#in jordan we bought like 5 chicks

[apollos-olives]

do Palestinians like birds as pets? I know that y’all like cats, but do you like birds? And if so, what type of bird is commonly a pet in Palestine?

we do!! i know many people who keep birds as pets, even some family members as well. we love taking care of doves. we think they're very beautiful, and we incorporate a lot of dove symbolism in our culture. we keep other low maintenance birds like budgies or parakeets or lovebirds, yk small birds. people often have chicks and chickens, roosters, and even turkeys that you can often find on the market to buy as well. i hope this answers your question :)

[piccolina-mina]

Pod Squad & Friends on Movie Night

Max [shoving Michael's feet off of the coffee table]: I still don't know why we always have to do it here.

Michael [taking a swig of beer and placing the bottle 5 inches away from the coaster Max set out for him]: You have the nicest place.

Max [placing Michael's bottle on the coaster]: Kyle has a nice place.

Kyle: Like hell am I letting all of you anywhere near my apartment.

Isobel: I used to have a nice place.

Rosa: Really? I used to be dead.

Liz: Alright, so no movies about resurrection then.

Rosa [smiles at Max "sweetly"]: Damn. I was going to suggest The Passion of the Christ.

Alex: *snorts*

Liz: Please don't encourage her. OK, and definitely no --

Everyone: No aliens!

Isobel: Shame though. I was going to suggest Independence Day.

Everyone: *glares*

Isobel: I meant the recent one. Rosa hasn't seen it yet. Touchy.

Max: I was thinking -

Alex: Aw hell. Here we go.

Kyle: Max, buddy. Maybe we should lay off of the, uh --

Rosa: Look, Alien Jesus. No one is sitting through Sense and Sensibility again.

Alex: Or any rendition of Pride and Prejudice, man.

Liz [hesitantly]: Or My Fair Lady.

Max [affronted]: I was ... *mumbles* going to say Pretty Woman.

Isobel: I can watch Pretty Woman! Richard Gere and Julia Roberts? So much eye candy.

Michael: I mean, fair, but no. No more chick flicks.

Max: Not even Hallmark movies?

Kyle: You will not make me sit through that drivel. I refuse.

Maria, Liz, Max: Hey! Wait a minute! Now, hold on a second ...

Isobel: Fine. Let's just watch one of those stupid superhero movies. Spiderman or something.

Kyle: Yeah, Spiderman! That's ... that's good.

Alex *dubious*: Is it Kyle? Which Spiderman?

Kyle: Um, Tom ...

Alex *perks up*: Yeah?

Kyle: MaGuire?

Alex: Seriously? You're f**cking hopeless. We're talking about this later.

Max: Spiderman Into the Universe was a fantastic film.

Everyone: *looks at Max surprised*

Max: What?

Alex: Finally, someone with taste.

Maria: Tobey MaGuire was a cute spiderman. I like those ones.

Alex: What? Everyone knows Tom Holland is the superior Spiderman!

Rosa: Spiderboy maybe.

Alex: *growls*

Rosa: The kid is, like, ten.

Alex: So are you!

Michael *eating all the popcorn that has since gone cold*: Maybe we don't need a movie tonight. This is pretty damn entertaining.

Maria *steals the bowl of popcorn*: Wakanda forever!

Kyle: Wait, I feel like I'm supposed to know that one.

Isobel: Is it a foreign film? I love foreign films. We need to watch more of those.

Maria *blinks*: Goddess, I need more black friends.

Rosa *mumbles*: I don't disagree.

Alex *snags a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Maria's lap*: I told you. Lost causes. We'll watch Black Panther again later.

Isobel *ignoring all of them*: Run Lola Run is a masterpiece.

Liz: It is a masterful film.

Max *raises hand sheepishly*: I vote for that.

Michael *rolls eyes*: Of course you do.

Max *slowly puts hand down and sighs*: I'm going to find more snacks then.

Michael *calls out*: By the way, you need to restock those pizza things. Oh, and the TV dinners. Oh yeah, and I think I ate the last bag of potato chips, but can you not get kettle chips next time?

Max: *gives Michael a dirty and rants about the grocery costs*

Alex: If we're watching Run Lola Run, then we're watching Star Wars next time. It's only fair.

Rosa *sighs*: I'm surrounded by dorks. I can't keep doing this. How about a comedy?

Michael: Now you're speaking my language. How about -

Maria: Guerin, I'm not sitting though another film with Adam Sandler. It's not gonna happen.

Michael: Chill, DeLuca, I was going to say --

Liz: No Will Ferrell either, Mikey. Fart jokes and *gestures* middle school boy humor is not funny. Sorry.

Kyle: Wait, the brillo pad may be on to something.

Michael: *flips Kyle the bird, levitates Kyle's last chip into his mouth, and smirks at an annoyed Kyle*

Isobel: I actually agree with Liz here. Juvenile humor isn't funny.

Michael *grumbles*: Killjoys.

Rosa [under her breath]: Interesting choice of words.

Alex *chuckles*: You're on fire today.

Rosa: Funny you should say that--

Kyle: Anyway, I'm thinking action here, guys. It's the easiest and most agreeable option.

Alex: Shocker. You're always thinking action.

Isobel: Kyle, I don't care how distracting your face is, you will not convince me to sit through the entire Fast and Furious series. Why the f**k are there so many movies anyway? I swear if I have to watch one more I'm going to kil-

Rosa: *raises her brow*

Isobel: Kick somebody's ass!

Kyle: How about Creed?

Maria: You had me at Michael B Jordan.

Rosa: Tessa Thompson.

Michael: Sly Stallone.... I mean, because he's a living legend.

Isobel: If I wanted to watch sweaty guys pummeling each other, I would go out drinking with Michael at the Wild Pony.

Michael: That was almost funny.

Maria: Almost? You're giving Prissy Pamela over there too much credit.

Alex: OK. Well whatever we do, can we at least avoid all the fake hacker shit? I can't take it seriously.

Max: To be fair, you said that about Mr. Robot, and that's pretty authentic.

Alex: No. I *whispers* I said Rami Malek was distracting. Why are we talking about this?

Liz: When did you two -- you guys watched Mr. Robot together?

Max *shrug*: We hang out sometimes. Maria and I cry over Hallmark and Lifetime movies, too.

Maria: No, you cry, Maxwell.

Michael: Cut the shit, DeLuca. You totally cry.

Maria: Rami Malek is good. Bohemian Rhapsody then?

Rosa: Boh-- they did a movie about Queen?!

Alex *excited*: Yes! Well, mainly Freddie Mercury. We should--

Isobel: *waves dismissively* I can't do Bohemian Rhapsody, but if we're doing music, what about A Star is Born?!

Kyle, Max, and Michael in unison: No!

Liz: Isobel, we have watched that three times already.

Max: Maria and I sang a duet to half the -- no. Not again.

Rosa *muttering to herself*: I guess I'll watch Bohemian Rhapsody by myself.

Alex *conspiratorially*: There's a screening next week a few towns over. We'll go then. I already bought our tickets.

Rosa: Have I told you lately you're my favorite?

Alex: *tousles her hair*

Rosa: Asshole. I take it back.

Alex: No you don't.

Liz: There's a really great documentary on the discovery of --

Michael: *feigns snoring*

Max: Liz, honey. Um ...

Isobel: No one wants to watch the history of the mass spectrometry, OK? Science gets you off, not the rest of us. [holds hand up to stop Michael from speaking] Don't you dare joke about porn.

Alex: It's a nice night for horror.

Rosa: Ohh, I second this.

Michael: *shrugs*

Liz: I ... I can't do horror. OK?

Alex: Oh right... the mishap of 2006.

Maria: Riiiiight. No, definitely no horror.

Liz: We agreed not to mention that again!

Kyle: How come I don't know about this?

Max: Why don't I know about this?

Isobel: We need to hear about this.

Liz: No! Um, does anyone need more drinks? I'll get more drinks.

Max: We could always cancel movie night and reconvene at Kyle's place next time.

Rosa: Nice try, second-rate Thor, but no.

Max *mutters*: Second-rate. That's an upgrade.

Kyle and Maria: *have a silent conversation with just their eyes*

Michael: Care to share with the class? *his eyes rest on Maria*

Kyle: *snags for remote and queues up the Die Hard series*

Michael: Hey!

Maria: *high-fives Kyle and smirks* Yippee ki-yay, mother fu-

Kyle: Now, which one are we watching?

Everyone: *groans*

[surveysonfleek]

1442.

Can you remember your first day of school? very clearly lol. i was that kid who cried when their parents dropped them off. Who’s your best friend? my boyfriend. Do you watch the Disney channel? no, we never had cable :( What’s your favourite movie? i have way too many. aladdin, mean girls, white chicks, 40yo virgin etc. Would you rather jump out of an airplane or go scuba diving? honestly the thought of either scares me but i’d probably choose scuba diving.

Do you get bored looking at other peoples’ holiday pictures? it really depends. i love albums that are quality over quantity. my cousin takes photos of absolutely everything so going through her albums of 400+ photos if boring af. Do you give money to charity? i have before but had to stop it coz it was a little too much for me. What can you hear right now? the tv. What does your last received text say? i’m home. Is there anything annoying you right now? not really.  What did you last have to eat? steak. Are you more into music or movies? probably music. Do you like making surveys? i don’t make any. When was the last time you went to a swimming pool? omg i forgot. last year maybe. Can you ride a bike? What age were you were you learned? yes. i was about 5 but was fully confident at about 7 lol. Would you rather have a pet snake or a pet turtle? turtle. Do you have, or would you like to get, any tattoos? no tatts, don’t plan on getting any either. Have you ever seen a band live? Who was the last you saw? yes. majid jordan. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever found in someone’s bedroom? idk lol. Who do you live with? my family. What colour are your socks? not wearing any but i own mostly black socks. When was the last time you went outside? about 30 mins ago. Are you too hot or too cold right now? i’m a little too hot but it’s tolerable. Do you have any musical instruments in your bedroom? nope. Do you like Batman or Robin more? neither. Did you ever love Pokemon? Do you still? yes, i loved it as a kid. i don’t follow it anymore. Do people who use massive amounts of emoticons annoy you? i don’t mind. Have you ever talked to your parents over an IM programme? yes. Do you like painting? i haven’t painted in years. What was the last clothing item you bought? pants and shorts. Do you have any fairy lights in your bedroom? nope. What does your washing powder smell like? like typical laundry detergent. that linen smell lol. Do you have a dishwasher or do you do dishes by hand? dishes by hand. Are there any cobwebs in your room? hopefully not. Do you keep a diary? not this year. What made you laugh last? a video. Have you ever used a pick-up line and had it work? no lol. Do you read Texts From Last Night? How about FML? nope. Are you wearing any jewellery right now? nope. Do American / British spelling differences annoy you? haha. not really. i do british spelling for everything coz that’s how we were taught. Do you like the smell of lavender? i don’t mind it. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? no and no. Did you keep any drawings / stories from when you were younger? yeah basically anything from my school books that i still have. Who did you last have an argument with? my boyfriend. When was the last time you cooked for yourself? last week. When was the last time you wrapped a present? christmas. Do you have a safe? no. What’s the scariest thing to happen to you so far? idk tbh. maybe when i was at the airport and alarms started blaring for 10-15 minutes. i stayed pretty calm though. What was your last dream about? (or your daydream if you don’t remember) no idea. i never remember my dreams. Do you own a baby names book? nope lol. i used to always look through them at the library though. Do you read TV magazines? no. When was the last time you saw a relative? today. What time is it right now? 12:39am. Do you shout out the answers at quiz shows? haha yes. Have you ever been in a TV audience? yes haha! Have you ever entered the lottery? Won anything? i’ve done it once and didn’t win anything. When was the last time you were so angry you thought you would burst? haha maybe two weeks ago. Do you skip breakfast? sometimes. Are you in anyway close to reaching a personal goal? no. Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? word searches are a ton easier. Have you ever drawn on a wall in your house? no. Felt-tip pens or highlighters? felt tip. Do you like making collages? i did as a kid. Have you ever kept a scrapbook? yes. What’s your favourite video-game? the sims, tekken, gta 5, watchdogs and rdr. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? not from the top of my head. Do you think you’re a geek? no. Have you ever made up a word? no. Do you get nervous speaking to people you don’t know on the phone? yes haha. Are you scared of anything irrational? driving somewhere i’m not familiar with. Can you calm yourself down or do you just get all panicked at things? i panic over everything. Do you need to wash your hair? nope. What are your plans for tomorrow? working. Have you ever forgotten how to spell a really simple word? haha no but if you stare at a word long enough it starts to look weird. Do you have a passport? What’s the picture like? yes. it’s terrible. Have you ever had a full fringe? (bangs) yes. Is there anything you would never admit to liking? not really. What time did you get up this morning? 11am. pretty late. What’s the weirdest craze you can remember? scoobies. Have you ever been so hot you took a freezing cold shower? yes. i do this all the time in summer. it helps. Do you own a plaid shirt? yes. Do you take your own surveys? no. i don’t make them. Do you have a fan in your room? yes. two haha. Do you use bug spray or fly swatters? both. Do you know where your parents are right now? yes, sleeping. What was the last thing you said outloud? bye. Are you a clumsy person? yes. Can you brush your teeth without getting toothpaste all over your face? yes. i’ve had to learn after doing my makeup then realizing i hadn’t brushed my teeth yet lol. Do you have tiled floors in your house? yes. Do you listen to any movie soundtracks regularly? nope. Do you bruise easily? no. What would you love to learn to do? a language or instrument. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? whatever. Do you think you’d be able to survive on a desert island? probably not. Have you ever watched a foreign film without the subtitles? no lol. actually yeah but i understood the language. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? a bit of both tbh. if the trailer is good i’m keen too. Do you have any phone charms on your mobile? nope. Would you ever meet anyone you met online? probably not. Are you more shy in real life or on the internet? real life. Are you happy with where you’re going in life? not really. ready to make changes but i just need to motivate myself.

[usuallyrics-blog]

Stand Up

New Lyrics has been published on usuallyrics.com https://usuallyrics.com/lyrics/stand-up-2/

Stand Up

[Meek Mill (DJ Khaled):] When you go out, you want an obituary or a documentary? Which one you want Khaled? (I want money) A documentary, right? (I want that too!) We gotta make movies

Bright lights attracted bad bitches And attracted to mad niggas Whoever thought lil’ ol’ Meek Milly’d pass Jigga? I’m just thinkin’ a tad bigger You niggas talk fly, only fly at your last picture And you look like the last pitcher I just hit a home run, on clash with us And this money, murder, power, comin’ for the ass, nigga, ass, niggas Last nigga, there were cemeteries diggin’ grass, nigga The obituary leaves the last scripture Mama said he was a good kid, thinkin’ would kid I signed my deal with my AP on In the drop top with the AC on Stuntin’ with Cash Money, get my Baby on No, never fuck a chick that got Bakers on Or no Michael Kors I’m on the same shit that Mike was on Jordan, Jackson, Tyson on I’ve seen niggas your type twice before I’m in that white velour, look at the flights I bought These mothafuckin’ hoes got a right to raw When a young real nigga light the floor Hundred black bottles, man that’s lights galore Before Tom was Ford, I’m talkin’ Honda Accord Lookin’ for a plug, tryna find the cord Niggas gettin’ shot tryna find the Lord This bust down Rollie say the time is yours I get my grindin’ on Like rude girl in the reggae, it was mayday Started with a water gun until I got an AK Kids in the projects when we was by the bay, bay Kids with the Pyrex, I hit it first, Ray J

When the lights low, and the show starts And the champagne spill on your bow tie And your dawg change up, playin’ both sides No it won’t stop, when the dope stop When the fed rush in the dope spot And your main man tell ’em how the coke drop How he rain danced with me by the boat dock I know when he did that, I bet that your ghost drop I hope that you stand up Young nigga just man up I’m just hopin’ you stand up Young nigga just man up I just hope that you man up and don’t give the fam up I just hope that you man up and don’t give the fam up Real nigga for life

As the rain drop, drop on the pavement I came through my hood Mulsanne’n On the block all night like I ain’t famous I still run with the same niggas I came with Where I came from, when I came in We eatin’ lobster and steak from Top Ramen Oodles n’Oodles, when you’re hungry them killers’ll do you And when you’re gettin’ to that money them people pursue you The Feds lurkin’, the streets watchin’ Them hoes talkin’, like “he got it” And he nervous, cause we plottin’ We call that boy for a burner and we rob him Like Batman, pussy niggas gettin’ backhand Talkin’ to the people you a at man Half rack, we got more ghosts than Pac-Man And for that paper we be grindin’ like a lapdance Get the money young nigga Get the money, never fold, cause they comin’ young nigga When the feds get to rushin’, better not tell on young nigga Don’t be selfish young nigga, just man up, don’t give the fam up Facin’ 20 years when they added them grams up Plus 5 more, he got booked with a handgun And now he in the courtroom, givin’ his mans up Rat ass nigga

When the lights low, and the show starts And the champagne spill on your bow tie And your dawg change up, playin’ both sides No it won’t stop, when the dope stop When the fed rush in the dope spot And your main man tell ’em how the coke drop How he rain danced with me by the boat dock I know when he did that, I bet that your ghost drop I hope that you stand up Young nigga just man up I’m just hopin’ you stand up Young nigga just man up I just hope that you man up and don’t give the fam up I just hope that you man up and don’t give the fam up Real nigga for life

Who is Meek Mill

Robert Rihmeek Williams, famous stage name Meek Mill, is an American rapper. Born in Philadelphia, the artist began his musical career with The Bloodhoundz. In 2008, hip-hop artist T.I. made the first entry.

[lindyhunt]

Meet the Chicks with Kicks, Three Sisters Who’ve Collected Over 6,000 Pairs of Sneakers

View this post on Instagram

One wall of our Nike Air Force 1 closet#nike #nikes#adidas#puma#reebok#igsneakercommunity #igsneakers#sneakerhead#sneakercon#sneakeraddict #kickstagram#kicks #af1#airforce#airforce1

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Oct 17, 2017 at 9:17pm PDT

If the term “sneaker collector” brings to mind sniffling teenage boy hypebeasts,  then you’ll be pleasantly surprised that what may arguably be the largest sneaker collection in the world – over 6,000 pairs –is managed by a trio of three sisters from Boca Raton, Florida whose online avatars are the Powerpuff Girls. Ariana, Dakota, and Dresden Peters took over the collection from their father, who began collecting in the mid-1980s. Their Instagram account has over 100k followers and fans fawn over their basketball court filled with rare sneakers. In the last forty years, the collection has ballooned to over 6,000 pairs, but who knows if that’s an accurate number – the sisters have stopped counting. FASHION spoke with Ariana, 24, and Dakota, 18, from the office of their family-run real estate company, on how sneakers can be a form of art, what it’s like to pursue such a male-dominated hobby, and what their future plans are for the collection.

So how did your dad get into collecting sneakers in the first place?

He started collecting out of a love of sports. He played basketball and wore sneakers as a fashion statement and it spiraled from there. Let’s say there was a pair of Air Force 1s he wanted to wear. He always bought a second pair to store. Then one shoe turned into a thousand. That’s how it goes with our dad usually.

View this post on Instagram

#Flashbackfriday to the first time we ever gave the public a look into our collection (2016) This is only half of it!😱 COMMENT if you think we should do an updated video 😎 ————————— #fashion #nmd #mode #style #fashionista #instafashion #menswear #yeezyseason #watches #outfitoftheday #yeezy #yeezyboost350 #watch #ultraboost #dope #hype #mensfashion #streetwear #sneakerhead #ootd #adidas #sneakers #hypebeast #sneakersaddict #shoes #menstyle #kicks #outfit #yeezyboost

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Jan 19, 2018 at 3:31pm PST

How did he entice you to take over the collection?

Growing up surrounded by sneakers, you grow a love for it yourself. Each week there was a new sneaker. Now [collecting sneakers] is very prevalent but back then he was sort of a rarity. It wasn’t like that back then. There were sneakers all over our house. My dad had a sneaker room because there were so many pairs. It was always an art form to him. So it became a hobby for all of us.

How can sneakers be a form of art?

There’s a lot of history in sneakers. Just as someone would buy a coveted art piece, there are certain coveted sneakers, like the 1985 Air Jordan 1s. That was the first year the Jordans were released, they were really like a revolution to the brand Jordan and the brand Nike. In that sense it is an art form, it’s very expressive. Whether you’re storing the sneakers as a collection, it’s an art form, and also fashion is in and of itself an art form. At SneakerCon and these events we go to, everyone is expressing themselves in different ways. You look at someone and see their sense of self.

View this post on Instagram

We're not allowed to have these YEEZYS in our house so we might be giving them away 🤔 _______________________________ #2018 #nmd #mode #style #happynewyear #instafashion #menswear #yeezyseason #watches #outfitoftheday #yeezy #yeezyboost350 #watch #ultraboost #dope #hype #mensfashion #streetwear #sneakerhead #ootd #adidas #sneakers #hypebeast #sneakersaddict #shoes #menstyle #kicks #outfit #yeezyboost

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Jan 6, 2018 at 5:58pm PST

Can you give me a sense of what you do collect vs. what you don’t collect?

We specialize in rare examples, players editions, promos, samples. What we don’t buy is the hype stuff nowadays. For example, a Yeezy or the Pharrell Human Race Adidas. That’s what’s very popular now. They do a limited release and then the prices skyrocket, even though the box price is $250 or $200. We don’t buy into that stuff because it’s essentially a fake market. We don’t knock it. We appreciate the style. It’s very cool. But it’s not something we collect.

How much money is invested in the collection?

Well we stopped counting at 6,000 pairs. We don’t have an accurate number. But we don’t really look at it like that. We’ve had people offer us insurmountable amounts of money for our collection, but it’s something that we still haven’t explored.

So people have tried to buy the whole collection from you?

When we first started our Instagram account, within a few weeks we had one of the largest collectors reach out to us and immediately say ‘I would love to fly down and buy your whole collection.’ Because he saw we were three girls and he thought we didn’t really know what we have. We get hundreds of people each week writing us, ‘Can I buy this pair? Do you have this pair?’ We’ve never sold a pair and we’re not selling anything until we open up our store, where we’ll put the whole collection for sale.

I was curious if you would eventually donate the collection to a museum, or pass it on in your family. So tell me more about the store you’re going to be opening?

Our main goal is to be able to have a one stop shop where everything you could imagine involving a sneaker would be at our store. If you want to buy sneakers, if you want to clean your sneakers etc. We took our time and purchased a building across from our real estate office. We’re going to have a 24-hour livestream of the store because it is also a museum; there are so many sneakers there that people have never seen before. Also the design of the store is very important to us. We’ve seen so many sneaker stores, we couldn’t even name the amount…

View this post on Instagram

THE CWK CRIB COURT| BTS Of Our @sneakerfreakermag Photo Shoot ——————————————————————————— #TCWK👟 #CWKCRIB #SneakerHead

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Dec 28, 2017 at 9:09am PST

Do you have a favourite sneaker in the collection?

We love our 1982 Air Force One collection because we have the largest collection of that specific shoe in the world. It has so much history. We have the Sex and the City x Nike Presto, which is really cool.

What’s your take on the designer sneakers – like these chunky Balenciaga ones – that have come out recently? Would you ever collect designer sneakers?

We love the designer sneakers, but does it really fit into what we collect? No. But do we love them and wear them? Yes. Streetwear is so cool. We love it when streetwear becomes high fashion.

View this post on Instagram

💥 CWKSUPPLY 💥 ——————————————————————————— Our AS-IS Longsleeve & Anti Hypebeast Tee (Link In Bio) USE CODE “CWK20” FOR OUR SPECIAL NEW YEARS DISCOUNT ——————————————————————————— #TCWK👟 #sneakerhead

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Dec 29, 2017 at 1:22pm PST

What was behind the decision to start your own clothing line, CWK Supply?

We travel to a lot of the sneaker shows and the kids that come to these shows, they want to leave with something. Sometimes you can’t leave with a $700 pair of sneakers so we thought, ‘Why not make some cool t-shirts?” Also, every [sneaker show] booth we saw was run by men so we wanted to have our own booth and figured we should probably sell something. The last two shows, we were the only females to have a booth.

Why you think sneaker culture is so male-dominated?

We don’t really think about it because our real estate business is also male-dominated, so we’re sort of used to it. A lot of women do love sneakers, but they’re just not out in the open about it because it is known to be male-dominated. So many people came up to at the sneaker shows and said, ‘We’re so happy to see girls have their own booth.’ Even a mom told us she wanted her daughters to have a booth and this will make her not as scared because there’s other girls doing it.

Most people are probably shocked when they hear you have 6,000 pair of shoes. What drives you to keep collecting sneakers?

It’s a part of our family. Some families collect coins, cards, stamps. This is something we were brought up with so we have such a passion for it now. It’s become a part of our every day life, we’re creating content around sneakers, sharing our collection. It’s something we can’t imagine not doing.

[dippedanddripped]

Tips from Sneaker Heads on Scoring the Hottest Shoes and Keeping Them Fresh

Experts at Sneaker Con offered strategies for identifying counterfeit shoes, gave advice on how to choose investment sneakers and said what they would be willing to pay for the right kicks ($30,000).

Sneaker Con, a gathering of shoe fanatics founded in 2009, brought 500 vendors and over 19,000 people to the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center in New York late last year. The heart and soul of the event is the trading pit, an area in the back of the 840,000-square-foot center where a crowd of mostly teenage boys was talking and holding up their sneakers, looking forbuyers. The experience was overwhelming, confusing (where are their parents?) and educational.  

But first, some quick tips:

1) Store your sneakers in a dark space, because light can cause yellowing, which devalues your shoes.

2) Become friends with people who work at sneaker shops.

3) Always check details like font and stitching when verifying real versus fake sneakers.

4) Ask your elders for their old clothes and sneakers. Chances are they will eventually come back in style.

5) Wash your insoles for, well, obvious reasons.

Here’s what the sneaker experts had to say for themselves.    

Antonio Linares

Specializes in authentication of product,

@fake_education

What are the things you look for first when authenticating sneakers? Ultimately it always comes down to craftsmanship, detail and the material used. The counterfeit industry is going to get as close as possible to the original materials, but they cut corners and use inferior products. Stitching is usually a big thing to check across the board, whether it is a hoodie or a pair of shoes.

What are some of the biggest differences between real and fake sneakers? A common difference amongst real from fakes is usually on inside size tags of sneakers, as well as on the box labels. The font style is 99.9 percent different, always. On Yeezys, for example, since they are some of the most counterfeited items I see, I look at the stitching; build structure; wherever it says, “boost”; the font style; and the box.

On eBay, some users will post photos of the real shoes, but then send counterfeit ones. How do you know you are not getting scammed? I personally do not use eBay. Why I started @fake_education was by getting scammed on eBay.

What about people with good ratings? Buy from somebody credible, from somebody reputable that has a reputation to uphold. To be 100 percent certain, buy from somewhere that has a return policy. Somewhere that if it gets out that they sold a fake, that it’s going to tarnish the image.

What are the top counterfeit items that you see? Anything made by Adidas: the Yeezys, NMD, Ultraboost. They’re selling off demand as well. For example, a general release NMD or an Ultraboost shoe holds almost no resale value, but that’s some of the most popular replicas on the market, because people are not even thinking that they’re buying a counterfeit. Whereas when it comes to Yeezys, they’re calling every lifeline possible to prove legitimacy. But when you come up to somebody with a pair that’s $180 in store and they’re giving it to you for, let’s say, $150, you just think you’re getting a good deal, right? Little do you know, they bought it for 60 bucks.

Ariana Peters

Co-founder,

the Chicks With Kicks

How do you know when a sneaker will be an investment? Now it’s a lot of hype. Kanye West drops something and all the kids are running, and a month or two months later, the price just drops. We don’t buy into the hype stuff. We buy stuff that held its value over time. We have sneaker patents. We have one-of-a-kind Yeezy samples. We specialize in prototype, samples, vintage, rare samples.

How do you know when something will generate hype? Right now the market is all hype.

So your strategy is that you look for rare and unique sneakers that you know will hold value.  What are some of the rarest pieces you have? 1985 Air Jordan 1s; we have the largest collection. That’s my favorite part of our collection, just because it holds so much history — it’s the first year of the Jordan. We have signed Julius Erving Converse sneakers. We have Yeezy samples, a few different colorways that have never been seen.

How many sneakers do you have in your collection? My sisters and I have over 6,000 pairs, but we stopped counting. Our dad started the collection over 25 years ago, and we took it over about five or six years ago.

What are you looking for when buying sneakers? It depends on the sneaker. Let’s say I were buying a 1985 Air Jordan: I would look at the yellowing, the cracking in the paint. If it’s metallic, that’s a big issue. You can use sneaker-cleaning products, and a lot of issues when it comes to yellowing just happen with age. So if you can get a dead stock pair from, like, ’85 or the ’90s and it has no yellowing, the value is just astronomically more.

Tips for sneaker care? We store our collection in an air-conditioned, no-humidity storage room. If it’s a collection piece, you want to keep it away from a lot of lights — they could yellow it.

Yu Ming Wu

Co-founder, Sneaker Con

What is your favorite sneaker? The Nike Air Max 1. If we have to kind of go down to actual colorway, it would be the 2002 or 2003 Atmos colorway. It has a very safari, fun print to it.

You told me that you’ve waited years to find a pair of shoes. Which ones were they? The Nike Air Max 1s in the Amsterdam colorway. I’ve probably spent now nine or 10 years looking for them. For the longest time, I refused to pay the high prices for them. I broke down this year.

How much? $1,500.

What is the most you would pay for sneakers? Most recently I have been contemplating purchasing the real auto-lacing Nike Air Mags, the “Back to the Future” shoes which were released last year. Today they go for anywhere from $23,000 to about $60,000. I found a pair on eBay for $33,000, and I talked them down to $27,000. If I do get them, that will be the most expensive pair of shoes I will ever purchase in my life. The price of a nice decent car.

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Tips for getting your hands on hard-to-get sneakers? It’s tough. Today I try to be as safe as possible. I use eBay much more rarely. I am involved with the resell shop Stadium Goods here in New York City. I try to buy most of my shoes from there, just because they’re authenticated.

What are some tips for eBay? I generally look at sellers that have excellent feedback on eBay. I always look at people who write their name.

How do you care for your sneakers? I do sometimes use Mylar bags. For people who’ve collected comic books out there, they use Mylar bags to keep them from getting the acid air or whatever it is from boxes. I also sometimes take out the insoles and throw them in with my bleach cycle, or I also use vinegar.  You wash your underwear and your socks, but you’d never wash insoles. Those guys get pretty nasty.

Mubi Ali

Buyer,

Sneakersnstuff

Firstly, how many pairs of sneakers do you have? About 4,500 pairs. I’ve got a storage facility. I’ve been collecting since maybe 1996. So it’s been a long time to accumulate a lot of shoes.

Favorite sneakers? Supreme Dunk High Stars. I just love the whole aesthetic of them. The embossed croc leather, the gold stars. The fact that they brought out three, it was very premium at that time.

How do you know what shoes will be investments later? Trends are moving so quickly nowadays that it’s hard to predict. A pair that you’ve hedged a lot of bets on and think that is going to be very hot, eight months later doesn’t end up being so hot because the kids don’t get into it. But if a brand puts enough money behind something, it’s generally a sure winner. So looking at 2018, we’re hoping that Nike comes back because I’ve had a tough couple of years. And Adidas either maintained or even improves on the previous year.

How can you tell a counterfeit sneaker from a real? There’s lots of telltale signs: the box, the sticker tags, the inside label. If you know that there’s a certain number that comes out of a shoe and someone’s got 15, 20 pairs, you’ve got to think that’s a little bit suspect.

Any tips on getting limited-edition sneakers? You can try to get lucky with a raffle or a queue. Try eBay. Or even like Sneak Con is the best way to get what you want and what you need. The prices might be inflamed, but think of it as an investment piece. If you love it that much, go for it. Why not?

Benjamin Kapelushnik, a.k.a. Benjamin Kickz

Sneaker reseller to athletes and celebrities,

@benjaminkickz

When did you start collecting sneakers? I started as a hobby when I was 13. And my parents just didn’t want to support it at first. So I just had to resell sneakers to make money to buy myself more sneakers.

What are some tips for people trying to get sneakers? You go to events like Sneaker Con and make a bunch of connections, and you just text them. You say, “Yo, how much is this? How much is this?” You just eventually get all of it.

What sneakers are you looking at for 2018? Probably hoping Nike SBs. I know SBs died out a little, but hopefully they come back.  

Tips for authentication? When you over and over look at the same shoe, you can just tell. And there is this Instagram @fake_education. He’s one of my boys, he does it.

What the most you’ve ever paid for sneakers? $14,000 for a sample for myself. It was a sample Air Jordan.  

What are your tips for sneaker drops? It kind of gets hectic at sneaker drops. I used to camp out with my brothers all the time. I used to pay kids $50, $100, but I stopped doing that now.

What about eBay? I used to when I first started out. I used to get clean used shoes on eBay, buy them and clean them up and try to make them look close to new.

Matthew Ting

Senior brand activation manager, Adidas N.Y.C.

What are some of your tips for sneaker care? Occasionally I just use a wipe. It could be a household wipe, a Crep Protect or a Jason Markk wipe. It’s pretty easy to take out the insole, and then I leave it out to air dry.  

How do you know when a sneaker will be an investment? That’s driven by supply and demand. I think kids are hip and know when things are limited, and that’s really the impetus for a reason to buy. Whenever a Yeezy 350 comes out, people know that quantity is quite limited, and that is a driving factor.

What the most you’ve paid for sneakers? I’ve been in the footwear industry so long, I don’t think I have to have paid for sneakers in the last 15 years. It sounds like I’m spoiled, but I’ve been very fortunate to be in this industry where I haven’t had to pay for my own shoes. I pay for shoes for my son.  

What is your son wearing? He’s wearing Jordan 1s. He enjoys mixing them up, so he has one blue and one red. We bought two pairs to accomplish that.

What was you first pair of sneakers? It was a Nike Jordan. I think seventh or eighth grade. My parents were very strict, so it was unheard-of to spend a hundred dollars for sneakers. Between birthday money, Christmas money, Chinese New Year money and rolling up quarters and coins, I scraped up enough money. They took me to New Jersey, because there it was tax-free. We went to some mall and I think I bought it at the Athlete’s Foot over 20 years ago.

Amber Jackson

Vintage clothing store owner,

Flight Vintage

How do you authenticate vintage or new clothing?   I basically study the past. I watch like a lot of old MTV, like rap videos and rock videos. I also do a lot of eBay, so I know what goes for what price and what to buy and what not. There are certain tags to look for, especially with Supreme. There’s a lot of fake Supreme going around. Study the tags. Study details. Stitching is everything, and the color of the shirt. Sometimes an item could be discolored color and it could be fake.

Some tips for people looking for vintage clothing? Go everywhere. Ask your grandma, ask your grandpa, ask your mom, your dad. Bring out that old concert T-shirt. Someone’s got it.

[jonjordanforrealz]

The Chronicles of Elfdom

Last December, I documented my struggles with Hermie the Elf - you know, of the “on a shelf” variety, sure, but more accurately, in my head, eating my brain and in my soul, tormenting from here to eternity. 

This is my story, shared only in hopes that it may help others.

Tread lightly... Vol 1: Narrowly avoided complete disaster after totally forgetting about the little bastard on Night 1, despite having read the special book/instruction manual/elf commandments at bedtime. Oldest boy Kramers through our bedroom door at 0500, announcing that he'd prefer to use our bathroom over his. As I pondered the logic behind this, thinking, "Boy, he's assertive," something felt amiss and within seconds, I realized my worst December nightmares (since exam time during the old teaching days) were already coming true. As Boy 1 finished his business, I sprung into action, anticipating his yearning to find our annual household guest at this ungodly hour, escorting his proactive little ass back to his bedroom. Always (read: sometimes) a step ahead, I waited in the hallway for the inevitable: an attempted rendezvous to join forces with little brother. After that was easily intercepted, it was time for a little psychological warfare. Warding off both emotional sabotage (Boy 1's, "Daddy, I love you") and an honesty play (Boy 2's, "We we were trying to find Hermie but he's tricky") some redirecting was in order. Authoritative Dad speaks! "It's 5:00 am. No one comes to this house unless everyone is sleeping." With that understanding in mind, aided by the musical distractions of the old Epcot Canadian band and, of course, Kidz Bop 27, I hunted down Public Enemy #1 in his top secret hideaway. Tucked away in a Target bag - dead giveaway, right? Duh. - I shoved him into my pocket and moved on to recover the donuts that he brought with him from the North Pole. Breaking kayfabe here, I'd actually purchased these GMO-laden diabetes bombs myself from Dunkin Donuts on the way home last night, on direct orders from the General, but yes, still totally forgot about this whole charade... Does anyone realize how fucking loud a paper bag is at 5:15 am? Donuts on a paper plate and little orphan Hermie's demanding ass still secured in my Florida State sleepy pants, I knew I had very little time to reach the intended destination and disappear into whatever remained of this night. Cat- or zombie-like in my movements (not quite sure which) down went the plate and into a bouquet of flowers leftover from Thanksgiving landed Osama - or whatever his name is. Somehow, now back behind my bedroom door, I'd survived. There would be no more sleeping for our hero this morning. The sweet taste of victory would be the lone reward. Looking ahead to Night 2, it is possible that we may bribe an acquaintance to drop the bomb on Boy 1, letting him know that this is all a bunch of honkybonk, and thus, instantly creating a valuable ally to continue the ruse for Boy 2. It is now clear that the oldest is the mastermind of what will surely be a constant barrage of this sort of subterfuge for the next 24 days. Vol 2:

There will be no threat of disaster tonight. Since yesterday's torment weighed on my mind all day, it would have been nearly impossible to forget my elfly duties this evening. So, there he sits, the little prick. He's made friends with another rather smug trio that has taken up residence in my home (rent-free, I might add.) Yes, nestled snugly between Alvin and Simon, while Theodore's fat ass looks on, in the morning, the kids will find Hermie, appearing to have read the timeless holiday classic, "Santa Comes to Florida" with his rodent buddies. If you haven't read this piece of literature, it's worth at least a passing glance. But I must warn you that it isn't all that accurate. For one, there is no mention of meth or bath salts, even as Santa flies right over Apopka. And two, there isn't a lot of love for Melbourne, which is pretty shameful since such visionaries as Jim Morrison, Darrell Hammond and that guy I went to high school with who ended up in that reality show boy band are among its native sons. Let's not get too sidetracked here. There is still work to be done. I was informed earlier that one of Boy 2's little friends announced that he received a letter from Santa himself this morning, officially putting him on "The Nice List," while, shame on me, all I did was make sure the kids saw the fuckin' elf and got to eat donuts for breakfast., sacrificing sleep, sanity and something else I forgot about because I'm tired and crazy. I guess lil' man used the power of deductive reasoning and, sans Santa letter, convinced himself he was on "The Naughty List," creating a bit of a challenge at bedtime. Dad here, who may or may not have occupied a spot on the unsavory version of the imaginary fat man's lists a time or two over the years, did his best to convince the young buck that he was not on any such document - that things were going just fine - but I'm not sure he bought it. Thanks to utter exhaustion, a self-inflicted derivative of last night's bullshit adventures, sleep came quickly for the littlest Jordan, allowing me time to think of what I might include in the now necessary piece of prose needed to support my earlier claims of his green light toward Christmas presents galore. Ideally, it'd be straightforward: [Hey, kid(s). If you're worried that you might be on the wrong side of Santa's ledger, maybe you weren't as good as you thought you were all year. You ever hear of the NSA? Ever see any of my text messages? Holy shit! Now that's a list you don't want to worry about being on. Anyway... Keep the faith. The truth is, we like you. And you'd probably have to try to stab one or both of us before we'd make sure you didn't get anything at all for Christmas. Love, Dad PS: On Saturday, I want you to sleep until 10 am. Remember: THE LIST!] But traditions are traditions and in this family, as in so many others, we lie like a muthafucka - especially around the holidays! And so, the propaganda continues. Hermie, it will appear, took a break from reading his Florida Santa book to his pals to write a letter to the Jordan kids, detailing how fantastic they've been and urging them to be good listeners and make good choices at least for a few more weeks. (Pretty suspicious - or "ironic," as Alanis Morrisette might deem it - that the stuffed elf, who I think wears makeup, uses the exact same discipline terminology as Mom and Dad do, ain't it? These kids get any smarter any time soon and they'll bust me for sure. And what then?!?) Depending on what time they wake up in the morning, I may have to stage a sacrifice when it comes to the chipmunk population in this home. If we can send positive messages via letters from imaginary people, we can also send negative messages by offing a fake friend or two. And since they haven't seen "Christmas Vacation" just yet, nor do they know for sure that I don't have a Cousin Eddie, they'll have no idea that he stopped eating chipmunks (yeah, yeah, chipmunks and squirrels are different things, I get it) when he found out they were high in cholesterol. Black and white photos should do. I'll use the old Hitchcock chocolate syrup trick. Tomorrow brings the added challenges of that batshit crazy Chick-Fil-A with all the lights, what the food there does to my insides and selecting the 2016 Jordan Family Christmas tree. There will be booze. Two down, 23 to go. Vol 3:

It's clear that my efforts here are drawing something of a crowd, which is much appreciated but not at all the intent. One trusted advisor has even suggested I attempt to profit financially from this record but the truth is simply this: It has to be done. For the betterment of all mankind, our successes and failures with this Johnny-come-lately holiday irritant must be documented. Tonight, I was reminded of a better day that has passed us by. As we decorated our tree, I took some inventory of the many ornaments we've accumulated over the years. Among them, holiday stalwarts like Frosty the Snowman, Santa Claus and The Grinch make their presence known. We also have the typical representation of some of our sports teams (all of whom suck out loud), life milestones ("2006 New Home" is a real joy, since that was two houses, two kids and one lawsuit ago) and the innocence of homemade trinkets featuring the younger versions of Boy 1 and Boy 2, long before they discovered the art of whining. There is also an ornament that is simply a beer glass (right on!) and the disembodied head of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, which I find terrifying. It wasn't so long ago that my biggest holiday concern was making sure that as few of these characters were damaged during tree-trimming time as possible. (Why do they call it "tree-trimming" anyway? When I go to get my hair trimmed, I'm not looking for Akbar the barber to scatter random trinkets about my rapidly-depleting mane.) But as I longed for the days of yore tonight, there it was, right in my face, as if to say, "Not so fast, asshole! The glory days are over, mother fucker!" Hermie - this sonofoabitchofanelf - is also present as an ornament on our tree. Well, shit in my hat. Just as I discovered this mini version of our mini-monster, both boys began to melt down, merely an hour past their regular bedtime, and I was already on my way to a conniption fit myself, three days into the shit and already running out of placement ideas for Elfrey Dahmer. Coincidental timing, my ass! This guy's in my head. Or he's like the alien thing from Stranger Things. If my lights start flickering, I'm setting him on fire and we'll tell the kids he didn't stop, drop or roll because he wasn't a good listener. But at least I'm not in danger of forgetting at the moment. Tomorrow may prove difficult, what with multiple activities involving alcohol already scheduled - after the children's sporting events, as per societal acceptance. I figure if I can make it through a day like that and still move "it" from Point A to Point B, that's a big win for ol' Daddio. His mind powers working on both me and the young'ins tonight jives with my recognizing the cheery-cheeked, red-and-white clad fuzzy thing to be quite clearly a demon in cahoots with Beelzebub himself. So, I've now paired him up with a dragon statue that we have atop our curio cabinet. (Never thought you'd hear me use the term "curio cabinet," did you, old friends? That's right, I'm cultured. Or I've lost all street cred. Not quite sure which distinction to hang onto here.) What's the connection between Hermalerm and the dragon? Well, heroin of course. That's right, kids, the elf didn't just chase the dragon. He caught the damn thing. Which means as I drift off to sleep tonight, I'll be headed for a righteous dream of Hermie sinking through the floor to the sounds of Lou Reed's "Perfect Day," a la Trainspotting. You'll be alright, elf boy, but this one won't be easy. One bucket for urine, one for feces, and one for vomitus. Preparation is key. You're in a new kind of hell for now, fella. See you on the flip. Vol 4:

The voodoo appears to be working. In the last 24 hours, my better half and I have each been caught making mention of "having a talk with Hermie" about this instance of a slight misstep in behavior or that. It's worth pondering what sort of residual effect this may have on the boys (or any kids, really) long-term. Is life truly one observed event after another, with an eye in the sky passing judgment in turn? And let's not get all religious here. I'm seeing this through an Orwellian lens at the moment. If we do slip up, must we live in fear of being told on? I should get out more... Speaking of, having been out quite a bit yesterday, bailing on my "move the elf" responsibility was a distinct possibility but it did not come to pass. Late at night, headache looming, our favorite holiday hobo was relocated from the dragon's back to a high perch overlooking the entrance to Boy 1's room. It's a creepy spot for sure. Like, if you were to walk out of your bedroom and find a person situated the way Hermie is at the moment, laying on his belly, chin resting on his hands, smiling like a whackjob, cheeks as rosy as ever, you'd definitely call the cops. Or shoot him. Or both. The creative maneuvers are lacking for yours truly this year - although I guess mounting the dragon was pretty cool. That's ok, though. My goal is simply to survive this month with as few mid-sleep panic attacks as possible. Started off 1-for-1 but we have a clean slate since, so I'll call it a win so far. Perhaps tonight, we'll set the elf up with a lady or something - freak Carrie out a little, if nothing else. The boys have been warned - née, reminded - that no one is supposed to be up and moving about until at least 7 am in this house (great rule, hardly ever followed) and they seem pretty beat from a long weekend so there might be hope for a more restful slumber. If not, maybe it's time for the elf to get shelved for a day or two, go visit Santa (or Satan?) or something. That'll get these tired kids back on track. Tired kids are like drunk adults, by the way. But that's a story for a different setting. 21 days to go. Zeus help me. Vol 5:

There has been no shortage of remarkable moments in our adventures with the red devil of late. Boy 1, in an apparent attempt to extort his elf friend, left him a tangerine on Monday, after finding him purportedly reading through one of Mom's cupcake cookbooks. Perhaps he was being proactive, in the event that the elf delivers cupcakes as he did donuts on opening day of this annual charade. A simple, "Hey, man. I gave you a tangerine. Whatchyougot for me?" Or maybe he's overheard dear ol' Dad opine on the corruption of politics, in general. Either way, Boy 2 was not pleased. The littlest Jordan, you see, has developed an affinity for these tangerines and while he is almost always quite willing to share his snacks, such was not the case here, as he relocated Boy 1's offering back to its original box. This incensed the elder sibling and the back-and-forth game from tangerine box to offering table began. I should note that the boys are still suffering from Christmasitis - the plague that renders otherwise lovable little humans into demon beings, drunk on exhaustion, impulsive and exhibiting a bravado unbecoming of their age or social status. Now off to school, Mom stepped in with a solution, staging a scene where the elf appeared to have eaten the tangerine in question, abandoning his cookbook perch in favor of a seated position at a makeshift snack area and leaving scraps behind, along with a note that read, "Thanks for the tangerine! I'll only eat one!" (It is also likely that a smiley face was included but I cannot confirm with any certainty, having destroyed this document, and thus, in the name of accuracy and out of respect for journalism, it is omitted here.) This was, largely, an intelligent counter tactic by my female counterpart and while its intended result - assuaging the pending civil war betwixt brothers with a reasonable compromise - was achieved, ultimately, the strategy lacked the necessary foresight to continue the mind games without needling questions from the youngsters. Of utmost importance: "Wait... You moved him?" Crickets. "No, kid," I thought to myself - but dared not say aloud. "He moved himself, of course!" But, of course, this was not supposed to be a part of the pestilent pixie's skillset! For his meandering about is only supposed to take place at night, according to the owner's manual! Far be it from Mom to not have her next move planned, however, and as I stood stock still, considering a swift exit strategy (were the neighbors home? Could a friend pick me up? Where is my rocketpack?) as if beamed in by the projector of Orson Welles himself, the holiday classic "Home Alone" was suddenly on the living room television and Mom's invite for cuddle time was accepted by both young Jordans. Crisis averted, once more. In the time since, the attitudes of drunken demon children 1 and 2 have worsened. Boy 1 resisted piano practice and was not permitted to walk the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights in turn, then admittedly plotted revenge on yours truly, attempting to stave off bedtime as long as possible by prancing about the house, giggling and speaking in tongues. And Boy 2 ignored my orders to disarm, wielding his light saber freely about the living room as though I wasn't even there. With Mom on a run (and not 100% sure she was coming back) I engaged hand-to-hand, demilitarizing my target and receiving his "Mad Dog" glare for my troubles. In fairness, Boy 2 pulled it together enough to join me on the aforementioned Christmas walk, where he graciously educated me on the difference between frogs and what he calls "toadfrogs," (apparently this has everything to do with their tongues - who knew?) and I shared with him my disdain for projector lights. Nonetheless, the net result of Sunday/Monday called for a sabbatical for the nefarious imp creature, who has, as far as the boys know, "gone to visit Santa for a day or two," according to my - no, his! - note. Improvements are expected in short order but just in case, the vodka supply has been restocked. I now count 19 days, which looks far less daunting than 20. Still, my sleep pattern has been erratic. We'll call that 20% problem drinking, 60% guilt from blatantly lying to one's offspring and 20% New York Jets football. With apologies to my parents and, more importantly, to Mark Twain, I haven't told the truth, out of necessity, thanks to you-know-who, and now I can't remember anything.

Vol 6:

Tensions have subsided. The elf was brought back after the exhibition of acceptable behavior on the part of both boys on Tuesday night. 1 did a fine job at his school Christmas concert, while 2 gave a great effort at soccer practice. (It is also important to note that Dad scored a goal in an impromptu coaches/kids mixed scrimmage. That this feat was accomplished against 6- and 7-year-olds matters not.) More importantly, bedtime was without incident on the evening in question. Why that is ever an issue is still beyond me but never has a more relatable tale been told than that of "Go the Fuck to Sleep," by Samuel L. Jackson a few years back. (Well, maybe it isn't exactly the written work of Jules Winnfield himself but I'd like to think it is, as no one could possibly ever recite it better.) Boy 1 is a fan of the every-excuse-in-the-book technique (from pooping to asking questions to feigning injury to everyone taking turns laying with him, telling stories, needing water, etc.) while Boy 2 is more straightforward with his thoughts on sleep overall. Namely, he says he never sleeps. He just relaxes. While I know this isn't completely true, having witnessed him sleeping myself on thousands of occasions, there is something a little vampiresque about the littlest Jordan, who is almost always the first to arise in the morning, often long before the sun. Today, in fact, I awoke to a noise and thinking it was either intruders (that I would have to exterminate, obviously) or my youngest son dicking around (slightly more likely) I promptly began a seek-and-destroy (or G the F to S) mission. The latter scenario proved to be reality, as there he sat, hiding behind his bathroom door, sitting on the floor with the light on, cuddling with his blanket. I don't know either, people, but hey... We all have hobbies... The return of Hellboy Hermie, fresh from his visit with Santa, Satan or Sam Kinison - can't recall which and perhaps it was all - featured him choking out one of the boys' forgotten bath toys, a gator. In this house, that visual brings more joy than the hair of the dog cure-all on a Jordan Family Christmas morning. (Well, almost.) As we enjoy this new era of peace, recognizing that it may be a brief interlude, I'm appreciative of the pause its given me, for the war against the imaginary (?) black magic of this shitbag of a Christmas toy is rather taxing. 17 days. #tylenol Vol 7:

This tradition begets strange bedfellows. Hermie the Elf, who is destined to be renamed Beelzebub, I assure you, commandeered a ship belonging to Jake and the Neverland Pirates last night, along with John Cena and Sleepy (of Seven Dwarfs fame.) Oh, if this were only real, what an adventure they may have had overnight. Sleepy, groggy to the point of hallucination, no doubt, likely from a mixture of NyQuil, booze and some medicinal herb (since we can do that here now!) wouldn’t have been much help to his shipmates. The elf, in his Luciferian glory, perched atop the crow’s nest, would attempt to serve as captain, I would think, causing immediate conflict with Cena, the jorts-wearing, self-important hero, who nobody above the age of 12 really likes. (I’m told he was actually at a local bar I’ve been to a time or 200 a couple of weeks ago. Think I could take him?) They’d square off at some point to determine the alpha male and I’d have to give that decision to the only being on this ship with supernatural, other-worldly powers. “You can’t see me,” John? Well, that’s fine. Hermie doesn’t need to see you to breathe demon fire into your soul. And they'd land at their final destination knowing that the little red-faced asshole with the pointy hat was absolutely in charge. The destination was our TV stand, by the way, because I didn't feel like thinking anymore - or leaving the ship somewhere it might easily fall, ruining everything for everyone. (Or saving them?) The children seemed to approve of this newly established faction, upon this morning's discovery, and I suppose that’s what it’s all about. Unfortunately, it’s also proven to be all about my own sick mind, full of delusions and unfulfilled desires belonging to my inner child. Back in my day, all we had was the mystique of Santa Claus himself – and thanks to friends, Sean and Tina, that gig was up for me at around eight. (Eight! That’s Boy 1’s age now. Well, balls... Getting old indeed.) I believe the big reveal upset me for a few minutes but already conditioned toward materialism (thanks, America!) I reasoned that, hell, I’d still be getting presents, so I don’t think I really cared whether they came from Mom, Dad, Uncle Charlie (who I’m pretty sure once stole a trampoline before gifting it to me) or an old, fat stranger in a furry red suit who likes to have little children sit in his lap. I was skeptical – maybe my friends lied to me. After all, this was the same brother/sister combo that once had me convinced that the oil I spotted floating atop the drink they’d made for me was perfectly normal for “Swedish chocolate milk.” (Looking back, the accompanying smell of vinegar should have been a dead giveaway. Tasted like shit but I’m sure it built character. Appreciate that, S&T!) But alas, as I gave my dad a goodnight hug on Christmas Eve, 1987, there sat the Nintendo I’d be receiving the next morning, in his closet behind him. When I found it, unwrapped, as was Santa’s style, at the foot of the tree, the bullshit meter exploded but I wouldn’t let it get me down. Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out and Super Mario Brothers (and Duck Hunt, if only so we'd all learn about tagalongs at an early age) awaited! I was smart enough to know that I didn’t want to deal with upsetting my mom so I didn’t let on that I knew that Santa was Keyzer Soze (or Verbal Kint? Sometimes my metaphors don’t work.) I think I hid that from her for at least two years. Point is, I guess I fear these kids of mine finding out we’re all the masterminds behind some pretty serious fabrications. What sort of example does that set? But mostly, it’s about the growing-up-too-fast thing. I mean, fuck. I’m 37, somehow. Oh and the other point is, how did we allow this elf thing to get so popular? We had friggin' Santa already! And wasn’t one lie enough? I’m tired. 16 days.

Vol 8:

Turnabout is fair play. Boy 2 had something of a rough day yesterday, although not in the sense that his behavior was unacceptable. With the added pressure of a snitch like the elf-demon watching over you at all times, I'm sure being a 6-year-old isn't as easy as it could be at this time of year so, when the boy wonder seemed exceptionally emotional, I should have known to chalk it up to just that. After eight straight days of "being on 'Good Citizen'" at school, the littlest Jordan was proud to announce that he had recorded No. 9 in a row. How about that? My own little Cal Ripken-type thing. But after dinner, the tiny tough guy started showing his sensitive side (a trait shared by his father - but don't tell anyone.) Seeking either a goalkeeper for his soccer game, an opponent in marbles or a playmate of any sort, he solicited the services of all of Boy 1, myself and the lady of the house, though we all politely declined, citing a collective desire to relax and/or consume the programming of WWE Network before bedtime. (The latter, of course, forced upon Mrs. Jordan, although I think she enjoys it at least a little, though she would never, ever admit as much.) His emotions played out with faulty reasoning - "No one likes me!" - and harsh accusations - "I don't have a nice family!" and "Nobody is being my friend!" My explanation was simple; that declining an invitation to any particular activity does not automatically disqualify one from being another's friend, since free will is an important quality and, if I asked a friend of mine to eat dog poop with me, their lack of participation would not stand in the way of my assessment of their loyalty toward me. But Boy 2 was not having any of this and in a brief fit of rage, he roared at me, "You better watch your attitude, Mister, or I'm telling Hermie!" Oh, did I laugh! But he did not appreciate that either and retired to his room. Confession time came quickly. As I laid with him to coax him to sleep - the sleep that, remember, he swears he never gets in favor of only "relaxing" - he exclaimed, "I'm a bad boy!" and began crying immediately. At first, he would not tell me why he had come to this conclusion but after some leveling with him in the form of a promise not to get mad, he told me he had lied and that he had not, in fact, achieved a ninth straight day of school-bestowed "good citizenship." Instead, he was stuck on "Ready to Learn," which is quite fine in this house, although anything less will need to be addressed. I blamed the elf. For the boy was convinced that he needed to be stellar each and every day without fail, whereas on most days, outside of this window of watching from on high (and by on high, I mean somewhere high enough so as not to tempt the "illegal" touching) he, like his father, would be just fine in the realm of acceptable mediocrity. Never again will I utter the words, "I'm telling Hermie." At this point, 1) I hate the name. The kids named him, after that failure of an elf from the original Rudolph special, now a dentist, or so we're told. (Probably one of those creepy dentists, I'd say. You know, the kind that gasses his female patients and plays peekaboo and stuff?) 2) The kids know the (completely fabricated) score. I will not add to this charade more than I already have. And I will not go gentle into this good night. The company Christmas party awaits and I've got some tomfoolery in which to partake. Still tired. 15 days.

Vol 9 and 10:

They sell both volumes of Kill Bill together now, as I understand it, so I’m allowed to drop a double dose of Elfdom if I want to. (This will be of no additional length, mind you, but we’ll call it two volumes nonetheless.) The uptick in emotion from Friday still fresh in my mind, the idea this weekend was to restore the spirits of Boy 1 and Boy 2 (and mostly the latter) and the elf, for all his faults, appears to be adept at aiding that, so long as the pressure he brings is tempered. I’d like to think that the littlest Jordan is less concerned, having had some weekend time, about trying to be “Good Citizen” levels of perfect than he was during our last volume. Saturday morning, Elfenstein, which is one of many names I am considering for a possible rebranding, took a ringside seat next to Boy 1’s toy wrestling ring, watching what was staged as a battle royal between all of his favorite toy wrestlers. Adorning the garb of a particular favorite, Samoa Joe, along with the NXT championship belt, he sat, smiling his usual satanic smile, as if to say that he was some sort of champion himself. You are not, sir, by any stretch. Let me make that clear. But, they enjoy your company, again, despite your many shortcomings. The wrestling set-up reminded me, however, that I would enjoy squaring off against you, were you of an acceptable size to do so, and perhaps if I can find someone of a similar appearance in human form, elbows will drop (and he shall fall.) Of course, then, I’d likely be arrested and/or sued but hey, that’s the cost of doing business, I suppose. This scene, like so many others featuring you-know-who, turned out to be less than perfect, largely because I set him up too low to the ground to be completely ignored or out-of-reach, but this turned out to be a positive step for the children, who resisted the temptation to move him themselves and asked for assistance when he flopped over at one point. Boy 1 wanted the championship belt the evil elf had been wearing, you see, and I was happy to strip it from him, since he did not deserve such an accolade by any means. Boy 2, it should be noted, held back his elfly interactions on Saturday. Maybe he was trying to determine just how emotionally invested in this thing he really should be. Saturday evening brought forth the annual company Christmas party and since the lady and I do not often stay out past 11 pm, let alone 2 am, anymore, it is no wonder that the Hermie the Hack almost did not get moved that night. Of course, I had every intention, and though my return home (thanks, Uber!) involved a certain level of whiskey breath as I spoke directly with my mother-in-law about plans for said move, in the fleeting seconds following that conversation, I forgot completely, probably focused on the pillows calling my name just a few feet away. Ever-clutch, Gran chipped in and relocated the impetuous imp, placing his (fake) happy little ass in the middle of a wreath on the door to the laundry room. Last night, as I stared at him, I honestly thought to myself, “You know, elf, you look like a real asshole sitting there smiling at me with your hands folded. I’d like to spear you with one of the skewers I use to make kebobs from time to time. Or drop you into a vat of bleach. Or something... Keep looking at me like that! Go ahead!” He was just lucky that there was no whiskey for a second consecutive evening. Of course, there can be no whiskey on consecutive evenings for yours truly anymore. Such is the penance that comes with age. Well, that and a vile attitude toward all things festive, it seems. Or at least all things purportedly festive that are nothing more than some sort of fabric, a little plastic and stuffed with cotton (or is it demon fiber?) 13 days. Unlucky 13, the elf might say, but we’ll see how lucky he is when I practice punting him later on today...

Vol 11:

The easy way seems like the right move at the moment. From one stocking (with Spider-Man) to another (with Ultron) - specifically recognizing each boy's individual preference for good guys vs. bad guys, we've killed two days and two potentially grief-inducing moments. But hark! There are three more stockings! That could very well be three more days. Lady Jordan would love to see the imp intruder in her stocking, along with, say, vodka? Yeah, she likes vodka. And Superdog would dig it if he were to show up in hers next to, ah yes! Something she always begs me for - leftover pizza! Perfect! As for me, well, this isn't really about me but if I'm to tend to this shithead as much as I do, why not treat myself and set the stage for him to gift me some Johnny Walker Blue? Mmmmm. We're already down to 12 days and if I can pull this off, we're into the single digits with plenty of creativity left in the reserve tank. Note to self: Boy 1 is looking more and more suspicious by the day. He is wise indeed. Perhaps it is time to distract him with fear and confusion. Would he believe the Russians hacked his elementary school, forcing an uptick in homework? That seems to be a popular play these days and it just might work. Operation: Borscht shall commence in the am. And looky, looky! It's now midnight! 11 days, just like that! We can do this. Ohhhhh, yes. We shall overcome.

Vol 12:

Rats once spread the Bubonic Plague. Prince Prospero's hubris allowed the Red Death to infiltrate his castellated abbeys, according to E.A. Poe. And I say these little elves carry their own special pandemic - a yuletide malady that flips the universe onto its head and turns otherwise relatively well-behaved children into distracted, exhausted malcontents, spewing tidings of discomfort and misery on adults the world over. It makes no sense. At a time when conventional wisdom would dictate that they walk the straight and narrow like never before, the little ones have truly gone mad. Under the watchful eye of the hellion in the red hat, I always expect that Boy 1 and Boy 2 would adopt model citizenship - and for small spurts, they do. For instance, Boy 1's cleaning dog poop from the backyard last Sunday was completely out of character and Boy 2's strong run of eight consecutive "good citizen" statuses (already chronicled in a previous volume, as well as his subsequent fall from grace) was quite a feat! (Suddenly, I'm reminded that I did not ask for details on the dog doo cleaning duty - nor can I say for sure if they showered that night... Nonetheless, the past is the past.) But these exceptions have not become the rule. instead... It took 47 utterances of the elder Jordan child's name tonight just to get him to come to the table to do his homework, when normally, it would only take 3-5. And that was just the beginning of the battle. "Math with Mom" may sound like a fun game show of sorts but in reality, it's quite torturous. Eating dinner in short order once that was finally complete, a necessary rush on an evening when baseball practice beckons, drew moans and whines and pouts and eventually, claims of complete disinterest in our national pastime - a sin, certainly, but more importantly, a lie, as proven instantly upon arriving at the field, where free-spirited fun commenced. (I noticed there, too, that it is not just my own children who have figuratively tooted the Christmas cocaine of late. Everyone's offspring is mental at the moment, it appears. We're all in this together, people.) As for Boy 2, well, that run of eight straight school days by which he was judged all chivalrous and what not has been followed by quite the struggle. Warnings and consequences and nastygrams from the teacher are the new trend. (Note to Teacher: I feel ya, girl. I mean, I ain't never did kindergarten and shit but I did teach at muthafuckin' Hillsborough High School for a hot minute. And you trippin' if you think students clownin' in December is only for the jits. Teenage fools be whack AF.) But we have reached the magic number of 10 and with that, I see the light. Alas, I am stupid enough to crank this sonofabitch waaaaaaaaaay past 10 on the Holly-Jolly-Christmas-o-Meter tomorrow night, as we venture to what some might call the happiest place on Earth (whereas I call it, "Whythehellcan'twedrinkhereagainland") for Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party. We'll see how very merry it is this time, kids. Just keep up the shenanigans and maybe I'll tell you the story of the crazy Christmas kid who got left with the elephants on the Jungle Cruise back in 1984. Look for him, Reggie, I think... Yeah, he's in there, somewhere. Keep looking... Ah, but that's tomorrow night... Tonight, I'll resist the urge to send the elf into the garbage can, no matter how easy to pull off the narrative of "Hey, kids. Yeah, sorry... He must have really wanted that last piece of chocolate," might be. Single digits are afoot!

Vol 13:

As if Christmas madness wasn't already enough to make even the most level-headed parents consider sending their normally well-adjusted children to some sort of juvenile rehab, we went and introduced the idea of this all-powerful elf and sent things into hyperdrive. And then you have idiots like myself, who facilitate the special kind of speedball that is Christmas and Disney World to launch the youngsters into a stratosphere of holiday intoxication that would appeal to Belushi- and Farley-types the world over. I've spent enough time at the House of Mouse in the last seven years or so to know that on any random Tuesday, you can do some serious people-watching but on a designated Friday night in December, at something they jam down your throat as a "Very Merry" Christmas party, young bucks and grandmas alike are off the rails right from the jump. It's marketing, I get it, but shouldn't it be up to me to decide how to describe the levels of joy and/or merriment I get from a party to which I'm invited (and certainly one I've paid for?) I'm not going to throw a pool party in a couple of months, invite a bunch of you people, and call it "Jon's Super Enjoyable and Relaxing Pool Party." I might assist in the temporary adjustments of your dopamine and serotonin levels as best I can but I'll leave it up to you to determine what sort of accolades you bestow upon my event. Anyway, free from the eyes of the elf (theoretically, anyway) the children were a bit wild on the journey to WDW but I've found that any car ride longer than 20 minutes or so has the potential to become the clearest manifestation of their best friends/worst enemies style of relationship at this phase of their lives. One minute, they're sharing books and the next, someone's finger is in someone else's eye. I tried my best to sing Christmas songs to myself (no, really, I do try to get into it here and there) but my soul-soothing would have to come in the form of a bunch of junk food at the park and a ride or two. The kids had free reign to try and off each other in the interim. As evenings go, one could really do far worse, honestly. As I've said a million times, it would be tremendous if adults could wander around the Magic Kingdom with a beer but I get it. It's a kids' park. And I suppose that isn't appropriate EVERYWHERE, after all. Plus, there are fleeting moments on these nights that we just aren't going to get anywhere else - like Boy 2 cuddling with his mom or Boy 1 beaming from the front row of a parade route or both of them, giggling with laughter (and maybe a little hint of fear) as we whirl around on some roller coaster or other. Those are sights and sounds I'm tattooing into my brain for sure. But by the time it's all over, we have reached full-fledged juvenile Christmas drunkenness, where, just like your overserved adult friend, conversations ramble on making very little sense, emotions are high and the expression of as much can go from "I love yous" to crying in an instant. There is slurring, overindulgence on late night snacks and then, ultimately, they just pass out. And while one big difference between your friend, Drunky the Bear, and your overtired, cranky Christmas kid is that you usually don't have to worry about the latter throwing up, another is that you can't just leave them where they fall out. So, in my case, you're forced to scoop and carry the now 70-ish pound, increasingly long 8-year-old for miles into boats and trams and finally to the car. While waiting for said tram, I surveyed my surrounding area and confirmed my suspicions that, yes, out of the 500 or so people I could see in my immediate vicinity, Boy 1 was definitely the biggest human sleeping in another human’s arms at that point. But again... Special moments, I suppose, if I'm being honest. (And honestly, between that and multiple shoulder hoistings throughout the evening, holy shit is my back messed up! Thanks again, lady who rear-ended me a few years back to kickstart that now-lifelong pleasantry.) As for the elf, the vile, heinous, intrusive being that he is, he's joined forces with an Angry Bird and Sven from Frozen, and has taken up residence in the boys' bathroom - which is definitely a little weird and creepy, now that I re-think my most recent placement strategy but hey, can't touch him again until tomorrow now. And besides, weird and creepy suits him just fine. ONE WEEK.

Vol 14:

Creativity has ceased. There are no more ideas. The focus has shifted, solely, to survival. Christmas intoxication has run amok and both children are perpetually drunk in turn. I have not yet found the proper means to detox them, although I believe, once that bag of chocolate-covered pretzels was stolen and consumed, only time was to be my ally. Boy 2 turned emotional once more last night, expressing his desire to "go home." Since he was sitting in his bed as he proclaimed this, a deeper inquiry revealed that he wanted to go back to our old house, which we left roughly 18 months ago, because he missed his friends. Total bullhonk, of course, since he couldn't identify a single "friend" by name, other than the old neighbor's dog, aptly named Jordan, which weakens his argument even further. Boy 1 arose at 6 am today, reportedly uttering some nonsense about starting a band. (I cannot confirm this directly, as I was in the midst of a dream starring myself, Wolf Blitzer and Jennifer Lawrence, all scouring the planet for "the lost relics." But the reporting of my wife person is to be trusted, more often than not.) His level of Yuletide inebriation has manifested itself in a phenomenon known as "Low Eyes Syndrome" and whether you choose to admit it or not, you've all been there. Just look through photos in which you've been tagged by others - specifically anything after midnight, at weddings or taken by your most obnoxious friends. On the positive side, we've reached the 5-day mark and are just two days shy of relocating this clan to the other coast, where the grandparent folks can assist in keeping us all alive. The inherent danger of said grandparent folks inadvertently contributing to Christmas chaos matters not, for there is strength in numbers and reinforcements at this point are sorely needed. The elf is spooning with a San Francisco 49ers Christmas ornament today and I think I will say no more to that end. "Take a look around here, Ellen. We're at the threshold of hell!" - Clark W. Griswold, Jr.

Vol 15:

The day is nigh. The elf has been bagged in preparation for the cross-state trek. Part of me wanted that to happen legit abduction-style - little potato sack thrown over his head, a swat of a tiny baseball bat to the dome... A garrote, probably, would have been overkill but I wouldn't have ruled it out. Anyway, he's MIA - and of course, that means we'll have to lie to the children once more as to why he's disappeared. "I don't know, kids. I walked around the corner and he just wasn't there anymore!" Then, tomorrow morning when he shows up at La Casa de Jordan 1.0, I'll be ogling Boy 1 to see if there is any further hint of suspicion in his eye. Surely, Boy 2 will wake up some time between 3 and 5 am tomorrow as the excitement percolates. (I will not.) There will be no attempts to peer deeply into his eyes, mostly out of fear that they've turned black by now, undoubtedly the evildoing of you-know-who. The good news is that I believe all is reparable, once he is gone for good - or at least until next year. In my experience, Christmasitis usually takes a couple of weeks to fade away and then some semblance of normalcy returns. This year, I'm hoping that comes with a newfound affinity for sleeping in. I was never very good at that as a young kid and didn't master it until college, really - an achievement aided at that time by, well, let's just call them PEDs. But I know it is possible for even an 8-year-old to sleep until 9, 10 or 11, even, because I saw my pal Jeremy do it with my own eyes. Sleeping over at his house was great the night before amidst our usual hijinks but I could only describe the following mornings as, uh, educational, as in I seized the opportunity to read every single book on his bookshelf and watch every movie he owned, killing time until he finally woke up. (What the hell were my parents doing anyway, that they couldn't pick me up early, as I often asked? Actually... Don't answer that.) So, again, the hope is that Boy 1 takes after Uncle Berm and learns to hibernate (at least a little.) There is no hope for the other one to that end. He continues to remind us that he never sleeps and only relaxes. "Sometimes," he says, "I don't mean to but I accidentally go to sleep automatically." Clearly, he isn't to be trusted with this intentionally perplexing narrative of his but I believe he has convinced himself that it is all true. That, in and of itself, surely leads to the unique circadian rhythm he's adopted. He sure is cute, though. I imagine that'll keep earning him a pass, no matter how many times he fires a soccer ball directly into my nether regions. Perhaps only one or two more entries into these chronicles shall be necessary from this point forward. I should say that I'm pleased with the response so far, as it seems most of the free world can relate in one way or another, but the goal from the beginning was simply to document the daily deeds of our ignominious, inanimate, annual invader and their impact on our everyday lives. Plus, if I should meet my demise during his stay, surely this will aid law enforcement officials. As far as that goes, one only needs to buy one vowel to solve this puzzle, and that is the "E" to kick off "E.L.F." You see, although we are still in the pre-Christmas phase of my intensive study, I have learned enough to commit to the conclusion that it is indeed an acronym, standing for Evil Little Fucker, as some of you may have already ascertained. It is but one piece but a vital one indeed. I've got you now, you hellion. It is only a matter of time. Deportation is but three days away!

Vol 16:

He is everywhere and he takes on many forms. The shape-shifting shithead has obviously meandered about my home for weeks but also invaded my tree, in the form of a Christmas ornament, and now, as I've taken up temporary residence at my parents' house, he is present as a children's nightlight in the bathroom, staring, peering, judging as people partake in their most private and personal moments. He truly is a sick sonofabitch. He is also in my brain at this point, as evidenced by the masterful mindfuck he pulled on me on Thursday evening. I am a man of many talents but perhaps my most important task as the husband, father and clearly established second-in-command of our family is to handle all packing duties for out-of-town adventures. At Christmastime, this can get tricky, what with an overabundance of presents to account for, in addition to our regular haul. But, always up to the challenge, I gathered up all of the important items and successfully played the game of Tetris that is fitting all of them into the dadmobile, née Honda Pilot. All of them, you see, except for my own suitcase, left perfectly packed and wide open on my bedroom floor, only to be revealed at the most impactful moment from a psychological perspective, as we crossed the Brevard County line, all according to "Its" diabolical plan. I have no clothes. I have no toiletries. As a broken man at this point, I also have no soul. And now I seek redemption. A Christmas angel has aided my efforts to thwart this hostile takeover and my suitcase has been successfully recovered, here, two days later, so brushing my teeth and replacing the loin cloth I've adopted in the interim is but hours away. But the damage has been done. The little fucker has clearly won a round. His reign of terror ends for the season after tomorrow but does that give me time to recover my soul before he is banished once more? Clearly, his excommunication is more important than my return to human form so if sacrifice is required, I must remain committed to the cause. In the event of Christmas catastrophe, I offer warmest regards and eternal gratitude to all that have followed these chronicles. As I forge forward, know that I am acting not on my own behalf but for all that is good in this world. The final showdown is nearly upon us and with any luck - and the guidance of Lord Zeus, Ra the sun god, sweet baby Jesus, John Cougar, John Deere and John 3:16 - when it's all said and done, I aim to look the elf straight in the eye and tell him what a cheap, lying, no good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is! Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?

Vol 17:

It is all over. Since I am writing this, it needs not be clarified that the side of righteousness prevailed in the end but this was not always a foregone conclusion. The red devil was a formidable foe and I can say with near-certainty that we will do battle at least once more, as Boy 1 and Boy 2 will probably still be buying what he's selling. It cannot go undocumented that Hermie took one last pound of flesh as he exited, to the tune of me waking up in a panic at 5 am to remove him from sight and complete this festive ruse. Just as he had on Day 1 this year, he ruined my slumber and that cheeky little smile stretched ever so slightly. It did feel good, under the cover of darkness, to jam the little prick into my suitcase pocket and zip it up. I hope it's hot in your own personal hell, you heathen. And now, we pick up the pieces. I am in need of repair, inside and out. Tired, tattered, full of torment... But mostly tired. Is there no vacation from Christmas vacation? It's become clear to me that, despite my ultimate victory, this experience will haunt me for years to come. And in ensuing years, likely, it will be worse. So, when is a win actually a loss? Perhaps it is now. Perhaps it is more than just a pound of flesh the evil elf has taken with him. There is, it turns out, slight discomfort in my liver area, you see. That's either from the traditional holiday excess or, if you believe the ancient Navajo legend, that's where the soul is located and clearly, mine is gone. Back to our happy little lives? Sure - I can play that game. It is a beautiful existence. But he has broken me indeed. "And Darkness and Decay and The Red Death held illimitable dominion over all."

[josephkitchen0]

50+ Surprising Chicken Nesting Box Ideas

New flock owners are always on the hunt for creative chicken nesting box ideas, so we asked our Backyard Poultry readers to share their suggestions, pictures, and advice! Take a look at these fun and original nesting boxes, upcycled from items around the house and farm or purchased on the cheap. Who knew you could get so much life out of Home Depot buckets, milk crates, kitty litter containers and even mailboxes! Plus, don’t miss these tips on the best bedding for chickens to make sure your bedding options are safe and comfortable.

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• BELOW: Our newest nest box … the girls love it. — Jennie Adeski Jones

• BELOW: Our nesting boxes, our small barn. — Jodi Vaske

• BELOW: I use a nesting trough so no one fights over the same box … if there’s a favorite spot then they have the option of laying next to the current user if they can’t wait their turn.  — Veronica Roberts

• Plastic potato bins. I stacked four of them. Have nine hens. They just use the bottom one. — Andrew Phillippi

• Milk crates. — Nick French

• BELOW: An old cupboard. — Fawn Stammen

• BELOW: Five-gallon buckets with a 2×4 across the bottom of the open end. — John Mueller

• BELOW: Plastic baskets. They’re so much easier to clean. — Julie Raine

• BELOW: Plastic Home Depot buckets. Hubby made a wooden stand and they slide in and out for cleaning. — Lisa Adams

• My husband and I use old plastic totes upside down with a hole cut in them so the can get in and out. — Heather Preston

• BELOW: I got this from a young couple that makes and sells them for extra cash. I am still looking for license plates to cover the rest of the top and sides, and curtains are next on my list. — Jennifer Shcaer Jackson

• They don’t use them. So basically an uncovered cubby, they all lay in the same cubby too. — James Vriana Beaulieu

• One coop I have 5-gallon buckets and we use straw/hay in them and the other coop we have dish pans with pine shavings in them. We made free-standing shelves with steep roofs so no one nest on/in them. — Jennifer Thompson

• Wood wine boxes. — Kelley Jane Kloub

• BELOW: We modified wooden crates, that are lined with a thick plastic mat and straw. The chicken love these boxes and often want to sleep in them. I had to put something over them because the chickens would roost on the sides and poop in them. But these have worked for well over a year. The burlap shades shake off easily and dry easily when sprayed off. — Amanda Currey

• I made boxes from plywood and use straw for bedding . — Mark Pieklik

• BELOW — Amey Walker McDow

• In our coop and outside hut we actually use a square shoe organizer cubby we bought at Menards. In the stalls, we have regular aluminum nest boxes. — Leah Mae Johnson

• Chick-N-Nesting boxes…they turn anything into a coop! — Danielle Sechler-Gunther

• BELOW: Old metal ones. — Sharleen Beth McGaw Hendrickson

• Metal 10-hole nesting boxes. — Lyndsay Grummet

• Dish pans. — Christine R. Hupper

• BELOW — Nancy Powell

• We have a single nest box that opens on the outside, and it is really wide, so three or more hens can use it at once, but no dividers. We found the hens would use the same ones anyway and didn’t want to waste hubbies time build a bunch if they just choose favorites and share anyway. — Ericca Colby

• BELOW: My son built my small coop as a birthday present! The nest box is plywood. — Becky Mishler

• BELOW: We built a custom three-tier box to fit a vintage window. It’s so nice to be able to see in to find the eggs. — Lori Jordan

• BELOW: Lots of Dengie chicken bedding. — Tine Ton

• I have wooden boxes built into a stall in the barn that are difficult to clean. They don’t drain so I put a plastic tub in each one with straw. Now when an egg breaks it doesn’t stick to the wood and make a mess. And it’s much easier now to change out the bedding. — Susan Everett

• BELOW: An old play kitchen. — Holly Matherne

• Store-bought wooden boxes and I use pine shaving for bedding. — Jenny Leslie

• BELOW — Christi Jones

BELOW: My bantam’s love this one. — Christi Jone

• BELOW: I built it into the coop. I have access to the two nests from the outside. I placed the eggs in the nests to get the ladies motivated. They are right at 22 weeks old so we should be getting eggs any day! — Scott Branch

• BELOW: Plastic crates with top flaps. — Kymberly White

• Milk crates. — Rodney Marical

• BELOW: These are built into the wall and accessible from the outside of the coop. — John Johnson

• BELOW— Mamahen Shaw

• 5-gallon buckets. Just lay them on their sides and prop up the front with a block of wood or a brick, works great! — Jacqueline Taylor Robson

• Boxes built onto the back of the coop. — Karla Redden

• Kids bookcases. — Mary Dorcey

• Dishpans from the dollar store. I sized the partitions to fit and keep a few cleaned and ready to go in. They also are removable from the outside via a hatch. — Mike Hilbig

• BELOW: They have space but lay in the same nest. — Ericca Colby

• BELOW — Carrie Miller

• BELOW — Kenan Tufekcic

• BELOW: Kitty litter hooded pan. Easy to clean. — Chris Carena

• BELOW: Baby changing table. — April Wilson Brown

• BELOW: I use the black plastic fruit and vegetable packing cases. Lots of room, though you wouldn’t believe it and very easy to scrub clean! — Eileen Thomas

• Old speaker boxes. — Janene Duffy

• I bought an 8 nest condo from Farm Tek. They love it. I also nail up milk crates they are great for perches. — Carolyn Ellis Niven

• BELOW: Homemade boxes. — Sandra Nevins Bailey

• BELOW — Carrie Isenhouer Cushman

• Boxes built onto the side of the coop that I can access easily. I put straw in them. — Courtney Crawford

• BELOW — Isabella O’Mahony

• BELOW: Milk crates with pine shaving. — Mike’s Misc Sales

• BELOW: We recycle and work was gonna throw this soda rack out! — Kristin Ransiear

• BELOW: The Booda … they can be relocated out of the coop so they don’t lay in the yard. And they can be sanitized if they get dirty. They wait in line and also share if they’re impatient. — Donna Nelson

• BELOW: Kitty litter buckets! — Tanya Pribyl Manthie

• BELOW — Tammie Beckner

• Old subwoofer box. — Chuck Sturm

• Artificial grass. — Sharron Lowe

• Tool bins. — William Poling

• Lawnmower catcher with wood shavings from hubby’s toy making. — Kia Ora Dawnie Angell

• We made eight boxes and they all use the same one. — Molly Scott

• We made boxes from plywood & 2x4s. We use pine shavings as that’s what they have preferred. I’ve tried straw and even horse bedding but they like pine shavings. — Carrie Domerchie

• BELOW — Krista Johnson

• BELOW: Wine boxes. — Siry Bromley

• Bucket  — Jill Rogers

• BELOW — Kristen Cutlip

• BELOW: My newest rollaway nest boxes. — Julianne Seguin

• BELOW: I use cat litter containers. — Kristen Barton

• I built my chickens nest boxes, but they preferred laying in discarded sinks and old toilets that were dumped on the ranch I was cleaning up. — Kayla Chang

• Milk crates. — Tom Oates

• The bottom half of a cat carrier. — Brenda Givens

• BELOW: Wood shavings in a renovated dresser. Our first successful mama hen. — April Gardner

 • Plastic cat litter buckets on their side with the larger part of the cover removed, leaving the smaller part to be a ‘stopper’ so the shavings don’t get kicked out as much. — Diane Allen

• BELOW: Old potting planters. — Angi Toth

• BELOW: They are plastic. My husband then screwed them into the wall and put a little board in front. The girls love them! I have 10 hens and they use all three every day. Well, one little diva lays on the floor right underneath but the rest use them daily.

• Dishpans from the dollar store lined with wood chips. — Vicki Campbell

• BELOW: My husband built this for me. — Liz Kinyk

• BELOW: They’re numbered because the fronts are removable for cleaning, and were made for each box (not interchangeable). Makes it easier for me. — Ruth Ann Clark

• BELOW — Tracy Joan Case

• I must be the only person here that does not like to enter the pen to collect eggs, mine are set up in such a way I collect externally. — JR Wallis

• BELOW: We used these bins from Lowe’s and screwed them through the bottom. Girls absolutely love them. — Elisabeth Nyenhuis

•  Thrashed flax stalks filled 5-gallon buckets. I have a stack of milk crates I slide them into, or I just scatter them around the coop. — Kitsune Nyx

• BELOW: — Bonnie Williams

• Plastic lawnmower catchers. — Susan Glambert

• Beer boxes. — Andrew Sherman

• BELOW: 5-gallon bucks with holes drilled in the bottom so when I clean them the water can drain out. No curtains, that is just added work to keep clean. Simple is better. — Trish Haygood Hutchison

• BELOW — Jen Fletcher

• An old chest of drawers, drawers from an old refrigerator, and old car tires. — Joanne Russell

• BELOW: Old computer screens take out screen and wiring they love them. — Sue Jones

• BELOW: Home Depot buckets. — Beth Ann Henry Smith

• BELOW: Freebies from my son’s work. — Christine Cowling

• BELOW — Deloris Marie Bursott Mills

• BELOW: I found some old large mailboxes someone threw away and cut the backs out. I mounted them in the front wall of my coop so I can just open the mailbox door and reach right inside! — Marilyn Hill Baxter

• BELOW: Built from old wood and steel I found around our farm. — Andrew Weispfenning

• BELOW — I have used milk crates and wood boxes and 5-gallon buckets. — Penny Coffman

• If you do yard sales, old night stands can make a nest box, dressers too. I use old parrot cages as well. — Victoria Seaborn

• Wood wine boxes, they are wider. — Barbara Visocchi

• Bee boxes. — Angela Roberge

• Dishpan with pine shavings. — Linda Rice Carlton Abraham

• BELOW: Doghouse

• BELOW IKEA bookcases. — Amy Hendry Pistor

•  BELOW: Kitty liter containers, very easy to take out and clean! — Kelli Sizenbach

• BELOW: This is solid wood. — Deborah Rogers

 • Timber wine boxes. — Quentin Carter

50+ Surprising Chicken Nesting Box Ideas was originally posted by All About Chickens

[jazzviewswithcjshearn]

80′s Jazz music videos were horrible

In the 1980′s following the innovation of MTV and VH-1, everyone was trying to get in on the action.  Non mainstream music like jazz were beginning to make music videos, in an effort to expand the scope at the music and utilize the new medium, but the attempts at being artsy, or sometimes downright silly and stupid, in the case of the Chick Corea Elektric Band’s hilarious video for “Elektric City” failed on multiple levels. The Corea video is even more humorous for the fact Chick, keytar slung heroically around his neck, is seen trading back and forth with Scott Henderson who was not the guitarist!  The guitarist on the track was LA session ace Carlos Rios (most known for his solo on Lionel Ritchie’s hit “Dancing on the Ceiling” as well as work with Gino Vanelli), whom appeared on “The Chick Corea Elektric Band” (GRP, 1986) and a few tracks of “Light Years” (GRP, 1987) before the classic lineup of Corea, Eric Marienthal, John Pattitucci and Dave Weckl was firmly in place.

Artsy videos included the one for Lyle Mays’ great composition “Yolanda You Learn” by the Pat Metheny Group, consisting of garishly colored still images, and the band’s series of videos “Last Train Home”, (highlighted by Metheny’s bizarre stare into the camera) “Beat 70″, and “Slip Away” probably did little to gain the band new fans of a younger generation.  Metheny remarked years ago on the Q&A section of his website that they could have easily become “the Winger of jazz”, and he regrets those videos were made, having been coerced by Geffen to make them, despite his complete artistic control musically.  The Yellowjackets also had a horrendous video for the very cool tune “Wildlife” from “Four Corners” (MCA, 1987).  Were these videos meant to garner new fans or just be “art”? I really do not know.

I did see a video recently that absolutely took the cake for levels of awfulness.  That video is by saxophonist Bill Evans “The Path Of Least Resistance” on his  woefully dated album “The Alternative Man” (Blue Note, 1985).  This video in the space of 4 minutes, a thick haze of synth pop inspired jazz, contained so many non sequitir type images, that it made my head spin.  The video begins innocently enough with Evans sitting, soprano in hand looking into dusk New York skyline, composing at the piano, followed by a woman clad in a black leotard (hey, it was the 80′s!) tossing restlessly synchronized to Danny Gottlieb’s electronic drums. We then see multiple jumpcuts of a dog,  Evans composing the song, a woman playing bongo drums, an old man (probably) reading an herbal medicine book,  then practicing Tai chi with a short haired woman, presumably his daughter.  Leotard lady appears again suddenly in pointe shoes dancing to the music,with what seems to be the same frame  of the woman outstretching her leg in  a developpe pose twice, very odd.  Then the scene that absolutely makes the video the horrid cheese fest it is, appears...  Evans, playing a soprano saxophone solo  watching the dancing woman from his window across the way, while she takes a shower!  What?  WTF? Creep fest much?  What were the directors of this video thinking? Not only does the song (as well as album as a whole) represent the worst of electronics and synths not working in jazz, but their choice of random non sequitirs with Evans’ cross apartment peeping, is some sort of perhaps drug induced idea of what would make a jazz video appealing. 

As bad as that was, so is Stanley Jordan’s video for the smooth jazz radio hit cover  of Rod Temperton’s “The Lady in My Life” from his now classic major label debut “Magic Touch” (Blue Note, 1985).  That video, sees a random skeevy woman pawning off an Ibanez guitar which Jordan later purchases, and  uses  while street busking.  The video again shows a deliberate choice to focus on a ballet dancer, a craze in the mid 80′s to be sure, this time, a woman who appears interested in the guitarist, as she glances longingly at him during him performance.  She twirls around with him as he flashes a wide smile, then by video’s end, a thug steals the guitar.  Jordan rapidly charges after him and recovers the stolen guitar rather effortlessly.  It’s funny and just dumb!  Again, I am not sure who this video was meant to appeal to, it’s remarkable that the Corea, Metheny Group, Evans and Jordan videos never ended up on Beavis And Butthead.  They are that bad!  I had the Jordan LP as a 5 year old, my mom bought it for me, being the jazz head I was even at that time, but I never saw that video till recently. and it’s awful.  I think videos like this ended up being shown in late night, early morning hour blocks where they’d showcase “adult contemporary” music, on VH-1. I know the Metheny videos were shown on MTV from bits of research I’ve done over the years.

Jazz music videos for the most part suck, even down to the 1991 video for Miles Davis’ “Doo Bop” (Warner Brothers, 1992) and they add credibility to why jazz is mocked by non fans.  These videos would do nothing for people entranced by Michael Jackson. Prince, Peter Gabriel, A-Ha, people who were ground breakers in music video.  Even now, when jazz artists cut singles appearing on YT, they seldom work.  The closest to being an actual artistic statement was Ben Williams’ video for “Toy Soldiers”.  Check out the Evans video below in the link below!

[chuicide]

Ashton Stone Alpacas

After the head and feet have been out, Sol rested for ten minutes and munched on hay. The cria hiccuped and sputtered throughout this time, making an attempt to clear his lungs. After ten minutes of munching, Sol laid down after which stood up and the legs and neck popped out. We were relieved to see there was no elbow lock and we wouldn't should intervene in any respect. Because the cria continued to cough, Sol completed pushing him out. He was noticeably sturdy and was making an attempt to carry his head up and sniff the other alpacas as he was coming out. He also tried to stand on his front legs on the ground when his again legs had been nonetheless inside mother. The little guy hit the bottom and immediately tried to stand up. As he was rolling, Noah was capable of see that he was a boy. At this level, we were slightly disappointed since our last two cria had been boys. I simply couldn't perceive it. So, and that is where I get a bit naughty, I requested two other BAS judges, both who I hold in very high esteem to have a look at the 2 boys. I didn't give away anything of my views previous to their inspections and was very happy after they both put Wasimba ahead of Vickery, easily. Fleece statistics can tell us something concerning the alpacas too, Wasimba's fleece is finer by 2 microns. Right, that's it I have bought it off my chest and can now 'Let it go'. So to different news down right here in Patouland. This week I made a momentous journey out on the road to go to Andy and Viv Walker at Reddingvale alpacas. After all it is always momentous visiting Andy and Viv but this trip was extra momentous as it was the primary time that I have travelled with two Patou herdsires on board. On this occasion Qjori was joined by his son, Patou Tsar, a very particular boy here in Patouland, who has made the grade and has recently began his working life. It was an fascinating expertise as they have been in pens separated by a walkway wherein we stood. On one side was the deafening warrior like roar of Qjori orgling away as he dominated the Reddingvale female allotted to to him. On the opposite facet was the sight of Tsar clinging limpet-like to the again finish of absolutely one among the biggest females within the UK whilst he did his job in nearly complete silence. It was like being deaf in one ear.

The great thing about all the projects is that most require no veterinary expertise, only a motivation to work with animals and make a difference. It is no wonder that these wildlife conservation projects have gotten extra common. For the reason that early years of 'Save the Whale', the concept of nature conservation has risen dramatically in our society's consciousness. Animal charities have all the time earned a generous chew of our annual donations, however as considerations about world warming spread, so does the consciousness of the animals that depend on endangered habitat. Not way back you had been unlikely to listen to of the phrase "endangered habitat" except it came from the mouth of David Attenborough. Now anyone with a few weeks to spare can emulate Attenborough by volunteering to work with animals up shut for a rewarding and life-changing expertise abroad. Mark Bottell is the general Supervisor for Worldwide Expertise, a web based tour operator providing extended breaks working with animals, and hole years for grown-ups. And another thing, breakfast time. Why, as an illustration, would you need to queue up so that you might be asked by a lady what room we you in in order that she would then know who we were. She then asks one other lady to walk us 5 paces to a desk and supply us some orange juice earlier than she tells us where the buffet is and points to desk with more orange juice on it. It annoyed me. I do not know why nevertheless it did. Anyhow, we have been in a resort (it was a Hilton if you're interested) because we were attending The British Alpaca Futurity at something known as the NEC. So to the show, how did it go? Nicely it was the most important and finest Futurity so far with almost 450 alpacas entered and the quality of those alpacas was right up there with any on the planet. Successful rosettes was powerful however with a show workforce of 5 we had been delighted to come back away with 4 rosettes.

Once the electrical is sealed up nice and tight, it is time to maneuver onto the gears. Publisher: Wayne Allen If you are into off-road sports and love the fun of a very good time, it is best to look into mud bogging trucks. Writer: Wayne Allen The concept behind the sport is very fundamental. It is a race but possibly not in the normal sense of Alpaca Gallery of Alpacas Cria black stud alpacas the phrase. The purpose of the race is to see who can journey the furthest by means of a deep pit of mud. If a vehicle makes it all the way via the course then they are the winner. If a couple of vehicle makes all of it the best way via then the individual with the fastest time is declared the winner. Publisher: Wayne Allen All riders that hit muddy terrain take the time to get their vehicle ready for doing so. The ATV straight from the factory isn't the one you need to take into serious muddy situations. Making sure you've airtight airboxes is vital.

Log in or Create Account to put up a comment. Writer: Jordan M Mcnight In as little as three days you possibly can have your own coop, with chickens laying eggs. As long as you can hammer a nail into a bit of wood you may build a hen coop. Low value materials, and just a little or loads of house and you're on your technique to producing the most effective eggs you will ever eat. Don't worry, you need not plan a single factor. Rooster coop lovers have compiled many various rooster coop plans so that anyone can construct a chicken coop. Publisher: celina thomos In today’s time the pattern of proudly owning a rooster coop is dramatically growing amongst everyone. If you wish to know reason behind this then just learn the entire article. Publisher: Melissa J Peters Building a chicken-coop requires some parts to maintain your stock productive and healthy. The concept of an organic chicken is still in the gray areas even now as the certain conditions which are required for organically beginning a chicken farm could be diversified and generally conflicting from one farm to another. So what actually is the which means of "natural" in the whole context of organic chicken farming? A very protected and established definition for an natural hen can be a chicken freely raised in a cage-free setting, wholly dependent of pure and chemical-free organic feeds all their lives. They are free, and lead stress-free lives by roaming round a lot of the day, eating insects and worms. The underlying philosophy behind that is to offer a wholesome different for that run-of-the mill and bland supermarket hen, packed with synthetic stuffs. If you consider starting a chicken farm whether or not in your backyard or on a grander scale, you must look into the prospect of beginning an organic chicken farm.

As your chickens loose their feathers you'll be able to clean them and use them for crafts to sell. Crafters use feathers for floral dcor, as a part of dream catchers, purses, hats, and different accessories. With the number of colour, patterns, size, and texture in rooster feathers a great crafter is limited solely by their imagination. There are many things to contemplate earlier than building a chicken coop and raising chickens efficiently. Sign-up proper now for your FREE copy of Paul Cernay's report and find out find out how to do precisely that. Log in or Create Account to put up a remark. Elevating Chickens For Enjoyable Or Revenue? Rooster Coop Plans Made Simple! Publisher: Steven B So that you determined to lift chickens in your yard, great determination! Now the question is how are you going to get your chickens? Are you going to buy them as chicks and elevate them to adults or are you going to purchase fertile eggs and hatch them yourself? Additionally what sort of housing will you select for them? It has been a busy couple of weeks and particularly a busy weekend at the guts of England Alpaca Fiesta. I had by no means been to this show earlier than as a consequence of work commitments however now as my world has changed it has change into a work dedication in itself! I had selected a new show team with three unshown weanlings in it, the two grey boys, Wasimba and Vickery and brown youngster, Umberto. I've only bought a small trailer and wanted to see how some others bought on. The one remaining member of the workforce was Tsar and he was joined by Talisker in the intermediate brown class. As typical I set off with excessive hopes, my extremely competitive nature leading to a 3 hour trip dreaming of victory in the ring. I know it's ridiculous to at all times have such excessive expectations however I just can't assist it, I attempt not to however I can not!

If you adored this article and also you would like to obtain more info about Faraway Alpacas kindly visit the page.

[ask-dsminecraft]

Ashton Stone Alpacas

After the head and toes were out, Sol rested for ten minutes and munched on hay. The cria hiccuped and sputtered throughout this time, trying to clear his lungs. After ten minutes of munching, Sol laid down and then stood up and the legs and neck popped out. We had been relieved to see there was no elbow lock and we wouldn't have to intervene at all. As the cria continued to cough, Sol completed pushing him out. He was noticeably sturdy and was attempting to carry his head up and sniff the opposite alpacas as he was popping out. He additionally tried to stand on his entrance legs on the bottom when his again legs were still inside mom. The little guy hit the bottom and instantly tried to face up. As he was rolling, Noah was capable of see that he was a boy. At this point, we had been a little upset since our last two cria had been boys. I just could not understand it. So, and this is where I get a bit naughty, I asked two different BAS judges, both who I hold in very excessive esteem to have a take a look at the 2 boys. I did not give away anything of my views previous to their inspections and was very pleased once they each put Wasimba forward of Vickery, simply. Fleece statistics can inform us one thing in regards to the alpacas too, Wasimba's fleece is finer by 2 microns. Proper, that's it I've bought it off my chest and can now 'Let it go'. So to different news down right here in Patouland. This week I made a momentous journey out on the highway to go to Andy and Viv Walker at Reddingvale alpacas. After all it's all the time momentous visiting Andy and Viv however this journey was extra momentous as it was the first time that I have travelled with two Patou herdsires on board. On this occasion Qjori was joined by his son, Patou Tsar, a very special boy here in Patouland, who has made the grade and has lately began his working life. It was an fascinating experience as they have been in pens separated by a walkway during which we stood. On one aspect was the deafening warrior like roar of Qjori orgling away as he dominated the Reddingvale feminine allotted to to him. On the other aspect was the sight of Tsar clinging limpet-prefer to the back finish of surely one in every of the largest females within the UK while he did his job in virtually complete silence. It was like being deaf in one ear.

The fantastic thing about all the tasks is that most require no veterinary experience, solely a motivation to work with animals and make a difference. It's no wonder that these wildlife conservation projects have gotten more common. For the reason that early years of 'Save the Whale', the concept of nature conservation has risen dramatically in our society's consciousness. Animal charities have all the time earned a generous chunk of our annual donations, but as concerns about world warming unfold, so does the awareness of the animals that depend on endangered habitat. Not long ago you were unlikely to hear of the phrase "endangered habitat" unless it got here from the mouth of David Attenborough. Now anybody with a couple of weeks to spare can emulate Attenborough by volunteering to work with animals up shut for a rewarding and life-changing expertise abroad. Mark Bottell is the final Supervisor for Worldwide Expertise, a web based tour operator offering extended breaks working with animals, and hole years for grown-ups. And another factor, breakfast time. Why, for instance, would it's a must to queue up so that you simply could possibly be asked by a lady what room we you in so that she would then know who we were. She then asks another lady to stroll us 5 paces to a table and provide us some orange juice earlier than she tells us where the buffet is and factors to table with more orange juice on it. It annoyed me. I do not know why however it did. Anyhow, we have been in a resort (it was a Hilton if you are interested) because we had been attending The British Alpaca Futurity at something known as the NEC. So to the show, how did it go? Effectively it was the biggest and finest Futurity so far with practically 450 alpacas entered and the standard of these alpacas was proper up there with any on the planet. Successful rosettes was tough but with a show workforce of five we have been delighted to come back away with four rosettes.

As soon as the electrical is sealed up nice and tight, it's time to maneuver onto the gears. Publisher: Wayne Allen In case you are into off-road sports activities and love the joys of a great time, you must look into mud bogging trucks. Writer: Wayne Allen The thought behind the sport could be very primary. It's a race however possibly not in the traditional sense of At Hensting Alpacas Hampshire the word. The purpose of the race is to see who can travel the furthest through a deep pit of mud. If a car makes all of it the way in which by way of the course then they're the winner. If more than one vehicle makes all of it the way in which via then the individual with the fastest time is declared the winner. Writer: Wayne Allen All riders that hit muddy terrain take the time to get their vehicle ready for doing so. The ATV straight from the manufacturing unit just isn't the one you wish to take into serious muddy circumstances. Making sure you've airtight airboxes is vital.

Log in or Create Account to post a comment. Publisher: Jordan M Mcnight In as little as three days you possibly can have your own coop, with chickens laying eggs. As long as you can hammer a nail into a chunk of wooden you'll be able to construct a chicken coop. Low cost materials, and a bit or a lot of area and you are in your strategy to producing the very best eggs you will ever eat. Don't be concerned, you need not plan a single factor. Rooster coop enthusiasts have compiled many alternative hen coop plans in order that anyone can build a rooster coop. Writer: celina thomos In today’s time the development of owning a hen coop is dramatically increasing among everyone. If you wish to know motive behind this then simply learn the entire article. Publisher: Melissa J Peters Constructing a chicken-coop requires some components to keep your stock productive and wholesome. The idea of an organic chicken remains to be within the gray areas even now as the certain conditions which might be required for organically starting a rooster farm may very well be different and generally conflicting from one farm to another. So what actually is the which means of "natural" in the whole context of natural hen farming? A very safe and established definition for an natural rooster would be a chicken freely raised in a cage-free environment, wholly dependent of pure and chemical-free natural feeds all their lives. They are free, and lead stress-free lives by roaming round much of the day, eating insects and worms. The underlying philosophy behind that is to supply a wholesome various for that run-of-the mill and bland supermarket chicken, full of synthetic stuffs. If you happen to consider beginning a chicken farm whether or not on your backyard or on a grander scale, you should look into the prospect of beginning an organic rooster farm.

As your chickens free their feathers you can clean them and use them for crafts to sell. Crafters use feathers for floral dcor, as part of dream catchers, purses, hats, and different accessories. With the variety of color, patterns, length, and texture in hen feathers a good crafter is limited solely by their imagination. There are lots of issues to think about earlier than building a chicken coop and raising chickens successfully. Sign-up right now in your FREE copy of Paul Cernay's report and find out how to do exactly that. Log in or Create Account to put up a remark. Raising Chickens For Fun Or Profit? Rooster Coop Plans Made Easy! Publisher: Steven B So that you decided to boost chickens in your backyard, great determination! Now the question is how are you going to get your chickens? Are you going to purchase them as chicks and increase them to adults or are you going to buy fertile eggs and hatch them your self? Also what kind of housing will you select for them? It has been a busy couple of weeks and in particular a busy weekend at the heart of England Alpaca Fiesta. I had by no means been to this show earlier than as a consequence of work commitments however now as my world has modified it has turn out to be a work dedication in itself! I had chosen a new show crew with three unshown weanlings in it, the two grey boys, Wasimba and Vickery and brown youngster, Umberto. I've only got a small trailer and wished to see how some others obtained on. The one remaining member of the crew was Tsar and he was joined by Talisker in the intermediate brown class. As ordinary I set off with high hopes, my highly aggressive nature leading to a 3 hour journey dreaming of victory within the ring. I do know it is ridiculous to at all times have such excessive expectations but I simply can't assist it, I strive not to but I can not!

If you liked this article and you also would like to obtain more info about Fun Things to do in Hampshire nicely visit our web site.

[usuallyrics-blog]

All The Way Up (Remix)

New Lyrics has been published on usuallyrics.com https://usuallyrics.com/lyrics/all-the-way-up-remix/

All The Way Up (Remix)

(feat. Jadakiss & Fabolous)

[Verse 1: Meek Mill] Catch you out in traffic, it’s you and I Gold 41 in a suit and tie, nigga it’s do or die Seen it now, if I lose it all like who would ride? But nigga I’m so up, if I tripped it’s like suicide When the internet told me I’m crucified They was in them streets like, “Nigga you super live” I was on the block when you was a sneakerhead Nigga it’s a check up in that box, ain’t no shoe inside Nigga ain’t no Nike, ain’t no Yeezy, no Jordan V I came back like I’m Mike wearin’ 45 Ever seen 50 grand when it’s all in 5s? But I’m shootin’ like the Warriors’ startin’ 5, swish! Only rapper went gold without a verse from Hov Still got the rock with me, cookin’ up at the stove And the Rollie all platinum, know I bust it at Joe Maybach in the hood, so them suckers can know I’m in the 6, man, 6 man, Dion Waiters And I’m on my level now, I’m so beyond haters Bout to go and grab the Benz truck, see y’all later When I came through the block, you should’ve seen y’all faces This is slaughter, new world order I be goin’ hard, Westbrook, 4th quarter This is hip-hop, you ain’t write it, don’t record it I don’t know how they gettin’ down ‘cross the border I give ’em the dirty flow, Michigan and water Sent them 10 thousand cases, I put in my order Call that poppin’ bottles when my people can’t afford it Mixin’ D’usse with lemonade when I’m in Georgia Views from the projects, and nigga I’m the prospect Talkin’ loud, say I’m shootin’ out with metal objects And that chick standin’ right beside you, I done popped that Made me beat a fan up, I’m feelin’ like I’m Artest, woo! Gold mic from the billboards, ’bout to plug it up Tell Cruz put it in the booth so I can fuck it up Got the hood super lit, jumpin’ like it’s double dutch From the bottom like an uppercut, now I’m all the way up I’m all the way up You niggas all the way fucked Switched sides, now you stuck Fuck them niggas though

[Verse 2: Fabolous] They don’t wanna see you on top I just wanna see the streets up They don’t wanna see you up That’s it They gon’ take shots when you all the way up I guess they gotta aim up at you But don’t you let these nobodies get their name up on you Keep the circle tight, never let ’em lame up the crew If she for everybody, don’t you let her claim up on you Now listen, you gave up on me, I came up on you Took my talents somewhere else, LeBron James up on you I was Kyrie with the rock, the crack game number 2 Now I’m older, still ballin’ like my name Uncle Drew They tell you… stay the same, but they change up on you Niggas change up the crew like hoes change up their boo I just played the cards they dealt me ’til a change-up was due Guess I had to switch the dealer or just change up the shoe Now blackjack, Ace of Spade and a shot of Jack I met a bad actress, she ain’t know how to act I took her but I brought her back Don’t want her back, I bought her bag Matte like Hasselbeck, I call my card a quarterback If I threw it at her would you doubt she could catch? She hang like a chain so she ’bout to get snatched Ain’t about throwin’ subs, I’m about gettin’ scratches But if the shoe fits, nigga, buy an outfit to match it And you know my boys hold it, we be out with the ratchets I heard your boys told her you be out with the rats Keep that on the “Shhhh!”, nothing less, nothing more I know the Bad Boys in Brooklyn, they ain’t with the Puffy tour What’s up with your Warriors? They ain’t lookin’ tough no more Should get out your feelings bro, and get in your duffle, boy Level up, level up, it’s all about that level up Hold that fuckin’ bezel up and light this bitch all the way up

[Verse 3: Jadakiss] Meek called me and Fab, Joe called Jigga up She jumped in the 6, 550 wasn’t big enough Reason niggas die, they don’t know how to live enough They can tread water, but they can’t swim enough Nah, I’m built for the physical outing Besides that, I’m filthy, like municipal housing J all I know is 500, getchu a thousand I be in all the hood spots you not allowed in Opps in the building, automatically alert that Hand on the wrist so the chrome don’t jerk back Pull it out, you already know you gotta squirt that I’m all the way up I’m from where the phones don’t work at You gon’ need the key from the lobby to slide up You don’t know the key to the body is mind up Born with it then you don’t gotta get signed up Gotta go when you gotta go, your times up Extendos, no need for keeping the 9’s tucked I’m kicking you off the ladder for trying to climb up Yup, overlooking the city I’m all the way up, I’m like Hov looking at Biggie It’s 50 in the bank, who rollin’? Shoot the 50 If I ace, then these niggas think they hit me But I’m all the way up

[Outro:] All the way up I’m all the way up All the way up All the way up And everytime you see me nigga Man I’m all the way up

Who is Meek Mill

Robert Rihmeek Williams, famous stage name Meek Mill, is an American rapper. Born in Philadelphia, the artist began his musical career with The Bloodhoundz. In 2008, hip-hop artist T.I. made the first entry.

[lindyhunt]

Meet the Chicks with Kicks, Three Sisters Who’ve Collected Over 6,000 Pairs of Sneakers

One wall of our Nike Air Force 1 closet#nike #nikes#adidas#puma#reebok#igsneakercommunity #igsneakers#sneakerhead#sneakercon#sneakeraddict #kickstagram#kicks #af1#airforce#airforce1

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Oct 17, 2017 at 9:17pm PDT

If the term “sneaker collector” brings to mind sniffling teenage boy hypebeasts,  then you’ll be pleasantly surprised that what may arguably be the largest sneaker collection in the world – over 6,000 pairs –is managed by a trio of three sisters from Boca Raton, Florida whose online avatars are the Powerpuff Girls. Ariana, Dakota, and Dresden Peters took over the collection from their father, who began collecting in the mid-1980s. Their Instagram account has over 100k followers and fans fawn over their basketball court filled with rare sneakers. In the last forty years, the collection has ballooned to over 6,000 pairs, but who knows if that’s an accurate number – the sisters have stopped counting. FASHION spoke with Ariana, 24, and Dakota, 18, from the office of their family-run real estate company, on how sneakers can be a form of art, what it’s like to pursue such a male-dominated hobby, and what their future plans are for the collection.

So how did your dad get into collecting sneakers in the first place?

He started collecting out of a love of sports. He played basketball and wore sneakers as a fashion statement and it spiraled from there. Let’s say there was a pair of Air Force 1s he wanted to wear. He always bought a second pair to store. Then one shoe turned into a thousand. That’s how it goes with our dad usually.

#Flashbackfriday to the first time we ever gave the public a look into our collection (2016) This is only half of it!😱 COMMENT if you think we should do an updated video 😎 ————————— #fashion #nmd #mode #style #fashionista #instafashion #menswear #yeezyseason #watches #outfitoftheday #yeezy #yeezyboost350 #watch #ultraboost #dope #hype #mensfashion #streetwear #sneakerhead #ootd #adidas #sneakers #hypebeast #sneakersaddict #shoes #menstyle #kicks #outfit #yeezyboost

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Jan 19, 2018 at 3:31pm PST

How did he entice you to take over the collection?

Growing up surrounded by sneakers, you grow a love for it yourself. Each week there was a new sneaker. Now [collecting sneakers] is very prevalent but back then he was sort of a rarity. It wasn’t like that back then. There were sneakers all over our house. My dad had a sneaker room because there were so many pairs. It was always an art form to him. So it became a hobby for all of us.

How can sneakers be a form of art?

There’s a lot of history in sneakers. Just as someone would buy a coveted art piece, there are certain coveted sneakers, like the 1985 Air Jordan 1s. That was the first year the Jordans were released, they were really like a revolution to the brand Jordan and the brand Nike. In that sense it is an art form, it’s very expressive. Whether you’re storing the sneakers as a collection, it’s an art form, and also fashion is in and of itself an art form. At SneakerCon and these events we go to, everyone is expressing themselves in different ways. You look at someone and see their sense of self.

We're not allowed to have these YEEZYS in our house so we might be giving them away 🤔 _______________________________ #2018 #nmd #mode #style #happynewyear #instafashion #menswear #yeezyseason #watches #outfitoftheday #yeezy #yeezyboost350 #watch #ultraboost #dope #hype #mensfashion #streetwear #sneakerhead #ootd #adidas #sneakers #hypebeast #sneakersaddict #shoes #menstyle #kicks #outfit #yeezyboost

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Jan 6, 2018 at 5:58pm PST

Can you give me a sense of what you do collect vs. what you don’t collect?

We specialize in rare examples, players editions, promos, samples. What we don’t buy is the hype stuff nowadays. For example, a Yeezy or the Pharrell Human Race Adidas. That’s what’s very popular now. They do a limited release and then the prices skyrocket, even though the box price is $250 or $200. We don’t buy into that stuff because it’s essentially a fake market. We don’t knock it. We appreciate the style. It’s very cool. But it’s not something we collect.

How much money is invested in the collection?

Well we stopped counting at 6,000 pairs. We don’t have an accurate number. But we don’t really look at it like that. We’ve had people offer us insurmountable amounts of money for our collection, but it’s something that we still haven’t explored.

So people have tried to buy the whole collection from you?

When we first started our Instagram account, within a few weeks we had one of the largest collectors reach out to us and immediately say ‘I would love to fly down and buy your whole collection.’ Because he saw we were three girls and he thought we didn’t really know what we have. We get hundreds of people each week writing us, ‘Can I buy this pair? Do you have this pair?’ We’ve never sold a pair and we’re not selling anything until we open up our store, where we’ll put the whole collection for sale.

I was curious if you would eventually donate the collection to a museum, or pass it on in your family. So tell me more about the store you’re going to be opening?

Our main goal is to be able to have a one stop shop where everything you could imagine involving a sneaker would be at our store. If you want to buy sneakers, if you want to clean your sneakers etc. We took our time and purchased a building across from our real estate office. We’re going to have a 24-hour livestream of the store because it is also a museum; there are so many sneakers there that people have never seen before. Also the design of the store is very important to us. We’ve seen so many sneaker stores, we couldn’t even name the amount…

THE CWK CRIB COURT| BTS Of Our @sneakerfreakermag Photo Shoot ——————————————————————————— #TCWK👟 #CWKCRIB #SneakerHead

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Dec 28, 2017 at 9:09am PST

Do you have a favourite sneaker in the collection?

We love our 1982 Air Force One collection because we have the largest collection of that specific shoe in the world. It has so much history. We have the Sex and the City x Nike Presto, which is really cool.

What’s your take on the designer sneakers – like these chunky Balenciaga ones – that have come out recently? Would you ever collect designer sneakers?

We love the designer sneakers, but does it really fit into what we collect? No. But do we love them and wear them? Yes. Streetwear is so cool. We love it when streetwear becomes high fashion.

💥 CWKSUPPLY 💥 ——————————————————————————— Our AS-IS Longsleeve & Anti Hypebeast Tee (Link In Bio) USE CODE “CWK20” FOR OUR SPECIAL NEW YEARS DISCOUNT ——————————————————————————— #TCWK👟 #sneakerhead

A post shared by The Chicks With Kicks (@thechickswithkicks) on Dec 29, 2017 at 1:22pm PST

What was behind the decision to start your own clothing line, CWK Supply?

We travel to a lot of the sneaker shows and the kids that come to these shows, they want to leave with something. Sometimes you can’t leave with a $700 pair of sneakers so we thought, ‘Why not make some cool t-shirts?” Also, every [sneaker show] booth we saw was run by men so we wanted to have our own booth and figured we should probably sell something. The last two shows, we were the only females to have a booth.

Why you think sneaker culture is so male-dominated?

We don’t really think about it because our real estate business is also male-dominated, so we’re sort of used to it. A lot of women do love sneakers, but they’re just not out in the open about it because it is known to be male-dominated. So many people came up to at the sneaker shows and said, ‘We’re so happy to see girls have their own booth.’ Even a mom told us she wanted her daughters to have a booth and this will make her not as scared because there’s other girls doing it.

Most people are probably shocked when they hear you have 6,000 pair of shoes. What drives you to keep collecting sneakers?

It’s a part of our family. Some families collect coins, cards, stamps. This is something we were brought up with so we have such a passion for it now. It’s become a part of our every day life, we’re creating content around sneakers, sharing our collection. It’s something we can’t imagine not doing.