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Zeppelins on Patrol?
Our Man In Redmond writes "Everything old is new again: The Seattle Post-Inteligencer is reporting that NORAD is considering deploying zeppelins along the west coast and Canadian border to keep an eye out for terrorists. Larger than jumbo jets, easier to repair/upgrade than satellites, this may be an idea whose time has come. Again."
The HUMANITY!!!
no, you are 100% of the most stupid.
thanks.
First Bug!
Actually, the physical charactersitics of a lighter-than-air vehicle colliding with a solid object are pretty peculiar. Let me begin by saying this: I grew up in Richmond, California. That is a town in the San Francisco on the northeast corner of the bay. I was the younger girl of three. My sisters were four and six years older then me. We were like most sisters; we didn't get along will with each other because we were always fighting for our own space and I was childish to my sisters.
I was an average student in school and had a few friends. I was a little shorter that the average child my age. The worst thing socially was that I was chubby. Boys were cruel to me and the popular girls treated me like pond scum. My parents gave me the name Toni. You know that I was called "Two Ton Toni." The only friend I had was a girl that had a purple birthmark on the side of her face. She was as much a social outcast as me.
Every year we would call each other as soon as we found out what teacher we had. We were crushed if we did not have the same teacher. We were lucky enough that kindergarten to the fifth grade we were only separated in the third grade. That was a terrible year for both of us. When we found out we
would be in the same class we were overjoyed.
We would rush over to each other's home in our glee. Our mother's treated each other as a member of the family. When other girls started talking about boys and making out with them, Tina and I were left out. Our interest in sex was just as strong as the other girls but we were not the objects of boy's desires.
That led to us experimenting with kissing each other in our bedrooms. Tina's Mom walked into Tina's bedroom, one day as she was delivering cocoa and cookies. She caught us in a passionate French kiss. She didn't say anything. She just put her tray on the bed and left the room, closing the door behind her. Tina and I were embarrassed at being caught in an erotic position even if we didn't really know what we were doing. As the days passed we both almost forgotten about being caught kissing each other.
We resumed our sexual exploration. The kisses progressed to fondling each other's breasts. Being heavy I had what is called baby fat tits at an early age. Tina loved to play with them because she was flat bosomed. It was during this time that our bodies were undergoing dramatic changes.
We started noticing changes in our bodies. Our breasts became sore to the touch. That drew our attention even more to the feeling of an erotic pain when we touched or played with each other's breasts.
We were shocked the first time we found blood in our panties. We had sat through the sexual lectures in school but just the same we thought something was wrong when we found blood in our panties. Being the biggest girl in my class I was the first to menstruate. Tina was better prepared than me because she got to inspect my Kotex pads after my mother bought them when I showed her my bloody panties thinking something was wrong.
By the time we were settling down into a [redictable cycle. We were thrilled when we discovered that hair was starting to grow on the mound above our cracks. We knew that our mothers had hair there. We marked the appearance of hair as farther proof that we were now women.
Tina and I spent a lot of time together inspecting each other's body. We thought we were very clever hiding our activity from our mothers. We didn't know that Tina's mother had seen us on a number of times.
One day I rode my bicycle to Tina's home early one Saturday. Tina's mother answered the door and invited me in. Then she told me that Tina and her father had gone to Fresno to visit Tina's grandmother on her father's side. I was heart sick not being able to be with my only friend. I remembered that Tina had told me about the trip but had forgotten that it was this weekend.
I was about to cry in my depression when Tina's mom put her arm around me and drew me to her perfumed breast and hugged me. The salty tears made the front of her cotton housecoat wet. At one point I sat back as she was talking to me and saw that her brown nipples were visible through the worn material.
I was staring at her nipple as she looked where my eyes were focussed. She stopped talking and drew my face to her breast and held it to her ample tit. She backed up until she found a large comfortable reclining chair and sat down drawing me onto her lap.
She opened her housecoat and exposed her breast to my eyes. I reached for it and it felt softer than Tina's little breast. Her areolas were large ovals sagged with the weight of her breast. I took the nipple into my mouth and sucked it. The woman that I felt comfortable calling Mom placed her hand on the back of my head and stroked my hair.
I felt that tingle between my legs as she placed her other hand on my knee. She ran it gently up my leg until she touched the elastic of my panties. From playing with Tina my vagina was making my panties wet. Tina's mother slowly slipped her fingers under the elastic of my panty leg. She knew exactly what she was looking for and found my clitoris with her fingers. I jumped as she scraped it with her painted nail.
She lifted me up and sat me on the arm of the chair as she pulled my panties down. She pulled them off my legs one at a time. Then she lifted my skirt and admired the growth of fine hairs on my mound. I felt proud of my maturity as she praised me. Then she leaned forward and kissed my mound. No one had ever done that before to me. The thrill was more that I had ever known. When her tongue whipped my clitoris I was in heaven. I almost fell off the chair in my climax.
When I fell into her lap and she stroked my body as I recovered. I wanted to reciprocate the feeling she had provided me. I slipped to the floor in front of her. She opened her housecoat to reveal her nudity to my eyes. I had never seen an adult vagina up close. I had seen my mother trimming the hair and shaving unwanted hair under her arm and on her leg's even the unwanted hair that would show outside the confines of her panties.
Tina's mother was a surprise to me. She had a thick grown of hair that trailed up to her navel and even down the inside of her legs a couple of inches. When she moved her rear-end to the edge of the chair she spread her legs and put her heels on the edge of the chair. I was looking at her open vagina. I could see her clitoris because she was holding back the skin around it with her fingers. It looked like a little miniature male penis. The dark hair trailed down between the crease of both legs until hair ringed her anus that was a darker color wrinkled puckered skin.
She was able to control the muscles and make her anus open and close as I watched. Her vagina was an open vessel because of childbirth and I could see the corrugated walls of her cunt. I was close enough to her to feel the heat on the cheeks of my face. The smell of her wet flesh was not repellent to me. On the contrary I wanted to taste her flesh even more.
She was encouraging me to touch her body in vulgar terms. I stuck out my tongue and closed my eyes as I moved close enough to wipe her valley from anus to clitoris. I felt her shudder as I did so. She begged me to suck her clitoris. I did as she requested. She grabbed my hair with both hands and wiped her cunt with my face. On her demand I stuck my tongue as deep into her cunt as I could. I could actually feel the velvety knob of her cervix. I thought she was going to smother me before she would climax.
When she did she slide off the chair and gathered me in her arms as she kissed me. Then she apologized to me for what she had done to me. She confessed at having watched Tina and me masturbating each other for months and having masturbated herself as she watched. Then she bugged me not to tell Tina what we had done.
I kissed her on the eyes, cheeks, nose and lips as I begged her to never stop loving me. I no longer felt like a girl. She told me that we could not keep doing this without being found out. We spent the weekend making love to each other. By the time Tina and her dad got home I was deeply in love with her mother.
Haven't you followed the news? The Canadians are seriously considering legalizing marijuana, officially making them a terrorist nation! (I shit you not, check out canada.com if you don't believe me).
...and this lie crawls out of its mouth: 'I, the state, am the people.'
First Jesus, Satan and Buddha anal gangbang on Lisa Lefteye Lopez' immortal soul!
It's not going to make a whit of difference after he's nuked his own country to death, now will it? I'm assuming he wants to pre-emptively prevent terrorism by removing the target(s)
*how* many suitcase bombs are missing from the russian arsenal?
Sometimes I think we miss the old Soviet Union so much we'eve deceided to morph into it. A paranoid government that uses its vast state security infrastructure to monitor its citizens whilst the media toe the party line and filter out any news stories that could offend the leaders.
I could say more but thay are probably monitoring my key strokes...hold on there is a knock at the door...
Pray tell: What, exactly, is a "Canadian" accent? Is this one of those foolish "paint 30 million people covering 10,000,000 square kilometers with one brush" type stereotypes? There are dozens of accents within Canada, all very different. My `accent' tradition is turned as "neutral" (such as in a recent trip through the Virginas), and hard to place, versus say a New York, or Boston, or Minnesotan, or Wisconsan, or Texan accent.
And why would Canadians be running the balloons? From what I've read, they are a prospective part of NORAD protecting the coastal regions of both countries, not the borders in between (mind you, Mr. Bush has been hard at work giving the illusion of safety to a public that is so unbelievably uninformed that they buy it. You know, pretending that the REAL problem is the Canadian border, despite the fact that not a single one of the 9/11 terrorists came from Canada. I continually hear about the big problem with Canadian marijuana entering the US (all a part of the "War on Drugs" propaganda that is keeping a lot of contractors rolling in dough), and this would almost be humorous if it weren't the absolutely miniscule amount of drugs going South (far less than the drugs and guns coming to Canada from the US. The US is a far greater exporter of crime than it's an importer, which makes the posturing and lip service all the more ridiculous), but compared to the monstrous amount of drugs coming into the US via the gulf region, BC pot is absolutely trivially tiny.
I think the real problem is Canadians entering the U.S. from Canada. :)
I'm kidding.
If you are in B.C. then your accent is surely as neutral as the U.S. Pacific Northwest.
Speaking of customs and such, I've noticed that when I come back into the U.S. they ask me just a few questions:
1. "Are you all U.S. citizens?"
If yes, go to question 3.
2a. "No? Okay, what citizenships do you hold?"
2b. "Are any of you dual-citezenship, and if so, where?"
3. "Are you transporting controlled substances, alcohol, tobacco, firearms, or any items in quantity subject to duty?"
"Thanks, have a nice day."
But, going into Canada:
"Can I see some identification?"
"Where are you going?"
"What are you planning to do?"
"How long do you plan on being in Canada?"
"Which border point do you plan for you return?"
"Do you have any firearms?"
"Could you pull over here. We are going to do a 'random' search on your vehicle."
So tell me, is the reverse true for Canadians? Do our customs grill you over for your entire vacation plans and searching your vehicle far more often than should statistically be done? Or, is it just your customs being jerks?
"Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives" should be a convenience store, not a government agency.
It definitely depends on the point of crossing: When I leave Toronto (there's actual US customs in the Toronto airport), or fly to the international gate in Pittsburgh, the grilling is fairly substantial (including ID checks, and a verification that I'm not a wanted person or something by typing in my drivers license or passport numbers into their system), and you have to be very careful about what you say (the grilling has more to do with protectionism than about drugs or terrorism: Most questions are based around what sort of work you are doing, determining that you are not providing a paid service in the US, but instead are being trained or something of that sort) lest you get denied entry. I've never actually gotten searched being the normal pat down at any point.
:-)) is a bit ridiculous in ways because they hire students to assist the customs, so when you're coming in the international gate you get accosted by a phalanx of about 14 students, all acting thoroughly unprofessional, asking you questions about your trip, etc. I'm not criticizing teens, but I don't think that something as serious and liberty-invading as customs should be staffed by non-professionals.
Crossing the border by car, though, is often the basic "Where are you going and for how long?" type deal that goes by fairly quickly, or alternately just a wave through. This is not just at the Canadian border, but I've read that even the Mexican border is pretty much the same.
I understand why the Canadian border guards ask the extended questions: It's likely to find a hole in your story, if it is a story versus a reality. i.e. Asking your return port is brilliant if someone didn't actually think through their plan, and of course even if they did someone would likely get nervous about their story and cracks in their facade will appear, likely leading to a thorough cavity search. Of course this has a unwanted side effect of persecuting the naturally nervous as well (returning from Florida recently I was sure that I would be in for a thorough search: I had driven straight through and was so unbelievably tired that I'd swear I sounded like I was lying being 100% honest, but thankfully he wasn't feeling like pursuing it).
One side thing: Toronto airport (I'm from Toronto, so I can criticize it