Hipwrddude

Ahh, to be a kid again.. I remember my Mom would make my brother Chris and I take a bath together (4 & 5 yrs old.) Chris had a submarine that you put a tablet in and it would dive then rise. Somehow it disappeared until Chris jumped up out of the tub with a cut on his butt. I howled til my tummy hurt. One night me Mum cut my oldest brother David's hair. After she pulled the towel from around his neck he took a shower. When he asked us for a towel someone handed him the towel that was around his neck... As kids we'd sneak into the bathroom when one of us was taking a shower and douse them with freezin' cold wattah. Ha, ha, ha! Bein' the precocious type, I'm sitting on the bed and I put a rubber band around my head and stretched it around my toes. I'm gigglin' away wigglin my toes forward and back til brother Chris slaps the thing and it snaps me in the face. Ahh, to be a kid again. You're always the starter in your own life!

My Mom has a slight resemblance to Bette Midler, but my Mom has always been a bigger celebrity to me. I have a friend who was Alexander Haig’s driver in the 70’s; another friend was stationed at the White House and met Nixon, Kissinger and many others. Bruce Willis tried to pick up a former model friend of mine but she declined. I went to junior high with Marty Friedman (martyfriedman.com) rocker of Megadeth? in Laurel, Md. He clung to his guitar tighter then Linus to his blanket. My older brother partied with BTO on an airplane. Paris Hilton wanted my body but I turned her down. She said, “I want your body.” I said, “You can’t have it, it’s mine.” A record producer friend of mine had Patti Labelle recording in his studio with Patti’s son on the phone with Mariah Carey. He’s met and worked with a slew of celebrity musicians and rappers. I shook Evander Holyfield’s hand before he stepped up to heavyweight. I met the Commandant of the Marine Corps, Gen. Al Grey, when he was a Major General. One of my squad leaders when I was a platoon sergeant in C Co., 2nd Recon, USMC, went on to become CFO of Komatsu (# 2 to Caterpillar.) Another friend of mine was at the Pentagon and had President Reagan say, “I hear you boys had a good time last night;” reflecting his knowledge that my friend had sex with a high-class call girl the night before (long story.) My aunt’s boyfriend builds homes for billionaires that take years to complete. He built a home for Paul Jones (see Forbes list of billionaires.) The fence around the property was 22 miles long, and that was one of several homes he owns. He flies in on his chauffeured chopper, inspects the property, then his pilot tells him he has two minutes, he turns to Rick and says, “I have two minutes.” Wraps up and flies out. You're always the starter in your own life!

What you missed was the National Weather Service reported the rapid accumulation and precipitation of beer clouds in the immediate vicinity of the spill. That night the town of Chilhowie, Va., faced a crisis unlike any experienced anywhere in recorded history. Sheriff Buddy Howard was found drunk in the trunk of his cruiser after consuming beerfall through a funnel and siphon hose. Residents (many, underage) poured out into the streets and were observed lapping up beerfall and dancing about. Hobos were reportedly riding down Sulphur Springs rapids on heads of foam and singing. By order of the governor, Chilhowie, Va., was sealed off by the National Guard. A presidential executive order has secretly silenced the media and the Pentagon is quelling the rumor that Chilhowie, Va., is actually the testing ground for a high concept military experiment. I'm on the road heading north away from Chilhowie on Rt. 81 right now. I hear a helicopter overhead. I don't know if I can complete this text message on my cell phone before they disconnect me, but I think this is the supersecret "Beers for Fears," project. It's Non-Violent War. I'm getting scared... and thirsty.. I.. want ... save... self..... {disconnected.} You're always the starter in your own life!

The Patriot's purpose: http://www.army-technology.com/projects/patriot/ Patriot is a long-range, all-altitude, all-weather air defence system to counter tactical ballistic missiles, cruise missiles and advanced aircraft. True, it won't counter artillery or small stuff. You're always the starter in your own life!

Declassified reports found the Patriot missile batteries never took out a single Scud missile--the Scud missiles either disintegrated, predetonated or hit. Thanks for the vid. Another test with a laser destroying artillery rounds was even more impressive. As a former mortarman and Forward Observer (I'd call the rain of fire on the badguys-air, arty, naval guns, etc.) I feel comforted that one day our troops will have protection from the same. You're always the starter in your own life!

Oh Evelyn, one can never be "all the way live" with the curtains drawn. To laugh freely, joke loudly, carry on publically, socialize free of self or externally imposed restrictions, to achieve the highest place in Abraham Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs--"Self Actualization," you have to breakthrough by "breaking from" your self-inhibiting nature. In treating phobias, for example, psychologists use "flushing" to expose phobics to their fears. They increase the duration until the fear dissipates. Let's get on to strategy. First, make a personal mission statement to overcome it. Write it down, keep it on your person, reflect on it constantly--push yourself with it. Use positive schema to reinforce your new self-perception (schema is how we talk to ourselves.) Second, identify the situations where you are most shy. Third, find & confide your goal to someone (preferably several people) who fit your model "social butterfly" (i.e. coaches.) Fourth, work up some scripts (things to say) interact with your butterfly, etc., and visualize yourself being social. It's the performance that counts--destroy self doubt. Fifth, enter those frightening situations with positive outcomes worked out in your head and use your "social butterfly(s)" to propel you. Critique it later and go out again. Lastly, release yourself. You'll never overcome it if you don't push yourself past the fear, past the discomfort. Who cares if you're nervous? It'll pass. Exposure breeds composure. And be the you, the world wants to know, all the way live, and any which way you feel. You're always the starter in your own life!

Phyllis Diller once said, "Don't go to bed mad, stay up and FIGHT!" Oh, you're in a bitchy mood. Then punch and kick something, something heavy (but forgiving) til ya collapse with utter exhaustion. Once you recover, do it again! Want some more? Do it again! Pretty soon you'll be overcome by the Sleep Monster and before you get done checking your eyelids for holes, you may have a dream or two. Your last dream may be of a beautiful nubian Goddess caressing your face with her tongue. And when you open your eyes it will be Fido! The pooch! You're always the starter in your own life!

Airshows are awesome. The Willow Gove Naval Air Station is not far from me. If you haven't witnessed the power and fury of a jet fighter (such as the F15) shooting up to the heavens, it's a charge. And boy they are loud. If you haven't seen a Stealth fighter or a B2 bomber, they're unbelievable. Several years ago I was out with a courier on the road when a B2 flew overhead. People were pulling over everywhere. It was huge, quiet and macabre. It was straight out of a Batman movie. It's not the billion dollar price tag, it's the way it looks and how quiet it moves through the air for something so large. After that, I think I woke up in the middle of the night and called myself a liar! You're always the starter in your own life!

Thanks for the article from Popular Science. The Centaur slide show was cool. Reminds me of the phrase, "I'll believe that when they find bird poop in a cuckoo clock!" You're always the starter in your own life!

It's 8:40 at night in Chalfont, PA., on Rt. 202 when I pass a slow moving truck towing a trailer with a sign. As I go around him there's a guy riding a Segway wearing a blinking vest in front of him. I look it up on the internet, and whatdayaknow: http://www.wired.com/news/culture/0,1284,64776,00.html?tw=wn_tophead_6 Web designer ditches job to travel for 3 months, 3,000 miles from Seattle to Boston. http://www.10mph.com/ You're always the starter in your own life!

Hokusai Katsushika's "In the Hollow of the Wave off the coast at Kanagawa." Hokusai (1760-1849) produced some 30,000 works of art. The West appreciates him more then in Japan. His works were snapped up by famous artists such as Claude Monet, Edgar Degas and Henri Toulouse-Lautrec and his affect on impressionist painters was indelible. You're always the starter in your own life!

Hey Brotherman Nico! You're a funny guy. You probably won't even check this thread thinking it died. Well, it's alive! First (if I may,) skydiving is an outdoor event that, even though it's social, is extremely individualistic. Furthermore, life is social and interactive. What I'm trying to say is that the confidence gained from skydiving is a confidence associated with physical events. The confidence you're looking for is directly proportional to social events & situations (exposure brings composure.) Over many years I've interviewed some 300+ applicants for positions where I work. Studies show we hire people like ourselves or have traits which we admire. Dude! You're a likable guy who would instill confidence and convey competence in your ability to get the job done. Apply elsewhere.. and tell your employer that, if you don't get a raise, you're leaving! Whatever you do, keep pumpin' into your 401 k and investments baby! Regardless of job and finances. ... EAT LIFE OR LIFE WILL EAT YOU! You're always the starter in your own life!

This past weekend was one of the most memorable Halloweens I’ve ever had. Before I get started I just want to say some names have been changed to conceal the guilty. Although I arrived at my buddy Bill’s house two hours before the party, we showed up sober an hour late. Muscular Bill came as a Flapper Girl, replete with black dress, exposed biceps, net stockings and boots while I, duh, showed up as a skydiver. Okay, corny, I know. But it’s an easy crowd and I got snookered on short notice. Although I’ve known Bill a long time, I never knew how much he liked his body. Must have been the outfit. It seems like every time I go out partying with my buds in the Harrisburg area, I always find a way to puke. I crossed my fingers. Ryan and Sharon, hosting the party, are quietly the talk of the party. I don’t know what the big deal is… so what if they have a tripod mounted video camera in their bedroom? While food is in the kitchen, the party is in their large basement. There, I meet a host of people, many of which I can’t recall their names. Young Noel, a 6’3” slim Italian fella, is, I’m told, very handsome (I’ve never been a good judge of looks for guys.) An Air Force sergeant; Iraq war vet; he, in a very animated fashion, proceeds to tell a small audience about his last love, who he had no sexual attraction for, and his new love, who he can’t commit to. Bill’s 70-something parents exit. Suddenly, in the middle of the party, internet ordained Minister Sharon conducts a wedding ceremony for Darryl and Cynthia. And it’s real! Moments later the cake falls over and everyone laughs. In short order beer guzzling, daiquiris and shots follow with Noel doing the beer chugging honors. Somehow, in all that fiasco, Bill and I end up outside on the deck with rock music kickin’ from Ryan and Sharon’s neighbors’ house. When I turn to Bill the plan is hatched. If the, “it’s not easy bein’ cheesy” costumes from our party don’t tell everyone we’re handcuffs away from white trash, the neighbor’s professionally tailored costumes do. These cats went all out! From Satan to rocker Slash, to Football player and car accident victims, these outfits were A-rated Hollywood material. After securing the objective (more beer) in their garage, we proceed to introduce ourselves and mingle with the crowd. We meet Grog and his wife (name?) Okay, it’s beer on an empty stomach, okay? Anyway, they look more Flintstoned then the Flintstones. Although she’s not particularly attractive, her outfit and stunning legs stir with animal magnetism. I then proceed to say something stupid like, “With legs that hot no wonder Grog ran after you.” He hands me a “Grog for President” finger sign which I slip under my tank top t-shirt. It’s then that the owner of the house, Tim, introduces himself and his wife Lois, in Amish getup. Lois, an alluring dirty blonde with a slight resemblance to a friends’ ex-wife, moves with beautiful serenity. Tim steals back my attention with how he met her at Disney World while vacationing with his daughter and she, with her son. The first time the newlyweds met, at a Disney snack bar, she shot him down. Somehow he mustered the courage to talk to her again, when Cupid struck. I suddenly thought about when this happened to me awhile back. I was standing at the swoop pond when she walked by. Suddenly, in the sky above her, a fat cherub shot an arrow at me, giggled and flew off. I still haven’t met her and life’s been hell ever since. After rassling with the kids at the party that started with some Jiu Jitsu submissions, I ended up back in the garage in a circle of people with Lois grabbing my bicep. To convince me how strong she was, a biceps flex turned into some stand up rasslin. The moment I reached back and picked her up in the air, Tim came into the room. I knew instantly I had f**ked up. She clung to him like Velcro. Pangs of jealousy peered through his eyes. After a decent interval, it was time to go. Now 2 a.m., the party back at Ryan and Sharon’s was fading. While later I learned that “G” had nude photos on the internet as well as a video of her manhandling a vibrating object, she was just a buxom acquaintance when we met. As conversations go, this one went sexual, with something about “neighbor guy” stopping by to “give the pleasure.” The next thing I know “G” is on my lap outside next to the hot tub wanting to tongue wrestle with her pierced tongue and cigarette breath. It was time to go. Now I know some of you are saying, “Man I’d hit it!” etc. I’ll just plead, “2 paragraphs up.” Noel, we heard, tried to leave the party on his motorcycle but got a ride instead. A cop picked them up when they pulled over for Noel to puke, and the same cop continued to follow them another puke and 20 miles later. They said it was a stressful ride except for passed out Noel. When we got home to Bill’s at 3:30 a.m. I was fading fast. My friend Don watched from inside the house as I said to Bill, “Bill, I’m a man of class and distinction, would you mind?” Bill nodded and looked the other way as I vomited on his flower garden (I forgot to aim.) Inside I brushed by Don, flopped on the couch and crashed next to some stinky feet I wouldn’t realize were so stinky til a 7 a.m. hangover call (kids were everywhere.) Goodness grief. I should eat before drinking or eat and not drink. Oh hell. How was your Halloween? You're always the starter in your own life!

Bravo! You're always the starter in your own life!

My father was 39 and my mother, 17, (22 year age difference) when they got hitched. He started as the next door neighbor who dropped her off at high school when he was 37 and she was 15 (he was my grandmother’s age.) John F. Kennedy was 36 when he tied the knot with 24-year-old Jacqueline Bouvier (12 year difference.) From what I’ve read, older men younger women tend to fare better then older woman younger man. There’s a maturity thing and a parent-child component that can be an issue. Since you’re about a generation older, values come into play. Ultimately, it’s all about how you feel which pretty much renders all opinion irrelevant. Some interesting things about attraction--if she has a resemblance to you, that’s a powerful lure—people are attracted to those who look like them. The resemblance lies in the symmetry of the face and shape of the body. If you find she mirrors you (mirroring) when you’re conversing (posing in the same manner) that’s often an indicator of attraction. If laughter comes easy, that’s significant too. Studies show that fear on a first date (such as rollercoasters, bungee jumping and skydiving) heightens attraction. And, above all, duration of eye contact. I read something that said people are more likely to hop in the sack on a first date with someone who’s very funny, then one who’s not. This brings me to a point you made. Wait before getting intimate. I was talking to a counselor who told me to wait before getting intimate whenever I meet that special someone (wherever she is.) When I think of that I ponder the impossibility of reason. Anyway, her point was that sex early in a relationship makes it a focal point of the connection, often eclipsing the most important aspect of all—developing a deep friendship. Essentially, time spent on the interactions that build an enduring bond, elevates the sex, deepens the romance and tends to result in more fulfilling, longer lasting relationships. My goodness I’m a wordy bastard! I guess my 2 cents ended up being between a buck three-eighty and eleventeen dollars! Good luck dude! The feeling itself is a statistical impossibility. Cheers! You're always the starter in your own life!

Thanks Douva! I was not familiar with metabolic obesity. Interesting articles. Thanks! You're always the starter in your own life!

PT! That’s physical training Sweet peas! It’s Exercise! It’s pushing steel till your arms burn until you can't lift them to pick your own nose (as opposed to someone else’s.) It’s running till you’re out of breath and suckin’ wind. It’s the pain and sweat and fatigue. It’s the clash of will versus desire. It’s the place where pain is weakness leaving the body. PT! In the race for fitness, there is no finish line! There’s only the ever rising mountain ahead. It’s the shining path towards physical perfection. Beneath that veneer of loose flesh is a creature made of fibrous muscular steel wanting to get out. Motivation is the fuel but PT is the igniter that will burn off that overcoat to reveal that which all desire. Those with the willpower will drive through their exhaustion and fight every moment to avoid falling among those measly run-drops on the side of the road, suckin’ wind and hurlin’ chow on the beaten path to Quittin’ Land. One must fight up from the chasm between panic city and desperation gulch, where willpower falls at the slightest excuse. Sympathy hell! You can find sympathy between shit and syphilis in the dictionary!! Get back on that treadmill! Get back on that bike! Do another mile around the track! Never give up, never say die! Never ever stop and never ask why! PT Baby! It’s good fer ya! .. as the God of Running says (Nike) Just Do It! You're always the starter in your own life!

That Santa shot cracked me up--"Look Santa, Beer Clouds." When kids pose together, one of them always mugs another. I read a study that was done where they asked graduating high school seniors what their outlook on life was and then took their photo. The researchers caught up with them 30 years later and asked them the same question and took another photo. Guess what changed? Nothing! Their expressions tended to match their photo. If you were a happy kid you were most likely going to be a happy adult. I guess there's not a lot of happy kid pictures out there (ha, ha, ha.) You're always the starter in your own life!

It always cracks me up the transformation people make from bein' little crumbsnatchers to bein' all growed up. If ya got 'em, post 'em. There's always time for a good laugh. Here's me unemployed as a kid, then overworked now... You're always the starter in your own life!

Exercise is a like a one-a-day vitamin to me. From running to swimming to weightlifting. What's that old phrase? "Pain is weakness leaving the body." I have various gadgets from a Nike Heart Monitor to my Timex GPS that I use to track the time & distance I run. It helps me keep the mind-body connection going. I never get sick (never missed a day of work in over +18 years.) Here's a 3-month snapshot (photo) of the miles I've racked. You're always the starter in your own life!

That Rocks! You're always the starter in your own life!

When bad things happen life just stops. Take solace in the certainty that Travis will be fine. What? 6 months to recover? So, life takes a detour.. but Travis will be fine. He will go through emotional hairpin turns as he careens through this difficult period of his life. It can be that moment when no one is around and he feels abandoned.. or the feeling that those around him should be more comforting, more empathetic to his condition. He'll want others to know the pain he feels from his injuries. He will learn a lot about himself. He might like some cozy furry things while he's laid up; flowers, jokes, comedy tapes, hugs, pictures, cards, hugs and tons of visits from family and friends. Bring him his music, okay, headphones. Hell, get a bunch of his friends to wear his clothes and come visit him!#$% He'll laugh his ass off when they show up to see him wearing his street duds--and you wearing his favorite shirt, hat, RIG. Top it off by showing him pictures of you, his best friend, etc., driving his car, sleeping in his bed, working at his job (just plain hilarious shit!) you know--holding down the fort while he's temporarily indisposed. You're all just the Army of Travis Love taking to the parade grounds until he returns. This may sound a tad over the top, but when someone's down, nothing's over the top. Renew his hope for the future--a brighter future once this adversity passes.. and it will. Tough times don't last.. tough people DO. This is my vibe to you and Travis. I add a warm stream of energy that I picture going out from me to you and Travis. And take solace in the certainty that Travis will be fine. He'll be just fine. You're always the starter in your own life!

*** I've heard of people breaking up with themselves because they couldn't keep up with themselves.. then making up a short time later. Doesn't take much I hear. You're always the starter in your own life!

On a serious note, this was reported in a newspaper in New Jersey. A Marlton couple stopped at a liquor store and the wife went in to get some wine for a party. Shortly thereafter, the store owner locked the door and turned the lights out. After 10 minutes, the husband became disturbed and knocked on the door. Seeing no response he called her name and banged repeatedly then went to the back door and banged some more expecting his wife to come out. Enraged, he returned to his car where he retrieved a crowbar, smashed in the door window setting off alarms then proceeded to run up and down the aisles shouting for his wife. In the Wine aisle he discovered the store owner over top of his wife performing oral sex on her. Just as he attacked the store owner the police arrived and arrested them both. Three months later the sexual assault charge against the store owner was thrown out!!@#$ The store owner.. he had a liquor license. You're always the starter in your own life!

16. Strange. I sighed when I heard the cherry hit the floor. I looked but it was gone. From that day forward I’ve asked (subliminally) every girl I’ve been with, “Do you have my cherry?” And in the midst of passion they’ve replied (also subliminally) “Yes.” But they’re all liars. I don’t think I’ll ever get my cherry back. Each has stolen a piece of my cherry, it was my cherry damn you! That place of innocence and naiveté from which I came is gone from me forever! Now I’m damned by thoughts of lustful desire, sloppy kisses and debauchery (with a few midgets thrown in for spiciness.) While twisting in the throes of debauchery I create wicked games… Example: Ever have a sexy breakfast? Maybe it’s Shredded Wheat..Co Coa Puffs.. or Cheerios. Across from you sits your desire, naked. But the two of you don’t eat your cereal. Oh no, you nibble as it dribbles sexily down your face while you stare into her eyes with wanton desire. Works for me! Gotta go! (Flips up the cape and disappears.) You're always the starter in your own life!