Received: from nobody by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with local (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cdNZT-0001w3-Mp for lojban-newreal@lojban.org; Mon, 13 Feb 2017 12:50:03 -0800 Received: from [83.167.229.205] (port=36730 helo=mail.datbeatho.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cdNZO-0001tY-SQ for lojban@lojban.org; Mon, 13 Feb 2017 12:50:03 -0800 DKIM-Signature: v=1; a=rsa-sha1; c=relaxed/relaxed; s=dkim; d=datbeatho.com; h=Date:From:To:Subject:MIME-Version:Content-Type:List-Unsubscribe:Message-ID; i=robert-logan@datbeatho.com; bh=rbZRu4rHVt9rnG/q9kHWTM7Aak4=; b=HzfbjvRpQ42J71vg+YTzPYIJNys4slOPANu6n+GUIcv9GzAsdEWtEmLbUrLDDlQ2XTsGsYy6bDCJ 1uNO2w+Q9hWm1kNnkMC5PlbrbBBdbbDaR+95H0gUwbIEkSvKRWo8geRHg/cSKK/V07J/5CFumFS4 7TR/w7AzCJYUlqpJB8g= DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; c=nofws; q=dns; s=dkim; d=datbeatho.com; b=BUKXXRm3KzpzMR26ujAhPoQJ1V8TGz/KeJEpG7gLry/Lz6mIc/r9dhTO9fbnhSAOqWWXlAlQd3PY 9Bfyp0nUn2MkCERUzEWuaZrFZtDeUvQiIOfWutdr3ixKMejw5ft2a0nW8fIJBQFM2qvjMbwkMduB IEEnST65gFGrz9NZGqE=; Received: by mail.datbeatho.com id hk8rgg0001g7 for ; Mon, 13 Feb 2017 17:42:07 -0500 (envelope-from ) Date: Mon, 13 Feb 2017 17:42:07 -0500 From: "Robert Logan" To: Subject: (2) photos: Gwen fed up with Blake after The Voice MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="----=_Part_139_1796906331.1487018782088" X-SMTPAPI: {"category": "20170213-154144-439-208"} List-Unsubscribe: Feedback-ID: 20170213154144439208 Message-ID: <0.0.0.F.1D2864A67B47588.C3C8A4@mail.datbeatho.com> X-Spam-Score: 3.4 (+++) X-Spam_score: 3.4 X-Spam_score_int: 34 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: Gwen Leaving Blake? Everyone outraged what the Country singer did at the Grammys See the clip > > http://www.datbeatho.com/guitar-antimony/a80w8J63He1WTbcDxivLKhFxivLKhzils189 http://www.datbeatho.com/26986wD3te2BBbcTxivLKhFxivLKhzils23d/twittered-vagabond Submitting your email on this page will process your elimination from our list of friends 18 Hilltop Road Miami Gardens, FL 33056 [...] Content analysis details: (3.4 points, 5.0 required) pts rule name description ---- ---------------------- -------------------------------------------------- 1.2 URIBL_ABUSE_SURBL Contains an URL listed in the ABUSE SURBL blocklist [URIs: datbeatho.com] 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: datbeatho.com] -0.0 SPF_PASS SPF: sender matches SPF record -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/) -0.1 DKIM_VALID Message has at least one valid DKIM or DK signature 0.1 DKIM_SIGNED Message has a DKIM or DK signature, not necessarily valid -0.1 DKIM_VALID_AU Message has a valid DKIM or DK signature from author's domain 0.8 RDNS_NONE Delivered to internal network by a host with no rDNS ------=_Part_139_1796906331.1487018782088 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=utf-8 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Gwen Leaving Blake? Everyone outraged what the Country singer did at the Grammys See the clip > > http://www.datbeatho.com/guitar-antimony/a80w8J63He1WTbcDxivLKhFxivLKhzils189 http://www.datbeatho.com/26986wD3te2BBbcTxivLKhFxivLKhzils23d/twittered-vagabond Submitting your email on this page will process your elimination from our list of friends 18 Hilltop Road Miami Gardens, FL 33056 http://www.datbeatho.com/2fBR8o9q3eZ3xRbcixivLKhFxivLKhzils27a/guitar-antimony Discard your account from our database by entering your information right here Amelia Neiland ) 4221 Roxbury Dr Valdosta Ga 31605-7008 His gaze projected past her to thelean face of Tiger Elliston. You are a fighter at heart, he said slowly addressing the . Youare his flesh and blood and he was a fighter. He won to victory overthe bodies of his enemies. In his eyes I can see it. He was no coward flashed the . He never won to victory overthe bodies of his friends With an effort the man reached for hisclothing, which hung from a peg near the head of the bed. Where are you going cried the sharply. I am going, MacNair answered gravely, looking straight into her eyes, to take my Indians back to Snare Lake. They will kill you she cried impulsively. They will not MacNair smiled but if they do, you will be glad. Did you not say The faced swiftly away, and at the same moment the Indian at thewindow staggered backward, dropping his rifle and cursing horribly inthe only English he knew, as he clutched frantically at his shoulder. Chloe turned. MacNair was lacing his boots. He raised himself weaklyto his feet, swaying uncertainly, with his hand pressed against hischest, and laughed harshly into the paintwisted features of the Indian. When the last of yon dogs gets his bullet, I can leave this place insafety. What do you mean cried the , her eyes blazing. I mean, rasped the man, that you are a fool You have listened toLapierre and you have easily become his dupe. Suddenly, close at hand, Chloe heard a quick, wicked spat, and the Indian reeled from thedoorway, whirled as on a pivot, and crashed, face downward, across thetable. There was a loud rattle of porcelain dishes, a rifle rangsharply upon the floor boards, and Chloe gazed in horrid fascination asthe limp form of the Indian slipped slowly from the table. Itsmomentum increased, and the back of the mans head struck the floorwith a sickening thump. The face turned toward hera face wet anddripping with the rich red blood that oozed thickly from the irregularhole in the forehead where the soft, round ball from a smooth bore hadtorn into the brain. The wide eyes stared stonily into her own. Thejaws sagged open, and the nearly severed tongue protruded from betweenthe fanglike yellow teeth. Someone blew out the lamp. The door slammed shut. Chloe felt stronghands beneath her shoulders the voice of Big Lena sounded in her ears, and she was being guided through the pitch blackness to the door of herown room. The lamp by the bedside had also been extinguished, and the glanced toward the window, which showed in the feeble starlight apattern of jagged panes. One of the Indians who had preceded her intothe cottage thrust the barrel of a rifle through the aperture and firedrapidly at the flashes of flame in the clearing. In the very doorway of the cottage one had beenkilledkilled facing the enemythe savage bloodthirsty horde who, having learned of the plight of their oppressor, had taken the warpathto venge their wrongs. Surely MacNair must know that this man had diedas much in the defense of him as of the women. And yet, when helearned of the death of this man, he had said: I am damned glad of it How long Chloe stood there speechless, trembling, with her heart fairlybursting with rage, she did not know. Time ceased to be. Suddenly sherealized that the room was no longer in intense darkness. Objectsappeared dim and indistinct: the bed with the wounded man, the contentsof the table strewn in confusion upon the floor, and the Indianshooting from the window. Then the flare of flames met her eyes. Thewalls of the storehouse stood out distinctly from its black backgroundof timber. Savage forms appeared in the clearing, gliding stealthilyfrom stump to stump. The light grew brighter. She could hear now, mingled with the sharpcrack of the rifles, the dull roar of flames. The dormitories wereburning This added to her consuming rage. Her eyes seemed fairly toglow as she fixed them upon the pale face of MacNair, who had struggledto a sitting posture. She took a step toward the bed. A dull red spotshowed on either cheek. A bullet ripped through the window andsplintered the dull gold frame of Tiger Ellistons portrait, but the had lost all sense of fear. She shook her clenched fist in thebearded face of the man, and her voice quavered high and thin. Youyoudamn you she cried. I wish Id left you back there tothe mercy of your savages Youre a brutea fiend It would serveyou right if I should give you up to them Hethe man who waskilledwas trying to save you from the righteous wrath of those youhave ground down and oppressed MacNair ignored her words, and as his eyes met hers squarely, theybetrayed not the slightest emotion. The pallid features showed tenseand drawn in the growing firelight. There is no Indian inhis employ who would not kill me. They have had their orders. Haveyou stopped to reflect that the brave Lapierre did not himself remainto stem this attack To protect me from my Indians The sneer in MacNairs voice was not lost upon the , who drewherself up haughtily. Mr. Lapierre, she answered, could hardly be charged withanticipating this attack, nor could he be blamed for not altering hisplans to fight your battles. MacNair laughed. The idea of Lapierre fighting my battles is, indeed, unique. And you may be sure that Lapierre will not fight hisown battlesas long as he can find others to fight them for him. MissElliston, this attack was anticipated. Lapierre knew to a certaintythat when my Indians read the signs, and learned what had happenedthere on the shore of Snare Lake, their vengeance would not bedelayed. He looked straight into the eyes of the . Did you armyour Indians I did not answered Chloe. I brought no guns. Then where did your Indians get their rifles Well, really, Mr. MacNair, I cannot tell you. Possibly at the sameplace your Indians got theirs. The Indians, who have come to me hereare hunters and trappers. Is it so extraordinary that men who arehunters should own guns Your ignorance would be amusing, if it were not tragic retortedMacNair. And picking up the gun which the wounded Indian had dropped, held it before the eyes of the . The hunters of the North, MissElliston, do not equip themselves with Mausers. With Mausers cried the . You mean I mean just this, broke in MacNair, that your Indians were armed tokill men, not animals. With, or without, your knowledge or sanction, your Indians have been supplied with the best rifles obtainable. Yourschool is Lapierres fort Thrusting the rifle into the hands of the, he brushed past her and with difficulty made his way through theintervening room to the outer door, which he threw open. Chloe followed. Outside the firing continued with undiminishedintensity, but the was conscious of no sense of fear. Her eyesswept the room, flooded now by the glare of the flaring flames. Besidethe stove stood Big Lena, an ax gripped tightly in her strong hands. The remaining Indian lay upon the floor, firing slowly through aloophole punched in the chinking. At the doorway MacNair turned, andin the strong light Chloe noticed that his face was haggard and drawnwith pain. I thank you. he said, touching his bandaged chest, for your nursing. It has probably saved my life. ------=_Part_139_1796906331.1487018782088 Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit the good scoop
Gwen Leaving Blake

Everyone outraged what the Country singer did at the Grammys
See the clip > >




His gaze projected past her to thelean face of Tiger Elliston. You are a fighter at heart, he said slowly addressing the . Youare his flesh and blood and he was a fighter. He won to victory overthe bodies of his enemies. In his eyes I can see it. He was no coward flashed the . He never won to victory overthe bodies of his friends With an effort the man reached for hisclothing, which hung from a peg near the head of the bed. Where are you going cried the sharply. I am going, MacNair answered gravely, looking straight into her eyes, to take my Indians back to Snare Lake. They will kill you she cried impulsively. They will not MacNair smiled but if they do, you will be glad. Did you not say The faced swiftly away, and at the same moment the Indian at thewindow staggered backward, dropping his rifle and cursing horribly inthe only English he knew, as he clutched frantically at his shoulder. Chloe turned. MacNair was lacing his boots. He raised himself weaklyto his feet, swaying uncertainly, with his hand pressed against hischest, and laughed harshly into the paintwisted features of the Indian. When the last of yon dogs gets his bullet, I can leave this place insafety. What do you mean cried the , her eyes blazing. I mean, rasped the man, that you are a fool You have listened toLapierre and you have easily become his dupe.
Suddenly, close at hand, Chloe heard a quick, wicked spat, and the Indian reeled from thedoorway, whirled as on a pivot, and crashed, face downward, across thetable. There was a loud rattle of porcelain dishes, a rifle rangsharply upon the floor boards, and Chloe gazed in horrid fascination asthe limp form of the Indian slipped slowly from the table. Itsmomentum increased, and the back of the mans head struck the floorwith a sickening thump. The face turned toward hera face wet anddripping with the rich red blood that oozed thickly from the irregularhole in the forehead where the soft, round ball from a smooth bore hadtorn into the brain. The wide eyes stared stonily into her own. Thejaws sagged open, and the nearly severed tongue protruded from betweenthe fanglike yellow teeth. Someone blew out the lamp. The door slammed shut. Chloe felt stronghands beneath her shoulders the voice of Big Lena sounded in her ears, and she was being guided through the pitch blackness to the door of herown room. The lamp by the bedside had also been extinguished, and the glanced toward the window, which showed in the feeble starlight apattern of jagged panes. One of the Indians who had preceded her intothe cottage thrust the barrel of a rifle through the aperture and firedrapidly at the flashes of flame in the clearing.
In the very doorway of the cottage one had beenkilledkilled facing the enemythe savage bloodthirsty horde who, having learned of the plight of their oppressor, had taken the warpathto venge their wrongs. Surely MacNair must know that this man had diedas much in the defense of him as of the women. And yet, when helearned of the death of this man, he had said: I am damned glad of it How long Chloe stood there speechless, trembling, with her heart fairlybursting with rage, she did not know. Time ceased to be. Suddenly sherealized that the room was no longer in intense darkness. Objectsappeared dim and indistinct: the bed with the wounded man, the contentsof the table strewn in confusion upon the floor, and the Indianshooting from the window. Then the flare of flames met her eyes. Thewalls of the storehouse stood out distinctly from its black backgroundof timber. Savage forms appeared in the clearing, gliding stealthilyfrom stump to stump. The light grew brighter. She could hear now, mingled with the sharpcrack of the rifles, the dull roar of flames. The dormitories wereburning This added to her consuming rage. Her eyes seemed fairly toglow as she fixed them upon the pale face of MacNair, who had struggledto a sitting posture. She took a step toward the bed. A dull red spotshowed on either cheek. A bullet ripped through the window andsplintered the dull gold frame of Tiger Ellistons portrait, but the had lost all sense of fear. She shook her clenched fist in thebearded face of the man, and her voice quavered high and thin. Youyoudamn you she cried. I wish Id left you back there tothe mercy of your savages Youre a brutea fiend It would serveyou right if I should give you up to them Hethe man who waskilledwas trying to save you from the righteous wrath of those youhave ground down and oppressed MacNair ignored her words, and as his eyes met hers squarely, theybetrayed not the slightest emotion. The pallid features showed tenseand drawn in the growing firelight.
His gaze projected past her to thelean face of Tiger Elliston. You are a fighter at heart, he said slowly addressing the . Youare his flesh and blood and he was a fighter. He won to victory overthe bodies of his enemies. In his eyes I can see it. He was no coward flashed the . He never won to victory overthe bodies of his friends With an effort the man reached for hisclothing, which hung from a peg near the head of the bed. Where are you going cried the sharply. I am going, MacNair answered gravely, looking straight into her eyes, to take my Indians back to Snare Lake. They will kill you she cried impulsively. They will not MacNair smiled but if they do, you will be glad. Did you not say The faced swiftly away, and at the same moment the Indian at thewindow staggered backward, dropping his rifle and cursing horribly inthe only English he knew, as he clutched frantically at his shoulder. Chloe turned. MacNair was lacing his boots. He raised himself weaklyto his feet, swaying uncertainly, with his hand pressed against hischest, and laughed harshly into the paintwisted features of the Indian. When the last of yon dogs gets his bullet, I can leave this place insafety. What do you mean cried the , her eyes blazing. I mean, rasped the man, that you are a fool You have listened toLapierre and you have easily become his dupe.







Come back They will kill you MacNair ignored her warning. Youhave one redeeming feature, cried the . At least, you are asbrutal toward yourself as toward others. MacNair laughed harshly. I thank you, he said and staggered out intothe firelit clearing. Dully, Chloe noticed that the Indian who hadbeen firing from the floor slipped stealthily through the doorway and, dropping to his knee, raised his rifle. The next instant the seyes widened in horror. The gun was pointed squarely at MacNairsback. She tried to cry out, but no sound came. It seemed minutes thatthe Indian sighted as he knelt there in the clearing. And thenhepulled the trigger. There was a sharp, metallic click, followed by amuttered imprecation. The man jerked down the rifle and reaching intohis pocket, produced long yellow cartridges, which he jammed into themagazine.The horror of it The diabolical deliberation of the man spurred the to a fury she had never known. In that moment her one thought wasto killto kill with her handsto rendto tearand to maim Forthe first time she realized that the thing in her hand was a gun. Again the Indian was raising his rifle. The twisted and jerked atthe bolt of her own gun. It was locked. The next instant, with aloud, animallike cry, she leaped for the doorway, trampling, as shepassed, with a wild, fierce joy upon the upturned staring face of thedead Indian. Out in the clearing the flames roared and crackled. Rifles spat. Andbefore her the Indian was again lining his sights.
Suddenly, close at hand, Chloe heard a quick, wicked spat, and the Indian reeled from thedoorway, whirled as on a pivot, and crashed, face downward, across thetable. There was a loud rattle of porcelain dishes, a rifle rangsharply upon the floor boards, and Chloe gazed in horrid fascination asthe limp form of the Indian slipped slowly from the table. Itsmomentum increased, and the back of the mans head struck the floorwith a sickening thump. The face turned toward hera face wet anddripping with the rich red blood that oozed thickly from the irregularhole in the forehead where the soft, round ball from a smooth bore hadtorn into the brain. The wide eyes stared stonily into her own. Thejaws sagged open, and the nearly severed tongue protruded from betweenthe fanglike yellow teeth. Someone blew out the lamp. The door slammed shut. Chloe felt stronghands beneath her shoulders the voice of Big Lena sounded in her ears, and she was being guided through the pitch blackness to the door of herown room. The lamp by the bedside had also been extinguished, and the glanced toward the window, which showed in the feeble starlight apattern of jagged panes. One of the Indians who had preceded her intothe cottage thrust the barrel of a rifle through the aperture and firedrapidly at the flashes of flame in the clearing.
Her first thought was forMacNair. He would be murdered as he slept. She redoubled her efforts, feeling blindly in the darkness for the paththat led toward the square of light. In her ears sounded the sharpjangle of smashing glass. Her foot caught in a vine, and she crashedheavily forward almost at the door. All about her guns roared fromthe edge of the scrub, from the riverbank, and from the corners of thelong log dormitories. Bullets whined above her like angry mosquitoes, and thudded dully against the logs of the cottage. Again sounded the sharp jangle of glass. She struggled to her knees, and was hurled backward as the huge form of an Indian tripped over herand sprawled, cursing, at her side. The door of the cottage burstsuddenly open, and in the long quadrangle of light the forms of the twoIndians who had passed her stood out distinctly. The gave aquick, short sob of relief. They were LeFroys Indians At the soundthe man on the ground thrust his face close to hers and with a quickgrunt of surprise scrambled to his feet. Chloe felt her arm seized, and realized that she was being dragged toward the door of the cottagethrough which the other two Indians had disappeared. She was jerkedroughly across the threshold, and lay huddled up on the floor. TheIndian released his hold on her arm and, stepping across her body, reached for the door. Outside, the roar of the guns was incessant.
There is no Indian inhis employ who would not kill me. They have had their orders. Haveyou stopped to reflect that the brave Lapierre did not himself remainto stem this attack To protect me from my Indians The sneer in MacNairs voice was not lost upon the , who drewherself up haughtily. Mr. Lapierre, she answered, could hardly be charged withanticipating this attack, nor could he be blamed for not altering hisplans to fight your battles. MacNair laughed. The idea of Lapierre fighting my battles is, indeed, unique. And you may be sure that Lapierre will not fight hisown battlesas long as he can find others to fight them for him. MissElliston, this attack was anticipated. Lapierre knew to a certaintythat when my Indians read the signs, and learned what had happenedthere on the shore of Snare Lake, their vengeance would not bedelayed. He looked straight into the eyes of the . Did you armyour Indians I did not answered Chloe. I brought no guns. Then where did your Indians get their rifles Well, really, Mr. MacNair, I cannot tell you. Possibly at the sameplace your Indians got theirs. The Indians, who have come to me hereare hunters and trappers. Is it so extraordinary that men who arehunters should own guns Your ignorance would be amusing, if it were not tragic retortedMacNair. And picking up the gun which the wounded Indian had dropped, held it before the eyes of the . The hunters of the North, MissElliston, do not equip themselves with Mausers. With Mausers cried the . You mean I mean just this, broke in MacNair, that your Indians were armed tokill men, not animals. With, or without, your knowledge or sanction, your Indians have been supplied with the best rifles obtainable. Yourschool is Lapierres fort Thrusting the rifle into the hands of the, he brushed past her and with difficulty made his way through theintervening room to the outer door, which he threw open. Chloe followed. Outside the firing continued with undiminishedintensity, but the was conscious of no sense of fear. Her eyesswept the room, flooded now by the glare of the flaring flames. Besidethe stove stood Big Lena, an ax gripped tightly in her strong hands. The remaining Indian lay upon the floor, firing slowly through aloophole punched in the chinking. At the doorway MacNair turned, andin the strong light Chloe noticed that his face was haggard and drawnwith pain. I thank you. he said, touching his bandaged chest, for your nursing. It has probably saved my life.
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