http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php A place to talk about relationships en Mon, 06 Feb 2012 23:31:51 GMT vBulletin 60 http://www.gogabber.com/images/solido/misc/rss.jpg http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=213 Mon, 04 Jul 2011 04:24:04 GMT A hearty group of protesters representing several community organizations showed up today to protest the vote of civil rights icon and Member of... A hearty group of protesters representing several community organizations showed up today to protest the vote of civil rights icon and Member of Congress from Atlanta, John Lewis, to continue funding for the bombing of Libya. The Congressman interrupted his schedule and heard the frustrations of his constituents who are outraged at the quiescence of Congress, the Congressional Black Caucus, and the Progressive Caucus in light of President Obama's policy to bomb Africa.
President Obama was addressing the country on national television defending his actions in Libya. The Congressman Lewis, reiterated his antipathy to war by saying that "war is obsolete." The group asked the Congressman to be unequivocal in future votes and deny funding for President Obama's current wars.

Meanwhile, President Obama was speaking to the nation. Incredibly, the President demeaned national and Congressional concern for his war policy as "fuss" by saying, "A lot of this fuss is politics." I think those of us who want to work for peace should let this President know what "fuss" really looks like.

This comes at a time when the U.S., by one estimate, spends approximately $3 billion per week for war against Iraq and Afghanistan. The President and Congress continue to fund the war against Libya despite the fact that Secretary of Defense Robert Gates announced that the U.S. had no strategic interest in Libya; and despite the fact that the Senate Chairwoman of the Select Committee on Intelligence admits that the U.S. really does not know who the "rebels" are; while the rebels themselves, according to a Telegraph report of 25 March 2011, admit that Al Qaeda elements are among their ranks. So while the apparatus of government has been used for over ten years to inform the American people and the global community that Al Qaeda is an enemy of freedom-loving people all over the world, Obama chooses to ally military with none other than Al Qaeda elements in Libya and other people whom U.S. intelligence say they do not know. ]]> connormcbrat http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=213 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=212 Mon, 04 Jul 2011 03:59:37 GMT Why has the United States government supported counterinsurgency in Colombia, Guatemala, El Salvador, and many other places around the world, at such... Why has the United States government supported counterinsurgency in Colombia, Guatemala, El Salvador, and many other places around the world, at such a loss of human life to the populations of those nations? Why did it invade tiny Grenada and then Panama? Why did it support mercenary wars against progressive governments in Nicaragua, Mozambique, Angola, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, Indonesia, East Timor, Western Sahara, South Yemen, and elsewhere?
As a relative latecomer to the practice of colonialism, the United States could not match the older European powers in the acquisition of overseas territories. But the United States was the earliest and most consummate practitioner of neoimperialism or neocolonialism, the process of dominating the politico-economic life of a nation without benefit of direct possession.
And today, the U.S. counterinsurgency apparatus and surrogate security forces in Latin America and elsewhere sustain a system of political assassination, torture, and repression unequaled in technological sophistication and ruthlessness. ]]> connormcbrat http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=212 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=210 Sat, 04 Jun 2011 06:44:51 GMT I have travelled extensively to a few countries and never had any real problems. Sometimes a wee blip here and there but nothing too problematic.... I have travelled extensively to a few countries and never had any real problems.
Sometimes a wee blip here and there but nothing too problematic.
Halfway through May 2011 I travelled to Benidorm, my first time there, and had no problems with my outbound flight.
In fact I had purchased a speedy boarding option for only £20 and with this I was permitted to go to the front of the queue at check in and got priority at going through security and was allowed to be one of the first to board the plane.
The flight left on time and arrived on time and I had no problems with my transfer to my hotel.
My travel plans were to return to Glasgow after my vacation in Benidorm and next day after my arrival to embark on my next trip to Ukraine.
But I became concerned when the volcanic ash problem arose once again and the day before my departure from Benidorm all flights to Scotland were cancelled and it seemed I was going to be stuck in Benidorm and also miss out on my trip to Ukraine.
But thankfully the situation changed overnight and my flight to Glasgow left as scheduled.
I arrived in the evening in Glasgow, got a few hours sleep, then rose early to begin my next trip.
My next flight was Glasgow to Gatwick and it left on time, so no problems there.
But my next flight, Gatwick to Kiev, was delayed for more than one hour.
Not a major delay but it can be problematic when you have taxis waiting for you at the other end, friends to meet at pre-arranged times etc.
However, on my arrival at the new terminal F in Borispol I got a pleasant surprise when it took only 5-10 minutes to get through passport control, a process which had previously taken about one hour.
Got my taxi, arrived at hotel, met my friend for dinner then to bed as I was off on the next leg of my journey early next morning, Kiev to Simferopol.
Hotel was very nice but overcharged me for taxi to Borispol but I didn't really care as I had expected this.
Flight to Simferopol was delayed by two hours so had to pay waiting time also for my taxi waiting there for me then had one hour journey to Evpatoria.
It's an old city with a few interesting places but overall there is not too much to see there.
At the end of my time in Evpatoria I again made the one hour journey to Simferopol then found my flight to Kiev was delayed for almost two hours.
Finally got to Kiev and flight to London left a little late but nothing to worry about.
Got to London and yes, you guessed it, flight to Glasgow delayed for one hour.
I was tired, exhausted in fact, by the time I finally arrived at my home.
All these delays and waiting around in airports had really gotten to me.
But then I had a nice cup of tea and everything was fine.
So, where shall I go next ?
Travel used to be fun but it's fast becoming an ordeal, only a means to an end. ]]> jimsan http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=210 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=192 Mon, 14 Mar 2011 10:33:45 GMT Happiness is not life without worries and sorrows, happiness is the state of the soul. (Dzerzhinsky) Счастье - это не жизнь без забот и печалей,... Happiness is not life without worries and sorrows, happiness is the state of the soul. (Dzerzhinsky)

Счастье - это не жизнь без забот и печалей, счастье - это состояние души. (Ф.Э. Дзержинский)





(find here http://www.liveinternet.ru/users/libertyjulia/)

Music: http://www.esnips.com/doc/f8d6bc2c-2...-Lunar_dungeon

:) ]]> Іеуафт Лркфикщ http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=192 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=178 Sat, 27 Nov 2010 13:38:44 GMT I think life must be lived... must be breathe through all our pores. we must touch, smell, taste it because this is the only way we can say, when we... I think life must be lived... must be breathe through all our pores. we must touch, smell, taste it because this is the only way we can say, when we are old, that we haven't lost anything.

I can't stop myself wondering, then, why are we so afraid of living? we run all our lives for an intense and real love moment but when we find it, we run from it, or we close our hearts cause we are too scared of getting hurt. we are too scared to eat something we are not used to, or to experience something we never lived and we prefer to stay in our small yard we are so used to, just because people expect us to do this, or because we are too afraid of changing what we have and know already.

"I still have time", we say, but we forget how surprising this life... or death.. can be and maybe tomorrow we will be just air, or sand, or water. they say the present is the past all together, because everything we are, comes from our experiences. everything we are and become..

when we start living in the past through our perfect or imperfect memories and lost stories, or in the future dreaming how things are going to be, we can say we're dead already. because being so busy with our minds, dreams and memories we miss the moment we have. the smell of a lily on a street's corner, the sweet taste of spring in the air.his/ her smile.

we are now and we have this moment to catch all our life and her small imperfections.

of course we can't just live the moment without planning everything, but we must forget sometimes about what we HAVE to do or what we MUST do, and to live, intense, properly. in beauty and ugliness, in love and hate, in night and day, in heaven and hell.

...all together...


]]> rainy-day http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=178 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=171 Tue, 19 Oct 2010 21:46:54 GMT Being born and raised in the Great Lakes State, I've been able to enjoy the beauty of nature and the best of all four seasons.

Included in this blog will be information about everything from the climate, the people, the history, the landscape, and just about anything related to Michigan.

Credit for info goes to Wikipedia ]]> http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=171 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=155 Tue, 14 Sep 2010 17:31:13 GMT I'm wondering who would ever be able to understand women? They are getting upset and angry for nothing. They cry in the restaurants, on tv, they are crying when they are upset, happy or angry. In the moment you love the world most, the whole sky drops intro your head, taking the form of a million, billion, zillion of tears.

Oh, and if there would be only this! Besides tears, the women take their place in human kind's soul, through talking. Bla, bla, bla here, bla, bla bla, there, bla, bla, bla that you didn't took the garbage, bla, bla why are you going out with the boys? Why do you need that beer anyway? We are a couple, so we must go out together! This is what you swore in front of God on our weeding day: Until death will separate us!

….and you're gazing yourself in the mirror, spotting another white hair, together with the last 20 appeared in the last four days.....

and I almost forgot the mood swings: first, they are getting angry because you pay them too much attention, then, they get angry you don't pay them enough attention, they tell you to leave, and if you leave, you're dead. You should have stayed there, not letting her like a lonely dog, upset.....

So, the question is: What can we do?

Women are not complicated at all…….they are melting in their flesh the whole beauty and the deepest dreams of the earth.…sweet and wild, moody or warm, they are the magical ingredient meant to bring light in the world's existence. In their name the wars got started, hymns were played, new words were invented and the poets killed themselves, and came back to life. In their name laws and ordered were changed and the whole world started from the beginning or…got crazy

So, the question is: Is it important for HER to be known?

She is just perfect the way she is, an imperfect whole that brings white hair, arise the blood pressure and the pulse, is able to make the people sick, and healthy again.
The woman should never be known...her mystery soars over the mind as a soft wing in a nest, the wing we are leaving from and to whom we are always coming back….with the eyes full of tears...our first and last word.....

….and this is her destiny….to be the complete mystery, impossible to be broken, a mystery deeper than big bang itself, cause if she wouldn't be this way, we would all die of boredom...

...every single day... ]]> rainy-day http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=155 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=138 Sun, 08 Aug 2010 13:09:54 GMT I Do not know what to do,think i need some good advice.thing arent working for me no more.am heartbroken I Do not know what to do,think i need some good advice.thing arent working for me no more.am heartbroken ]]> nelson3490 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=138 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=137 Sun, 08 Aug 2010 13:09:24 GMT I Do not know what to do,think i need some good advice.thing arent working for me no more.am heartbroken I Do not know what to do,think i need some good advice.thing arent working for me no more.am heartbroken ]]> nelson3490 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=137 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=133 Wed, 28 Jul 2010 14:36:37 GMT They say the music starts in the point the word is losing its meaning. We can say the same about dancing, because the dancers tell us whole stories... They say the music starts in the point the word is losing its meaning. We can say the same about dancing, because the dancers tell us whole stories without saying a word. The stage, the scenery, the costumes, the music and their own bodies become the tools they use to transpose the public into the fragile world of the movement, which is alive as long as the music flows.
Ballet is an art made with care, apparently simple, but there are only few who know that the light steps, the flight, the grace and the high jumps hide many years in the study classroom, consumptive rehearsals and efforts which, most of the time, force the limits. Because there, on stage, the dancer transforms, with sculptor's meticulousness and stubbornness, his own body, into a piece of art, having one and supreme wage: the appreciation and the applauses of the public.

I arrived on Culture House on a Wednesday evening, a half an hour earlier than Ballet Gala, the program of Sibiu Ballet Theatre, was programmed to begin. Because of my early arrival I had plenty of time to see the preparations of the dancers for the show and to feel their emotions. Down, in the cabins, a big rush. An interesting contrast with the silence and peace you can find everywhere on the hallways. The dancers are preparing for the two hours show which is announced to fill the hall. In the cabins, on hangers, are laying quietly all the costumes the ballerinas will wear along the evening, but a big part of the artists are already dressed up, with the make up on, tracing the last retouching. On small faces is set with meticulousness a dramatic make up. The lips on blood's color, the rounds of the eyes doubled by a black thick line, the cheek bones, lifted with red have to transmit the sight and the emotion until the far off corner of the hall with 700 sits. The hair enriched with ribbons, flowers or tiaras, is fixed carefully in loops, on the back, one of the ballerinas throwing in the last minute a rarefy cloud of fixing spray over the escaped hair.
In the other corner of the room with big mirrors, which became small because of the rush, a dancer is preparing her feet for the pointes. Those ballet shoes which are going to help her elevate lightly her body, on the top of her legs stretched like needles. She is covering each toe in band to protect it from the shoes "teeth".
Ballerina's feet are the most affected by dancing, the shoes with dull tops giving strong aches to those who wear them.

“The way you learn to tie your shoe-strings…”

The time passes away like a shadow covered by the rush of the dancers who are starting to warm up behind the scene or on the stage, far away of beholders eyes, hidden of the curious sights by the closed curtain. Near by, a girl is tying up her ballet shoes in a very special way. She is looking somehow surprised, to me, when I’m asking her about the technique that seems so complicated. “You learn to tie up your ballet shoes the same way you learn to tie your shoe-strings” she is telling me, while is jumping her feet to run on the stage where is starting to practice a complicate movement.
Before the show, there is a high solidarity between the dancers, no matter they are prime dancers or not. In these moments all left is the vivid emotion, and so thick that you could cut it by knife. “Good luck!”, “God help you! Be beautiful!” I hear somewhere in the left, and the reply: “Good luck to you, too! I will not let myself!” They are hugging each other, sustaining each other, because now, in these moments, there is nothing else left. The mind, the talent and all the practice are the only things that matter, the stubborn body being kept submissive, almost by force. “I am sweated already”, I hear again, while in the other world, of the bystanders, the dance lovers are taking place on their sits.

The show of the backstage

In the backstage there is a strange smell. A combination difficult to define, which, even it has nothing from this, has everything together. It’s taking in just one molecule: dust, paint, wood, tissue, in unknown quantities. Like a magic potion. A specific smell that can’t be taken as something else, which once you’ve experienced is coming back to life from the corner of the memory, each time you get close to other stage and other backstage.
The space is tight, closed between the black wings of the curtains. Here I’m trying to find a place. I’m picking up a chair “forgotten” near the entrance of the stage, having a pretty good perspective over the place and sitting there. I make myself little, almost invisible, to not disturb the dancers.
The show starts.
Near the scene, you can’t see well because of the stage lights, which flood the place in light. The back stages are empty now. Between the stage lights lengthening their necks to watch their colleagues, you can find now only the dancers that are going to perform in the next minutes. Some of them calm, others agitated still warming up. Near me, a small Japanese, sitting down and dressed in tutu, is applauding together with the public. But she is doing it in silent, without sound.
A few meters away, on stage, the pas-de-deux gives wings to dancers. He flies in high and spectacular jumps, defying the earth, the nature and the gravity, seeming like hiding air in his bones, while she is guiding with her mind and soul each foot stretching or finger’s wince. Nothing is left on chance’s mercy. Not a centimeter or millimeter of their bodies. Cause the classical dancing is built on rules left unchanged for at least one hundred years. There, on stage, the dancers are not human beings anymore. They can lift up over the weaknesses that human nature has. They control with an iron will the arms, the legs, the tiredness, the lack of air they feel sometimes…And they smile, are sad, or happy as the role “asks”, the fight with themselves taking place inside them, not in front of the public.
Only in the moment when, with the applause of the public, they are going out of stage, they become human again, letting themselves collapsing. Cause after a long dancing a ballerina fell of her feet in the backstage. “Breathe deeply!”, “It’s all right, don’t get upset now” I’m hearing them telling each other, while the dancers who presented already to the public, breathing interrupted have their forehead, the face, the arms and the back covered in sweat drops that fall on the indifferently floor.
Some of them are coming out happy, thanking their partners, others, gnashing their teeth of anger, for getting lost one of the music measurements, for making an um-perfect pirouette or for mistaking one arabesque.

A sight from a closed world

The second part of Ballet Gala found me sitting in public, away from this closed world of dancers, which doesn’t allow anything to get out. From this perspective, I can’t see nor the effort, nor the sweat. I can see only that unbelievable easiness and serene faces that are making everything seem simple, as simple as a brick game. ]]> rainy-day http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=133 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=90 Thu, 02 Apr 2009 17:53:06 GMT Last week I met an old friend, Clive, for lunch. We hadn’t seen eachother for over fifteen years. He had done well for himself. A lovely house with... Last week I met an old friend, Clive, for lunch. We hadn’t seen eachother for over fifteen years. He had done well for himself. A lovely house with land in the country, a number of non-executive company directorships and a large retirement plan waiting to keeping him in a lifestyle akin to those with second homes in the south of France. He also had a couple of racehorses in training.

During our lunch, Clive told me that one of his horses was due to run soon. The horse’s name was “Nom de Plume”. He was in excellent shape, and expected to win. The colours of his silks are white with a purple cross belt, or plum if for no practical reason you happen to refer all colours under the sun to some kind of fruit. Clive told me to keep an eye out for his race entry in the sporting papers over the next few days.

Two days ago, it was Saturday, and racing was broadcast on national television. I saw in the sporting section of my paper that Nom de Plume was running. The race was due to start in fifteen minutes, so I dashed out of the house and down the street to the betting shop to stake my wager. I charged into the betting shop, and glanced frantically around the screens to eventually find the race preview being done by the programme presenters, and the horses circling around at the start waiting to be sent off on their run.

Looking at the horses walking round, I spotted the white colours with a purple cross belt, saw the number eight on the saddle cloth, and hurriedly wrote the number on a betting slip, with my wager. The cashier accepted my betting slip just as the horses were off.

In the last couple of furlongs, I could hear the commentator making reference to Nom de Plume going well, but on the screen, the white with purple cross belt was going backwards, and being completely overtaken by the rest of the field. At the line, the commentator advised “Number twelve, Nom de Plume, wins by six lengths”. Was I watching the right race! Is it Saturday! Am I awake or is this just a dream! The winner’s silks resembled a pale blue with dusty red cross belt. But as sure as I was standing in a betting shop, the white with purple cross belt trailed in at a canter fifteen seconds later, wagging the tail of the entire field.

In true English fashion, I disguised my angst by replicating an exemplary and nonchalant dignity. With a look of pure innocence, and trying to whistle ‘Fly me to the moon’ very dryly, I casually walked out the betting establishment trying to resemble a disinterested browsing shopper.

That evening, I telephoned Clive:-

Clive clearly under the influence and with a resounding chirp in his voice:-

“Made a nice packet today. Hope you had some on him aswell.”

In order to avoid sounding like a complete idiot, I nonchalantly snorted:-

“No I didn’t have a bet. Couldn’t get to a betting shop in time. Such is life. But well done with the win. However, I couldn’t help but notice, as I watched the race on television, that the white with purple cross belt finished plum last.”

Clive still upbeat, paused a second then recoiled. He knew. He definitely knew:-

“Ah, the colours you were watching probably belong to Gerald. They are similar to mine, but the cross belt is black. But funny you should mention it, I did notice that my colours were a bit off tone.....

........... The stable staff told me that the silks had been boil-washed the day before with a load of blues.”

End. ]]> statajack http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=90 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=81 Sat, 17 Jan 2009 21:21:12 GMT as a person catalogued by society as "single" who passed away slowly by the first youth (:becky:) I'm thinking about the best place for "picking up" my mate. because the days when the dogs were walking around with our mates in their tales passed away some time ago, we should follow the example of our ancestors and start hunting for fresh flesh :becky:

hunting, hunting, but where (you'd say), because we don't live in amazonian jungle and we lost our instincts and minds, together with them.

i think, when you are thinking to make a new "acquisition", you have to think how you'd like the prey to be.

if you want your half's neurons wear a skin t-shirt or a short dress, then you should go to a club. there you have some chances, that's true, to find interesting people who didnt have soemthing better to do than going to disco exactly in that evening, but usually the people you can find there are different. nice girls who are looking for old guys who's accounts didnt pass through any diet, and "smart", cool boys who think they can have anyone with a ferrary's toy key on their house keys.

if you want someone for your house, then you take your best clothes (as i could see some people are doing) and you go to supermarket or to mall. in this case the advantage is that you can see what your possible mate eats, if she/he cooks, if she/he wash himself, only with a sight in their shopping basket. and you can slip in front of them or drop your shopping bags. by mistake, of course.

when the expectations are bigger than a home cooked dinner or than lost nights in the city and you want an intellectual, then you leave your crazy friends to go by themselves to partys, and you start visiting the theatre and philharmonic. even the snobbery goes freely there, you have the biggest chances to find a person with the brain and mind in the right place.

ah, and there is something more: destiny's hand, or to use more words, waiting for the right guy who will be dropped by the fate in your face when you least expect.

what am i going to do? I will go on providence's hand and judging about all the crazy things that jump into my face, i will find for sure my masculine variant. all i can hope is to not find him in a hospital, when we will be both 80, after we had a bile crisis. ]]> rainy-day http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=81 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=80 Sat, 17 Jan 2009 18:18:00 GMT in the past I used to dream that I was flying...

almost each of the nights I was staying on house's roofs, hanging my heels on the weak spouts to not fall when i was losing my balance. It was so good to know that, when a shadow was lugging after me, all I had to do was to stir up my arms, to raise...up...in the sky.

I used to imagine that I was a big dove who forgot his wings in the theatre's wardrobe.

it seem that the "fault" for my dreams was my passion for dancing (that I still have), but i can't stop wonder what stops me from flying, now...

maybe too much reality, maybe the fact that i estranged myself from my childhood or from moving my arms.

today i don't fly anymore...the dream broked down and I lost my wings somewhere on my way, while I've been busy to build my life and future.

and exactly as my dream forgot how to raise me up in the sky, a small piece of me leave away each day to search my wings... ]]> rainy-day http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=80 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=77 Sat, 20 Dec 2008 01:29:56 GMT Just a few one liners for the guys: Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beer Holder. -The girl I had last night sure cant wrestle, but you should see... Just a few one liners for the guys:

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beer Holder.

-The girl I had last night sure cant wrestle, but you should see her box!

-A woman's mind is cleaner than a man's - That's because she changes it more often.

-Women should have labels on their foreheads saying, 'Government Health Warning: Women can
seriously damage your brains, genitals, bank account, confidence, and good standing among your
friends.

-Love is the delusion that one woman differs from another.
-
99 percent of bar girls give the rest a bad name.

-Girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere.
-
Youv'e been a bad girl, go straight to my room!

-A Nymphomaniac is a women as obsessed with sex as the average man.

-Women should be obscene and not heard.

-I believe that sex is a beautiful thing between two people. Between five, it's fantastic!
-
The big difference between sex for money and sex for free is that sex for money costs less ]]> bobbyd http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=77 http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=73 Thu, 04 Dec 2008 20:52:16 GMT the smell woke him up in the middle of the night, exactly when he was doing his beauty sleep. how else could he keep in shape his arms long and thin... the smell woke him up in the middle of the night, exactly when he was doing his beauty sleep. how else could he keep in shape his arms long and thin as tiny plys?

ah and this happened while he was dreaming about that comfy cloud who just started sifting some white sugar over the sponge cakes just taken out of the stove, together with theyr cheek scarred by warmth.

and even he would have loved to sleep longer he couldn't resist to tempting thougt to open wide his nostrils as big as three mouths. this was the only way to luxuriate into that cinamon aroma lost somewhere outside...

the smell woke him up, together with the chirp of his sleepy old watch, because something inside his soul with long iced eyelashes whispered him that he has to go

...to be free... ]]> rainy-day http://www.gogabber.com/blog.php?b=73