B Mike Quotes

Winston, how’s she going b’y?” asked Herb in the familiar Newfoundland greeting. Windflower gave the appropriate response. “She’s going good, b’y.

Since the beginning of the world, a prayer is a prayer and a curse is a curse-- no matter the people-- no matter the language-- Man has given a thousand different namesto his god, but look into the face of each one-- long enough-- hard enough-- You will find one truth.

You still want that little secret to stay secret?” “You wouldn’t.” “You’re right, I wouldn’t. Not unless I heard you talked. In which case, all bets would be off.” “You’re a fucking bastard, Nick. I thought you were better than—” “I’m a paid killer, Mike. What the fuck were you expecting?

5. Television is of great educational value. It teaches you while still really young how to (a) kill, (b) rob, (c) embezzle, (d) shoot, (e) poison, and generally speaking, (f) how to grow up into a Wild West outlaw or gangster by the time you leave school. 6. Television puts a stop to crime because all the burglars and robbers, instead of going to burgle and rob, sit at home watching The Lone Ranger, Emergency Ward Ten and Dotto.

The day that science figures out how to let a human photosynthesize will be the happiest day of Mike’s life, and even then he’ll sunbathe in a parking lot to make sure he isn’t depriving the grass of their fair share.)

If only marriage licenses came with a buyer's remorse clause. ~Detective Mike Malone

Wife number three: Lynette. She looked like a horse and kind of walked like one, too. Not surprisingly, neigh was her favorite word and seven nights a week. ~Detective Mike Malone

I'm sure this is a diversionary ploy. But that doesn't mean it isn't real." -Abe Sapien

d rather have people think people I'm stupid and shock them than have people think I'm smart and disappoint them.

Death is complicated." -Johann Kraus

Mike Burry didn’t own any triple-B-rated subprime mortgage bonds, or anything like them. He had no property to “insure”; it was as if he had bought fire insurance on some slum with a history of burning down.

A - ALPHA B - BRAVO C - CHARLIE D - DELTA E - ECHO F - FOXTROT G - GOLF H - HOTEL I - INDIA J - JULIETT K - KILO L - LIMA M - MIKE N - NOVEMBER O - OSCAR P - PAPA Q - QUEBEC R - ROMEO S - SIERRA T - TANGO U - UNIFORM V - VICTOR W - WHISKEY       X - X-RAY Y - YANKEE Z - ZULU

In this recording, she’s just accused by one of her best friends of plotting to murder her husband, who was in fact murdered, and she never says, ‘Oh no I didn’t.’ What she says is, ‘Wait, Marcus is involved?’” Fuchs urged jurors to listen to the entire audio recording between Denise and Kathy because “it lays out this entire case without Brian.

Even the judge who ruled in Wilkes’s case that general warrants were invalid found fame and admiration in America. Soon after his decision in Wilkes’s case, Lord Chief Justice Pratt inherited the title Lord Camden. As in Camden, New Jersey. And Camden, South Carolina. And the B&O Railroad’s Camden Station, on whose rail yards was later built the home of the Baltimore Orioles—Camden Yards.

What has been Extinction Rebellion’s magic? It boils down to values, processes, role modelling, positivity and fast learning. Most importantly for me, XR has been a loud advocate of the three core values I call for in this book. In the London protests of April 2019, you could hear the tannoys reminding supporters to respect everyone: the authorities; the government; the public; each other; the oil companies; EVERYONE. In surreal scenes on Waterloo Bridge, the police were caught visibly off balance by the tide chanting: ‘To the police, we love you. We’re doing this for your children’, as the police carried people away to their vans. Of course, as XR’s name suggests, they stand overtly for the preservation of all species. And they made a very strong call for truth. At its best, XR gave us a taste of a better world. They

There was more than one way to think about Mike Burry’s purchase of a billion dollars in credit default swaps. The first was as a simple, even innocent, insurance contract. Burry made his semiannual premium payments and, in return, received protection against the default of a billion dollars’ worth of bonds. He’d either be paid zero, if the triple-B-rated bonds he’d insured proved good, or a billion dollars, if those triple-B-rated bonds went bad. But of course Mike Burry didn’t own any triple-B-rated subprime mortgage bonds, or anything like them. He had no property to “insure” it was as if he had bought fire insurance on some slum with a history of burning down. To him, as to Steve Eisman, a credit default swap wasn’t insurance at all but an outright speculative bet against the market—and this was the second way to think about it.

Heritage dot org, May 5, 2021 Purging Whiteness To Purge Capitalism By Mike Gonzalez and Jonathan Butcher KEY TAKEAWAYS 1. CRT [Critical Race Theory] theorists see capitalism’s disparities as a function of race, not class. Capitalism, all the leading CRT proponents believe, is therefore “racist.” 2. CRT intellectuals are trying to change the view that racism is an individual issue, and insist it is systemic, in order to get society to change the entire system. 3. The purpose of the CRT training programs, and the curricula, is now to create enough bad associations with the white race. Race is suddenly all the rage. Employees, students, and parents are being inundated with “anti-racism” training programs and school curricula that insist America was built on white supremacy. Anyone who raises even the slightest objection is often deemed irredeemably racist. But what if the impetus behind a particular type of race-based training programs and curricula we see spreading at the moment is not exclusively, or even primarily, about skin color? What if race is just a façade for a particular strain of thought? What if what stands behind all this is the old, color-blind utopian dream of uniting the “workers of the world,” and eradicating capitalism? … If this all sounds very Marxist, it should. All the giants in whiteness studies, from Noel Ignatiev, to David Roediger, to their ideological lodestar, W.E.B. Du Bois—who first coined the term “whiteness” to begin with—were Marxist. In the cases of Ignatiev and Du Bois, they were actual Communist Party members.

Cochise Jones always liked to play against your expectations of a song, to light the gloomy heart of a ballad with a Latin tempo and a sheen of vibrato, root out the hidden mournfulness, the ache of longing, in an up-tempo pop tune. Cochise’s six-minute outing on the opening track of Redbonin’ was a classic exercise in B-3 revisionism, turning a song inside out. It opened with big Gary King playing a fat, choogling bass line, sounding like the funky intro to some ghetto-themed sitcom of the seventies, and then Cochise Jones came in, the first four drawbars pulled all the way out, giving the Lloyd Webber melody a treatment that was not cheery so much as jittery, playing up the anxiety inherent in the song’s title, there being so many thousand possible ways to Love Him, so little time to choose among them. Cochise’s fingers skipped and darted as if the keys of the organ were the wicks of candles and he was trying to light all of them with a single match. Then, as Idris Muhammad settled into a rolling burlesque-hall bump and grind, and King fell into step beside him, Cochise began his vandalism in earnest, snapping off bright bunches of the melody and scattering it in handfuls, packing it with extra notes in giddy runs. He was ruining the song, rifling it, mocking it with an antic edge of joy. You might have thought, some critics felt, that the meaning or spirit of the original song meant no more to Cochise Jones than a poem means to a shark that is eating the poet. But somewhere around the three-minute mark, Cochise began to build, in ragged layers, out of a few repeated notes on top of a left-hand walking blues, a solo at once dense and rudimentary, hammering at it, the organ taking on a raw, vox humana hoarseness, the tune getting bluer and harder and nastier. Inside the perfectly miked Leslie amplifier, the treble horn whirled, and the drivers fired, and you heard the song as the admission of failure it truly was, a confession of ignorance and helplessness. And then in the last measures of the song, without warning, the patented Creed Taylor strings came in, mannered and restrained but not quite tasteful. A hint of syrup, a throb of the pathetic, in the face of which the drums and bass fell silent, so that in the end it was Cochise Jones and some rented violins, half a dozen mournful studio Jews, and then the strings fell silent, too, and it was just Mr. Jones, fading away, ending the track with the startling revelation that the song was an apology, an expression, such as only the blues could ever tender, of limitless regret.

He removed his hand from his worn, pleasantly snug jeans…and it held something small. Holy Lord, I said to myself. What in the name of kingdom come is going on here? His face wore a sweet, sweet smile. I stood there completely frozen. “Um…what?” I asked. I could formulate no words but these. He didn’t respond immediately. Instead he took my left hand in his, opened up my fingers, and placed a diamond ring onto my palm, which was, by now, beginning to sweat. “I said,” he closed my hand tightly around the ring. “I want you to marry me.” He paused for a moment. “If you need time to think about it, I’ll understand.” His hands were still wrapped around my knuckles. He touched his forehead to mine, and the ligaments of my knees turned to spaghetti. Marry you? My mind raced a mile a minute. Ten miles a second. I had three million thoughts all at once, and my heart thumped wildly in my chest. Marry you? But then I’d have to cut my hair short. Married women have short hair, and they get it fixed at the beauty shop. Marry you? But then I’d have to make casseroles. Marry you? But then I’d have to wear yellow rubber gloves to do the dishes. Marry you? As in, move out to the country and actually live with you? In your house? In the country? But I…I…I don’t live in the country. I don’t know how. I can’t ride a horse. I’m scared of spiders. I forced myself to speak again. “Um…what?” I repeated, a touch of frantic urgency to my voice. “You heard me,” Marlboro Man said, still smiling. He knew this would catch me by surprise. Just then my brother Mike laid on the horn again. He leaned out of the window and yelled at the top of his lungs, “C’mon! I am gonna b-b-be late for lunch!” Mike didn’t like being late. Marlboro Man laughed. “Be right there, Mike!” I would have laughed, too, at the hilarious scene playing out before my eyes. A ring. A proposal. My developmentally disabled and highly impatient brother Mike, waiting for Marlboro Man to drive him to the mall. The horn of the diesel pickup. Normally, I would have laughed. But this time I was way, way too stunned. “I’d better go,” Marlboro Man said, leaning forward and kissing my cheek. I still grasped the diamond ring in my warm, sweaty hand. “I don’t want Mike to burst a blood vessel.” He laughed out loud, clearly enjoying it all. I tried to speak but couldn’t. I’d been rendered totally mute. Nothing could have prepared me for those ten minutes of my life. The last thing I remember, I’d awakened at eleven. Moments later, I was hiding in my bathroom, trying, in all my early-morning ugliness, to avoid being seen by Marlboro Man, who’d dropped by unexpectedly. Now I was standing on the front porch, a diamond ring in my hand. It was all completely surreal. Marlboro Man turned to leave. “You can give me your answer later,” he said, grinning, his Wranglers waving good-bye to me in the bright noonday sun. But then it all came flashing across my line of sight. The boots in the bar, the icy blue-green eyes, the starched shirt, the Wranglers…the first date, the long talks, my breakdown in his kitchen, the movies, the nights on his porch, the kisses, the long drives, the hugs…the all-encompassing, mind-numbing passion I felt. It played frame by frame in my mind in a steady stream. “Hey,” I said, walking toward him and effortlessly sliding the ring on my finger. I wrapped my arms around his neck as his arms, instinctively, wrapped around my waist and raised me off the ground in our all-too-familiar pose. “Yep,” I said effortlessly. He smiled and hugged me tightly. Mike, once again, laid on the horn, oblivious to what had just happened. Marlboro Man said nothing more. He simply kissed me, smiled, then drove my brother to the mall.

own independent exhibition, marketing it as an American Salon des Refusés. In February 1908 eight painters showcased their work at the Macbeth Galleries. The Eight, as critic James Huneker baptized them, included Henri, Sloan, Glackens, Luks, and Shinn—the Philadelphia Five—and three others, stylistically different but equally determined to crack open NAD’s restrictive practices: symbolist Arthur B. Davies (who was well wired into wealthy New York collector circles), Impressionist/realist Ernest Lawson, and Postimpressionist Maurice Prendergast. (Davies and Lawson had been among the blackballed in 1907.)

For men, score an “A” if your IGF-1 is in the range 150 ng/ml ± 20 (higher is dangerous), total testosterone is above 500 ng/dl, and HDL is above 65 mg/dl. Score a “B” if your IGF-1 is above 125 ng/ml and HDL is above 45 mg/dl. Otherwise a “C.

The distances over which sound can travel underwater are amazing. It is believed that before the proliferation of engine-powered vessels, Antarctic whales could be heard by their Arctic cousins. Such vast ranges are possible partly because sound waves are absorbed far less in water than in air. At 1 kHz, absorption is about 5 dB/km in air (at 30 per cent humidity) but only 0.06 dB/km in seawater. Also, underwater sound waves are much more confined; a noise made in mid-air spreads in all directions, but in the sea the bed and the surface limit vertical spreading.

Introduction This book is devoted to the blessed Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Daily working together as unified Godhead for our best interest. Would be incomplete without Jesus direct love bestowed upon me, through a perpetual act of faith in God. Fully trusting Jesus to lead me into a carefully laid-out plan. Dedicating this book to my children: Faith is 6, Christian 11, Christina 12 years old. Izzabella, my niece, is also featured in the story, Sally Saved Three Times. These Children are the inspiration for the characters in the stories. Added some personal experiences acquired during my childhood. Appreciate the support of my Mom, Dad, brother, Jacob, for being here for me the last five years. They helped me through hard circumstances when I needed them the most. Thank You! My second family is at the Erie Wesleyan Methodist Church on the corner of 29th and Liberty. They covered my life with prayer; great friends from the Lord; Supporting me on my journey towards my heavenly home. I am also thankful for Mike Lawrence who encouraged me to keep writing. Thanks, brother! This spectacular close friend of mine wrote the Forward of this book. He is God-given for moral support and prayer. Friends forever from Erie, Pennsylvania! There are scripture references, along with Bible lessons featured in each story. These short stories are ideal for devotions or bedtime stories. Suitable for parents and grandparents to read to children, grandchildren. Forward It is rare today to find Christians who are in love with doing the Lord's service. Many would sit to the side and let others bush-wack the path, but Bryan has always been the one who delights in making the way clear for others. His determination, commitment to producing these writings was encouraging to watch come to fruition. Take time now see for yourself how God is directing these works to provide something sincere, pure, innocent for families to enjoy. A pleasant respite from a sin-sick world. So, please, feel free to find a quiet place today and enjoy them alone or with your family. This body of work calls upon us to take time to be holy. I believe with all my heart that this is the authors intent, the Lord's plan, my hearts prayer that they bless you as much as they have blessed me. May God bless the time and energies sacrificed by the author in its production. Sincerely in Christ, Michael Lawrence. When writing with Shirley Dye on messenger about editing the book, she commented that this book would be a blessing to many people. That is my solemn humble prayer. Short Story Content 1. Mr. B.G. (My Testimony) 2. Trevor Wins Three Times 3. Winning The Man ON Rock-Hill 4. Sally Saved Three Times 5. Jonathan and Family Find God 6. Upright and Prideful Key Text, (Matthew 18:3), “And (Jesus) said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.

These fully grown particles are the “really good” cholesterol we mentioned earlier, and are also known as HDL2b, mature cholesterol, or very large HDL particles.

Three other tests are out there which will perform a Pattern A/Pattern B analysis: Ion Mobility, NMR, and VAP. We prefer them in that order. If your triglycerides are below 100 mg/dl, you are highly likely to be Pattern A, and it is a near certainty if triglycerides are below 75. High Lipoprotein(a), also designated

LDL particle size varies. A predominance of larger ones is called Pattern A, and is a major key to heart health. Pattern B means that primarily smaller LDL particles are present, and this is undesirable.

Three other tests are out there which will perform a Pattern A/Pattern B analysis: Ion Mobility, NMR, and VAP. We prefer them in that order. If your triglycerides are below 100 mg/dl, you are highly likely to be Pattern A, and it is a near certainty if triglycerides are below 75. High Lipoprotein(a), also

ten-thirty in the morning, being free,

Spurned by the upper class, Wood garnered support from the organized workers. Ira B. Davis denounced the Wall Street Democratic renegades, noting that none had objected when the state government bailed out the banks: apparently what was “virtuous in them” was “a crime in Mayor Wood or the workingmen.

* Who do you think of when you hear the word “successful”? “The first people who come to mind are the real heroes of Task Unit Bruiser: Marc Lee, first SEAL killed in Iraq. Mike Monsoor, second SEAL killed in Iraq, posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor after he jumped on a grenade to save three of our other teammates. And finally, Ryan Job, one of my guys [who was] gravely wounded in Iraq, blinded in both eyes, but who made it back to America, was medically retired from the Navy, but who died from complications after the 22nd surgery to repair his wounds. Those guys, those men, those heroes, they lived, and fought, and died like warriors.” * Most-gifted or recommended books? “I think there’s only one book that I’ve ever given and I’ve only given it to a couple people. That’s a book called About Face, by Colonel David H. Hackworth. The other book that I’ve read multiple times is Blood Meridian [by Cormac McCarthy].” * Favorite documentaries? “Restrepo, which I’m sure you’ve seen. [TF: This was co-produced and co-filmed by Sebastian Junger, the next profile.] There is also an hour-long program called ‘A Chance in Hell: The Battle for Ramadi.’” Quick Takes * You walk into a bar. What do you order from the bartender? “Water.” * What does your diet generally look like? “It generally looks like steak.” * What kind of music does Jocko listen to? Two samples: For workouts—Black Flag, My War, side B In general—White Buffalo

Reversing Atherosclerosis - Exercise, HDL, and HDL2b The other side of the equation consists of increasing the amount of HDL and maximizing the percentage of “mature” cholesterol, also called HDL2b.

If your fasting insulin level is below 3, and you are not hypoglycemic, your Personal Sugar Rule is “Eat More Fruit and Starch.” Low insulin prevents the building of new muscle and bone. However, avoid junk. Eat healthy sugar and starch, such as northern fruits (berries, apples, etc.) and potatoes. A daily amount that seems reasonable should be chosen, and glucose and insulin re-measured after a month or so. If you got an “A” in Sugar (insulin is between 3 and 6 µu/dl and fasting glucose below 80 mg/dl), then it is OK to continue eating the amount of sugar, starch, and fruit currently being consumed. The Personal Sugar Rule is “Hold the Line.” However, low quality food, like cereal, should be swapped out for food richer in micronutrients, like northern fruits or potatoes. Breakfast cereals have little in the way of micronutrients beyond what the manufacturer added for “fortification.” If you got a “B” (insulin is between 6 and 12, and fasting glucose below 90) , then a reduction in sugar, starch, and fruit is called for. The Personal Sugar Rule here is “Reduce the Fruit, Sugar, and Starch.” If you got a “C” (insulin is over 12 or fasting glucose is over 90, all sugar, starch, and fruit should be cut. The Personal Sugar Rule is “Fruit, Sugar, and Starch Are Forbidden.” This is a pre-diabetic condition, or worse. If these have already been cut and the numbers are still high, then more meat should be added and vegetables cut further. Dietary fat, including saturated fat, is ad libitum—all you want.

But Rao’s sauce, as always, saved the day. Jesse had long since stopped calling it gravy, what his Italian mother had called it when he was growing up, and it had so often been just the two of them eating like this at the kitchen table.

We’d be fools not to.

I had managed to live this long not knowing any Russians, not really, and yet now my life was crawling with them, like I was an election they wanted to hack.

By producing its merchandise in Europe, Zara spent about 15 percent more on labor than its rivals did by manufacturing in low-cost labor markets.11 But the slightly higher manufacturing cost was more than offset by other benefits. Mike Shearwood, managing director of Zara UK, explained why: “The extra margin is superior because there is no wastage, no markdowns, and no problem of getting a collection wrong.

Her shit, Jesse liked to tell himself, had finally come in.

Key Apache Adversaries—U.S. Military Figures and Civilian Apache Agents Clum, John P.—born 1851. Civilian Apache agent at the San Carlos and Fort Apache reservations. Nicknamed “Turkey Gobbler” by the Apache for his strutting nature. Later became mayor of Tombstone, Arizona. His claim to fame was being the only person to successfully “capture” Geronimo. Died in 1932. Crook, General George—born 1828. Called America’s “greatest Indian fighter.” He was the first to use Indian scouts and was crucial in ending the Apache Wars. Called Nantan Lupan (“the Tan Wolf”) by the Apache, he advocated for Apache rights while at the same time becoming one of Geronimo’s greatest adversaries. Crook negotiated Geronimo’s “surrender” at the Cañon de los Embudos. He died in 1890. Gatewood, Lieutenant Charles B.—born 1853. A latecomer to the Apache Wars, Gatewood used scouts but failed to bring in Victorio. However, Gatewood would ultimately negotiate the terms of Geronimo’s final surrender to General Nelson A. Miles in 1886. He died in 1896. Miles, General Nelson A.—born in 1839. Civil War veteran best known for accepting Geronimo’s final surrender. Fought Sioux and Cheyenne Indians after the Battle of Little Big Horn. He died at the age of eighty-five in 1925 and was buried with full honors at Arlington National Cemetery. Sieber, Al—born 1843. A German-American, he served as the army’s chief of scouts during the Apache Wars. Died in 1907.

had already chopped the mushrooms and onions before she arrived, sautéed them until they were soft, and had them cool. Now I was ready to mix them in with the ground turkey and bread crumbs, one egg, salt, pepper, and just a splash of Worcestershire sauce before carefully making the patties. I always made extra

Ava Gardner was marketed as as ‘Hollywood’s most irresistible female’ and although Sinatra’s star was fading he remained an instantly recognisable name – and the two made explosive headlines across newspapers and magazines around the world. With the urging of his agents and the heavy hand of the MGM studios on his shoulders, Sinatra feebly tried to keep the affair secret. For him, his marriage was over, but Nancy Sinatra would not grant her husband a release. He chased Ava Gardner as if his life depended on it. The Mob told him to calm it but did not sanction him. Louis B. Mayer who was watching the reputation of his prime asset, Ava Gardner, be trashed, bought out Sinatra’s MGM contract a year early.