Life So I find out yesterday my friend's step-daughter - Page 11

**Nzoner** · 02-15-2009, 01:42 PM

is in "the movies" and apparently is going to be on the cover of the April edition of Hustler.

I was in a bit of a shock after hearing the news because I've known her since she was 11 and after doing a search on her new name today it's all kind of surreal.

Kagney Linn Karter

Hammock Parties · 02-16-2009, 04:05 AM

post that shit

'Hamas' Jenkins · 02-16-2009, 04:07 AM

Here is the Rollins article...Good reading given that I just got back from the gym myself.

"Iron and the Soul"

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like you parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.

Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my adviser. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard.

Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing.

In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say **** to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a ceratin amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live.

Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

Hammock Parties · 02-16-2009, 04:15 AM

big nasty kcnut · 02-16-2009, 07:37 AM

She very nice looking. It's like my friend from high school who a fetish model.
Posted via Mobile Device

**Iowanian** · 02-16-2009, 07:44 AM

Typical Mecca. He watches a lot of pRon on TV, so naturally, he's well tuned into the psychology of the participants.

For every "successful" porn gal, there are hundreds that are selling it for relative peanuts in "auditions" and internet sites. I'd wager very, very few women in porn are well adjusted or mentally healthy people.

If you child ends up on a stripper pole or in porn, you've failed as a parent. period.

Katipan · 02-16-2009, 08:15 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Iowanian

If you child ends up on a stripper pole or in porn, you've failed as a parent. period.

I'm working very hard on trying to come up with an argument for this horrible statement.

It's very hard.

Sweet Daddy Hate · 02-16-2009, 09:51 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by 'Hamas' Jenkins

Henry Rollins wrote one of the greatest inspirational articles I've ever read several years ago. It was about weightlifting and his experiences with it.

Haven't seen that one in a LONG time. Thanks for posting!

**Iowanian** · 02-16-2009, 10:07 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Katipan

I'm working very hard on trying to come up with an argument for this horrible statement.

It's very hard.

Apparently, its just because their dad's didn't save up enough for them to attend community college, so they have to work their way through.

I'm not saying all strippers or porn people are bad people....but there are reasons so many of them have issues that they seem to have with drugs, abusive men, eating disorders....

I'll wager Its not because they grew up in stable, happy homes.

stevieray · 02-16-2009, 10:23 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Iowanian

Apparently, its just because their dad's didn't save up enough for them to attend community college, so they have to work their way through.

I'm not saying all strippers or porn people are bad people....but there are reasons so many of them have issues that they seem to have with drugs, abusive men, eating disorders....

I'll wager Its not because they grew up in stable, happy homes.

I used to know a stripper who hated it..we used to tell her look what you're willing to do for a dollar...a dollar....it woke her up.

Jilly · 02-16-2009, 10:36 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Katipan

I'm working very hard on trying to come up with an argument for this horrible statement.

It's very hard.

that's what she said...

Adept Havelock · 02-16-2009, 10:51 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mecca

LOL...well at the same time everyone is different, I seriously doubt every single person that works in the sex industry has ashamed parents.

IIRC Sunny Lane's parents are her promotion/management team.

That's just disturbing.

RJ · 02-16-2009, 10:57 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Adept Havelock

IIRC Sunny Lane's parents are her promotion/management team.

That's just disturbing.

Wow.

I realize pimps need to make a living too, but pimping your own daughter?

That's just wrong.

StcChief · 02-16-2009, 11:10 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by stevieray

I used to know a stripper who hated it..we used to tell her look what you're willing to do for a dollar...a dollar....it woke her up.

I knew a college girl in 80's working her way thru SIU-E. She hated it, made enough in a year to pay for college and part grad school. She stayed away from the other girls and life style. I didn't go see her, didn't wanna know.....

Katipan · 02-16-2009, 11:45 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Iowanian

Apparently, its just because their dad's didn't save up enough for them to attend community college, so they have to work their way through.

I'm not saying all strippers or porn people are bad people....but there are reasons so many of them have issues that they seem to have with drugs, abusive men, eating disorders....

I'll wager Its not because they grew up in stable, happy homes.

I guess my issue with it is that there are many many women that exhibit what could only be classified as equally self destructive behavior and yet they aren't stripping.

So, if an offspring grows into a general failure, is it automatically the failure of the parent? Or is it only if she gets naked?

Drugs, abusive men, eating disorders... These things could be found in my office building. And I no longer work with neon lights.

Katipan · 02-16-2009, 11:46 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jilly

that's what she said...

You gotta admire her ability to multitask.

02-15-2009, 01:42 PM
Nzoner a haw haw haw Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: MIZZOU Casino cash: $26365802	So I find out yesterday my friend's step-daughter is in "the movies" and apparently is going to be on the cover of the April edition of Hustler. I was in a bit of a shock after hearing the news because I've known her since she was 11 and after doing a search on her new name today it's all kind of surreal. Kagney Linn Karter
Posts: 27,111

02-16-2009, 04:05 AM	#151
Hammock Parties I'll be back. Join Date: Nov 2002 Casino cash: $890478	post that shit __________________ Chiefs game films
Posts: 297,159

02-16-2009, 04:07 AM	#152
'Hamas' Jenkins Now you've pissed me off! Join Date: Jan 2006 Casino cash: $7179572	Here is the Rollins article...Good reading given that I just got back from the gym myself. "Iron and the Soul" I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like you parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely. When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy. I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either. Then came Mr. Pepperman, my adviser. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly. Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it. Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say **** to me. It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you. It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a ceratin amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout. I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control. I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman. Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart. Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads. I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron mind. Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back. The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds. __________________ "When the Know-Nothings get control, it will read 'all men are created equal, except negroes, and foreigners, and Catholics.' When it comes to this I should prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty – to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base alloy of hypocrisy.”--Abraham Lincoln
Posts: 75,081

02-16-2009, 04:15 AM	#153
Hammock Parties I'll be back. Join Date: Nov 2002 Casino cash: $890478	__________________ Chiefs game films
Posts: 297,159

02-16-2009, 07:37 AM	#154
big nasty kcnut The pizza king of kansas Join Date: Sep 2001 Location: Somewhere in the u.s.a. Casino cash: $-2139100	She very nice looking. It's like my friend from high school who a fetish model. Posted via Mobile Device
Posts: 19,388

02-16-2009, 07:44 AM	#155
Iowanian Supporter Join Date: Aug 2000 Location: Utopia Casino cash: $1728454	Typical Mecca. He watches a lot of pRon on TV, so naturally, he's well tuned into the psychology of the participants. For every "successful" porn gal, there are hundreds that are selling it for relative peanuts in "auditions" and internet sites. I'd wager very, very few women in porn are well adjusted or mentally healthy people. If you child ends up on a stripper pole or in porn, you've failed as a parent. period.
Posts: 62,940