Thoughts on Remembrance day

In no way is this disrespecting the troops.

Remembrance day is an emotional time, even for saps like me who've never known anyone in or even remotely close to serving in combat overseas. I got choked up a few times during the Pembroke ceremony this morning, so I can't even imagine how the third of the people in the room standing when the MC asked them to stand if they'd ever served or been related to someone serving in the Canadian military felt.

Nor can I imagine how it must've felt to be Sgt. Sherry Lynn Rodgers, a member of the Canadian military for 20 years. She's served in Bosnia, Kosovo, Sierra Leonne and Afghanistan. She served as a medic, where everyday she cared for people with severed limbs and fatal wounds. Nobody knows the gruesome reality of war better than she does. Obviously, the day was an emotional one for her, sitting behind Jamie Bramburger as he did his best to honour the brave men and women of the military, she wept throughout the ceremony.

And I don't blame her for doing so. How can remembrance day not evoke emotion in her? More than likely, she's seen people die. Like, actually seen somebody die. Not just watched somebody die on tv, not seen somebody go off and never come back. Not just stood on a bridge and watched as a parade of cars pass, like, actually seen somebody's life come to an end.

Think about what it would be like to see that. Knowing that for that person, there will be no more thoughts, no more emotions, no more friends, no more family, no more rainy days, no more traffic jams, no more beers with pals, no more facebook chat, no more sorrow, no more love. Nothing.

Fucking dead. And for what?

Let me make this clear. I DO NOT want to take anything away from anyone who's served in the Canadian military, or any military for that matter. Their moral courage is far greater than mine will ever be-- the vast majority of them put the most important thing they had on the line in order to fight for a cause they believed was bigger than themselves-- and they deserve immediate respect and eternal recognition for it.

The problem is that time after time, these people lose their lives not for the freedom and prosperity of the country they dearly loved, but for the insecurities and greed of the people who rule said country.

From the Boer War to present day (the time period remembrance day was set up for), I can think of 1 case in which Canadian or U.S. military action was justified (peace keeping missions excluded). The others have been selfish acts of war, waged by self serving politicians, and drenched in the blood of innocent and/or well meaning people.

Anyone remember the acronym M.A.I.N from grade 10 history? The four reasons WWI, the second bloodiest single war of all time, was fought?

Militarism

Alliances

Imperialism

Nationalism

Do any of those sound like good reasons to send young people off to die for? And when you think about it, can you think of a better reason for why we're in Afghanistan? Bin Laden is probably dead, leaving us to fight against a military tactic and an ideology, two things that you certainly aren't going to kill with guns. Why are the best and bravest of our young men and women off dying in some sandlot for a cause that is at best implausable as a militaristic strategy and at worst blind loyalty to a country we have made ourselves economically dependant on? 152 men and women dead and not coming back to their families because (if we are to take it at face value) the western world believes it's somehow possible to wipe out 1000 years of violence and indoctrination with more violence and indoctrination. Yet the Canadian government, who lets this war continue without any explination as to why it's happening, pretends to honour and respect the troops.

Go ahead Mr. Harper; wear that poppy on your chest proudly.

Tell the soldiers and veterans of the Canadian military that you believe in what it stands for-- remembrance of the lessons learned from war, respect for the people who died for our country, and the hope that one day there will be no more need for people to die in armed conflict-- when you have thousands of brave Canadians overseas fighting an idealistic and unwinnable war for reasons that you won't explain, probably because they're either incomprehensable or just plain twisted.

Or here's a better idea. Instead of wearing that poppy as an accessory your regular pompous arrogance, go up to Sgt. Sherry Lynn Rodgers and spit right in her fucking face. It would be just as insulting, but at least you would have the balls to disrespect her openly, as opposed to hiding behind the false pretense that you identify with, or even respect her commitment to something you will never understand. She's on the front lines in a fucking war, fighting for the freedom of the Canadian people. The exact same freedom you, your cabinet, your esteemed opposition, and the majority of the members of the highest ranking police force in the country you “run” piss all over every single fucking day. You have no right to tell anyone you respect the commitment of the Canadian military when you continue to send it's members to die for an ideology while slowly destroying everything you tell them they're fighting for.

Very few people have what it takes to be in the military, to risk losing your family, your friends, the very things you hold dear every day, to defend the freedom of people you don't know is so commendable it's beyond words. The politicians sitting behind their desks sending innocent people to die like to think that they've deserved the right to lead a nation in honouring those very people. They like to pretend that they are at least noble and morally courageous enough to be in a class that identifies with these soldiers.

That insinuation would be hilarious if it wasn't so god damned offensive.

Mr. Harper, you don't even have the balls to let your cabinet talk to the media without a script; don't pretend to identify with those who have the courage to die for their country. And what's more, stop sending the best and bravest young men and women this country to die over bullshit.

Transgressions are made, while cowards convey

with a demon's ear, fixed and set to slay

while a statue awaits to be whittled away

with the mock of a slogan hiding filth with fear

never to learn, only to burn, and be burned

granite straight through slate, clear as common day

what will be mark to be made when we

crush it all to burn it down

with out sight without sound

simple shell, solemn still

without sight, without sound

make a martyr pedestal, ribbons of slaughter

feed the altar, stoke the fire it will take over

ignore the cut, the skin will callus as well as interest

when all are reckless none to profit, none to win

who to pay for all the years

all the lives when we decide

all the tears,

all the dumb lead the blind

playing “god deciding”

who will die next in line

for their “rights” justified

for the lie sitting high

playing god deciding

who will walk away

from the rage and revenge

inhumane consequence

comes in time,

playing god deciding

who will fall in line

to arrive

out of sight, and out of mind

Why I'm quitting Tobacco- By Rob

Fantastic--

The walk down the hall is rather short. A quick right after the elevator and it stretches just far enough to feel uncomfortable.

There is a gentile noise about the sixth floor; it’s just quiet enough to be disconcerting.

Entering the room there is a slight tightening in the chest: breathing becomes a little shorter; eyes are cast a little farther down.

At the end of the room, closest to the window, there he sits, slowly wasting away.

The mask is on his face, starting at the bridge of his nose, ending below his chin. Slowly the blankets rise: up and down, up and down, up and down.

He opens his eyes, confused at first, searching for something familiar finaly they settle right on you. For a moment they seem bright, but that quickly fades.

Everything seems to be fading at this point.

You want to ask how he is, but that’s a bad question. Stupid even. You can see how he is (dying.)

Whatever is inside him (the cancer: say it) is eating him away. It’s only been a few days but the difference is obvious. Time is growing short.

You sit down against the radiator ledge and he asks if you’re comfortable. Of course you are (lies, comfortable lies.)

He doesn’t say much, the mask won’t let him and the strength isn’t there (it’s never coming back.)

You tell him the latest news. Perhaps he cracks a smile (perhaps he’s just moving his mouth.)

He can’t turn his head, so he looks at you through the corner of his eye. Even when you don’t speak (and he can’t) he’s looking at you.

What do you say? What can you say? (Nothing.)

So you sit.

Oddly, his wrinkles have disappeared. Or at least, the more you look at him, the more they seem to have. So you focus on that.

Focusing on that is easier than focusing on the reality in front of you (he’s dying, right there, right in front of you.)

He knows it. You know it. No one says anything.

Your mind wanders: where is your suit, what shoes do you have to wear, why is the room so warm, why does the heater blow cold air, who chose the pattern for the floor tiles.

He falls asleep and you’re relieved. Finally you can look at him. When his eyes open, you look away (no need to stare at the dying.)

Your mind wanders, thoughts spring up and tears threaten. Both are pushed away (no need to do that here.)

Finally it’s time to go. You look at him, he looks at you. Do you hug him? Can you hug him? When was the last time you did that? Maybe you should just put a hand on his leg, or arm, or something.

You do nothing (you do nothing.)

Walking out, down the hall, you do nothing.

Nothing (nothing.)

Update: In a sad, but inevitable, turn the man whom I wrote about visiting this weekend — my grandfather — died this evening.

Ode to snowboarding blue balls

Just something I randomly wrote:

Oh great gods of snowboarding, have you no mercy? It's not even mid october, and I already have that feeling in my bones.

Anyone who snowboards knows exactly what I'm talking about. You know that watering in your mouth you get before you eat a big juicy steak? It's kind of like that, but you feel it in your legs. Your calf muscles literally burn with the anticipation of lactic acid and your knees ache, begging to be put through the grind of 7 brutal hours cutting through powder. Your entire lower body is literally begging you to get off your lazy ass and onto the nearest snow covered hill.

But it's only October, and with no snow in the forecast for at least another month, all you can hope to do is ride out your case of snowboarding blue balls. Watching Burton video teasers on youtube or dusting off your X-Box and playing a few rounds of Amped may help to tide you over, but nothing comes close to strapping those bindings on for real.

It was during these confusing days that a girl once asked me jokingly, or so I thought, if I would rather go snowboarding or on a date with her. In hindsight, I should have lied. As soon as I saw the dejected look on her face I knew I had fucked up, and I never recovered.

But what did she expect? It was during one of those cold november nights when the temperature first dips below freezing-- when you can literally count on two hands the sleeps until the first snowfall. No question of “would you rather _____ or go snowboarding” will warrant a different answer.

To the casual observer, my love affair with snowboarding may seem a little strange. I was born and raised in a relatively hill-less part of the world, and even after nine years I would still describe myself as 'mediocre at best' at the sport. So why do I love it so much? Simply because it offers so much freedom.

Snowboarding has always been a sanctuary for me. From the moment you get to the hill until the second you leave, your mind is on a different plane. You could be failing class, getting picked on at school, fighting with your girlfriend or your parents or your friends-- it doesn't matter. As you walk out of the car a feeling washes over you, and all of a sudden none of that shit matters. It's you, 3 friends, and about 10 pounds of fibreglass-- nothing else.

There's no way to score points, no way to win or lose, no us vs. them mentality that you get from team sports, no real rules, and nobody playing against you. Because of this, snowboarding creates a very positive culture, in which the true pillars of sport-- fun and personal growth-- are paramount to competition and the negativity it breeds. It's impossible to cheat in snowboarding because there are no rules to break. It's impossible to be a sore loser because it's impossible to lose. Nobody boos you when you land a trick, and only assholes laugh at you when you fall.

Don't get me wrong, there is competition in snowboarding, but by the sports very nature it's friendly and productive. When you see somebody else do something cool, you immediately want to do it too, and better than they just did. But that's only human nature. For snowboarding, the competition ends at making them look bad. You don't feel good when somebody eats shit, and you can't help but cheer when they land something sick. Even in mano-a-mano competition like the X-Games, you'll always see snowboarders cheer when their opponents land something spectacular. This isn't done in compliance with some ancient unwritten rule like clapping between points in tennis-- it comes naturally from the positive attitude that snowboarding is rooted in.

The most challenging competition in snowboarding comes not from an opponent, but from within you. This is where the magic of snowboarding lies. Because you have nobody to outperform, you can grow at your own level and push your boundaries at a comfortable pace. If you fall while trying a new trick, it's not game over. All that normally happens is you look a bit stupid and maybe hurt a little bit, but that physical pain is nothing compared to how good you feel once you land it. The feeling is addictive. Once you get that trick down and it doesn't feel so good to land anymore, you keep pushing for your fix, aiming for something bigger and better. You may never be as good as Shaun White, but you'll always be better than you were the day before. And if you have a shitty day, there's always tomorrow. At least until the offseason starts.

Which brings us back to mid-October blue balls...

If you live south of the Arctic circle, the cruel reality is that for at least 6 months a year there isn't any snow on the ground. I guess the only problem with snowboarding is that, oddly enough, you need snow to do it.

Wait, scratch that. There's nothing wrong with snowboarding. Let me rephrase that; the problem with our climate is that it doesn't snow every god damn day.

Fall Ritual for Mark's class

God damn this is old. It's about the Bills game I went to last year. If you're good maybe I'll tell you all the story about the one this year...

http://www.allvoices.com/contributed-news/7004660-the-joys-of-canadian-thanksgiving-at-the-bills-game

The Doc-- By Rob

maybe baseball isn't dead, maybe we all just forgot what it fucking sounded like...

http://morningedition.wordpress.com/2010/10/09/a-quick-word-about-the-doctor/

By Rob Hiltz

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea-- by Jordan

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea: Xenophobia, Chicken Coops, and America: The New Rome

The following is a paid advertisement for tasers, beards, bullshit and boredom :) Enjoy.

"When the hunter becomes the hunted, they outlaw hunting." - Sage Francis

Between the devil and the deep blue sea.

That is where those who are opposing the building of a mosque near the sight of the 9/11 attacks have found themselves. They are essentially damned if they do, and damned if they don’t. The massive attention that the media has given to the outcries of xenophobic rage masked as a patriotic respect for the dead has thrown an uncomfortable spotlight on the argument, and essentially if the naysayers back down now they will have lost face on a national scale. Through their own misguided justifications they have impaled themselves on the horns of a dilemma.

The argument that because the 9/11 attackers were Muslim justifies the refusal to allow a mosque to be built near ground zero is a political red herring, designed to divert attention from the blatant attempt at circumvention of the constitution, which guarantees freedom of religion.

The constitution also guarantees freedom of speech; therefore the opposition are more than within their rights to express their opinions, whether they are based in fact or not. But freedom of speech has its price; the media has seen to that. The fact remains that the vast majority of those opposed to this site are the members of the Christian right, who seem to overlook the fact that terrorist actions can be perpetrated by members of any religion.

Timothy MacVeigh was one such Christian, but there are no protests to the building of new churches in Oklahoma.

Unfortunately, this is typical of a country that declared upon its inception that all men are created equal, and continued employing slave labour, marginalizing women, homosexuals, immigrants, the poor and the working class for centuries. America is a country that was built, with the best of intentions, upon a series on a series of unfortunate contradictions.

Each one could warrant a piece roughly ten times as long as this one, but just to name a few: Your huddled masses? Send em’ in as long as they can do the jobs Americans don’t want and are content with second-class citizenship. Which most of them are.

The pledge of allegiance states explicitly that you are indebted to ‘one nation under god.’ Well, so much for separation of church and state.

The right to bear arms is touted with the same ideological fervour as the outcries against violence in America; the protesters polish their rifles while placing the blame on anyone but themselves.

9/11 was a tragedy of epic proportions, one which will continue to affect the world at large for many years to come. Those who lost their lives, as well as those who gave them trying to help, deserve to be remembered and their sacrifice mourned. But to use their deaths as a catalyst to exploit the fears of an entire nation, as they have been used for nearly ten years, is completely despicable and only serves to bring to light the ugly side of America’s self-serving idealism.

Throughout its’ history America has engaged in countless conflicts and coups under the guise of spreading democracy and bringing freedom to the oppressed. However, anyone with knowledge of historical fact is well aware that almost all American military action has been designed specifically to protect their own interests. Vietnam, Cuba, Cambodia, Laos, Nicaragua, Argentina, Iran, Israel & Palestine...the list goes on.

And these are only the ones we know about.

I don't want to come across as a conspiracy theorist; but when a government acts covertly, unilaterally and agressively in a distrubing pattern of actions designed to create a one-super-powered world, wherein the US holds all the cards, a lot of what really goes on and why will never be 100% viable, as told by the government or the media. 

This lack of trust in the facts as presented has created a polarizing effect on the population that has radicalized most citizens into either apathy or dissent. Those who take everything at face value and tow the official line, as it were, are not necesarilly stupid, it is more likely they do not want to contemplate the implications of government deception at the highest levels. Ignorance can truly be bliss. 

When the ramifications of this military, political and social meddling come back to bite America in the ass, the government reverts back to playing the victim. The average Joe, who has no comprehension of the scope of his own government's actions, is left holding the proverbial bag, caught red-handed for a crime of which he has no knowledge. Ever since the Twin Towers fell, one question has been posed time and time again, like a confused mantra: 

"Why do they hate us?"

Thus begins the cycle of 'us' and 'them'. America is under attack, from an unseen enemy that threatens not just the country but its very way of life. And so the US defends their retaliation with a twisted logic that denies the very actions which bring about terrorist actions such as 9/11 in the first place.

When their chickens come home to roost, America burns down the fucking hen-house. 

Anyone with half a brain can tell you that the “War On Terror” was never a viable option, because you cannot kill an idea. And despite whatever progress has been made in Iraq and Afghanistan, the underlying religious rhetoric that supposedly fuelled the actions of the 9/11 terrorists, prevails to this day.

Americans decry the cowardly and barbaric actions of extremists of every faith. Yet, is it civilized or rational for a government to lie to its own people, to fight wars for personal and political gain while sacrificing the lives of innocents for reasons they can’t even justify with honest facts?

The fact is, after 9/11, most Americans wanted one thing...vengeance (ironically, if you subscribe to the official story, that's what the 9/11 attackers wanted too). Of course, the Republicans were more than willing to give it to them, because, one very important facet of neo-conservatism is the presence of an ‘invisible enemy’, a phantom menace which can be used as a tool to simultaneously focus and engage an entire population against a common enemy, a scapegoat for an endless cycle of conflict.

The confusion and fear this creates allows those in power to pursue their own agendas, in ways they would never be allowed to otherwise. This tactic is not a new one; in fact it is shockingly familiar to anyone with knowledge of history. Nazi Germany, The Cold War...the events, the people, the places and the consequences may change, but the motive remains constant throughout history.

Power, the power that comes from fear, obedience and most of all, money. And while the U.S. strives for that power by force in the mask of democracy and freedom around the world, the debate seems to be largely ignored in their domestic political dialogue. The power America once had, has been stretched too thin and is collapsing, just as Rome did, from the inside. Is that a fiddle I hear playing?

Their economy is collapsing as a result of unnecessary military action; foolhardy deficits incurred to create the illusion of financial security as well as a permeating culture of unregulated greed and institutionalized corruption in the financial sector. Meanwhile, their schools are falling further and further behind every year. They are still one of the only countries in the developped world without free health care, just one unfortunate consequence of the increasing partisanship and corporate influence that is strangling their policy-makers. Their infrastructure is crumbling and their media has turned into a circus, blurring the lines between reality and fiction, information and entertainment, all for the sake of shock value and ratings. The average American is overworked, underpaid and swimming in a sea of bills and debts with no relief in sight, while the perpetrators of this fiasco are handed cash like party favours and sent on their way.

And yet they are worried about a mosque...

In the words of John Lennon, “Let it be.”

Because America has got much bigger fish to fry, and frankly they are starting to smell pretty ripe.

So why should we care? What difference do the actions of the American government make in our lives? We are still living our day to day lives, content in watching the side-show that American politics has become from afar, while most of us (myself included) display, to varying degrees, the same ignorance we decry regarding the actions of our own government.  

Besides the obvious implications to the global economy (and Canadian economy in particular), all civilized nations, and every person in them, need to recognize the ramifications of America’s descent into madness; in order to be responsible and informed citizens of our own country and to ensure that we do not let ourselves make the same mistakes. Otherwise we will be just as complicit in the downfall of the ideals America was built upon.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; these are not talking points. They are remnants of a time when freedom was not taken for granted, when a few brave men stood together and declared that they would not be subjugated to the whims of a tyrant, of a time when revolution; truly was a viable reality.

As Bob Dylan once sang in another era of hatred and repression, the times they are a changin'. Let’s make damn sure this time, they change for good. 

Rob's emotion story

Read it and weep. Weep tears of fear of being trapped and weep tears of joy. You'll understand. just read it...

http://morningedition.wordpress.com/2010/09/28/darkness/

The column I'm not supposed to write

Since the editors of the paper wouldn't take my column pitch, here it is. And even better, I don't have to tone it down like I thought I would.


Odour blocking action, twice the cleaning power, new disposable swivle head, blah blah blah blah. I'm sick and tired of hearing companies heave a massive steaming pile on me every time i turn on the tv or tune in to the radio. they all hype their product up as a "revolution in ____ technology" when really, all they're doing is pissing away their money into cheap gimmicks to get us to buy more. On behalf of the human race, I refuse to take any more. I'm not too worried about the fear mongering and encouragement of moral and environmental degradation brought into our sick, materialistic society... i'm just sick of hearing about your "latest home fragrance breakthrough."

Toothbrush companies seem to have the mouth runoff down pat. It seems like they're always coming up with some sort of new "spinning pulse head" that "gives you the dentist clean feeling every day". Spinning pulse head? Are you sure this isn't supposed to go somewhere other than your mouth? And who wants the dentist clean feeling every day? Does anyone actually enjoy going to the dentist? "Oh yes, now my gums can be sore and my mouth can taste like rubber and synthetic 'bubblegum' 3 times a day! How did i ever live without this?" News flash, the only reason i brush my teeth 4 times a day is so i don't have to go to the dentist. Why would i ever want to feel that pain multiple times a day?

The home pregnancy test industry is also pretty bad for this verbal diharrhea. "Our test calculates tempuratures and works with your cycle to predict accurate results 4 days before the ___ period". Okay, cool, is she pregnant or not? Take it from me, when one is involved in such a situation, one isn't really concerned about "thermal body temperatures" or the "dawning of the age of ovarius"; the only thing one wants to know is; blue or red? And have you seen the home pregnancy test that smiles at you when you're pregnant? What kind of sick freak designed that shit? You may call it a "breakthrough in home pregnancy", I call it "adding insult to injury."

Another thing that bothers me is these products that change colour or make noise to tell you something that anyone capable of rational thought could easily figure out for themselves. Like the razor that turns from blue to white when it "may be time to change your blade for a closer shave". Are you insinuating that the handsome, rugged man in your commercial has the ability to obtain his neurosurgery degree, score the winning goal for his beer-league championship, make enough bank to afford a wicked mansion, and bag the hot supermodel of a wife you and i couldn't even talk to, but doesn't posses the ability to tell when his razor isn't doing a good job shaving his face? If you can't tell when your razor has shat out on you, it might be time to switch to an electric... I don't think we can trust you with sharp stuff so close to your jugular.

The worst is the beer company (who shall remain nameless) with the label that turns blue when your beer is "cold certified." Now with an extra strip to "let you know when your beer is as cold as the Rockies". Have you ever been to the Rockies? I have, it's pretty fucking cold. If your beer got as cold as the Rockies, you'd probably be scraping it off your pizza pockets while cursing your idiot roommate for leaving the can in the freezer too long.

The whole idea of letting me know if my beer is cold enough is useless anyways. See, I have this "latest breakthrough in limb technology", we call it the hand. I just put my "hand" up to any beer (or anything else i may need to check for suitable tempurature) and the sensors in my brain tell me if my beer is "cold certified". And if it's not, i just look for a colder one. Or buck up and drink it anyways. And when your beer doesn't make me as attractive to the ladies as the commercials would have me believe...

I'll just let you piece that one together yourself.

Lydia's Emotion story

So I can't figure out how to add contributing writers (someone help please?). But in the meantime here's a wicked awesome piece of writing from Lydia.

The faces around me were sunken, some suffering with lack of sleep, all holding back tears. No one ever knew what to say except “I’m so sorry.”

I had gone up to the coffin several times over the course of the morning, so the shock was wearing off. Out of the room filled with a mix of children, elderly and thirty-something mourners, I was by far the strongest willed.

A twenty-nine year-old father of two broke down on my shoulder, while other men of the same age took steps back from the scene. They were unsure of how to handle it. They were unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry,” was all that came to mind.

They were sorry they were here, they were sorry they had not been around. They were sorry they didn’t know how he had been doing. They were sorry we were so young. Most were sorry that they did not know what to say. Everyone was sorry for my loss.

As I walked another broken man up between aisles of people too young to weep so loudly, I grew steeled. I realized then that I had not cried once, not once since my mother called to say they had found him dead. I had not been shaken when I made the obligatory phone calls to let friends know that he had passed away. I had been more concerned for others, and ready to comfort those that I saw in the days leading up to the funeral.

Looking over to his mother, whose tears had dried overnight, I saw her quietly consoling someone as I was doing now. She had been the first to greet me in the mid-morning as the dark stained doors of the funeral home. We had walked up the aisle past reams of donated flowers, ribbons and ferns, to view the casket. All the while, she chatted like only a mother could about what a good job they had done on his makeup and how he had gained weight in jail and how she was glad he had died at home.

Still, as I had been doing, she was walking the young or the nervous visitors up to the coffin to see her son. You could tell who was too scared to see him by the way they stole glances toward the back of the room and searched the faces of those walking back toward the door. As if they could catch a reflection left over in eyes that had viewed the dead body, they looked cheated when they could not find it. They stole a glance back at the coffin, at the floor, at their hands… anywhere they could contemplate their grief, and then; they looked at me.

Sooo.

I decided to post links to my own shitty writing to make you feel better about your own and hopefully convince you to contribute to my pipe dream

http://www.allvoices.com/contributed-news/6586093-more-random-poetry-yhey

http://www.allvoices.com/contributed-news/6236141-that-skeleton-in-my-closet-pt-3

Ya, so have fun with that. And maybe post your own stuff?