- temperament or disposition; “a person of hot blood”
- The red liquid that circulates in the arteries and veins of humans and other vertebrate animals, carrying oxygen to and carbon dioxide from the tissues of the body
- Violence involving bloodshed
- smear with blood, as in a hunting initiation rite, where the face of a person is smeared with the blood of the kill
- An internal bodily fluid, not necessarily red, that performs a similar function in invertebrates
- the fluid (red in vertebrates) that is pumped through the body by the heart and contains plasma, blood cells, and platelets; “blood carries oxygen and nutrients to the tissues and carries away waste products”; “the ancients believed that blood was the seat of the emotions”
- Urine is a sterile, liquid by-product of the body that is secreted by the kidneys through a process called urination and excreted through the urethra. Cellular metabolism generates numerous by-products, many rich in nitrogen, that require elimination from the bloodstream.
- Liquid excrement consisting of water, salts and urea, which is made in the kidneys, stored in the bladder, then released through the urethra
- A watery, typically yellowish fluid stored in the bladder and discharged through the urethra. It is one of the body’s chief means of eliminating excess water and salt and also contains nitrogen compounds such as urea and other waste substances removed from the blood by the kidneys
- liquid excretory product; “there was blood in his urine”; “the child had to make water”
#25. Muslim women and their children
I live in a cooperative, which is essentially a social environment, where the inhabitants run the building. Communication, social engagement and a pleasant demeanor is essential. So there I am, coming into my building, with 3 bags at my side, and a bike on the other, when this adorable black boy opens the door for me. "Thank you good sir", I said, with a smile to back it up, to which he then smiled in return.
Only to have his mother rip his arm off and scold him for the simple fact that he acknowledged me, yelling profanities at him and shaking him further.
And so begins my rant
What the fucking flying cup cakes!!!
Okay, first off
Are you aware that you are essentially breeding your child to be socially retarded like yourself, further propagating fear, hate and alienation in a world where those divided seek justification for anal rapping the planet. I’m confused, do you want him to be afraid of people, or hate them completely? If so, to qualify, do I first need to follow the ramblings of a sadistic, perverted god, or just develop a vile demeanor.
Is it religious fanaticism that dictates how you should treat "infidels" such as I? Oh it’s in the Koran you say? Which part is that excatly, can you show me? Oh, it’s next to the non existent part about killing innocent people and being rewarded with virgins? Have you ever actually had sex with a virgin? It’s not exactly a pleasant experience. There’s a lot of crushed expectations, there’s screaming and blood, and 5 seconds later everyone feels awkward. Maybe I’m reading from a different book. Hey, I’ve got a book for you. Winnie the Pooh. It’s got good morals and loveable furry characters. And further justifies my stealing of honey from my local convenience store. Unfortunetely you’re not a character in a book. You have to lift your head from the urine soaked pages and stop licking your crotch, to acknowledge that you co-exist with other human beings.
Maybe I could write a silly book and threaten people into following its preachings. What? Some schmuck called Ron L. Hubbard got half way, and people still followed him? Shit, dude’s probably sitting at home, sipping seamen juice and reading aging farm-hand nymphos, going, "Holy Fuck!!!, I can’t believe they actually bought it. All I wanted was for them to listen to my 42-page poem about my Ovaries!"
But I’m getting off topic here.
I don’t know this woman’s situation. Maybe her husband is pulling the strings. But the genuine look of disgust with my presence tells me otherwise.
Are we too quick to feel pitty for these masked bandits? I mean, granted, there’s some serious tragic shit going on in their country, and I constantly struggle when hearing about it. But would we know it if confronted with those who border the fine line between victim and enabler? The future is in desperate need of a new breed of Muslims. Granted, conflict is a good driving force for change. I tend to draw a line at breeding children into mass murdering psychopaths.
The future and fate of man cannot be found in a book. And hating me isn’t gonna help your cause. Your child obviously does not understand why he is being scolded, since it goes against his nature. But maybe if you try hard enough, he’ll grow to hate everyone, including you, and rape 13 year old girls, only after beating them for not keeping their heads down when in the presence of other men. If only we lived in a country where one could be free of this suppression, and find services that could help those who wish to do so. Wait, what’s that you say…?
See what happens when you let pre-pubescant boys govern a country. Even apes are able to learn how to co-exist better.
In conclusion, I’m ashamed to have her living in my building. Yet every time I see her, I will hold my tongue, but at what cost?
PS. Notice how I keep referring to them as breeding? I figure if you insist on behaving like senseless animals, I’ll treat you like one.
This brought on strong and prolonged contractions. They were ranging from 3 to 5 minutes long with only about 2 minutes between them at most. Christine was quite uncomfortable at this point. All the nursing staff were quite impressed with how she was coping. She would just stand in front of me and hold my hands and match my slow breathing.
After about an hour and a half they checked and she was dialated to 6cm and they let her have an epidural. They wanted her to resist as long as possible to make sure the epidural would slow the onset of labour. Once she had that in they increase to hourly oxytocin dose to 12ml. The epidural let her relax a bit so we got a little rest.
A while later we are awoken by nurses coming in and having her roll on to her side and cut the oxytocin. They tried to get the dose up 3 more times over the next few hours but each time they did it was the same scene. Christine would get a huge prolonged contraction and Mila’s heart rate would drop really low.
I think the last time they did that was 6am. I was woken by 2 nurses coming in to the room. There seemed to be a different sense of urgency to it. It woke me up fully in an instant. It scared the shit out of me. They put Christine on oxygen and paged a doctor. When they examined her this time the doctor figured that Mila was too big, not at a good angle and there wasn’t enough space for her to pass. The huge contractions had in effect been squashing her and the placenta causing circulation problems during the contraction. It was decided that a c-section would be performed.
I had been so alarmed that I had trouble speaking and felt what I can only describe as overwhelming fear for the wellbeing of my two ladies.
After the problem free c-section when Christine was in recovery her blood pressure was extremely low so they had to give her a shot of epinepherine. She was fine after that. They are both doing great.
These last few days have been a confusing mix of joy and fear the likes of which I have never experienced. I have my little girl sleeping in my lap. I’ve never been so tired and happy.
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