i AM scoundrel

Not mine.

One of the things that has been the most regretful in my life is that I never had kids.  At 44 I think I’m past the youthful Dad part but it’s always been a nagging ghost, milling about, rattling chains behind me.

I’ve been told I could adopt and while that’s true I think I’m past my prime.  I think that I’m mostly too old because I’ve been too selfish for so long that  being a parent would delve into my drinking time, and nobody keeps Scoundrel away from his “medicine”.

But at this time of the year, especially at Christmas (see holiday season) when you see the nieces and nephews playing and getting excited about the season.  Santa coming and all the packages with their names on them; and just the sheer elation is enough to make me pine for the loss of the child that never was.

It’s been said that I’d be a good Dad.  I’m not sure if that’s true but I have a feeling that I wouldn’t be so bad.  It’s not like I would lock my kids in a closet and tell them they were a mistake but I’m not sure, though, if that’s the barometer of being a good parent.

Maybe that’s where my love for my dogs comes into play.

Rufey Doof, Doofus, Monster - all of the above

When I lost Rufus, putting him down was the hardest thing I ever had to do – it was the right thing – but it was also the most difficult. People said I should get another one.  I couldn’t at that point.  Also, I couldn’t afford the energy and the time.

Working full time and going back to school, I thought it would be cruel to get a pet that needs attention. So the alternative was get a cat. Ummmm, no.  I’m not a cat person.  There’s a saying, “You own a dog, a cat owns you.”  I needed something that needed me.  I’m far too co-dependent for a cat.

So enter; Numa.  It’s been two and a half years since they stuck the needle in Rufus’ ankle.  I was there.  I saw it go in.  I held his head and knew he was dead when I felt the weight of his skull in my hand.  I’m telling you, there was more liquid coming out of me than an ’87 Chevy.  Every orifice that could leak did.

Cuddling with the Numes

My nose was a faucet, my eyes a sprinkler.

So these “pets” have become my children.  And I know it must seem creepy to those who don’t understand.  Who have kids and maybe the family pet but for those of us who don’t have kids, we look to our pets to greet us when we come home.  Hell, to even give us a reason to come home.

But they’re not our kids.  They never will be.  They will be a great, tremendous, substitute and you never have to worry about them borrowing the car but you, also won’t see them grow up, go to University, get married and become a Grandpa.

I see my beautiful Nieces and Nephews and I see the love dripping from their parents and it’s the same love I have for my dog.  And she’s a dog. Really, just a dog.

But that’s the thing.  Love doesn’t know something like species.

Posted in Family, Numa, Relationships, Rufus, T.F.O. (Thoughts | No Comments »

For most in the Western world, Christmas is a time when family gathers, drink eggnog , gobbles up dead animals, and devours presents neatly wrapped.

For others who are Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, or even Atheist, this can be a lonely time where they are reminded that they don’t belong or they somehow don’t “fit” into the grand scheme of things.

I hear, constantly, that the Christians are being persecuted because they have to have a “holiday tree” or they can’t even say the word Christmas.  How they rage that, we, as the majority are being forced into softening the blow of Christmas so that we can be “tolerant” of those who don’t.

So put yourself into the shoes of others.

At this time of year they are given two days off (in Canada at least – it’s called Boxing day) and they have to constantly be inundated with bad Christmas music (see any holiday tunes by Christina Aguilera).

This drone that permeates their ears with a selfish, “Have a Merry Christmas” with no consideration that they may celebrate Hanukkah or Eid or the Winter Solstice, or even the very beautiful celebration of Diwali (The Hindu festival of Lights).  Malls that have trees lit up and Christmas crafts in schools must take it’s toll and remind them they’re not really Canadian (or American).

I bet they’re thinking, “There’s not enough Lions to go around.”

Today I said Merry Christmas to someone and then had to apologise because I assumed he would celebrate it.  He was very gracious and said that he didn’t celebrate it but he appreciated my apology because he doesn’t often get that.

What went through my mind was how arrogant I was to assume that he had the same history, same faith, and same holiday schedule as I.

I think we need to remember that not everyone likes and or wants Christmas in their lives.  That it keeps them out of the circle, that they are excluded from the mass of the people.

Yes, yes, and yes, we are in a predominately Christian society and that this continent was founded on those principles but those who don’t celebrate the vaunted Christmas season are still valued members and, hell, they’re the ones who will drive the cabs (and are probably Doctor’s in thier former country)because we drink too much and keep the convenience stores open so we can buy our smokes.

I would ask this, that before you get pissed that you hear you have to say “Happy Holidays” at your kids school, or subdue your urge to yell Merry Christmas, think of those that are forced to be a part of it, even though they don’t celebrate it.

Much love and affection at this time of year and to whatever you celebrate remember this:  Christmas isn’t necessarily a time for Christians to honour Jesus Christ but a time to enjoy family and friends.  The older we get, it’s not about presents or a tree but of being together and a reminder that whatever circle we have created for ourselves; we are loved.

God bless us, everyone.

Posted in American, Canadian, Family, Friends, T.F.O. (Thoughts | 4 Comments »

Ahhhh, mudder's milk to me

Why is it that all the things that I love are so bad for me?  When did I become a slave to my to my baser instincts and let go the need for a healthy, clean, lifestyle?

 

I am in love with all the things that raise my blood pressure, sodium filled and sugar induced.  I clearly know this is killing me and has shortened my life but there is a part of me that just doesn’t care.

Comfort food

If it’s better to live a life of quantity vs. quality;  I’m going for quality.

There is the bumper sticker of “live fast and leave a beautiful corpse”, well I’m pretty much long in the tooth for that as my “pretty” days are well behind me.  I’m more in the slightly, oddly, somewhat perfunctory attractive times.  I can live with that.

I knew I’d never be James Dean.  Hell I never had the bone structure, the eyebrows or even the hair (well, before the  age of 18 my hair was thick and gorgeous).  If it wasn’t for my goatee, I’d look like a ping-pong paddle with a nose.

When I could have been James Dean - well a chubby James Dean

But I see the old men shuffling on the street and I sure as hell know I don’t want to end up being that man.  And with the way the Canada Pension is going, if I live past 65, I’m basically fucked.

About this time last year, I was working out three times a week.  I’d dropped 20 pounds and I felt GREAT.  I was even beginning to get a bit of a six pack (YEAH!  I KNOW!  ME!) and to quote Marge Simpson “You don’t sweat when you eat anymore.”

That was me!  But then the lethargy takes over and I’m right back to being where I was in my last blog.  Sitting.  Doing nothing.

"Scarecrow? I'll miss you most of all."

But I do, I do, I do;  I love smoking (miss it-mostly), love drinking,  fatty foods, salt, salt and more salt, McDonald’s – and please don’t say…”everything in moderation” because for those who know me….Moderation is NOT really in my vocabulary.  I mean, I’m sure the only reason I’m not a cocaine addicted pot head is the fact that I’m poor.

See, I can spell, “moderation” but it’s kinda like the word “Vagina”.  I’m so gay I can’t even say it.  It comes out as “Vah, vah”.

You know those people whose only addiction is like, I don’t know, walking on the tread-mill or getting enough fibre in their diet?  WHY CAN’T I BE THEM?

Why can’t my vices take me to better places.  “Use my credit card?  Why, Sir, never.  I never use my credit card when I know I can’t pay it off right away.”  WHY CAN’T THAT BE ME?

Of course, like every addict who’s not in control of his life, I blame my Mother.  It’s just easier that way.  Hell, she smoked, she drank, she ate bad food.  Yup, it’s my Mother’s fault and I’m not taking any of the responsibility at all.

You know what REALLY kills me?  I mean REALLY kills me?  (this is where you say, “What, Scoundrel? What really kills you?).  When I was a teen, I was a rabid non-smoker.  Even into my mid 20′s, I didn’t smoke.  I mean, I tried it when I was a kid but we never inhaled.  There was me and Kimmie, under the bridge by the sewer holes smoking away.  Then this one time, I accidentally inhaled and I thought I was going to die.  Michelle Winters laughed and Kimmie screamed, “Stop laughing, he’s dying!”

Then, when I was 27 I had to do a play and they had to actually TEACH me how to look like I’d been smoking for years.  It took two weeks.  Rat-bastard thing is, it was for a Community production so it’s not like I could sue any of them.

Anyway, I need to stop typing now.  My drinking arm’s going numb.

Posted in Consumption, Foodie, Gay, Internet, T.F.O. (Thoughts | 2 Comments »

Yeah that pretty much sums up my life.

I don’t know what the joy and satisfaction I get from not doing “stuff” and then at the last minute yell at myself.

There must be some euphoria in waiting until the last possible minute and screaming at myself, “What the hell can’t I get this shit done earlier?”

NOT MY APARTMENT

Cleaning is first and foremost on the list followed by a close second laundry.  Now there have been people who’ve been messaging me saying things like, “love your blog but you could add more pictures.”  Honeychile, I is NOT going to be showing you a photo of the after-the-tornado-post-apocalyptic state of my apartment.  I don’t want people to see how I live.

Besides, I have a perfectly good reason WHY I procrastinate on cleaning.  I clean at work.  So there.  (Rationale #1 – out of the way)

Me pretending to study but thinking about anything but

Third is school work.  Yes that’s right, I’m a 44 year old student now (have been for the last two years) and I must tell you, doing homework SUCKS.  I just can’t get into it.  It’s high school all over again, only the students that are around me are young enough to be my children.

And let me say this without trying to sound all pedifillic-sicko-twisted -  Some of those guys are freakin’ HOT!

It’s not that I don’t want to have a clean apartment, dog-hair vacuumed on a regular basis, dishes consistently done and put away, freshly washed laundry that still is in the basket; I could go on and on with this by the way but I think you get the point.

I have papers strewn about on my kitchen counter which is fine because I don’t really cook.  I mean, I do but it’s usually open package-insert into microwave.

There are three hindrances to my getting things done.  1 is my boyfriend, two is my dog, and three is I’m just damned lazy.

Whether it be doing assignments the night before or shopping for Christmas at the last minute (SHIT!! CHRISTMAS!!!).  So to all you procrastinators, I hear you, I feel your pain.    Now get off your asses and read this blog!

Posted in Internet, Menz, Numa, Relationships, School, T.F.O. (Thoughts, Work | 8 Comments »

Well now that I’ve added a capcha to my blog, my coming home to 61 emails has disappeared.  Gone and kapput!

So I guess even the comments that sounded like they were genuine (other than the people that I do know) were just spammers.   Those spammers sure know how to make a new blogger feel welcome.

Sigh.

So I guess it’s back to the art of vacuum writing.  Oh well, it’s pretty much been that way and will continue.

Posted in Internet, T.F.O. (Thoughts | No Comments »

So, here we are again.

Like I said, loving the writing thing – I find it fairly cathartic to just get my thoughts out and let them fly over the Internet.  And having people read them because, to be honest, while the writing is helpful thinking that my thoughts are falling on deaf ears isn’t exactly why I signed up for this behemoth.  Also, there’s no point if I’m writing in a vacuum.

The one huge downfall is SPAM.  Yes, that horrible nuisance that fills up your email with useless self promotion (of course THIS is useless self promotion) and links you to, mostly, a product that you don’t want and/or need.

What really bothers me though is that they’re not simple.  “Hi, saw your website and think you could use this can of DW-40″.  No, they write comments that could be construed as actual comments from real people.

Sprinkle apk writes, “An stimulating word is designer interpret. I believe that you should correspond statesman on this substance, it strength not be a preconception somebody but mostly grouping are not enough to talk on much topics. To the succeeding. Cheers like your i AM scoundrel  » Blog Archive   » Reboot.”  Huh?  What?

I mean if you’re going to try sell me something – for God’s sake learn better English.

“I found this information to be really helpful.”  writes one on “Reboot“, my first blog in years.  Ummmm, yeah, there was actually no real information given, it was a piece on just getting back onto the world of blogging.

It’s fully understandable that the web is great place to promote your product (or in this case – my life) and I’m all for it but dammit, sometimes I don’t know if it’s just companies with some poor schmo, typing up comments so that their link is posted on your site.

Frustrating?  Hell, yeah.

I’ll be looking at a comment and wondering if it’s a real person or a bot.

For the ones who’ve actually read and posted and aren’t looking to plug vibrators or towel dryers (yes, towel dryers) and comment, thank you.   Overall the response has been incredibly positive.  Though Honey Believer on “It Don’t Matter If You’re Black or White“  wrote, “Clueless.”  OK, I can deal with that.  And some have commented that while they find some of what I write interesting there are huge leaps in logic.  Again, I’ll buy that.

But 徵信 (yes that’s right – I have no idea either. Any people out there that know what this says, please let me know) writes, “His “affair”is a pain in your heart foreverAffair eventsAlthough the pieces of your heart,Although you love him, he does not value you,Although you pay so much, but did not return,”.

Now it’s certainly not fair to judge someone who can’t write English if it’s not their first language.  But when I look at the email it’s for discovery007.com.tw.  Don’t go there please, I don’t want to encourage it.

So that’s my dilemma.  Is this person actually struggling with English but wanted to post a comment or is it someone from a company trying to promote a product?

My mail box (the real one on the outside of my house, remember those?) has a sign, “No junk mail.”  I even say PLEASE.  And for the most part I don’t get them but the amount that is coming in my web mail is overwhelming me.

Of course, now having posted this I’m sure to get an influx of spam telling me how to get rid of spam.

So if you have commented and it’s not on here, or there’s been no response it’s because I thought it was probably junk mail.

If this has happened, don’t think me rude, I just thought you were a bot.

Tags: Internet
Posted in Consumption, Internet, T.F.O. (Thoughts | 18 Comments »

Most of my posts are about me trying to figure things out.  I think that’s what this is designed for; for me to pontificate on my questions and, hopefully, get a response that clarifies current events.

By current I mean in my life time.

We often measure events in our own puberty/timeline but when you look at the history of the planet, changes happen over centuries and we’re just like hungry teens wailing at a microwave, begging for our “hot pockets” to be done quicker.

So I’m going back to an old favourite.  The Gays.

Yup, that’s right:  The Gays.

I usually have to be inspired by some outlying force to get me to write.  Something that intrigues me or makes me question the nature of human reactions.

And…This blog’s muse winner is?   (DOT DOT DOT)

How can he sit so nicely with that broom handle shoved so far up his ass?

Rick Perry.  At first I was thinking he was Steve Perry, lead singer for Journey and, eventual, solo artist; thus the title of this piece, “Oh Sherry”.

He has this ad for his current political foot race for Republican leader that promotes his Christian philosophy; which I don’t have a problem with Christians but this one makes me wish for a Roman coliseum and truck load of Lions.

In this self gloating, bigoted, piece, he actually states that, “I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a Christian, but you don’t need to be in the pew every Sunday to know there’s something wrong in this country when gays can serve, openly in the military but our kids can’t openly celebrate Christmas.”  Then blah, blah, blah Obama’s war on religion – blah, blah, blah liberal media:  He goes on, ad nauseam (and it’s only 0:31 seconds) and I’ve linked the actual video, here.

It doesn’t shock me that there are those who are of faith that deem homosexuality as a sin, as the last crusade to maintaining their hold on Western culture.  I get it.  We are a poisoned people who constantly remind them that the West is falling into disarray.  We are the neon lights promoting “barely legal teens”, strip clubs and “She did WHAT with a horse?” websites.  Littering their junk emails and  up and down their main streets.

I’m OK with that.

But what does bother me is when you actually look at the teachings of Jesus Christ, he talks of love, forgiveness and acceptance.  Now am I going to sit here typing that Jesus WAS actually the son of God?  No.  That’s not what I’m about.  I question everything.  Is there a heaven?  I don’t know.  For all I know the Mormons could be right and, other than the 3% of the world’s population, we’re all headed for a first class ticket to damnation.

I offer up this.

Those who believe in Jesus and Catholicism, Christianity and the bread crumbs of spattering of other deviations of religion are still missing the point.

God is love.

I’m not even saying that I believe in God.  I don’t, I do, I don’t, I…well, maybe.  I mean MAYBE He/She/It exists but I’m an eternal skeptic.  Hell, every time I step on an ant I think I’ve pissed off Buddha and I’ll come back as a cockroach.  Just the best looking cockroach with a six pack and a great big….well…I won’t type that word.

I’ve been faced with the nature of God many times.  I spent four years as a cross-wielding-bible-thumping-holier-than-thou reformist who mea culpa’d into being straight.  I’ve even argued, at my front door, with Jehovah Witnesses about the inconsistencies of the Bible.

I, profoundly, defend anyone’s right to believe what they believe but I’m not at the point where I’m going to buy tickets and get on the ride.

This is why it bugs me so much.  If Christianity is all about love then why are the Gays getting the stocks when it comes to human rights?

Not that there aren’t other groups that are safe.  Women, cultural minorities, the disabled are all targets for attack.  We perceive them as different and therefore undesirable and, possibly, a threat.

A comment in one of my blogs stated that I jump in logic so I’m doing my best here to connect the dots – and if this is longer than usual, forgive me.  I’m trying to go from A to B to C and so forth, whereas I usually go from A to F to X.

Gay marriage is an inevitable reality.  Why?  Well because as Gay people we’re just not going to take anymore.  We’re going to stand up and defend and acknowledge that we have a place in society and we’ll bring the rest, kicking and screaming if we have to.

One of our biggest flaws is that we are both sexes, all races,  all ages, economic brackets.  We are Lawyers, Doctors, Sanitation workers and bus drivers.  We don’t conform to one specific group but rather, we are all of them. And because of that, we can hide.  It’s not like a Black man or a Woman can easily hide their differences, we can morph into whatever society wants us to be.

The problem is, is that it means we are expendable and we can change if, sigh, we only met the right Woman or Man.

One of the proclamations is that Gay marriage will undermine the sanctity of Heterosexual marriage.  Really?  This from a country (I’m looking at YOU, America) that has drive-thru chapels  (see Las Vegas), Brittany Spears and Kim Kardashian who’s marriages lasted less time than I’ve had to do my laundry, and a divorce rate that would make a  revolving door spin off its rotating floor.

What REALLY bothers me about this Rick Perry ad (and at the end when he says, “I’m Rick Perry,” I was hoping beyond hope that he’d end it with, ”and I’m a douche bag.”) is that religion is a choice.  Being gay is not.  You can choose to be Christian, Catholic, Muslim and the plethora of other philosophies that are derivatives of the same, fictional, stories.  But having feelings isn’t.

I could be in a heterosexual union but I also know I’d be cruising the parks, trolling the public washrooms and sneaking around on my wife and, basically, living a life of fear and shame.

That’s not why I was put here on this Earth.

See, I don’t need saving.  I need a dose of reality.

Posted in Uncategorized | 15 Comments »

What do you write when you have nothing to write about?

When there is nothing to say?

Some would argue,  “Well then shut up!”  But me, being me, I can’t.

I came home to seven emails that commanded me to moderate comments.  Seven:  That might be a record in my insignificant voice as a blogger.  Now, granted, two of them were SPAM but still.  Made my heart skip an extra beat faster.

At my age, that might not be a good thing.

I lost someone very important to me today.  My former Mother-In-Law.  Some may argue the term “former” but let me tell you she was a remarkable Woman with a heart that encompassed everyone.  It didn’t matter your race, your age, your gender, or even your sexual preference.

She was kind.

A good Woman, a good soul.

When I lost my own Mother I felt somewhat orphaned.  Losing her though was almost like losing the last bastion of my parentage.  Flo; that was her name was a good Mother, Aunt, Grandmother, and friend.

Goodbye my sweet Flo.  If ever there a “Mudder” out there, it was you.’

May you and Mary finally meet, lay back, drag on your cigarette and laugh that you never met until now.

Posted in Uncategorized | No Comments »

But it does:  Doesn’t it?

As a Canadian I’ve often pondered the nature of the issue of race; from the broadcasts that I see on American news.  It seems to be such an issue.  I’m sure, for some, it is here as well but I’m pretty oblivious to that.

Brown, tanned, midnight,  pale, it’s all the same to me.  But get a gaggle of them all together and I’m checking my escape routes.

I will admit, to my most closest of friends, that when I see a group of teenagers, I get nervous.  Whether it be Black (and as a Canadian I don’t say African-American), Asian, Middle Eastern, White:  It don’t matter – I get nervous.

This current writing stems from a video I saw today of Michelle Bachman (she’s running for the Republican nomination) and a Lesbian teenager who asked her the question of what she would do for the LGBT community. Her reply was that all; and she seemed to emphasize ALL – Americans are equal.

The teen then asked, “Why can’t a man and a man marry.”

Her response? Oh it was priceless. That gays could marry but only if they married the opposite sex.

Rosa Parks being fingerprinted

My thought? “Ummmm, wouldn’t that make them straight?”

It makes me think that the struggle for gay rights isn’t as far removed from the march in Selma.  From Rosa Parks, refusing to give up her seat on the bus or of Ghandi, in his fabulous bed linens.

Should we, as homosexuals (both the male and the female) begin to think of ourselves as a race?  Would that then change the nature of our struggle?  Surely then the American government couldn’t withhold marriage from gays and lesbians.

I remember, all those years ago, looking a definition of “race” in the dictionary.  One of the many revelations was that it was, “A group of individuals with similar attributes.”  I’m sure they weren’t including homosexuality in that definition but it stuck with me.  They could have meant a race of little people, albino’s or hunchbacks.  Or they could have meant little albino hunchbacks – either way, it intrigued me.

Because, what really defines race?  Is it just skin colour or gender?  Is it looking at a culture and acknowledging stereotypes or, even, touchstones that embed itself into our collective psyche?

If that’s the case, does Eminem seem more “black” than Bill Cosby?  I mean if we’re going to look at stereotypes, well, do I need to point out the obvious?  According to what has been perceived by generalizations – Cosby played a successful Doctor while Eminem grabs the “street kid” cred.

It could be that, IF, we define ourselves by our culture, then there really is no such thing as race, as is defined by dictionaries or encyclopedias but is defined by what we are born into – or even, choose to be.

I’ve always felt that, yes (and I might make some enemies here) that being gay IS a choice.  Not that I choose to BE gay but, rather, that I choose to accept my defined role and embrace it.

If there is, indeed a God, then God doesn’t make mistakes – and I am no accident (despite what my siblings might say – I’m the youngest of seven).

So do I get angry when someone like Eddie Murphy prances about a stage, lisping with every “S” in a sentence?  No, of course not.  It’s play, it’s funny.

It’s because I can laugh at myself.  For all my foibles and even for mocking my “race”.

I just don’t take it that seriously.

Posted in Uncategorized | 13 Comments »

So, yesterday, I was at my Doctor’s.  A great fellow, love him to death.  I found him when I went for my first HIV test, what?  19 years ago?

Gosh, is it that long?  Me sitting, shaking that it was going to be a positive outcome and he, a new doctor to the city.   I, not realizing that a family doctor would become a rare commodity in this city, said, “Sure,” when he asked if I was looking for a personal physician.

I’m so glad I did.

So that addendum aside, what really got me is when I joked about Kim Kardashian, the epically short marriage and, frankly, her ass.  He replied with a witty retort and then stated, “I’m disgusted that I even know about this.

I had actually thought about that.  It occurred to me, in those late nights when you have nothing but dried pasta in the cupboard and infomercials on the t.v.,  that to have such knowledge of someone and something so utterly banal and useless takes up actual grey matter in my brain.

Why do I need to know this stuff?  I’m far past the age where the “cool kids” have an even remote hold on my sense of self security;  so why do I care?

Yet, when the little postings pop up on msn.ca, I click.  More, in my feeble brain, to satiate some kind of need to know, I read with a ferver.  I will have you know that I admonish myself and click on a link about science or religion right after to get the stench of what I’ve just perused out of my brain.

It’s kind of like a hot shower after bad sex, I suppose.

I have often stated, and will state here for the record, that these reality shows – the ones about beautiful, young, rich, I got famous for making a porn tape, have come to mean that the state of not only original entertainment but of common decency, have flown out the window and seem to be lost forever.

Why are we enthralled about young women who’s only claim to fame is that they’re rich offsprings who’ve never really known a hard day’s work.

And I must beg and ask, am I the only one who’s disappointed that Avril Lavigne is now dating Cody or Jody Brenner?  I’m actually glad I’m not sure of his name, that, AT LEAST, gives me some comfort.

I do know that his father, former great track, Bruce Jenner, star now looks like he’s made mostly of plastic.  Honestly I’d be scared to hold a match near him in the fear that he’d become one of Madame Tussaud’s fomer pieces of art.  I can picture him now screaming, “Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! melting! Oh, what a world! What a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness?”

So this infatuation with people who’ve never really accomplished anything are now celebs, taking up time from Meryl Streep on the Entertainment circuit.  I don’t know if I’ve completely resolved myself to that.

I need more literature in my life and less of this minutia.

Posted in Uncategorized | 20 Comments »