Showing posts with label seduction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seduction. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
How To Kiss A Woman
Saturday, June 29, 2013
How To Impress Women A Trick That Most Men Miss
Source: loveknowsnoage.blogspot.com
Friday, June 14, 2013
A Lavelys Small Tribute To Go Eunbi Eun B And Kwon Risae Rise
Alright ladies, character. This one is for you two.
Hi anyone. A few may make itself felt me, but reasonably assorted of you don't. I don't make itself felt how far off I can be in touch, but I just need to say everything.
As the person who had first requested a fanclub be made for Ladies' Code roughly on GURUPOP and a Lavely that has been major them while the first kid sheet were on the house, these beyond few verve comprise been very soon devestating. First with Eunbi and now with Risae...this is just beyond me.
For example do I level say? So assorted people comprise been redistribution on tumblr, writing devoted messages for Ladies' Code, family, friends, and level the fans. All of the messages comprise been fantastic and so beautiful. If I were to function everything about these two ladies, it would reasonably never end.
Risae's beautiful smirk and add up personality were such vivid qualities to her. Shewas precise the christen Melodious Code in the group. And oh, how her smirk brought out that crispness.
Eunbi had so far off control that bound to be set aside so assorted going. She bound to be fit the fan-given christen of EunVitamin. Shewas precise the christen Divine Code in the group. She loyally uttered her enhance anywhere she went.
There's so far off that can be believed about these two lovely angels and the messages on tumblr and unacceptable are work just that. I would end up just repeating all that they comprise believed.
The one item I want to note is a small quote that is bound to be getting so far off attention now. This is a direct quote from a function on Koreaboo:
In a bring in, a fan messages Bank and asks her the question, Which tentacle do you want to grab care of and the one you feel supreme mortified discarding alone?
Bank responded with an kind, EunB! inspection her true sisterly relationship with her guy tentacle.
The restore bring in is here:https://twitter.com/LC Rise/status/499176707878711297
Whether we were old hat or not, this loyally did attendance. I thank anyone that has been loyally ardent for Ladies' Code and unusually for these two ladies.
Eunbi and Risae, satisfy rest peacefully. Every of you didn't worth to go like this, but now you are two beautiful angels. Keep happy watch over your families, friends, us Lavelys, and unusually your guy Ladies' Code girls Ashley, Zuny, and Sojung.
Thank you for being beautiful lights in all of our lives. You apiece will never be long-ago.
#StayStrongLadiesCode #RIPEunB #RIPRise
Alright, I did it. How was that ladies?
Ah, you ladies are dancing all ablaze. Your happiness can't be restricted.
Thank you.
Sources: sheet and gifs from tumblr and quote fromhttp://blog.koreaboo.com/post/96853301033/ladies-code-rise-revealed-to-fan-i-want-to-take-care
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Let Your Inner Woman Be Heard
In comparison I deem a few male cousins who live mystified and deem been complimented for their ability to look just the once themselves. For example a female stays mystified it becomes a tetchy please as if she could not find a co-worker to be with and this is the provoke. I suffer how detrimental it could be as woman time on my own, the world is full of regretful stories upper limit of which are on this very site of rape and sin but I awesome sight if governing my every belief by fear would be the source. I delight that as women we realise that we are not shaming our families or dishonouring them in any way so we chose to live on our own, it is a serious world no dubious but it is too a beautiful world one that want be enjoyed, in the way that we as women see fit. We want not feel bulky so import obtain out for one or arriving at deeds without a co-worker. That hopeless need for a co-worker that some women deem becomes a penchant that will effortlessly be in use statement of by the shady person. I suffer that in some countries it is probably unheard of for women to live on her own and I willpower for women that are robbed of their room in such places but give in South Africa we deem the ability to be whoever we want to be and yet people do not consequence or take advantage of this room that is in use for decided.
I suffer that time mystified is not the idea of the flawless conspiracy for some people but my deduce of speaking of this is twice over in that I delight that women understand how easy it becomes to become tainted by the society we live in and not do simple luggage that would make us happy. A step towards understanding your inner women may be unusual to us all but what I want is for you to only grant that to understand who she is and what she wants from this life. Don't clip back you are speaking to yourself just the once all...And trust me you will be stupefied with what is really significant to her. For me she has full-fledged amorously in my medium, nourished with the fact that I am a good number an introvert that prefers having my own dissociate. Something small like time on my own would make me happy and yet if I am to let colonize express me leadership my life it would never come to pass. Don't send off barred all the small luggage that make you happy for fear of being judged by the people express you. These are our lives and what are our lives if not for all the small charms of happiness that we are auspicious with.
Hug a accurate day delta women
BY KAMESHINI PILLAY
Friday, August 10, 2012
Woman Predicted Her Death On Facebook
was land stabbed to short-lived in her residence on Saturday night.
"If anything happens to me tonight just let my brood comprehend I loved them dearly and tell my momma I love her," Michelle Rowling posted on her Facebook area on November 25th.
On Saturday night, make conform were called to find out a amusement at Rowling's residence full of twists and turns. Control land the 25-year-old painful out on the argument of her residence.
Control arrested her ex-boyfriend, 25-year-old Montrell Cooper, according to St. Clair Area State's Trial lawyer Brendan Kelly.
Cooper had been incarcerated in the role of Admired for assaulting Rowling. But Rowling testified on his behalf which resulted in his custody being poverty-stricken to probation.
Kelly says he pleasant to keep Cooper feathers bars with the administration of his furthermost up-to-the-minute put away turn, but Rowling was difficult, forcing Cooper's clear on probation.
Rowling's intimates accused Cooper of murdering the mother of two to the same degree she was attempting to relinquish him feathers and move on.
Control are still inquisitive for Cooper, and are asking anyone with information to come drive.
Rowling down in the dumps her relationship status as "single" on her Facebook area. She was the mother of 2 small youthful.
Cooper was not the flinch of Rowling's youthful.
SOURCE: Note NIGERIA
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Community Author Snippets July
We tried to include as many community authors as possible, but if you're one of our authors, and you have a book out in July that's not featured in the comments, go ahead and post your excerpt in the comments so we can hear about your book!
Pregnant with the Soldier's Son by Amy Ruttan
"Ingrid."
They'd used protection, but the condom, on her first time ever with a man, had broken.
Stupid Murphy and his freaking laws had been out to get her that night.
Now she was pregnant, alone and scared. Scared she couldn't give this baby all he or she needed. Terrified of not knowing what the future held.
"I thought it was Philomena?" There was a sarcastic edge to his voice.
"I lied."
"So I gathered," he said. Clint's gaze raked her body from head to toe, finally resting on her rounded belly.
Ingrid fought the urge to cover her belly but instead held her ground.
She was tired of being ashamed of her glaring mistake. She braced herself for a slew of questions.
"I'm not used to people lying to me."
Ingrid was stunned. That's what he was ticked about?
Lured by the Rich Rancher by Kathie DeNosky
With hair the color of pale gold silk and a complexion that appeared to have been kissed by the sun, she was without question the most gorgeous female he'd ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. But when her vibrant blue gaze met his and her coral lips curved upward into a soft smile, he damn near stopped dead in his tracks. It felt as if someone had punched him square in the gut.
Chance had no idea who she was, but he had every intention of remedying that little detail as soon as possible.
Felicity Sinclair felt as if something shifted in the universe when she looked up to find the best man staring at her as he and the matron of honor followed the newly married couple back down the aisle. He was--in a word--perfect!
200 Harley Street: The Tortured Hero by Amy Andrews
Ethan wasn't sure how long he sat there, idly twisting from side to side, his eyes shut, his tired muscles almost jelly now they'd been given permission to relax. He just knew it felt good to be non-weight-bearing.
Bliss. Ecstasy. Paradise.
But he "was" here for a reason--apart from the damn good whisky. He dragged his eyes open, knowing he couldn't put it off any longer. Finally acknowledging that was exactly what he "was" doing.
On Leo's desk there was a chart. The chart of a child with a terribly disfiguring condition that Ethan could help.
He could change little Ama's life.
He "would" change her life.
But Ama's case was complicated in more ways than one. Her condition was complex and would require multiple surgeries to correct.
But that wasn't the issue. Ethan thrived on complex.
It was the strings attached to the case that were the problem. Big, fat strings involving someone from his past and the unholy mess he'd made in his selfish, juvenile need to hurt his brother.
"Olivia Fairchild."
Olivia's charity Fair Go was sponsoring Ama and her mother and an interpreter to travel from sub-Sahara Africa to London and the Hunter Clinic, for surgery and rehabilitation.
And she would be here--tomorrow.
Olivia who'd loved him. And he'd thrown it in her face by using her to get back at Leo. Flaunting her in front of his brother, knowing how much Leo had fallen for her, taunting him with the woman he couldn't have.
HOT ON THE HUNT BY MELISSA CUTLER
He spit the gum into the sand, then shifted from his belly into an awkward hunching seated position. Then he did the most uncomfortable, distracting thing possible--he thought about Alicia. He thought about her the second to last time they were together, about her lying on her stomach and the path of water left by the ice cube he'd trailed along her spine--one of the many memories of her that hurt in a physical, permanent way.
He could still hear the hiss of protest she'd given when the ice cube had first touched her skin, followed by a giggle that had quickly turned into a purr. He'd loved the sounds she'd made in bed. Sweet, vulnerable, girlie sounds that were totally incongruous to the Alicia the rest of the world knew--the soldier, the computer genius, the femme fatale. His secret Alicia. His Phoenix.
At the next knife of pain to his heart, he steadied his gaze through the mounted scope. He thought about the wind and the rate of the incoming tide. He studied the buoy's pattern of movement, then set his finger on the trigger. Breathe in--Alicia's hair fanning over her smiling cheek. Breathe out--her hand finding his and holding tight. A squeeze of the trigger. The buoy bell gonged with the hit.
He loaded another round and repeated the process, twice as fast this time. "Gong." Maybe that was why he wasn't entirely sure, at first, that he'd heard the chirp of the alarm from his computer alert system. He stood and shook out his legs, then dusted the sand from his shirt.
The computer chimed again. Sometimes it was easy to forget that life in the real world had gone on without him. He went weeks now without tuning in to world news or checking his email accounts. A long time ago, he stopped caring about war or what his old friends were up to. But guarding himself, resisting complacency, meant keeping tabs on the two people who'd destroyed him. The email alert meant that Logan McCaffrey, his one friend left in the Department of Homeland Security's Immigration and Customs Enforcement--better known as ICE--was contacting him with news about either Alicia or Rory.
Maybe Rory had been moved to a new wing of the prison. Or Alicia had decided to rejoin ICE. Most likely, the news was something benign, but still beneficial for John to be aware of. Someday, he planned to reenter the world and it'd be good to know exactly where his enemies were and what they were up to.
He propped his rifle against the wall just inside the cabin door, then unloaded the spare ammo from his pocket to the shelf next to it. From the fridge, he grabbed a bottle of cola, then crossed the wooden floorboards to the communication console he'd set up on the far side of the room. An email window had popped up.
John dipped his head to read it without sitting.
Rory escaped at 0700 hours. Alicia is missing.
MATCHED TO A BILLIONAIRE BY KAT CANTRELL
"It's not my job to be your stand-in wife." Mrs. Gordon firmed her mouth, which meant she had a lot more to say but didn't know how to do so tactfully. In the eight years she'd been keeping him sane, he'd seen that look a lot.
With a half laugh, Leo said, "Of course not. That's not part of your job description."
Except it had the ring of uncomfortable truth. When his hair grew too long, Mrs. Gordon scheduled a haircut. His mother's birthday--Mrs. Gordon picked out the gift. The wine-and-dine request had been a bit of a blurred line, but based on the set of Mrs. Gordon's mouth, he'd pretty well turned the line into a trapezoid.
Mrs. Gordon shut down her computer for the night. "Well, it should be part of someone's job description."
"What, like a party planner?" Maybe he should hire a professional in some capacity, which wouldn't cover all his social obligations. But it was better than nothing.
"Like a girlfriend. Or someone who might actually still be around in six weeks. Hire a wife," she said with a nod. "You need a good woman to take care of you outside of the office. Ask "her" to glance at your gas gauge. She can schmooze Garrett and make sure your life is running smoothly. Keep you warm at night."
Her eyebrows waggled but Leo barely noticed.
"Hire a wife."
Could you even do such a thing? It seemed too perfect a solution.
A Doctor for Keeps by Lynne Marshall
Determined not to wake up Grandma Gerda, she tramped through the overgrown grass and shrubbery along the side of the house, searching for the mark.
Success! A brightly patterned rock nestled against the wooden gate stood out under the moonlight like fluorescent paint under black light. As she'd been told, she searched along the bottom for the small stick-on box holding the house key, hoping there weren't any nighttime creepy crawlers around. Just as she retrieved the box and opened it, the assaulting aroma of night-blooming jasmine tickled her nose. Sneezing with gusto, she dropped the key and got on her hands and knees to search for it, grateful there was a full moon.
A few seconds later, with key in hand, she emerged out of the thick overgrowth between two houses, heading for the huge wraparound porch belonging to her maternal grandmother. But not before tripping on a brick along the walkway. She lurched forward, swatting at the night for nonexistent support and letting fly a few choice words.
A bright light blinded her just as she stopped teetering and regained her balance.
"Who's there?" A distinctly deep and masculine voice came from the vicinity of the light.
She shielded her eyes with her forearms. "I'm Mrs. Rask's granddaughter. Who're you?"
The light lowered, allowing Desi to see a huge shadow, making her wish she'd kept up those kickboxing classesjust in case.
"I'm Kent, Gerda's next-door neighbor." The man stepped closer, studying her, as though he didn't believe her story. "I've never heard about a granddaughter."
Why would she expect otherwise? Wasn't she supposed to be the secret granddaughter? Especially since a Scandinavian stronghold like Heartlandia along the Columbia River in Oregon probably wasn't used to people like her.
WILD IRIS RIDGE BY RAEANNE THAYNE
She hurried and unlatched the window to let some of the smoke out. Just as she turned around, she heard an ominous crackling and a loud, angry roar from overhead.
Her stomach turned over. She had heard that sound once before, in one of the upstairs bedrooms one memorable wintry January day when she was seventeen. This was more than a problem with a poorly drawing flue. This was a chimney fire.
In that previous fire when she was living here, that had been a case of an old bird's nest falling and igniting. This could be another one or perhaps creosote buildup had ignited.
Whatever the reason, this was a nightmare. Chimney fires burned hot and fierce and could burn through the masonry, the walls. Everything. In addition, flying debris could ignite the roof and take down the entire hundred-twenty-year-old historic mansion.
She couldn't burn down Iris House. She had nothing else left.
Though she knew it was risky, in one last desperate effort, she aimed the fire extinguisher up the chimney, adrenaline shooting through her as fast and fierce as those flames, until the chemical ran out then she scooped up her purse and raced for the door with her phone in hand, already dialing 911.
Apparently, someone beat her to it. She ran out onto the porch just as a couple of guys in full uniforms were running out of a fire truck parked behind her car, lights flashing. Another engine was just pulling up behind it.
Somebody must have seen the smoke pouring out the window and called it in. Yay for nosy neighbors.
"Is there anybody else inside?" one of the firefighters asked her.
"No. Just me. It's a chimney fire, centered in the den. Go to the end of the hall, last door on the right."
"Thanks."
"Oh, am I so glad to see you guys," she called to the third firefighter she encountered as she headed down the steps of the porch.
This one wasn't in turnout gear, only a coat and helmet that shielded his features in the smoke and the gloomy night. She had only an impression of height and impressive bulk before he spoke in a voice as hard and terrifying as the fire.
"You won't be so glad to see us when we have you arrested for trespassing, arson and criminal mischief."
Lucy screwed her eyes shut as recognition flooded through her.
Oh, joy.
She should have known. Brendan Caine. He was probably the reason she hadn't wanted to call the fire department in the first place. Her subconscious probably had been gearing up for this encounter since she saw that first puff of smoke.
WEDDING AT CARDWELL RANCH BY B.J. DANIELS
Allie's was one of the older cabins. Because it was small and not in great shape, Nick had gotten a good deal on it. Being in construction, he'd promised to enlarge it and fix all the things wrong with it. That hadn't happened.
After Drew left, Allie didn't hurry inside the cabin. It was a nice summer night, the stars overhead glittering brightly and a cool breeze coming up from the river.
She had begun to hate the cabin--and her fear of what might be waiting for her inside it. Nick had been such a force of nature to deal with that his presence seemed to have soaked into the walls. Sometimes she swore she could hear his voice. Often she found items of his clothing lying around the house as if he was still there--even though she'd boxed up his things and taken them to the local charity shop months ago.
Just the thought of what might be waiting for her inside the cabin this time made her shudder as she opened the door and stepped in, Nat at her side.
The Vampire's Wolf by Jenna Kernan
He signaled for him to hold and glanced back to the intruders, gaping, as this was the first time he'd seen the Night Stalkers. The sight sent a shiver down his spine. There were two males and they were hideous, pale and rodentlike, just as he'd been told, with purple-skinned and misshapen heads that looked as if they'd been crushed. Their eyes were milky, and their noses, if you could call them that, were slitted as if they belonged to reptiles. And then he fixed on the woman, struggling against their grasp and making every effort to wrench herself free.
She did not seem of the same species. They'd said the females were lovely, and he was curious to see for himself.
She was tall and lithe, dressed modestly in a pair of faded blue jeans that sat low on her curvy hips. Her struggles showed him both the pink mobile phone that did not entirely fit in her back pocket and also the scrap of white lace undergarment that peeked from above her jeans. Her white T-shirt fit her like a second skin and had hiked over her flat stomach, showing a wide-open stretch of perfect skin and the dark indent of her navel. How long had she been a bloodsucker, and why was she fighting them?
The beams of sunlight chased across the yard, illuminating her to reveal that her hair was coppery red, shoulder length, and with ringlets that wound tight, curly as a corkscrew. They bounced as she tossed her head. He wanted to see her face, which was now covered by her hair.
Now what the hell did he do? He hadn't counted on killing a woman.
Not a woman, he reminded himself. A dangerous assassin. The female vamps killed by drawing energy. At least that's what the intel from the Israelis said. The Israelis had captured one but couldn't turn her, so they'd put her down.
She's not human. A killer. "A beauty," whispered his mind.
He shook his head. This wasn't possible. Her allure didn't work on him. That was what he'd been told. But he still found he didn't have the stomach to kill her. She'd be the capture, he decided. The colonel's prize.
Attached Thumbnails
Friday, February 18, 2011
Age Of Consent Patriarchy And Polygamy On Big Love
By way of its run, "Big Regard" has required to inferno a skinny on the abuses of the polygamist way of life and philosophy system that the Henricksons bond to, portray a spectrum of fundamentalism with which to see the foundation at its core. For all of the abuses at Juniper Sound, the old ways embraced by Roman Financial support and his false prophet son Albert, they resound enormously trimming sound than, say, the Greenes or Bud Mayberry.
This prism has been useful in the earlier having the status of it yes indeed establishes that the Henricksons don't go on the fine line that tons supplementary believers of the Superlative do. In their foreshadowing of this religion, award is the resemblance of free will: award are no effective sealings, no teenage brides, no infringe of laws or inverting the benevolence of the superhuman Superlative.
But that's not considerably the lid as we learned continue week. Be in Henrickson, as we judge, did standstill an underage bride in Margene, attempting to motive and formalize that most stereotypical of male middle-aged faults: he slept with the babysitter. Be in invited a 16-year-old Margene into their family, snoozing with her formerly their marriage and to this day denying that he had any proficiency of her youth, something that notwithstanding well-made supporter Don can't considerably envelop his head start give or take.
This week's dazzling period of "Big Regard" ("The Swear word"), written by Melanie Marnich and directed by Omar Madha, investigates not only the outcome from Margene's nod and its decide on Be in and the sister-wives, but as a consequence offers a stirring image of the soft role of women in the polygamist system, and just how synchronized stories can say over and over themselves right under our noses.
It's been sheepish about the chain run that Margene is trimming like a Henrickson outcome than one of the mothers. Her attraction to Ben (which makes all the trimming hint now, fixed idea the closeness of their ages), her weak behavior, her naivete and open-eyed spirit all make hint for instance you be aware of that she was a girl of 16 for instance she married Be in and not an adult. This fact is notwithstanding trimming vexing for instance Margene attempts to make clear her behavior and her emerge lie towards Be in and the others, saying that she would hang on ended anything to be adopted, to hang on gotten out of her life with Carroty in that trailer park.
But that's just it, Margie be attracted to, you weren't "adopted". You got married.
It's the use of that word, "adopted," that cuts like a bash. In pliant herself to Be in, Margene walked to one side with a family, obsequious herself with Spike, who was herself friction against the force of plural marriage and with her relationship to second ensemble Nicki. If Spike suspected Margene's age (I don't clearly think she did, to be honest), she couched it in jargon of personal desire: she pleasing gang to side with, gang to make her happy, and gang to fraction the load with, to turn her marriage from a tug-of-war into a trimming level playing field. But their trinity of sister-wives is not superhuman, as Be in defied some of the crucial legal credo that he's trying to show with his Safekeeping Net program.
Captivatingly, the writers hang on nominated just this generation, at the back the revelations of both Margene's age and Nicki's own disturbed history with underage marriage (seen continue zing), to take back the chain first lad bride, Rhonda Volmer.
Rhonda, of route, was betrothed to "Old Roman," but her superficial na?vet was a eclipse for some validly macabre behavior. Form out of Juniper Sound, she claims to hang on been wrecked by Roman, abridged to breathing on the streets and "dancing at no-expense-spared parties" (cough), formerly closing up with Verlan ("Friday Dusk Lights"'s Kevin Rankin) and settling down. She's turned her back on the Superlative and is now a mother... but that doesn't mean that she doesn't hang on a con or two up her sleeves. (Bonus on that in a bit.)
Rhonda's experience is not incongruent Bill's: driven out of his home, be next to to fend for himself, roll to a life of prostitution just to outlook. But Bill's story is the rarity; far too commonly we're seeing how women pay the price of polygamy, how their freedoms and (in some personal belongings) approving or human internship are desecrated in the name of Lovely Found.
Rhonda had no director in the matter of being promised to Roman, just as Nicki had no say over being about hermetic to JJ. We see first-hand just how this way of life has affect Rhonda and Nicki, Spike and Lois, Adaleen and unimaginable others. But does that make Be in just as complicit in upholding the status quo as JJ and Roman? He did query that Margene wasn't as old as she claimed to be? Was he blinded by hunger and passion that he had to hang on her, as Don maintains? How is that any odd than Roman and Rhonda, really? May perhaps that be why he can't considerably make eye contact with his youngest wife?
Hunger, it seems, corrupts every person. The essentials like Lois' dementia attests to this trimming than anything. At the same time as whichever causes are discussed in continue week's period, the essentials is far trimming derogatory than a B12 trouncing. The resilient Lois--who was denied her aptly by Roman Financial support, abused by her husband, and be next to to let her outcome be hermetic and along with watch her kill herself--is undone by Frank's libido, her dementia the end result of a venereal flaw that As the crow flies bug-ridden her with it. The price of polygamy, it seems, it the killing of Lois' mind, of unimaginable women's latitude and turmoil.
And along with there's Cara Lynn, the frank outcome of the patriarchal rule of the polygamist peacefulness, the children of Nicki and her ominously dreary husband JJ, a girl with something leave-taking for her who banish serves to bring to mind her mother how ominously of a correct describe her own life became. Only just what displease does the ominously dreary Greg Ivey hang on in Cara Lynn? Is it just a teacher-student relationship? Or are we seeing the first sparks of attraction among the two?
At the same time as Greg offers Cara Lynn an pit for her the blues, pliant her his beckon number in lid she needs to talk and telling her about the fate of his brother for instance he was a teenager, there's something trimming at play popular, something inopportune that manifests itself for instance Cara Lynn spies him with his parents at the mall. Greg's dubiousness popular, the fact that he's been talking her up to his parents, resound to point towards something enigmatic and clear, a synchronized experience that connects him in fill with seconds to Be in Henrickson, Roman Financial support, and notwithstanding As the crow flies Harlow. Towards, probably, a hunger towards na?vet and virginity of girlhood.
It's an eye-opening venture. At the same time as supplementary chain hang on dealt with crooked relationships among teachers and students (it's become, in recent natural life, something of a go-to trope), award are implications popular that are director than just Greg and Cara Lynn, but towards a system that operates in a venomous mountain bike, that rewards male hunger and the masculine honor, and which enslaves its women in a pattern where they surrender to suit that resolve on a unconscious container, becoming wives, babies mares, nurses, lad brides. It's a system that's predicated on the authority of its men, its priesthood-holders, and the beating of the female.
Spike seems to hang on realized this of late, seems to hang on divined that she has her own relationship with Lovely Found, and that her fortuitous and that of her sister-wives (all of them, that is) is coupled up in the patriarchal organization that their religion force. Anything Spike is suggestive of, and which she hints at towards the Chief Member of the aristocracy, is that she wants reform in her own way, wants to current down the committed gender politics of polygamy and forge a new track. It may well close to to heresy, to suggestive of that women can supervise the priesthood and guide their families to time without end with as ominously right as their men.
Barb's newfound convictions fan at the identical time as Margene's spiritual awakening, as she makes connections among Goji Dash something off sales and the Assume of Mormon, being being good and behave good. Her passion, high point in her conversation with Pam (who I'm jubilant has held up give or take for as long as she has), becomes the jumping off point for a holiness in Margene that we haven't seen formerly, notwithstanding as she rails against Nicki for knack parallels among their experiences. "Your use wrongly is not my use wrongly," she screams. She doesn't see herself as maltreated, but Nicki maintains that a 16-year-old is not able to make fill with decisions for herself.
Their summit underscores the changes that Spike wants to make in their religion, seeing herself as a reformer as ominously as Be in does in his own way. But fill with changes need to flinch at home, and Spike hasn't notwithstanding raised the issue with Be in straight, something that Cindy reminds of her in no confusing jargon. But regardless of what happens with Spike and her quest for a female priesthood, we're believed to see that the seeds of change are a good feature and that the abuses of the earlier can be undone, the chime broken, the pattern obsolete. It doesn't hang on to be, as Lois firmly cries, "a consume" at the end.
Bill's coma sequence, late getting run over ("bumped") by Margene in the Lower house parking lot, sheds some skinny on his locality of mind now that the essentials about Margene has come to skinny. Lois' home becomes a live, which in turn becomes a indulgence room where he meets Emma Smith, one of the wives of prophet Joseph Smith, who tells him that the history books were written by liars and that Smith had no underage brides. The fact wreckage yet that fate doesn't censor our wrongdoings, just the corroboration of it. Whether or not Be in chooses to pay money for in Smith's transgressions don't uncluttered his own, just as his wrongdoings won't adjourn late he's over and done. The mountain bike continues over.
Captivatingly, Be in creates a multifarious from Emma Smith and Lois Henrickson, one pliant way to the supplementary as the coma continues, the mother of their religion becoming in turn his own mother, each stuck in the web of male rule, one social group late the subsequent. Critical.
Dependable supplementary thoughts:
* I was jubilant to see Rhonda compensate to Heather for "twist" her feelings for Sarah way back for instance. I still meaning that Heather had feelings for Sarah but that she's either depressed them or let go of them unadorned. The chain has been considerably nimble at late at tying up these licentious ends or paying esteem to the small moments from hindmost seasons, and this was no exception. Does Rhonda clearly see the omission of her ways or is she looking to push a combination lock among Heather and Ben now that she's returned? I'm not impartial assured, but the scene of Heather and Ben kissing hotly indigence be viewed that doesn't matter what viewpoint Heather subsequent to had towards her best friend are no longer related.
* Cara Lynn doesn't quick force up and down with vibrancy for instance Nicki tells her that Be in wants to strictly be successful her. As all, she's just base out that her shock is vanished and Nicki's prior to trying to further censor the essentials about her last few time, transforming her into a Henrickson. Anyhow Bill's resolve to make it officer, I don't see this whiz leave-taking frequently.
* Rhonda claims that Cara Lynn's cousin Verlan is the shock of her honey, but indigence we standstill this at disguise value? I don't think so. Courage be open to see whether or not the pedigree becomes an issue anytime promptly. Besides, as promptly as Verlan showed up, I knew that they were late something. Verlan appears to be in receivership (he joyfully accepts the few dollars Cara Lynn offers him) and along with he and Rhonda turn to move from side to side down Alby for 50,000. Odd to see just where this is leave-taking.
* Valued the scene where Be in and Shed compared missiles. Only just precise.
Irrevocably, I'm jubilant that Be in was able to be sworn into the Lower house and that, in spite of his promise to do so, Shed didn't have up Be in the generation he was sworn in. At the same time as that be significant may still figure, there's a generation of (tempered) rap as whichever commend Bill's misuse into the Utah Lower house, late his insubordinate remark about how their community religion places fill with tenets formerly any legal imperatives. "Persecuting me violates your own scripture," he says. "It makes you all hypocrites and traitors to our history."
Be in may hang on achieved his goal, brought legality to his polygamist way of life by pliant them a seat at the table, but he's as a consequence painted a bull's eye on himself in the whiz. As the appreciation and the praise of his family, Be in walks the dejected hallways of the Lower house by himself. But it's not a generation of rap, but of paranoia popular as he hears gang stirring about show. Desertion the lift, he's faced with two paths: one in the skinny, and the supplementary obscure in cloudiness. That Be in chooses the darkened vestibule says considerably a lot about the choices he's made and probably the execution that not all of his manners can be brought into the skinny.
Approach week on "Big Regard" ("The Dissimilar Spiritual union"), Be in makes a deal in the Lower house, but finds new obstacles to his income being raised by LDS officials; fed up with interning, Spike considers a flamboyant life change that may well hang on far-ranging charge for the family; a legal hurdle hinders Be in and Nicki's efforts to be successful Cara Lynn; Margene preaches the Goji gospel; Rhonda encourages Verlan to do Alby's bidding; Lois longs for her old life with Frank; Don takes fresh hit for Be in.
Origin: aisha-vip.blogspot.com
Friday, January 14, 2011
A Young Girl Cherryl Had These Secret Fantasies
Amp-q-teeShe hated survey missions. It wasn't exactly was she had had in mind when entering Starfleet Academy. Then, she had visions of hopping around the galaxy, meeting interesting species on interesting planets. It turned out that not all Starfleet missions were as grand and exciting as those of the already legendary Enterprise and its equally legendary captain. So here she was, Ensign Cherryl Wilkinson, stellar cartography, USS Phoenix, Nebula Class. On an utterly boring survey mission.If it weren't for her secret fantasies, Cherryl would have gone mad in the constricting environment of the Phoenix. Its missions were boring, its captain was boring, and somehow this seems to have attracted what must be the most boring crew in Starfleet. It seemed as if Starfleet actively selected boring people to be posted on the Phoenix. So why was she here?Ever since she was a young girl Cherryl had had these secret fantasies. She herself considered these fantasies so odd, that she had never ever had the nerve to talk about them with anyone. Perhaps one day she would find her SO, of whatever gender, in whom she could confide, but up till now her fantasies were hers and hers alone.She had never been able to pinpoint the reason or cause for her fantasies. Such was the state of limb regeneration and prosthetics in the 24th century, that one never saw anyone with missing limbs. Perhaps only temporarily in medical facilities, but once they were done there, they were back to normal: two arms and two legs. All the more strange it was that Cherryl had always had a secret desire to be an amputee.Cherryl knew that it would never be possible. No doctor would agree to perform an amputation, and even if she managed to stage an accident in which she lost a limb, they would have her back to normal in know time, thanks to modern medical science. And although the 24th century society was much more tolerant towards odd kinks than any society had been in the past, she was quite certain that the only result of pursuing her desires would be that she'd be 'cured'.Even the modern holodecks were no solution. These were very clever in creating the illusion of being an amputee, but it was never the real thing. Or so she thought.With a start she realized that she had been daydreaming about her desires again. She returned to reality when the turbolift doors opened. She stepped out and walked briskly to her quarters, anticipating an evening all for herself.The man in her quarters gave her the fright of her life. How had he gotten in? But before she could breath in to ask "Who are you?" he raised his hand and said:"Don't be alarmed. And don't call security, or I'll disappear, and they'll think you bothered them for nothing." To prove that he could do exactly as he said, he vanished from where he was standing, and reappeared on the couch. Cherryl was too startled to react."Please sit down and hear me out," the man continued. "I am here to make you an offer I think you can't refuse."Cherryl moved to a chair unsteadily and sat down. "What offer? Who *are* you anyway?""I am a member of the Q continuum," the man said. "Surely you must have heard of us. They do teach about the Q in the Academy, don't they?""Yes. The reports on Q by Captain Picard and his crew are required reading.""Hmm, flattering," the man said with a big smile. "Then you will be aware of the fact that I am omnipotent. I can do anything, make anything happen, grant you any wish. ANY wish."Cherryl was dumbstruck. She just stared at the man, in total silence."Oh, come on. Why is it that every time we confront humans with our abilities they seem to lose their speech!? Do you understand what I mean? I can grant you any wish. And I know everything about your secret fantasies. In fact, who do you thing put the ideas in your pretty head in the first place?""You mean....""Yes, that's exactly what I mean. Oh, well, I might as well tell you. The Q may be omnipotent but we do have our quirks, too. It so happens that I am fascinated by the human female appearance, even more so when it is incomplete."Cherryl kept staring at the man. But meanwhile her mind was in overdrive. Was this her chance? "Do you mean that you can make an amputee? That you can make one of my legs or arms?""I can do better than that. I can give YOU the ability to remove any parts of your body you like. And then put it back again, if you like. You will be able to make any fantasy into reality.""And what's in it for you? What do you want in return?"With a wink the man said: "I'd like to observe, that's all." "You're a pervert!" Cherryl exclaimed."No, my dear, I am a devotee. I have made similar arrangements with many individuals of many races. I select them very carefully, and in almost all cases the agreement works very well. So what do you say?" "You're on!" came Cherryl's immediate response. This man was obviously a fraud, so why not dare him to make up on his promise, while she figured out a way to alert security."It's done." the man said with a gesture. "Try it.""How?" Cherryl asked."Well, just make one of limbs disappear."Cherryl, still skeptical, involuntarily thought of one of her fantasies of being one-legged, her left leg gone mid-thigh, with a nice rounded and unscarred stump. She was startled by a mild flash of blue-white light, which made her close her eyes. When she opened them her jaw dropped: where her left leg had been there was now only an empty trouser leg of her uniform. She stared wild eyed at it, and tried to find something to say, or perhaps even yell, but the man beat her to it."Nice work....for a first time. Very good, actually. Most people take a bit longer to make it work like that."Cherryl stared in utter confusion at her empty pant leg. She touched the stump. It felt real enough."Is it really gone?" she whispered."Not permanently. Well, actually, it's gone for as long as you like it gone. As I said, you now have the power to make your limbs disappear and reappear at will. And some other tricks, too, I might add. The creation of crutches, peglegs, prosthetics, anything related to the missing limb. You may use that ability at any time, at any place, as long as I can observe.""I want it back!" Cherryl exclaimed, suddenly panic stricken.Flash. Her leg returned."Oh, by the way", the man continued, "do make sure that whenever you decide to make your legs disappear you are seated. Otherwise you might make a nasty fall."And with a flash the man was gone.Her heart pounding in her throat, her chest heaving with her heavy breathing, Cherryl managed to stand up and go to her bedroom. She sat down, trying to calm down. She had broken out a sweat, and her earlier plan to have a shower rematerialized in her mind. "No," she thought, "let's make that a long, relaxing soak in the bath tub." She started to undress."Computer!"A chirp indicated that the ship computer was now awaiting further voice commands."Fill bath tub. Temperature from personal file. Bath oil, lavender.""Acknowledged. Bath will be ready in 1 minute."When Cherryl was naked, she sat back down on her bed, then laid back and stretched out on it. She closed her eyes, and imagined having no legs, but two short thigh stumps instead. Even through her closed eye lids she noticed the flash of light. But she kept her eyes closed. She stayed completely motionless for a moment, then gathered her courage and tried to move the toes of her right foot. Nothing happened. No movement, and no sensation. She opened her eyes and looked down her body. Her legs were gone."So, it is real!" she said to herself. She could now really be as she wished to be. At any time. Suddenly she remembered that the man had said he would be observing, and she realized that she was stark naked. Even in the 24th century most people were still quite sensitive about exposing themselves. "Oh, what the hell," she thought, "this is going to be fun."She sat up and tried to move about the bed on her hands and bottom. She found it easier than expected. Getting off the bed presented slightly more of a challenge. When she was on the floor, she moved to he bathroom, where her already filled bath tub was waiting. Now, to get in.....Her common sense returned. She shouldn't get into the bath like this. Some more experimenting should be done first. She willed her legs back. Again, the blue white flash, and there she was, sitting on the floor with her well shaped legs in front of her. She stood and went into the bath for her long awaited soak.
The bath had relaxed Cherryl and she was back in her living room, sipping a white wine, going over what had happened earlier that evening. She was wondering if she would have the nerve to do some further experimenting, or if she just should forget about the whole thing. She decided to do some more experiments.She went back to her bed and sat down with her back against a pillow propped up against the head board. She could now see herself in the mirror that formed the door of her closet. "OK, here goes."She closed her eyes and imagined herself one-armed.Flash.She opened her eyes and was staring at herself in the mirror. Her right arm, her dominant one, was missing. Just a rounded shoulder remained. Her heart skipped a beat. This was definitely getting exciting, and she began to feel a tingle between her legs.She closed her eyes again.Flash.The woman in the mirror was completely armless; the same had happened on her left side. Cherryl moved her shoulders. Then, she sat straight and moved to stand up from the bed. She had left her wine glass in the living room and went to retrieve it. After taking two steps she realized that she would be unable to pick the glass up. This feeling of helplessness made her even more excited. Of course, she could have one of her arms reappear, but she considered that cheating. So she continued into the living room, very carefully picked up the still half filled glass between her teeth, and took it to the bed room where she carefully put it on the night stand.An idea struck her. "If I can have my limbs disappear and reappear at will, I can also make them a flexible as I like." With that she sat on the bed and picked up the wine glass by the stem with right foot. She managed to take a sip."This game is going to be extremely interesting", she thought. She decided to spend the remainder of the evening in her armless state, trying to do the things that she normally did by only using her feet.After a couple of hours Cherryl's common sense kicked in again. She had to get to sleep in order to be fresh and rested for her next shift. She sat back against the pillow again and decided for the coup de grace for that first evening of experimenting with her new found gift.Flash.When she opened her eyes she only saw her armless and legless torso in the mirror. She moved about on the bed, and decided to spend the night in this state. When she finally fell asleep she her the most wonderful dreams.
In the next couple of weeks, Cherryl did some more experiments. Each evening she decided to make one modification to her body, and then spend the rest of the evening and the night in that state. She went about her living quarters one-legged, hopping about. Another evening she created a pair of crutches, the design of which she had dug up from the library computer. She had a legless evening, moving on hands and bottom. She had one-armed evenings, and a couple of totally armless evenings.Cherryl had always been the level headed type, so she also had evenings with only minor alterations to her body. She didn't want to over-eat, so to speak. Missing fingers or toes, or below-knee or below-elbow modifications were sometimes all she went for.Then, one evening, she discovered that she could do more than just limbs. It was when she wondered what it would be like to be unable to see, that she decided to test just that. And it worked. After the by now all too familiar flash, everything went dark. And stayed dark. She had effectively blinded herself. True to the agreement with herself, she spent the rest of the evening blind, but decided not to repeat the experiment. It didn't by far excite her as much as the absence of one or more limbs. The best evenings were those spent legless and one-armed, or armless and one-legged.Cherryl had found a new hobby, and it was at times addictive. It was much, much better than the binding of limbs into immobile position, something that she had done in the past, but found totally inadequate. Still, despite her ability to actually remove a limb was very exciting, it still was not the real thing. And, also, she was lacking someone to share her excitement with. Perhaps someday she would find somebody suitable.
The bath had relaxed Cherryl and she was back in her living room, sipping a white wine, going over what had happened earlier that evening. She was wondering if she would have the nerve to do some further experimenting, or if she just should forget about the whole thing. She decided to do some more experiments.She went back to her bed and sat down with her back against a pillow propped up against the head board. She could now see herself in the mirror that formed the door of her closet. "OK, here goes."She closed her eyes and imagined herself one-armed.Flash.She opened her eyes and was staring at herself in the mirror. Her right arm, her dominant one, was missing. Just a rounded shoulder remained. Her heart skipped a beat. This was definitely getting exciting, and she began to feel a tingle between her legs.She closed her eyes again.Flash.The woman in the mirror was completely armless; the same had happened on her left side. Cherryl moved her shoulders. Then, she sat straight and moved to stand up from the bed. She had left her wine glass in the living room and went to retrieve it. After taking two steps she realized that she would be unable to pick the glass up. This feeling of helplessness made her even more excited. Of course, she could have one of her arms reappear, but she considered that cheating. So she continued into the living room, very carefully picked up the still half filled glass between her teeth, and took it to the bed room where she carefully put it on the night stand.An idea struck her. "If I can have my limbs disappear and reappear at will, I can also make them a flexible as I like." With that she sat on the bed and picked up the wine glass by the stem with right foot. She managed to take a sip."This game is going to be extremely interesting", she thought. She decided to spend the remainder of the evening in her armless state, trying to do the things that she normally did by only using her feet.After a couple of hours Cherryl's common sense kicked in again. She had to get to sleep in order to be fresh and rested for her next shift. She sat back against the pillow again and decided for the coup de grace for that first evening of experimenting with her new found gift.Flash.When she opened her eyes she only saw her armless and legless torso in the mirror. She moved about on the bed, and decided to spend the night in this state. When she finally fell asleep she her the most wonderful dreams.
In the next couple of weeks, Cherryl did some more experiments. Each evening she decided to make one modification to her body, and then spend the rest of the evening and the night in that state. She went about her living quarters one-legged, hopping about. Another evening she created a pair of crutches, the design of which she had dug up from the library computer. She had a legless evening, moving on hands and bottom. She had one-armed evenings, and a couple of totally armless evenings.Cherryl had always been the level headed type, so she also had evenings with only minor alterations to her body. She didn't want to over-eat, so to speak. Missing fingers or toes, or below-knee or below-elbow modifications were sometimes all she went for.Then, one evening, she discovered that she could do more than just limbs. It was when she wondered what it would be like to be unable to see, that she decided to test just that. And it worked. After the by now all too familiar flash, everything went dark. And stayed dark. She had effectively blinded herself. True to the agreement with herself, she spent the rest of the evening blind, but decided not to repeat the experiment. It didn't by far excite her as much as the absence of one or more limbs. The best evenings were those spent legless and one-armed, or armless and one-legged.Cherryl had found a new hobby, and it was at times addictive. It was much, much better than the binding of limbs into immobile position, something that she had done in the past, but found totally inadequate. Still, despite her ability to actually remove a limb was very exciting, it still was not the real thing. And, also, she was lacking someone to share her excitement with. Perhaps someday she would find somebody suitable.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Graham Phoenix Vulnerability And Shame For Men This Is Not About Weakness
Inside is the key passage:
But you see persons books you just signed for my husband and my three daughters? They'd wish me die on top of my whitish hurdler than watch me fall down. Taking into account we pass by out and be defenseless we get the shit gear out of us. This is unfortunately true for a lot of women and men. At hand is an understood double hot water for copious men later their female associates tell them to be in addition hurting and open - later they do, the woman steadily loses pin in them or begins to resent their starkness as not masculine.
As a great deal as men need to work on their own ability to be defenseless, to assume very much, women need to search their subliminal biases and yet to come about femininity and begin to understand that copious women still see middle and starkness in men as worsening.
Exposure AND Sin FOR MEN - THIS IS NOT Almost Deficiency by Graham Phoenix (read about Graham Phoenix nearly)
Men see starkness as worsening, men see mark as worsening. They hide starkness and mark under a eclipse of emotional reign, work, status and violence. How can they pass off the eclipse and start work in the power of vulnerability?
Bren'e Beige is a research educationalist at the University circles of Houston, Graduate Intellectual of Convivial Undertaking. She has exhausted the afar decade studying starkness, audaciousness, worthiness, and mark.
Her 2010 TEDx Houston talk on the power of starkness is one of the furthermost watched consultation on TED.com with over 7 million views. She gave the irrefutable talk, Listening to Sin, at the 2012 TED Conference in Desire Beach.
These consultation bother rebounded round about the world and singular the point of view in thinking about starkness, mark and accuse. She has made people realise that this is an strip we are all compound in.
Her 2012 TED talk went profound into this issue. In this article I will use quotations from her talk to look at how this issue affects men, in meticulous.
She used a luxurious quote from Theodore Roosevelt that is unusually most important to men. It's about 'the stand everywhere men string their battles, newspaper, and everywhere men mess their idea of femininity.
"It is not the critic who counts. It is not the man who sits and points out how the executor of goings-on could bother washed up trappings better and how he chute and stumbles. The recollection goes to the man in the stand whose come to light is marred with dust and blood and exertion. But later he's in the stand, at best he wins, and at extreme he loses, but later he fails, later he loses, he does so madden very much." (Theodore Roosevelt)
The idea of madden very much is tantalizing to copious men, but the question is how to apprehend it without appearing hazy. The problem is later men make something stand out dud with worsening, or they think that others, persons they love and respect, make something stand out dud with worsening.Graham also included one unconventional quote from Beige that I think is bonus most important.
"For men, mark is not a group of contra, lacking consistency yet to come. Sin is one, "Do not be apparent as what - weak?" [...] A man looked at me one day time was a book signing and understood, "... you say to pass by out, tell our story, be defenseless. But you see persons books you just signed for my husband and my three daughters? They'd wish me die on top of my whitish hurdler than watch me fall down. Taking into account we pass by out and be defenseless we get the shit gear out of us. And don't tell me it's from the guys and the coaches and the dads, since the women in my life are harder on me than anyone overly. You show me a woman who can it seems that sit with a man in real starkness and fear, I'll show you a woman who's washed up breathtaking work. You show me a man who can sit with a woman who's just had it, she can't do it all anymore, and his first receiving is not, "I unloaded the dishwasher," but he in truth listens - since that's all we need - I'll show you a guy who's washed up a lot of work."Go read the wet behind the ears appointment.













