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mrray13

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One day... biggrin.png

Start against a wall. When I was 250ish I was able to be on my hands for nearly one minute. Practice every day.

One of the other best ways is to practice one handed cartwheels. They build the trunk you need.

Another great way is to practice in the pool.

Splits are on your own, I learned by 2 instructors grabbing my legs and a third pushing down on my shoulders.

One day... biggrin.png

Start against a wall. When I was 250ish I was able to be on my hands for nearly one minute. Practice every day.

One of the other best ways is to practice one handed cartwheels. They build the trunk you need.

Another great way is to practice in the pool.

Splits are on your own, I learned by 2 instructors grabbing my legs and a third pushing down on my shoulders.

I added handstand work to my routine a few months ago, and have a pretty good idea of all the progressions, so I should be able to do it...in four years. :P

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Right now I'm doing 5 sets of 35 seconds against the wall, with wrists about 3" from wall. Progressing at a reasonable rate for the time being.

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Also would like to be able to do handstand push ups. Just need to find something to put my feet up for the progressions.

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Barrack Obama wiped the sweat from his brow. The debate hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped—Mitt Romney was a fierce competitor. Well, he know getting re-elected wouldn’t be easy.

The President lay on the couch and loosened his tie. At least he finally had a few minutes to himself—he hadn’t had any “me” time since he’d hit the campaign trail. He was sure nobody would mind if he dawdled in his dressing room for a few minutes.

Obama closed his eyes and dreamed of crushing Romney in the election. But his fantasy was interrupted as the door flew open and in stepped his opponent himself.

“I want to talk to you, Mr. President!” shouted Mitt Romney.

“Romney? What are you doing here? And how did you get past the Secret Service?”

“I guess they’re not very good at their jobs. That’s what happens when you cut the military’s budget!”

Obama, angered, stood up. “You’ve got some nerve coming in here, Mitt.” He jabbed at the candidate’s chest, inadvertently noticing how sinewy the man’s chest was. “Shouldn’t you be hobnobbing with your ultra-rich friends?”

Mitt Romney was surprised by how much passion the President was showing. And he certainly looked dashing in his Armani suit. Mitt shook his head. He couldn’t get distracted—he was here on a mission.

“I’m here on a mission, Mr. President! Your attitude towards me in tonight’s debate was despicable, to say nothing of your recent attack ads. I demand that you cease this negative campaigning at once!”

Obama wiped spittle from his face. Romney’s conviction was impressive, he’d give the man that much. “Ha, you’re one to talk! Your campaign is even dirtier than mine!”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Barack! You better start playing clean, or you’ll see just how dirty I can get!” As the argument grew in intensity, Mitt suddenly found himself feeling very hot. He took off his jacket and threw it to the ground to show he meant business.

Obama, also feeling the heat, mimicked the motion. He took a step towards his rival, in an attempt to intimidate him. But Romney held his ground, leaving the two men standing nose to nose.

“Trust me, Mitt. I can play just as dirty as you,” said Obama.

The President’s breath was hot on Romney’s face. “Is that a fact, Mr. President?” he asked.

“You’re damn right. Not that you’d know what a fact is.” Obama sounded tough, but he found himself mesmerised by the other man’s steely eyes.

“I know it’s a fact that I’m going to beat you,” said Romney. He had never been this close to the President before; had never noticed how strong and firm his face was.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” whispered Obama.

“Oh, very much.”

They weren’t sure who initiated the kiss—all they knew was that it had been a long time coming. The animosity built up by months of vitriolic campaigning melted away in one sudden moment of passion.

The kiss felt like it lasted longer than months of Congressional gridlock. And even when their lips came apart, their bodies remained entwined. They felt mutual arousal at tasting the ultimate forbidden fruit—the opposite party.

“Take your shirt off, Mitt,” said Obama sultrily. “That’s an executive order.”

“I’ll be the one giving the executive orders before long,” said Romney. But he did as he was told. As Obama stood back to admire the shirtless Republican, Romney shoved him to the couch. “Come on, Mr. President,” he said as he whipped off his belt, “Let’s have a grand old party.”

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wub.png

Whom you meant to adore was Sara Jean Underwood. A quick google with the words naked yoga included wouldn't suck.

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wub.png

Whom you meant to adore was Sara Jean Underwood. A quick google with the words naked yoga included wouldn't suck.

I see the light!

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Just skimmed through her playboy yoga video. I would have to agree.

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i think im going to rebuild.

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I had that thought today as well...completely different rebuild though.

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Sara Underwood? Seriously? I guess I wouldn't kick her out of bed for eating crackers.....

She actually is part of the G4 TV programming. Funny stuff.

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Shitty cell phone pic from lunch yesterday

photobucket-18872-1349407125893.jpg

Had some gas to burn.

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damn i wanna have lunch with you!

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If you are wearing MJ sunglasses you could see the fish in the lake.

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Not at this time of year Neal. They spooked out deeper. The water is about to turn. In 2-3 weeks again you'll be able to. There's about a 4-6 week spot that you happened to pick for rather poor timing. :P

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:)

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Looks nice Sean. I love this weather.... though I didn't up on the ladder today.

Brrrrrr blood hasn't thickened today. And with my joints hurting my circulation is not so good.

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Walked past the Kitchen Window the other day. They had ultra thick reinforced red solo cups.

It was almost to awesome and too corny to pass up. But I did. Still quite hoot.

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I love the end of this... no doubt it's safe.... yet will still take 10 years to check out. Faaaawwwk.

http://www.ncbi.nlm....or-three-years/

"Intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) is a medication made by harvesting antibodies from donated blood. It is currently used to treat severe forms of infection and a number of autoimmune conditions (where the immune system attacks healthy tissue)."

why such rigorous testing if its already being used?

seems like a cure will be too late for someone like my grandmother. hopefully they'll figure it out, such a terrible disease.

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For fucks sake I hurt. Just agony. I am too old to be limping and listening to my wrists and hips snap and pop.

This is unbearable. 4 ibu and a 30 min shower in water almost too hot to tolerate just to get relaxed enough to sleep? I am only 30!!!!!

:shakes fists at the cruel fates:

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