hey guys… I had to change hosts… the last one was alil’ bit of an idiot. So, consequently, I lost every bit of writting I had here.
”…. I’m sorry..“- they said, ” wish there was something else we could do to make you keep your account with us...“ - they said…, “ bumbling fools….
*********** BREATH IN —– —— —— BREATH OUT —– —– —– ***************
Bear with me….. as soon as I come out of my little tantrum, reassemble the furniture I’ve destroyed and get to the business of bring us back upto date, these next few days are going to be dedicated to recreating what was already there….
April 10th, 2007
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Anyone ever been to a massage therapist? I have… and I’m NEVER GOING BACK THERE AGAIN!!! Man… this was some kind of experience, one for the Allan-will-never-speak-of-this-again vault.
It all started on Tuesday, Jan 18th when I spent the day at work in agony on account of a strained back. Initially, I imagined it to be a problem with my spinal alignment, since I hunch a little bit and its not the first time a chiropractor had worked on me. Anyhow, I thought it best to spend the night sleeping on the floor… but come Wednesday morning, the pain had only gotten worse. I downed a few painkillers and decided to let things work themselves out [evidently, I was too busy to worry about a small thing such as my well-being! – dumb ass!] the day went by, wired on caffeine and painkillers… but come Thursday morning… it was excruciating. I decided that was it… I went onto WebMD and looked up home remedies… they suggested a relaxing massage… and that sounded like something I’d be interested in. I’ve never had a massage before… and if its anything like I saw on HBO’s Curb Your Enthusiasm…by all means… sign me up!
I looked up the nearest massage parlors to my house…one known as The Rising Sun Massage Therapist caught my eye, partly because it was really close, but mostly because it just sounded really inviting considering my aching back. I gave them a call and this really sexy attractive voice came to the other line. Her name was Michelle and she was really nice. With a mild accent, she explained what they do, the prices, set up an appointment and even gave me directions to the place. I was excited and I imagined it to be one of those places where all stereotypes of an oriental massage parlor are fulfilled… you know, with the cute petite girls in traditional clothing [kimonos] and music, and incense and the like.
I got myself ready and set off. First… it was rather difficult to find the place. I’m sure I had the directions down and they were easy to follow… but I just didn’t see the place. I asked a few people and one seemed to know what I was talking about. This should’ve been my clue to abandon operation ‘Massage with Possible Happy ending’ but I insisted. Someone later showed me to a building that looked like an oversized townhouse. When I drew near, I noticed the acronyms RSM on the top of the door, and a “Yes, we are Open’ sign on the inside. I tried to walk in, but the door was locked… [Clue no. 2]
Confused, I rang the bell and a heavy-set woman, with a somewhat irritated demeanor came to the door, she opened it a smidge, just enough to allow one eye and her mouth and with a heavy accent, she barked.. “ WHAT DO YOU WANT!”
“ hello, I’m looking for Rising Sun Massage therapist” I answered..
“WHAT DO YOU WANT!”
“ I’m here to get a ma – ,”
“ HOW OLD ARE YOU?!?” she cut me off…..
“ I’m 24, ma’am…. I had spoken to Mi–,”
“I WANT TO SEE I.D.!” [What the hell! Is this some kind of brothel…? Clue no. 3]
I pulled out my wallet… took out my driver’s license and handed it to her. After afew glances at my I.D and afew more at my face… she opened the door and with a wide smile she said… “Oh, You are Mr. Allan [slaughtered my last name]… you have an appointment… we have already set up for you… please, come in.
I walk in and I realize that the townhouse had been converted into a spa! There was a tiny waiting area, and a hallway with little rooms in which massage tables were set up. There was lovely music playing, and an artificial waterfall in every corner. She ushered me to a small desk where she asked me to sign in. After signing in, she motioned for me to follow her, and I started to realize that she was leading me to one of the little rooms with a massage table. I was confused, because I hadn’t been asked to fill out any medical forms, but now that I look at it, I should be glad I wasn’t asked to fill out a loss-of-life waiver!
Anyhow… it also occurred to me that she might be the one who would do the massage… and I quickly asked… “I spoke to Michelle earlier, is she here?”
“Michelle is reception, not massage therapy… she went to lunch…I do your massage, problem?”
“Well, when I spoke to her, I thou-,”
“ No problem, I can do massage, I’m therapist licensed… no problem,…. Maybe if you like, you can get one from him…”
and she pointed to a man who could’ve easily been a sumo wrestler… with a bald head and a pony-tail, half-dozing after having inhaled a bagful of cashew nuts. [Clue no.4]
“No, no… Its okay… you can do the massage… no problem” and I looked away, hoping I didn’t make eye contact with him.
When we got to the room, she looked at me… smiled and barked “TAKE OF YOUR CLOTHES!”
“ er.. okay…” I mean… you have to take off your shirt in order to receive a back massage… So.. I took off my shirt, and my vest….
“I’m ready…shall I la -”
“TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!”
“Oh, I only need you to do my back.. you don’t have to - ”
“ NO! NO! I DO YOUR BACK TOO, I DO EVERYTHING! TAKE OFF PANTS NOW!” [Clue no. 5]
Holy crap! She’s going to beat me to a pulp if I refuse to comply… so I quickly undressed, but kept my boxer-briefs on… dammit if I have to be naked in front of this woman… she can take away my dignity, but she shall not see the twig n’ berries!
She sized me up for alittle bit… and I could’ve sworn she licked her lips… and she motioned me to get on the table.
Feeling like a piece of ham, I hopped onto the table and lay on my belly. She covered my nether regions with a towel and opened up legs… after which she hoisted herself onto the table in-between my legs. At this point… I was thinking to myself… Oh dear God, let this not be the hour in which I’m forced to lay with an ugly older woman! With her fists on either side of my back, positioned on my shoulder-blades… she asked me to take a deep breath.
“Ready? … okay.. Breath in……out…” and she put all her weight on my back…
CRACK!-CRACK!-CRACK!-CRACK!
That hurt like hell!
It was an hour of excruciating pain.. but by the end of it, I felt as light as a feather. The pain in my back slowly dissipated over the next couple of days, and I was back to my old self again…. so, would I ever go back? Hell no!
April 9th, 2007
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A distant thought, ‘was that black pepper in the chicken-alfredo? Coz, well, I have a problem with peppers… I’m allergic to peppers,”
“So that’s what happened!! Would you imagine? She is such a b**ch!!”, she exclaimed!
Snap! Back to reality, I smiled and nodded… a quick glance at my watch revealed that it was twenty minutes after we had left the restaurant, and for at least twenty minutes I hadn’t heard a word she said!! Oh this night was quickly being slang to crap! I’m not sure I should trust my boy’s judgment next time he sets me up on a blind date. Wait, since when did I start going out on blind dates? How do I get myself into these things!
Wait, did someone call my name? Oh sh*t! I keep getting lost in my thoughts!
“ hhmm?, oh yeah… she’s …er…. She’s something…”
I had absolutely no idea what was going on….. but can u blame me? This girl… she kept talking and talking and talking all night… from the moment we met, the drive to the olive garden, the wait for a table at the reception, while the waiter seated us, while we were looking at the menu, while we ate, while I settled the check, while we walked to the car, while we sat there warming the car, … she just kept going. I think the conversation [edit] monologue, went from likes and dislikes to clothing, linen and she lost me somewhere between the different types of cheeses and the different types of curling irons that fit neatly into her likes and dislikes…. And now… I am between a rock and a hard place….not only haven’t I the slightest clue as to who I’m required to slander in her honor but I’ve also forgotten where she lives and I’m supposed to be dropping her off!
So I decide to pay attention…. A conscious decision to apply selective listening… is inevitable, while I comb my brain for the directions I had pulled off the internet initially when I picked her up. Strategic questions designed to pry this valuable information from her without her knowing, especially because I was actually supposed to be heading there, were bearing no fruit. I needed to buy some time; also, I wasn’t so sure she was like this all the time… I think it was only because she was nervous. So I asked… “Hey… you want to go to Georgetown? The harbor is really nice….”
“Oh my God, its so romantic… yes!” she exclaimed
Oh yeah… she likes me… let’s see where this goes…
Through out the entire time at the harbor, she was silent, which curiously put me on edge…I wasn’t sure if it was something I had done or said… but I was keen to find out where she lives… but somehow, it was as if she was intentionally delivering a subliminal message… while dodging every attempt I made at talking about her neighborhood.
She smiled and asked… “did you even hear a word I said all night?” I guess that was it for me. I had managed to mess up another one.
She later confessed to being so nervous that she ended up talking all night… like I had thought, but thank God she was attractive… she could get away with it.
After scribbling her phone number on my palm, she told me how and where to go ….. the rest is static.
April 8th, 2007
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Lately, I’ve been having second thoughts about what I want out of my life. These doubts have risen and further been compounded by the fact that it has been increasingly difficult to appreciate the person that I am. Consequently, I have been at loggerheads with the notion of continuing in my current trade. This uncertainty has clouded many a judgment I have had to make, and also made me extremely irritable while at work. My social life has suffered as a result of sleepless nights tossing and turning with thoughts of my future churning inside my head. I must also say that it may not be entirely my fault. I cannot help but feel that some of the people I work with have had some part to play in this as well. As it turns out, I am the youngest of the management crew. Respect is a luxury harder to obtain in my position than the prospect of a diamond mining operation. The constant struggle for this and other forms of recognition has left me weary and disillusioned. I need some to do soul searching…and the vacation that ensues will provide the best opportunity to do that
April 8th, 2007
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Hey, when’s the last time you were in a fight? Not a verbal altercation, a fist fight….tossing and tumbling, or exchanging blow after devastating blow to the face and body…when was the last time you were in one? Did you win, or did you get the crap beaten out of you? I was in one….not too long ago…..here’s how it went.
At a gas station, filling up…temperatures below freezing and my face is all numb….when this car pulled into the station at a really high rate of speed. The driver zoomed past me barely allowing 12inches between his moving vehicle and my legs…I almost peed my pants! The vehicle pulls in right in front of me and out comes the driver laughing. He was fixing to start fueling his car when, after making sure the sound that came from my throat was going to be remotely normal, I called out to him…, “hey man! You almost hit me!” He looked at me, and flipping the bird at me, he yelled out “ f&*k you!…what the hell you going to do about it?, and went on to throw a few more insults at me. I was infuriated. It was he who was driving recklessly, it was I who almost lost my legs, and as an afterthought it was I who almost spontaneously contracted irritable bowel syndrome as a result….who the hell did he think he was? So I yelled back something to the tune of idiots like him are really hard to come by, but I was regrettably surprised.
Obviously, this did not sit well with this macho man…and he walked up to me. I hadn’t realized how big he was till he actually got close to me. He was probably 6’ 1” mildly stocky…I’d say about 190lbs and he had really bad breath. With him close and sure enough, loud as hell, he continued to curse at me. I cannot remember what he said, but I didn’t say anything to him because I just didn’t know what to say, so when the pump clicked its sensor and beeped to signal my tank was full, I made up my mind to leave. I replaced the pump handle secured my tank and turned, walking towards the drivers side of my car.
At this point, I’m guessing he had been yelling and not quite succeeding in provoking any sort of physical contact or intimidation, so he reached out and grabbed my right shoulder. Big mistake…
Something snapped inside me, I turned and popped him square on his jaw with my left hand and he went down like a ton of bricks. As I stood over him for a moment waiting….trying to anticipate his next move, I heard the sound of a car door slam behind me. I knew it was his friend and I thought he was coming to his [the driver’s] aid. I was on the war path, he started it and I was going to finish it. So I turned and started to walk towards his friend who was coming towards me….all I could think about was how I was going to incapacitate him in the quickest way. I saw the look in his eyes turn from malice to fear and he started to walk away from me….he ran to the gas station attendant’s booth and motioned him to come towards me….I stood over the knocked out driver while the attendant made his way towards us, and immediately started to yell at me. He threatened to call the cops and asked me to leave immediately….I tried to explain to him what happened, but it was clear he was not going to hear it. So I got into my car and left.
When I was calm…I began to recap the incident. I remembered him [the driver] yelling, I remembered him touching me, and I remembered the intense feeling when I knocked his ass to the ground. I remembered the rage that consumed me and the exhilaration that came over me after losing control of it. I felt like I could do anything, like I didn’t have anything to lose and that I was invincible. I liked it….and that scared me. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not violent. As a matter of fact, as introverted as I am and therefore as hard as it is for me to make friends, I get along with 90% of the people I meet. I’m truly not a violent person. So for me to like the feeling of losing control and rage and violence, was rather unnerving. I was on the war path, and like a crazed bull I sought to eliminate any enemies in my path…even the other guy who hadn’t done anything to me, I wanted to flatten….I felt ashamed.
I lost the fight the moment I chose to strike the driver.
April 4th, 2007
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“Ever felt like you’ve been cursed, Coach? Ever felt like no matter what you do, even when we’re winning, that you’re still going to lose?” lines from a scene in ‘Friday Night Lights’ spoken by Mike Winchell, QB-Odessa Permian. Mike was onto something here…because I have. There are times when nothing and absolutely nothing goes as it should. Bad days, clumsy days, f**ked up days…it’s the only way to describe these. But what is it that makes things go so awry? Why is it that sometimes things are good and going well as they can be…while other times they’re up your ass like a rejected suppository on a mission of vengeance? Depending on what your situation is, there are various reasons why things can go wrong… reasons that happen to be relative to the individual. But, I find myself contemplating a theory that might suggest that there may be a common aspect no matter the individual and no matter the situation. Is it possible that the underlying reasons why two different individuals in different time-zones and in totally different scenarios, having a bad day may be similar? Let’s see, to get pissed off about something, two things must happen…..
One, there must be the aggressor…the initial spark for the anger and two, the agressee, so it would seem must take it personal and respond to the aggression. There…I just solved the mystery….hehehe….
Well, actually….that was a poor attempt at a joke. However, all jokes aside….there is almost always a common reason why people end up having bad days. And I think it has something to do with the way they respond to the daily pressures, and the daily aggression they meet. To me, it’s all about doing what you can to maintain a positive view on things and situations that might have aggravated you. This is easier said than done. If for example you are at work, then keeping your mind on you are supposed to accomplish on that day will allow you to stay focused on the things that matter. True enough sometimes that it is the things that happen at work that might make you angry…but in the end, what are you left with? In the end it is you, yourself and your anger/misery. I also think that irritation may be as a result of body inadequacies….let me explain. If all you had was two hours of sleep the night before, chances are you will be rather cranky all day. The body needs to rejuvenate itself, and a healthy dose of recuperative sleep is what it needs to give you the energy for yet another day at work.
I find that a good hobby will help you grow and strengthen you psychologically, and the less you find that irritates you, the less irritation you have to endure.
So, the lesson to be learned here; There are no curses… you will win if you set your mind to it….win against social and psychological irritation….tools that make your day f**ked up. A good hobby helps you stay positive and focused on what really matters, and taking care of your physical well being allows you to maintain the focus, and provides the energy you need to tackle the days.
March 31st, 2007
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As loyal visitors to my site can deduce, I recently had two pages out for repair and additional material. This whole site production and maintenance thing is fairly new to me and I’m working on the creative part of it, as well as improving the ease at which visitors can navigate. Part of the problem is content. In my attempt to cater to all audiences, I am limited by the need to be politically correct and sensitive. Though I may have my moments, where I throw caution to the wind and let it ride… I’d like to support the fight against bigotry. Yes, I have my opinions and just as the next guy; you may not agree with me, but even worse, you may actually find some offensive. This is the reason I steer clear of these sensitive issues.
Nonetheless, I’ve been suffering from writers block for quite some time now. Not that I was ever a good writer, but even then, I had something to say, something to express. All I had to do was look for a way to articulate these opinions through pen and paper….or in this case, Microsoft Word. I have in the last few weeks been very much uninspired to do the things I like to do in my leisure. I don’t remember the last time I went out on photo-missions, I don’t recall the last time I listened to some music, I don’t even remember the last time I sat down to read a book. I have no idea what is taking up my free time, but I am dead set on working on it.
In all honesty, I believe this reality that is the life that I live is, or rather has gone beyond anything in the norm. I mean, not that I think my life is extraordinary, not that my life is one that is better than anyone else’s out there,….please believe me, I am in no way trying to toot my horn here. C’mon, it’s not everyday that any other Tom, Dick or Harry, while walking along a busy street, is threatened by a deranged wino, with intent to sue over allegations of stolen pornographic material! Yeah…it’s sad really…but I can afford to laugh at it.
March 28th, 2007
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While thoughts of thoughts within other thoughts crisscross my mind, I can’t help but think. A trail of thought inversely proportional to the synthesis of the logical premises in delicate construction, the time it takes for me to realize…..It is all but a journey towards fulfillment. Fulfillment of desires, perhaps founded not only in one’s psyche, but also influenced in part by the society within which we dwell. What are we? What is our purpose in life? Is the inevitability of death the only factor certain in our existence? The beginning of life; the culmination of life; and the countless variables inhabiting the part in-between the former and the latter, leaving us with all but these questions, “Am I fulfilled? Have I done well to be what I can be?” These are the plaguing thoughts in the mind of a dying man. “Am I doing well? Am I fulfilling myself?” These are the thoughts of a man, yet to live longer.
Consider this….we begin to die, the moment we are conceived.
March 21st, 2007
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It’s amazing how much we take the little things that make life worth living, for granted. Everyday we wake up in the morning, (afternoon if you’re a wino…) or whatever time we do, and start to go about our usual routines. Mine’s as follows….
- Sit up a curse at the world….I mean who in the hell decided that the most productive part of the day is in the morning? Because this assumption has led the working society to be expected at work by 7am, which means some of us have to be up as early as 5am, just so that we can escape the morning rush hour - hundreds of people just like me, in their motorcars, crammed on a two lane highway, and all trying to get to work at the same time.
- Walk into the bathroom where I fumble around looking for my toothbrush and proceed to sanitize my oral regions.
- Hop into the shower where I open my eyes for the first time. Ah! The water’s too hot! – happens to me every morning….the plumbing’s got it in for me, I swear!
- In better spirits, I dress up, and get ready for work…..
- Contact lenses…something about sticking your finger in the eye that’s unnerving, have to remember to have my glasses fitted.
- I grab my keys and I’m gone
So I slave away the day….trying to make ends meet – unless you have large sums of money and are self employed, or you are addicted to crack and basically spend the day high as a kite, this is the way of life for most of everyone else
Evening,
- Tired, insulted by the insignificance of fast-food and slightly light-headed as a result of inhaling the fumes while in traffic, I make a beeline for the refrigerator.
- Gauge myself in whatever I can conceivably digest and make my way to the bedroom where I get off my work clothes…. (I hate ties) and into something breathable.
- I then head to the gym, [every other day] – Ladies do not get excited…..but here’s my no. 1 (20….) Or I work on a project or two….[ I always have something up my sleeve]
- Bedtime. I fetch my alarm clock….and put it back together, [I break the damn thing every morning!! I wonder how it remains functional!] And in the morning, I do it all over again…
Till one day, something happens and you realize just how easily a simple daily routine can change significantly without any signs of this impending change.
This occurred to me when at one point, - somewhere between “I grab my keys and I’m gone….”- and - “tired and insulted….” – I was in the vicinity of a shootout between armed men and police officers in Northeast Washington D.C. At a gas station filling up, (man! I need to stay away from gas stations! See ‘war-path’) when a three police vehicles rushed in and skidded to a stop in front of a townhouse across the street. The officers were beginning to move towards the entrance of the house when suddenly the occupants (found out later there were 5 of them.) opened fire at the officers. I hit the ground like it was made of butter while the police officers traded bullets with them. The whole ordeal was over in a few minutes but it seemed like an eternity.
In the face of such ‘hollywood-movie-like action’, you can’t help but feel rather exhilarated while at the same time gripped with a mortal fear so deep and intense, many actually throw up as an after effect; yes, I threw up… if you think you have nerves of steel I congratulate you….but I also feel sorry for you.
Unexpected events like these that are potentially life threatening will force-feed a giant slice of humble pie to anyone involved. Did you know that although the crime rate has been steadily decreasing in the last 10years, you will still expect an average of 250 homicides in the District of Columbia, almost 90% of them through gun violence? This is based on a study carried by the FBI and released in 2004 (here).
Now during the four minutes I lay on the ground prostrate, I could not hear anything but gunfire and screaming. Truly, this was an excruciating ordeal. I couldn’t wait till it was over…and I could get back to my regular routine…I wished I had the ignorance that had been taken away from me before the gun-fight… ignorance of what it would be like to hope to live; what it would be like to wish someone would stop this fear of dying; what it would be like to hope that you will get up and curse again in the morning; hope that someone would stop the violence that is like a malignant cancer….eating away at mankind and his morals, from within. I hoped to pray again, I hoped to be a rowdy spectator at a soccer game, thoroughly enjoying myself…..in four minutes I kept hoping against hope, against hope.
February 28th, 2007
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It is said that males are easily stimulated by visual stimulants while women require a little bit more, perhaps touch, to achieve the same stimulus. It then makes sense that males are more susceptible to sexual desire than women, who in this case need little or no effort to control these urges. Most species have a 1:3 male to female ratio, and this is no surprise that the males are genetically wired to mate and mate again with a female or even more than one female in order to facilitate the survival of the species. Now, with this background, and without much of a clue about what I’m driving at in this discussion, no less….let’s try to justify why men think of sex all the time.
First, ladies, you need not judge us in that manner. We think about sex because sex is the very act that is celebrated in all human indulgences. Maybe it’s overrated, but hey, if you have had sex more than the one time you tried it with the overzealous and inexperienced boy next door, you will agree with me. Also, in the ever changing society, newer ventures into the fashion world, more and more women and more and more cultures are accepting these daring designs that drive men crazy. It may come in form of a really tight pair of low-rise jeans, or even a regular-size skirt that is so translucent, you will swear it’s transparent. These daring feats into the fashion world are aimed at the one thing that sells…..attraction and ultimately SEX. Now, let’s go back to where we said men are easily stimulated by visual elements…enough said.
The intricacies of the Laws of Attraction between men and women get a lot more complicated. It is said that with this quality fore mentioned of men, they are regarded as shallow. All they want is to satisfy their desires. Well…this may be true; So we want bump uglies with the hot chica in the tight low-rise jeans… we have no problem admitting it. But let’s look at the chica in the tight low-rise jeans. She knows half her ass-cleavage is showing, she knows this and even decides to highlight the fact by donning a low-cut tank-top that only gets to within the first half of the top section of her torso….so now she is proudly showing both cleavages. She probably works out three times a week, has buns of steel and only eats just enough calories to sustain her physique. Though the latter is good for healthy living, we all know being healthy is perhaps the last thing on her mind. She does all this so that she can confidently wear what she is wearing…and in turn, so that she can drive men who happen to glance at her, crazy. She invokes this reaction because it feels good to be wanted, it feels good to be desired….and that means all those rice-cakes and leafy dinners are not in vain. She desires to be desired.
Now, let’s switch it up a little bit. This time, this dude, puts in at least 15hours a week in the gym benching in the upper 180’s with biceps from the land of hulks a chest that’s tearing at the seams of his tight t-shirt and a neck that makes his head look like part of the neck. Women, I am told, like men who are muscular, and the trend these days is not only striving to look like an underwear model, but more like trying to look like the governator while in his prime. So then what’s this..? Women are attracted by what they see as well? Women want it just as bad as we do….
It is important to note that what the eye finds good-looking invokes a sense attraction in the beholder. So it’s just as well that women are attracted by what they see. The key factor to note in this discussion is the way in which men and women respond and deal with it. Most men deal with this much in the same way as simply drinking a glass of water when parched; they will in most cases be driven to want to act upon it, while women can easily thwart it…and therein lay the differences…
Moreover, there are other things to realize in this discussion. The height of the sexual revolution was mostly experienced in the late 60’s and the 70’s. With high octane rock, disco-fever, cocaine beverages and the room to experiment, these were the perfect conditions for a sexual revolution. With this era came new rules to govern courtship. The days of conservative dating and arranged marriages were numbered. People could make out in the streets in full view of the public, and it was termed ‘freedom of expression’
Then it wasn’t long before people started to look for ways to seem more desirable to the opposite sex. Muscle cars, fancy hair-cuts and daring fashions were the quintessential part of the society. But ladies, consider this…..did you know that whatever men do has something to do with women? I’ll explain….a man with a fancy house and a fancy car….has these things not only because they are good to look at and raise him in social stature, but also because women like fancy houses and fancy cars, and that gives him an edge over other guys. If he could get what he wanted with a woman living in a cardboard box and riding a supermarket cart, he wouldn’t care much! Similarly, if a woman could feel wanted and desired without having to experience a draft in her nether regions, then she would be content with a regular frock. Okay this may be a tad extreme, but it’s not far from the reality of it.
So you see, ladies….its not only the need to procreate and spread our seed that drives us, it is also the fact that women as well as want us to tear that ass up! Or at least want us to hope we could, as they amount to the same thing.
February 26th, 2007
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