llego

There's nothing cyclical about all this' date=' because financially we're in uncharted waters.

 

Is anyone watching the U21 leagues? The talent tap has slowed to a trickle.[/quote']

 

Its just an extreme version of whats happening in many sectors of the worlds economy, real estate and finance especially. Bubbles. Overgrowth and weakening of fundamentals followed by collapse.

 

Shoepiss, of course its terrible in Spain as well, probably worse!

 

And the USA is the #1 proponent of this business model (though oddly not in its sports).

Disgwace!

 

An odd analysis.

 

Abrahamovic and Mansour can keep going forever.

The system cant. Every Chelsea and Man City inflates prices across the board, forcing smaller clubs into increasingly irresponsible spending in an attempt to keep up.

He's a caterer if anybody is interested in booking him.

Im in tears here!

Turns out short term thinking, massive unsustainable over investment, and an accompanying media hype machine trying to cash in weaken a league over time.

Not really a surprise, is it?

 

I hope somebody throws a goat at him.

He would first try to lick it, mistaking it for a window, before settling for a quick headfirst snuggle, mistaking it for his missing hair.

The life and times of a multi millionaire' date=' riveting stuff, real life quandries and problems.[/quote']

 

Exactly.

 

Im shocked Dave u supported him for so

long, worst thing hes ever done in my opinion. Ever.

Lenins a wierdo, what kind of an adult still does that commie stuff? Was over it at 17.

Ya codgers. Its adolescence, its supposed to get a bit weird. Sounds like you two often catch yourself thinking of dicks and then fly into fits of self hating rage.

Bit of a weird reaction Lenin old boy...

Sounds like youre having some internal battles to be honest.

Rafa is a humble man, a compassionate man, and of course a very intelligent man. But hes too reliant on his mind. At some deep level, he thinks he can control everything. When this belief clashes with unpredictable reality, the result is he becomes overly risk averse. Rafa needs to close his eyes and let go...

Dont have any brothers, do you Turdseye..

 

That is all kinds of wrong.

I know, only time I ever lost to him at anything!

 

Yeah' date=' don't get me wrong...Colombia is fecking great, lots of lovely looking women, good nightlife and pretty safe in most places...

 

The problems do lie in the SW of the country though....that's where the FARC are, and where we hear all the problems from...

 

Pasto would probably be quite safe as a city, it's just the getting there, flying in would be the best option...

 

I mentioned your post to a couple of students I have, and they just laughed and said, yeah, that's the red zone of Colombia...

 

So, tell him to keep his wits about him if he's travelling by road to Pasto, it's best to fly there....but have a ball with the rest of the country....oh, if you have blue eyes and can dance a bit of latin style, you will be king.....;)[/quote']

 

Cheers man, he does dance some salsa but we are both brown eyed mongrels.

There was a kid in my 8th grade class at school who used to wank in class. He used to make a hole in his pocket and go for it. Got caught a few times and was sent to the Head's office to be caned but it didn't stop him.

Sadly I was off sick on the memorable day he wanked into his hand and when the teacher turned his back to the class to write on the blackboard Chris expertly flicked a blob of jizz onto his back.

Instant school legend.

He was in my rugby team as well. One Saturday morning when we were about 15 his dad was driving us to rugby when Chris asked him to stop for a couple of minutes so he could see a mate. Chris went into some strangers yard' date=' hopped the fence to his 24 year old girlfriend's place and knocked one off. We pissed ourselves laughing when we arrived at the ground and his dad noticed that he had put his shorts on back to front.[/quote']

 

This is the kind of reply I was hoping for to be honest.

 

I once had a three way wanking race with my little brother and my best friend. It was a sleepover, we were each in our respective beds and counted it down. My brother had won before we said go.

 

Asking for it on here is a bit like self harm.

Absolutely true.

To be fair I mostly wanted to talk about wanking habits.

 

It's a bit convenient isn't it? One would think lazy weekends and late breakfeasts would suit your distance relationship.

Relationship advice on here is a bit like medical advice from WebMD... you always have cancer!

Wouldn't it be cheaper to 'backpack' around East LA? I know' date=' not as cool but equally dangerous.[/quote']

 

No sign of la buena vida in LA Im afraid...

South of Cali isn't the best of ideas....if your brothers in that area' date=' tell him to be very very careful...

 

The rest of Colombia is pretty safe, people are friendly enough and stressfree...just everyone knows that once you start travelling down south, not to be surprised if there's trouble...it's FARC country there....[/quote']

 

Yeah my parents are freaking out of course. Its strange because i get the sense that there are so many westerners going everywhere... hard to tell wheres actually too dangerous.

 

I cant wait to visit him in the summer!

Just got this email from my little brother. He's 22. How I wish I was there with him!!

We took a bus (tobias, a dutch student Im working with) to Pasto, leaving Cali at about 9:30 AM yesterday. We made it past Santander de Quilichao and were starting to climb the mountains when we reached Mondomo. >That name will always remain in my memory. <The surrealist of places. 10:30, and we3 had hit traffic. A stop in the road. Not unheard of in Latin America. People were calm, sat outside, watched the sun pass. Vendors came and sold cold water and soda, homemade ice cream. I read, helped Tobias prepare for the meeting the following day. The hours passed, we had lunch. We heard that the block was part of a coffee worker{s strike. Still, everyone remained calm.

 

Night came, I started to think we wouldn{t make it to the meeting at all. Our bus was parked double parked in a long line of others, for kilometers. Across from our bus was a little bakery-- they might as well have organized the strike they were raking in dough. As night settled in and dusk left, people flocked to the flourescent light and warm smell fresh bread. Tobias bought some beers. A few other foreigners were in a group. Everyone was amiable, no one was hopeful, but no one seemed to preoccupied. A group of musicians from the carribbean coast pulled out a guitar and a cajon and bongos and started playing there, in the middle of restaurant to a growing crowd. A big group of peruvians were stranded with us, all coming from an HERBALIFE conference in Bogota, all trying to convince us we needed nutrient suppliments to be healthy.

 

When the musicians wrapped up, someone pointed to me and my ukulele, demanding the next perfomance. I mustered up my nerve and began to play Volver Volver-- and a great big voice started belting along with me. We went through all the rancheras I could remember, some I hadn{t ever played before on uke. People sang along, the peruvians clapped to everything, and a nice afro-colombian lady announced that this was Colombia damnit and even a general strike was a party. So enjoy!

 

Then we sat and chatted over some beers. There was a brazilian mine worker, a german couple, an australian, and three nice pastusos (ppl from pasto). It got later, people got ready for a night on their buses. Suddenly figures carrying heavy sticks, with covered faces came. One bought a cigarette from the bakery. Then they began letting air out of the bus tires. I climbed into the bus to pull my baggage out. One came on the bus and explained calmly that everyone had to get off because they were going to burn the bus. Fear was on everyone{s face. The bus driver calmly started letting air out of the tires, keeping up a pleasant conversation with the masked men. The figures darted from bus to bus letting out air. Then just as everyone had gotten off the bus, as per their orders, they were gone. Short attention spans.

 

We sat and played some music, and drank some aguardiente caucano off on a side road, trying to keep quite and not attract any attention. The moon came out. Finally after trying to write a song commemorating the nuttiness of the evening, I pulled out my sleeping bag and curled up to sleep on the sidewalk, preferring that to the cramped bus.

 

Morning came, motorcycle exhaust blew into my face. All night there had been motorcycles running back and forth, weaving between the trucks that the protestors had parked blocking the road. People were calm. School children stared as they walked their usual routes, now weaving through buses and more people then they had probably ever seen at once. Now and then groups of stocky indians carrying heavy sticks or machetes passed by.

 

We decided we would head back to Cali, walking past the road blocks and then getting a lift wherever the road was free again. There were 8 of us, a very international team, loaded up with bags and suitcases. Just as we started off, a man squeezed through two 18 wheelers parked across the road, shouting that riot police were coming. Tear gas, violence, chaos. Then came a stream of people, running, shouting, screaming. We turned and ran, up towards the health post. We heard ka-thump, bang. Tear gas canisters being shot off. Women with young children, running.chaos.

 

We made it inside the health center, watched as machete wielding men ran past. A strange sweet smell filled the air, my eyes itched a little.

 

We waited 10 minutes, then ventured outside. The road was being cleared, broken glass littered the streets. Burnt tires left wiry frames in black charred piles of rubber. Our group was shaken. They wanted to wait things out in the health center. Others said that everyone had left already since the police had cleared things. Everyone we asked had a different report. A bus had been burnt. The rioters were using molotov cocktails. There were many more blockades. Further down the road it was still violent. A group of riot police was hanging out in the shade of a truck with punctured tires. I asked them if we could pass. Finally, we were given a yes. We gathered all our people and walked past the police all in black protective gear. Some smiled and said welcome to colombia. We passed three more groups of riot police. On a hill a large group of farmers were waiting in the shade of a tree. We passed a few more 18 wheelers, with men busily replacing tires. Finally a bus came hurtling down the road, honking. 7 mil pesos to Cali ($3.50). We were out of a bizarre scene, and back into reality.

The woman who dictates the reductions on items in Tesco' date=' bludgeon her to death with that fucking gun. Frankie Boyle, Painfully unfunny, Scottish, wears glasses, need I go on ? struggling with the third but possibly Castro, prerhaps then the entire student population may not feel as comfortable wearing a t shirt wih his face on without having the slightest fucking clue who he is.[/quote']

 

Reckon thats Che though?

Hitler an absoloute cunt of the Highest order id take great joy in kicking up and down his office.

Surely this must go down as a Simon classic.

 

I think that the thing of note in this game was that I had enough centres' date=' and dominance, to have taken the solo on about three of the last few turns but held off and let my ally catch up and take the share.

 

Stu Monty: Reliable partner in war since 1939.

 

Got a few more wins lined up at the moment (and one where I've been bummed silly).

 

Signed up for this latest game. Might be cool if we get enough of us to go premium and can have some different games as time goes on. The map with a lot of Northern Africa is very different.[/quote']

 

Wait what? Thats exactly what I did with Germany and you got mad...

Stubborness is your ego closing you off to reality, its really only hurting yourself in the long run. Of course Im open to disagreement on the matter and wont be arguing my point.

My little brother has suffered from depression in recent years. Hes far more successful than me by anyones measure, graduated from Harvard and got grants to do field research all across South America... and yet these crippling bouts of depression reduce him to feeling utterly worthless. Hes just paralyzed when its really bad, cant leave his room.

Having been on and off meds for a while, and also in various therapy and counseling programs, he had come to see it as a condition that would always be with him, that he had to avoid through finding the right environment. One of the psychologists he saw told him the self fulfiling prophecy that people who had a bout of depression were more likely to be depressed again. All this combined to create an intense fear of the depression in him, so that a slight mood dip could quickly escalate into a severe bout.

One of the main causes, I think, is that like many people in our culture, he identifies with what he does (mainly in a work/career sense). When hes doing many interesting things, he feels valued and has a high self worth. When he has little to do, he feels worthless. Of course, the worse he feels, the more driven he is to do things, the more overwhelmed and paralyzed and unable to do anything he becomes...

What seems to help the most is bringing himself back to the present. The depression, the fear, it all exists in his mind, in an imagined future or a remembered past. None of it's real. Right now, right at this moment, he just is, and he is worth the same no matter what his current activity may be. In this regard sitting meditation has been a helpful tool as well.