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Some stories are incredible boring because we heard them many times in our lives. Well, that’s true if You are non-artistic, less emotional and pure money-business individual. But, if you have high enough level of senses for the art of living, than you know the fact, that every story has its thousand points of view, thousand smiles and thousand tears. Mine is, probably, one of the already-told stories, so it’s up to you to stop reading NOW or to continue… Don’t say I didn’t warn you on time…

My name is Zoran and I’m 29 years old, from far away country. So far away, that people here needs internet and all modern communication devices to feel connected with the World. No, no, no, I’ve …

Alot of love stories have been written, told and ellaborated. Mine is just one out of a million and thats how it is special. Thats how everyone is special, right? Indeed a stereotype, but who cares, its one of my longest stories.

November 2011,
IGCSE's were supposed to be very soon. Too soon. But i couldnt focus. English as first language seemed as my 3rd language. Nothing was coming in. I was dozing the class away until the end of class. One of the most boring classes i ever attended because one of my friends got a peptalk, again. After rushing our of class i first noticed her walking down stairs. Yes, for quite a while ive known her. But never so strange i …

Last summer, I broke a cardinal rule of parenting – never take the kids to the pet store. In some ways it’s worse than taking them into a toy store. There is just as much pleading and bargaining, but what you find yourself going home with eats, pees and stays with you sometimes long after the kids move out.

My moment of weakness came from wanting to save time and gas. The kids and I were in a store next door when I remembered I needed an aerator for the fish tank. I should have thought twice about it. For weeks, my son Brendan (who was 9 at the time) had been pleading for a pet to call his own. The dog and cat, …

What did you expect? A transformation, a rekindling of passion, an open-ended agreement without consequences, all orchestrated in your mind to serve all your needs favorably?

When has life ever been so finely etched, so accommodating, so easy?

Oh, there have been moment of elation -- very few -- fleeting and breathless. But they've never been able to be sustained.

The way forward, the only direction to travel toward, has always been frought with uncertainty.

And yet, despite trepeditation, despite anxiety, despite awkwardness, misspent energies, dashed hopes, pesky reminiscences of failures -- one plunges forward.

There is no where else to turn except to one's self, one's own resources, for solace and strength.

A few days before the new year my grandmother told me about an exchange I had with her when I was a little boy, and I was stunned by her words. I was stunned by how little I had changed in all these years and by how that miniature me seemed to know who I was in a way that had been lost to the man hugging his grandma goodbye in a parking lot.

Maybe it's a side effect of becoming a thirty something, but the archives of my childhood seem unusually spare. Just a cloudy stack of 8mm remembrances: My favorite color was green. G.I. Joe was the best damned cartoon on television. And Batman was the go-to Halloween costume, despite that …

I don't remember how or when I met my first best friend. I don't remember if I was in any type of girl scout group as a child. I don't remember the color my room was painted or what my bed looked like. I do remember when my old best friend called me and told me her father was dying. I do remember how two weeks after that she called me and told me her dad suffered a heart attack and died, even though he called an ambulance as soon as he felt the pain. I do remember his funeral. All the black clothes, tear-streaked faces, and black umbrellas.
I remember learning how to ride a bike. I learned at a camp ground about …

Dr. Ruben was my Dr. when I was young, real young. I’m still afraid of shots like I was back then, but I’m through collecting hamsters. Ruben’s office was in Beverly Hills back when Beverly Hills 90210 had still not premiered on Television. It was also back when Beverly Hills did not mean much to me except for a place with good ice cream and a doctor’s office that had weird machines for my eye and ear check-ups.

The ear exam was my favorite. Ruben would put this thing in my ear that looked like the snout of a hamster and I would need to be very quiet so that I could listen to the noises that it made. I would close my eyes …

Today I am living in Lahore Cant, Pakistan. I am originally from a traditional and restricted culture. But I have lived an exceptional life in Paris for more than ten years with my husband - an artist and documentary filmmaker. I and Rufi lived a very liberal life - well actually a liberal sex life. We participated in Parisian private sex parties and exclusive swingers clubs where partners were openly exchanged. Both of us are well-recognized in all these places. If our photographs are shown there, everyone would recognize us immeidiately.
We introduced ourselves in these circles with our nicknames Maria and Rufi... For the first four years we did not have this experience. In the fifth year we went first time in one of …

Synopsis:
A memoir based on actual events and the coming of age of a young Italian boy, growing up in a working class section of Little Italy, with gangsters as role models. He dreams of the day he too will be a gangster. His struggles as a child and young adult determine the person he will become.

By the time he is old enough to get close to his dream; he is facing the draft for the Korean War. It is in the military he begins to awaken to a secret that would prevent him from ever being accepted into any crime family.

After being released from the military …

CHAPTER ONE
IN THE BEGINNING THERE WAS WAR

Most large east coast cities like Portland, Maine, have a Little Italy section. They are mixtures of many ethnic groups, but mainly monopolized by Italians. A small minority of these Italians are gangsters. This is where I grew up, along with my mixed ethnic friends.

As young children we did not see race, color or religion, we saw ourselves as friends, living safely in a protected neighborhood. All the parents looked out for each other’s children, and the gangsters looked out for the entire neighborhood.

Two square miles of a self-contained miniature state within a state. Every conceivable item, from groceries to doctor or lawyer existed here. We had no need to leave the …

CHAPTER TWO
CABIN BOY ON DECK
1947-1951

My favorite place to hang out was the corner drugstore where the Wise Guys congregated. Maybe it was their lifestyle of lots of money without working for it which influenced me.

Liked and trusted by these men, they took me under their wing. They made it possible for me to make more money doing favors for them than I could at an honest job. These men with their piles of cash, fancy suits and cars became my role models. I was determined to live my life the same way.

First I had to grow and learn, and …

I join the navy on June 10, 1983. I went to bootcamp in Orlando, Florida. On October 20, 1983 I reported onboard the USS Nimitz in drydock an the Newport News Shipyard in Newport News Virginia,
Soon I was a regular customer at Lee's Restaurant right outside 33rd Avenue shipyard gate.
Wun and Lee were the owners. Lee once let me run a tab up to fourty-eight dollars Of course he kept reminding me he doesn't let it get that high for everyone.
During their busy times I would help behind the counter. I have never been back to Lee's Restaurant since the Nimitz left the shipyard.
I will never forget the …

"A+B=C." I can still hear the perfect penmanship and assertive intuition of his ball point pen. He sat there, studying me. I could hear his thoughts smudged with my own insecurities: "She can't do this. Genetically something is wrong."

Years later, I found the textbook. It was inscribed:
"1989. Your grandfather loves you."
He had never told me. I had not been wise enough to ask. I may have hated algebra, but I loved him.

When I think of a marigold, I think how it is a simple, modest flower. Unlike orchids or other exotics, the marigold is a low-maintenance, hard-working plant that endures direct sunlight with little watering. My father, who loved marigolds, was much the same way: humble, steady, quiet, and hard-working.

Every spring he grew a vegetable and flower garden from “scratch” using seeds, not ready-grown plants. He would plant orange marigolds around the edges of our back porch every spring. Not only did the flowers look pretty, they were useful in repelling mosquitoes that disliked the marigold’s special scent. He would nurture the marigolds throughout the spring and summer and even into the fall.

My father taught at an inner-city elementary …

What a waste of a man or woman's life, with the opiate of the masses, or the carnality of the married, leading single people into temptation, with the supply and demand of "mind rot" pornography. You think it might be like the story of the Pharisee and the Publican, but you got it wrong. It's the married that buy into this filth and attempt to ensnare the single person with "unworthiness" and "servitude." I heard on Christian radio, 50% of married Christians masturbate to pornography, some wise-crack in the spirit said: "imagine how many single people do" being infiltrated by supply and demand rapists of Onanism. This photographic "naked art" is foolishness for the un-controlled mind. There is no …

Yet more than a $100 Trillion dollar idea! Thank God for a dying planet? With Seven Billion people on thee Earth, there is a job for everyone in "biodiversity." The diverse species in the "ecosphere" are all on the verge of extinction. There is jobs for all of us, for at least a century, that balance thee economy, while balancing thee ecosphere. It's really a fascinating concept, like the Oriental duck ponds, and the bio-lab once in Arizona, to the International Space Station. We have most of the planet and our atmosphere on the endangered species list. In our use of food stuffs and consumer products, what we use in one year, takes two years to replace, approximately. …

"The restoration of all things, is about to take place." You figure I'm all tapped out from my blogs today, and the light of dawn is a new day to manifest a notion of an $100 Trillion dollar idea for mankind? We have restored the Pyramids of Egypt or one of the Seven Wonders of the World. We have rebuilt The World Trade Center as healed an eyesore. I once owned a Fiat convertible as was frugal and stubborn about junking it. It was still salvageable, and I sold the restoration project to an Air Force man and he fulfilled what could have been wasted in rust and dust. But it was returned to working order and refinished. …

I mentioned to you when you were indulging in rest and relaxation on your Bermuda cruises, that if you instead invested in land in the Catskills your flock could afford a simple American Dream. Let me please reiterate to you the plan to have a humble mortgage free homestead. Land in the Catskills can go for about a $1,000.00 dollars an acre, of a wooded lot. First your sheepfold invests in a community property, near some lake or major stream $1000.00 dollars per X amount of acreage. You then sell the scrub wood on the land at about $2,000.00 per acre or lot as firewood, then you truck in $1000.00 dollar 30 foot mobile homes, from upper State New York …

The Basics are: Noah 2 X 2, "The Adventures of Marco Polo" and "Let us turn our swords into plowshares."

To begin I challenge you to come up with a $100 Trillion dollar a day idea:

Here are Two:
First this could make Greece and Spain, France and Italy look like hypocrites. What if this is a vintage year for wine? In 50 years, at a million bottles, of 100 vineyards at $1000.00 dollars a whack equals for the future $100 Trillion dollars. "No wine before it's time."

Then I did the math for the 118 mile per gallon Honda automobile and on average, would equal a 30 mpg auto would be for a $1 …

This 100 Trillion dollar idea is old, yet needs to be explained to you how it works. Once computers were $4,000.00 dollars a piece, a few years later HDTV's were $4,000.00 dollars a piece, until they both were "mass-produced" bringing the price down to about $500.00 dollars a piece. Today it costs $50,000.00 dollars to be "off the grid" with solar panels, with a rebate from Uncle Sam of $25,000.00 dolllars, leaving after the initial cost of $50 Grand a $25 Grand bill to be independent. Suppose now, like The US Treasury, or The US Postal Service, that Uncle Sam mass produced the solar panels? It would be $25,000.00 dollars, divided by the cost of the computers at $500.00 and the …
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