penile enlargment secret
Are you one of the more than 1 million men in America who know they have some type of prostate problem? Then, this encouraging information is for you.
I remember when I first found out that I had the beginnings of prostate enlargement. Visions of restricted urination, cancer, surgery and eventually death, haunted me.
Research indicates that 1 in 3 men past the age of 40 will develop prostate problems. The American Cancer Society projects that over a quarter of a million men will die from Prostate cancer in the USA this year. Further statistics indicate that;
* One in six men will get prostate in his life.
* An American man dies every 18 minutes from prostate cancer - The second leading cause of male cancer in the United States.
* The chance of getting prostate cancer is one in three if you have just one close relative (father, brother) with the disease. The risk if five fold if you have two close relatives. With three, it is an almost certain (97%) that you'll get prostate cancer.
** American Cancer Society.
Enlargement of the prostate gland is known as “benign-hypertrophy”. If not prevented or treated, many times it becomes infected which is “Prostatitus”.
Research has shown that the prostate has the highest zinc content of any tissue in the body. Zinc is that one ingredient in the diet that helps prevent benign-hypertrophy or the enlargement of the prostate.
Excess cadmium is as enemy of zinc, which is required in large amounts by the prostate gland. High sugar and flour-rich foods in large amounts result in Zinc loss and cadium retention. Diet is very important. Smoking cigarettes increases cadium intake and lowers zinc levels in the prostate. The lack of sufficient good clean drinking water also inhibits the flushing out of bacteria population.
One can stop smoking and one can intake more water. But, the real kicker is the needed increase in zinc and other nutrients. We can certainly up the amount of vegetables we eat which will help, but the truth is, our food supply is so deficient in nutrients, that we cannot consume enough food to meet the demand. That is where good physician formulated natural supplements come in. I was lucky. I knew a doctor personally who formulates these supplements; and they worked for me.
But, there are several sources for these good nutrients. Some designer supplements are better than others. You will have to look around and evaluate them and chose the best. Make sure that they include Zinc Picolinate, Saw Palmetto Extract, Pygeum Africanum and preferably in a good Azyme base. Take sufficient quantities and start early, age 20 would be great!
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penile enlargment secret
The naked eye is unable to see objects that are too tiny or too far. But telescopes allow the naked eye to get a good view of distant objects. You must have heard of, seen or used a telescope.
Telescopes are devices that are endowed with magnifiers to allow you to see things magnified with a clear view. Telescopes are commonly used in science or its branches, particularly astronomy and physics.
How does a telescope work? Two lenses are installed in a telescope. This makes viewing a distant object possible. Each of the lenses has a function. The objective lens, or the primary mirror, collects the illumination radiated by the object viewed and makes it readily available in a certain focus point. The eyepiece lens picks up the vivid light from the focus point and spreads it to the retina so that viewing becomes possible.
There are various determinants to good object viewing in the telescope. An efficient telescope ought to possess the competent quality of collecting light from the object that is viewed and the capacity to magnify the image.
The diameter of the lens or the mirror employed in the telescope determines the collection of light. It is also termed aperture. Logically, the better the aperture, the more light it is able to gather. Image enlargement, however, is entirely dependent upon the blending of lenses. It is the eyepiece of the telescope that does the magnification.
The prices of telescopes vary with the specifications and capacities. You can also purchase accessories that will conjure with your telescope’s image. Whether you station a telescope on your veranda for a delightful stargazing experience, or you opt for a toy telescope, the function of the telescope remains the same -- to enable you to take a clear view of far away objects.
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Two thousand years of progress and the pinnacle of mankind’s achievement online is a website with photos of Paris Hilton after she was beaten by her former boyfriend. I am not an intellectual by any stretch of the imagination, but what is stunning to me is the amount of garbage there is floating around on the Internet.
On any given day you are bombarded with ads for penis enlargement, hit with spyware, and receive messages from some person in Africa claiming to be a prince that wants to share his fortune with you. I recently saw an advertisement from a company telling me to click on the banner to remove advertisements on my computer. My response and yours should always the same to this bombardment of substandard waste. Run Lava Soft’s Ad Aware when finished surfing the net, try your best to shield your eyes from the ads, tell the guy from Liberia his check is in the mail, and if necessary ask the good people at the “Rhino Penis Company” how much they want.
The sites I go to, when I am done with that cavalcade of gallstone inducing madness that is my email account, are the news sites. I get my news, maybe a few cheap laughs, and then I sign off. Not as exciting as say putting a stick of dynamite down my throat and trying to put out the fuse before it blows, but this kills time between classes and keeps me sharp. I never know when someone is going to regurgitate what he or she saw on the news and misinterpret it to make a point in class. You should never believe everything you read, and you should not form an opinion on something without all the facts. All because The New York Post makes things up does not mean you should either.
Every website out there looks exactly the same. Almost all of the sites that I had a chance to check out were either a cheap knock off of a popular site, or the site amounted to another Norman Rockwell who took their PHP mastery or some such nonsense, gave it a sleek "look at me I'm a nerd" design, and piled on everything they thought they could that would get people to go to their site.
Now you have these blogs popping up everywhere like a foot rash. I loathe blogs because most of the time it is some unqualified, blithering, teenager yapping endlessly about what they think about George Bush or waxing philosophical on such intellectual matters as whether to scratch their behind with the left or right hand. And then of course you have the blogs that just focus on celebrities and offer snarky comments that a 3-year-old chimp named Ooka could top. The media needs to stop their love affair with blogs and “citizen journalists.” There is too much danger in this flash journalism style that people will be harmed. The unfortunate events of the media misreporting the coal miner tragedy in West Virginia will happen again under “flash journalism.”
It seems to me we have been on a downward spiral in terms of what we expect for entertainment and the Internet reflects our low standards. So I say go to your usual sites, stay informed so you don’t turn into a blithering blogger, and for the love of everything holy run Lavasoft’s Ad Aware or some kind of spyware protection when you are done.
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A plumber came round to my house today. This in itself was all well and good. He was a lovely guy by the name of Dennis, clearly very experienced, and he got the job done in an unexpectedly short couple of hours. I'd been bracing myself for a hot-water-free weekend, so it was a very pleasant surprise to have the problem fixed so quickly.
In order to assist Dennis in finding the information he needed to mend my water heater, I looked up the manufacturer's details on the Internet, with Dennis looking over my shoulder, helping. Within a few minutes, Dennis had called his boss, who called the manufacturer, who explained the solution to Dennis's boss, who explained the solution to Dennis, who fixed the problem. Presto.
Dennis and I were quite pleased with ourselves, and congratulated each other profusely on our combined ingenuity.
After Dennis had left, I got back to my laptop to find that the two websites that I'd been editing before he arrived had been clearly on view throughout his visit. These websites were, let's just say, 'in the experimental stages', and were designed to draw a large number of hits, thereby generating a bit of advertising revenue for this pauper of a writer.
One was called 'Living Sober - Without AA'.
The other was called 'Free Penis Enlarger'.*
I'm not embarrassed about it though. It's a simple mistake which anybody could make.
* I feel obliged to add, for the sake of my own self-esteem, that this site was in fact devoted to images of beautiful women!
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22 March, l968
As it turned out, Johnny would visit Jill’s room off and on during the following weeks. And that strange woman that left the Belmont’s room brought along another woman, and on occasion, he’d catch her on her way down the steps and invite her into his room, although she’d had preferred ‘Jill,’ so she said.
Tasma was not aware of most of this, but a little. Also, she had received at this time several letters from home by her parents, in particular her father, but she did not respond back. She was not certain what to say, she loved them, and Jill assured them she was fine, but it was too stressful for her to talk or write them. She did have a profound desire to please her father, and wishful thinking to please her mother, but it seemed she needed to learn how to please herself first, and to Jill, she did not blame them for anything, not anymore anyway. And had she started a communicational dialogue, they may have persuaded her to return, the one thing she did not want at this time.
—Jill was in the kitchen—the ironing board was pulled out from an inner-cabinet built into the wall, a wall-unite if you will, it was kept snugly in, in which there was a door attached to it; Jill was ironing Tommy and Johnny’s cloths, another lover circle had stared. Both were arranged in separate piles. Mrs. Belmont was sitting at the table talking seriously to her; it was most unusual thought Tasma, for seldom did she see Mrs. Belmont other than at the bar talking to Jill. As Tasma neared them to join them, the subject—whatever it was—changed, and what appeared on Mrs. Belmont’s face was an un-cheerful smile, not unusual, but quite sudden, and it was apparent. Consequently, feeling a little awkward she left the kitchen to work on her diary-novel (some poems), in the living room in her usual spot; in effect, she could overhear bits and pieces now of their conversation. It didn’t occur to her to get up and leave, rather the opposite; she actually pretended to be busy writing and was simply drawing a picture undiscernibly.
“It’s been going on for a while mom, I didn’t think it was, I mean it would end up like this.”
“Get rid of him, or all of them.”
“No, no, I don’t think Johnny will go so easy. He likes me, and thinks he can have me, and he has me of course.”
“What about Tommy?”
“I like him, I like him a lot, but that’s the problem, I don’t love him, I just like him.”
“He’s what you need though. He’s more anchored.”
[With scorn] “What the hell does anchored mean!” said Jill.
“Ok, ok, I could have used a better term, Tommy likes to work and go to school, he’ll be somebody someday.”
“Tommy doesn’t pay you a dime; Johnny does and Johnny works hard.”
“Yes, he works hard all right, hard at drinking, screwing you and god knows who else—smoking that weed.”
“So Tommy was screwing me and working.”
“You’re going to lose him to that cousin of yours if you don’t hang on to him.”
“Tasma,” she looked at Tasma reading, “you got to be kidding, she’s as naïve as a sparrow.”
“So you say: does a pineapple come from a pine tree?”
“No,” said Jill apprehensive, “now what does that mean?”
“She’s not the little girl she was three, four months ago, or is it five or more? She has a good shape, and pretty face, and if Tommy can’t see it, I can. And so can a lot of men at the bar. Anyhow, Tasma is not the issue, Johnny and Tommy are.”
(A long pause came, then with a cracking voice, and an almost whisper, she leaned over to her mother, and Tasma leaned over the arm of her chair): “I think I’m pregnant…”
“Ay caramba,” she said in a sigh that slurred all the way to Tasma’s ears, “…now what?”
“It’s Johnny’s, not Tommy’s, Tommy uses a rubber, and Johnny thinks it is not manly to do so.” It was momentarily hard for Jill to look her mother in the face; she was at this time, pacing the floor in a small circle as her mother followed her with her eyes.
“Listen Jill, Johnny’s drinking with all the gang members at the bar, and he’s gambling, it’s just a matter of time before he gets in trouble with them.” (Some of the gang members had motorcycles, others cars, it was somewhat an unofficial bunch of criminals, in that they were but twenty of them that hung out at a number of bars).
23 Shan’t be a Minute
Tasma found herself walking upstairs to her room, it was quieter in the kitchen, and figured, she had heard enough, a voice said, “Where are you going?” it was Jill, polite but to the point.
“Shan’t be a moment,” was her answer. She wanted to tuck away her diary-novel, she had written some exposing things in it. And so she tucked away, under her pillow, as if it was safe, and her place was off limits to others, which in presumption it seemed to be. For the most part, she did not want to leave it laying about for someone to pick up accidentally.
Life had seemed uncomplicated she thought, and now with Jill’s mother it seemed somewhat speculative, if not downright disjointed. It had now crossed her mind Tommy would find out the secret, the secret being Johnny’s behavior and her being pregnant, or so she said she was, and ‘I know about it,’ she felt as if she was a betrayer, be it to Jill or Tommy, or even Johnny. Down the stairway, into the living room she went. She looked outside through the bay-window and there was Mrs. Alice Whitehead getting into the car, she looked at Tasma, Tasma waved at her, she was a nice old lady, and it always seemed to her she had concern on her face for her.
As she turned around looking towards the kitchen she noticed Mrs. Belmont sorting out bills: ‘I suppose she’s done talking to Jill now,’ was her thinking.
“I talked to your mother a few days ago Tasma, she’s doing well and I told her likewise, you were doing well.” Tasma simply made a polite gesture, no verbal adjectives.
“I want to do something today, a surprise, come with me,” asked Tasma, for some odd reason something had popped into her head.
“What, may I ask, is on that devious mind of yours?” laughed Jill.
—Tasma and Jill were gone for several hours, and arrived back home at about 6:00 PM. Johnny and Tommy were sitting in the living room watching TV. As they both walked into the house, both the boys were somewhat taken back a bit at Tasma’s appearance—if not down right, star-struck. Her long reddish hair was cut to where it reached only the nape of her neck. And she was wearing more makeup than she had before, the result: she looked a little fresher and less school-girlish, than before. Thought Tommy, ‘…before she seemed more delicate and fragile..,’ as he glanced at the poise she displayed as she smiled and stood in the middle of the room awaiting the verdict of the two young throbbing hearts, the heart breakers themselves. Johnny noticed her slender bones, and her nicely shaped neck was more defined (front and back). Tommy for some reason noticed her neatly-set breasts, small as they were—just above her small waist they were a hand full no more. Yet her slyness somewhat removed, still left her with a harmless effect. Her nervousness was repressed for the most part.
Along with all that, with all the money she had saved up, she also purchased some bath salts, talcum powder and a small mirror, which she duplicated for Jill as a gift for allowing her to stay. She had spent her $100-dollars she had saved.
For some odd reason, Tasma had glanced back into the kitchen, expecting to see Mrs. Belmont, but of course was not surprised when she was not there, she usually would go to the bar around this time, either she had missed her, or she was in her room preparing to go. The boys looked at one another in jest, and laughed.
Said Johnny with his normal side joking way, “So now you’ve grown up, welcome to the real world kid, looks like you’re willing to join us.”
Tasma knew Johnny’s ways and knew that was better left alone.
“It makes you feel good,” commented Jill; meaning spending money on oneself for preservation purposes, or simply for a change in one’s life. But there was concern in Jill’s unseen eyes, in her cerebellum. She was no psychologist, like Skinner or Pavlov with his salivating dogs (who worked on association), but the boys were kind of salivating, restlessly slobbering might be a better way of putting it, if not downright uneasy, with this new Tasma look.
Everyone had gone to bed now, it was Jill’s turn to sit downstairs in the sofa-chair for once, wondering, thinking, not sure of her next move. ‘I just don’t get it,’ she asked herself, ‘why am I so attracted to Johnny, and going with Tommy? Tasma wouldn’t have the answer even if I asked her, nor mom, facts are facts, feelings are feelings, I don’t sense they are neither right or wrong, they just are. Johnny makes love as if he was a mad man and seems almost barbaric, and I think of him when I make love to Tommy—it’s just unthinkable. I wonder how Tommy’s new book will turn out. Can you love two people at once, at one time? A good question; I think I do, or maybe it is lust, how do I know, I’m just…(pause) will be nineteen in a month. Mom said: love is a choice. I say love is a feeling. I wonder what Tasma would say. I know Tommy feels love through his penis, like Johnny, all men do, kind of, sort of—most of the time; but Tommy is more willing to be dedicated, I think. I have learned men are attracted by looking, but I like touch.’
On her way to her bedroom, she stopped at Tasma’s room, knocked lightly, “Can I come in just for a moment?” she asked.
“Why sure you can,” answered Tasma with a thoughtful voice.
“I had a great day with you today, and thanks again for the things you bought me (this was a good lead-in she thought to bait her for a question to be soon asked), but I have a question, somehow I think you’re going to oversimplify the answer but I’ll ask it anyhow. How do you know if you’re in love with a person?”
Surprisingly, Tasma answered Jill with foreknowledge, “You mean you are having a hard time trying to figure who you want, Tommy or Johnny?”
(A tight look went over Jill’s face.) “Yes, yes, that is where I’m coming from; I didn’t know it was so obvious.”
“It’s becoming obvious Jill, it was the first day Johnny came through the door, and it has progressively taken a greater shape to it. But in regards to your answer, I’ve never been in love so I might be the wrong person to ask, but I do know this, as simple as it may be: if I wanted to go out with Johnny, I couldn’t be in love with Tommy—that much. I mean, I’d think whoever you were in love with—you’d not want to go out with anyone else; you’d kind of want to stop shopping around for another person, or so I believe. If I was to get married, I’d not want to go out with anyone else: and if I did, I’d know that I was not ready for marriage, to him or anyone, if that makes any sense.”
But to Jill it made all the sense in the world. She was sleeping with Tommy at night, and wanted to be with Johnny.
“What do you think I should do?” asked Jill.
“I think you already know; I don’t think I need to say anymore. My heart is with you, no matter what the outcome is.” Then Tasma hugged her tightly.
24 Reset
As the next two weeks passed a kind of silence took over the house, people talked less to one another, I suppose you could say, Jill was the life of the house, and now she was deep in thought. Everyone tried to keep busy and pretend things were normal, but they of course knew they were not. The Belmont’s kept their normal schedule, and the pretense lingered.
Tasma had finished up with Tommy’s book on San Francisco, and had explained to him how she liked the ending of ‘Bustling,’ by his fake name Colleen Grant; she commented to Tommy: “The younger woman fell in love with the older man, but she had psychological issues, and she was too fragile for him to care for her emotional illness, and he was too sick biologically for her to care for him. It was a sad ending I thought, but had they married: love would not have been enough, as they wished, they’d both had ruined the life of the other. Yet they remained friends as they parted, matter of fact they remained friends until he died at the age of eighty-years old, and her, at eighty-two.” She then read a poem she was working on for him: “I haven’t put it in my book or diary yet, but here it is I’ll read it to you from the paper (Tommy sat inquisitively on the edge of her bed):
The Maiden from Seattle
When she walked into the light The door to life, grew black as
Night, And her earth began to swell
(This youthful beauty of Seattle);
At first glance— Fell this youth from high Aching to touch the morning sky.
Who dare take this maiden’s hand? To help her though this silent land! Ah! From hair, to heart, to breast:
Like faded flowers in the ground Fleshless alms, could not be found, And so she remains—bound!
Said Tommy in surprise, “I like it, I think a little or maybe a lot of you is in the poem; I think you’re going to be a Mrs. Plath, or Dickinson some day.”
—The following day Tommy had come into Tasma’s room unexpectantly, “Are you still writing your story?” he asked.
She looked at Tommy, “Just some poems, and dairy notes, really haven’t gotten into the plot or theme of anything in particular yet; not sure how to get it going.”
“Let me see, maybe I can help you” he said. Yet Tasma was still bewildered of his rudeness to just kind of enter at will; she liked him and didn’t want to scare him away, on the other hand, she was not going to join any love-circle.
She leaped quickly to her pillow, then it dawned on her, she had much information in it about Johnny, Jill, Tommy and, none other but the: The Lady in Black, as she referred to her in the diary. But had she not jumped, she thought afterwards, had she not jumped she’d had not given away her hiding place, although it was no vault for sure—I mean, a mouse could have found it had it looked for it.
“I, I have too many personal things in it, private things, I’d rather you not see,” said Tasma as she currently held the book in the middle of her chest; as she got off the bed with her one knee, fully turning about now, she tripped on her shoe and the book fell, Tommy quickly grabbed it and opened it. Tasma saw him reading it, and needed to do something quick, she grabbed it out of his hands and jumped on the bed, her dress flying above her waist showing her underwear and all.
Somehow Tommy found the child in him, and jumped on her bed trying to grab the diary from her as they rolled around in the bed; now Tommy hovering over her, his legs between hers.
“What are you two up to?” questioned a voice in the background, it was Jill: she had heard the ruckus.
“My fault, I was trying to get her diary from her, I started to read something quite interesting,” he looked at Jill halfheartedly. Had he gone back any farther, thought Tasma: The Lady in Black was there.
Jill looked at Tasma in an indefatigably way, “I see I wasn’t invited to the party—”and slipped off to her bedroom where she just looked out the window aimlessly. In a way it didn’t bother her about what she’d seen, but on the other hand, she was jealous. When Tommy left the bedroom to join Jill he didn’t know whose child it was; he had only read up to ‘I overheard her say to her mother she was pregnant today by….” He could not ask Tasma to betray Jill, it would be too much to ask, if anything, Jill might be betraying him, it was indicative of her.
—In the following days, Tasma noticed Tommy and Jill fought quite a lot; and Tommy was not a person to be irritated easily, it must be that she was leading Tommy to believe it could be his child, Tasma thought. Then one evening she noticed Tommy sleeping on the coach, and Johnny still remaining in his bedroom.
During this interval, Johnny entertained himself in his bedroom, hoping Tommy and Jill would sort things out—thus he remained in kind of a queue, waiting for Jill’s signal to return, somehow he had come to that conclusion she would. He found himself pacing the floor at night, saying, ‘I wish, whatsitsname, would…’ and never ended the sentence.
—I must make this awkward at this point, his mind broke off the subject of Jill and Tommy after the first week, his insides became external. He looked at himself, pretending he was not feeling this serge; he had not guessed at this until it engulfed him, there was stern on his face—and, toil in his hand. A cold shower might work he thought, but it was too far away. He felt he was on a fast run; he hardened his body like a weightlifter, a boxer ready to take a punch.
This lasted two weeks, finally an agreement came about, Jill would sleep with Johnny, and Tommy would sleep in Johnny’s room, and in due time Tommy would have to leave, approximately in a few months, considering once she started to show it would only provoke issues within the household, or so she felt. The real problem was that Johnny did not have the heart to tell Jill he liked the way things were, and he really liked Lorie to a higher degree. He wanted his sex, but could find it elsewhere if need be, now he’d have to resort to living in her bedroom, and his alone time would be altered. In addition, Lorie was somewhat out of the picture for he had not seen her in weeks as he waited for this all to settle, but he’d see her again is what he was planning. Again, everything seemed in the air now. But to resist the plan would be too premature at the moment he deliberated out.
In spite of the tension, things appeared to move about on a regular base for a few more weeks. However, Johnny was starting to hang out with the gang more often now, with their motorcycles, and customized old cars. He was doing a lot more drinking and gambling with the gang members. They had even stopped on a few occasions at Jill’s house looking for Johnny, taking pains to find him, going out of their way it would seem. It came to her attention; Johnny owed them money, how much it wasn’t said (but it was close to $6,000-dollars). They’d not go to his work; it was one thing the groups forbid: that being, to endanger a man’s livelihood was not being a man at all. They could do almost anything else, even kill you, but not jeopardize your job: that was considered a low blow.
Out of nervousness, Tasma started to keep her distance from the group at the bar, if she could, she would have vanished into thin air.
