Watching a classic
Casablanca Class I Fix
Trix cereal for adults
Goddess sundress
The class act you need to guess
Her fit* no-one would
know vibrant
Getting the OJ of the miracle
Sunbathing at the
     *Pinnacle

His skin news of the
Chronicle
The fix-up finale deeply
in her classic smile
Sunflowers of the sunray  
Tropicana class act deviant play

Quickdraw Gunfire
Her hot tango steps in action
Copacabana
Diamonds no chips
Big tips at the Gentleman
OH! Boy the cabana detention
Class I comes with affection
Kiss is not a kiss without a real scene

In action to miss a classic movie hit
Adventure Trips  flipping homes
In the classified newspaper middle section

She is the Classic with an illuminating passion

I the Classic one and he is
surfing the internet
So fit to be tied but casual love
She the same person wearing her
flip flops
******* off *Root beer float tops
The root of all evil
That She-devil Sire
Not the ordinary campfire

It takes a certain Class, I can fix peoples
problems  like great ***** of fire
We are not signs or perhaps it's in the signs
Emblems
Where you came from no problems
Take action get more satisfaction
Army grenade we are all
fighting in action
Action speaks louder than words
One of a kind the rare find
A classification of her mind
Understand each other
do the hiring
  Trump in action job firing

What drives us and gives us
gratification
We need to love what is above
our minds
I believe sometimes you don't have to be where the action is

The Rainman Rainforest Vacation
You are the I phone off
with the ringer
Classic type Class I
Our computer all rules
codes and passwords
The religious Pope up front
He's the  Marlon Brando waterfront
You have the polka dot bikini

Panera Sandwich Panini
Orange you glad its cantaloupe
He wants to elope
your classic smile
Exclamation point
At Times Square you could
lift her for miles

Whether we look modern
The technology is always out of reach foreign
Or wearing your heart in his heart
Your wiggle walk
The classic style to talk
Fifties **** smoke
Born to be wildlife everything
is on Castaway
Or layaway on hold

And he is athlete runner so hype
Everyone is busy on
Twitter or Skype
The Facebook and photos

Dorothy loves wizardly Oz and Toto
Were all together like
a congregation, not a citation
Living in the city paying rent
Another wicked concert event

How many times did you get that notification?
The auction house in action the bid five times
Those hot leads of crimes
Playing for a nickel heads up dimes
Class act Quarterback
Elephant treasure trunk
ten commandment
Class, I lady leading the way
Class, I fix the parliament
Her classic fifty style army dress in action
Her bullet lips caught quite an attraction

Feeling the comfort food
Mac and Cheese
Silly names those 
 Canadian A&W
ATM Class I
The French fries do or dies
Skinny He's the Ham Mac
You're the spicy Cajun
on the speaker Mic
What classifies everything in
our life
High stunts action cliff taking a dive
**** Bill he kills me all the time

That Buffalo Bill Chicken Mac
Bombastic not the
forever love classic
With a whole list dark Raven
Crystal rock Haven

Everything lately goes so fast
Getting in Saint Anthony fire
She is the livewire
The gunfire or the cease her fire
Out of money  honey bee
******* mansion multiplier
Everything you're
near his or hers
Wineglass stir me
like an amplifier
What happens to your
responsibilities running
racing your own time
The  Coffee man suitor
My Godly dictator
The saltwater taffy-like lava
Comic Disney Pixstar meet Daffy Duck
Or you overqualified being lied too
Oh! Chuck

Like a candle in the wind its in
the science hot steamy
romance engagement
What awaits things to come
getting blown away
It just like any other day

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The young maricones and the ***** muchachas,
The big fat widows delirious from insomnia,
The young wives thirty hours' pregnant,
And the hoarse tomcats that cross my garden at night,
Like a collar of palpitating ****** oysters
Surround my solitary home,
Enemies of my soul,
Conspirators in pajamas
Who exchange deep kisses for passwords.
Radiant summer brings out the lovers
In melancholy regiments,
Fat and thin and happy and sad couples;
Under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and moon,
There is a continual life of pants and *******,
A hum from the fondling of silk stockings,
And women's ******* that glisten like eyes.
The salary man, after a while,
After the week's tedium, and the novels read in bed at night,
Has decisively ****** his neighbor,
And now takes her to the miserable movies,
Where the heroes are horses or passionate princes,
And he caresses her legs covered with sweet down
With his ardent and sweaty palms that smell like cigarettes.
The night of the hunter and the night of the husband
Come together like bed sheets and bury me,
And the hours after lunch, when the students and priests are *******,
And the animals mount each other openly,
And the bees smell of blood, and the flies buzz cholerically,
And cousins play strange games with cousins,
And doctors glower at the husband of the young patient,
And the early morning in which the professor, without a thought,
Pays his conjugal debt and eats breakfast,
And to top it all off, the adulterers, who love each other truly
On beds big and tall as ships:
So, eternally,
This twisted and breathing forest crushes me
With gigantic flowers like mouth and teeth
And black roots like fingernails and shoes.

I come from New Orleans where the swingers hook up with the singers, and the boxes have a person inside who speak to you through a thick horizontal slot in the door. You come from Minnesota where the most aggressive sentence is “Hi, how are you” and you’ve attended church every Sunday of your life, even though you don’t really believe in god.

We came to the West to skate with the surfer junkies. But then the harbors got bombed and we moved out East to see the hipsters and the artists beggin on the streets. We went to the South with the racists and bigots were dying for a good show. We moved up North to escape from the 70s, and with the 80s on the rise we figured we’d best stay away.

The 70s were rockin’ with **** and LSD in parks and concerts, and on benches on the streets. The smoke in the air was everywhere, from the slums in Wisconsin to the cities of Dallas. Even the poor were lost in the haze.

When the 80s arrived with Rock ‘n’ Roll and techno beats from windowsills upstairs. The music was groovin’ and the ladies were fine. We saw billboards of our names in neon orange lights. The *** was replaced by coke, and the LSD with ****** singing and swinging with delight in our eyes.
When the AIDS broke out we were sick in our beds listening to Pink Floyd and Elton John, and still we were singing. The 70s got us high while the 80s made us die

We lived through wars in Vietnam, and Korea; we fought back the communists with red ink on our hands. We broke down the door into China and got them to arrive in the present and join the world. Although their chairman sits on a chair of lies he leads them with an angry fist in the air pumping “three cheers for Mao”. “Three cheers for Mao”.

When the Soviets launched themselves to the moon we responded with our money and flashed our shiny new machinery in their faces. We marked our territory and claimed triumphantly that “We’re the best”. And we launched our war nukes and pinned them into intimidation. Then the Cubans sought revenge for the death of the Pigs on their Bay. With rifles in hand we stormed the beach and unearthed Castro and his regime.

With our beds soaked in blood, and our dreams covered with fog, hand in hand we lay. We recalled the dances in the backs of old Cafes where the passwords were as simple as three quick knocks and two slow ones. We remembered the guns that pierced the heavenly chorus for the negros in the south. And we thought about the music of the 70s and the death in the 80s and I thought about you for a minute more.

working with a brain that evolved in caveman days
unable to parse  these urges
coded into my double helix
I find influences of meditation
in choosing passwords
for those ten million e-mail accounts
I created
forgot about
were
broken into
taken my
ssn#
my birthdate
so I got calm
thought about Nirvana
about fantasy and reality
tried to calm the
default Node network
and see clearly
that passwords when evolving were not needed
I got calmer
hmmmmmmmmmm
ing
overcoming delusions
I changed my name
to Evaporate
and my ssn# to none
and my password to
Ou812
****
I am stupid
just told all you's

She who has her own but uses his I postulate to deceive, to manipulate, to conjure up feelings and thoughts, to market and promote what she likes and values in his name, to elevate her status as a y and as a z in his viewers' eyes, to elevate his status so that through association hers is raised, to... is his wife who uses (his) social media as a device, as a ploy, as a stratagem

And it is he, her husband who is to blame for allowing her to be deceptive using a tool of his, a tool by which the public understands to be (his)...why of course, his first and last name is ascribed it
It is he, her husband who is responsible for enabling her deception and her game playing

He went along with it from the start
She asked for my passwords, I have nothing to hide was said of the reason he gave them to her, said about 12 years ago
Why do you want my passwords?, is what should have been the reply. What do you need my Facebook and my email passwords for?

We're not like you and him...You've been married a long time...
We're newly married
said to a relative
Logic would say, if both parties are questioning at the start of their marriage whether each can be trusted or not, the two needed not to have gotten married
But was the issue of trust (as illegitimate of a reason as it is given marriage and distrust of one's partner are incongruent) the reason (what her husband concluded/assumed) or the primary reason or the only reason she asked for his passwords?

12 years later, she still has his passwords

He's still going along with it
I postulate because what she's doing has resulted in no serious harm to him (so he thinks), it does not threaten him in any serious way(s), there is no/there are no immediate or negative consequences to him that he deems meaningful, it's very, very likely that by now, 12 years later, he's been conditioned to think that such abuse is normal, yes a kind of domestic abuse that he gives his consent for, not by a husband toward his wife as many, could be said most conceive domestic abuse to be but by a wife towards her husband

And they have her in the classroom teaching and grooming very young kids with no other adult in the classroom regularly to observe her and what she's doing
Just like how she puts much on camera should have had a surveillance camera in her classroom
And the primary reason she's in there, the reason it was allowed to happen...my hypothesis is because they have been long time friends of her husband and like him

His Facebook is her name
His social media is her fame

Viewers don't be misled
Viewers don't be fooled

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1975 Art Institute is tactic for Odysseus to put off dealing with real world also investigate range of visual techniques gay instructor fruitlessly endeavors to ****** him he enjoys several affairs with beautiful girls yet Bayli haunts him main building of school is connected behind Art Institute of Chicago Odysseus spends lots of time looking at paintings Edward Hopper’s “Nighthawks” Gustave Caillebotte’s “Paris Street Rainy Day” Ivan Albright’s “Portrait of Dorian Gray” Jackson *******’s “Greyed Rainbow” Georgia O’Keeffe’s “Black Cross New Mexico” Francis Bacon’s “Figure with Meat” Pablo Picasso’s “The Old Guitarist” Balthus’s “Solitaire” Claude Monet’s “Stacks of Wheat” Paul Cezanne’s “The Bathers” Vincent Van Gogh’s “Self-Portrait” Edouard Manet’s “The Mocking of Christ” Henri Toulouse-Lautrec’s “At the Moulin Rouge” Robert Rauschenberg’s “Photograph” Mary Cassatt’s “The Child’s Bath” Peter Blume’s “The Rock” Ed Paschke’s “Mid America” Grant Wood’s “American Gothic” Jasper John’s “Near the Lagoon” and John Singer Sargent James McNeill Whistler Diego Rivera Marsden Hartley Thomas Eakins Winslow Homer his 2nd year at Art Institute involves student teaching during day then at night working as waiter at Ivanhoe Restaurant and Theater gay managers teach him to make Caesar salad tableside and other flamboyant tasks wait staff are all gay men once more Odysseus experiences bias from homosexual regime he is assigned restaurant’s slowest sections it bothers him the way some gay men venomously condescend women and their bodies Odysseus loves women especially their bodies he thinks about how much easier his life would be if he was gay in 1976 the art world is managed by gay curators gay art dealers he wonders if he could be gay yet not realize it can a person be gay but not attracted to one’s own ***? Ivanhoe hires variety of night club acts one night he watches Tom Waits perform on piano in lounge Odysseus feels inspired in 1977 he graduates with teacher’s certification he considers all the sacrifices teachers make and humiliating salaries they put up with he does not want to teach candidly he feels he has nothing yet to teach teaching degree was Mom’s idea Odysseus wants to learn grow paint after Art Institute he flip-flops between styles his artwork suffers from too much schooling and scholastic practice it takes years to find his own voice he has tendency to be self-effacing put himself down often he will declare what do i know? i’m just a stupid painter one topic artists do not like talking about is their failures how much money they cost creation requires resource paint and canvas can be expensive how much money is spent on harebrained ideas that never pan out? most artists resort to cheap or used materials few can afford their dreams he gets job selling encyclopedias that job lasts about 5 weeks then he finds job selling posters at framing store on Broadway between Barry and Wellington Salvador Dali Escher Claude Monet prints are the rage his manager accuse him of lacking initiative being spacey after several months he gets laid off he finds job waiting tables during lunch shift at busy downtown restaurant other waiters are mostly old men from Europe they play cards with each other in between shifts teach Odysseus how to carry 6 hot plates on one arm and 2 in his other hand the job is hectic but money is good experience educates differently than books and college a university degree cannot teach what working in the real world confronts people learn most when they are nobodies he reads Sartre’s “Being And Nothingness” he wants to discover who he is by finding out who he is not often he rides bicycle along lakefront taking different routes sometimes following behind an anonymous bicyclist possibly to come across new way he does not know or to marvel at another person’s interest

truth is this life is too difficult for me the violence hatred turf wars tribalism laws judgments practices rules permits history i’m not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world i’m sorry am i repeating myself i apologize i’m not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world god please protect teach me strength courage fairness compassion wisdom love i’m not prepared emotionally to withstand the realities of this world not equipped psychologically to deal with the stresses of this world

buy divinity purchase devotion earn reward points own 4 bedroom loft with roof garden deck porch pool parking in paradise’s gated community pay for exclusive membership into sainthood become part of inner circle influence determine fate destiny of everything step up to the plate sign on the line immortalize yourself feel the privileges of eternal holiness i’m living inside a nightmare inside a nightmare inside a nightmare hello? i am dizzy in my own self-deceptions lost in my own self-deceptions alone in my own self-deceptions there was a time once but that time is gone there was a place once but that place has vanished there was a life once but that life is spent remember when things were different truth is i’m weak skittish anxious alienated paranoid scared to death pagan idiot stop

breath deeply push stale air out imagine kinder more respectful loving world please god do your stuff angels throw your weight around clean up this mess planets align stars shine ancient spirits raise your voices magic work there are words when spoken can change everything words rooted to spiritual nerves if voiced in  particular order secret passwords capable of setting off persuasions in the mind threads to the heart if a person can figure out which words what order tone of voice rate of pronunciation time of day then that person can summon powers of the supernatural Isis goddess of celestial sway of words whisper secret earth water fire air reveal your alchemy winter spring summer autumn teach about passages patterns sublime eastern western sun fickle moody moon unveil your heavenly equation north south east west  beat the drums blow winds show the path to healing path of the heart blood dirt hair *** bare the mystery of your trance dance the ghost dance sacred woman with ovaries cycles flow smell beautiful girl eyes sweetness strange awkward skinny scruffy boy great bear spirit bird jumping fish wise turtle where are you why is there no one to back me? jean paul sartre what was your last thought before you died? was it nausea? nothingness? or a wish?

we're gonna die at some point
and all that we're gonna leave behind us is a bunch of
bad reviews and 2 star ratings
for restaurants that didn't treat us right,
for uber drivers that were too quiet or too loud,
and airline companies that were responsible for 16 long hours
in an airport with too much light and no air.

the day will come and none of us will be ready,
even though some might lie about it, with a cold smile on their face.
there will be no bargaining then,
all the money in the world will be as useless as a pair of flip-flops to a legless person.
for sure, we'll regret using the expression "no regrets!" too often,
instead of accepting our vulnerabilities and our imperfections.

we're gonna die seeing our mother's smile
and hearing our father laughter,
from the day we were born.
just like then, we won't know for sure whether
this is the beginning or the end
whether we are leaving a world or coming into another.

we're gonna hope to use our last breath for something memorable,
something that won't make us not get a good death's sleep,
keeping us awake in a homemade YouTube video.
we're gonna wish that someone finds all of our passwords
and breaks into our emails and social media accounts to realize that
we were geniuses, or something like that and we're gonna look forward
to not being successful and
not seeing anyone cry over something that we said while we were drunk or, worse..

there's nothing more annoying than a come-back to an argument
that comes too late,
the one great idea that could shut down anyone if it would appear in the middle of a fight,
and not afterwards. always afterwards.
when the quarrel initiators are already tucked up in bed, covered in wet dreams and solitude.
nothing for you to do. no hour is decent enough for you to call them in the middle of the night,
shouting your retort, then hanging up the phone and laughing like a crazy person.
that's how after-death must feel like.
a smart answer that comes too late and that no one gets to hear.

our bodies start dying from the day we are born,
little by little,
small chunks of tissue getting rid of our existence,
making us less appealing, less ripe.
our bodies become dumber and dumber every day and start
throwing emotional **** everywhere, hoping to make others mad,
and not care as much about us, near the end.
in a way, it's a form of protection.

we're gonna live through other people's deaths,
we're gonna be "survivors" and "carriers of their memory"
we're gonna try and appear strong for their closest ones,
even though we will forever be broken on the inside after they
become cool, underground.

as we grow older, we believe that death is more about us than the one leaving.
It's possible that we didn't even get to meet him personally,
but he "left a great impression on us", from his real friends' stories.
it's possible that we randomly cross paths with a funeral cortege of some unlucky stranger
and we would still believe that it's about us.
every time we stumble upon it from an observer's point of view, we cannot stop
thinking that it could have been us in that box,
forceless, incapable of protesting against the tie
or the flowers that we are/were so allergic to.
we get lost in our mind, near the coffin and our eyes start to glow
and lose liquid.
every time someone dies, it's always about us. at least, for a couple of seconds or days.

when we die, or are about to die, we find out that death is not at all about us.
it's about those that are left behind, the above mentioned "survivors".
we begin to worry about them,
to fear that there's no fresh milk in the fridge, no gas in the car tank,
that no one took out the garbage, nor fed the cat,
we are about to leave life under the impression that we forgot the fire on.
every time we die, it's never about us. at least, up until the last seconds.

there's no chance in hell that heaven's gonna accept this kind of language!
maybe the subtitle won't work for this part and I'll get off the hook.
I was thinking that one of the greatest penalties
God could give to a feeble-minded person like me
would be the possibility to choose between the infernal region and paradise.
I would end up in a very familiar situation, experiencing the purgatory of my afterlife,
in the same way I did in my entire earthly existence, not being able to pick a side,
make a decision, take a left or a right.. without overthinking it too much.

we're gonna die crying.
we're gonna die hoping that we closed the door.
we're gonna die tasting coffee.

we're gonna die when we least expect it.
we're gonna die in 3, 2..

we're gonna die trying to live.


[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVemwwIDC7c]

Moved from my home state.
Got a job doing **** I hate.
Got five kids between you and I.
They are ill tempered sometimes and we are on the fly
coming up with ways to handle the stressers
of food and shelter.
Why...
can't we leave today... Enter the fray... the edge of culture...
and make our own future?
I am caught in the thought
of my hands in the dirt and the sweat in your shirt
and no relief from the work of growing our own food.
Would it be rude to say that I've had enough of the days
of "super" markets and moving targets
and job interviews that bring hope and then bad news
when you find that it will never be enough to sustain even you, alone?
And really, what do we own, but ourselves?
Can it not be shared instead of set on shelves and hidden away in accounts that have safety nets and passwords and relationships that leave regrets and bridge-burns?
Could we be all-for-all?
Is it possible?

when they are forgotten?

It is irritating beyond belief
That you have absolutely no control
Over what you can remember
And what you can forget
Especially if you are autistic
I want to remember so many things
Essential tasks, passwords, birthdays
I want to forget so many things
People, mistakes, failures
However, Fate works in mysterious ways
Most of the time, it so happens
That you forget what you want to remember
And remember what you want to forget
In the past, I have been guilty
Of losing a number of things
Calculators, earphones, pen drives
I have been equally guilty
Of forgetting as many things
Essential tasks, passwords, important dates
However, over the last few years
I have made some progress
I am much less forgetful
Than I used to be
Because I make notes in my diary
And set up reminders on my phone
However, as mentioned before
Fate works in mysterious ways
Especially if you are autistic
Just as I thought
That I had established some control
Over what I can remember
I have started forgetting again
And this time, there is no turning back

They're a funny thing
You choose things, a word - maybe even a person -
Who you tell yourself really matter
Then you just forget
And maybe what you think matters really just doesn't

Plenty of poems from broken hearts who got loved then dumped.
Women writing poems about wanting a man back after he ***** dogged her.
Don't take rocket scientist to know something wrong with that picture.
Clue to men who ain't going to stay put even if he put a ring on it.
He's flirting with everything in a skirt, He ain't attentive after he hit it,
You gotta be the one always calling, He don't call unless he wants to hit,
He gets defensive when you want to know why he wasn't where he said he'd be.
Those are signs he's c-h-e-a-t-i-n-g and so are the ones coming up.
You catch him in lies and he makes you think your losing it.
He closes window of his computer when you enter the room.
All his is password protected and he wont tell you his passwords.
He's getting and receiving text messages he wont let you read.
He leaves the room when he gets a  call.
If you answer his phone you get hang ups, phone rings until he answers.
He wont let you meet his friends or his family.
He starts arguments so you wont go with him when he leaves.
Men don't get ****** cause I'm ratting you out. Read one too many
heart break poems to be sorry for truth telling on my gender.
Men think about *** when they not having it.
If he don't want to hit it he's hitting it else where.
Coming up is ones to skip and avoid.  
You can skip the ones who look at your cleavage and not your eyes.
You can skip the ones who live with mamma.
If he wants you to hurry up and quit talking or makes you feel like you
can't do nothing right, skip him too ladies or you gonna be bawling your eyes out over him.

Three years disappear so quickly.
Just one thought can send my heart
Back to that day, back to that room
With the black curtains.
It races and I still don’t know why.
Your hands on my waist, my shoulders, my back.
Your lips so close but not close enough.
A cotton shirt reeking of cigarette smoke
And regret. (I’ve always hated smoking,
But I still wanted to breathe you in.)
There was something familiar
About the way you said my name.
I was a child, just a child,
And you were an animal
With a crooked grin and my love at your feet.
Three years,
And I still insist on making something
Out of nothing.

Power went down twice today
Once was just a flicker
In fact in terms of laughter
I would call that one a snicker

The second time we lost it all
The house went cold and dark
So, I got the dogs both on a leash
And I took them to the park

Five hours passed before they came
And said "The power's back"
It was just then I started to
Have an I.T heart attack

I'm not one for computers
The phone, or tablet too
They had gone down with the internet
And I knew not what to do

Each electronic item
That resides inside this place
Defaults to needing passwords
And well, me...I'm so off base

I couldn't watch the tv
The computer screen just stared
It kept asking for a password
and I admit, I was a bit scared

I didn't phone my spouse to tell him
That I didn't have a clue
I'd wait for my young daughter
She'd know just what to do

In our house things are different
We never phone up a help line
Our kids reset the passwords
And our kids are eight and nine

They'll fix what I can't restart
They'll get me back on the tv
And the best things with this I.T team
Is that all their help is free.

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We converge like a flock of birds
Emerging from doorways and from behind trees
I can hear each of our feet shuffling among the golden red leaves
And smiles reaching our faces
As out various eyes meet
We crow eachothers names
Hugs are unevenly distributed between us
We set our things down and breathe sighs of relief
Days like these, we need one another
We are like a herd of animals, a family
It hurts to be apart for this long
We stretch out among the sunset colored leaves
Reading books and singing and laughing together
Sharing jackets and gloves,
Protection from the south Seattle winds
Our backpacks and instrument cases
Serve as seats, backs against the prison grey walls
We talk of the future, of the trips we'll take together
Of the old stories a few cobbled people know
We exchange usernames, phone numbers and passwords
We let eachother in
Our hearts become bare and we share
Until our stomachs are full
And the bell chimes 5 times automatically
We crow goodbyes and promises of other meetings
Walking off in groups of two or three
I walk in a group of 7, laughing and pushing eachother around
I have never had better friends, I think

What is a person in the middle harm (MITM)? Imagine this, an opponent applies up an imitation financial institution internet site in addition to entices buyers fot it web site. The person forms in their pass word, along with the aggressor therefore functions that information gain access to the lending company genuine internet site. If this describes done properly and also discretely, the user won't realise that he / she isn for the lender web page. Your assailant after that disconnects the consumer and tends to make almost any fake purchases how they wish or travels an individual business banking transactions while making his personal trades concurrently.

The best menace is usually deception because of impersonation. The particular ways regarding impersonation will vary as a result of this defense. Outside of wedding band 2 component authentication will probably push thieves to modify their own practices for you to impersonate you together with is a great technique to discourage most of these strikes.

Protected tokens, these tiny essential fobs having altering account details, have been thought to be panic disorder many of the basic safety concerns banks confront around discovering their particular consumers. It a great choice greater compared to a straightforward username and password, but it surely not just a bulletproof option that numerous men and women think that it is. Using a male didn't remember the words assault, where the individual can be giving its code and also other material, the particular enemies could clear away a forex account in just a few minutes.

Attackers are obtaining smarter every day when new precautionary features will be made against these. Many clients would think about bogus website instead of have the capacity to decide it is a false website that has been built by the assailants. More often than not these kind of web pages are generally exact same from the genuine websites.

Having a guy in between harm, Trojans along with other spyware are lying throughout wait for an person to access some sort of qualified website, mainly financial plus personal solutions. When the site involves not one but two point authorization in the get access process, say for example a protection important and also token, an individual would certainly enter in the 1 time private data in the token completely uninformed that this invasion is manufactured for the consumer.
An effective way in order to eliminate guy in the centre strikes is to try using the SSL association (as most finance institutions perform), with the user to check the authenticity from the SSL certificates from the machine there're associated with also to employ from band not one but two component certification. This proves that you are attached to the lender straight, to never a man in the center or perhaps a phishing web page in addition to youe capable to discover all by yourself employing outside of group a pair of component validation. Beyond strap 2 issue authorization is best suited for in the event the subsequent factor involving verification develops on the contract period in contrast to if a consumer fire wood throughout.

Cyber terrorists are usually trying to find pertaining to top secret info presented on your desktop. They prefer phishing episodes to help take your testimonials along with determine these individuals since you fraudulently.

The best way safe and sound ya think you might be in opposition to phishing problems plus dude in the centre strikes? Even when you may feel safeguarded searching the world wide web as well as visiting within your online banking, yourrrre still coupled to the principal steady flow of the online where by dude in the center violence could happen. Being able to view machines throughout the world to be able to method details as well as examine private data positions you actually at risk. Even if you or perhaps your business enterprise works by using beyond wedding ring two-factor authorization, all depends about the a higher level basic safety made available from your remedies service but it will depend on the way thorough the finish user in fact is. Just a good out-of-band a couple of issue verification answer may offer the safety that you might want. This is taken a little more forward through the use of any out of strap two aspect verification solution that offers absolutely nothing foot print safety measures as well.

Phishing to get Data

Phishing is often a technique for wanting to acquire hypersensitive information including usernames, passwords in addition to bank card information and facts by simply masquerading as a honest company within an automated interaction. Phishing is much like disposing of your lure looking to trap your private data. There are plenty of means of phishing by means of tricks regarding net houses along with printing but the idea is always to make believe be described as a kind of curiosity towards the sufferer. Once the enemy has generated confidence by simply pretending to be the web site you intended to stop by or even as a result of some form of transmission for instance contact or phone they're going to attempt to siphon details. Phishing can even be completed mail spoofing or im. Bankruptcy lawyer las vegas information is obtained you may be the particular victim involving identity fraud or you'll ended up being the weak link around stability your business originating from a man-in-the-middle assault.

Figuring out using the Man-in-the-Middle

Man-in-the-middle attacks certainly are a sort of eavesdropping that the assailant creates self-sufficient contacts with all the subjects and relays mail messages between the two, making them imagine that these are talking immediately conversing with each other on the non-public link, while in actuality the entire discussion is handled with the enemy. Picture this situation, you will be enjoying a casino game of telephone however pal at the center maintains adjusting the solution. When an assailant has generated appreciable link involving along with their own priority, might be by means of phishing, they might adjust communication. Using this adjustment associated with interaction they even can catch material used in two-factor authorization because most many people have net on the cell phones.

Improved Two-Factor Authorization

If you want varieties of two-factor verification the best kinds make the most of out-of-band zero size connection. Out-of-band certification implements a individual system to distinguish a customer such as the telephone sites. Strikes may happen even though not one but two point verification is present, although the prospects for a guy in the center assault working much less expensive. Employing a new zero size solution can look after a little more forward versus these types of problems. From music group a couple of issue authorization along with Absolutely no records foliage no locate of confirmation regarding and apply no information from your device used by identifying a person. The idea is that their without the need of everything being in the water there is little change to no chance being captured because of the lure involving phishing.

Though there are truly zero protection techniques that prevent strikes 100% almost daily, out of wedding ring 2 aspect authentication methods absolutely are a remarkable enhancement above solitary issue verification solutions. Moving forward tactics and a lot more complex attackers earn some types of two-factor certification look a lot more like any placebo than the usual solution. Out-of-band actually zero influence two-factor authentication is the foremost defense against phishing as well as man-in-the-middle problems.

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I changed all my passwords
So they don't include your name.
I switched to 'single' on that website.
I'm taking down all your pictures
And putting them away.
You say you won't let me go
But I hope you will.
You deserve better than me, anyway.

The thing is, I didn't cry.
You did the exact same thing as last time
But I had my will.
I didn't even cry.

My mind is here and there
run by neverending generator
it is black from the lack of emotions
yet colorful depending on life’s motion
Insane memory to remember seven different passwords to seven different usernames, completely reiterate lyrics of hundreds of songs, and raps from infamous youtubers, remembering the location of the keyboard because there is no time to look down, to remembering which button does what and when it should be used, before this one, after that. Yet, I cannot seem to recall what homework i had

I’ve been made sick by technology.
Those key boards & keypads,
The roving mouse,
The touch pad, and ultimately,
That telepathic chip
Implanted while I slept—
Who-da thunk those fingers doing the walking
Would become tendrils of the Watching Class?
Surveillance inroads to your cerebral cortex,
Ultimately taking command.
“Pilot on the bridge,” the Bosun screams,
Whenever we needed reminding
That even our Captain,
“Oh Captain, My Captain,”
I would console my crew:
“Even the Boss has a boss.”
Interesting liability issues could be raised here.
How can a human being
Be held culpable for crimes,
Any crime or thought crime,
When their mind, body & soul
Has been wired to the mainframe,
Stored in some remote Deseret,
Like that secret NSA facility,
They are building
Out in the middle of nowhere,
***-**** Utah?
So what if the people there
Are descendants of the
Original Apostles of Joseph Smith,
With a deep genetic recognition
That there was a time
When no one wanted
These Latter Day gypsies
Putting down roots.
Anywhere.
It was simply out of the question.
“Practice polygamy, really?”
That’s like wearing a sign round your neck,
A neon ankle bracelet round your crotch,
An in-your-face bright warning & caveat:
Men with wives or daughters--
**** wives and young daughters, or
Young ****, daughters--
Or old wives in any condition
& Mothers.
Are considered fair game for *******.
No thank you!
There’s the highway, Mr. Smith and
Take Brigham with you.
Cause nobody’s gonna sell you land,
Land around here.
Let alone there,
Or anywhere.
No one will sell you squat
This side, 500 miles from water.
Good water.
Farm-good water.
Wet navigable water.
By the 1830s,
The free soil
East of Ole Miss
Had pretty much dried up.
Those wacky bigamists
Pushed west again to Illinois—
The Prairie State, after all--
Raw land; still.
Raw people too,
Fearful, intolerant rubes,
Barely familiar with their own Book;
Scarcely needing another.
Our wacky gypsy Saints,
Treated like Christ deniers,
Treated like Jews, for Christ sake!
Joseph & Hiram--
The Smith Brothers
(Note to self:
Check on Mormon cough drop connection)
Slaughtered at Nauvoo.
Their Mormon brethren dispossessed of land again,
Try Missouri next--
Missouri, the show-me the door state--
These so-called Latter Day Saints
Get expelled by gubernatorial proclamation.
Saints pushed ever westward.
Until finding themselves in a place that
Even the ******* Indians didn’t want.
They dug their wells around the Great Salt Lake,
An American Negev chosen by prophecy,
They hunkered down in their desert Tel Beersheba.

But I digress.
We were talking about
That secret NSA complex
Being built in Utah,
Being built right now, July 2013.
When complete
The Watching Class will surely tune
Their screen resolutions
To those of us evincing
An unusually keen interest in
Issues like privacy.
Those among us, for example,
Using noms de internet,
Maintaining multiple email accounts,
Changing passwords
Randomly yet frequently,
Clearing browsing histories hourly,
Deploying anti-viral applications—
People: perhaps, with something to hide.
Those of us driven to paranoia
By the shape of things to come,
Those of us afraid of exposure,
Yet, incapable of staying off-screen,
Impelled by conspiracy fever,
Betraying ourselves on
Blogs and websites,
Leaving digital breadcrumbs behind.

?    ?                   ?   ?                
          ? ?                     ?    ?
?   ?            ?                          
            ?    ?    ?    ?     ?    ?

make that a billion ***** tadpoles
attracted to one ****.

Elaborate a little on the empty space.
canvas
Fill it with spills.
It all seems so accidental, did you bring your credentials?
Passwords linger throughout the discussions,
reason & recognize
Act with the valor of lightning and they will stumble like thunder... Timber.
Down falls another point on the pop chart.
Playing tic tac toe till the the tacs tic down by the toe, action falls into a drifting memory and crumples at the custodial hour.
Feet pounding time on the tiles
Repititions, turning inches to miles... Progress??
Does the diety of a paragraph outshine the novel drifter??
I mean, both read only one line at a time...

She collected lolly sticks,
        The ones with jokes on them:
        Why did the chicken cross the road?-type stuff,
Which she stained brown and used as floorboards
in her magnum opus.

The Tudor house was the best one.
It had servants’ quarters
And a kitchen with little hessian potato sacks made
of something or other she salvaged from
somewhere or other;
And the floorboards looked so real:
        painted lolly sticks
        but almost evoking the smell of varnish,
        layers of polish on a floor trodden by centuries
        in perfect miniature;
                                                Almost­.

This was the last of the three
                                                or four
                                                        doll­s’ houses she built;
The devil’s work for her idle widow’s hands.
She built this one while you were entering your final
        stalemate
that doomed dance that sits so permanently
on your conscience
like a sack of compost
full of water.
        (I choose this simile only because
        I found this in my garden yesterday,
        and it was ******* heavy.)
On paper it was simple:
        You gave her your house,
        She gave you hers.

And so her house shrunk around her and
became a dolls’ house of your own making,
Irrationally
                        she saw your god-hands reaching in
to manipulate and
extort her.

She was wrong, of course.

You were making good on your promise.
You would come through for her in her frailty.
You did – but

it was a promise you made more to yourself than her,
And she let her illogical mind
        never analytical to begin with
        now razed and blinded by grief and loneliness
                        (there was nothing to work with)
poison your good deed,
you were both dolls now.

Eight years later she died lovelessly.

She retreated into her sitting room
        the only part of the house that stayed the same
        after you moved in –
                the walls closed in to contain it
                constrict it
a hospital bed and vinyl chair with commode,
and the brown laminate floor
        just like
        her lolly sticks.

You administered painkillers
Admitted the nurses
Negotiated with your estranged brother.

but her paranoia rotted everything
and your hands cared with compassion but not love.

Gone, now,
the dolls’ houses remain.
An inheritance of clutter
in a house you bought.

You answer the phone
                                        breathlessly
      ­                                  aggressively.
You have been heaving the big one up the stairs
        that sack of compost
        that heavy conscience of yours.

You will be heaving those ******* dolls’ houses around
until I have to buy your house and care for you.
But I am telling you now:
        I am putting them in a skip
        the moment I have the chance.

They are not imbued with the joy they gave her
any more than
                        by keeping them safe from landfill
                        you can imbue them with the love you withheld.

They are painted lolly sticks and sewn hessian.
They don’t contain any more of her
than the bits of paper she kept
        passwords and bank balances
        dates and instructions for the Sky box
There is nothing left of her to protect now.

Open up the hinged false front,
                tip out the miniatures
                let the little figures be free,
                                be landfill
                                (isn’t that what dying is anyway?)
all the tangible things she touched and loved
are not avatars for her touch and her love.

The past is not present through the preservation of objects.
The past is not erased by the advancement of time
                nor can it be undone by corrective action.

Now she is on the other side of the road,
        (why did the chicken–
        behave.)
She has no further use for the things she left behind.

The moment you graced my presence, my mind switched to 16-bit mode.

You was a classic type of adventure, one evolution rarely shows.

All these side quest chicks you made me put on pause soon to be ended.

Cause playing sandbox style wasn't the type of image you've given.

Hips more curved than a sonic loop makin me want to do a quick run thru.

But your eyes told no lies they made me more than see.

That your quest was bigger than any final fantasy

So I'm taking my time to learn this pattern

To figure out how to beat your robot masters

Stage 1 your name Stage 2 your number skip to stage 6 make sure I'm the thoughts in your slumber

My mind's so focused my inputs gotta be right

One wrong move and I lose my last life tonight

No save points just passwords you say I gotta learn your codes

Wouldn't dream of cheating ya besides I don't know what buttons to hold.

Well **** baby you say that I made it to the end?

What's that? To see the true ending I gotta... Beat it.... Again?

But there's somethin about you that just seems worth the hassle.

Cause you got me jumping like mario racing to bowser's castle.

You're as cunning as zelda, as sweet as peach

As scary as you want when you feel your inner sheik.

You got a smile more connected than the perfect tetris

An old school star that's leavin me feelin rather hectic.

Cause you see it's so easy playing for the highscore

But when ya add a lil passion you don't get as easily bored

So I see this challenge as straight 2D

No circular levels just a series of puzzles between you and me

Let's make this purely one on one a street fighter thing.

No crossover tag action hyper fighting fling

See you got it all twisted just check my guide book

A good portion of character data is written on your look

Quick call doctor mario I think I got the flu

I need help tryin to convey these abstract thoughts to you

See you're like 16-bit beginnings hand drawn and expertly crafted

drawn so precisely each movement in action

So I'm focused on this quest like them double dragon twins

Ready for whatever final boss you got at the end

It makes everything worthwhile when I see your beauty on the go

And I drop my ps3 world to switch to my 16-bit mode

A warm coat on a snowy day
Words meant to be said
Stories told over and over
To-Do lists left in her head
Promises made
Bowtie for a worker’s uniform
A pair of red gloves
Umbrellas in a storm
A charger for a phone
Many different passwords used
A library book now overdue
And lessons learned too
Places which have been explored
Goals which have been made
Random keepsakes they hoard
The way that things have changed
Textbooks for a class
What makes someone strange
Combinations to a lock
Setting the alarm clock

The intimate mountain--
Weekends in a mercury supermarket--
And the nearly vindictive lilt in
Your voice when you drop the
Last 'T' in restaurant!

Perhaps for just a few months
We might dispense with the honorifics,
Because we each know perfectly
Well your finger-ring has a smile
For no one but me.

The first autumn was always impossible for me
(or at least it will be).
Winds winding like a clarinet--
A boulangerie cover of
Dies Irae.

Now where have I misplaced my
Sensory glands? Charles
Walks an intricately awkward emphasis
In ungodly,
Strangely comfortable stilettos.

The emcee has no frigging
Idea what the people want to hear anymore.
His serape and his wine--
Not to mention his women,
Although I have just now.

Poor little frog.
It looses owners off its skin
Like tadpole-seeds, over
A game of backgammon
That never really cheats anybody.

The abandoned LiveJournal account.
The forgotten Myspace passwords.
The iPod that hasn't been updated in years.
The body slumped on a threadbare sofa.
The broken earbuds and busted eardrums.

Start spreading the news:
I've already left.
Go and empty the pews;
My mother bereft.
And the Chamber of Commerce wants to blame the ****** on me.

Poetry, in some strange
way are passwords, or,
at least, the sharing of.

Every now and again, I
am requested to re enter
it, but, I forget what it was.

Reset, a bit like the GPS
lady who turns our cars
around when we are lost.

Cul De Sac, (is end of bag).
this is when we silence
the ***** for wrong info.

I whisper to you
I love you honey.
I say four small words
Simple and sweet.
As a child may say them
when it falls asleep.
Yet when softly spoken
to you in the moonlight.
The dragon that guards
The portcullis to the fortress.
that is your hearts defense’s.
Lays peaceful and silent.
I walk past him
without fear or harm.
The rusted iron gates creak open
As you welcome me once again
inside your heart.