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The Stone-Builders [By their Weapons] [Big-chest was a reluctant hero, for the most part, that is, in killing the Stone-Builders; yet when he could, he did so of course, --but I say reluctant I suppose with reluctance; for it was not unlike everyone at this time to be disinclined to kill them, they seemed to be in the vein of the gods, un-killable: yet he killed them and fought them, more so than anyone else—less out of conviction than out of desire to avoid dishonor and social embarrassment for himself.] Said I [I, being: Short-legs], I had seen one time Big-chest walk into a campsite of theirs, the Stone-Builders that is, —I tried to tell this story to my brother, Stern-toes, once, but I never could explain it right, but I think he got the jest of it, if not the seriousness, we did both laugh at the Stone-Builders for hours on end, afterwards. As I was about to say, myself and Little-eyes witnessed this whole happening from a distance of course. The Stone-Builders were full of what they called: ‘wone, or wine,’ something along that order, some sounds take me back a bit, they had new sounds all the time, yes O yes, inventing new sounds like the growing of leafs on a tree, coming into our brains like new winds, dragging it into a mode of thinking more everyday, instead of being fond of the birds, and just living: eating, sleeping and dying—these words we never heard of before were floating everywhere in the air, ever since that is, the arrival of the Stone-Builders on the scene: before this, before Eve walked out of that Garden, things were dangerous, but much more quiet. Well, Big-chest, noticed one evening—not being too far in the thick of the foliage by their campsite [the Stone-Builders site]—they had killed a man-eater [lion]; there were four of them, called ‘soldiers,’ at the campfire-site, a resting place to them: just laughing, and drinking, and being playful like a group of little cubs: lion cubs—wild and whimpering [whiny] lion-cubs, that is exactly what they were like. I could see Big-chest laughing to himself—inside that big muscular oversized chest: as he watched them wrestle around with one another, actually they did get a little over physical with one another, like the wild boars whom would chase after one of us, wanting to eat us for a feast, and then they’d settle down again. It was a cold winter’s night that day, so there was a real chill in the air, and not all that much leafy undergrowth for us to hide or for that matter to slap the chill away: nor for that matter Big-chest: although he had a coat of hair all over him to keep him warm anyways—showed a bit of chill in his face also. Although—I was grateful for the few large trees with the plant-life tucked around me, it absorbed some of the wind—the brisk, cold winds seeping by us, around us, and almost through us: the shrubbery covered us, as we remained in the distant woods, with a pile of leaves up to our knees: leaves for warmth and camouflage, --camouflage being a plan incase we figured we’d have to duck, hide ourselves-quickly should they get the best of Big-chest, but we doubted that: Big-chest was just the opposite of us----mean,--plus as always, Big-chest was confident of his abilities, he stood in the woods, no shadow—not sure what he did with it, but he was cleaver; just a big blob of muscle, hair and sharp eyes, small squinty eyes pinned on the four Stone-Builders, at the camp site, and their man-eater, that was going to be his dinner. He was actually blocking our vision a bit, but I think he did that because he wanted to show his audience—which was us—who was the braver. I actually had some kind of a feeling for those men who were about the meet Big-chest, a gloomy feeling at best, and a thankful feeling: thankful, it was not us in their place; yet both I and Little-eyes, both surely held feelings of revenge for the Stone-Builders, and this was kind of a good time for the revenge to seep out, but I don’t care for revenge for the most part, not really, it takes too much energy, saps you—in review, all was quite mysterious to me. Then unsuspected, he walked into the camp, tall as a mountain, hairy as a leafy think forest, long, a very long mouth from ear to ear, his teeth showed—he walked reminiscent of the king of the Stone-Builders [I think he was mimicking him—he like to do such things], he must have seen him walk, for he was arched just like their king, head back, eyes slanting down as if they were subordinates; --among the four he crept up, not a word, not a sound, the dark-dragging behind him, the sky had very little light given by the stars, but it followed him overhead none the less, a cloud covered the moon—as if he and Big-chest were pals; now he had seen their weapons by the fire, where the dead lion lay, if anything, Big-chest was shifty: sly, observant: he was swaying his body akin to the huge trees in a storm, not sure exactly why, but I think it got his blood moving and his limbs more flexible for swinging when he used them for clubs—and it made for a good showing: his hands were as big as large branches of a tree: and as hard. Closer and closer he came to the fire, no one noticed him yet, can’t figure it out, no one, no one at all, --could they not hear him a little, just a tiny bit, I asked myself, for both myself and Little-eyes could hear his foot steps even in the woods, at twice their distance, I was about to learn we had better hearing than these new creatures. But then this new breed of course, can not have all the advantages, thank goodness, thus, our senses were better, we were tuned higher one might say, and they were tuned with more and a higher intelligence than we. His fingers now, almost touching the ground—I could see—he, he had long thick arms, and fingers, and perturbing muscles, he was impressive to look at, huge to digest with your eyes, and frightening if you did not see him on a daily bases, and dangerous to be around, at any time. Then all of a sudden two of the four turned their necks to see what was in back of them; not sure if they heard him, sensed him, or just did out of an automatic military checking ritual,--whereupon, they almost went into shock: two stood up, all four were some fifteen feet from their weapons. The two who were squatting, the closest to the fire, were in a panic, the other two were a little farther away, standing now, unsure, thinking. I think one was releasing himself; he made a puddle and was trying to cover it up by kicking dirt, how modest. I figured why waste your time, this was precious time, run, run, run: that is what I’d do, but I really was hoping they’d not run, I must have an evil side in me also, just like them; you know, they got this pride thing, and I was hoping they would stay with this pride and arrogance, and then as I stopped thinking for a moment, Big-chest knock it out of them, if that is, they had any pride left. I think I was starting to get like them, that being: aggressive thoughts. In any case, Big-chest took his right hand swung it backwards to build up momentum, and with the force of a giant tree, hit the head of one of the squatters as he was about to stand up, it sounded faintly similar to thunder, and I could hear it snap, and rip, similar to a timber falling after lightening strikes it, strikes a tree out of its roots, its stretching roots out of the ground. He fell on his chest, then pushing himself, flopped over and onto his shoulder as if it had nothing holding his head in place, like a dead fish flopping, jumping in a creek—he lost his inner breath. The other one tried to get to his weapon, but Big-chest, akin to lightening, jumped with one leap over to him, picked him up by one leg, his penis showing, as Big-chest looked strangely at it, as if to laugh at a small ugly worm, for they all liked covering them up for some odd reason, and Big-chest now must have figured out, he knew why. And we both in the bushes started to giggle, snicker, laughing at the sight—I wanted to say laugh again—but we had to hold our laughing inside our stomachs for a while, so as not to spoil his feat. Then after our expressions of amusement, a stern grin appeared on Big-chest’s face—I think he heard us—in any case, he tossed him into the fire when he got bored looking at him, after twisting him about for a few seconds, breaking his leg in several places I imagine, for I kept hearing crunches, as if bones were cracking, and then there was his screams. Then one of the two standing routed himself through the woods yelling something on the order of: “Hhhhh eel pppp...!” Not sure what that meant. The last one, I call him the brave one, or definitely I could call him the stupid one, or should I say foolish one, none-the-less, he pulled out a sharp object, about the length of his hand, and stood in front of Big-chest as if he was going to fight him. At this point I said, and Little-eyes thought: this was the end for him; he [the soldier] looked like a banana compared to Big-chest. I asked myself, ‘Is he crazy? Run, and run while you can,’ and I was on Big-chest’s side now, more than ever, but it didn’t sound like it for that split-moment, but I felt it was a little unfair, size and all. But the man, whom I am calling a brave-soldier, stood his ground, and actually looked at Big-chest in the eyes. My-gosh, the man must have been half his size, about 175 pounds, quick on his feet though, for he was dancing around Big-chest, trying to stab him, and poke him. He looked more like a bee trying to sting someone, but that just irritated him more. Big-chest had taken arrows out of himself one-hundred times before, I bet; arrows deeper than that knife would have ever penetrate, if the person had gotten a chance to lunge it into Big-chest, and he didn’t get that chance: and it never hurt him much: those pokes. These little wounds were nothing, --but should he leap and get a good stab possible in the upper chest of Big-chest, or eye, then I’d worry. To make a long story short: Big-chest just looked dumfounded at the figure in front of him dancing in a circle, and didn’t move very much, except around; I’ve seen Little-eyes close his eye-lids now, he knew, he knew what was about to happen, and with his waving quick long arms, Big-chest picked up the seven foot lionesses, and put it over his shoulder, the crazy Stone-Builder charged at him, and Big-chest with a quick sweep, with a turn, knocked the man flat on his back, onto the ground, he had hit him with the man-eater, as he balanced it over his shoulder. Then, somewhat, disparate, or so it seemed, reminiscent of a dying fish jumping about trying to get back into the water—he: Big-chest—kicked him in the mid-section of his belly, sweeping him into the fire like trash, now almost a dead fish. The Soldier could not move, he surely had a broken spine I thought, had he not, he would had gotten up and run fast out of the fire, and he didn’t: or couldn’t, for Big-chest couldn’t run with the man-eater on his shoulder so it was a good time to escape, if he could. But he didn’t, or couldn’t, nor do I think he intended to. But again, the man tried to move out of the fire with no suitable means other than his arms which were now on fire, for surely his ribs and legs were broken. Big-chest simply turned away from him as if he was insignificant, as I did myself. The defeat was predictable, and most unnecessary. I got thinking: what kind of creature fights when they cannot compete. It has always been the law of the land—to run, unless cornered: hence, when you can’t battle, don’t. It wasn’t necessary to die like that. I was learning about pride and arrogance quickly from these new creatures though; all in time and observation I told myself, and I’d be well informed on their unusual habits. 11 Early winter We had no way of knowing which winter would be good to us or bad for us, and winter this particular winter had come early, and therefore our food supply was exhausted, depleted that is, rather quickly. When Little-eyes and I returned back to the cave the following evening, we had told in our symbolic way: expressed at the Banana Cave that is, to the entire Horde how Big-chest had killed the Eve People. And you could hear the laughter for miles around. I tried to explain how Big-chest had seen or sensed their movements, their evil objective, and their killing intent: as he always seemed to be able to sense survival quite well; he had a special quality of seeing through a person to his evil side, as he could see through us, thus, he could see through the Stone-People as well. I explained how one of the men stayed to fight him, trying to outstare Big-chest, and got kicked into the fire, and died. They all shook their heads in wonderment, we were not the smartest of the inhabitants of earth, but that was sure dumb we all thought, no vocal language was needed for that understanding or response. I think Big-chest had taken his trophy to his cave in our area, and was having a formal meal at this time. We liked anyone who could out smart the Stone-People I suppose, they were smug and we were helpless to them most of the time; they had well groomed weapons, and we had simply rocks and some clubs, along with a few sharpened stones, as they now were being called, knifes, up to the appearance of the Stone-People, they were just tools. And so it felt good if anything, good to see the odds turn for once, and to be frank, they didn’t turn much, if ever in our favor after that episode. But our surprise would come in the morning: --yes, we would not be forgotten for once. Morning In the morning when several of us looked out of our cave entrances, in the center of the canyon below our cliff dwellings, as we often did to be sure we were safe from man or beast, in the open area in the valley below us, we saw half a lion torn open, lying in the center of our domain, for us, it was a treasure, a gift, a donation if anything, and all of us quickly ran to eat what meat Big-chest had left for us. Big-chest was not always so generous, or kind, but for some odd reason, he knew we were starving for some protean, and our bodies were starting to show our ribs. Aimless to say, this never happened again—not in such a quantity, but we all gave Big-chest a super big smile as we walked proudly out of our canyon-caves and ate the raw meat [for he appeared standing erect by a cave entrance observing the feast he provide]; yes, some of us even were tarring at the red meat, animal protein, liken to wolfs. 12 The Hermit by the Sea It was a short period of time from when Big-chest appropriated the lion [took it from the Stone-Builders] and we all ate the meat, when I joined the Horde in the valley on a crisp morning—a morning that told me, the seasons were about to change, thus, leading into spring; I could see my breath: it was so brittle, so I knew winters end was near. There was great commotion in the valley below, as there often was when someone or something new came about to celebrate, I had noticed from my cliff dwelling a gathering of the Horde, looking down, I quickly dashed along the sides of the cliff until I reached the floor of the valley to see what it was, as did Little-eyes, as I had woke him, trying to explain a happening was taking place. Thin-hips of the Horde [Sister to Moss] When I reached the bottom and many of the folk were going to and fro, some with sad and hungry faces, very sad posture, I made my way through several folks now gathered around this one section of the cliff; old-Moss, the Hermit by the Sea, was laying dead, his sister, Thin-hips, was there pacing, walking back and forth, kind of chanting, humming something, sounds on top of sounds—death had waxed his face I noticed. Old Moss was the oldest folk I had ever known, ever heard of. He must have been 60 or 65 years old—I doubt Big-chest was that old. No one ever lived that long, no one that is but Moss, I suppose. You could tell by looking at him, half his death was caused by starvation, the other by his long walk back to the Valley of the Caves, the strenuous walk; a walk many took to come back when they felt their time was short on this ground, like some fish, we all seem to know our dying ground; he came from the far off place, called the Great Cliffs by the Sea. I had only seen him when I was a kid and then once or twice coming and going, within a twenty-year period. He lived in the sand hills far from the Horde as I was saying, to the extreme East, and not far from there to the south was the Great Sea and the cliffs he always told his sister about, much larger than ours, higher than ours he’d say. He add, this place was somewhere between the Sea, and the cliffs, and the strait, and this valley was a flat area, plateau, this is where he wondered off too often, or so he’d claim, upon his return. He knew my father quite well, Long-arms, and did visit him, it was always when I was gone it seemed. They appeared to get along quite well, as one might expect, two strange folks to say the least; not sure what they had in common, matter of fact, if anything, one was lazy—my father, the other, Moss, was quite active I heard. The Great Sea But he did bring back information to his sister, who shared it with us, and of course he’d tell other people also of his journeys, or try to describe them best he could, and we were all quite interested in his tales—it was entertainment: yes he was a man of tales, I guess in one way I admired him for that, it was almost like some of the occupations the Stone-Builders had, or called occupations, which were really doing things by order of their king and getting fed by someone else because of the king—strange. Thus, Moss was our entertainer, and Moss did get fed by most of the Horde’s residents for doing so, I think they’d call him in to their cave to hear him talk, or draw pictures, or act out his strange adventures. Half the time we never knew what he was saying, but then, so what and it was amusement. Everyone liked him, and so did I. top rated pnis enlargement pills herbal penis enlargement pill guide to pnis enlargement penile enlargement photo penis enhancement before and after pnis enlargement cream free exercise tip for penis enlargment bottle vimax pills

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The majority of parents do a good job teaching their children to beware of strangers. Yet most victims of child sexual abuse know the sex offender. In a study of twenty adult sex offenders conducted by Jon Conte, Steven Wolf and Tim Smith; two of the key questions asked were: 1. “Was there something about the child’s behavior which attracted you to the child?” Responses included: • “The warm and friendly child or the vulnerable child…Friendly, showed me their panties.” • “The way the child would look at me, trustingly.” • “The child who was teasing me, smiling at me, asking me to do favors.” • “Someone who had been a victim before—[spanking or inappropriate touch]—quiet, withdrawn, compliant. Someone, who had not been a victim would be more non-accepting of the sexual language or stepping over the boundaries of modesty… Quieter, easier to manipulate, less likely to object or put up a fight…goes along with things.” 2. “After you had identified a potential victim, what did you do to engage the child into sexual contact? Responses included: • “I didn’t say anything. It was at night, and she was asleep. • “Talking, spending time with them, being around them at bedtime, being around them in my underwear, sitting down on the bed with them… Constantly evaluating the child’s reaction… A lot of touching, hugging, kissing, snuggling.” • “Playing, talking, giving special attention, trying to get the child to initiate contact with me… From here I would initiate different kinds of contact, such as touching the child’s back, head… Testing the child to see how much she would take before she would pull away. • “Isolate them from any other people. Once alone, I would make a game of it (red light, green light with touching up their leg until they said stop). Making it fun.” • “Most of the time I would start by giving them a rub down. When I got them aroused, I would take the chance and place my hand on their penis to masturbate them. If they would not object, I would take this to mean it was Okay... I would isolate them. I might spend the night with them… Physical isolation, closeness, contact are more important than verbal seduction.” We cannot ignore the sophistication of sex offenders’ efforts to desensitize the child through the gradual development of a relationship with the child and progressing from non-sexual touch (touching a leg, back or head) to sexual touch. Given that 95-99 percent of sex offenders are people their victims know and trust—family members and other trusted adults—even children as young as two can be taught to know what to do to protect him/herself. For a child who has been taught only to say, “No’ to touching his/her private parts—one of the consequences of this relationship building and desensitization process is self-blame. By the time the child realizes that his/her private parts were touched—the damage is done—and the child may believe he/she has given consent to the abuse. He/she thinks because he/she did not say, “No” when the adult rubbed her/his back or head, he/she is to blame. It only takes one second for a sex offender to stick his tongue into a child’s mouth when he is giving a ‘traditional family’ kiss on the lips. It only takes one second for a sex offender to put his hand up a girl’s leg and touch a child’s labia while she sits on his lap. Studies reveal that teaching a child to say, “No” has little impact because it is rare a child will affect more than weak resistance against a known sex offender. Furthermore, the sex offender will usually ignore a simple, “No.” The sex offender uses subtle or blatant threats, intimidating the child into compliance and silence. My book, If I’d Only Known…Sexual Abuse in or out of the Family: A Guide to Prevention, emphasizes six important prevention techniques. • Non-violation of sacred Body boundaries—to thwart the sex offender who counts on—a child who has been violated before—quiet, withdrawn, compliant. Someone, who had not been a victim, would be more non-accepting of the sexual language or stepping over the boundaries of modesty… Quieter, easier to manipulate, less likely to object or put up a fight…goes along with things.” • Good, Appropriate Touch • Appropriate Body Boundaries • Good Body Image • Tell Mommy and Daddy Everything—No Secrets Rule • Appropriate Suspicion Appropriate Suspicion (intuition, a.k.a. sixth sense) alone when acted upon empowers the child to thwart the majority of would-be sex offenders. Coupled with the other five techniques—your child is well prepared to stop every sex offender in their tracks. Trusting and acting on your intuition or sixth sense and allowing your child to trust his/her intuition is paramount to protecting children from sex offenders, no matter whether they are family members, family friends, doctors, dentists, teachers, etc. Children are naturally intuitive and often sense an adult’s ulterior motives, although you may not suspect anything. We need to accept the reality that no one can be considered exempt from being a sex offender, including all family members. As a parent, be appropriately suspicious and trust your intuition. If you err in evaluating a situation, make the error on the side of your child. The important factor is not that you have avoided offending someone, but that you have protected your child, until you can investigate further. The title of my book, If I’d Only Known… is the lament of my friend’s daughter whose three-year-old son was sexually abused by her step-mother’s ten-year-old son. If only I had known that he would potentially abuse other children because he was sexually abused, I would never have let John play in the backyard alone with him.” She was right, if only parents knew the fact that sexual abuse is perpetrated, ‘anywhere, anytime, and by someone you least expect, they could protect children from this heinous crime. Another important aspect of child protection is taking responsibility. “Those who ignore the past are condemned to repeat it.” –Jean-Paul Sartre “We are not only responsible for what we do, but also, for what we don’t do.” –Voltaire “The worst way you can choose is to choose no way at all.” –Friedrich II “Every choice we make, every thought and feeling we have, is an act of power that has biological, environmental, social, personal and global consequences.” –Caroline Myss “You can not change that which you do not acknowledge. –Dorothy M. Neddermeyer penis enlarement picture vig rx hoax where to buy vigrx prosolution penis elargement pills enlagement forum free matter penis size top rated penis enlagement pills com enhancement penis penis pump penis enlargment tip get vig rx

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The greatest source of discomfort for cyclists is the nose of their bike seat pressing on nerves and soft tissues. For men, this pain brings the additional worry of impotence. Impotence is caused by nerve and artery damage. Exercising regularly helps to keep arteries healthy, so bicycling helps prevent impotence, as long as it does not damage the local arteries and nerves. Recent studies show that three percent of regular male bicycle riders become impotent, and virtually all of them felt pain or numbness before the problem occurred. When a nerve is pinched or the blood supply is shut off to the penis, a man feels numb. Men who ride with conventional bicycle seats and do not feel numb are not likely to be at risk. If you feel no discomfort when you ride, keep on riding and stop worrying. If you feel numbness, get a new seat. Half of the penis is inside the body and the main blood supply comes from the area just behind the scrotum and in front of the rectum. So bicycle seats that press on that area can cause impotence, while those that do not have a nose and have a widened area to hold your weight on your sitz bones should prevent the problem. Some entrepreneurs developed seats that have holes in the middle. Their theory is that if there is no pressure behind the scrotum, there will be no numbness. However, no good studies show that these seats prevent numbness and therefore prevent impotence, because the nose in front of the hole still exerts pressure on the nerves and arteries. They may make the problem worse because the pressure on an area increases as an area deceases. Making a hole in the middle decreases the surface area of the saddle and therefore increases the pressure on the arteries and nerves. The best way to avoid pressure on the arteries that carry blood to the penis is to use a saddle without any nose. I use a rectangular-shaped seat with rounded edges in the front, called The Seat by Ergo. Similar designs are available from The Solution Bicycle Seat, Easyseat, Spongywonder and Spiderflex brands. The Seat is wide enough to allow me to put my weight on the sitz bones of my pelvis instead of my crotch. I never suffer numbness and don't worry about impotence, but it doesn't work for everyone. Racers need to have a bicycle seat nose between their legs to help control the bicycle with their legs, but if you have no need to ride with both hands off the handle bars at the same time, you should be able to use a nose-less seat. Nose-less seats force you to bend forward. To keep yourself from falling, you have to hold yourself up on your handlebars. This puts a lot of pressure on your shoulders arms and hands, so you must strengthen your upper body and change positions often. Other tips for comfort in a bicycle seat include: 1) Avoid seats with excessive padding. The greater the padding, the deeper you sink into the saddle and the more likely you are to feel numbness. 2) Use gel saddles. They are not too hard and not too soft. 3) Never tilt the saddle nose upward. The seat should be level or angle downward slightly. 4) Set your handlebars higher so that you do not have to bend forward. The lower you bend, the greater the pressure on your perineum. 5) Ride a more upright position. However, this increases wind resistance and will slow you down. 6) Change positions often as you ride. 7) Wear thin padding in your pants. Most good bicycle pants come with form-fitted chamois padding.