Received: from nobody by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with local (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cTvsE-0001Wg-0L for lojban-newreal@lojban.org; Wed, 18 Jan 2017 11:26:22 -0800 Received: from [84.33.9.228] (port=33808 helo=theeasywoodworks.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cTvs9-0001Vq-10 for lojban@lojban.org; Wed, 18 Jan 2017 11:26:21 -0800 Date: Wed, 18 Jan 2017 12:24:31 -0700 Mime-Version: 1 To: Message-ID: Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii From: "Noel Bowers" Subject: The greatest product ever created- Build anything from 19k wood plans 20650360 X-Spam-Score: 2.9 (++) X-Spam_score: 2.9 X-Spam_score_int: 29 X-Spam_bar: ++ X-Spam-Report: Spam detection software, running on the system "stodi.digitalkingdom.org", has NOT identified this incoming email as spam. The original message has been attached to this so you can view it or label similar future email. If you have any questions, see the administrator of that system for details. Content preview: searching for DIY CONSTRUCT ANYTHING FROM WOOD WITH 19,000 PLANS New Product [...] Content analysis details: (2.9 points, 5.0 required) pts rule name description ---- ---------------------- -------------------------------------------------- 0.0 URIBL_BLOCKED ADMINISTRATOR NOTICE: The query to URIBL was blocked. See http://wiki.apache.org/spamassassin/DnsBlocklists#dnsbl-block for more information. [URIs: theeasywoodworks.com] -0.0 SPF_PASS SPF: sender matches SPF record -0.0 SPF_HELO_PASS SPF: HELO matches SPF record 0.7 MIME_HTML_ONLY BODY: Message only has text/html MIME parts -1.9 BAYES_00 BODY: Bayes spam probability is 0 to 1% [score: 0.0000] 0.0 HTML_MESSAGE BODY: HTML included in message 1.9 RAZOR2_CF_RANGE_E8_51_100 Razor2 gives engine 8 confidence level above 50% [cf: 100] 0.5 RAZOR2_CF_RANGE_51_100 Razor2 gives confidence level above 50% [cf: 100] 0.9 RAZOR2_CHECK Listed in Razor2 (http://razor.sf.net/) 0.8 RDNS_NONE Delivered to internal network by a host with no rDNS searching for DIY
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It was all my dad seemed able to talk about, and after six or seven years of weekends spent with him instead of friends, I wanted out. Like most boys, I started to care about other things: sports and s and cars and music, primarily, and by fourteen, I was spending little time at home. My resentment began to grow as well. Little by little, I began to notice differences in the way we lived when I compared myself with most of my friends. While they had money to spend to go to the movies or buy a stylish pair of sunglasses, I found myself scrounging for quarters in the couch to buy myself a burger at McDonalds. More than a few of my friends received cars for their sixteenth birthday; my dad gave me an 1883 Morgan silver dollar that had been minted in Carson City. Tears in our worn couch were covered by a blanket, and we were the only family I knew who didnt have cable television or a microwave oven. When our refrigerator broke down, he bought a used one that was the worlds most awful shade of green, a color that matched nothing else in the kitchen. I was embarrassed at the thought of having friends come over, and I blamed my dad for that. I know it was a pretty crappy way to feelif the lack of money bothered me so much, I could have mowed lawns or worked odd jobs, for instancebut thats the way it was. I was as blind as a snail and dumb as a camel, but even if I told you I regret my immaturity now, I cant undo the past. My dad sensed that something was changing, but he was at a loss as to what to do about us. He tried, though, in the only way he knew how, the only way his father knew. He talked about coinsit was the one topic he could discuss with easeand continued to cook my breakfasts and dinners; but our estrangement grew worse over time. At the same time, I pulled away from the friends Id always known. They were breaking into cliques, based primarily on what movies they were going to see or the latest shirts they bought from the mall, and I found myself on the outside looking in. Screw them, I thought. In high school, theres always a place for everyone, and I began falling in with the wrong sort of crowd, a crowd that didnt give a damn about anything, which left me not giving a damn, either. I began to cut classes and smoke and was suspended for fighting on three occasions. I gave up sports, too. Id played football and basketball and run track until I was a sophomore, and though my dad sometimes asked how I did when I got home, he seemed uncomfortable if I went into detail, since it was obvious he didnt know a thing about sports. Hed never been on a team in his life. He showed up for a single basketball game during my sophomore year. He sat in the stands, an odd balding guy wearing a worn sport jacket and socks that didnt match. Though he wasnt obese, his pants nipped at the waist, making him look as if he were three months pregnant, and I knew I wanted nothing to do with him. I was embarrassed by the sight of him, and after the game, I avoided him. Im not proud of myself for that, but thats who I was. Things got worse. During my senior year, my rebellion reached a high point. My grades had been slipping for two years, more from laziness and lack of care than intelligence (I like to think), and more than once my dad caught me sneaking in late at night with booze on my breath. I was escorted home by the police after being found at a party where drugs and drinking were evident, and when my dad grounded me, I stayed at a friends house for a couple of weeks after raging at him to mind his own business. He said nothing upon my return; instead, scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon were on the table in the mornings as usual. I barely passed my classes, and I suspect the school let me graduate simply because it wanted me out of there. I know my dad was worried, and he would sometimes, in his own shy way, broach the subject of college, but by then Id made up my mind not to go. I wanted a job, I wanted a car, I wanted those material things Id lived eighteen years without. I said nothing to him about it one way or the other until the summer after graduation, but when he realized I hadnt even applied to junior college, he locked himself in his den for the rest of
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