Dunstan Ramsay

Maybe this will be able to help you: http://www.businessinsider.com/find-your-android-or-remote-lock-or-wipe-2015-1 https://support.google.com/accounts/answer/6160500?hl=en I would still try and attempt to locate your phone. If it ever surfaces again when you track it, report the location to the police and if they don't want to respond, then tell them you are going to confront the thief with or without them. They probably will respond thinking there could be an incident if you confront the thief. If you do try to retrieve the phone yourself, have someone with you and take photos and/or videos of the perpetrators. It might make for a good viral video.

I don't think it would be illegal to be a condenser. Although, I don't know how someone could be one, let alone want to be one.

Congratulations on your 1000th post!

Congratulations on reaching 2000 posts!

Congratulations on reaching 2000 posts!

It's because you only have one post. You have to post at least 5 times before the system will consider you a non-new member.

[URL]https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/my-grandma-the-sex-worker[/URL] Going through my parents' divorce was a weird timeâ??at 16, a part of me felt freed from the shackles of my domineering, sexist father, and the other part of me really wasn't ready for the change. Everything going on was just a huge cluster of subtleties, from the gradual moving of furniture from my family home and Dad's subtle digs at my mother and her [URL="https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/topic/family"]family[/URL]. In true teenager-in-the-middle-of-a-divorce fashion, I was the prized object in my parents' own personal tug of war. He nitpicked at every banal aspect of their lives and tried to spin it in a way that suggested I, too, would become like them if I was around them for too long. But one day, all the trivial shit he liked to condemn exploded into something much, much bigger. "I don't want you to take sides, Rachel, but your mom's family isn't what you think it is. They've lied to you. Your grandma was a prostitute, and that's how she met your grandpa." And that's how my dad broke the news to me that my grandmother was a sex worker, and that my "childhood was a lie"(his words). My initial reaction was that of a fairly-mature-but-still-naïve 16 year old: "Wow, Grandma was a hooker." I remember a million thoughts went through my head, ranging from, [I]"Is he lying to be spiteful? That's a low blow,"[/I] to [I]"I can't believe he said this to me.[/I] [I]This is fucked up." [/I]I didn't feel disgusted or betrayed; I only felt inquisitive and even a little impressed. I thought it was badass and I wanted to be like her. I tried to probe my dad about the details of the huge family secret he just revealedâ??very clearly only to spite my motherâ??but he said that was all he knew. My dad kept holding his head in his hands, repeatedly saying, "You'd just never expect it; she doesn't look like a prostitute," as if sex workers even wear some kind of easily identifiable uniform. In fact, my grandmother carries herself in a way that rubs your own shortcomings in your face: She's dignified, educated, fearless, and the most poised and well-travelled woman I've ever met. Seven years on from my parents' divorce, I called my grandmother, Gladys, to talk about her past. Before she answered, I considered hanging upâ??I wasn't really sure how to feel, and I worried that I would let a knee-jerk reaction slip and offend her. What if I asked a question she deemed too personal? What if she gave me an answer I wasn't prepared to hear? Her voice sounded more brittle than I remembered; she's 82 now, and I worried that I'd never get the chance to have this conversation with her. But I refused to let my Dad have the final say in her life story and what she's been through. When she picked up the phone, I could tell she was nervous to speak to me about this. She's known me my entire life, and I'm her granddaughter who she watched grow up. "I feel like I've betrayed you by keeping this a secret; you are a grown woman now," she told me, with a hint of regret in her voice. Gladys was born in Caracas, Venezuela in 1933 and lived there until she left for the States in the 1970s, after my mom was born. With two young children from a previous relationship and an absent father, she struggled to afford basic living costs and wasn't able to enroll them into school. As a predominantly Catholic nation, the only schools available were religious schoolsâ??ones you couldn't get into if you were a bastard. "My goal was to find a man that would give a surname to my childrenâ??at that time, if your biological father did not recognize you as their child, your life would be very difficult." She got into sex work through a good friend who was also a prostituteâ??she too had children and was in financial crisis. Every night, my grandma would leave her kids with her mother and tell her that she was going to her job at an overnight factoryâ??a perfectly credible story. In the early 50s, Venezuela went through an industrial revolution that saw it soar to become the world's [URL="http://www.nationmaster.com/country-info/stats/Economy/GDP-per-capita-in-1950"]fourth wealthiest country per capita[/URL] (a title that has now been traded for the home of the [URL="http://uk.businessinsider.com/the-50-most-violent-cities-in-the-world-2015-1?r=US&IR=T"]second most dangerous city in the world[/URL]). It was also the golden age for the poster wife, the movement most debilitating for Venezuelan female sex workers at the time. "This was the 50s in Venezuela and, even now, it's still a very conservative, overly religious, misogynist society. Men ruled Venezuela now and they continue to rule it today," Grandma told me. [URL="https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/topic/prostitution"]Prostitution[/URL] has always been rife in Venezuelaâ??so much so that it is entirely legal. How could a country that has always recognized prostitution as a serious profession attach such a social stigma to it? "Sex has always existedâ??everyone did a lot of things behind closed doors. It wasn't an open society. Prostitution has existed since the beginning of time." To many, then and now, prostitution was seen as a way to have a better life. "Caracas was a prostitution hot spotâ??all the Americans went there to see us. It was almost like a novelty. We weren't even called hookers; we were called 'appointments' in appointment-only brothels. There were two tiers of prostitution: women like us, and women who were on the street. We were high-end, so the money was very good." She was making between 85 and 95 bolívares fuertes a night, which was the equivalent of about $421 at the timeâ?? a small fortune. A year into sex work, she met my grandfatherâ??Josephâ??who was one of her regular clients. "Your grandpa loved prostitutes; he used to come see me every weekend," Grandma said. "He was a very shy, timid man. I could tell he wasn't confident enough to talk to women, but still had all the natural urges of a man." What she said completely took me by surprise. Growing up, my grandfather was a very outspoken, assertive French-Venezuelan man. I guess he made up for the confidence he lacked in his romantic life in everything else. When you're a kid, you look at your seniors as if they're superhuman; not people who can be weak, emotional, and unstable. It was like I was having a really fucked-up epiphany about my family as a whole â?? I'd never considered my grandparents went through real, gritty life experiences. To me, they were the perfect, pure grown-ups around me who have never been hurt. My grandma could hear the shock and doubt in my voice. "The reason your grandfather could never have more kids is because he picked up a lot of [URL="https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/topic/STDs"]STDs[/URL] and was left sterile," she said."I had four abortions because men wouldn't follow the rulesâ??I went to very expensive doctors who gave me [URL="https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/topic/abortion"]abortion[/URL] pills and herbs. A lot of my colleagues died getting under-the-table abortions, which is something I would never do. I'd rather have the kid." I choked up. My grandmother had a long history of reproductive health issuesâ??hysterectomies, cervical cysts, and fibroids. It all made sense. We spoke about the treatment of prostitutes who had job-related health problems, and how doctors, claiming "they did it to themselves," constantly rejected these female patients from their waiting rooms. Unsurprisingly, most of these doctors were men. For Grandma, the institutional abuse didn't stop there; it translated into how she was treated by some of her clients. Though prostitution was legal and apparently regulated by the government, this was seldom put into action. Police officers would turn a blind eye to harassment or exploitation because they simply didn't respect female sex workers. "I became very cold and insensitive to sex," Grandma told me. "I started having less respect for men. A lot of times they didn't treat me right because they didn't see me as a decent, normal woman. At the time, that wasn't acceptedâ??and it is still not accepted fully now." She told me horror stories about the abuse she endured from drunk customers; she's been spat on, slapped in the face, called a [I]puta[/I] (Spanish for whore), and ridiculed just walking down the street. "I remained professional throughout, but these silly men would mistreat me because they thought they were better than me. They didn't realize this was a business transaction. Well, I was smarter than all of them. I made them pay the few coins that they had on my softness of my body." But despite the moments of darkness that she experienced in her work, she said she would never regret her time as a prostitute. "I'm not embarrassed by my sex work at all. It gave me a good life. Thanks to that, I found a good man and I gave my children a last name. Your grandfather kept his promise and got me out of there. I found my family." Growing up, I put Grandma on a pedestal. She had always lived with me in my family home; I'd got to know her on an intimate level, not just the way you'd form a relationship with a grandparent who lived in another city. What always particularly struck me about my grandmother was her ability to always remain calm, no matter what the situation. Whenever my parents would argue, she'd simply walk into the room, tell them 'quiet down,' and walk out like nothing was even happening. When someone would cut her off in traffic, she'd roll her eyes in a way that seemed like she pitied them for being inept. The way she tranquilly approached conflict was the opposite of me; I was a crier, I had anxiety attacks, and I would raise my voice. I wanted to be serene like her. That same stability is what won my grandpa over. As her client, he visited her at least two nights a week, something she told me was rare in sex work. Usually, you'd have regular clients, but 'regular' meant once or twice a month for her. She knew he was falling in love with her because not only did he tip her very well (something else that was rare), but he began to ask her questions about her personal life, interests, ambitions, and family. I asked her if she felt threatened or if he was being intrusive, but all she said was: "We were falling love." They regularly met outside of the brothel in secret, which was strictly forbidden. They got to know each other more over the course of six months, and then Grandpa proposed to her. My grandma knew he was at least financially stable enough to afford prostitutes, but she admitted that she was worried about money; she still had two young children to feed, and they weren't even his. Unexpectedly, when they got married, he gave her two sons his last name and took care of him like his own. After my mother was born, they left Caracas together and flew to America and settled down in Miami. I wondered how many people in my family knew of her past â?? news must have travelled far enough to reach my dad, because my mom's family was never particularly close to him. When I asked her if she told anyone, she simply said, "No". My mom later told me that there were rumors flying around the family, but it was just brushed under the carpet. Understandably, at that time, it was likely that my grandmother's own family would have disowned her if the truth came out. When I was younger, Grandma always told me I needed to be a lady, but one who was smarter than all the boys around her. Now I know whyâ??she [I]was[/I] one of those women. "I felt empowered as a sex worker and a woman. I felt in control," she said. "I could handle the situation and manipulate it in a way that only benefitted me." Towards the end of our phone call, I thought a lot about my dad's attitude towards her on the night he told me. He approached every word with extreme trepidation, almost to make sure he wasn't over-selling the story, worried that I would find a part of it attractive. He wouldn't even call it prostitution; he would say "what she did." His clear disrespect for my grandmother had the reverse effect â?? it made me disrespect [I]him[/I]. My grandma is still the best woman I know, and her life choices have made her who she is. She's 82 now and lives a long way from appointment-only brothels of Caracas. Down the phone, she told me her story with the same authority and confidence she had back then. "If men have the right to pay for sex without judgment," Grandma told me, "then women also have the right to make sex their career. I'll stand by that until the day I die."

I believe the problem is with the link itself and nothing to do with your computer. The link is "dead" and the line "Click here to view full size or /large images" appears in the post. If the link was good or still active you would see a small thumbnail of the image. I have noticed it a few times in old posts.

Happy birthday! Hope you have a good day!

First you have to create an album, once you have done that, then click on the link to add photos. Then you will see see three buttons to add photos. Bellow that you will see: Maximum File Size per Picture 97.7 KB Maximum Picture Dimensions 600 by 600 Pixels Followed by the rules governing the photos for this site.

Happy birthday! I hope you enjoy your day!

Stuart Little.

Happy birthday! Hope you have a great day!

Yes, you are able access this site.

Neither one of those is the Bridget that inti-mate is referring to.

Happy Birthday! I hope you have a great day!

There is a gentleman from Ottawa who is suing the parent company that owns the website because of the data breach. http://www.cbc.ca/news/technology/ashley-madison-data-1.3198101 I also hear on the radio that the website offered an additional service for anyone who decided to delete their profile. The service cost an additional $20 and it was to have any personal information related to the person's profile completely wiped from their database. Well apparently this hack as shown that the service they offered didn't in fact do what it was suppose to. I would assume there might be a class action lawsuit against the company regarding the fraudulent service.

Try getting a small pack of ice to soothe any pain or discomfort from the cut. Grab a bottle of hand lotion and box of kleenex. Then load up your favourite porn. And enjoy at your own pace.

If you do a Google search of the photos, you will see they belong to a girl named Jailyn Eojeda from Arizona. The number is a Montreal number. So there is a highly unlikely chance the photos are real. http://instaweb.me/u/jailyneojedaoficial

If you are not completely sure about using a Chromebook, Acer is coming out with a new Windows 10 cloud based laptop similar to the chromebook. http://www.engadget.com/2015/08/04/acer-aspire-one-cloudbook/

If you need to use any Microsoft Office type of software, you can use Google's own version. Their versions are Docs, Sheets, Slides, and Forms. http://www.google.ca/docs/about/ There are some libraries, like the Ottawa library that will let you borrow a Chromebook.

The photos are fake.

All the photos are fake. If you do a quick search online, you'll see them posted all over.

[URL]https://www.vice.com/en_ca/read/strippers-explain-strip-club-etiquette-723[/URL] A couple months ago, photographer Amy Lombard and I [URL="http://www.vice.com/read/twenty-hours-in-new-york-citys-raunchiest-strip-club-456"]spent nearly 24 hours in Show Palace[/URL], one of the only all-nude clubs in New York City. Although we spent the entire lifecycle of a mayfly there, we sensed that the stories we heard were only the tip of the iceberg. So we decided to go back to learn more from the strippers and the club manager about their job, their clients, and how to behave in a strip club. Over the course of a lazy Sunday night (lazy because who goes to a strip club on Sunday?) we hung out in the dressing room with the dancers, who told us their best stories, advice, and tips from working in the industry. These are their words: [B]DON'T TRY TO HAVE S3X WITH THE DANCERS[/B] A lot of guys get madâ??they don't understand that I'm a dancer. I don't have sex for money, and some guys get very upset about that. They won't shut up. "Oh have sex with me, I'll give you money. I'll give you however much money you want." That's probably the most annoying thing. A lot of the guys are from Asian countries, or they're Middle Easterners or South Americans. I think there might be cultural differences. Very often, in the clubs in those countries, if the woman is in the sex industry, she will have sex for money. There may not be a subset of women that only dance like there is here. I don't know if they're serious or not, but I've had guys offer me like $1,000. And I'm like, [I]Listen, I don't have sex for money. If you would just sit back and relax, you could enjoy your dance[/I]. It's very irritating. Men need to just try to understand the limits. Enjoy the club for what it is instead of wishing it was a brothel. â??[I]Jennifer[/I] I had a girl in the private dance room. We have cameras, you know; we watch the private rooms. She was bent over and she broke the cardinal rule: Never let the guy stand up. So the guy was standing up pretending to like dry hump her from the back, and then he pulled his dick out like he was going to put it in and I was here watching the cameras and caught it. But she was scared. We immediately grabbed the guy and let him out (not so nicely). You can't violate the strippers. You cannot do that. â?? [I]Mike Diaz, Manager[/I] A guy will pull his dick out a couple times a week, usually in the private rooms. I just go, "You got to put that away," and some guys won't. So I just go, "I'm walking out if you don't put that away," and that tends to work. I think I've only had one guy I've had to walk out on in the six years I've been dancing. Most guys are good about it and do what you say. â?? [I]Jennifer[/I] [B]BE NICE, NOT CREEPY[/B] I turned 18 on January 17. There was a 70-year-old guy here my first night. He was like, "Just don't give me a heart attack." I was like "Yeah, I'm going to try not to." There was another old guyâ??he was like 63. He was like, "I would so take you out on a date. Are your nipples pierced? I want to suck on your nipples and fuck the shit out of you right now." And I was just like, "What?!" I always end up with the weird ones. And then a lot of guys will tell me that I look like their little sister or something. There's a guy who came in once. We went to a private room and he was like, "You're so beautiful." And as I'm dancing on him, he goes, "Oh my God, you remind me of my daughter, I'm going to tip you all night." I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. I stopped. I was like, "Excuse me." He was like, "Oh, I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out." I was like, "Oh... OK. I'm just going to proceed with what I'm doing." But after that there was this weird tension. He knew he fucked up. So, he just stayed quiet. But today he brought me cupcakes! He said, "I was at my job, and I was thinking about how precious you are, and so I made you some cupcakes." â??[I]Asia[/I] [B]WEAR DEODORANT[/B] I had this one guy who really stunk. He was a college boy. He didn't wear no deodorant. He was sweating nasty. He smelled like onions. I was in there an hour with him and I had to deal with that smell for so long. I kept, like, rubbing my nose trying to give little keys like, [I]you need deodorant[/I]. It was horrible. â?? [I]Asia [/I] [B]YOU'VE GOT TO PAY FOR FETISH PLAY [/B] There was this guy who liked to smell butts. We go to a private room and he goes, "I got this freaky fetish. I'll give you a lot of money for it." I was like, "What is it?" And he was like, "I like to smell butts." At first I was kind of creeped out, but... what happens in the champagne room stays there. He just wanted [me] to bend over and catch a whiff. One whiff and that was enough. â?? [I]Ruby[/I] There was a guy who liked to dress up as a woman. He put on one of the dancer's clothes, G-string, everything. She let him wear them. Recently, on the day that they changed the law where homosexuals could get married everywhere, he walked around the club in a G-string and a dress and he got on the pole and started dancing. Everyone left him alone though. He had a lot of moneyâ??like a few thousand. â??[I]Paloma [/I] [B]DON'T COME IN YOUR PANTS[/B] I hate when guys come in their pants. It's nasty. You can just dance on them, like [URL="http://www.vice.com/read/i-wore-a-spandex-diaper-to-a-strip-club-so-i-could-come-while-receiving-a-lap-dance"]you're dancing on their lap, and they come[/URL]. And it has gone through and soaked someone's pants before, and you'll feel it on the back of your leg, and you'll be like, "What is that?" And they'll look embarrassed and they'll tell you, "Oh, I just came." But I leave after that. It's not funny! Give me a warning sign so I won't sit in it! Now that it's happened to me before, I'll tell them, "Listen. When I'm dancing you need to not do that. If you are going to come, please give me a warning so I can stop dancing." â?? [I]Ruby[/I] [B]RESPECT THE DANCERS[/B] Some guys come in with the wrong idea and they want to treat the dancers like garbage. I had a guy come in the other day, a well-dressed kid. He comes out of the cab and I was standing at the front. You know those guys who get overly familiar right away? He was like, "Hey, what's going the fuck on?" I'm like, "Kid, what are you talking about?" He's like, "You got fucking bitches in there?" I'm like, "All right, first of all, you come in here with that kind of attitude and I'm going to end up throwing you out. Second, you come in and talk to these girls like that, I'm going to throw you out. And you're not getting any refunds either." The guy looked flabbergasted. But you got to defend the girls before they even come in sometimes. Some of these guysâ??they just look at them like they're nothing. Nothing. Some of these girls are mothers. Some of these girls are students. My ex-girlfriend, she became a world-class surgeon, but she started as a stripper. There's articles about her. â??[I]Mike[/I] [B]DON'T ASK THEM TO MARRY YOU[/B] Of course I get the guys who want to marry me. They say I shouldn't be doing this job. It's a bad job and I should go marry them. And it's almost always Indian guys. They say it's not good that I'm here; that I should be married. I just tell them that I don't want to be married, and then they tell me that it's terrible that I want to be single. I should be home and having babies. And I'm like, "Nah, I like my independence." â??[I]Jennifer[/I] [B]BE COOL AND KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL[/B] Sometimes, if you give a customer your number, they'll call like they're dating you. They have no chill. I'll block them and they'll call from other numbers. There was one I met that I liked. He liked the fact that I was very nice, but he got on my nerves because he talked a lot, but he was spending a lot of money. The first time I danced with him, I got $1,200 from him. I gave him my number the second time I saw him. But once he couldn't get in contact with me, he was actually coming to my job to find me. He tried to pull "I'm going to stop going to the club, we should hang out outside." He wanted pictures in his phone of us together like we were dating. â??[I]Paloma[/I] I get asked out five to ten times a night and I'm just like... I tell them they have to come back if they want to. They got to see me here a couple times first because otherwise how do I separate the good from the bad? I can't tell who you are in a half-hour. If there's a genuine chance I might want to see them again I tell them to come back and we'll see. I try to be pretty honest about it, and guys that I would never see outside I'm like, "Sorry, I don't see customers outside of work." Plus, if I went out with everyone that asked me, I wouldn't have free time. But I have a couple people that I've made friendships with inside the club and I see them sometimes. I used to have a customer who, on my birthday every year and at Christmas, would take me to a Broadway play and a nice dinner at one of the restaurants around Broadway. That was cool. â??[I]Jennifer[/I] [B]BUT IT'S OK TO MAKE A PERSONAL CONNECTION[/B] The hour-long private rooms are always a lot of talking. You almost never dance for a straight hour. I have a bunch of customers who come in who just like to talk to me. I have guys who I don't even get undressed for. One of my best customers here is a French guy. He'll do like two hours with me and we mostly just talk. Guys love to confess to us things they wouldn't tell other people, like their sexual secrets. They like the affection. They like the attention. Once or twice, someone has gotten emotional and started to tear up. I used to have this customer who would come see me. One time after he got some stuff out of his system, he told me about his life, his childhoodâ??he teared up a little and was just like, "I had a really good time, that really relaxed me. Thank you." Part of this job is practically being a therapist. It's funny, but as a dancer you don't make the most money because you're the prettiest. You make the most money because you can connect with people. I've seen gorgeous girls not make any money at all and girls who weren't traditionally good-looking do really well just because they knew how to talk. They knew how to connect with people basically. That's what they come here for. These men just want a connection. â?? [I]Jennifer[/I]

What are the odds that the significant others would see the information leaked about their spouses? How many people Google their spouses name?