Hope it’s the fresh stuff. I hate that microwaved garbage that most places serve
Maggie’s Motivational Pic Thread v2.0 - - New Rules - See Post #1
- Thread starter Snake-Eyes
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- motivational pictures
ah, not so much now...
And ^^^^^ that right there is why you'll never get laid.
You have no idea what a woman actually looks like without photoshop.
it and all the spinoffs still availableThe original was black, some time in the 50s or 60s the alternate "brave" version was released.
I think the black version is still in print somewhere.
- Mar 15, 2018
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One of my earliest and fondest childhood memories is my Mom reading me that book. I absolutely loved it and was telling my Daughter-in-law, literally yesterday, about it. If you have a source for the original let me know, I want to get it for my Grandson.
Awfully damn dusty in here right now…
Looks like probably the same story, but different title. This was the one I remember.
And Little Black Sambo was also Indian. No Bengal tigers in Africa as far as I know. But I'm just here for the tits.
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Dang it, I was just coming back to take my guess.
The little blue bracelet provides a clue.
Search it. There’s a market for just about any out of print book. I’ve purchased very esoteric out-of-print titles online. Price varies considerably based upon demand and availability.
But didja touch tips? Inquiring minds need to know.
If you don’t show up, you don’t get to find out.
A veteran is someone who, at one point, wrote a blank check made payable to ‘The United States of America’ for an amount of up to and including his or her life.
THAT IS HONOR, AND THERE ARE TOO MANY PEOPLE IN THIS COUNTRY WHO NO LONGER UNDERSTAND IT.
yes. have sold many books in past. when i see FS 10 years later i am shocked at prices asked. nature,mausers,schutzhund,history are some i know of. "friends of library" type sales can produce but are always a packed with people rat screw around here.
This hurts the Heart!!
MY FIRST NOTIFICATION…………
My third or fourth day in Norfolk, I was notified of the death of a 19 year old Marine. This notification came by telephone from Headquarters Marine Corps. The information detailed:
*Name, rank, and serial number.
*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.
*Date of and limited details about the Marine’s death.
*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.
*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.
The boy’s family lived over the border in North Carolina, about 60 miles away. I drove there in a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into North Carolina , I stopped at a small country store / service station / Post Office. I went in to ask directions.
Three people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The Store owner walked up and addressed them by name, “Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper.”
I was stunned. My casualty’s next-of-kin’s name was John Cooper!
I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, “I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address.)
The father looked at me – I was in uniform – and then, shaking, bent at the waist, he vomited. His wife looked horrified at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion.
I think I caught her before she hit the floor.
The owner took a bottle of whiskey out of a drawer and handed it to Mr. Cooper who drank. I answered their questions for a few minutes. Then I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed an hour or so until the family began arriving.
I returned the store owner to his business. He thanked me and said, “Mister, I wouldn’t have your job for a million dollars.” I shook his hand and said; “Neither would I.”
I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk. Violating about five Marine Corps regulations, I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family while they ate dinner, went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night, alone.
My Marines steered clear of me for days. I had made my first death notification
MY FIRST NOTIFICATION…………
My third or fourth day in Norfolk, I was notified of the death of a 19 year old Marine. This notification came by telephone from Headquarters Marine Corps. The information detailed:
*Name, rank, and serial number.
*Name, address, and phone number of next of kin.
*Date of and limited details about the Marine’s death.
*Approximate date the body would arrive at the Norfolk Naval Air Station.
*A strong recommendation on whether the casket should be opened or closed.
The boy’s family lived over the border in North Carolina, about 60 miles away. I drove there in a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into North Carolina , I stopped at a small country store / service station / Post Office. I went in to ask directions.
Three people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The Store owner walked up and addressed them by name, “Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper.”
I was stunned. My casualty’s next-of-kin’s name was John Cooper!
I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, “I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address.)
The father looked at me – I was in uniform – and then, shaking, bent at the waist, he vomited. His wife looked horrified at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion.
I think I caught her before she hit the floor.
The owner took a bottle of whiskey out of a drawer and handed it to Mr. Cooper who drank. I answered their questions for a few minutes. Then I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed an hour or so until the family began arriving.
I returned the store owner to his business. He thanked me and said, “Mister, I wouldn’t have your job for a million dollars.” I shook his hand and said; “Neither would I.”
I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk. Violating about five Marine Corps regulations, I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family while they ate dinner, went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night, alone.
My Marines steered clear of me for days. I had made my first death notification
