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You lose up to 100 hairs from your scalp every day. That's normal, and in most people, those hairs grow back. But many men -- and some women -- lose hair as they grow older. You can also lose your hair if you have certain diseases, such as thyroid problems, diabetes, or lupus. If you take certain medicines or have chemotherapy for cancer, you may also lose your hair. Other causes are stress, a low protein diet, a family history, or poor nutrition. Read more on MedlinePlus.gov.
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NEW YORK — "Did you think I'd forgotten you?" asks Francis Underwood, addressing us viewers near the end of the second-season "House of Cards" debut. Then he roguishly adds, "Perhaps you hoped I had."
As if!
Portrayed by series star Kevin Spacey, Underwood, the soon-to-be-sworn-in vice president, has a delicious way of conspiring with the audience in his Beltway depravity: a sly aside, a knowing roll of his eyes, a caustic pronouncement shared only with us.
Though many of the first-season batch of episodes are sparked with Underwood's in-our-face declarations, he keeps his own counsel until late in this second-season kickoff.
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"There is but one rule," he reminds us in its final moments — "hunt or be hunted."
Happily for us, another 12 new episodes keep Underwood on the hunt as Netflix releases the full second season on its website Feb. 14.
Set in Washington, D.C., in the current day, "House of Cards" is a loose reinvention of the 1990s British political thriller of the same name.
It premiered a year ago and instantly established Netflix as a bold new contender in the world of original video, stealing thunder from such august cable networks as HBO and AMC while landing the first major Emmy nominations for a streaming-video series.
Now Underwood, formerly a ranking U.S. Congressman, has plotted his way into the vice presidency. But there's no hint he's satisfied with that lofty perch, if the first four hours made available for preview are any indication. Even as he faces growing threats that could lead to his downfall, he's driven to climb higher, whatever it takes.
"That's the interesting thing about Francis: He has no allegiance, not even to party," says Spacey.
Actually, Underwood does seem to have a precious pair of allegiances: to his own accumulation of power and to his wife, Claire, his loyal partner-in-crime, played by Robin Wright (who last month won a Golden Globe for her performance).
"I love the fact that the new season is coming out on Valentine's Day," says Spacey, 54, puckishly. "I think their relationship is incredibly romantic.
"There is so much I don't know about Francis, so much that I'm learning," adds Spacey, clearly pleased to be granted even more time to explore him: Netflix recently announced plans for a third season.
Spacey's midcareer entry into series stardom comes after many distinguished films, including "L.A. Confidential," "Glengarry Glen Ross," "Se7en" and "Recount," as well as "The Usual Suspects" and "American Beauty," for which he won his two Oscars. Since 2003, he has focused on stage work as the artistic director of London's Old Vic Theatre.
Spacey's many Old Vic collaborations include the title role in Shakespeare's "Richard III," whose diabolical champion, he notes, served as a template for the "House of Cards" hero.
"I absolutely know that without the work I've done at the Old Vic," says Spacey, "I wouldn't have been ready to do Francis Underwood."

subset: commoncrawl


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I walked into the shower, casual as could be, and turned on the shower closest to the entrance. I was foolish to think I would be safer closer to the door but that's the one I took. But the shower didn't work. I tried another and another, till I found one near the back that brought forth a spray of warm water. Justin was there, under a shower on the opposite side, and I almost left. But it would have been too obvious, and when I gave a furtive glance in his direction, trying not to look at his magnificent, muscular body, but looking anyway, I stayed. I adjusted the temperature and stood with my back to him, my head tilted up into the spray. I soaked up the warmth for several minutes then punched the soap dispenser. It was empty. I reached over to the next dispenser and punched it, but it was empty too and I swore under my breath. I heard the rapid punching of Justin's dispenser behind me.
"Here, I tried `em all, and they're all empty except mine," he said, his voice suddenly closer behind me. "Gonna have to get on Billie's ass about that."
I knew how he and the other guys would do that. Billie was the towel boy; that's what they called him. He was the coach's assistant. He laundered the towels and whatever else he found laying around the locker room, and cleaned the place and kept the soap dispensers filled, or was supposed to. I thought they abused Billie but he didn't seem to mind all the indignities they heaped on him. He worshipped the hunky athletes, and reveled in their attention; in a way, much the same as I did. I turned to find Justin standing close, holding out his cupped hands full of liquid soap. I put my hands out for the soap but much to my surprise he put his hands up and dumped it on my chest and quickly rubbed it over my chest before it all ran down.
"Thanks," I said in a hoarse voice.
"Yeah," he grunted as he turned away from me.
My chest tightened at the sight of him walking back to his shower; his round, tight butt, his incredibly muscular legs, the wide, muscle-heaped shoulders. He took my breath away, and I think he knew it. He was so intimidating; both his overall size and muscularity, and specifically the size of his cock. I turned to face the wall again; I felt safer if I did not look at him. I didn't hurry so it would be noticed, but I didn't linger unnecessarily. I waited for the suds I'd worked up to wash down my body. I waited...I waited, to see if he was going to do anything. If he did, there was nothing I could do about it. He out-weighed me by a good forty pounds, and it was all rock-solid muscle. Rippling, beautiful, hard muscle. If he did, well, I would submit like I always did. Part of me wanted him to; maybe that was the reason I didn't rush. Truth, I said I didn't linger unnecessarily, but I could've left the shower sooner than I did. A lot of me wanted him to try something; despite the risk and the pain I knew he would cause. If he got rough, it could be worse, but I had endured it before. I heard a noise from the locker room and jumped.
"It's just Coach Baldwin coming in," Justin said.
Yes, Coach Baldwin. I was sure he knew about what sometimes went on in the showers. He never came back to the showers, but more than once he had seen Justin come back into the locker room, dripping wet, and me, a few minutes behind him; just the two of us back there, too often to be coincidental. Yeah, he knew what went on back there, and in that, gave his approval, just like he never said anything about the way they treated Billie. I was pretty sure the coach knew I was gay, but he chose not to make an issue of it, and I think that was partly because he thought I might be handy to have around for his players to get their satisfaction and work off their frustrations. I wasn't doing that; so far, it was only Justin, but I think he thought I was. I jumped at the feel of Justin's hand on my butt.
"Didn't mean to scare you," he said huskily.
Nothing else was said. I knew what he wanted; what he was going to do. He smoothed his big hands all over my butt, squeezing the taut muscles with his big, thick fingers that wrapped so easily around a football, now probing between my buns. His hands were slick with liquid soap. I let out a little gasp when he touched my asshole with the tip of his finger.
Dreading it or wanting it, I was ready for him. Okay, I guess I did linger on purpose; hell I had even flushed out for him, just in case. He would find me squeaky clean, as always. He didn't like it if he pulled his cock out of my ass and he wasn't clean, so I began coming to the showers prepared for any eventuality. He shoved his strong, thick finger deep inside me, probing for the spot that he knew would drive me crazy and get me all primed for him. I gasped and whined like a baby when he found my prostate. He knew right where to go and what to do to get me going. In no time, he had me squirming around on his long, meaty finger, twisting my hips around, moaning and thrusting my butt back against his hand. I waited for him to use the second finger.
Fuck! I whispered to myself when he shoved them both inside me. He had big, long, thick fingers. Two of his fingers felt like a small cock. His cock would feel like a stallion. He probed my ass with both fingers, gouging deep, then found my prostate again. I was practically dancing on the balls of my feet, squirming around on his hand. I could hardly stand it when he did that. He could make me come just doing that to my prostate but he didn't know that, and he didn't ever spend enough time doing it to get me off, for which I was glad. If he did, he would go right ahead and fuck me even if I shot off. He pulled his fingers out and I glanced over my shoulder to see him walking back to his shower.
He's not leaving me like this, I thought frantically. I was scared of being fucked, and of being caught, but God, I would go nuts if he left me high and dry. But he punched the soap dispenser and came back with a handful of soap that he spread over his cock and between my buns. I looked over my shoulder to watch him lube up his cock. It was huge and beautiful; awesome, thick. The size...it was at least nine inches long, and as thick as my wrist. I was glad that it wasn't as thick as Justin's wrist. The head was enormous; fuck, it looked the size of a baseball.
He gently kicked my feet wider apart and pressed his hand against the small of my back, urging me to take my stance. I knew how he wanted me; we'd done it enough times. I stood with my hands against the tiled wall, my back arched, my butt jutted out to him. He liked for me to arch my back because he said it tilted my butt up just right. He rinsed the soap off his hands and clasped them around my hipbones to hold me fast as he shoved his cock between my slick buns. The head found its way--it had been there many times--and pushed anxiously at my hole. I braced myself, cringing already in anticipation of the pain that I knew was coming. I tried to focus past it, to the intense pleasure that would follow, but always the fright of the pain stood in the way till it was past. He pushed hard and with a soft grunt the head of his cock slipped through my hole.
"UUUhnnnnnnn," I moaned softly, throwing my head back. No matter how many times, I was never prepared for that initial burst of pain.
"Yeah, you know it's gonna hurt going in," he said apologetically.
It always hurt like hell when he shoved it through my hole; so bad I thought I might pass out. But I knew it would pass and then start to feel good in a minute or two when he buried it in deep. I prayed for the seconds to pass, and counted them down. I cringed with my eyes tightly shut, sucking in quiet gasps of air, trying to ride it out as his huge cock burrowed up inside me. I never ceased to wonder where it all went, but he was skilled at dodging any obstacles in his way and lodging it hard and deep in my guts. I counted the seconds as I was slowly impaled on the big club, till I felt his hard, hairy lower abs pressed against my spread butt, for I knew when I felt that, the pain would quickly subside.
"Fuck, yeah, you're hot and tight as ever," he said as he pulled back on my hipbones to lock us tightly together. He held us tight for a moment, causing his big cock to buck and throb inside me; so tight that I couldn't move, and I wanted to. He was in me and the pain was subsiding and I wanted him to fuck me, or me fuck him. I wanted to move around on his cock, to make it rub against all the nerve endings, and to slide across my prostate. Finally, he loosened his grip, eased back and drove his cock back in and began to fuck me.
"Ohhh, Godddd," I gasped as I rode back on his cock, clawing at the cool tiles on the wall.
"Yeah, you like it, don't you?"
"You know I do," I said.
"You always act like you're afraid of me; afraid I'm going to come over to you."
"Wouldn't you be if you had that horse cock of yours facing you?" I said.
"But you like it," he said as he sloshed his cock in and out of me.
"Yes, but I dread it going in."
"I could use some of that stuff that numbs your ass but it would also numb my cock and we would be here till Tuesday," he said.
"I don't think my ass could take that much drilling with your cock," I said.
"Then we gotta do it the way we do it," he said. The way he said it, it was like fucking my ass was his God-given right, that I was put on earth for this purpose and he was preordained to fuck me any time he pleased. Maybe he was right.
Little by little I leaned over, clawing my way down the tiled wall, hunkering back onto his cock, till I was bent over with my shoulders against the wall. I grabbed one of my ankles and pressed my right shoulder against the wall to keep my balance. I was able to watch Justin's hairy legs between mine as he thrust his cock in me. I reached back between my legs and grasped one of his calves. It was rock-hard, bulging as he rose up on the balls of his feet with each thrust. I took hold of his heavy balls with my other hand.
"Aww, yeah, squeeze 'em," he groaned.
"Hey, when you're done back here, Justin, I need to see you before you take off," came the voice from the doorway.
I cringed at the sound of the coach's voice. It was the first time he'd ever come back to the showers when he knew Justin was back there and I wondered why this time. I was appalled to see his frame in the doorway.
"Yes, sir, coach," Justin said without missing a stroke.
The coach stood in the doorway and watched us for a moment. I saw his hand drop to the front of his jeans but it didn't linger. Then he turned and left.
"So he does know," I said.
"Sure he knows. Does that bother you?"
"I would've preferred to believe he didn't," I said.
Justin laughed. "He's known for quite a while. He says it's good for us, to get our rocks off and relieve the pressure. Which by the way, I'm gonna have to do," he said as he increased his speed and started slamming his cock into me. "Coach says he wants to see me, he don't like to be kept waiting."
"Ohhh...Ohhh...Ohhh, fuck!" I groaned with the sudden roughness. Justin was usually gentle, but I liked his rough side as well. It was like he owned me; like I was his slave and he could fuck me any way he damn well pleased, and I didn't mind that.
"I'm gonna come in a minute," he warned.
"Can I have your load this time, if you can pull out?" I asked.
"You want it in your mouth?"
"Yes. I haven't had it that way for a long time."
"Sure, any way you want it. I like shooting in your mouth and on your face, and watching you swallow it," he said. "You gotta swallow it if I give it to you that way."
"Yes, I will. You know I will," I said.
I hadn't planned on swallowing his come but I would now because that's what Justin wanted and he would be watching to see that I did. One thing he didn't like was to see his precious semen washing across the floor and swirling down the drain. I thought it odd that he thought it was so precious; fuck, he got it off so often, wasted it much of the time. When I sucked him off, on my knees under a shower, I liked to get a mouthful of warm semen and work it around in my mouth then let the shower spray gurgle and wash the come out, but he didn't like that. Swallowing it pure, I had a hard time getting the stuff down; it was so thick, and there was so much of it. Even when he shot on my face, he quickly scooped it up with his fingers and fed it to me before the shower spray could wash it off. I always tried to keep my hands off my own cock when I was doing Justin because I got too hot and excited and I didn't want to go off before he did, because without the desire, it was even harder to swallow his semen. Now, I wrapped one hand around my cock and started jacking off. I wanted to come with him.
"Ohh, fuck...fuck, here it comes!" he announced as he thrust harder.
"Give it to me," I reminded him.
"Yeah...fuck...just a couple...more strokes...Ohh, Ohhhhhhh."
Suddenly he pulled his cock out of my ass and I quickly turned around and dropped to my knees in front of him. He clasped one hand on top of my head and thrust his hips forward as he pounded his big meat with his fist. I opened my mouth wide to give him an easy target. Suddenly his cock erupted, sending a thick rope of semen sailing across the space between us that landed squarely in my mouth.
"Fuck, bull's eye!" Justin exclaimed.
He hit another bull's eye, and another, then his legs began shaking and his hand was unsteady and he was splattering come all over my face. Several more shots landed in my mouth then he shoved his cock in my mouth to finish off. I wallowed his warm, thick semen around his belching cock then opened my mouth for what was left that he'd scooped up to feed me.
"Oh, fuck, man, you really know how to bring a guy off," he gasped.
He didn't linger as he usually did, to let me suck and drain every drop of his precious man juice out of him. He pulled his cock out and walked back to his shower to wash off. I knelt there with my head laid back, jacking myself off as I savored the taste of the big stud's semen. As I got closer, I jacked harder, and I started groaning and whimpering with the pleasure that was building up in me. I wasn't going to open my mouth and let the shower spray gush in and dilute the precious nectar that was left on my tongue. I wanted to savor it. Finally, the dam burst and I started coming and swallowing the last of Justin's load at the same time. I was in a dark, steamy cloud of ecstasy as I trembled through my climax, oblivious of all else around me.
"Fuck, you really shoot."
I blinked my eyes open as I was aware of Justin's big hand squeezing my shoulder, to see him still standing right beside me, watching me jack off and shoot my load. I was glad he'd stayed to watch me but he didn't linger.
"Be sure and rinse down the shower floor before you leave; that stuff's slick and somebody's liable to fall," he told me as he left the shower room.
After a moment to recover I managed to get to my feet and stagger back under the spray of water to finish my shower. I took my time, washing my ass good, shoving my fingers way up inside. Even after I'd shot my load, my fingers still felt good. I wouldn't have minded all that much if Justin had come back and wanted to fuck me again. Or, hell, one of the other guys. I fantasized about that, being gang fucked by a bunch of the jocks. I wondered if they ever did that to Billie.
Several weeks later...weeks without any sex or even overtures from Justin...I found myself in the shower with a bunch of the other jocks. Nothing unusual about that; it was the times when Justin and I were alone that were unusual. With the rest of the guys everything was normal; I was as straight as any of them. There was the usual banter, the vulgarity, the talk and lies about sex and I was quickly caught up in it. Till suddenly I felt a hand on my bare ass. I jumped and snapped my head around to see Justin standing there, under my shower with me, smiling. I blinked with surprise, gaped at him, thinking, no, he can't be serious...not here, not now...not with all the guys around. But his hand was still on my butt and he was squeezing it and his thumb had found its way deep into my ass crack. And to top it off, I saw the way his other hand was cupped, full of liquid soap that he fully intended to use.
"No," I said quietly, shaking my head.
"Yeah," he said. "It's your fantasy. You've mentioned it more than once. Let me get it started and you can live out your fantasy."
"No, man," I said again. I didn't know when I'd mentioned to Justin that I would like to have the experience of being had by a whole locker room full of jocks, but he had gotten the idea somewhere. "It's just a fantasy," I told him, admitting to it. We were having this conversation in undertones, as if we were the only two in the shower, but in fact there were...I quickly glanced about to count...nine other guys in the showers and that frightened me. It would turn into a nightmarish gang fuck. I wanted it to remain a fantasy for the time being, something I could jerk off to in the quiet and safety of my room. But Justin wasn't having it.
He dumped the liquid soap into his other hand then rubbed it into the crack of my ass, deep, so his slick fingers penetrated my hole. He used the other slick hand to lube up his cock.
"Don't do this, Justin," I said quietly, still not wanting to attract attention to us. I was too scared to look around and see if anyone was watching us "Please, man, don't."
But he wasn't listening. Next thing I knew, he had his hand spread out across the small of my back and was pushing down.
"Arch your back," he said, his voice a little louder. He was trying to attract the others' attention!
"Hey...take a look!" someone said quietly, and I knew we had been noticed. No way we couldn't be, even with all the thick steam. Two guys just don't get that close in the shower without being noticed, especially if one of them is bent over.
"Fuck, what's he doing?" someone asked.
"Looks like he's gonna do just that...fuck him."
"No way."
"Looks like way."
I was bent over with my face and hands pressed flat against the tile wall; the stance that I was all too familiar with. I felt tears streaming down my face; tears of embarrassment, humiliation, hell, maybe even joy. I should've escaped...I could've, I was close to the door, and Justin would not have come after me...but something held me there; a force that I was powerless to fight. I defined it later as gay lust. Yeah, gay, because it had to be obvious to every guy in the shower that this wasn't the first time this had happened; I wasn't fighting Justin off. I wasn't even protesting that much.
I closed my eyes to block out the reality of nine other guys in the shower, and braced myself for the onslaught of Justin's huge cock penetrating my hole. I was about to get fucked in front of nine other jocks and within an hour word would be all over school. But I couldn't worry about that now, and closing my eyes gave me the feeling that I was safe and alone with the big jock like all the other times; if I could not see the other naked athletes, they could not see us. But I could hear their lewd remarks, now closer, as well as their body heat as they gathered in closer around us.
Justin shoved and my asshole spread open against the pressure and he was suddenly inside me. I was no stranger to Justin's cock and I took him easily, determined and able to hide the initial pain.
"Holy Shit!" somebody said. "Did you see the way he took that?"
"Damn, Justin, how long have you been fucking that?"
Justin just laughed.
"Fuck, man, I want some of that. I never fucked a guy's ass before."
"Does he suck?" someone asked. "Maybe he would suck me while you're fucking him, and get me all primed."
"You can try it. I don't know, myself, I've always used this end," Justin said.
It sort of hurt that he said it like he was using me, but it was the truth, and I never minded. Not even now, that my fantasy was coming to life. I could sense that they were all gathered around us. Bravely, I opened my eyes to see a wall of muscular, naked, wet jocks with cocks of every size and shape being stroked, or standing out, throbbing. I didn't put a face to a cock, or body, for that matter; I didn't look up. I didn't want to see their faces.
One of the cocks came closer and rubbed against the side of my face. I could feel the slick precum. From the other side another cock more boldly rubbed across my lips and I could taste his precum.
"Wanta open up for me? Please?"
I barely hesitated. I didn't open my mouth but I let my lips go slack and he shoved his cock through. He put his hands on the side of my head and began thrusting in and out. The tears, now, were tears of happiness as I let him fuck my mouth. I was suddenly in heaven; I was in my fantasy.
Justin got off in my ass and pulled out. Another jock took his place. I surprised myself, wishing he was bigger, like Justin. I didn't know I had become so used to, or even addicted to the size of Justin's cock, and even the way he moved. I was so focused on my ass that I was taken by surprise when I felt come spurting in my mouth. I might've started to jerk away but the hands held my head in place and I became what would be the depository for all of them.
It was a gang fuck in its purest sense. I was being skewered from both ends. As one cock emptied into my mouth or my ass another quickly took its place, and I found myself anticipating the next one. I was sure I took them all at both ends, some more than once because I know I got fucked more than nine times. I lost track of the number of cocks I sucked. A couple of them tasted like cum when they where shoved into my mouth and I knew they had just pulled out of my ass and walked around in front.
It was a wonderful, exhausting time. While it was happening I gave no thought to the aftermath; what they might do or say when they were finished with me. I began to be concerned about that as they began to go back to their own showers and I was left with one cock still ramming my ass and another in my throat, which had been forcibly opened up. Moments later, I stood bent over against the wall, alone under my shower.
I straightened up, still facing the wall and punched the soap dispenser. I felt cum running out of my ass and I reached back for a feel, and found a gaping hole. I shoved two fingers through it; I think I could've shoved my fist inside my ass. I squeezed my ass muscles but it didn't close up around my fingers. I wondered how long it would take to close up.
"Man, that was fuckin' hot," someone said.
"Yeah, that was some fuckin' hot ass," said another.
They talked as if I weren't there. It sort of hurt, yet I was glad for the anonymity. Gradually, the shower emptied and I was indeed alone. Then I wasn't.
"Hey, Coach wants to see you when you're finished."
I glanced around to see Justin at the door, dressed now in his gym shorts and T-shirt and sneakers, and his baseball cap pulled low over his face.
"Okay," I said, suddenly very nervous. I couldn't imagine what he wanted; what his reaction would be to what had just gone on in the shower, for surely he knew.
"Hey...thanks. I hope you enjoyed it," Justin said. "Thanks from all the guys."
"Yeah, it was good. You're all welcome," I said, without meaning.
I lingered under the shower as I listened for the banter and the noise in the locker room to die down. I didn't want to be out there among them. When it was quiet, I turned off the water and grabbed a towel on the way out of the shower. I dried off haphazardly as I walked back to the locker room and wrapped it around my waist before I began gathering up my uniform. I folded and stacked everything neatly in a pile, set my cleats and helmet on top then I went into the coach's office.
"You wanted to see me, Coach?" I said as I walked up and set my uniform on the corner of his desk.
He looked at it, then at me, with a confused scowl. "What's this?"
"I figured that's what you want to see me about."
"No, not if this is what it looks like; looks like you're turning in your uniform," he said as he rubbed one hand over my helmet. "When I want it, I'll ask for it."
"Sit down, Ace," he said. Coach called everybody Ace when he didn't remember their names. "Well, I guess you know, now, that I know what goes on back in the showers."
"I've thought you probably did all along, but I preferred to think you didn't," I said as I sat on the old couch across from his desk. I adjusted the towel, but with one ankle cocked up on my other knee, I knew he could see under it. I had a sneaking suspicion that since he knew and he was okay with it....well, I wasn't sure what I thought.
"Well, I wanted you to know for sure that I know," he said.
"That was the first time with all of them," I said. "It's only been with Justin."
"I sort of suspected that. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about it," he said. "I want you to know I'm okay with it, whether it's just Justin or the entire team, whatever you boys do, as long as nobody gets hurt."
"I'm glad to hear you say that."
"It's good for the guys to relieve the pressure, you know how that is," he said with a smile. "As long as nobody gets hurt. What I mean is, you're not being forced into anything, are you? Justin's never forced you, has he? You weren't forced just now, were you? I wouldn't want that to happen."
I knew that what he did not want to hear that I was being forced, because then he would have to deal with it.
"No, Justin has never forced me," I said.
"They ganged you. What about that?" he asked.
"Well, I wasn't expecting it when Justin started fooling around in front of everybody and I told him no."
"Then he should've stopped."
"I could've gotten away from him," I said in Justin's defense.
"Not from all nine of them. Why you would've been fighting off a ton of muscle," he said.
"I was close to the door. I could've gotten away," I said.
"And where would you have gone? They likely would've come after you if they were horny enough."
"Maybe, but I didn't even try," I said.
"So...you...more or less let it happen."
"Not more or less. I did let it happen. It was going to happen sometime," I said with a shrug. "It was a fantasy of mine. Justin knew that."
"Oh, really." He leaned back in his chair with a smile. "Can't tell you how happy I am with the way you're dealing with this."
"How else am I supposed to handle it? I'm gay, Coach. Everybody knows it now." I could see the muscles in his arm flex as he was rubbing his hand casually over his crotch.
"Well, I just want you to know I respect you for who you are, not what you are," he said. Then he shoved my uniform to the corner of the desk. "You can take this with you when you go. When I want it, I'll ask for it."
I nodded and stood up. I went over to get the uniform, and got what shouldn't have been a surprise. He wasn't just rubbing his crotch, he was stroking his cock! It was sticking out the leg of his PE shorts. I picked up my uniform and helmet without taking my eyes off of his cock. He shoved his hand down to the base and held it straight up through his fist, tall. thick and throbbing about eight inches. There was precum streaming down the shaft.
"Think you could handle a little more," he said.
Looking back now, I think that was my defining moment that I was more than just gay; I was a slut. I had just been fucked by nine guys, and sucked most of them off, and my mouth was watering at the sight of the coach's big cock, and I had to swallow my spit. I didn't really like the man, but he had always treated me okay and right at that moment I was liking him more. I glanced around at the door. I hadn't closed it.
"It's okay, there's nobody else around," he said.
"But someone could come in," I said.
"Close the door then," he said.
I walked over to close the door, still with my uniform and helmet in my arm. I had a fleeting thought that I should leave, walk away from it. But it was out there between us now and it would be there the next day, and the next and the next, every time I saw the coach, just like it was out there with all of the guys, and probably the whole damned school by morning.. I closed the door and flipped the lock then laid my uniform and helmet on the chair. When I went back around the desk, Coach's PE shorts were down around his ankles, his big cock standing tall and proud. I went to my knees and pulled the shorts off and tossed them aside. Then I moved between his knees with my arms laid across his massive, hairy thighs and took hold of his cock. I swallowed, audibly loud. I was already licking my lips.
The End
(If you liked the story--or if you didn't--I would appreciate hearing from you at firstname.lastname@example.com . Especially if you've had any similar experiences, or anything close; I would like to hear about it. I get a lot of my inspiration and ideas from readers).
Teen Gets Gangbanged By Teammates In The Shower
Started by rawTOP, Apr 30 2010 07:06 PM, 7 replies to this topicgangbang teen
Posted 30 April 2010 - 07:06 PM
Posted 30 April 2010 - 08:14 PM
Hot!!!- I loved the story,
Posted 20 June 2010 - 01:02 PM
Great story, loved it. Would like it to be me too. Now that I know some jocks I'm going to try for the gold. Thanks for posting. HOT!
Posted 11 July 2010 - 08:09 AM
Hot! I'd lie if I said that I wouldn't want to be used like that.
Posted 19 November 2010 - 11:14 AM
HOT story wish i was ther could've had me whenever they want lol:)
Posted 04 May 2011 - 07:20 PM
Damn! This is a hot story! I wish that we'd of known more of what happened at the end there with the coach though.
Posted 07 May 2011 - 10:12 PM
This is one of the best written, hottest posts on this whole site. Justin is my hero.
Posted 13 May 2011 - 02:18 PM
That was one of the hottest stories I've read in a long time makes me wanna hang out in a football lockerroom showers all day!
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text: Max is a serious boy. Suzette is a light-hearted pig. Max's father is the most temperamental of French chefs. When the neighborhood Countess announces her plan to come to dinner, Max and Suzette are sent deep into the French woods to find that rarest of gastronomic delicacies: the truffle. Nothing goes according to plan. A classic tale of dirt and duty (and Louis XIV), Max and the Truffle Pig is a sparkling new musical for all ages.


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Sep 26 2009, 12:25 AM
Post #1
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,416
Joined: 18-February 09
Member No.: 48,547
The web of lies and propoganda has begun against Iran and the stupid public are going to fall for it hook line and sinker yet again as they did in the run up to the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq.
People need to start listening to Irans side of the story too instead of believing everything their presidents and prime ministers tell them.
This post has been edited by marney1: Sep 26 2009, 12:37 AM
Sep 26 2009, 04:05 PM
Post #2
Nobody Special
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 34
Joined: 2-January 05
From: London, England
Member No.: 7,717
There probably wouldn't be any occupation of Iran. Just making sure there is a regime change and destroying all of their nuclear stuff, then pulling out and letting them sort out the aftermath on their own. Thing is though, it probably wouldn't go like that. They wouldn't just let someone come in fuck the country up and leave.
They'd do all they can to fuck things up for Israel, and to fuck things up in Iraq and Afghanistan. Moreso than currently. Much more. They'd probably drag the US and any other invading countries into an even bloodier conflict, all it would do is send even more shockwaves around the Muslim world and in general any sort of Iranian invasion would mess everything up big time.
Whatever happens loads of people would get fucked up.
Tbh, I doubt Iran would be invaded. It would just be too much. It would be the last straw for any population/government in Europe who don't like getting involved in stupid wars, I doubt Obama would do it and it'd just put the Muslim world into a frenzy.
It's a shame that the recent Iran election was fucked up though. Makes you sometimes think maybe these guys (A-jod and the clerics and ayatollahs) do need to get bombed to shit. I wouldn't really mind if that happens.
|Lo-Fi Version
|Time is now: 29th May 2016 - 01:33 PM


text:
Shocking Blue - Send Me A Postcard / Harley Davidson 7" (1968)
I decided to post each Shocking Blue single here, in a chronological order, not all gathered in a compilation, since I think each one merit an individual post (I should have done the same for Cockney Rebel and Steve Harley but I know most of you prefer to get all of them on the same one). Before "Venus" and "Love Buzz", the band had released a single that did not make it in the charts, although it was a great one. Sincerely, I was surprised that Kurt Cobain chosed "Love Buzz" to cover when "Send Me A Postcard" had much more a pre-grunge style with its heavy guitar and psyche-garage sound. If you look at the cover, you see that Mariska Veres had curled hair but would adopt very soon her classic Grace Slick hairbrush, and like her American model, would go back to the curled hair some years later. She seemed to say that they were not her real hair but I'm not sure it's true. Strangely, "Send Me A Postcard" was not included as bonus track on the At Home LP that gathered the songs only released in singles, but was included as bonus track on Scorpio's Dance, the second one. It's true that the single was issued in France only some years later, and offered when you bought petrol for your car (the petrol company was Antar that disappeared many years ago). I post the (ugly) cover below for testimony. The picture of the band is, I think, a shoot taken the year this single was released, judging by the look of the members (clothes and faces). The B-side has been included as bonus track on At Home and is a good although a little dated psychedelic-pop song à-la Steppenwolf. Taste it here.
Send Me A Postcard. Before loneliness Will break my heart Send me a postcard,darling How can I make you understand I wanna be your woman Here I'm waiting for a little sign Waiting till the end of time Send me a postcard,darling Send me a postcard now I can't taste a lonely night I need someone I can turn to Look out for the day I get a little sign I want to know your own mind Now Now please don't let me down Ain't no lover like me in town Send me a postcard,darling
Send me a postcard now
No need to include a streaming tilidom, the Youtube version of the song is of high quality.
Felt - Primitive Painters EP (1985)
In August 1985 was issued one of the greatest songs of the 20th century: "Primitive Painters" composed by Laurence, the leader of the band Felt. I've never been a fan of this band and honestly doesn't consider the rest of their discography as my cuppa tea but "Primitive Painters" is unbelievable. Of course, the participation of Liz Frazer on vocals and of Robin Guthrie as a producer (both of Cocteau Twins) is surely what makes the difference. But this would not have made this song so great if it was not a gem per se. Tonight, don't know why, but I had the melody of this song in my head, and since it was my project to post it here one day or another, it's the right time. Even if you're allergic to the 80's sound, give a hear here to this masterpiece, it's worth the listen I assure. Below a pic of Laurence, who was a kind of Pete Doherty of the times.
Primitive Painters. I just wish my life could be as strange as a conspiracy I hold out home but there's no way of being what I want to be The dragons blow fire angels fly spirits wither in the air I'm just me I can't deny I'm neither here, there nor anywhere Oh you should see my trail of disgrace (Oh oh you should see my trail of disgrace) It's enough to scare the whole human race
I said, oh you should see my trail of disgrace (Oh oh you should see my trail of disgrace) It's enough to scare the whole human race, yeah, eminence I don't care about this life, they say there'll be another one Defeatist attitude I know will you be sorry when I've gone Primitive painters are ships floating on an empty sea Gathering in galleries were stallions of imagery Oh you should see my trail of disgrace, (Oh oh you should see my trail of disgrace) It's enough to hold the whole human race I said oh you should see my trail of disgrace (Oh oh you should see my trail of disgrace) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too (You should see my trail of disgrace) And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too (You should see my trail of disgrace) And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear I said it thinner This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too (I just swear, light on me) And there's a look on your face, it's a human race (Your bitter trance) And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear (Yeah yeah) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too And there's a look on your face, it's a human race Hold on) And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear (Hold on love, on and on) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear (The way I see it, yeah yeah) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too (In your father's life) And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear (Painters of my life) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear (Swear I'm your life) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too (Do you feel it?) And there's a look on your face, it's a human race (I'm good) And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear (Yeah, we?re jamming on) This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too And there's a look on your face, it's a human race (I can feel through your head) And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear This is a new trance, yeah, an entrance too (All through your life) And there's a look on your face, it's a human race And if you just can't stand it, ah, I swear This is a new trance
Shocking Blue - Love Buzz fake 7" (1969)
Shocking Blue has always been one of my fave 70's band, and not only Dutch band. More mainstream pop than Jefferson Airplane, there was a special flavour in their rather simple and rudimentary rock that made them one of the bands that I preferred when I was a kid. I since got all their singles and LPs (more than 6, not the one-hit wonders they are considered to be) but no use to post them here since they are all very easy to dl on several blogs. I admit that Mariska Veres, the gorgeous singer, did a lot to make me appreciate this band. Not only for her beauty but also her voice and her candid I-don't-know-I'm-a-sex-symbol-for-all-teens-and-truck-drivers style. Finally, they will be remembered mainly for 2 songs: "Venus" of course, one of the all-times greatest hit on the planet earth, and "Love Buzz", the present subject of the post, because Nirvana covered it on the A-side of a Sub-Pop single in 1988,3 years before their commercial breakthrough. It's not that this song is a great one, Shocking Blue did many better ones (such as the B-side I chose for this fake single, the superb "California, Here I Come", that featured with "Love Buzz" on their first LP in 1969), but it's a quite forgotten version I think. And it allows me to make a sleeve with Mariska on it. She died 3 years ago, at 61. This is an hommage to her, and my, youth. Enjoy this love buzz here.
Love Buzz. Would you believe me when I tell you You're the king of my dreams? Please don't deceive me when I hurt you; It just ain't the way it seems. Can't you hear my love buzz? Can't you hear my love buzz? Can't you hear my love buzz? I need you like a desert needs rain; I would rather like to die. Darling I hurt when I do not see you, So spread your wings and fly. Can't you hear my love buzz?
Below a video hommage to the band using "California Here I Come".
EyeHateGod - In The Name Of Suffering French LP (1990)
Tomorrow evening, the fathers of sludge are in Paris and this is the occasion to post their first LP, first released in France in 1990 i.e., 2 years before the US, on a French label called Intellectual Convulsion (they also released the first Dazzling Killmen before the US). This seminal LP is one of the most essential in rock and maybe the most important in sludge. The only difference between the French and US version was the cover sleeve and that's the only thing this post can add to an album that is easily found to dl on many other blogs. There's not much to say about this band. Many will not be receptive to this vomitive way of considering music. Some, as I am, find here something that I would call metaphysical, even if the members of the band would probably consider this as intellectual masturbation from an old faggot and they're maybe right but I can't change anymore. Judging by the videos on Youtube, it seems the band is still a must-see. Anyway, here everything began. I included this album on the 120 1987-99 essential albums issue of the Xroads music mag and I'm quite proud of that. Meanwhile, suffer it here.
Below, more than 30 min of a show by the band in 1993. Good sound (except you can't hear Mike Williams singing) and nostagia for sure.
Peter Hammill - The (less incomplete) Peel Sessions (1973-1988)
If it was necessary to have a demonstration that the disc industry considers that we are only paying pigs and that it's no use to respect us, this compilation would be one element of the trial. Actually Peter Hammill recorded 6 sessions for this show, 4 with 3 songs and 2 with 4 songs. So, when in 1995, a Peter Hammill's Peel sessions album was released, we could hope to have 20 songs on it. There were actually only 14. The 2 first sessions were not included. We could imagine that these recordings were lost, who knows, but when the remastered versions of the original studio albums of Peter Hammill were released 4 years ago, the second sessions appeared miraculously on The Silent Corner and the Empty Stage. But, would you believe, not the 3 songs, only 2, "A Louse is not a Home" being replaced by a late live playing of "The Lie". And no trace of the 1st Peel session on Chameleon in the Shadow of the Night. All this is impossible to understand but the result is that 4 songs played by Peter Hammill at the Peel sessions are nowhere to find. So, I do not promise here the complete, but the less incomplete collection of the songs played by Hammill at this radio show. I don't need to say that these sessions are seminal, not only for Hammill's fans but for anyone who appreciate intensity and deep introspective examination. The 4th session in particular, following the release of the LP Over, is a must hear for everybody. This is one of the songs played at this session I streamed below, one of his strongest songs in his complete career. Be careful, the last session is a rather special period for Peter Hammill, going into cheapelectronic 80's sound. Not listenable now. Enjoy it here.
Betrayed. When I began I was full of altruistic dreams, Believed in princes and princesses, kings and queens - Now I find they're all human inside, All bitterness and pride, So why shouldn't I be like that too? It seems that I've forgotten all I tried so hard to learn; It seems there's not an ounce of love or trust Anywhere in the world. Friends - they're all harbouring knives To embed in your back our of revenge, or spite, Or indifference, or lack of other things to do - In the end who's going to be a friend for you When they kick you in the guts as your hand Holds out the pearl? It seem that there is nothing left but Hatred and lust in the world. I don't give a damn anymore - I've only wound up betrayed. It's all been absolutely worthless - All the efforts I've made to be gentle and kind Are repaid with contempt, Degraded by sympathy, and worthless kindness And love that isn't meant. I'm through with joy and company, I've done with pretty words, Betrayed... there's no hiding place Anywhere in the world. I've nothing left to fight for except making my passion heard - I don't believe in anything Anywhere in the world
Mother Susurrus - s/t EP (2010)
Here I am again, after hard times I must say. And nothing better than a true great doom band for a come back. Here is Mother Susurrus. They are finnish and this 2-track EP is a massive achievement agreggating sludge and doom. It's dirty, heavy, but there's space for the listener and they don't use a wall of noise to impose their music. This is this stoner approach that makes Mother Susurrus a band that has its own universe and honestly one of the rare in the last past months that I can say I would recognize the style (some bands are great but don't succeed to develop an idiosyncrasy). The music is not based on long developments but on several fragments intricated and sometimes they could be considered a bit progressive (in the good sense of this term, as was King Crimson for example). But don't worry, this is heavy as lead shit. Strangely, at the 6th min of "Apocatastasis", the second track (20 min long), the voice becomes soft and more conventional. I hope this is not an indication of a future vocal choice since I am not fond of this singing in doom. Time will tell. But then the track becomes a gigantic sonic airplane flying over the smoky horizons and it's, you can believe me, orgasmic. The second part has an Indian flavor that gives the band a king of psychedelic dimension (maybe the reason of this strange but nice cover sleeve). You see, nothing of your usual doom canteen. Enjoy it here
Sorry little girl
No time to post today, don't need to menace me with this gun. I gotta work for living. Yes I know all life we work but work is bore, and that if life's for livin' what's livin' for. It's Ray Davies who sang it 40 years ago... and nothing's changed even with all this damned shitty technology that only scotomize our voluntary servitude as wrote La Boetie... longer ago still. Tomorrow, I promise. PS. The pic is from the great Gottfried Helnwein.
Oklahoma USA. All life we work but work is bore, If life's for livin' what's livin' for, She lives in a house that's near decay, Built for the industrial revolution, But in her dreams she is far away, In Oklahoma U.S.A. With Shirley Jones and Gordon McRea, As she buys her paper at the corner shop, She's walkin' on the surrey with the fringe on top, Cos in her dreams she is far away, In Oklahoma U.S.A., She walks to work but she's still in a daze, She's Rita Hayworth or Doris Day, And Errol Flynn's gonna take her away, To Oklahoma U.S.A., All life we work but work is a bore, If life's for livin' then what's livin' for.
Tinsel Teeth - 3-demo EP (2008)
I fear that not many of you see the importance of Tinsel Teeth but honestly I think you're wrong and that you should be in the truth before the masses. This has been one of my main musical pleasure in life to have believed in some bands before they became successfull or (more often) cult. I remember how it was hard to defend that Black Sabbath was the best band in the world in 1971 (I was just a kid, not even a teen, teens were for us stupid arsehole listening to Hendrix, the Beatles, the Doors or Janis Joplin and saying that all that was good was gone and that Sabbath was music for prehistoric men, and they were somewhat right). And that was the same with Alex Harvey in 1973 (compared to Bowie, it was gutter rock), and with Alternative TV in 1977 (compared to Clash, it was a nonsense), and with Jesus Lizard when they released Pure (you had to listen to Sonic Youth) and Today is the Day, and Electric Wizard. All this past bullshit useless ruminations of mine because I would really like that Tinsel Teeth become an important part of the scene, a kind of Gossip for the second decade of the century with Stephanie as a destroy Beth Ditto. But after all, you do what you want. One member of the band made me the honour to leave a comment here to inform me that they had released a 3 demo EP 2 years ago. Some weeks before their strongly awaited album, I post it here as teasing. It's much more satisfying for the ears that the live testimony I posted the other day but both are necessary in your ear life. Enjoy it here. PS. I did the fake cover sleeve. Didn't find the official one if there were one.
Ian Hunter - Shallow Crystals fake 7" (1977)
If someone'd asked me what's my fave Ian Hunter's song, I'd answer withouth any hesitation "Shallow Crystals", even if it's on a weak album (Overnight Angels) and somewhat altered by the awful production of Roy Thomas Baker (if he could have stayed Mister Queen it would have been great). Even Ian Hunter, who regrets to have recorded this album (although songs are rather good, but he sings them too high and the production is more pretentious than you could imagine, even more than the Queen one) says that it's a great song. I'm surprised he so rarely sang it afterwards since the text seems one of his most autobiographical and intimate. It's about a mother who seemed to be so cool that she destroyed the members of her family. Not a usual way to revisit negatively his education. All this is written it seems, by a son who sees her growing old and tired, maybe dying. And he's full of bitter words for her and recriminates her past attitude. The melody, music and arrangements (he really worked hard with Earl Slick on the guitar parts he admitted) make this song one of the peaks of his career, one of my all-time favorite songs since it was released in 1977, even if at the time, my musical preoccupations were far from Ian Hunter's world. Since he never released it anywhere else than on the album, I decided to create one of my (quite stupid I know) fake singles, putting the other great song of the album, "Ballad of Little Star" on B-side. For the sleeve, I chose pictures of Hans Bellmer puppets that seem to me the perfect visual equivalent of these songs. You see I'm a sickened mind. Enjoy it here.
Shallow Crystals. Her life gets smaller in his eyes And he wonders if he thinks he should cry Oh mother the colour's gone and left your hair And he wonders if he thinks he should care She told him how to play a guitar She told him how to be a star But mother were you really there My friend don't speak he's such a mixed up boy I wonder if she sold him his toys A kiss on the cheek a conversation decoy In his cute little corduroys Oh she taught him how to win the game She taught him everything is your name Oh mother did you have to destroy Mother if you really cared You'd talk to him cry for him All you every did was dream All you ever said was be cool be cool be cool And I think you made a mess of his life And I think he made a mess of your life And I think it made a mess of my life Mother if you really cared You'd talk to him cry for him All you every did was dream All you ever said was be cool be cool be cool And I think you made a mess of her life And I think she made a mess of your life And I think it made a mess of my life I think you made a mess of my life I think you made a mess of my life
Tweak Bird - Reservations EP (2008)
Among the best bands in the world living today, here's Tweak Bird. They are one of these formations that decided to give up the boring guitarist obligation (and often solo performances or rock 'n roll conventions) and to function as a duo bass & drums (+ voice). And honestly, based on a Melvins paradigm, what they achieve should propulse them in the intergalactic success (but people have such awful musical tastes these days that I doubt it will be the case, imagine they believe that Muse, Radiohead or Coldplay are great bands). There's something that I liked so much in Budgie 35 years ago, a strange collision between heavyness and nursery refrains. What is strinkingly good is that they really play songs that you can hum and have in your head the whole day throughout. Moreover their melodies are even catchy and rather sweetly sung. With Boat, Polyphonic Spree, Kate Nash and Mitch Easter, these are the ones I preferred over the last 5 years. Here is their 2008 EP Reservations. If I post it (although recommend, as I did, to buy it), it's because they will release soon their first LP, and I optimistically think (hope) that those who give me some musical credits will lend an ear to this EP and agree with my opinion above. Moreover, they seem great guys and I love their sane relation with nudity and nature. Yes I know I'm a body naked addict but I assume. As said Catherine Ringer from the Rita Mitsouko "the body is the last modern adventure". Tweak Bird will be in Europe in may, don't miss them. Meanwhile, enjoy it here.
Below an hommage to the Who Sell Out cover sleeve (one among many I must say)
Here an interview with the 2-men band
Here a nice video with a non-EP song.
Here a TV show video in which they play the great "Spaceships" from this EP.
Mott The Hoople - Saturday Gigs / Lounge Lizard 7" (1974)
This is not the real "Saturday Gigs" single but what should have been the "Saturday Gigs" single. Actually, the band had changed since "Foxy Foxy". Ariel Bender had left and was replaced by Mick Ronson, yes, THE GREAT Mick Ronson. But the transplant will not take, the rest of the band complaining about Mick Ronson's behavior, quite distant and only talking with Ian Hunter such as it seemed that Mott The Hoople was only the vehicle for a Hunter-Ronson duo. However, they rehearsed and recorded some tracks among which "Saturday Gigs" and "Lounge Lizard". In fact, "Saturday Gigs" was recorded with Ariel Bender under the name of "Saturday Kids" and Ronson added his guitar on the final version whereas "Lounge Lizard" was recorded with Ronson. But the latter did not feature on the single cos Ian Hunter apparently refused, wanting a live track (actually a medley with "Jerkin' Crocus, Sucker & Violence") for a reason I can't explain except maybe to put this song on his first solo LP (that'll be the case). So here it is the version that could have been. That would have made a great single. Of course "Saturday Gigs" is a marvellous song, the story of the highs and lows of the band in 4 min and the announce of the end of Mott as a band, maybe less chart-able than than the band was thinking but now a cult one (see below the videos of the original one and the version of Ian Hunter last year). "Lounge Lizard" is also a great one, and I wonder if I do not prefer the Mott version than the Hunter-Ronson one recorded some months later after Mott disbanded. Enjoy it here. PS. Yes I've changed the sleeve and removed the Live medley for "Lounge Lizard".
Saturday Gigs. Sixty-nine was cheapo wine,Have a good time,What your sign? Float up to the Roundhouse On a Sunday afternoon. In Seventy we all agreed A King's Road flat was the place to be 'Cause Chelsea girls are the best in the world for company. In Seventy-one all the people come Bust a few seats but it's just in fun Take the Mick out of Top of the Pops We play better than they do (yeah, yeah, yeah) In Seventy-two we was born to lose We slipped down snakes into yesterday's news I was ready to quit But then we went to Croydon Do you remember the Saturday gigs? We do, we do Do you remember the Saturday gigs? We do, we do The tickets for the fantasy were twelve and six a time A fairy tale on sale Oh, Seventy-three was a jambouree We were the dudes and the dudes were we. (oh oh oh oh oh) Did you see the suits and the platform boots? (oh dear, oh boy, ...) In Seventy-four on the Broadway tour We didn't much like dressing up no more Don't wanna be hip - but thanks for a great trip. Do you remember the Saturday gigs? We do, we do Do you remember the Saturday gigs? We do, we do But now the kids pay a couple of quid 'Cause they need it just the same It's all a game A grown-up game But you got off on those Saturday gigs And we did, we did 'Cause you got off on those Saturday gigs And we did, we did Don't you ever forget us We'll never forget you We're going to sleep now You better be good, right? (ha ha ha) See you next time [...?] So long for now
Gloomy Sunday - Beyond Good And Evil LP (2007)
The name of this band comes from the so-called "suicide song" posted yesterday. The title of the LP from an essay by the great Nietszche. I once thought they were russians but they are from Suede. This album was a fave of mine (and not because songs titles often borrow to chemical products I take or took) the year it was released and I use the name pretext to post it here. It's very dirty sludge in the EyeHateGod tradition but with something more fuzzy and still more muddy (yes they can). In the Last Chapter webzine, the reviewer called it "sludgy doom metal punk". Not wrong. The last track ("Dead Love Autumn") is a masterpiece and still sounds as exceptional today as it was at the time it was issued (actually I'm not sure the album was not recorded earlier than its release). The inside image conceived about the 11th september (reproduced below) is quite a different approach of the event that the journalistic soup that is usually served but seems to me more relevant to the inside motivations of all this terrorist shit that the similar political theory they claim. The band stated recently that they were "neither dead nor in jail" and that they were "rehearsing new material". That's a good news, we need bands like that to give musical equivalent to our own disgust of this world. Meanwhile, go deep down in their catacombal derelicted sludge doom here (inside booklet with lyrics is enclosed).
No video, no lyrics, only a streaming of the massive closing track of the LP. Listen until the end please, it's monstruous.
Billie Holiday - Gloomy Sunday (1941)
This terrifying drawing is from the great Alfred Kubin
Gloomy Sunday. Sunday is gloomy, My hours are slumberless, Dearest the shadows I live with are numberless Little white flowers will never awaken you Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you Angels have no thought of ever returning you Would they be angry if I thought of joining you Gloomy Sunday. Gloomy is sunday with shadows I spend it all My heart and I have decided to end it all Soon there'll be candles and prayers that are sad, I know, let them not weep, let then know that I'm glad to go Death is no dream, for in death I'm caressing you With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessing you Gloomy Sunday Dreaming I was only dreaming I wake and I find you asleep in the deep of my heart dear Darling I hope that my dream never haunted you My heart is telling you how much I wanted you Gloomy Sunday.
Mott The Hoople - Foxy Foxy / Trudi's Song 7" (1974)
Let's be optimistic (yes folks, I'll try this time, it's Easter after all, the resurection of the Christ). All love stories don't turn as bitter jokes and end as buried cadavers in the back of our mind like in the back of our gardens. Some cross the decades and only death can separate the lovers. This is one of them that Ian Hunter had the chance (and the talent cos it's quite a talent to keep alive a love story) to live since for more than 36 years now, he's still with Trudi (at least I believe but I can be wrong, if it's the case, don't hesitate to tell in comments). And the B-side of this single is the one he tells how it's good to be loved this way. A really simple and wonderful song driven from The Hoople LP. On A-side, it was, unusually, a non-LP track, once again a Spectorian song (the way Roy Wood did it with Wizzard). Not a great achievement. Released in June 1974 (3 months after "The Golden Age of Rock 'n Roll") it was surely supposed to candidate for the summer hit but it was a miss (only 33 in the charts). This was a sign of the cul-de-sac in which was going the band at the time. And the dawn was on the horizon. Anyway, give it a try here.
Sorry, no video from the band playing any of these 2 songs on TV or live.
Trudi's Song. She doesn't have to say - she only has to look I think she sees Through me - reads me like a book And I'm in love with her, and she's in love with me And the love goes sailin' on - across the stormy seas. Mmmmm, I got my babe, Mmmmm, I got my babe, She's a right-on child, she goes smilin' Sometimes I go over the line, she has to bring me down, And the pride pulls heavy, makes some evil sounds. But I'm in love with her, and she's in love with me And the sea runs calmer now, I kiss the love that sleeps. Mmmm, I got my babe, Mmmm I got my babe,She's a right-on child, she goes smilin' Mmmm, I got my babe, Mmmm I got my babe
Melanie - alternative Unchained Melanie EP (1996)
When I feel like a shit that even flies have better to do than to come to visit (as tonight), Melanie's always here to peace my sick and putrefied mind. So here we go again. This collection of songs could have been entitled "Acoustic covers of sad love songs" since it's quite monothematic: absence, separation, unhappy love, sentimental dereliction and that half of the record consists in non Melanie's songs (one from Cat Stevens, one from Sting, one from John Waite and one that was covered by hundred of people most notably by the Righteous Brothers). Recorded at her home in Connecticut probably in 1996, with her children (her two daughters on backing vocals and her gifted son on guitar), these are the only 8 songs from the limited available Unchained Melanie LP, sold only to her shows and filled with 5 songs from Silver Anniversary recorded 3 years before and that you can find here, and one song from Silence Is King (3 years before too) that I'll post maybe one day. I think useless to include songs from other albums in new albums and that's what unfortunately Melanie has done during most of the nineties. So I will only put the unreleased ones on the posts. In this collection, some songs are her owns, and they are the best since nobody's a better songwriter than she is (this is my blog, I write what I want, even if you think I'm a sucker). Among them, some will appear on other further albums in various versions, often less acoustic, but I don't think the beautiful "I Never Had A Clue" is on another record (even a lo-fi compilation) than this one. If you want to know more about it click here, you'll know everything. I decided to cut the album in 2 different sides, the first with covers from others, and the second with Melanie's own songs. Do the flies for me and enjoy here.
For the streaming song, I chose again "Prematurely Grey", in the (for me) the best version ever. Difficult to retain tears in hearing such a moving harmony between a melody, a voice and a text. Not much to add. Someone said to me recently she was not so enthusiast than I am on Melanie. That's sad for her. She misses something.
Prematurely Grey. Too quick to smile And too easy to cry The first to say hello And the last to say goodbye A sucker for adventure A fool for the truth And I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue Yes I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue Too late to come And the last to go The first one to believe And the last to know A sucker for religion And all that is true And I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue Yes I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue A sucker for adventure A fool for the truth And I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue Yes I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue Yes I'm prematurely grey Absolutely blue.
No video, so here some pictures (don't know who took them, sorry for not crediting, don't ask for the deletion of this blog for that please I beg you on my knees) that give a different image of Melanie. That's what I need to see on this shitty night.
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text: Photo coutesy of jpshotos.net [ Stuff To Do This Weekend By JC 04/19/2012 Don't know what to do this weekend? Here's some ideas... Read More Category: Blogs, Concerts, Events, J.C., Missoula News, Missoula-Area Sports, Music Tags: hockey, jc, local 406, local bands, Local Music, troy evans Send to a friend! Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Pin it! Reddit This! Share on Tumblr!


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Although it doesn't look like there's a serious problem, I'm getting a "data is stale" message when I log in to the administration console in the server status screen. Everything has the blue check marks indicating that maybe everything is alright.
From other threads, I checked the following file:
No DB errors or any other errors of note.
Happens on both the Network version and the Open Source version.
Any pointers to what's going on and what can be done to remedy?


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The Protector
|Release Date: October 11, 1985
|Running Time: 95 mins.
|Genre: Action, Crime, Drama
Jackie Chan
Danny Aiello
Sandy Alexander
Roy Chiao
All Cast & Crew >>
Summary:Billy and Danny are policemen who do not follow the rules. The partners are sent Hong Kong to save the kidnapped daughter of a rich New York man who is involved with a heroin dealer.


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As fans still wait for Juelz Santana and Lil Wayne's I Can't Feel My Face, the former has announced a slew of upcoming projects.
Speaking with whatshotinhiphop.com, the Dipset member first discussed an upcoming mixtape. "The mixtape, long-awaited Reagan Era. It's titled The Reagan Era."
Juelz also announced an album for 2012. "The album gonna be titled Born to Lose, Built to Win, that's on Def Jam Records. We gonna do that at the end of the year. Probably like December."
Santana added that he would be releasing not one, but two mixtapes. "I'll put out two mixtapes before that. The mixtapes gonna be like an album."
Watch the interview below:
RELATED: Juelz Santana Says "I Can't Feel My Face" With Lil Wayne Still Coming


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Related Articles
- Auto Expo 2014: Renault KWID, Honda NSX Concept, Maruti Suzuki Ciaz grab eyeballs on day 1Auto Expo 2014: Tata Motors unveils SUV Nexon, ConnectNext concept carsAuto Expo 2014: Auto sector prospects may move up a gear after elections, says Anand MahindraAuto Expo 2014: When Cyrus Mistry visited Ashok Leyland stall!
With around 40 new car and two-wheelers unveiled on day one and a sparkling new venue, the biennial Delhi Auto Expo can finally join the league of top global motor shows like those held in Tokyo, Geneva and Frankfurt. Greater Noidas Expo Mart, where the motor show is being held for the first time, received a strong thumbs up on its opening day from the visiting top officials of global carmakers.
This is a great motor show, it shows the rising importance of India in the business strategy of every global automaker, said Toru Hasegawa, Nissans corporate VP for Africa, Middle East and India.
Added Jim Farley, Fords global VP for marketing, sales & service, Its loud, but its beautiful. I think there is a long way to go in India for all of us.
The inaugural day saw its bit of celebrity blitz as well. On the corporate side, Ratan Tata, Tata Group chairman Cyrus Mistry and Anand Mahindra, were all spotted at the Auto Expo. There was also a bit of Bollywood glamour with Ranbir Kapoor and Priyanka Chopra stopping by to support their respective auto brands. Today, the Tokyo motor show and Paris Motor show organisers are also touring here and their feedback has been very pleasant, said an official from one of the organisers.
Compact vehicles, such as small SUVs and sub-four metre sedans remained the focus. Major launches on Wednesday include car market leader Maruti Suzukis new midsize sedan concept Ciaz and the SX4 S-Cross crossover, Hyundais new Santa Fe SUV and Tata Motors Nexon compact SUV concept. General Motors also unveiled the Chevrolet Adra compact SUV concept.
Compared to the previous edition in 2012, crowd management and event organisation was much better, officials said. There is more space for companies as well to display their cars.
I think the organisers have done a very good job. This is specifically important for our German counterparts coming to India who expect things to be very much in order. Strong impressions last long, and this helps position India as a major market in the minds of global managers, said Mahesh Kodumudi, president & MD of Volkswagen India.
Sugato Sen, deputy director-general of Society of Indian Automobile Manufacturers (Siam) said, We wanted to create a world-class show because after the experience in 2012 global automakers had started doubting us. Siam, along with CII and ACMA, are organisers of the Delhi Auto


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Yoda. (Yoda "2-day tattoo" to be exact)
Sargon & Jake got the right answer (or at least close enough), so you guys win a surprise gift. But before I get there, I gotta say that inside that egg was a small Yoda tattoo thing that I could have put in my arm…
…in case there hadn't been this tiny little 'accident'.
There was actually several small tattoos (I even tested one Jedi tattoo) but the Yoda tattoo was the coolest, thus I decided that it was the main thing that people would need to guess. I would have sent you winners tattoos, but because either (1) our dogs ate those tattoos or (2) somebody put them in a trashbin – I fortunately cannot show you the Yoda tattoo (nor give you different tattoo as a surprise gifts) since I couldn't find them from anywhere. Instead, I have come up with a different surprise gift.
For this, I do need your mailing address Sargon & Jake – so please email me and let me know your full street address so that I can mail you the surprise gift.
Thanks everybody for participating!
It's good to fool around a bit every now and then – I think life it's not meant to be too serious all the time…


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Sanmenxia Transport
Last updated by meimeili at 2016/4/22
Highway transport
Sanmenxia City also has a convenient highroad transport. Two National Highroads, G310 (Lianyungang-Tianshui in Gansu Province) from east to west and G209 (Huhehot, the capital of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region ---Beihai in Guangxi Province) from north to south run through the city. The Yellow River Highroad Bridge in Sanmenxia City connects Henan and Shanxi Province. What's more, the Luoyang ---Sanmenxia Highway is under construction now, which will make the transport in Sanmenxia City more convenient in the future.
Sanmenxia Long Distance Bus Terminal: 0398-2886061
Railway transport
Sanmenxia City enjoys a convenient railway transport, with Longhai ( Lanzhou in Gansu Province---Lianyungang in Jiangsu Province) Railroad running from west to east. Trains from Zhengzhou , Luoyang to Xi'an pass Sanmenxia. Train K761 from Zhengzhou to Xi'an passes Sanmenxi at 14:42 and gets at Xi'an at 18:26. And Train K762 from Xi'an to Zhengzhou passes Sanmenxia at 15:28 and gets at Zhengzhou at 19:00. K118 from Panzhihua (in southwestern Sichuan ) passes Sanmenxia at 17:24 and gets at Beijing at 5:50.
There are two railway stations in Sanmenxia City: Sanmenxia Railway Station and Western Sanmenxia Railway Station. Buses No. 1 and No. 2 run to Sanmenxia Railway Station and No.5 runs to the Western Railway Station.
Sanmenxia Railway Station
Ticket office in Sanmenxia City: 0398-2821169---2020 (extension number)
Ticket Office in Yuncheng County: 0359-2080440
Sleeper ticket and group ticket reservation: 0398-3843141, 3843132
Sanmenxia Western Railway Station
Ticket reservation:0398-3841432, 3803035, 0359-2080440, 2022795
You might also be interested in:
Top Things to Do in Sanmenxia
Being a historic and cultural site under state protection… >> details
Built in 1957, Sanmenxia Dam is the first large water-con… >> details
Luohe River rises from Guanju Mountain in Luonan County in… >> details
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The Past Is Present in Sundance Documentaries; Domestic Cultural Revolutions
by Patricia Thomson
Setting foot in Park City, it's quickly apparent there's a strange disconnect between the documentary line-up and the greater world out there. Perhaps it's more noticeable because of the saturation coverage of Iraq and now Korea. During the festival, there were anti-war protests, more empty chemical warheads discovered, and talk of exile for Saddam. But with the exception of "Iran, Veiled Appearances" from Belgium, tucked away in the new World Documentary section, it's like the guests are ignoring the elephant in the living room.
The reason is both logistical and cultural. The average independent documentary takes about seven years to complete (half spent in pursuit of funding), so timeliness isn't an option for documentarians who aren't on a broadcaster's payroll.
But there is also something inherently American about the way politics is manifest here. Domestic cultural movements, rather than geopolitics, are the focus. And these topics come through the back door -- presented as biography or through the long lens of history. Numerous films look back at the cultural revolution that gripped this country thirty years ago. There are films that touch on the Civil Rights movement ("The Murder of Emmett Till," "Brother Outsider: The Life of Bayard Rustin"), women's lib ("The Pill"), the anti-war movement ("The Weather Underground"), the impact of the counterculture on individuals' lives ("The Boys of 2nd Street Park," "The Same River Twice") and on Hollywood ("A Decade Under the Influence"). It's baby boomer history -- including, one might argue, Oliver Stone's feature-length interview with Fidel Castro, "Commandante."
Of course, the '60s didn't resolve American attitudes towards race, sex, and war. And the best of these documentaries resonate like a tuning fork with today's cultural climate.
No one can watch "The Weather Underground," a portrait of the Vietnam War's most militant resistance group, without thinking about today's nascent protest movement. The same questions apply: What if peaceful protest isn't enough? What if the government escalates its use of force despite public sentiment? What if the government breaks the law to suppress dissent; do you act in kind? If you have a righteous cause, does the end justify the means? These were questions faced by the Weathermen, a splinter group from Students for a Democratic Society. In Sam Green and Bill Siegel's engrossing film -- a festival favorite -- a half dozen Weathermen explain why they took the path to violence, bombing the Capital, courthouses, police precincts, and more, and mull over the rightness of their actions. The film's timing is perfect, since those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it.
Sex and race appear in two strong entries airing on PBS's "American Experience." As Chana Gazit's "The Pill" notes, the sale of contraceptives and even the distribution of information about birth control was criminalized in some states as recently as the 1950s. That's worth remembering in these days of GOP agenda-setting, as is the pragmatic politics of the odd quartet that brought the Pill into being. There was reproduction rights advocate Margaret Sanger; a scientist who had already been ostracized as a 'mad scientist' for performing the world's first in-vitro fertilization; a rich fellow suffragette who funded the project; and an infertility doctor who performed the human trials and was a devout Catholic to boot. Gazit's fascinating account of how these strange bedfellows changed the rulebook for women should caution and inspire all who hold reproductive rights dear.
Like "The Pill," Stanley Nelson's "The Murder of Emmett Till" doesn't break ground stylistically, but it expertly uses a tried-and-true form. Nelson has a way with the telling detail and skillfully reanimates the story of Emmett Till, a 14-year-old Chicago boy killed for being too cheeky with a store-owner's wife. Till's name has entered the history books as the spark that lit the Civil Rights movement. But in Nelson's hands, the icon comes alive and his story is as vivid as today's front page news -- his life and death, the murderers' acquittal, their confession in Look magazine, the politicians' inertia, the hue and cry of blacks, and the brave action of Rosa Parks 100 days later. The film reverberates for days.
Two of the documentaries catching buzz jump to the present with a look at child abuse. One is "Stevie," a riveting film by "Hoop Dreams" director Steve James. The filmmaker had been a Big Brother in college to his eponymous subject, so his relationship to Stevie -- a troubled child who grew into a very messed-up adult -- is loaded with personal history. When Stevie faces criminal charges for child molestation, James plunges headlong into heightened family tensions and the legal labyrinth, juggling his role as filmmaker and Big Brother. It's an honest portrayal of the choices faced by documentarians who are close to their subjects, and this secondary theme is as absorbing as the nuanced depiction of Stevie's sorry life.
Andrew Jarecki's "Capturing the Friedmans" captivated audiences with its "Rashomon"-like story of a Long Island school teacher and his son who were convicted for molesting a long line of students in their private computer classes. What sets this film apart is the treasure trove of home videos to which Jarecki was given access. Happy days are there, but so too are venomous fights and raw scenes of the family buckling under pressure. Even more disturbing are the contradictory versions of this sordid tale. Did they or didn't they? We're left to judge. Like the best documentaries here, it puts audiences on the hook.


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Whats new: We recently met the management of Hindalco Industries Ltd and are reviewing our outlook for the stock after its 20% rise over the past six months. While we are optimistic about subsidiary Noveliss performance in H2FY14 and FY15, we remain cautious on Hindalcos India aluminium operation, as we have turned more bearish on LME aluminium prices.
Whats the impact
Outlook for aluminium prices: We have turned more bearish on aluminium prices driven by weak fundamentals, as we forecast the global surplus to rise from 1.6m tonnes in 2012 to 3.0m tonnes in 2015. We are cutting our aluminium-price forecasts by 8% for FY14 and by 9.3% for FY15.
Earnings-forecast revisions: We are cutting our PAT forecasts by 14% for FY14 and 20% for FY15, driven by lower LME aluminium prices and the effect of the increase in our interest and depreciation-cost assumptions.
Cautious on India aluminium business: We have turned more cautious on the companys India business, as we now do not expect the Mahan coal block benefit to be felt until Q4FY15. We do not expect the Mahan smelter to be PAT profitable unless Hindalco starts operating the Mahan block.
What we recommend
We are lowering our FY15 SOTP(sum of the parts)-based six-month target price to R114 (from R135), driven mainly by the downward revisions to our earnings forecasts. Accordingly, we are downgrading our rating to Underperform (4) from Buy (1). Rationale. We have become more bearish on LME aluminium prices, and we consider the EV/Ebitda (enterprise value/ earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortisation) valuation to be unattractive following the strong 20% share-price rise over the past six months. In addition, we expect the start-up of the Mahan block to be delayed, while we expect higher interest and depreciation costs due to the capitalisation of its Utkal and Mahan facilities to have a negative impact on PAT in coming quarters. The key risks to our call would be higher-than-expected LME aluminium prices and the early start of the Mahan coal block.
Ebitda and PAT growth
We forecast a consolidated Ebitda CAGR of 11.9% for Hindalco over FY13-15, driven largely by our 14.6% aluminum sales-volume CAGR (compound annual growth rate) forecast for its standalone business and 7% CAGR for rolled aluminum shipments at its US subsidiary, Novelis. However, on the contrary, we forecast a flat 1% PAT CAGR over the same period, driven mainly by the negative impact of higher interest and


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Click on a thumbnail to go to Google Books.
The Austerity Olympics: When the Games Came to London in 1948 (2008)
by Janie Hampton
No current Talk conversations about this book.
I was reading this during the first week of the London 2012 torch relay, so made a good accompaniment to the build up to the 2012 games. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the Olympics, particularly in the run-up to are immediately after this year's Olympiad. Not only is this a great account post-war Britain, where rationing was still in place, but it also provides an insight into how the games and sport has changed, but equally how other aspects remain very similar.
The really interesting parts were the descriptions of the preparations for the games and some of the lengths which members of the British team had to go to in order to compete. Some of the sections on the events themselves were a little lengthy and in parts heavy and a little over reliant on quotes. It would have nice to have heard the author's voice a little more often. Nevertheless a fascinating account of how the Games were revived after at the end of a bleak decade for Britain and the world.
Janie Hampton has researched her subject with an awesome thoroughness, interviewing many people who attended and competed in 1948. This could have made for a heavy read; but she has an illuminating sense of detail, and her book tells a story that goes beyond that of a sporting event - a story of innocence, hope and pride.
The Austerity Olympics is a nice little addition to austerity lit, not as entertainingly written as the masterpiece of the genre, David Kynaston's Austerity Britain 1945-1951, but full of surprising facts and curious anecdotes. Mainly it's a cuttings job, but Hampton has found some 200 survivors to interview, too.
Janie Hampton's new book wonderfully evokes the atmosphere of the postwar Britain, with rationing in full swing.
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A fascinating look at the extraordinary event which was for and by the people, this book is full of first hand interviews, hilarious anecdotes and great spirited feats. Here we meet not only the famous names but also hear the experiences of all who were involved from tea ladies to locals and spectators.… (more)
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