1/2 cup at a time and mix on low speed until blended.
- Pour batter evenly in pan.
- Bake 1 1/2 hour in oven. High altitude, cook 5 to 10 minutes more.
- Turn over tube pan over plate. I guarantee this cake will fall right out on the plate. Serve warm or cool. This is a no fail cake. Do not open the oven door.


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?"No Mind Dem" is the result of a long-anticipated collabo between two big weights from South East Nigeria.
Nani Boi and Mr Raw give us a nice jam with motivational lyrics for all those who aspire to keeping their dreams alive.
Produced by the ace Dekumzy, and joins the list of his top notch productions for the 2015 year.
Check on it!
DOWNLOAD Nani Boi – "No Mind Dem" ft. Mr Raw (Prod. by Dekumzy)
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nice tune Mr raw keep blazing
NANI BOI—are u nw into music nd nt play write…………wish u d best bt play well ooo
Video Take Me Home By Nani Boi


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What is JotForm?
JotForm is a free online form builder which helps you create online forms without writing a single line of code. No sign-up required.
At JotForm, we want to make sure that you're getting the online form builder help that you need. Our friendly customer support team is available 24/7.
We believe that if one user has a question, there could be more users who may have the same question. This is why many of our support forum threads are public and available to be searched and viewed. If you'd like help immediately, feel free to search for a similar question, or submit your question or concern.
JotForm v4 & Placeholder: special Character is not being read in placeholder.Asked by jkron on February 17, 2017 at 01:13 PM
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I see what you mean:
The placeholder is not reading special characters. I have forwarded this to our back-end team for further help. You will be notified via this thread when it gets fixed.


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Need an AMH Test in Beeville, TX? Simply order online 24/7 and get a fast, affordable AMH Test at a lab near you (Find More Locations):
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Enzo Ferrari
Class Assignment: Famous People
By: Robert
IX. gimnazija
Zagreb, Croatia
Enzo Ferrrari was born in 1898 and died in 1988. He was Italian car driver. He first started working for FIAT. After FIAT he went to samller car company CMN . After CMN he went to Alfa Romeo. After he left Alfa Romeo he founded his own company in 1947. Ferrari's first win was in the British Grand Prix in 1951. He won his first championship in 1952-53 season. He died in his hometown of Modena.


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Problems Transferring Converted Epub File to Nook
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Junior Member
Posts: 7
Karma: 10
Join Date: Aug 2010
Device: Nook, Kindle 3
Problems Transferring Converted Epub File to Nook
Hello, All,
I just purchased my Nook last weekend, have downloaded lots of books from both B&N as well as public domain epub books. I have been using Calibre to catalog, store and manage all these books.
Today I created a text file and then converted that file to epub format via Calibre. The conversion seems to have worked correctly since I am able to read the book in FBReader.
How should I upload the book to My Documents in the Nook? I tried "Save to File" and specifying the "My Documents" folder in the Nook, but that didn't work (I checked for new content but the file didn't appear, although I think it's in the folder). I also tried to Send it to Device, but it looks like Calibre created a folder and then put the epub and jpg file in the folder.
I have not had problems downloading and saving other epub files to the Nook and having them read correctly.
What I am doing wrong?
Thanks for your help.
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Drivin' N' Cryin'
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Guitarist/vocalist Kevn Kinney (Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA), having relocated to Atlanta, Georgia, USA, after splitting from his old punk band the Prosecutors, met bass player Tim Nielsen in a local club, and the two formed Driving N Cryin. Scarred But Smarter was recorded in a week and a half with a real garage rock trio sound, and the band recruited drummer Jeff Sullivan from Mr Crowes Garden, who later became the Black Crowes, and began to broaden their musical style, incorporating country and R&B influences, while expanding their audience with gruelling club touring. Whisper Tames The Lion, by way of contrast to the debut, was rather overproduced, but Mystery Road, with a second guitarist in ex-R.E.M. roadie Buren Fowler, was more representative of the bands true sound. However, Driving N Cryin had become musically somewhat schizophrenic at this stage, mixing heavy rockers with country songs, although the...
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Volunteer Much?
We wouldn't be anything without our dedicated volunteers and centre members! Come and be appreciated!!!
Sunday August 13th, 2017 – Woodbine Beach – 1PM – 1675 Lakeshore Blvd. Area 1 – The Beaches
rsvp to firstname.lastname@example.com
Take Back the Night 2017 – Vlog for d/Deaf community
Check out the new mural in the TRCCMWAR office! Art by Fiya Buxa
Recent Campaigns – May 2017
Big ups to The Sorority for their generous donation!
Toronto Writer's Collective partners with the TRCCMWAR
Every Friday from 12-1:30 at 2340 Dundas St. West, Unit G32.
- Everyone is a writer regardless of prior experience or formal education
- Through encouragement and support, people grow as writers
- In the unique creative genius of every voice: each persons' experience provides a wealth of inspiration as a writer and/or artist
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Eumelus was the name of several men in Greek mythology:
- Eumelus, who succeeded Admetus as the King of Pherae. He led Pherae and Iolcus in the Trojan War on the side of the Greeks. He was the husband of Iphthime and the son of Admetus and Alcestis. He was one of the "suitors of Helen" and was fifth and last in the chariot races at Patroclus's funeral. He was also one of the Greeks in the Trojan Horse.
- Eumelus, companion of Triptolemus. He had a son Antheias who tried to ride the chariot of Triptolemus but fell off and died.
- Eumelus, son of Eugnotus and father of Botres
- Eumelus, one of the suitors of Penelope
- Eumelus, son of Merops and father of Byssa, Meropis and Agron. The family offended Hermes and were transformed into birds.
- Eumelus, a companion of Aeneas
- Eumelus (Gadeirus), a figure in Plato's myth of Atlantis
| This disambiguation page lists articles associated with the same title.
If an internal link led you here, you may wish to change the link to point directly to the intended article.
|This page uses content from the English Wikipedia. The original article was at Eumelus. The list of authors can be seen in the page history.


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Hi everyone. Happy New Year to all of you and I hope you had a good holiday season. It's 2014 now and the voting has come to an end. It was a close race for first place, but only one came out on top. The majority of you voted and chose for my next story...Superheroes. Yes, many of you wanted to see a story with people in tights :).
I've already decided to name to story 'My Secret'. It's a double entendre that can mean the main character's hidden identity as a superhero, and his secret about his sexuality. I'm going to begin thinking about how I want to write the story, and I'll begin working on it once 'Is It Possible...?' is complete. Thank you to those of you that voted.
And I'm also here to announce that I'm going to need to take a break from posting on the site for a little while. To be honest, I'm confused as all hell with what I want to do with this story considering it's so different from the other stories I've done. SO I'm going to need to take a break so I can think about where I want 'Is It Possible...?' to go as a story. I'm also taking a bit of time off to edit 'Am I...?' into a longer story (I may even rewrite it). I'm thinking about submitting it for a contest to potentially turn it into a book if it does well (assuming I don't have a homophobe judging the entries) I'm helping another writer rewrite his story.
I don't know how long this break is going to be, but be sure to check for a new chapter every Monday to see if there is an update. I hope you all enjoy Chapter 5 of 'Is It Possible...?'
Chapter 5
The rest of the day with Greg is a very...normal one. I manage to learn a little bit more about Greg, how he also volunteers at an animal shelter, taking care of injured and abandoned animals, how he likes to take walks in Griffith Park, prefers to shop at locally owned businesses rather than big supermarkets, and how he...just does everyday things.
Has my philosophy really been all wrong all these years? I mean, Greg does things I would do on a daily basis (well, I might not volunteer as much, but I could see myself doing it). And Greg's gay. A gay guy was doing things any average person would be doing. But Greg is just one guy. It doesn't mean that there aren't other gay people out there who aren't weak and do normal things.
I even spend another two days with Greg, just seeing what it is he does and spending time with him. I even find myself enjoying a lot of it and I've come to like volunteering at the soup kitchen with him. And I even think I see Greg enjoying it whenever I come and spend the day with him.
The next two weeks of practice go by in a wave of pain and exhaustion. Greg is a regular slave driver, pushing us all to the brink of physical breakdown. He's having us do things we've never even done before, working muscles we didn't even know we had. We're sometimes even spending more time in the weight room than on the ice.
I even notice that Greg's 'work till you drop' mentality is rubbing off on the Kings' trainers and even our assistant coaches, Julian Warren and Spencer Jacobs, who may look like nice men in their mid-forties but, with the new feeling Greg is giving the team, turn into what sometimes feels like the devil incarnate.
It's Friday in the third week of August and I'm pulling into the parking lot of the Toyota Sports Center, where I find a large white bus sitting outside. Today is Greg's mystery field trip day and while he did send an email out about it about a week and a half ago, no one knows where it is this bus is headed and what it is we're headed for.
I shut off my car and grab my small backpack from the passenger seat, which only has a few bottles of water and a change of clothes in it. I lock my car and approach the bus, and I find several of my teammates already standing and waiting. "Hi, Tanner."
I turn around and see Gunnar standing behind me, his ever-present smile on his face. "Hey, Gunnar," I say. "Please tell me you have any sort of idea what this whole field trip is about."
"Sorry, Tanner. I'm in the dark as much as you are."
"What are we in the dark about?"
Gunnar and I turn and see Vladimir standing next to us. "This field trip," I say.
Vladimir nods understandingly. "I know how you both feel. I was up late last night with thoughts running through my head about what it could be."
"Knowing Coach Natick, it will probably be a more severe form of torture," Gunnar says.
Vladimir and I both nod. Greg may be a nice guy when he isn't coaching, but when he's in the zone, you do not want to mess with him because he will make you sweat for it (both through the work he has you do and the glare he gives you). The rest of the team arrives in increments over the next ten minutes, all of them just as confused as I am.
Just before 9:00, Greg walks out of the sports center with a bag over his shoulder and is wearing some workout shorts and a sleeveless Under Armour shirt, very similar to what I'm wearing now but with a different colored shirt. The rest of the coaching staff and the team trainers walk out of the sports center moments later.
Greg walks up to all of us and secures his bag. "Hope you're all ready for today," he says with an evil-looking smile. "You're all going to sweat your balls off."
Yay. We all head onto the bus and quickly find seats, the coaching staff and trainers sitting toward the front of the bus and Greg climbing on last. "Um...Coach Natick?" Jonah Donahue, a fellow forward, calls out. "Where's this bus headed?"
"That's a surprise," Greg replies. "But don't worry. I'm not taking you some place where you'll all be in any sort of danger. But you all will be begging for air not long after we start."
I gulp audibly at the words and hear several of my teammates do the same. Greg turns toward the driver, pats his on the shoulder, and takes a seat in the front of the bus. The driver slowly starts to pull out of the parking lot and pulls onto the main road, and we're off to our mystery destination.
Over the next forty minutes, I see the landscape outside my window turn from the high-rise buildings and congestion of the city, to the nice homes and open atmosphere of the suburbs. It really reminds me of Beverly Hills when I was growing up, but I know we went south, not west.
The bus winds through the streets and eventually comes to a stop outside of...a high school? "We're here!" Greg calls out. "Everyone off the bus!"
Many of us confused, we climb off the bus and into the hot eighty-degree heat and look up at the school. "I bet you're all wondering why we're here," Greg says. Many of us nod. "This is where we're having our field trip. I hope you all brought sunscreen because we're going to be outside all day today."
Damn it. I knew I was forgetting something when I left my apartment this morning. "Our special guest is probably waiting for us behind the school," Greg continues. "Get all your stuff and follow me."
That's the other thing that's been scratching at the back of my brain. Who the hell is the friend of Greg's that's going to help us? We all grab our stuff and follow Greg as he walks around the side of the school. I see that this school takes great care of its athletic facilities, the baseball fields, tennis courts, outdoor basketball courts, and track field in amazing condition.
But what's in the best condition is the football field. The grass is the perfect shade of green and cut at the perfect length and the white lines that surround the field look undisturbed. I see that there is a lot of training equipment on the side of the field, much of it unknown to me. But what grabs my attention is the large man wearing a skin-tight shirt and workout shorts in the middle of the field.
I also see that there are two children running and circling him, one boy and one girl. The boy and the girl seem to be playing keep away from the man, throwing a football between them. Even from here, I can tell the man is letting the children keep the ball way from him. Something tells me that those two are his kids.
As we get closer, I notice that Greg is smiling at the man. We're about twenty feet away when Greg suddenly calls out. "How's my favorite MVP doing?!"
The man turns around and grins widely. "Gregory! Great to see you!"
He bends down and holds his arm out. I see both kids around their small arms around the man's large arm and he lifts them off the group with very little effort while holding the football in his other arm. The two kids giggle as he walks with them hanging off his arm toward Greg and Greg gives the man a firm hug when the two meet.
Once the hug's over, I get a better look at the man and see he's beyond handsome. He looks to be about my age with dark brown hair in the style of a fauxhawk with dark grey eyes and a five o'clock shadow on his face. He's about my height, but seems to have more muscle than I do that's evenly proportioned all throughout his body.
His face is damn near perfect, with a chiseled jaw that looks like you can cut stone on it, bright, white teeth, and an air of kindness and selflessness around him. I look around my teammates and see a lot of them are staring wide-eyed at the man. Is he someone important or well known or something like that?
Greg looks back at us, still smiling. "Everyone, I'd like to personally introduce you to the man who will be helping us today. He's been one of my closest friends since college, but many of you know him as the star running back for the San Francisco 49ers: Josh Rusden."
The name hits me like a freight train. Josh fucking Rusden?! How the hell did Greg manage to snag a day with him?! This guy is one of the best running backs in the history of the NFL, and he's only a few months older than me! The only reason I've didn't recognize him was because I had only seen him during football games when he has his helmet on. Josh smiles at all of us. "It's nice to meet you all," he says in a deep voice.
"There are a lot of big men here, Jade."
"I know, Aiden. They're kind of scary."
I look down and see the two hanging children on Josh's arm looking up at us, a bit of fear in their faces. Josh smiles, tosses the football to the ground and hoists the children into his arms, where they both immediately wrap their arms around his neck. "Kids, don't be rude, Josh says to the children. "I'm big and you're not scared of me, are you?"
"No!" both kids immediately say.
"And it's the same for them. They're big people, but that doesn't mean you should feel afraid around them. Okay?"
Josh smiles at the kids before looking back at us. "Sorry about these two. They both knew I was going out today and clamped onto my legs and wouldn't let go. So I brought them along with me. Hope that's okay."
"It's no problem at all," Greg says. He looks at the two kids. "How are you two?"
"Hi, Mr. Natick!" the boy says (Aiden is his name I think the girl, Jade, said). "I'm good!"
"Me too!" Jade also says.
Greg smiles and rubs the tops of both kids' heads, making them both giggle. "He should be here in a few minutes to watch them while I'm helping you," Josh says to Greg.
He? He who? My thought process is interrupted by the rev of a loud engine. Josh immediately smiles at the noise. "There he is now. He'll be happy to see you, Gregory."
The team and I look back and see a sleek black and grey motorcycle appear from the side of the school and into the back parking lot, a man in a white t-shirt and jeans with a black helmet on his head straddling it. The man stops the motorcycle and kicks the kickstand out before turning off the engine. He reaches up and slips the helmet off his head, revealing a head of jet-black hair.
He holds the helmet under his arm and steps off the bike and starts to walk toward the field. I notice that he has a smile on his face that seems to get bigger as he gets closer to us. I see that the man is the epitome of perfect, not one thing about him less than it. Even though he was just wearing a helmet, there's not one hair out of place.
His body, although smaller than mine, is nothing to be ashamed of. Muscles that look like they've been sculpted from marble rest underneath the skin of his chest, stomach, and arms. And the thing that grabs the most of my attention are his eyes. They're the darkest blue I have ever seen in my life, almost looking unnatural.
And with his smile, those eyes seem to sparkle with life. Aiden and Jade suddenly drop from Josh's arm and run in the direction of the man. "Daddy!" they both yell.
So I guess Aiden and Jade aren't Josh's kids. The man smiles, drops his helmet and gets down on one knee, holding his arms out wide for the two kids as they run into his chest. He laughs and lifts both kids up, holding both of them in each arm. "Looks like you two have had a fun morning so far," he says.
Both kids smile and circle their arms around his neck, just like they did for Josh. He looks over at all of us and looks in Greg's direction. "Gregory! It's great to see you!"
"Same here, Leo!" Greg says with a large grin.
The man, Leo, walks over to Greg and attempts to give him a hug (which is pretty hard to do when you have two toddlers in your arms). The two manage to hug and Leo walks over to Josh. "Sorry I'm late. There was a problem at the shop that happened last minute."
"It's okay," Josh replies. "I was having fun with Aiden and Jade."
Leo smiles, rises up onto his toes and...plants a kiss right on Josh's lips. I feel my stomach drop at the sight of it. "And this is Leo Trigon," Greg says. "Another good friend of mine from college and Josh's husband of six years."
I'm shocked beyond words. They're fucking married?! I look around my teammates and try to see their reactions, but...I don't see any sort of change in any of them, not even a blink. "And these two are Aiden and Jade," Greg continues, "Josh and Leo's twin son and daughter."
I look back at the kids and see that they're both smiling openly at all of us. Aiden really takes after Leo with the same black hair and blue eyes, while Jade looks more like Josh with the dark brown hair and grey eyes. "We should be getting out of your way," Leo says. "We don't want to interrupt any more of your practice time. We're fans, by the way. We hope you all have a great season."
He looks down at his kids. "Are you two ready to spend the day with grandma and grandpa?"
"Yeah!" Jade and Aiden both say.
Leo smiles and looks back at Josh. "I'm going to need your car then. My bike's keys are in my pocket."
Josh reaches into Leo's pocket and pulls out his motorcycle keys, but not without a lustful look in his eye that makes me turn away for a second. He then pulls his own keys out of his own pocket and slips them into Leo's jeans. "I'll see you later tonight," Josh says, giving Leo another kiss.
He looks down at his son and daughter. "And don't misbehave at Grandma Penny and Grandpa Paul's house, as much as they love both of you."
"Okay, Daddy!" the kids say in unison once again.
Josh grins and kisses the tops of their heads before Leo turns and walks in the direction of the parking lot. Josh watches them until they're out of sight before turning back toward the team, his face still smiling. "Okay," he says. "Looks like you're all stuck with me for the next few hours. I hope you're all ready to work your asses off."
I involuntarily gulp at hearing that. "Gregory called me about three weeks ago and asked me if I could help you all work with a bit of your training while I have an off week from my pre-season training camp. He said you all were a bit rough around the edges when it came to speed. That's where I come into the picture.
"I'm the starting running back for the San Francisco 49ers and I have an average forty yard dash time of 4.19 seconds. When it comes to speed, I'm your guy."
"So you're going to make us run?" asks Bobby.
"For some of it," Josh says. "I'm also going to teach you some drills to help control your footwork so you're more coordinated on the ice, and I'm going to help with your strength a little, but we'll work on that a few hours into practice."
"But how will running on solid ground help us on the ice?" asks Alex. "They are two different surfaces."
"All of you feel just as steady and solid on the ice as you so on solid ground, right?" Josh asks. Many of us nod. "That's how these drills are going to help. If you increase your speed on land, you'll increase your speed on ice. So, I'm going to need a few bench trials to see how fast you all are, and yes goalies, that includes you."
I see Bradley and Chad slump over a bit at the news. "You're all going to be running from one end zone to the opposite thirty-yard line," Josh says. "That's seventy yards, a little longer than the length of an ice hockey rink. I'll be timing you so I can set a baseline. Stretch out a bit and we'll get started."
Josh walks over to the side of the field, where I see a bag sitting and Greg walks over with him, the two engaging in a conversation. I start to stretch out with my teammates and step over to Gunnar's side. "Gunnar, did you know that Josh was married to a guy?"
Gunnar looks over at me, confusion on his face. "Where the hell have you been, Tanner? The whole country knows about Josh's relationship with Leo." Christ, I really do need to start watching the news more often and paying attention to sports besides hockey. "Does something like that bother you, Tanner?"
"I'm working on understanding gay people a lot more and I think I've made some improvements over the last few weeks, but I'm still wrapping my head around the idea of having a gay guy help us train."
"What gay guy?"
Vladimir has appeared to my right, stretching his arms out. "Josh being gay," Gunnar says for me.
Vladimir nods understandingly. "You know, when I was younger something like that would have bothered me. But now, I do not see anything wrong with it."
"But what about that Russian anti-gay propaganda law?" I ask.
Vladimir suddenly scoffs. "That law came into effect after I immigrated to the United States, and I thought it was bullshit. It discriminated against a group of people, and I did not support it in the least. I am glad it was struck down two years ago when people finally saw it was a terrible law."
I look over at my other friend. "What about you, Gunnar?"
"I've been a supporter of the LGBT community ever since I was a teenager," he replies. "Just because someone is attracted to someone of the same sex, it doesn't mean that they are less of a person."
"Agreed," Vladimir pipes in.
"And it's the same with Josh," Gunnar continues. "He's proven that time and time again. He's a monster when he's standing on a football field, and I've read that he's a saint when he's off the field."
I look over at Josh and Greg, who are still animatedly talking to one another. As I'm watching them, I see that the two constantly wrap their arms around one another's shoulders. And whenever I see that, I feel a burning sensation in my throat and I suddenly feel a little angry. But there's also a hint of what feels like sadness in my stomach.
Why is it I want to walk over there and...pull Greg away from Josh? I shake my head out, trying to push my thoughts away. By the time I look back, Josh has come back and is standing in front of all of us with a stopwatch in his hand. "Everyone ready?" he asks. I don't see very many responses. "Well, too bad. And if you guys don't give it your all, you're just going to run again. Everyone to the far end zone."
We all follow Josh as we cross the field and to the end zone. When we finally get there, Josh reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small tube. "By the way, do any of you need sunscreen?" he asks. "I want to make sure your iced-up asses don't get burnt on my account."
It takes a second, but every hand goes up, including mine. Josh laughs at the sight and tosses the tube of spray sunscreen to Jacques, who starts to apply it vigorously, and for good reason. It's not even 11:00 yet and it feels like it's almost ninety degrees. After a few minutes, we've all applied some sunscreen to every exposed part of skin.
Josh takes the tube of sunscreen back and pulls another object out of his pocket: a gun. I feel my heart stop of a second and I see my teammates have gone pale as well. Josh laughs hard at seeing us. "Relax, you babies," he says. "It's a starting gun. See?"
Josh holds the gun above his head and pulls the trigger, a small pop filling the football field. It's just loud enough to get your attention, but not loud enough to be thought of as a real gun. "Okay," Josh says. "Like I said before, you're going to start from here, and sprint as fast as you can from the end zone to the opposite thirty yard line. Gregory and I will be down there recording your times and Gregory will call out with that megaphone of his who'll be running next."
I look over at Greg and see he's pulled a megaphone out of his bag. "And don't get upset if someone is faster than you," Josh continues. "You're competing against yourself, not each other. Stretch out a bit more and Gregory will call out who's going first. Good luck."
Josh turns and jogs down the field toward Greg, leaving all of us waiting and stretching. "I am screwed," I hear Alex say. "I am too big for speed."
"That's why we're here, Alex," says Damon Summer, another offensive player, says. "We're here to get faster. Hell, even Bradley and Chad are being forced to do this, and they don't even move from the goalie crease for most of the game!"
"But we're doing it anyway," Chad says. "Goalies need speed too, so they can get back into the crease if they come out, or if they need to get to the bench so we can get a sixth offensive player on the ice."
Chad has a good point. When you're down in a game, getting the goalie off the ice even a second earlier than he normally would mean an increased chance for a comeback. "Ready?" we hear Greg's amplified voice call out. "First up is Dmitri!"
Dmitri takes in a breath and walks over to the edge of the end zone. He gets into a starting position and I see Josh holding the starting gun above his head. With a loud pop, the start of the next several hours of hell begins.
Fucking God, my limbs feel like they're going to fall off. I don't even have the strength at the moment to sit up straight as I sit on the bleachers on the side of the football field, dripping in sweat. And it's the same with my teammates, who look to be in a similar state of exhaustion judging by the way many of them are lying on the bleachers rather than sitting up.
I never thought I would be running so much today. Sprints, distance running, suicides, leg exercises, our legs were put to every test there is. And our legs weren't the only parts of our bodies that were abused today. Josh had us practice with football sleds, and Jesus Christ, those things are a fucking nightmare! I was surprised when Greg joined in with us so he could get a workout in. And he held up with the rest of us.
It all took so much more effort to push them than I thought it would! I feel every muscle in my body burning from exertion. I take a deep drink of water from my bottle and find a body has appeared in front of me. Josh is looking over us, studying all of us as we try and regain our breath and lower our heart rates.
Josh was doing drills along with us, but despite being sweaty, he doesn't look out of breath at all. He suddenly smiles at us. "I'm incredibly impressed with all of your performances today," he says. "I thought some of you would collapse at some point, but every single one of you managed to stay on your feet for every drill we did today. And you all lived, right?"
Barely. A few of us groan at the question, making Josh chuckle. "I know many of you aren't used to training like this, but you'll see soon that your speed on the ice will have improved. At the beginning of practice today, Gregory and I recorded your seventy-meter dash times for a baseline comparison.
"I'm pleased to say that at the end of practice, when we did the drill again, all of you managed to beat your baseline times by more than a tenth of a second. That's astounding, even by professional standards."
I'm shocked. We improved that much in just a single day? Is that even possible? "I know you're all wondering how you achieved something like that so quickly," Josh says. "Try to remember that sports are just as much mental as they are physical. If you go around thinking that you aren't as fast as you think you are, you won't be as fast.
"That's another reason why I helped you today. All of you are plenty fast already, but Gregory told me there was something holding you all back from being as fast as possible. I helped you all to see that you do have the capability to be faster than any team in the NHL. But I can't just tell you you're the fastest, you need to believe that you are.
"Keep that fighting mentality in your heads, and you'll see that you'll be faster on the ice."
"But why did you have us do those strength drills?" Ken asks.
"Strength is the same mentality," Josh says. "You all probably thought it was insanely hard to even move those sleds. But didn't it get easier to move them the more you did it?"
I think back and remember thinking that moving the sleds was easier toward the end of practice than it was the beginning. "I hope you all remember what I've taught you when the season starts in a month and a half," Josh says. "You're all dismissed." We all start to rise off the bleachers. "Except for you, Tanner. I'd like a word with you for a few minutes."
A bit confused, I relent and tell the guys I'll meet them back at the bus. They continue on without me and I look back at Josh. "What is it you'd like to talk to me about?" I ask.
"Take a seat." A bit wary, I sit down on the bleachers and Josh takes a seat next to me. He lets out a deep sigh and slouches over a bit. "I really hate it when I'm forced to get mean."
Mean? I'm about to ask a question when my breath stops short. I'm met by two blazing grey eyes boring holes into me and a jaw locked in pure fury. "I really hate it when people call me a faggot to my face," Josh growls. "But anyone who calls my family faggots I want to rip limb from limb."
What the hell is he talking about? I try to open my mouth to respond, but no words or even babble comes out of my mouth. "Ryan is my brother," Josh tells me.
Oh dear God. The look on Josh's face tells me that he wants to destroy me and eat whatever mincemeat he turns me into. "J-Josh," I stammer. "I-I'm sorry about what I..."
Without warning, Josh bends over and lets out a gut-busting laugh, a loud laugh that echoes across the football field as it erupts from his lungs. Josh sits back up and looks back at me, wiping his eye dry. "My God! You looked like you were about to shit yourself!"
I think I did. Josh continues laughing for a minute more while I sit in complete confusion. "Jesus, Tanner. You should learn when to differentiate a joke from someone being serious," Josh tells me.
"I don't think anyone could've known that was a joke," I reply. Josh just shrugs a bit. "So...Ryan is actually your brother?"
"Yup. Love him to death, as annoying as he is with being on time."
"Um...has he told you about...what happened a few weeks ago?"
Josh's genuine smile falls a bit and he stares down at the grass in front of us. "Yeah, he told me and my parents about it. He was pretty upset about what happened, seeing as how Adam talked about you a lot. But he was more upset about what happened to Cole."
A lump quickly takes from in my throat. "I-Is Cole...?" I start to ask.
"Cole's fine, thanks for asking. He just got a small cut above his eye and was a bit scared for a little while because he knew that he was going to need stitches. But Ryan told him that a lot of people think scars are cool, and Cole was back to his old self."
A small amount of relief fills my body, but not enough to leave me guilt-free. "Are Ryan and Nate mad at me for what happened?" I ask.
"Well, they weren't too happy when you called them both faggots right in front of their kid, but they both know that not everyone will accept that they're gay. They're stronger than you think, so another guy not liking them because they're gay doesn't mean too much to them. I think it hit Adam harder than it did them."
And the lump quickly doubles in size. "How's Adam doing?"
Josh sighs to himself. "He's been a bit down the last few weeks. You must've meant a lot to him for his personality to take such a steep fall. Adam's had a very warm and open personality ever since I met him ten years ago when Nate and Ryan got married, although it got off to a rocky start. He's a smiling kind of guy, but I haven't seen him smile in a while."
Josh is only making this lump in my throat get bigger and bigger. "Look, Josh," I say. "I'm really sorry about what I said to Nate and Ryan and what I did to Cole. Me knocking Cole into my coffee table was an accident and I didn't understand what I was saying when Ryan and Nate were over at my place."
"Do you understand it now?"
"I'm starting to, but I'm still fuzzy on a few things. I'm spending time with Greg and I'm starting to see what gay people do on a daily basis. It's a slow process, but I think I'm making a bit of improvement."
Josh nods. "That's good to hear. And you do know he prefers to be called Gregory, right?"
"I do, but I've called him Greg ever since I first met him in high school."
"Oh, you two were friends?"
I look down at the grass, the lump in my throat still there. "Um...no. I actually used to...bully Greg a lot back in high school and I knew calling him Greg bugged him. But now, I can't seem to break out of the habit of it and start calling him Gregory."
Josh lets out a sigh. "Gregory mentioned to me a long time ago that he had a bully in high school, but I never thought it would be a player of the team he coaches."
"I had a similar thought when I found out that he was the new coach of the Kings."
"So where do you and Gregory stand now?"
"I think we're at an understanding with one another, learning each other's role on the team while working together to make the team stronger and...maybe starting to become sort of friends? We have a history together and although he's forgiven me for everything I did, I can't help but feel horrible about everything I did to him."
Josh places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a few pats. "Well, at least you've come to understand that you were in the wrong when you guys were in high school. But I hope you guys can start to become even closer at time goes on."
I nod my head a few times. All of a sudden, the air fills with the loud, aggressive beats of 'Turn It Up!' I look over at Josh and see him reaching into his bag and pulling out a cell phone. "Sorry about this," he says.
He taps the screen once and holds the phone to his ear. "Hello? Oh, hey Brian! How's the album coming along? Well, even though you only have a few songs done, it'll sound great when it comes out. I can't wait. So what's up? Oh shit, you're kidding me. He's done? Like, permanently? Brian, that's terrible. So what're you going to do?"
As Josh continues to talk on his cell phone, I feel a buzz come from my bag. I reach in and pull out my cell phone and find a Twitter update on my screen. I see it's a tweet from Our Name Is... I unlock my phone and look over the message.
'It's with great sadness that we announce that, three days ago, our lead guitarist Mitch Cardoso chose to retire from Our Name Is...'
My stomach drops at the news. Mitch is retiring? Fucking shit. Motherfucking shit. "Oh, really?" I hear Josh say. "You've already found someone new?" I hear Josh say next to me. "Is he or she any good? Oh, wow. To get that much praise from you, he must be amazing."
My phone buzzes again and I see another tweet.
'We love Mitch and respect his decision. We've managed to find a new lead guitarist in the time since Mitch's decision. His identity will stay hidden until our next tour.'
A new guitarist so quickly? But who can replace Mitch? The guy was a fucking demon when it came to the guitar. Another tweet pops onto my screen.
'And even though Mitch will not be performing anymore, he will become a head record producer for the band with Justin Robinson.'
I breathe a small sigh of relief. At least Mitch isn't leaving the band completely. "Okay, Brian," Josh continues. "I hope you and the new guy can finish the album soon. Tell Mitch I wish him luck working with Justin. Talk to you soon."
My heart stops for a second as Josh slips his phone back into his bag. "Sorry about that," he says.
I stare at Josh in shock for several seconds. "W-Were you just talking to Brian Mosley?" I ask.
Josh smiles brightly. "Sure was."
My head practically explodes from excitement. "JESUS CHRIST!! I can't fucking believe this! I love Our Name Is...! I have every single one of their songs!"
Josh laughs at my excitement. "Brian and I have been friends since high school and we're still great friends to this day. It's the same with Justin Robinson. I remember when those two first started dating in our senior year. They were adorable together."
I slowly come down from my high. "It still sucks that Mitch decided to leave."
"Brian told me that Mitch had talked to him about it before, telling Brian that he wanted to venture into the world of music production rather than just playing music. It's a good thing he's going to still be involved with the band, though."
I nod in agreement and rise off the bleacher. "I need to get back to the bus. I'm holding everyone up."
Josh stands up with me. "Sorry about keeping you so long. Guess I lost track of time."
"No worries. I enjoyed sitting and talking with you."
Josh flashes his movie star smile and holds out a hand. "It was good to meet you, Tanner. I hope everything with Adam is settled soon. I want to see my brother in law smiling again."
I smile in return and give Josh a firm handshake. As I turn to leave, I see Josh sitting back down on the bleachers. "Aren't you done for the day too?" I ask.
"No, my day isn't over just yet. I'm helping my old high school football team get ready for the upcoming season. They should be here soon."
"Okay. Thanks for all you help today, Josh. It really helped all of us."
"Just be sure to lead the Kings to a Stanley Cup championship. And I'm glad you and Gregory are becoming better friends. When he and I first met, he had a lot of sadness in him. Getting friends really helped him to become the guy he is today. And I think having you as a friend to him will help him even more, Tanner."
I smile and turn and walk toward the team bus, where everyone sits waiting. I climb up and see Greg looking up at me. "What took you?" he asks.
"I was just talking to Josh for a little while about a few things. You and he are really good friends, aren't you?"
Greg smiles. "He was one of the first friends I made at Stanford, and is one of my closest friends even now. And even though he's one of the country's most popular football players, he's still the most selfless man I know. See?"
Greg points behind me and I see Josh standing in the middle of a large group of boys, all of them wearing football pads and looking up at Josh in awe. Josh stands and smiles down at all the boys, not even minding as every single one talks a mile a minute. "He cares about his fans," I say.
"More than anything," Greg says. "Go ahead and take a seat. Everyone's ready to head back to Los Angeles."
I turn and walk up the aisle of the bus and take a seat next to Gunnar, who seems to have passed out and is sleeping with his face pressed against the glass of the window. I take advantage of the situation and snap a quick photo of him to laugh at later as the bus starts up and we head back to L.A.
The bus pulls into the parking lot of the Toyota Sports Center and comes to a stop, bringing everyone out of their exhausted dazes. "We're back!" I hear Greg yell out. "The sooner you're off, the sooner we can finish up and get home!"
With a few grunts and moans, we all rise up with our stuff and step off the bus. Greg stands in front of us with the rest of the coaching and training staff to the side. "You all did incredibly well today," Greg tells us. "I'm seeing a lot of improvement in all of you, but there's still room to get better, and I will make sure you all will be the best in the league.
"Remember, no practice tomorrow, so be sure to rest up for Monday. We're back here, so bring all your gear with you. If there aren't any other issues we need to discuss, you're all dismissed. I'll see you Monday."
Everyone starts to disperse, when someone calls my name. "Tanner," Greg says. "Stay behind for a minute."
I turn back around walk back to Greg, leaving only him and myself. "What's up, Coach Natick?" I ask.
"Off the clock, Tanner. Gregory's fine."
"Okay, so what's up?"
"I was wondering if you're spending the day with me tomorrow. You did it last Saturday and Sunday, so I'm just checking to see what it is you want to do."
I see a small glimmer in Greg's amber eyes, almost like a dog waiting for a treat for being good. It makes me feel that...Greg wants me to spend the day with him. I think back to Josh's words from earlier. "I think having you as a friend will help him even more, Tanner."
There's also a part of me that wants to spend time with Greg. "Yeah, I'd love to," I say. "Rock's Gym tomorrow morning at 7:00?"
Greg's face lights up with a smile that causes my heart to skip a beat. "Perfect," he says. "I'll meet you there and we can go from there. But tomorrow, maybe we could do stuff you'd want to do, Tanner. Ever since we first started this spending the day with each other thing, we've only done what I usually do and you've tagged along.
"So maybe we could do what it is you want to do during the day tomorrow."
The notion takes me by surprise. "Yeah, I'd like that," I say. "Greg, I really appreciate you helping me as much as you have, despite our differences in the past."
"It's nothing, Tanner. I feel that this is helping you become a better person by you seeing that a gay guy is spending his day doing the same mundane things a straight person would do."
"But I feel like I've been taking a bit of advantage of you, so I'd like to offer you a proposal." Greg's ears perk and his eyebrows twitch a bit. "I'm going to my parents' house for dinner three weeks from tomorrow and my younger brother and sister are coming too so we can all catch up. Would you like to come over too? My parents love company and both they and my younger siblings have been asking about you. So would you be interested?"
Greg's eyebrows rise again and he thinks about it for a minute. "It sounds like fun," he says with a smile. "I haven't had a home-cooked meal prepared for me in ages."
"It's a date then."
My lungs suddenly search for air. Did that just slip out of my mouth? I feel my pulse quicken a bit and my face turns a little pink. I'm about to turn away a little when I see Greg's face. It looks to be a light shade of red and his eyes are wide. "I uh...I-I'll see you tomorrow," I quickly say.
"Y-Yeah, see you, Tanner."
I turn and hurriedly turn in the direction of my car, my face still warm from blushing so hard. I slip into the driver's seat and toss my bag into the passenger seat before pressing my palms to my eyes. Why the fuck did I say that? Could I have used a worse term? God knows what Greg is thinking right now.
My hands rub my eyes and I turn my car on and head back to my apartment. The whole drive, my face continues to burn from both embarrassment, and...something else. I can't put my finger of it, but...I think I like the way it feels. This warm feeling in my chest, the butterflies in my stomach, and pounding in my head, what is this?
My mind zones out as I drive back to my apartment and I'm back before I even know it. I grab my stuff and step out of my car and to the elevator, riding up to my floor. Still thinking things over, I pull my apartment key out of my pocket and slide it into the lock and turn it, and I'm about to open the door when I suddenly stop.
Okay, I know I locked my door when I left this morning, so why does it feel like my door was unlocked before I even got here? I very slowly open the door to my apartment and stick my head in ever so slightly. I take a quick look around and see that nothing appears to be disturbed, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand of end. Someone's been here, or might even still be here.
I slowly step back out into the hallway and shut the door before pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. I tap the screen a few times and hold it to my ear, hearing the dial tone for a few seconds as I step away from my apartment. "911," says a male voice on the other end of the line. "What is the state of your emergency?"
"Hi, I think someone may have broken into my apartment."
"Okay, may I ask for your name?"
"Tanner White."
The other end of the line is silent for a moment. "Go Kings," he says. "May I ask what makes you feel like someone may have broken into your apartment?"
"My door was unlocked when I came back after I locked it this morning. I may just be paranoid, but may I just have a police officer come back and check things out for me please?"
"Of course. Always better safe than sorry. What is your address?" I quickly tell him my apartment building and number. "Okay, we'll send an officer down there and he or she will be there in the next few minutes."
"Thank you."
"Hope the Kings have a great season."
I hang up the phone and lean against the wall of the hallway, patiently waiting for the officer. About five minutes later, the elevator dings and I see a uniformed female officer step out of the elevator and she sees me. "Did you make the 911 call?" she asks, all business.
"Yes, officer. Apartment 1218."
She nods once and I lead her to the door. "You said you think someone may have broken into your apartment?"
"Yes, ma'am. It was unlocked when I came back even though I know I locked it this morning."
"Well, better to trust your instincts than to find someone you don't know in your home. Just stay out in the hallway while I take a look around."
I nod once and watch as she slowly enters my apartment, leaving the door open for me to see. She quietly walks around my apartment, looking for any signs that someone was here. She walks in the directions of the bedrooms and out of sight and I lean back against the wall, waiting for the all clear from her.
What I get two seconds later is not what I was expecting. "Let me see your hands!" I hear the officer yell.
"Wait, please!" a male voice yells. "I live here!"
Oh crap. I know that voice. I turn and rush inside the apartment and run toward the bedrooms. I run inside the second one and splayed out on the floor with the officer sitting on his large back handcuffing him is Adam. "Adam?!" I say.
The officer looks up at me. "You know this man?"
"He's my roommate. Or was, before he moved out about a month ago."
"Christ, these things hurt!" Adam yells. "Do you have any bigger handcuffs?"
I look down at Adam's wrists and see that they're starting to turn red from the handcuffs barely being able to close around his large wrists. "You can let him go," I tell the officer. "He has a key to the apartment and is allowed in here."
The officer nods and unlocks the handcuffs, freeing Adam's wrists and she steps off him. Adam stands up and rubs his wrists, looking to be in a bit of pain. "I take it you don't want to press charges?" the officer asks me.
"No, it's fine. Thank you anyway for coming. I'll walk you to the elevator."
The officer and I walk out of Adam's old room and out of the apartment and to the elevator. "Big guy," she says. "He seems like a gentle giant, though."
"He is when he isn't pissed. When he is pissed, he can punch you so hard your jaw will shatter. His opponents in the octagon have the injuries to prove it."
The officer laughs and steps into the elevator before the doors close. I turn and walk back to my apartment, where I see Adam standing in the middle of the living room, looking unsure of himself. "Adam, what're you doing here?" I ask.
"I wanted to talk to you."
"And breaking into my apartment was the way to try and talk to me?"
"It's my apartment too."
"You moved out."
"Yeah, well I'm moving back in."
His words surprise me. I let out a long sigh and look back at my hulking friend. "I think we need to talk." Adam nods and steps over to the couch, me following behind him, and we both fall onto the cushions. "I want to talk back what happened when Nate, Ryan, and Cole came for a visit."
Adam nods again. "I wanted to talk about that too."
I gather my thoughts together for a few moments and look down at the hardwood floor. "Adam, I'm so sorry about what I said to your brother and Ryan. I...didn't understand what it meant for someone to be gay, so I reacted horribly to finding out about your brother and brother in law. I was a dick, a douche, and an asshole.
"And I'm sorry about what happened with Cole. I didn't mean to kick him into the coffee table, but when he hit me, my reflex kicked in and I bumped him and he fell back into the table. But that's no excuse for it happening in the first place. Cole would never have gotten hurt had I just...learned a bit more about being gay when Ryan and Nate were here.
"But I'm getting help and am starting to learn more about gay people. It's a slow process and there's a lot for me to learn, but I think I'm starting to get it. I'm reworking my philosophy so that I can try and make it more accepting of other people, and although it hurts to change it after so long, I'm managing to fix it one word at a time."
I pause for a second to catch my breath. "It's really sucked not having you here, Adam. The apartment is so lonely without another person here, and...I really want you to move back in with me. I-I know what I said to Nate and Ryan was unforgiveable, but if we could just..."
My voice is cut off by two anaconda-sized arms wrapping around me and pulling me into a very hard hug. "I missed you too, Tanner," Adam quietly says.
Pure, wonderful relief floods my body and I hug Adam back, barely managing to get my arms around his large back. Adam pulls away after a minute and stares right at me. "This last month has sucked for me too. I love my brother, but hearing his alarm going off at 6:30 every morning so he can get his day started was staring to get on my nerves.
"And Cole really likes to come into my room when I'm trying to...take a nap. I love the kid, but I don't think Nate and Ryan have taught him the values of privacy yet. But at least I didn't have to talk to him after he came in the first time."
I bite my lip to keep myself from laughing at hearing Cole walked in on Adam jerking off. "I'm sorry too, Tanner. I should've told you about Nate and Ryan a long time ago. Maybe then things would've ended a bit differently when they came to visit. And I'm sorry about tackling and almost punching you.
"Ryan explained to me that reflex you have when something hits your knee in the right spot, and Cole hit the spot dead on. I felt horrible after I heard that, learning that I almost punched my best friend for something he didn't even mean to do. I just acted on instinct when I saw Cole fall onto the coffee table."
I nod a bit. "How is Cole, by the way?"
"He's still his happy, hyper self. I think when he fell onto the table he was more scared that he was bleeding than it actually hurting him."
"Um...does he...you know, hate me for it?"
Adam chuckles softly. "Cole doesn't hate anybody. He was just upset that you were insulting Ryan and Nate. He forgot what happened the second he got a lollipop after getting the stitches for the cut."
At least I didn't make a 7 year old kid hate me. "So...all is forgiven?" I ask.
Adam smiles and hugs me again, much softer this time. "Yeah, we're good, Tanner."
He and I just sit and hug for a minute or two before we slap each other's back and sit back into the couch. "At least this couch is big enough for me to sit in," Adam says.
"Was the one at Ryan and Nate's too small?"
"It's big enough for two people as long as one of them has Cole sitting on their lap. It's not big enough for a six foot eight giant whose ass is easily 30% larger than a normal person's."
A bark of laughter escapes my lungs. "So when can you move back in?"
Adam scratches the back of his head in bashfulness. "Um...I kind of already moved back in." I raise an eyebrow. "That's part of the reason the officer found me in my bedroom. I was putting my stuff back where it belongs."
"How'd you get all your stuff back here? The room was stripped bare when I looked in it the day after you moved out."
"Adam! We got the rest of your stuff from our house!" The voice comes from outside the apartment door. "Open the door! This stuff's heavy!"
Adam rises off the couch, glances over at me and walks to the door. He opens it and I see three people in the hallway, three people who, the last time I saw them, I treated like shit. Nate, Ryan and Cole step into the apartment and immediately see me sitting on the couch. "Um...hi," I awkwardly say.
"Hi, Tanner," Ryan politely says. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"It's my apartment."
Ryan makes a face that tells me he's mentally kicking himself for his lapse of common sense. I see that both he and ate are holding large boxes in their arms while Cole's holding a small box himself. "Do you need any help with those?" I ask, rising off the couch.
"Um...we still have a few more boxes outside where my car's parked," Nate says. "If you wouldn't mind..."
"Not at all. Just lead the way"
The next ten minutes pass in uncomfortable silence, with us going back down to the ground floor to grab the last of Adam's boxes and bringing them back up to the apartment. I notice that every time I look at Cole, he goes to hide behind one of his dad's legs. It makes my chest tighten seeing a little boy being so scared of me.
We set the last of the boxes down in the living room and I dust off my hands. "I forgot you had so much stuff, Adam," I say. "How much protein powder do you have?"
"Only a year's supply since that commercial I did a few months ago."
I sigh to myself and look over at Ryan and Nate, who seem to be a bit uncomfortable. "Look," I say. "I need to apologize to the both of you. What I said a month ago was disrespectful, hurtful, and overall, terrible. I was under the belief that all gay people were the weakest kind of people out there, but I was wrong.
"A friend of mine showed me that gay people and straight people are no different when it comes to things like masculinity. He's probably one of the strongest people I know and has gone through more things in his life than I can even begin to understand. I would've thought that things like that would have kept him down, but they didn't.
"No matter what you throw at him, he just gets right back up, stronger than before. That showed me that gay people can be strong too, just like straight people. I'm still working on learning how gay and straight people are no different, but I'm getting better. I'm sorry and I hope you two can forgive me for what happened a month ago."
Nate and Ryan glance at one another before looking down at the floor. "Cole, what do you think we should do?" Ryan asks his son.
I look down at Cole, who's clutching the pant leg of Nate. He slowly walks forward, looking a little scared as he approaches me. He looks up at me and I look into his light grey eyes. "Why did you kick me?" he softly asks.
Exhaling quietly, I kneel down so I'm just above eye level for Cole. "Cole, I'm sorry I kicked you, but it honestly was an accident. Here, let me show you. Come and sit on my knee."
Cole steps over and sits down on my knee, looking over his shoulder at me. "Cole, what happened when you hit my knee?" I ask.
"Um...your leg kicked a little bit and I fell into the table."
"Right. What happened was you hit my knee in a spot that makes a person kick a bit when that spot is hit." I reach around and hold my hand in front of Cole's leg, which is dangling in the air as he sits on my knee. "I'm going to give your knee a small tap. Keep it completely relaxed."
Cole nods and looks down at my hand, which I've balled into a light fist. With a quick jab, I tap Cole's knee and his leg jerks forward. There's a second of silence before I hear a giggle come out of Cole. "Do it again!" he says, laughing.
I laugh myself and give Cole's knee another tap, making it kick again and causing more infectious giggles to come out of the young boy. I grab him underneath his arms and set him back down on the floor. "See Cole? I didn't mean to kick you. But when you hit my knee, what happened to you happened to me. I'm sorry you got hurt. Can you forgive me?"
Cole smiles brightly, showing me that he's lost another baby tooth since I last saw him. "Uh huh!"
He takes a step forward and, faster than I can react, wraps his small arms around my neck and hugs me, filling my stomach with a warm, bubbly feeling. I laugh and return Cole hug before standing back up with him in my arms. "So are we good?" I ask Ryan and Nate.
The two smile at me holding their son. "Yeah, we're good," Nate says. "If our son can forgive you, we can too."
"You seem to have changed a lot since w last saw you, Tanner," Ryan says. "You seem...more open to the world and less clouded. It's a hell of an improvement from the jerk we first met."
"Hey!" I say in protest.
"You were a jerk, Tanner," Nate says in agreement.
Cole giggles in my arms at seeing everyone ganging up on me. I hand him over to Ryan and crack my knuckles. "How about we all go out to dinner or something?" I say. "I'm too tired to cook anything."
"What have you cooked besides anything that requires a microwave?" Adam asks.
"I make a mean bowl of cereal."
Adam smacks his forehead and Nate does the same. I've seen Adam smack his forehead more times than I can count, but I never knew it was a family trait. "Dinner would be great," Ryan says. "Would we be able to go somewhere where Cole can get something he'll like?"
"My friends own a great sports bar not too far from here. The food is really good and the atmosphere is even better."
"It's been a while since I saw A.J. and Ulrich, so I'm in," says Adam.
"As long as I can get a drink, I'll be happy," Nate says. "Moving all of Adam's stuff here was a chore."
"Oh man up," Adam tells his brother.
"Let me just take a quick shower and I'll be back out in about twenty minutes," I say. "It's good to have you back, Adam."
Adam smiles and gives me another crushing hug and keeping me from breathing for a few seconds. He sets me back down and I turn and head down the hallway to my bedroom. As I close the door behind me, I smile to myself, feeling the relief of having my closest friend again.


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Includes four each: studs, nuts and washers.Pit Stop USA offers Trans-Dapt Carburetor Stud Kit - 3" Long x 5, 16" Coarse, Fine Thread 2106 at low everyday prices. Be sure to check out all of our products from Trans-Dapt Performance including Trans-Dapt Performance Carburetor Stud Kits.
- 86923021063
- Trans-Dapt Performance
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- 0.3 lbs.
- W3.4000" x H0.9000" x L6.1500"
- Ships from Michigan.
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