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Dear Abby: What’s the polite way to get guests to leave at the end of the night? I’m a pretty direct person, so generally I say, “Well, it’s getting late now,” or “I’m tired and would like to go to bed,” but my husband keeps telling me I’m being rude. When inviting someone over, is it in poor taste to ask them to leave by a certain time? I love that guests feel so comfortable and welcome in our home, but my husband and I work full time and have a 1-year-old. I need some ME time at the end of the day. Rude Host In The East Dear “Rude”: A variation on how you’re handling this would be to stand up and say, “‘John’ and I want to thank you for coming, but we have to work tomorrow.” For a guest to ignore that cue would be rude. An almost surefire way to ensure guests are out by a certain time would be to make clear when they are invited that the evening will be “between 7 o’clock and 10.” http://gif-finder.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Ari-Gold-Get-The-Fuck-Out.gif http://i.imgur.com/tcd8JTR.gif

Did he wet his teepee (with his pee pee) when he was a child?

Israel tries to ban sperm mega-donor from having any more kids The hardest-working man in the insemination business is at it again this Father’s Day, doing what he does best: impregnating strangers. But now an entire nation is trying to stop him. “They’re banning my sperm,” Ari Nagel said of Israel’s Ministry of Health. Known as the Sperminator, Nagel, 42, has fathered 33 children over the past 10 years, many of them born to New York women after he ejaculated into cups in public restrooms — including at a Brooklyn Target and a Starbucks. In December, a 43-year-old woman agreed to fly the Seed Superman to Israel with the intention of freezing his sperm at a private clinic. But before he even left the clinic, Nagel said, an employee disposed of his sample and told him the facility was not allowed to store his sperm. He believes the clinic recognized his name and alerted health authorities, which ordered the move. The Ministry of Health sent a letter to the would-be mother saying Nagel’s sperm cannot be used in Israel and that all sperm banks have been alerted. According to Israeli law, sperm donation must be anonymous; neither the donor nor recipient can know one another’s identity. Nagel, the letter suggests, is widely known. Knowing Nagel’s identity and wanting him in their children’s lives, the mothers have said, is the very reason he is in such high demand in the country. An exception to the law is made when the donating male signs a documents saying he will co-parent with the mother. Nagel — who’s married with three children ages 4, 7 and 14 — signed such a document with the woman, along with six other would-be moms who have also frozen his sperm in Israel. That sperm, including some stored at Assaf Harofeh Medical Center near Tel Aviv, has not been destroyed. But those women, who have prepaid for annual storage at nearly $1,400 a year, are also not allowed to retrieve it. The Ministry of Health refuses to recognize Nagel’s fatherhood pledge. According to a letter sent to another would-be mother, “considering the number of women whom Mr. Nagel impregnated with his sperm . . . it is our position that the claim of an intention to perform true joint parenthood with Mr. Nagel is not sincere or reasonable.” The 43-year-old woman decided to fight back, suing the Ministry of Health for the right to use Nagel’s sperm. The case has been kicked up to Israel’s highest court. The hopeful mom declined to speak with The Post. Her name is confidential in court papers. The controversy has left Nagel flummoxed. “There’s a do-not-donate list, and I’m the only one on the list,” he said. As for the six Israeli women — all of whom are in their early 40s — who have had to put motherhood on hold because of the ban, “They cry to me all the time.” Nagel believes that Israel hastily changed its laws to prevent him from being a legal sperm donor, he said, based on the findings of the 43-year-old woman’s lawyer. The Post reported in June 2016 that the New York State Health Department ordered Nagel to obtain a license for donating his seed. He has yet to comply. Seven new bundles of joy were born of his fruits in the past year — from The Bronx, Long Island, Harlem, Maryland, Orlando, Fla., and Staten Island — some receiving takes on Nagel’s first name, including Aries and Chari. Another 10 babies are on the way. Nagel’s been fielding requests from women all over the globe. “I have a lot of clients in England,” he said. Earlier this year, Nagel met a potential baby mama — and her mother — in Midtown. “I like when they show up with the moms,” he said. “It means they’re family-oriented.” The younger woman conceived baby Cali, born last month, in an Argo Tea shop that day, via his usual restroom-cup method. Nagel, a CUNY math professor, has also been asked to be a guest lecturer in a local academic’s genetics class, and recently learned he was the subject of a sociology lesson at NYU.

Israel tries to ban sperm mega-donor from having any more kids The hardest-working man in the insemination business is at it again this Father’s Day, doing what he does best: impregnating strangers. But now an entire nation is trying to stop him. “They’re banning my sperm,” Ari Nagel said of Israel’s Ministry of Health. Known as the Sperminator, Nagel, 42, has fathered 33 children over the past 10 years, many of them born to New York women after he ejaculated into cups in public restrooms — including at a Brooklyn Target and a Starbucks. In December, a 43-year-old woman agreed to fly the Seed Superman to Israel with the intention of freezing his sperm at a private clinic. But before he even left the clinic, Nagel said, an employee disposed of his sample and told him the facility was not allowed to store his sperm. He believes the clinic recognized his name and alerted health authorities, which ordered the move. The Ministry of Health sent a letter to the would-be mother saying Nagel’s sperm cannot be used in Israel and that all sperm banks have been alerted. According to Israeli law, sperm donation must be anonymous; neither the donor nor recipient can know one another’s identity. Nagel, the letter suggests, is widely known. Knowing Nagel’s identity and wanting him in their children’s lives, the mothers have said, is the very reason he is in such high demand in the country. An exception to the law is made when the donating male signs a documents saying he will co-parent with the mother. Nagel — who’s married with three children ages 4, 7 and 14 — signed such a document with the woman, along with six other would-be moms who have also frozen his sperm in Israel. That sperm, including some stored at Assaf Harofeh Medical Center near Tel Aviv, has not been destroyed. But those women, who have prepaid for annual storage at nearly $1,400 a year, are also not allowed to retrieve it. The Ministry of Health refuses to recognize Nagel’s fatherhood pledge. According to a letter sent to another would-be mother, “considering the number of women whom Mr. Nagel impregnated with his sperm . . . it is our position that the claim of an intention to perform true joint parenthood with Mr. Nagel is not sincere or reasonable.” The 43-year-old woman decided to fight back, suing the Ministry of Health for the right to use Nagel’s sperm. The case has been kicked up to Israel’s highest court. The hopeful mom declined to speak with The Post. Her name is confidential in court papers. The controversy has left Nagel flummoxed. “There’s a do-not-donate list, and I’m the only one on the list,” he said. As for the six Israeli women — all of whom are in their early 40s — who have had to put motherhood on hold because of the ban, “They cry to me all the time.” Nagel believes that Israel hastily changed its laws to prevent him from being a legal sperm donor, he said, based on the findings of the 43-year-old woman’s lawyer. The Post reported in June 2016 that the New York State Health Department ordered Nagel to obtain a license for donating his seed. He has yet to comply. Seven new bundles of joy were born of his fruits in the past year — from The Bronx, Long Island, Harlem, Maryland, Orlando, Fla., and Staten Island — some receiving takes on Nagel’s first name, including Aries and Chari. Another 10 babies are on the way. Nagel’s been fielding requests from women all over the globe. “I have a lot of clients in England,” he said. Earlier this year, Nagel met a potential baby mama — and her mother — in Midtown. “I like when they show up with the moms,” he said. “It means they’re family-oriented.” The younger woman conceived baby Cali, born last month, in an Argo Tea shop that day, via his usual restroom-cup method. Nagel, a CUNY math professor, has also been asked to be a guest lecturer in a local academic’s genetics class, and recently learned he was the subject of a sociology lesson at NYU.

Mary McCormack, who played Commander Kate Harper in the TV-drama “The West Wing,” posted a video showing her hubby’s Model S ablaze on Santa Monica Boulevard Saturday. “Thank you to the kind couple who flagged him down and told him to pull over,” she wrote. “And thank God my three little girls weren’t in the car with him.” McCormack, 49, said there was no accident to prompt the flames and that the fire started “out of the blue.” Her husband, director Michael Morris, was forced to bail from the vehicle but wasn’t injured. Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Lt. Dan Nagelmann confirmed to ABC Newsthat either a battery or mechanical issue caused the conflagration. In a statement a Tesla spokesperson called the incident “an extraordinarily unusual occurrence” and said they were investigating. The electric vehicle company has had issues with their autopilot feature – includingdeadly crashes in San Francisco and Willinston Fla., – but McCormack later specified that her husband’s car wasn’t on autopilot. The actress and Morris, who has directed episodes of Netflix’s “House of Cards” and “13 Reasons Why,” were married in 2003.

This baseball player was secretly trained as a government assassin While baseball pro Moe Berg will never be remembered as one of the game’s greats — in an unremarkable career spanning from 1923 until 1939, the catcher was traded eight times — he does go down in history as the Major League’s all-star spy. During World War II, Berg risked his life to investigate Germany’s progress in creating an atomic bomb. His key quarry was Werner Heisenberg, one of the world’s most brilliant physicists. Berg’s story is dramatized in “The Catcher Was a Spy,” starring Paul Rudd as the catcher and opening in theaters Friday. Born in Manhattan in 1902 to a pharmacist and a housewife, Berg played baseball at Barringer High School in Newark, NJ. He graduated from Princeton with a degree in classical and romance languages and became notorious for practicing Sanskrit from behind home plate. (Casey Stengel, the legendary Yankees and Mets manager, once said, “Moe Berg was the strangest man to ever play the game of baseball.”) After first playing shortstop for the Brooklyn Robins in 1923, he filtered through various teams in the minor and major leagues, switched to catcher and managed to earn a law degree from Columbia University. Berg actually kicked off his spy work in 1934 — on his own volition. In Tokyo on a goodwill baseball tour with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, he donned a kimono and went to the roof of the tallest building. According to the book “The Catcher Was a Spy,” by Nicholas Dawidoff, Berg used a movie camera to film “shipyards, industrial complexes and military installations.” “Crazy as it seems,” film director Ben Lewin said, “what Moe did was part of a plan.” In the early 1940s, having retired from baseball, Berg showed the footage to “Wild” Bill Donovan, who headed up the Office of Strategic Services, a forerunner to the CIA. According to Lewin, “Moe often liked to think [his footage] was used to plan the Doolittle Raid” — America’s first aerial attack on Japan, in 1942. The derring-do impressed Donovan, who was recruiting extraordinary civilians, including Julia Child and Hollywood director John Ford, for undercover jobs. After a crash course in lock-picking, killing and pyrotechnics, Berg got his first assignment, in 1944: Gather information about progress made by Germany on an atomic bomb. He knew enough of physics to be conversant. He also had a secretive side that made him an ideal spy. According to screenwriter Robert Rodat, Berg played down being Jewish and successfully hid his supposed bisexuality — at a time when both drew derision. “He was [both] a center of attention and a secretive man living in the shadows,” Rodat said. Missions took Berg through Italy, England, Algeria and Yugoslavia; he once masqueraded as a Nazi officer to get into a munitions plant. Meanwhile, back in America, concerns mounted that Heisenberg was behind a feared nuclear weapon. Arrangements were made for Berg to attend a Zurich lecture by the physicist. Pretending to be a student, Berg hid a gun in one pocket and a cyanide capsule in the other — the weapon for an assassination, the pill for suicide, if warranted. ‘He was [both] a center of attention and a secretive man living in the shadows’ At a dinner for Heisenberg one night later, Berg heard someone say that the war was all but lost for Germany. The physicist sourly responded, “Yes, but it would have been so good if we had won.” The comment left Berg believing that Germany was far from completing its bomb. Still, he took pains to leave the event at the same time as Heisenb erg, the two chatting as they walked the streets. Berg was perfectly positioned to assassinate the scientist. But, again, nothing that Heisenberg said suggested he was on the cusp of atomic discovery. “Common wisdom was to kill Heisenberg,” said Lewin. “But Moe was a profound humanist.” By 1954, Berg was out of what was by then the CIA. He led a low-key life until his death, in 1972, following a fall at his sister’s home. He was 70. But Berg had made no secret of his time spent as an undercover man, and even left the impression that he was at it until the end. “Berg would be walking down streets in New York or Boston, where people he knew would see him and want to say hello,” said Rodat. “Moe would put a finger to his lips and say, ‘Shh.’ He let them assume he was a spy.”

The worst moment of my life is now a feature film By Susannah Cahalan Chloe Grace Moretz and Susannah Cahalan on the red carpet at the Toronto Film Festival in 2016. INT. HOSPITAL / SUSANNAH’S ROOM — DAY (NEXT DAY) STEPHEN Talk to me Susannah… She speaks really low, as if losing her voice. SUSANNAH I just…I just… Stephen not breaking the gaze. Her voice quivering. SUSANNAH (CONT’D) I just. I just. I’m scared. I’m so scared. I’m so scared here. It’s like nobody is really talking to me, me, Susannah. I feel so left out. I don’t know what is going on. I’m so lonely here. Eyes him so deep, wanting desperately to say— SUSANNAH (CONT’D) I really love you. I don’t know. I love you. I need you. I really need you here. Stephen tenderly grasps her hand. Eyes her deep too— STEPHEN Look at me She does— STEPHEN (CONT’D) I love you, too. So much. This isn’t close to how it really happened. The true story of how my husband, Stephen, and I exchanged our first “I love you’s” — chronicled in my 2012 memoir “Brain on Fire” — occurred deep in a hallucinatory psychotic episode outside a crowded Maplewood, NJ, restaurant. That was the perfect moment, I thought then, to express my feelings to the man who was my new boyfriend at the time. So, it was truly bizarre to watch two actors play out this intimate scene in front of the cameras in a totally different setting, as I watched on from the next room. It was Aug. 4, 2015, my first day on the set of “Brain on Fire,” a movie premiering Friday on Netflix based on my memoir. The movie, like the book, chronicles my life as a 24-year-old New York Post reporter the year of my unraveling — when overnight I became another person, a hostile, psychotic, unhinged person who was deeply ill. Doctors were flummoxed. Despite the troublesome symptoms, they could not find a cause and attributed the change to a psychiatric break. That is until my own “Dr. House,” Dr. Souhel Najjar, diagnosed me with the newly discovered brain disease called autoimmune encephalitis, a treatable condition that can, in some cases, be cured with swift and aggressive treatment. I was the 217th person to have been diagnosed with the disease that got its name only two years before my diagnosis — and after a year of immune-therapy treatments I had made a full recovery. I arrived on set around 10 a.m. with my brother James, who joined me to provide moral support and to right a wrong: James, my rock when I was most sick, had been edited out of the script and I was determined to at least land him a cameo. Producers placed us in director’s chairs in “video village,” a room full of monitors capturing the action in real time. When I heard Thomas Mann, the actor playing Stephen, utter: “Susannah” with such passion and concern, my stomach did somersaults. This was really happening. James raised his eyebrows and elbowed me as we both struggled to take it in. When my disease nearly destroyed me in 2009, my doctors thought I’d be lucky to regain 80 percent of my cognitive abilities. When I was at my sickest, I couldn’t read or write. I could barely walk on my own or groom myself. The disease felled me physically and mentally — robbing me, briefly but intensely, of my wits, my sanity, my memory, my self. Somehow against all odds, the worst moment of my life was now the subject of a feature film. I still remember the call that set this improbable chain of events into motion. In 2013, Charlize Theron’s production company signed on to adapt the movie. But the film was in a holding pattern as various directors and stars became attached and then unattached. Then I got the call: The producers had secured actress Chloe Grace Moretz, who shot to fame as the superhero character “Hit-Girl” in “Kick-Ass.” Suddenly I had a real answer to that cocktail party icebreaker: “Who would play you in a movie?” The answer in my case was Moretz, a superstar who was then 19. Theron, meanwhile, was a stalwart. She had already secured a newbie Irishman to direct, though I had avoided watching his buzzy award-winning debut film because I feared there were only downsides: too good and I’d get my hopes up; terrible and I’d be despondent. I got trapped in a loop that many writers get caught up in when their stories are turned into films. You feel your baby has been bastardized, made into something no longer your own, a feeling akin to looking in a mirror and suddenly finding you’re missing your nose. When “Brain on Fire” premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in 2016, I fixated on inconsequential things like what dress I would wear and how much weight I wanted to lose. I lost my perspective. This year, the movie came out in theaters across the globe before its release in the US, prompting a glut of e-mails from fellow survivors of all kinds of illnesses that knocked the sense back into me. “I am a 35-year-old woman from Indonesia . . . I watch[ed] your story in ‘Brain on Fire’ a few days ago, [it was] heart warming and amazing for me. Your story has brought my spirit and hope back. Maybe I can also be like you, you know, to be heal[ed] and back in shape 100 percent. Maybe I can defeat this disease.” “I come from Greece. I watched the movie last night ‘Brain on fire’ and my mind got crazy . . . I have a sister who is 42 years old now. The story is so similar with your story, two years ago she started [losing] her memory she even forgot where she lives.” These e-mails reminded me how improbably lucky I am. I shouldn’t have been diagnosed as swiftly as I had been; I shouldn’t have recovered as fully as I did; I shouldn’t have been able to write a book that did as well as it did; and that book should never have been made into a movie. Yet, here I am. I realized then that none of my petty problems about the film mattered. The movie was not my story anymore — because it was no longer just “my story.” So I lay down the sword I had no business picking up in the first place, having realized this movie is not about me. This movie has the potential to save lives. And what’s more important than that?

For somebody with such a pretty avatar, that was kind of an ugly comment. It's difficult to tell with that small pic, but nice blanket! (and ass, but that goes without saying )

Virginia State Police say a 15-year-old boy is dead after attempting a dangerous automobile stunt known as “hood surfing.” Authorities say the incident happened Wednesday afternoon in Washington County in southwest Virginia. Investigators say a 16-year-old girl was driving a 2000 Chevrolet Cavalier when the boy got out of the vehicle and crawled onto the hood with the intention of “hood surfing.” The term refers to riding on the outside of a moving vehicle, as sometimes seen in action movies. Authorities say the car was traveling below the posted speed limit of 35 mph when the boy slid off the hood. The driver was unable to brake in time and the boy was hit by the car. He died at the scene. The girl was cited for reckless driving.

A 23-foot-long python has swallowed a woman in central Indonesia, a village official said Saturday. The victim, 54-year-old Wa Tiba, went missing while checking her vegetable garden near her village on Muna island in Southeast Sulawesi province on Thursday evening, according to the village chief, Faris. On Friday, her family went to look for her at the garden but found only her belongings, including sandals and a flashlight, said Faris, who uses a single name. The family and villagers launched a search for the woman, and found the snake with a bloated belly about 50 meters from where her belongings were found. The villagers killed the snake and carried it to the village. “When they cut open the snake’s belly they found Tiba’s body still intact with all her clothes,” Faris said. “She was swallowed first from her head.” Videos posted on some websites showed villagers slicing open the python’s carcass to reveal the woman’s body. Faris said the victim’s garden, about half a mile from her house, is located in a rocky area with caves and cliffs believed to contain many snakes. Reticulated pythons, which are widespread in Indonesia and other parts of Southeast Asia, grab onto their prey with dozens of sharp curved teeth and then squeeze it to death before swallowing it whole. Reports of humans being killed by pythons are extremely rare. In the wild they are known to eat monkeys, pigs and other mammals. It was the second python attack on a human in Indonesia since March last year, when a 25-year-old man was swallowed whole by a python in West Sulawesi province.

Or you're pregnant.

Water Tower Inn 3545 Lafayette Ave St. Louis 63104

Call the university's Center for Vaccine Development, I guess.

She actually hated sports, she just didn't want you in her house. :D:rolleyes:

But you're still gonna call him on father's day, right? :D:rolleyes:

A California teen faces charges after he allegedly shot and killed his best friend during a fight about getting to sit in the passenger seat of a car, authorities said. Sergio Orozco, who is from Fontana, was arrested Monday in the shooting death of 19-year-old friend Jalen Wilson, news station KFSN reported. The pals were leaving a party Sunday night when they reportedly started to fight over who would get to ride shotgun in a car. Orozco, also 19, then allegedly pulled a gun on Wilson and shot him in the chest, according to officials. Authorities were called to the scene and rushed Wilson to an area hospital, where he died from his injuries, KFSN reported. Police arrested Orozco the following day on suspicion of murder. He was being held Friday at West Valley Detention Center on $1,750,000 bail, according to court records. He is scheduled to appear in court next June 20.

A mom has won Reese’s Outrageous Fan contest for naming her daughter after the popular peanut butter-and-chocolate candy bar. Renee Cupp, who named her daughter Reese E. Cupp, competed against hundreds of other Reese’s-obsessed hopefuls in the contest – which ran as a social media promotion for the new Outrageous Bars. The North Carolina mom was a clear stand out for her devotion to Reese’s and took home the $10,000 cash prize and free candy for a year, beating out others who had Reese’s candy tattoos. Cupp told People that she and her husband came up with idea to name their daughter after the sweet and then ultimately chose it because of their older daughter, Erica, who used to go around asking for Reese’s cups as a child, the publication reported. Cupp said the couple decided to “take the humor and run with it,” and named their child Reese Eve Cupp — playing off their last name. “Everyone calls her ‘Rees-ee,’” Cupp told People. “It’s our favorite candy for sure. We have it in the house almost all the time. We have the Half Pound Big Cup in our freezer and the Reese’s spread in our pantry.” Cupp told People though the candy is pronounced Reese-is, she has always called it Reese-ees and so she kept that while naming her second child. Fortunately for the couple, 8-year-old Reese is a fan of the name as well. “She loves her name,” Cupp says. “She always says ‘oh, little Reese Cup. I’m a little Reese Cup.’ She loves everything chocolate.”

Aren't men supposed to go to seed in middle age? Talk about a transformation. Former NBA star Mike Bibby looks nothing like his previous self, as he showed off his noticeably bigger physique on Instagram on Thursday. Bibby, who can be seen with his son, Mike Jr., in the photo, is almost unrecognizable from the leaner figure he cut in his playing days, which ended with the Knicks in 2012. The guard captioned the post, “Light Workout With My Son,” who plays for the Appalachian State basketball team. And the internet lost it. Gabrielle Union, in reference to husband Dwyane Wade during a 2012 playoff game, tweeted, “Hey @DwyaneWade I betchu wouldn’t chuck this Mike Bibby’s shoe during a game.” The official Twitter account of the Kings, whom Bibby played for from 2001-8, said, “On a scale of 1-10, how JACKED is Mike Bibby.” He’s probably close to a 10. Bibby played 14 years as a reliable point guard, predominantly with the then-Vancouver Grizzlies, Sacramento and Atlanta. Mike Bibby in 2012 with the Knicks

Maybe he's so anxious to get 'it' from you because he usually doesn't get 'it'.