Breathe Goode Strips

Instructions

Sizing: Generally, if your nose is between sizes, use the smaller of the two sizes of Breathe Goode® nasal strips. If you have a big ugly nose, you can use multiple strips to cover it up.

Preparation: Wash your nose with our optional Craig Brand® Nose cleaner ($199.99) or with soap and water and thoroughly dry the surface of the nose. This is necessary since facial oils will combined with the adhesive of the strip and form hydrochloric acid.

Placement and Application: For maximum relief, correct placement of the Breathe Goode nasal strip very important. Place your index fingers on the sides of your nose between the eyes. Allow your elbows to touch. Slowly slide your fingers down the side of your nose applying slight pressure, until your eyes water. Raise your left leg, lean back as far as you can, now hold your breath. Your elbows should be below your shin; you should no longer be able to breathe through your nose. For most people, this will be painful. Without letting go, remove the protective backing. Hold the Breathe Goode nasal strip in the middle and center it over your nose at the proper location. Press the ends down. Gently rub until secure with a hot iron. Breathing should begin immediately. If not call 911. The Breathe Goode nasal strip needs to be well attached to the sides of the nose. If you have fragile skin, you my wish to use staples.

Removal: Removing the strip is best done quickly. First loosen all four tabs at the ends. Then pull both sides up fast. Discard the used Breathe Goode strip and any attached skin.

Exercising: Breathe Goode nasal strips may enhance breathing while exercising or sex. Put on one nasal strip and one condom, be sure not to confuse the two. This will enhance performance during intercourse. If you find the Breathe Goode strip loosening, you may wish to skip foreplay.

Caution: For external use only. Do not ingest. Do not use over sores, sunburned or irritated skin. (Do not use for more than 12 minutes per day.) Not to be used on children under five years of age unless they are causing a raucous.

ABNORMAL BREATHING: If you are told that you have periods of time when you stop breathing while you sleep you may be dead. Other symptoms include excessive sleeping, memory lapses, or decay. Death is a serious medical condition requiring accurate diagnosis and proper therapy. If you suspect this is the problem, please consult your local mortuary.

Comments: Please call Breathe Goode nasal strips toll-free at 1-800-BIG-NOSE

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Inventor's Story

I have always had difficulty breathing through my nose, so I decided to breathe through my mouth. As I got older I developed complications which made breathing impossible. I tried a variety of medications such as beer for relief, and soon became dependent on them.

Breathing through my nose at night became even more important after I developed a medical condition called snoring. I was unable to breathe adequately through my nose or my mouth. Before trying to sleep, I would push small tubes, wire forms, tissues, old banana peels, toothbrushes, toothpicks and rusty scissors into my nostrils to improve my breathing, but to no avail. Instead of helping me to breathe, many fell out or exploded.

Then one day it occurred to me I could gently pull my nostrils open from the outside. That’s when I came up with Breathe Goode® nasal strips - At first I used a system of pulleys and counter weights which didn't work very well. They would get caught in car doors, dragging my nostrils down the streets with me attached. Later I developed the flexible strip. Unfortunately, while I was experimenting with a stapling system to attach them to the nose, Mr. BC Johnson in Chanhassen stole my idea and rushed his Breathe Right® nasal strips to the patent office. I countered with a bobby pin and bandaid system which is patent pending. I felt both systems were equally valid. I challenged Mr. Johnson to a test: The Super-nose-bowl. I supplied the Dallas Cowboys and Mr. Johnson supplied the San Francisco 49ers. We lost. The Cowboys blamed my (superior) nasal strip. I maintain it was their weak defense. However, a deal is a deal and I’m force to license the Breathe Goode nasal strips from Mr. Johnson.

National Physician’s Support: Over 6100 physicians are currently sampling Breathe Goode nasal strips to their patients. This program includes ear, nose and throat doctors; allergy specialists; doctors of democracy; sex therapists; and witch doctors.

Customer Recommendations

“I was truly amazed that your product could give me so much relief with no side effects other than abnormal hair growth.”
- Harry Snozola, Ames IA

“After just-2 days of using your product, I feel 200% better-not just upon waking, but even while slopping my hogs.”
- J. Twohogs, Madison WI

“[My] problems have kept me from breathing for most of my life ... Upon application of the product, I had immediate relief and could breathe for the first time in many years.”
- Blue Indaface, Deep Breath AZ

“[My doctor] suggested I try Breathe Goode strips and I’m delighted to say they’ve produced a significant improvement in my breathing difficulties!”
- S. O'Ess, Riolinda CA

“I wondered how I had managed to spend over $5 for a few band aids with imbedded flexible strips. Now I think this was probably the best investment I have ever made.”
- Rush Limbaugh, New York, NY

Note: There can be no assurance that anyone will receive similar results from Breathe Goode nasal strips.

The above satire was written for an instruction sheet on a 1996 Christmas present. For a couple years I was giving out fake gifts modeled on actual products that I would relabel as my own.

James Howard Newman And His Newman Pneumatic Writing System

A recent patent filing by Apple Inc., for a pneumatic sensing keyboard brought back memories of the Newman Pneumatic Writing System. This short lived device seemed wondrous at the time, but was quickly eclipsed by the Wang Word Processor and the personal computer. Yet there was a time in the late 1960s when the ability to move words around on the page was impossible. The manual typewriter was difficult to master and mistakes were next to impossible to correct. James Newman with his Pneumatic Writing Systems looked to save all of us poor typers from endless corrections. The Newman system had such a nice feel and if the compressor was in another room, it was quiet with just a soft squishing sound on the keyboard.

Corrections were easy to deal with depending on how many letters you need to move or remove. You would select the corresponding size bulb out of the box. Squeeze the bulb and then place it next to the words you wanted to remove. Relax the bulb and the words would come up. Hold the bulb and placed it elsewhere in the document with a simple squeeze, or squeeze them into your edit towel to remove them.

I was looking forward to getting one of these machines before college. I figured I was halfway there as I had an air compressor. There were other options including foot powered bellows and 'the gate' which allowed you to inflate 4-12 balloons and use that air pressure- obviously that never was very popular. Fortunately, I got a Radio Shack Model TR-S80, before starting school. Unfortunately, the dot matrix printer never had the look- the beautiful typeface of the Newman.

I don't know how many people remember the Fttting trick. Some users would modify their Newmans by dropping the pressure level on their compressors, adding a pressure tank (to keep the pressure constant), and then setting the sensitivity as high as it would go on the Newman. Often opening the machine and changing the switches to make it even more sensitive. Then adding an inline 'Fttt-tube' and holding down the space key, the operator could 'talk' by making a Fttting sound into the tubes- an alphabet based on morse code- they could Fttt rather than type.

James Newman hated this. He felt it defeated the very purpose of his writing machine. He brought many lawsuits against the Fttters. Ironically it helped the personal computer industry by slowing acceptance of the Pneumatic Writing System.

Still the Newman Writing System had many innovations we see in today's word processors: such as proportional fonts, and 'Cut & Paste.' It should come as no surprise to learn Steve Jobs was a Fttter- before become enamored with the possibilities of the personal computer. Another famous Fttter was Bob Heil. Heil invented the Heil Talk Box in 1973, which was frequently used by musicians such as Peter Frampton, Joe Walsh, Joe Perry, and Richie Sambora. It is still in use today.

As a young inventor James Howard Newman was interested in Morse Code. He worked on a method of storing messages for later playback. He used an oxidized aluminum wire that was moved across a scrapper that was pneumatically controlled off a relay on the telegraph circuit. A scapper would remove oxidation on the wire as it traveled by. Once 'recorded' the wire was moved to a bell jar where the air was pumped out. (to prevent further oxidation.) To play the recording the wire was run over an electrical circuit. Where the oxidation was scraped off, the contacts would recreated the dots and dashes. ( early demo device) Much of this work found its way in his Pneumatic Writing Machine. It was also the basis of early magnetic wire recorders that later became tape recorders with the invention of inexpensive magnetic tape from 3M.

Newman held numerous patents in the fields of pneumatics and electronics. Unfortunately, none of his earlier inventions are in use today and can only be found in obscure museums such as the Technopolis located near Mechelen and the Information Technology Museum in Brussels. (Newman is still revered in Belgium.)

James Newman married Syree Dunton and had a long marriage that was marred by their inability to conceive a child. Elements of their story were used in the 1968 hit song "Words" by the Bee Gee's. It is also assumed that Apple Inc., named Siri, their new voice service, after Syree Newman.

Smile an everlasting smile, a smile can bring you near to me.
Don't ever let me find you gone, cause that would bring a tear to me.
This world has lost it's glory, lets start a brand new story now, my love.
Right now, there'll be no other time and I can show how, my love.

Talk in everlasting words, and dedicate them all to me.
And I will give you all my life, I'm here if you should call to me.
You think that I don't even mean,a single word I say.
It's only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away

"Words" by The Bee Gees

lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.,
Universal Music Publishing Group, EMI Music Publishing

Note: some elements of this story come from Wikipedia, but most are based on my memories. I apologize in advance for any errors.

Halloween 1968

I was running to the next house, trying to keep up with my friend Blaine Houston. The pillow case was mostly empty, except for a few pieces of candy jumping with each step. I quickly caught up before he rang the bell. My father, and Blaine's father, George, were walking down the sidewalk as we cut across the yards in our neighborhood. Mrs. Bye smiled as she dropped some Sweetarts into my pillow. I thanked her quickly as Blaine was halfway to the next house. Blaine was almost seven years old but big for his age. He was fast but my 16 month head start meant that I could always catch him. The same couldn't be said for George and dad. They were were yelling for me to slow down, but I couldn't let Blaine beat me.

Most of the houselights were on. This was a friendly neighborhood, but it was also a cheap neighborhood and the candy wasn't very good. I asked Blaine if he had a bunch of candy corn. I don't know why I asked, he was hitting the same doors. Maybe I thought his costume was generating candy bars, rather than penny candy and bubble gum.

As we rounded the last corner of our block, George announce, "Trick or Treat is over when we get back to our house." Blaine looked horrified. I wasn't happy either, I turned to dad and asked, "You can take around the next block can't you?"
"No, I'm afraid this will have to be it."
I tried to complain but it was no use. Dad wasn't listening and walked into the house. I continued on to Blaine's house. Blaine wasn't about to stand up to George. George was a fun loving guy but didn't brook any sass from his son and would follow through with any implied threat.

I whispered to Blaine, "This isn't fair. It is barely dark, and all I got is some crappy penny candy and an apple. I'm going to go out again."
Blaine whispered back, "How? Your dad isn't going to take you."
"I'm going to sneak out of my room."
"How are you going to do that?"
"I will pretend to go to bed, then take off the window screen and climb out."
"I wish I could go."
"Just do the same."
"Are you sure we won't get caught."
"Sure. When was the last time they checked to see if you were asleep. My parents never look."
"You're right but I don't know."
"I'll tell you what. I'll be outside your window in half an hour and we'll go together. We'll run up and down a couple more blocks until we get some decent candy and then climb back in the window. They will be none the wiser."

Blaine didn't say anything but after his mother dropped a mini Sugar Daddy in my pillow case, he said, "mom, I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed early."
She said, "Are you sure, honey?"
"I'm not surprised he's worn out, after all that running around," answered George.

When I got home I told mom I was going to read for a little while and then go to bed. It took me half an hour to get the screen off the window, because each movement caused it to start screeching horribly. I timed my movements with the doorbell. Every 'Trick or Treat' made me want to get out even quicker. I trimmed down my costume so I could run faster and carry more candy. I had visions of returning with a pillow case full of candy bars.

At Blaine's house his window was sliding back. I slid behind the bushes beside his window. First one leg and then then other slid over the ledge. Blaine dropped to the dirt. I grabbed him, and hissed, "What are you doing out of your room, Blaine!" In my best George Houston voice. Blaine started to scream. I put a hand over his mouth and tackled him. "It's me. I was just joking. Be quiet or we'll be in trouble.

We crossed the street and quickly ran from house to house and around the block. One block down. On to the next block. Two blocks down and we still didn't seem to have much candy. It takes a lot of penny candy, from a lot of houses to make even a small dent in a pillow case. We were running as fast as we could, and didn't appreciate the time it took some households to answer the door and deliver up the candy. This was made even worse by those old people who wanted to talk about our costumes and then handed out more candy corn.

We worked back towards our home block. We hit four houses in a row with diligent owners featuring real chocolate candy bars. We were excited when we rang the fifth bell. There was no answer, but the light was on. I rang it again. No answer. I wanted to head to the next house, "This is taking too long. Lets go!"
"No. We have to go for five bars in a row. I'm ringing the bell again." said Blaine.

Finally the door open and this guy sticks his head out. "Why are you kids ringing my door bell? I'm trying to watch the game."
Blaine and I yell, "Trick or Treat."
"I don't have anything for you so get lost."
"We're not leaving until you give us something," Blaine demanded.
I was thinking it was a waste of time arguing with the guy, but then he said, "Yeah, I got something for you boys, step inside."

No sooner did we step inside, than the old guy locked the door and picked up a big yard stick. I looked at Blaine, and he at I.
"I told you boys to leave me alone. Maybe a beating will teach you some manners."

He started swinging the stick in Blaine's direction. Blaine took off but didn't get past the coffee table. He tripped and knocked the guy's beer onto the carpet. The guy grabbed Blaine's ankle and was about to lay in when I yelled, "Leave my friend alone you big gorilla."

The big gorilla let go of Blaine's leg and came after me. I turned for the door but couldn't get the lock figured out. Blaine took off on a tear for the back door. This distracted the gorilla with the yardstick. He turned back toward Blaine. I made a couple steps toward my friend but then thought better of it. I got the door unlocked. I opened the door to escape when I saw the most frightening sight…

It was Ray and George standing on the front steps about to push the door bell. I yelled something about beating Blaine with a yardstick. George stepped in, took a couple long steps into the kitchen, grabbed the raised yardstick, spun the guy around by the shoulder and dropped him with one fast punch to the face.

Blaine yelled, "Dad you have come to save me!"
"You're not out of trouble yet. I told you Halloween was over and you snuck out of the house. Good thing Ray saw you and Craig headed down the street."
"We're sorry. We won't do it again."
"I know you won't do it again, after I give this yardstick a workout on your rear end." George brought the stick down hard into his open palm. I knew I would be next, so while the attention was on Blaine, I made a break for the door. Dad made a lunge for me but I jagged out of his grip and headed out the door. This took the attention off of Blaine, who made a quick break for the back door. I was racing home and noticed Blaine was behind me when I crossed the street. Blaine was crying and demanding that I save him. "Dad is going to kill me."
"Calm down. Let me think of something."
"You better hurry up because I can see them coming down the sidewalk and he still has the yardstick in his hand! Maybe if we climb back in our rooms and pretend we were never gone they might think it was all a big mistake." I shook my head and Blaine my plan.

We started running. I gave Blaine a boost through the window and wished him luck.

I climbed through the window, stripped my costume off and stashed it and and candy under the bed. I closed the window and pulled the covers up tight.

It wasn't long before there was a roar at the front door. It sounded like Frankenstein, but he wasn't looking for candy, he was looking to tan my hide.

He was yelling even before he got to the bedroom door, "When I tell you, you're done, you're done! There is no going behind my back! And certainly no sneaking out in the middle of the night! I am going to spank you until you can't remember your own name!" And with that he pulled back the covers. I looked at him and he looked at me. Time seemed to stop as I warily eyed the yardstick in his hand. Suddenly a laugh broke from his mouth, "Craig what are you doing here and where is Blaine?"

"Mr. Houston, it was all my idea, I talked Blaine into going out for more Halloween candy. I'm ready to take Blaine's punishment. I was crying while I said this. About this time the phone rang. The timing was perfect.

My dad was on the phone having discovered Blain in my bed. George grabbed by arm and marched me outside. I was exchanged for Blaine.

George looked my dad in the eye, "What are we going to do with them?"
"Boys will be boys." dad replied. Nothing more was said.

Back home, Dad yelled at me, then my mom yelled at me and even my baby sister got in on the action.
"One more thing," dad added, "Where is your candy? It stays with me." I looked around and realized with a cold fear that it was gone.
"I accidently left it under Blaine's bed."

Blaine on the other hand had the presence of mind to bring his back with him.
"All the better. The candy is now his. You should know better than getting him into such serious trouble. Now go to sleep. I don't want to hear another peep out of you."

The next day Blaine told me George went easy on him. I told him I left my candy under his bed. "I'm suppose to give it to you."
"Don't be silly. It's yours. I should give you mine too after you got me out of trouble."
"Actually, I'm suppose to give it to you, for getting you into trouble in the first place."
"I'll tell you what. Leave it here and you can eat it whenever you come over to play."

For the next week, I invited Blaine over to my house to play. I had visions of George introducing my backside to that yardstick; so I wanted to keep my distance. One night I overheard dad and George in the living room. They were recounting our little Halloween story and laughing hysterically. I figured I was safe. It helped that Blaine made sure the yardstick disappeared.

Santa Claus vs. Count Dracula

Biff believed in Santa Claus. He was thirty-five years old and believed in Father Christmas. Biff realized his sister had lied to him about Santa Claus. Santa wasn't his father, but a real saint. A big fat bastard that drove around in a sleigh delivering presents to kids. Santa didn't deliver presents to all the boys and girls- that would be impossible. Just the parents who were too poor, stupid, or drunk to provide gifts in honor of Jesus' birth.
In on a secret?
Hell, the secret was there was no secret.
Biff was convinced that he was one step ahead of his sister on that one.

Once Biff rediscovered Santa Claus, vampires were not far off...
When the Christmas presents were opened, the wrapping paper was in the garbage, and the Christmas tree was on the boulevard, Biff saw vampires everywhere. Vampires swarmed into Toledo every New Years Day and stayed until Halloween, when the Santa chased them out. It was no use wearing garlic or waving a cross around. The citizens of Ohio had made their peace with the blood suckers but not with a smelly and slightly deranged Biff.
Biff was one step ahead of his sister on the issue of vampires, in that his sister didn't understand what the hell Biff was talking about. Biff put away his garlic and tucked his cross into his shirt.
As he explained to his sister, "I don't have to outrun the vampire, I just have to outrun you."
"Thanks a lot."
"Hey, I thought you didn't believe in vampires."
"I don't, but at least you could protect me in your delusions."

Buffy gave her brother the stink eye. Yes, 'Biff and Buffy' - their father had a warped sense of humor; one that was lost on his kids.

Months later, shortly after Labor Day, the father arrived in Toledo and called his children to visit. When they arrived Biff and Buffy were arguing. It was the same old argument about Santa Claus and vampires. The father stood quietly as his children argued back and forth.

Buffy turned to her father and said, "Tell Biff it was you all those years delivering his Christmas presents."
"Yes, it was me."
"See, I told you so," shouted the excited Buffy.
"This is what I came here to tell you. Buffy, Biff isn't 100% wrong to believe in Santa. You're both old enough to hear what I have to tell you. I am Santa Claus (of Ohio™)."
Both Biff and Buffy turned to look at their old man: fat, bearded, and jolly.

"Dad, you have always been weird but this takes the cake," Biff responded. His sister nodded her head in agreement. It was the first time this month she agreed with Biff.

"Whether you believe in Santa Claus or not, I am he. I've come early because I'm getting too old to be chasing vampires around Toledo."
"Don't tell me you think there are vampires in Toledo too!" shouted Buffy.
"Buffy my little pumpkin, vampires are real. A real pain in the ass. I have to chase them out of town every holiday season, but it is getting to be too much. Every year there are more and more vampires in town and I can't convince the powers that be to kick off the holiday season any earlier than November 1st."
"Dad, how long have you known about Toledo's vampire problem?" Biff asked.
"For as long as I have been Santa, and that has been a long time."
"What can we do about it?"
"Well, Biff I've studied the literature and have figured out if you kill the vampire who made you, you stop being a vampire. It turns out there is one vampire who made all the others."
"Who is that?" asked Buffy.
"I bet it is Count Dracula" said Biff.
"You are correct. I found out he is still in town. Dracula doesn't know I'm back in town. I have a plan but I need your help."
"You can count on me dad," announced Biff.
"What about you Buffy?"
"I think you're both crazy. Santa Claus? Vampires? Count Dracula! You should be committed."
"I need your help. If we are crazy no harm can come from it but if we're not you will have helped rid Toledo of vampires.
"What do you have in mind?"

At midnight Buffy was outside the Valentine Theatre in lovely downtown Toledo. She was approached by a tall man who was wearing a cape.
"Miss, my name is Count Dracula. Don't be afraid, I only want to drink your blood."
"Get lost creep."
With that the count attacked Buffy. In the scuffle Santa Claus snuck around the corner and grabbed the count.
"Dracula, I've got you now."
"Santa, at last we meet. Unhand me and I will let you go unharmed."
"Nothing doing Dracula. You tried to vampirize my daughter. I can't let this go unpunished."
"The second you release me I will attack you too. You are finished."
"No, you dirty vampire, it is you who are finished," announced Biff as he came around the corner with a stake and wooden mallet.

Dracula struggled but Santa held him tightly.
The stake broke through Dracula's chest and found his black heart. Another stroke and the stake had stilled the mighty vampire's heart. The heart turn to dust as did the rest of him, leaving only his clothes.

At that exact instant dozens of bats were surprised mid-flight.

"I think these clothes may fit me," pondered Biff.
"Wow, you guys weren't nuts after all." Buffy injected.
"Finally that problem is solved. I can go back to the North Pole (Nelsonville, OH 45764) and get some work done. You know for years I've had to subcontract with Toys R Us because I've been so busy chasing vampires. Now the elves and I can go back to carving wooden toys for all the girls and boys. I want to thank the two of you. I couldn't have done it without you."

With that, the story is over. Santa Claus (of Ohio™) returned to the North Pole. Buffy and Biff Claus went to Denny's (on Monroe Street) for an early breakfast.

Achilles And Myrmidon Acne

The Myrmidon were Trembling and wait for the necessary 0.1 ointment protopic cream for their outbreak of eczeme. Achilles was expecting crowds to clamor for minocycline but as a unit this dose was rung out. Erect with Levitra the warlike Myrmidons impressed their maids, who were debating treating Achilles' shingles with acyclovir vs valtrex but there was scepticism which one? Princess Eurymedousa was taking razadyne for dementia and fluoxetine for her depression (no one believed her story about the ant) the interaction wasn't good. As Achille's ship's mast dipped below the horizon the Myrmidons went home and brushed their teeth with fluoride toothpaste in perfect synchronization. Their hypochondriasis was moderated somewhat by fluoxetine and Eurymedousa's daughter Annie Lennox singing.

When night arrived that song lingers and Eurymedousa breaks didrex tables in half. Obese Cressida downs them and injects them with similar results. She takes pioglitazone for her diabetes- its chemical structure is nice but she likes how it fits her pockets. Mendelism and ant-ism stresses the Myrmidon, they have handed the stress ulcers with aciphex yet on their message board it comes in a poor second to tazorac for their terrible acne and wrinkles but they were just going through the motions.

Having resolved to fight the wing people the Myrmidon caught up with their mescaline supplier, the better to get a miralax prep mixture. The Myrmidon youths can hardly be blamed for suicidal thoughts after taking trazodone for sleeping blindness.

AEneas (leader of the Dardanians, allies to the Trojans, lieutenant of Hector, and son of the Trojan king Priam) marched to Myrmidon imposing an order upon their finest pharmacists: a xalatan order for his glaucoma and the blest gods filled the order and also sold Aeneas some meclizine to combat nausea and vomiting after he stopped at Cressida's restaurant and alcohol store. The Next day Achilles returned and cut off Aeneas's nose. this nose rhinoplasty (and other limbs) was painfull, but Achilles was merciful and prescribed azmacort or a generic for azmacort- it was running low in at the village inns acctually guidelines and rules prevented name brands from being prescribed to enemies. Achilles had is own medical troubles. He was taking plavix under-the-counter. He could not own up to his short comings and thought any weakness a disgrace to the Myrmidon hive. mdma accidents generally went unreport. They owed Achilles a explaination, but as he stepped ashore the Myrmidon told him the problem is sarafem, the same as prozac. Aeneas left defeated.

The next invaders according to myth were Metallica, supposing such a thing happened as they were looking to barter some ecstasy for five gold records by metallica. Lars Ulrich brought these things but after seeing Annie Lennox thought some alesse contraceptive pills or a generic might be better. But Lars wasn't the only one looking for Annie's favors. Alcmaeon the last king of Athens was in town. Ajax was also looking for the honour of Annie's lofty pillow tops. Ajax was outside her bedroom with his atrovent inhaler in hand. Alcmaeon orchestered a meeting under the stands at the coliseum. The tazorac cream Ajax use d for danger was missing. Alcmaeon stole it hoping Ajax would die in the sun. Agamemnonson of King Atreus of Mycenae warned Ajax about the plan Alcmaeon proposes and seized accolates from the people of Salamis for saving their leader. They rewarded him with 10 mg of a leading herpes treatment. Surprisingly Lars remained sober and found his way into Annie's bed. He also found a prescription for acyclovir on her counter, which explained the itching in his nether regions.

The Myrmidons metabolite intermediates (ants) were invested in getting rid of all these foreigners in Annie's bed. They Joined battle only to be defeated. However, soon Alcmaeon, Ajax, and Agamemnon left with Lars and infections of their own. Their urinary tract infections would be cleared up in time using keflex on their wounds. They would be more careful next time with this magnificent woman from Myrmidon.

The Myrmidons celebrated with elidel pimecrolimus, which had shown much efficacy for eczeme, and looked for Annie. The Myrmidons spat her name on the soil. Medina invited Absyrtus into Annie's tent, they cut him into pieces for the Medina's father and the Myrmidon's to find. This was a common method to hide from angry crowds. It pays to be proactive.

Further study on pioglitazone explains fractures on Cressida's limbs. The Myrmidons, desperate for a cure have made a decision to try some minocycline although it's out of date- the drug doesn't work. The levitra tablets turn their limp members into spires. The Myrmidons dwelt in the beds of their women and would also place sacks over their heads and follow up with a course of amoxil antibiotics. The side effects affected every man who stuffed his spire- more acne.

The Myrmidon's and their leader Achilles did better once their crazy Ant-Queen Eurymedousa died, and her infected daughter Annie disappeared. Their acne cleared up! The Myrmidons praised Achilles for this improved in their lives. The Myrmidons of Greek myth were known for their loyalty to their leaders- now you know way.

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The original Spam message:

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Ancient Greek Pharmacology

Your common man when presented with a heavenly apparition will not be much of a witness. This is particularly true if they are taking doxazosin mesylate for high blood pressure and have had a restful night's sleep. Now, if someone is on an antidepressant like venlafaxine (Effexor) they will take the son at face value. Normally a Celestial panoply will frighten the average man. ghb (Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid, a neuroprotective therapeutic drug) will bide it's time inside him and a lawsuit will soon follow unless treated with a synthroid like Levothyroxine but even this will make you uneasy heavenly panoply or not. Boeotians of ancient Greece ever foolish provoked Alexander, by dosing his boyfriend with biaxin (a macrolide antibiotic in a 150mg filmtab thinking) could have helped his patron more than buying opium seeds. The Boeotians thought they were protected by the immortals. Little did they know the norco pipeline contained only acetaminophen would co-op their position with Alexander and his ill-fitting trousers. Dreadful they said the congregate popped some cartia xt 300mg escaping being frightened to death, at the maximium and at the minumum having erosion and ulceration of the esophagus relieved by protonix and dosing eucalion until they saw the heavenly apparitions. Although you may think it was Uncommon for the ancient Greeks to have access to modern medicines, many of the local plants worked on or are axons in the human brain and ketamine a dissociative anesthetic, is used for human and veterinary medicine. ontmorency tart cherries are one plant that does nutraceutical, as tested by the University of louisiana. The Greeks also took serzone until their attorney advised them of possible liver damage, so they cut down their meds to one terbinafine 250 mg tablets and noticed a slowness in their recovery. They Shot heaven with arrows hoping to awake the immortals with pinpricks, so the heaven apparition would rain down death on Alexander and pharmaceuticals for the Boeotians. They wanted both. The older Greek men were particularly interested in levitra, which an ancient advertising agency has evidently said can help you with the treatment of erectile dysfunction. They prayed and waited. Popping ranitidine for their peptic ulcers with a side of vermox tablets for their tapeworms. They shivered. Confused only about being gay either the makers of relafen felt horrid and changed the brand name of cyanocobalamin to homoballaman and yet that ketamine was a good buy for their huntresses as a battlefield anaesthetic. "Spurn the drug. Toss it down nothing but propecia for our warriors with male-pattern baldness," demanded the king. "This is not for sale in the slums. And no information on lanoxin from heaven or from the foxglove plant will strengthen our heart or our will!" The premarin lawyer was gladheartened. Others regard the King's words. Was he worrying about the zanaflex patient with muscle spasms. What progam would mean much? What patience could pass the army's rigorous drug test with lasix in their urine? The doom the people felt who have doyen for lsd year biology. Patroclus Achilles' best friend quits supposedly out of unity for Alexander. The Boeotians compare omeprazole 40 mg versus rabeprazole and their actions become clear. aid Alexander, deny the heavenly apparitions, and the ulcers are gone. The compazine antipsychotic stops their vertigo reactions this document witnesses. The Boeotians lose their independence to Alexander, lose their highly developed pharmacology, and lose the protection of the immortals.

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The Story of Lawnmower Man

The hopelessly hopeless man tries to find an obscure piece of crap that still works as a pure typing machine.

Hey, I can't get my self-propelled lawnmower to work!
Where is my hammer?
Bam Bam.
Now it's in pieces.
Hey, where is my epoxy?
I got to get this stupid thing glued back together.
I got this fast drying cement, so after 15 minutes later, I pulled on the cord and off it went. Unfortunately, I had the drive engaged and off it went down the street. I got on my bicycle and followed as it headed for the river. Sure enough it jumped the bank and was now zooming down the streets in Moorhead. At this point I gave up. I hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass.

A couple days later I noticed in the paper an odd article about a mysterious benefactor who was going door-to-door mowing old lady's yards. Another article was about a vandal who was knocking down fences in the ritzy part of town.

A month later I put up my garage door and there it was. I didn't give much thought to how it got there, or how it managed to put the garage door up and get it down again. It was out of gas, so I had to drive clear across town to pick up the special mixture of gasoline and oil that it loves.

When I got back I tried to start it. I pulled on the rope but it fell off. I reattached it but it still wouldn't start. I checked the spark plug and I could see it was fouled. I cleaned it in gasoline and then filed and re-gapped the plug. It started right up.

I guess I didn't learn my lesson because it took off down the street again. I got on my bike and this time I headed directly for the river in order to cut it off. I waited a couple minutes. It didn't show up. Obviously it outsmarted me.

I went back home and went to bed where I dreamed of green grass and ridding mowers.

National Waterboy League Week 10 Review

It was a big day in the NWBL so lets get right to our four key game recap.

The North Central Conference saw the match up of the top seated Green Bay Packers against a newly re-energized Minnesota Vikings. The running game dominated the day, or should I say the lack of a running game. The Packer defense effectively benched Adrian Peterson- last week's player of the week. On the other side of the ball, Brett Farve was able to find receivers at will, and on the ground the Packers were able to find their feet and run for over 150 yards in their 34-0 shutout victory. But more importantly the Packers were able to pound down 27 gallons of water and 36 gallons of Gatorade compared to the desert-like consumption of the visiting Vikings. "We weren't doing much on the field or on the sidelines," said Minnesota Tight End Garrett Mills, " I feel we let down our coach and our Water Boy, Dennis. Dennis was begging us to keep hydrated but as the score became more lopsided we just didn't keep up with our fluids."
John Kuhn, who had a great day on the field, responded for the victorious Packers, "Coach told us to stay on our toes. Whenever he saw us standing around Coach McCarthy would bark out, 'Quit standing around Kuhn, and get some Gatorade.' I have to hand it to our coach and Pepper our Water Boy. I don't think I've been as hydrated during a game. If you'll excuse me I have to use the rest room."
"Dangers caused by overexposure to high temperature and humidity are preventable if coaches and players know the early warning signs and stay cool and hydrated. Simple steps like allowing for acclimatization, adjusting the intensity of practice to environmental conditions and access to properly formulated sports drinks can make all the difference." said Pepper Burruss, head athletic trainer and waterboy for the Green Bay Packers.

6'1" Chad Johnson had four receptions for 73 yards helping his Cincinnati Bengals beat the hapless Baltimore Ravens 21-7. Johnson attributed his success today on the field to his pre-season training. "…Nowhere (is) more intense than an NFL Training Camp, players working their hardest to get ready for the grueling football season. Hard work means lots of sweating, which could lead to dehydration. Every NFL player knows to drink Gatorade to keep their bodies hydrated. It's the safe and smart thing to do. And, Gatorade tackles dehydration head-on. Drinking Gatorade ensures every player is prepared to sustain peak performance."

After the losing to the San Diego Chargers 23-21, Indianapolis Colt quarterback Peyton Manning had this to say, "We struggled throughout today's game. It was obvious the Chargers had the advantage with gallons and gallons of Gatorade 'Lime Rain' sports drink. I feel our waterboy let us down. I've talked to the coach and he agrees something must be done. I'm hoping the owners will do the right thing and trade off some our better players to Denver. I'm convinced only this measure will convince Denver to trade Steve Antonopulos to our organization." When asked about their fourth quarter come back Manning said, "Guys were puking on the no-name sports drink our waterboy had set out. I sent my wife to the 7-11 down the block. I told her, 'Honey, grab as much Gatorade as you can find. Stop at another store if you have too but fill up the back of the pickup!' She was a real trooper. If she hadn't gotten pulled over for speeding- who knows we might have won this game."

One day after his father died, SF Coach Mike Nolan tried unsuccessfully to get his team a win, but the 49er's were no match for the better coached and hydrated Seattle Seahawks. The Seahawks dried up the 49er's post-season hopes 24-0.
Cornerback Walt Harris spoke for most of the San Francisco team when he said, "core temperature is not necessarily associated with either percentage of dehydration or sweat rate. It wasn't even 50 degrees- I certainly wasn't sweating, but I was having trouble with dehydration."
Seattle Wide Receiver Nate Burleson said, "Our field data does not support the common dogma that the heaviest sweaters or most dehydrated players are at the greatest risk for developing high core temperatures because exercise intensity and dehydration were not controlled. This does not negate the well-known relationship between increasing dehydration and increasing core body temperature. Our waterboy has studied this in detail and we believe our hydration practices give us a leg up over at team like the 49ers who still believe talent and coaching are the keys to victory."

Victor Wins The Lottery

Saturday, the phone rang. It was my friend Victor. He was yelling incoherently about wining. "Craig, you have to get over here right away. I finally did it. We won!"
Normally I would just ignore this outburst and go back to watching television, but I was bored and there was something just a little bit odd in his voice.
When I got to his house, Arlene answered the door.
"Vic asked me to come over."
"I'm sorry but you've missed him."
"That's odd. He just called me. Where did he go?"
"I just got here myself but he left a note," Arlene replied
The note said he was in Moorhead, "Meet me downtown."
This was becoming a wild goose chase; yet I was still game.

As I approached 8th Street, I could see Victor running down the street with what looked like a gun in his hand. He waved me over.
"Craig I won. We won!" Vic shouted as I got out of the car.
"What are you talking about?"
"You know we've always talked about breaking down and buying a MN lottery ticket?"
"Yes?"
"Well, I was at M&H getting some gas. I decided to buy a ticket. By the way you owe me 50 cents. And it was a winner."
"So what did you win, this plastic squirt gun?" I joked.
"Two .. Million.. Dollars!!"
"You're shitting me!"
"No it's true. But there is a catch. Today was the last day of the lottery. You can buy up to $2,000,000 worth of products using this wedding registration gun. It has to be in Minnesota too. Today is the last day and it's already getting late- most of the stores have closed."
"If I understand this machine all you have to do is point it at the UPC code, so even if the store is closed if you can beam through the window and it will work."
As if to test the theory he turned around and bought a $12 model B-17 airplane.
"Hey it works."
"That maybe true but what are doing downtown, get over to the Moorhead Center Mall. Better yet try the car dealership," I said.

About the then the cops pulled around the corner with their lights flashing.
"Put that thing behind your back. Take my keys and I'll stay to explain. I'll meet you at the Moorhead Center Mall."
Victor quietly slipped into my van.

I was manhandled and driven to the ground. Thankful I wasn't tasered. I took me half an hour to explain. The problem was they weren't listening. I finally got them to call M&H and confirm my story.

When the police dropped me off at the Moorhead Center Mall, I found Victor trying to register a camera through the window of a photo store. I looked at the clock- time was up. Well, this was fun little adventure even if he didn't get much more than a kid's airplane model.
Victor was grinning, "I think I got it all!"
"How's that?"
"I think I spent all two million dollars!"
"What? Did you stop at the car dealership and buy his entire inventory?" I asked.
"No."
"Don't tell me you bought two million in jewelry at retail?"
"No."
"What did you do Teigen," I demanded.
"I bought a railroad."
I stood there dumbfounded.
"The stores were closed, I was having trouble getting this gun to work, and I only had a few minutes left, when I noticed the Land Office across the street. I asked, 'What do you have for two million dollars.' That got their attention. The hardest part was coming up with a UPC for me to scan, but the guy figured out how to generate one online, so I got a Railroad in this here gun!"
I was still dumbfounded, "What do you mean you have a railroad. What railroad?"
"It's a little bit of track, a bridge, and some rolling stock on the Glydon-Hawley Railroad."
"I've never heard of it."
"He said it was going to be a spur line that never got finished."
"I think you got taken."
"Well, lets run out there and check it out. I got the keys," Vic said while dangling a suspiciously small set of keys.

In Glydon we had to ask around. It wasn't a good sign. No one seemed to know what we were talking about. I finally call the police department, "Oh yes, Baker's Boondoggle. I can tell you where it is." The cop told us the tale of this railroad to nowhere, "It was an investment scheme that took a lot of people for a lot of money. I hope you boys aren't involved."

When we got to the shed I could see the sign hanging by one screw. But I knew it must be the place by all the profanity sprayed on the sides. The key fit the lock and we went inside. You couldn't see anything and of course there was no power. We walked around this 20-foot square shed and tripped over the rails leading into a side door.
Victor was opened the lock and slid open the door.
I asked, "I wonder what rolling stock the railroad owns?"
Sunlight illuminated the contents of the shed after Vic opened the door.
"You got to be kidding me. A handcart!" I yelled.
"But it's an electric handcart. And it shows a partial charge. Craig, let's go look at our railroad."
"I haven't given you the 50 cents yet and I'm not sure I'm going to."

I had to push the handcart to get it moving, but once rolling it picked up speed. We got to the Buffalo River and there stood our bridge. It looked in good shape but I was no engineer.
"I'm not going over that thing."
"I'm sure it's safe. It's designed for thousand ton trains and all we have is a handcart."
"Okay, but you're killing me here- lets just home not literally."

Once we safely crossed the bridge I had to admit it was a nice bridge. We continued down the railroad…
… about a block. The railroad ended as abrupt as it begun.
"Victor this isn't much of a railroad."
"Yes, I guess you're right."

Months went by. Victor did some research and found there was some salvage value but not much. The Minnesota Lottery commission was quiet about awarding this prize. The only winner was the Land Office.

One day Victor stopped by with an old green army bag.
"I found it down by the bridge. It was half buried. It has some open reel tapes I thought you might like."
"Ah, no." I replied, "I have no interest in old decayed tapes."
"But they're in pretty good shape, except this one, which had fallen out of the duffle bag and was half buried in the dirt. "
I thought I would humor Victor, so we looked through the bag. There were half a dozen open reel tapes and some personal effects. We looked through all the paperwork and found a name Otto Herman. The effects seem to date back to 1962. It was a mixture of English and German. Otto appeared to have come from Hamburg. We surmised he was probably a sailor riding the rails across America. Otto stopped in Moorhead and joined a rail crew working on this bridge to make a little money. He lost his tapes and books in a poker game. They had been sitting here since then.

Victor kept asking me about the tapes. Well he is my friend. I got my open reel out of the attic and spooled up one of the reels. The tapes played too fast. My Akai will go down to 3-3/4 inches per second but this was obviously recorded at 1-7/8 ips. I recorded it to my computer and cut the speed in half. I laughed at the old time polka music. Victor will get a kick out of this. I recorded the other reels of tape. Finally I scrapped the dried mud off the remaining reel. It was still dirty and I didn't want to screw up my Akai- even if I don't use it anymore. I got some distilled water and soaked the reel. Then I replaced the water and did this a couple more times. Finally I carefully un-spooled the tape and washed every inch of the tape. I let it dry and then re-spooled the tape.

"Kaiserkeller/Casbah Club" was penciled on the side of the reel. When I played the tapes they sounded vaguely familiar. But it wasn't until the tapes were slowed down on the computer that I realized, "This is the Beatles!"
I thought to myself, "Obviously this is just a copy of the Star Club tapes." But when I checked they weren't the same.

Victor was more interested in the polka tapes. "I could use them as a theme song for the Railroad!"
"What? What the hell are you talking about? Didn't you hear what I said, 'I've found early Beatle tapes.' They could be worth a small fortune. They will more than make up for your little railroad disaster."
Vic's eyes lit up, "You're right. With the money these Beatles tapes will bring we can probably finish building the railroad."

Wrestle The Platypus

It was a hot summer afternoon in early June 1974. I was at my first Civil Air Patrol (CAP) encampment at Camp Grafton on the shores of Devils Lake. I was only 13 years old but had been a member of the Fargo CAP for about six months. My hut-mates and I were trying to cool off. This was difficult because we had been marching in the parade field for a couple hours in a green fatigues with white T-shirts underneath, heavy black combat boots, and green baseball hats. Some of the cadets had fainted in the sun. They had not learned the secret to standing at attention for long periods of time- keep you knees bent. Our galvanized metal huts were already hot under the sun. There was no breeze, but we were not authorized to go anywhere else.

Some older cadets appeared at our open door.

"Anderson, Maas, and Stein, Fall In."

My hut-mates and I quickly moved outside and stood at attention.

"At ease."

We moved easily to a relaxed position with our legs spread and hands behind our backs.

"Because you are new cadets and have never been to encampment before, we feel it is time for you become acquainted with the traditions of CAP encampment. Traditions that if not followed would lessen your enjoyment of encampment and would possibly jeopardize you future in CAP. We're going on a little mission."

"Sir, what mission?" asked Stein.

"Well, Airman First Class Stein, we will tell you when we get there. Now, right face, 'harch. Forward... March!"

Off we went down the line of metal huts. The younger cadets looking on questioning. The older cadets were laughing. We didn't know what to think. Nothing at encampment is ever good. We turned away from the parade field and toward the lake. At least we would not be doing more close order drill.

When we got down to the shoreline, the three of us were ordered to take off our hats, shirt, boots and stocks.

"Now, roll up you fatigues and wade into the lake," barked the Sergeant!

I looked at Stein. He shrugged his shoulders. Anderson said, "Well, at least we'll cool off a little in the lake."

As we waded into the lake two fisherman in a boat about 100 yards out turned and pointed in our direction.

"Gentlemen, we're looking for a Platypus," The Sergeant looked at each one of us and then continued, "we have reason to believe there is a Platypus in this location. Your job is to find it and wrestle it into this net." With that he proceeded to hand a weighted fishnet to Anderson.

Anderson looked at the net and said, "Sergeant, there aren't any Platypus in North Dakota."

Stein piped up and said, "Yeah, they're in Australia or something."

The Sergeant turned toward me. (Even as an Airman First Cass I knew nothing good would come from arguing with an officer or the Sergeant.) I said nothing. The Sergeant turn back to Stein and Anderson, "Well then I don't suppose it would do any good to look for it would it."

"No Sergeant," Stein and Anderson said in unison.

"Then you two can put your uniforms back on and report to Major Henderson in the parade field for a fine afternoon of marching."

Stein and Anderson looked crest fallen in the beautiful cool lake. Stein was the first to come to his senses, "Sergeant, I believe I may have been mistaken. I think I read somewhere that wild Platypus have been spotted on this very lake. And because they are not indigenous to Devils Lake they need to be captured and removed."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you have decided to rejoin our little mission. What about you Anderson."

Anderson wasn't about to claim there were Platypus in Devils Lake but he also wasn't about to pass up wading in the cool lake rather than spend the afternoon marching in the hot sun. "Sergeant, I'm already wet, and if there is a Platypus in this lake and if Maas and Stein can coral it toward me, I'll catch it in this net."

"Outstanding Gentlemen!"

Stein and I waded further in the water, not too concern about getting wet. The Sergeant and his buddies encouraged us to moved down the shoreline and into deeper water. Stein who was a couple steps in front of me stepped into a hole and disappeared. I stopped not knowing what to do. He popped up a moment later. The Sergeant was laughing, his buddies were laughing, the fishermen in the boat were laughing. Even Anderson was stifling a laugh behind me. I could only wonder if it had been me in the lead- would they have fished me out or let me drown?

I went around the hole carefully probing with my feet. As I took point, Stein and Anderson were behind me. I made my way closer to the shore, we were approaching a point where the shore jutted out with some trees and foliage. It was then I thought I heard something in the foliage. Now I didn't really believe there was a Platypus within a thousand miles of this lake, but you never know. The Sergeant told us to be careful; he seemed so sure of himself. I made the hand-sign to hold up. I worked my way into deeper water and around the point. I signaled Stein to take a position 90 degrees off mine and for Anderson to bring up the net.

The Sergeant and his buddies grew quiet. The fishermen put down their poles. The three of us got closer and closer to the source of the noise. Just as we were about to make an unbreakable chain, the Platypus jumped up and headed for Anderson. Anderson panicked and dropped the net, but his splashing scared the Platypus back in Stein's direction. This gave me enough time to grab the net and toss it over the Platypus and Stein.

Stein yelled and thrashed about, "Get it off me, get it off me! The Platypus is attacking me."

I grabbed the side of the net and pulled it tight around the Platypus and off Stein. Stein moved back and fell over into the lake. Anderson was already halfway to the shore. Sergeant was yelling, "Maas, what the hell do you have?!"

"Sergeant I have either caught the ugliest Platypus in existence or we have caught a duck." I said this my loudest military voice.

A second later I could hear the bark of laughter coming from the boat on the lake, followed by "Oh crap, the fishing poles!"

This caused the Sergeant and his buddies to roar with even more laughter. They were rolling on the beach and verbally beating each other with the punchline. Even Anderson stopped his panicked run to shore to stop, turn around, and see what evil beast he had narrowly avoided.

Of course we let the poor duck go. But I became the hero of the encampment. Every time the Sergeant told the story it became funnier and I became more important. At dinner that evening, Sergeant tapped his glass, "Gentleman, a toast to the hero of Encampment 1974, Airman First Class Maas." Two hundred cadets stood as one, gave a hurrah, swallowed down their milk, and then laughed for five straight minutes.

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Where does this Story come from?

I have two nephews, aged 10 and 8. I started reading the older one stories at a very early age. One night I was babysitting and decided to tell him a bedtime story based on my own childhood. This was very popular. I've always been blessed with a vivid and creative imagination. Whenever it's bedtime and I'm over at my sister's house I hear, "Can uncle Craig make up a bedtime story for us?"

I rarely have one ready or even a topic. I asked them, "What's the story about?" and they throw out some ideas. My stories range from true but exaggerated events in my childhood, to comic farce, to Superheroes, to amalgamations of real life events and fiction. Often I take whatever topic the boys bring up and just start talking. I find the stories seem to tell themselves.

The older nephew likes stories about my life: the adventures I had with my childhood friend, and my adventures in Civil Air Patrol as a young cadet. The younger nephew likes cartoons. Recently he has become very interested in animals, marine life, and Australia. This is why he has the Platypus on his mind. As I told the story he became the Platypus I wrestled, and the story was loosely based on the classic 'Snipe Hunt'.

The Civil Air Patrol (CAP) encampment was held at Camp Grafton on the shores of Devils Lake. CAP Cadet squadrons ranged in ages from 12 to 18, at which time you would graduate to the Adult squadron. Our role was to prepare for the military and also do Search and Rescue missions (S&R) for missing air craft. During summer encampment all the CAP squadrons around the state would arrive at Camp Grafton where we would: March, Study, March, Play War Games, March, Work Kitchen Patrol (KP), March, Awake in the middle of the night for Fire Watch, March, and go on short field trips to the Grand Forks Air Force Base. Oh yes, did I tell you we did a lot of marching? The Fargo Squadron was the largest, most active, and craziest CAP Squadron in the state- and from what I read in the national newsletter- the country.

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Postscript

I started this story a couple days after I made it up. I only got a few paragraphs done of the story and the background information and then it sat for month. Too long for me to really finish the story as it was told. I'll have to tell a slightly different story.

I also was looking at my Journal Addendum and found some CAP info including some names. Our Cadet Commander was Lt. Col. Kelly A. Vorachek.There was another Lt. Col. who was crazy (in a funny way) he was the leader of the maroon berets. I was awarded a 'CAP new member for 1973' on 2-25-1974. I think I quit right after 1975 CAP encampment or the Fall of 1975 after the Bismarck S&R mission. Some interesting names that appear in my CAP newsletter: Mark & Paul Finstad, Kevin Fitzgerald, Joe McPherson, Scott Brottlund, Chris Koesterman, Debbi Hinton, Max Roesler. Max was a little kid (when I read about Ortner abusing some small kid in CAP this is who I think of.) Joe was like a Sergeant, as was Kevin but I get the feeling Kevin started later than me and raced past me. I left with 4 or 5 stripes but was never too interested in getting ahead, just getting out.