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The Stone-Builders [By their Weapons] [Big-chest was a reluctant hero, for the most part, that is, in killing the Stone-Builders; yet when he could, he did so of course, --but I say reluctant I suppose with reluctance; for it was not unlike everyone at this time to be disinclined to kill them, they seemed to be in the vein of the gods, un-killable: yet he killed them and fought them, more so than anyone else—less out of conviction than out of desire to avoid dishonor and social embarrassment for himself.] Said I [I, being: Short-legs], I had seen one time Big-chest walk into a campsite of theirs, the Stone-Builders that is, —I tried to tell this story to my brother, Stern-toes, once, but I never could explain it right, but I think he got the jest of it, if not the seriousness, we did both laugh at the Stone-Builders for hours on end, afterwards. As I was about to say, myself and Little-eyes witnessed this whole happening from a distance of course. The Stone-Builders were full of what they called: ‘wone, or wine,’ something along that order, some sounds take me back a bit, they had new sounds all the time, yes O yes, inventing new sounds like the growing of leafs on a tree, coming into our brains like new winds, dragging it into a mode of thinking more everyday, instead of being fond of the birds, and just living: eating, sleeping and dying—these words we never heard of before were floating everywhere in the air, ever since that is, the arrival of the Stone-Builders on the scene: before this, before Eve walked out of that Garden, things were dangerous, but much more quiet. Well, Big-chest, noticed one evening—not being too far in the thick of the foliage by their campsite [the Stone-Builders site]—they had killed a man-eater [lion]; there were four of them, called ‘soldiers,’ at the campfire-site, a resting place to them: just laughing, and drinking, and being playful like a group of little cubs: lion cubs—wild and whimpering [whiny] lion-cubs, that is exactly what they were like. I could see Big-chest laughing to himself—inside that big muscular oversized chest: as he watched them wrestle around with one another, actually they did get a little over physical with one another, like the wild boars whom would chase after one of us, wanting to eat us for a feast, and then they’d settle down again. It was a cold winter’s night that day, so there was a real chill in the air, and not all that much leafy undergrowth for us to hide or for that matter to slap the chill away: nor for that matter Big-chest: although he had a coat of hair all over him to keep him warm anyways—showed a bit of chill in his face also. Although—I was grateful for the few large trees with the plant-life tucked around me, it absorbed some of the wind—the brisk, cold winds seeping by us, around us, and almost through us: the shrubbery covered us, as we remained in the distant woods, with a pile of leaves up to our knees: leaves for warmth and camouflage, --camouflage being a plan incase we figured we’d have to duck, hide ourselves-quickly should they get the best of Big-chest, but we doubted that: Big-chest was just the opposite of us----mean,--plus as always, Big-chest was confident of his abilities, he stood in the woods, no shadow—not sure what he did with it, but he was cleaver; just a big blob of muscle, hair and sharp eyes, small squinty eyes pinned on the four Stone-Builders, at the camp site, and their man-eater, that was going to be his dinner. He was actually blocking our vision a bit, but I think he did that because he wanted to show his audience—which was us—who was the braver. I actually had some kind of a feeling for those men who were about the meet Big-chest, a gloomy feeling at best, and a thankful feeling: thankful, it was not us in their place; yet both I and Little-eyes, both surely held feelings of revenge for the Stone-Builders, and this was kind of a good time for the revenge to seep out, but I don’t care for revenge for the most part, not really, it takes too much energy, saps you—in review, all was quite mysterious to me. Then unsuspected, he walked into the camp, tall as a mountain, hairy as a leafy think forest, long, a very long mouth from ear to ear, his teeth showed—he walked reminiscent of the king of the Stone-Builders [I think he was mimicking him—he like to do such things], he must have seen him walk, for he was arched just like their king, head back, eyes slanting down as if they were subordinates; --among the four he crept up, not a word, not a sound, the dark-dragging behind him, the sky had very little light given by the stars, but it followed him overhead none the less, a cloud covered the moon—as if he and Big-chest were pals; now he had seen their weapons by the fire, where the dead lion lay, if anything, Big-chest was shifty: sly, observant: he was swaying his body akin to the huge trees in a storm, not sure exactly why, but I think it got his blood moving and his limbs more flexible for swinging when he used them for clubs—and it made for a good showing: his hands were as big as large branches of a tree: and as hard. Closer and closer he came to the fire, no one noticed him yet, can’t figure it out, no one, no one at all, --could they not hear him a little, just a tiny bit, I asked myself, for both myself and Little-eyes could hear his foot steps even in the woods, at twice their distance, I was about to learn we had better hearing than these new creatures. But then this new breed of course, can not have all the advantages, thank goodness, thus, our senses were better, we were tuned higher one might say, and they were tuned with more and a higher intelligence than we. His fingers now, almost touching the ground—I could see—he, he had long thick arms, and fingers, and perturbing muscles, he was impressive to look at, huge to digest with your eyes, and frightening if you did not see him on a daily bases, and dangerous to be around, at any time. Then all of a sudden two of the four turned their necks to see what was in back of them; not sure if they heard him, sensed him, or just did out of an automatic military checking ritual,--whereupon, they almost went into shock: two stood up, all four were some fifteen feet from their weapons. The two who were squatting, the closest to the fire, were in a panic, the other two were a little farther away, standing now, unsure, thinking. I think one was releasing himself; he made a puddle and was trying to cover it up by kicking dirt, how modest. I figured why waste your time, this was precious time, run, run, run: that is what I’d do, but I really was hoping they’d not run, I must have an evil side in me also, just like them; you know, they got this pride thing, and I was hoping they would stay with this pride and arrogance, and then as I stopped thinking for a moment, Big-chest knock it out of them, if that is, they had any pride left. I think I was starting to get like them, that being: aggressive thoughts. In any case, Big-chest took his right hand swung it backwards to build up momentum, and with the force of a giant tree, hit the head of one of the squatters as he was about to stand up, it sounded faintly similar to thunder, and I could hear it snap, and rip, similar to a timber falling after lightening strikes it, strikes a tree out of its roots, its stretching roots out of the ground. He fell on his chest, then pushing himself, flopped over and onto his shoulder as if it had nothing holding his head in place, like a dead fish flopping, jumping in a creek—he lost his inner breath. The other one tried to get to his weapon, but Big-chest, akin to lightening, jumped with one leap over to him, picked him up by one leg, his penis showing, as Big-chest looked strangely at it, as if to laugh at a small ugly worm, for they all liked covering them up for some odd reason, and Big-chest now must have figured out, he knew why. And we both in the bushes started to giggle, snicker, laughing at the sight—I wanted to say laugh again—but we had to hold our laughing inside our stomachs for a while, so as not to spoil his feat. Then after our expressions of amusement, a stern grin appeared on Big-chest’s face—I think he heard us—in any case, he tossed him into the fire when he got bored looking at him, after twisting him about for a few seconds, breaking his leg in several places I imagine, for I kept hearing crunches, as if bones were cracking, and then there was his screams. Then one of the two standing routed himself through the woods yelling something on the order of: “Hhhhh eel pppp...!” Not sure what that meant. The last one, I call him the brave one, or definitely I could call him the stupid one, or should I say foolish one, none-the-less, he pulled out a sharp object, about the length of his hand, and stood in front of Big-chest as if he was going to fight him. At this point I said, and Little-eyes thought: this was the end for him; he [the soldier] looked like a banana compared to Big-chest. I asked myself, ‘Is he crazy? Run, and run while you can,’ and I was on Big-chest’s side now, more than ever, but it didn’t sound like it for that split-moment, but I felt it was a little unfair, size and all. But the man, whom I am calling a brave-soldier, stood his ground, and actually looked at Big-chest in the eyes. My-gosh, the man must have been half his size, about 175 pounds, quick on his feet though, for he was dancing around Big-chest, trying to stab him, and poke him. He looked more like a bee trying to sting someone, but that just irritated him more. Big-chest had taken arrows out of himself one-hundred times before, I bet; arrows deeper than that knife would have ever penetrate, if the person had gotten a chance to lunge it into Big-chest, and he didn’t get that chance: and it never hurt him much: those pokes. These little wounds were nothing, --but should he leap and get a good stab possible in the upper chest of Big-chest, or eye, then I’d worry. To make a long story short: Big-chest just looked dumfounded at the figure in front of him dancing in a circle, and didn’t move very much, except around; I’ve seen Little-eyes close his eye-lids now, he knew, he knew what was about to happen, and with his waving quick long arms, Big-chest picked up the seven foot lionesses, and put it over his shoulder, the crazy Stone-Builder charged at him, and Big-chest with a quick sweep, with a turn, knocked the man flat on his back, onto the ground, he had hit him with the man-eater, as he balanced it over his shoulder. Then, somewhat, disparate, or so it seemed, reminiscent of a dying fish jumping about trying to get back into the water—he: Big-chest—kicked him in the mid-section of his belly, sweeping him into the fire like trash, now almost a dead fish. The Soldier could not move, he surely had a broken spine I thought, had he not, he would had gotten up and run fast out of the fire, and he didn’t: or couldn’t, for Big-chest couldn’t run with the man-eater on his shoulder so it was a good time to escape, if he could. But he didn’t, or couldn’t, nor do I think he intended to. But again, the man tried to move out of the fire with no suitable means other than his arms which were now on fire, for surely his ribs and legs were broken. Big-chest simply turned away from him as if he was insignificant, as I did myself. The defeat was predictable, and most unnecessary. I got thinking: what kind of creature fights when they cannot compete. It has always been the law of the land—to run, unless cornered: hence, when you can’t battle, don’t. It wasn’t necessary to die like that. I was learning about pride and arrogance quickly from these new creatures though; all in time and observation I told myself, and I’d be well informed on their unusual habits. 11 Early winter We had no way of knowing which winter would be good to us or bad for us, and winter this particular winter had come early, and therefore our food supply was exhausted, depleted that is, rather quickly. When Little-eyes and I returned back to the cave the following evening, we had told in our symbolic way: expressed at the Banana Cave that is, to the entire Horde how Big-chest had killed the Eve People. And you could hear the laughter for miles around. I tried to explain how Big-chest had seen or sensed their movements, their evil objective, and their killing intent: as he always seemed to be able to sense survival quite well; he had a special quality of seeing through a person to his evil side, as he could see through us, thus, he could see through the Stone-People as well. I explained how one of the men stayed to fight him, trying to outstare Big-chest, and got kicked into the fire, and died. They all shook their heads in wonderment, we were not the smartest of the inhabitants of earth, but that was sure dumb we all thought, no vocal language was needed for that understanding or response. I think Big-chest had taken his trophy to his cave in our area, and was having a formal meal at this time. We liked anyone who could out smart the Stone-People I suppose, they were smug and we were helpless to them most of the time; they had well groomed weapons, and we had simply rocks and some clubs, along with a few sharpened stones, as they now were being called, knifes, up to the appearance of the Stone-People, they were just tools. And so it felt good if anything, good to see the odds turn for once, and to be frank, they didn’t turn much, if ever in our favor after that episode. But our surprise would come in the morning: --yes, we would not be forgotten for once. Morning In the morning when several of us looked out of our cave entrances, in the center of the canyon below our cliff dwellings, as we often did to be sure we were safe from man or beast, in the open area in the valley below us, we saw half a lion torn open, lying in the center of our domain, for us, it was a treasure, a gift, a donation if anything, and all of us quickly ran to eat what meat Big-chest had left for us. Big-chest was not always so generous, or kind, but for some odd reason, he knew we were starving for some protean, and our bodies were starting to show our ribs. Aimless to say, this never happened again—not in such a quantity, but we all gave Big-chest a super big smile as we walked proudly out of our canyon-caves and ate the raw meat [for he appeared standing erect by a cave entrance observing the feast he provide]; yes, some of us even were tarring at the red meat, animal protein, liken to wolfs. 12 The Hermit by the Sea It was a short period of time from when Big-chest appropriated the lion [took it from the Stone-Builders] and we all ate the meat, when I joined the Horde in the valley on a crisp morning—a morning that told me, the seasons were about to change, thus, leading into spring; I could see my breath: it was so brittle, so I knew winters end was near. There was great commotion in the valley below, as there often was when someone or something new came about to celebrate, I had noticed from my cliff dwelling a gathering of the Horde, looking down, I quickly dashed along the sides of the cliff until I reached the floor of the valley to see what it was, as did Little-eyes, as I had woke him, trying to explain a happening was taking place. Thin-hips of the Horde [Sister to Moss] When I reached the bottom and many of the folk were going to and fro, some with sad and hungry faces, very sad posture, I made my way through several folks now gathered around this one section of the cliff; old-Moss, the Hermit by the Sea, was laying dead, his sister, Thin-hips, was there pacing, walking back and forth, kind of chanting, humming something, sounds on top of sounds—death had waxed his face I noticed. Old Moss was the oldest folk I had ever known, ever heard of. He must have been 60 or 65 years old—I doubt Big-chest was that old. No one ever lived that long, no one that is but Moss, I suppose. You could tell by looking at him, half his death was caused by starvation, the other by his long walk back to the Valley of the Caves, the strenuous walk; a walk many took to come back when they felt their time was short on this ground, like some fish, we all seem to know our dying ground; he came from the far off place, called the Great Cliffs by the Sea. I had only seen him when I was a kid and then once or twice coming and going, within a twenty-year period. He lived in the sand hills far from the Horde as I was saying, to the extreme East, and not far from there to the south was the Great Sea and the cliffs he always told his sister about, much larger than ours, higher than ours he’d say. He add, this place was somewhere between the Sea, and the cliffs, and the strait, and this valley was a flat area, plateau, this is where he wondered off too often, or so he’d claim, upon his return. He knew my father quite well, Long-arms, and did visit him, it was always when I was gone it seemed. They appeared to get along quite well, as one might expect, two strange folks to say the least; not sure what they had in common, matter of fact, if anything, one was lazy—my father, the other, Moss, was quite active I heard. The Great Sea But he did bring back information to his sister, who shared it with us, and of course he’d tell other people also of his journeys, or try to describe them best he could, and we were all quite interested in his tales—it was entertainment: yes he was a man of tales, I guess in one way I admired him for that, it was almost like some of the occupations the Stone-Builders had, or called occupations, which were really doing things by order of their king and getting fed by someone else because of the king—strange. Thus, Moss was our entertainer, and Moss did get fed by most of the Horde’s residents for doing so, I think they’d call him in to their cave to hear him talk, or draw pictures, or act out his strange adventures. Half the time we never knew what he was saying, but then, so what and it was amusement. Everyone liked him, and so did I. top penis enhancement pills penis elargement tip penis enlagement testimonials free pnis enlargement tip safe penis enlagement penis enlarement cream pnis enlargement technique free penis enhancement pills homemade penile enlargment

Being in the business of the penis enlargement industry, I have heard case after case of horrible situations involving penis augmentation surgery, or commonly known as penis enlargement surgery. All of these cases involve irreversible effects, leaving a man either without a penis at all, a penis that is non-functional, or in best cases a scarred, deformed penis that has lost only some of its functionality. First I would like to address the misconception behind surgical penis enlargement. Being men, we tend to care for our penis quite a bit. We make sure it is clean, if we see some kind of new spot; we immediately become concerned, wondering if everything's okay, in general we place great importance on it. So it is not very hard for someone to realize that being involved in a penis industry will have success. Today we see hundreds of different products, techniques, surgery, pumps, weights, and even hypnosis. Everything and anything that people can scam you out of your money. Now being that we are society that trusts doctors with our deepest secrets, secrets that even our spouse may not know about, we look for doctors when we are faced with a problem that involves our physical body, even the most intimate parts of our body. We trust doctors beyond immeasurable scopes. We will spend from $3,000 to $10,000 so our wives can get bigger breasts. The doctor fills the breasts full of silicone and bam, problem solved. Now this is where our biggest misconception comes from, if women can have it done, why can't men have it done? Why would we not be able to successfully increase the size of our penis with surgery? Doctors are magicians right? Wrong. We fail to remember a few things. Breasts do not necessarily have to serve any function, it is like plastic surgery, and it is done for looks only. The penis is an organ that is required to function on a daily basis however, quite often several times per day. If it was just about looks then it would not be such a big issue. However there are an extremely large number of cases with men whose penis increases in size by several inches, but the problem is that he can't get it up. What is the purpose of that? Just to throw out a few more stats at you, on the average penis enlargement surgery costs around $5,000. More than 50% of these surgeries require additional "reconstructive" surgery generally costing for a total of over $10,000. Why would spend that kind of money? Some people save years for these kinds of operations, only to come out damaged for life. If you would like to read about a few real life stories: San Francisco State University: http://130.212.44.5/custom/magazine/penis.html Discovery Channel: http://www.discoverychannel.ca/sexfiles/season_1/sfs101b2.htm Now what about alternatives? First I'd like to make sure that you even need an alternative. What is the reason for why you want a larger penis? Is it so you perform better in bed? Is it to be able to satisfy your sexual partner more? Is it so you don't feel ashamed at the gym, or any other place where others can see your penis? If you said yes to any of these questions then you do not need penis enlargement. What you need is some confidence, maybe some more skills in bed, or in a worst scenario you just need something to help with the premature ejaculation. There are only a few reasons where I can see a larger penis a must; one includes trying to become a porn star. Whatever your reason is however, there are natural, safe, and healthy ways of penis enlargement. Some of our recommended forms of penis enlargement are penis exercises such as jelqing and penis enlargement pills such as VigRX, Magna-RX+ and VP-RX, among others. There are many penis enlargement products, so please be sure to do your research before making your decision. penis enlagement operation penis enlargement testimonials penis enlagement system vimax penis pills penis enargement system natural penile enlargement exercise side effects magna rx penis elargement picture homemade penile enlargment

Here is an exact map to my G spot, precise directions for its stimulation, and an analysis of the hotly debated topic, “Is the G Spot a UFO type myth?” Human beings can fly spaceships to the end of the Universe, communicate with dead people, walk on water and part the Red Sea, but their scientists have not yet been able to determine whether female ejaculate from G spot stimulation is G Spot fluid or urine. You are about to find out the answer to this burning question. While the world goes into contortions over the newly elected Hamas Government and the question of whether or not Iran should be allowed to build nuclear bombs, let us concern ourselves with more practical matters. In June of 2005 Iran’s new hard line President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the son of a blacksmith, defeated former Eeranian President Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani in a runoff election. Many in the Muslim World are wondering where George Bush Jr. gets off acting like President Ahmadinejad’s mother. Others are wondering how a 6’4” man who blew up the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and just missed the White House has managed to hide among Munchkins for 5 years evading capture from the most sophisticated military in the history of life on Earth, with the capability of photographing your G spot from mystical satellites orbiting 10,000 miles above you. And still, the debate rages over whether the female ejaculate is urine or G Spot fluid. Perhaps a scientist should taste it. G spot fluid is clear and sweet. It’s Tropicana’s newest Patent Pending flavor. The G spot is named after the famous German gynecologist Ernest Grafenberg. Joseph Lieberman is named after Joseph in the Holy Bible. Joseph’s bothers dug a hole in the ground and left him there to die. Joseph escaped and then became the Prince of Egypt. He was an excellent dream interpreter and pyramid renovator. When the land of Israel suffered a drought, Joseph’s 12 brothers traveled to Egypt in search of food. They approached Joseph but no one recognized him. They said to Joseph, “Pharaoh, please give us some sustenance so that we may eat.” Joseph replied, “You are not worthy of Graffenburg fluid.” Here is the map to my G spot. I am laying on my back. You take your middle finger and insert it into the exact center of my vagina. Proceed up the top wall for approximately 2”. At this point your finger will descend into a valley. Keep going and you will leave the valley. Now you know that the valley is there. Now back up into the center of the valley. The exact center of the valley is the G spot. Now you need to know what to do with it. This part is quite important. My girlfriend Lindsay had an unfortunate experience. Her boyfriend had found this internet site in his mailbox where he learned how to stimulate the G spot. He curled his index finger up and stroked Lindsay’s G spot hard. Two blood transfusions later at the Good Samaritan Hospital Lindsay came out of her coma. If you are not interested in 4 years of embarrassing litigation, when you insert your index finger into your girlfriend’s vagina, instead of curling your middle finger up, arch it backwards and use the under pad of your middle finger to gently caress your girlfriend’s G spot in circular motions, or back and forth, or up and down, as you lick her clitoris, alternating between fingering her rapidly until she experiences her first ever simultaneous vaginal, clitoral, G spot orgasm. You will know that you have hit pay dirt when the walls of her vagina clench your fingers, she ejaculates and she then drives you over to meet her parents. The ideal length for the male penis is 9 inches, and penis girth is important too. A rock hard penis with titanic penis length and titanic penis girth with great penis stamina are the key to the Kingdom on Earth and in Heaven. According to Doctor Sigmund Freud, the father of psychiatry, men have a subliminal sexual thought every three seconds. If you add in their conscious sexual thoughts that brings it down to every two seconds. If men now begin thinking about the correct way to please a woman then that should bring it down to every second and then they won't have time to worry about silly cartoons. It should be illegal for a man to run for office, given his complete obsession with sex. Men love cat fights and if every country was run by a woman and the countries began fighting then men would be thinking about sex constantly and they would never have time for war. This is the solution for everlasting World Peace in case the Messiah is delayed on a more worthy planet. The male penis generally curves upward. God created it this way so that it would stimulate the woman’s G spot during intercourse. Unfortunately in some men the penis curves downwards. This can be corrected by a minor surgical procedure followed by 6 months of physiotherapy. The question arises, given the human biology, why do women prefer doggy style? During doggy style the normal man’s penis is stimulating the back wall instead of the front wall. The answer is that in doggy style the man’s penis is simulating the arched middle finger. It all depends on your position. This is Einstein’s theory of relativity. Whether you are a terrorist or a hero depends upon which side you are on. Are you the attacker or the attackee? Good luck, and may the force be with you, Luke Skywalker.