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Was reminiscing a little while ago about life...death...friends...got me thinking about what's truly important. I came across this post that I found on an old friend's blog....and am feeling guilty about not reading it more when he was around. I would have learned much if I had, and it's funny how a good teacher can continue to teach long after he is gone. A good teacher/mentor puts the student before her/himself. Anyhow here it is, and although a bit dated, it surely still holds water today:
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and maybe it was my fault.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an Elastoplast to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.
Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.
Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim.
Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.'
Although he is not the original author, and nor is the person who posted it on the blog, it makes perfect sense when keeping in mind the values that he and she have stood by.
For a company who claims to take pride in bringing cutting edge technology to consumers in a rebellious fashion,
they sure have demonstrated the exact opposite attitude with these latest actions.
I'm surprised to see them miss the big picture here.
Here's the story:Click Here
Which software/browser do you guys use to view transactions, payment verifications and so on within the blockchain?
…Chapter 1 -As he slowly unbuttoned the top of his jeans, Pasquale collapsed on the plastic covered couch. He looked over to Francesca and beckoned her over with his dark, seductive eyes. Francesca had never been in this situation before. She was frightened, afraid she hadn’t fed Pasquale enough. What if he’s still... hungry?“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can fry you some cottalette if you like”. Pasquale looked over to her, and slowly began to moisten his lips.“Yes, I'm hungry,” he whispers seductively. “but not for cottalette...for you”. He slowly began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a large gold crucifix lost in a bed of black grey tufts of thick chest hair. Francesca had dreamed of this day. In her mind she thought she’d be on her wedding bed, protected by a photo of Padre Pio tucked snugly under her mattress. She thought she could stay true to the promise she made her Nonna all those years ago. No amount of oil could remove the malocchio she would bring upon herself for giving into this temptation. But looking over at Pasquale, she knew that resistance was futile. Pasquale beckoned her over to sit with him, the cold plastic squeaking as the doyley fell from the back of the couch. He reaches over to the cassette player, and pushes in his famous mix tape of old world music. She gasps as he unbuttons her blouse. The smell of mortadella and vino overwhelm her as he begins to nibble on her neck. What was she doing? How could she do this under the gaze of large statue of the Madonna that watched judgingly from the corner of the room? Pasquale, now in just a white undershirt, sees her looking at the statue, and throws his shirt over it. “She doesn’t need to see this” he whispers into her ear, as he begins to kiss her passionately. Before she knows it, Francesca is on her back, swinging to the rhythm of“Lazy Mary” as it belts over the single speaker radio. As Pasquale begins to increase the rocking, the crystalerra adjacent to the couch begins to shake, bombinieri from Compare Giuseppe and Comare Nanina’s nipoti's baptism begin to fall, spilling sugared almonds across the fragile glass. This is nothing like she had expected. She thought he would at least take his socks and sandals off. As Pasquale comes to a stop, he sits back up, and smiles at her. Whilst Francesca is relived it is over, part of her wanted more. She had a new hunger now, one that could not be satisfied by Pasquale’s 48 second performance. Surely this couldn’t be all. Maybe he’s not done. She looks into his eyes and he smiles at her. He draws his face close, and whispers softly into her ear. “I’ll have that cottalette now”.
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