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When we see Donald Trump on TV, we see a guy who is living the high life. Money, women and fame - all thanks to real estate. By media standards "The Donald" is a rich, successful real estate mogul. But, even he would have to admit that sometimes, he makes more money doing television than in real estate.

Whether you want a nice positive cash flow each month, ora cash profit on a quick resale, the only honest and ethical way to get there is EQUITY. Equity is the property value over and abovethe total amount owed on the property.

You may think that an investor who owns say, 50 houses, is probably very well set financially. He he might be...butif this investor has refinanced his properties to take all thecash out, or he paid too much to begin with, he may find himself on the brink of foreclosure or bankruptcy if vacancy rates climb.

One the biggest dangers I see today is the incredible paceat which home owners and investors are pulling equityout of their properties. (or worse, buying properties that havelittle equity to begin with)

Many investors are buying properties without even understanding how crucial equity is to their profitability.And homeowners who get 125% loans on their homesare asking for a foreclosure.

Regular readers know that I harp on the idea of keepinga minimum of 20% equity in every property you own. And the best reason to take lots of cash out of a property isfor the purpose of paying down debt on other real property.

Every week I get calls from investors who are desperate toget a fix on why they are losing money on a deal. The numberone reason I see over and over, is a definite tendency to take too much cash out of a property, which can kill yourpositive cash flow.

It's not flashy, it doesn't sell as well as telling someone theycan make $10,000 by next week, but buying, holdingand accumulating equity is the absolute bottom line rule forsuccess if you are a small investor. I don't want to burstany guru bubbles, but the facts are the facts.

Let's take my mom for example, who happens to be one of my favorite investors and also by far, the most conservative oneI know. She owns 5 houses all paid for free and clear. All are rented for an average of $525 per month. (Her location is Cedartown, GA., relatively low cost compared toAtlanta)Her personal residence is paid for too.

Mom is bringing in $2,625 per month in rent. Taxes and Insurance will get about $600 of it, leaving $2025. Over 12 months thatis $24,300. Not too bad. Added to other income and investmentsthis makes for comfortable, reliable retirement income.

On top of that, her passive income will increase over time as her rentgoes up. And, she is earning a solid 5% per year appreciation in thevalue of each property. Some of her houses have doubled in valueover the past 12 years. In terms of equity, mom is worth a prettygood chunk. In a good market, I'd guess penile enlargement about $800,000 justfor those 5 houses and her residence.

She took about 15 years to do it. Nothing fancy, just classic real estate investing. Anyone could do the same thing easily in10 years or less. But Mom knows that even when a property isowned free and clear, there are still unexpected events and coststhat will eat into your cash flow.

She represents the vast majority of the conservative, "never-been-toa-seminar-in-my-life", types who make up the bulk of the real investors out there. Some have 5 houses, and some have 75. I once workedfor a guy who had about 150 income properties. He was debtfree and had untold wealth in his equity. He had spent 30 yearsbuilding this portfolio, buying good deals as he came across them.

Like Mom, he also is careful to save money, avoid wasteful spending, andkeeps his equity in tact, so that his cash flow is in a safer range.

Equity gives you breathing room when the unexpected strikes. You might have a tenant that skips out on you, or a tree falls on the roof andyour deductible is $1000. Practical real estate investing requiresequity for long term safety and security.

In contrast, many of the best known real estate gurus top enlargement products have been broke and even filed bankruptcy. They could have used more equity.

Many people don't know that real estate �guru� Robert Allen, the author of "Nothing Down" and "Creating Wealth", which ignited the investing boom in the early 1990's, went bankrupt in July of 1996.

It appears that his no money down deals loaded him with too much debt. When interest rates went down and the rental market gotsoft, there was not enough real equity there to pay the bills.

Remember investing guru Robert Huff? Well known in the 1980's, he wound up in bankruptcy too.

There are many gurus and investors who like to argue that equitysitting in a property is money that is not being used. I understand their point, but I respectfully disagree. Taking equity out of a property also creates a situation in which that property requires more cash flow to sustain the costs. Then, when unexpected vacancies, higher taxes, or bad tenants come along, the investor is left with too much debtand not enough income to support that debt. The result can be catastrophic for the over-leveraged investor,some gurus have discovered.

Even "The Donald" has been broke. His restructuring of massive debt on his New York City properties during the late 1980's was the basis for his "comeback" to real estate glory. He got into a hole about 100 feet deep and then managed to get himself out. The book he wrote about the experience was a best seller that made him famous.

Mom probably won't be writing any books, but if she did, she would caution Mr. Trump not to be over leveraged. She will probably never be as famous as "The Donald" but what 'cha wanna bet she has more equity...



Golf Lessons From A Beginning Golfer penis enlargement pill penis enlargement?




Would you rather hear what you need to learn from someone who is already an accomplished golfer penis enlargement review? Would a few hours with Jack Nicholas REALLY help your game? "Just do what I do, it's easy!" Or would you rather learn from a beginner, who understands the struggles, the small improvements and remembers those early changes that lead to greater success?

It almost makes sense, doesn't it? The best coaches are often mediocre players, and the worst coaches were stars, who had everything come easy to them. Natural ability is hard to teach to others! As a beginning golfer, I have noticed some dramatic improvements, though, and wanted to pass them along to other beginning golfers.

First, the drive. To many of us starting out, it seems to be all-important. I have had instructors tell me that if you can hit the ball 150 yards, that you can work your way down any length of hole in about 3 shots, chip on and putt in, and play bogie golf without ever hitting a John Daly type 300 yard plus drive. As beginners, all we see is the big drives, the pressure, people watching us tee off, and understandably we want to be able to pound the ball!

What I've learned is that you can cut back on the swing to almost a half swing, hockey slapshot type thing, and increase the accuracy, with a small reduction in distance, until you are more comfortable with the swing. Also, a friend helped me with the description of coming "inside-out" with the swing. While that sounds complicated, imagine holding your back hand (I'm a left handed golfer) tight to your body and swinging through the ball and outwards after contact - straightened out my ball flight and increased distance.

Lessons seemed to boil down to getting into the same position, and swinging smoothly and evenly making sure the club is flat at contact - try swinging at the driving range - not to hammer the ball, but try swinging with virtually NO effort, then 20% 40% 60% etc. Get comfortable with a straight line of whatever distance, and KNOW how far each club will take you. If you need 100 yards, say, it doesn't matter if you get that with a pitching wedge or a 5-wood, as long as you can get it accurately there!

Pitching (from under 100 yards) and putting are the majority of the strokes, the easiest area to improve your game, and if you've ever played with a senior, they can be outdriven from the tee, but play so solidly from there onwards, with straight, accurate shots - you can't beat them!

Makes you rethink the wisdom of working on that booming drive, huh? The majority of time should be spent practicing the 100 yard and shorter shots - which inadvertently improves the overall stroke and technique, and makes the drives better over time!

Practice shooting 10, 20, 30 etc yards, and have the short chip down pat. Then work on putting - NOT trying to sink the putt, just to get the ball to within a club length of the hole - from ANYWHERE on the green. When you have mastered the ability to get the ball close like that, then work on the short 2 footers - almost from the start you'll find that you can get the majority in.

THAT's the secret - the drive doesn't matter, the next shot is OK, but the one that gets the ball TO the green is crucial! Then if you can putt to withing a very close area of the pin, and make THOSE easy putts - you're a bogie golfer - TA DAAA!

Wait, there's one more thing - the mental part of golf. If you have a certain ability, how come you see flashes fo greatness on some days, and flashes of needing to break your clubs on others? Same guy, same equipment, different results? THAT is the mental part of golf - and it becomes more and moe important as you master the basic strokes and techniques.

At the beginning stages of golf, you are thrown off by worrying about what others think - it feels like people are watching your drive, partners are evaluating your game, people are seeing if you can play golf well, etc. The answer to this is that everyone started off as a beginner, and VERY few people can play below 90s golf. Basically, we all suck! Take the pressure off of yourself for the first 20-50 games, and you will have the routine ingrained, the swing will be solid, all will work fairly well - under pressure or not.

Relaxation, and realizing that golf is a game against YOURSELF, are the keys. You can't play a real tournament against another golfer until you shoot in the 70s - so don't let that enter your head - try playing alone - you can - very early or very late - or with total strangers as a walk on.

Over time, you WILL get better - visibly, noticeably. Try playing penis enlargement pills a few days in a row, or a series of days either playing golf or practicing. Practice makes perfect - especially the short game that is ignored by the majority pounding shots into the darkness at driving ranges - work on the touch, the feel, the magic ability to get 25%, 50% or 75% shots, to control the distance.

Most of all, relax and enjoy the walk, the scenery, remember the things that went WELL - and move on from the ones that were duffed, hooked into the trees, or when you putted back and forth across the green like a madman - they all happen - to ALL of us - even Tiger Woods (every now and then). The trick is to concentrate on making the NEXT shot, the NEXT hole, the NEXT practice or game - be your very best. There's no going back and reshooting that shot that went into the water! Forget about it and calmly, confidently move on.

Your best games, your best shots will occur when you have a calm, confident feeling, feeling that you are just repeating what you've practiced, and easily accomplished in the past. Look at the grin on Tiger's face as he sinks a putt and pumps his fist - this game can be FUN!!



Exploring penis enlargement with vigrx plus the Ford sizegenetics penis enlargement device Explorer




From the Ford Motor Company, the Ford Explorer has been introduced to the automobile world in 1990 and is still in production at present. This is a midsize sport utility vehicle that is mostly sold in North America. Since its introduction, it has been the best selling midsize SUV in the United States. This vehicle has also been very much influential and instrumental in making and changing the view of the SUV from just a special interest vehicle to become one of the most popular vehicles types found in the whole world of cars and vehicles. It has also received a nomination for the North American Truck of the Year award for the year 2006.

For 2006, the Ford Explorer comes with a new frame. This newly restyled vehicle comes also with a new and stronger base. It also boasts of a new interior, a redesigned rear suspension, as well as third row seats that has a power folding feature. Standard for the vehicle is a tire pressure monitoring system and an electronic stability control. Like the Lincoln Navigator which is a distant relative of the Ford Explorer, the latter also has power running boards. These retract when the vehicle is in motion. This vehicle also comes with a 4.0 liter V6 base engine that has the capability to produce some 210 units of horsepower. This engine works with a six speed automatic transmission for a better performance.

This vehicle make has a range of color choices for its exterior. The list comprise of dark blue pearl, mineral gray, red fire, pueblo gold, silver birch, dark stone, black, and oxford white. The interior colors of the Ford Explorer are offered with either camel or dark stone color choices. Four trim levels are available for this vehicle and this comprise of the XLS, the XLT, the Eddie Bauer, and the Limited.

The features and options of the 2006 Ford Explorer include bucket seats trimmed penis enlargement in cloth with adjustable head restraints as well as a six way power driver�s seat with manual lumbar, second row split/folding bench with backrest recline, third row split/fold-flat bench, air conditioning with an automatic temperature control, a single CD player, an MP3 player, an AM/FM radio, an Audiophile Sound System, a subwoofer, a rear seat DVD entertainment system, a navigation system, a speed control, a steering wheel that is color-keyed with tilt column and is wrapped in leather, intermittent wipers for the front and rear with speed sensitive front, penis enlargement pill a day and night manual rearview mirror, visors, a front overhead console, a cargo management system, a center dome with map lights, an illuminated entry, floor mats for the front and rear, power windows, power door locks, power heated outside mirrors, an electro chromic mirror, automatic headlights, a keyless entry with keypad, and a black molded grille with a four bar design.



Road Trip - Vintage Car review penis enlargement products of penis enlargement products Auction




I might be running 33 years late but I�m certainly making up for lost time. I am undergoing a most demanding induction course into the automobilia world and steering me unflinchingly, while barely peering over the dashboard, is my eight year old son. Whisper it softly but I do vaguely recall a passing infatuation with cars at that age. The passing soon passed, however, and I became deeply immersed in footballing ephemera instead. It wasn�t enough for me to simply play or even, from time to time, attend a big match. I can remember still the pinch of excitement as I opened my new packets of football stickers, sharing joy and pain with my friends, concocting shady transfer deals behind closed doors and wondering if I was ever going to see George Best again. This was but a prelude to a more sinister development, whereby I started recording the results of imaginary matches in my exercise books, complete with scorers, half times, crowds and league positions, if appropriate. Oh, I did things properly. If they�d handed out prizes for footballing obsession, I�d have hoovered up every time.

There is often a thin dividing line between passion and obsession and my son is already starting to exhibit some disturbing parallels with his father. My relationship with cars hitherto has been strictly of the A to B variety. In other words, as long as I can reach my destination safely, securely and speedily, I�m a pretty happy bunny. I am strangely unmoved by upholstery, sound systems, alloy wheels and other delights. I have never spent an afternoon washing my car. My son, however, spent an hour painstakingly polishing and sprucing his car yesterday. And as for the remote control, glad you asked, a solid ten minutes checking the electrics.

Yet it all started so innocently. An occasional reference to a car in the street was an entirely natural form of curiosity. My mumbled acknowledgement was usually enough and we went on our merry way but I felt a frisson of alarm as my son started to recognise cars he�d seen before and ask me about them too. The first time this happened I thought he was talking to someone else until he looked me in the eye with a quite disarming sincerity and repeated the question. �Dad, did you see that red Porsche, isn�t that the one from the end of the street I showed you last week? That was so cool, how fast did it go? Can we go in one?�. Well, there�s off guard and there�s on the canvas. As I groggily sought to compose myself, I nonetheless realised that my son had achieved a major landmark. He�d entered football sticker country.

No longer would my studied nonchalance suffice. My son was already in second gear while I was groping for the ignition. I could have handled simple car spotting but my son started to display a much wider repertoire, engaging in a running commentary on every journey and inviting from me, normally at a moment of maximum inconvenience, some expert analysis on the virtues of the latest BMW convertible

Frankly, I was rocking. I was all over the place when, quite serendipitously,echoing that unforgettable proverb that I�ve unfortunately forgotten, I got very lucky indeed. I was sitting in a sushi bar intermittently dabbing at a proof I was reviewing while watching a conveyor belt, with all the contours of a Scalectrix track, pass before me carrying an assortment of dishes. It all looked pretty tasty but the tastiest thing of all was the ingenious billing process. Nobody took my order so I just helped myself as, indeed, did everyone else. As I munched away, while simultaneously tiptoeing around the proof, admiring the female population, worrying about Arsenal�s recent form and staring vacantly into space � I believe it�s called multitasking � I had a sudden epiphany. Each bowl was painted with a different trim around the rim. There were pink or green or blue or whatever stripes around each and they all had a different price, reflecting their contents. At the end of the meal, you might tot up three green for �3, two red for �4 and an orange for �5. As I ruminated upon this creative thinking, a familiar face sidled up to the stool next to me. It was none other than Robert Brooks, chairman of Bonhams and a doyen of the classic car auction market. We exchanged small talk before my eye was inextricably drawn to the catalogue he had evidently intended to read over lunch.

The catalogue related to a forthcoming sale by Bonhams of classic cars and related automobilia. As we chatted away, I hinted that my son was leaning that way and the conversation dramatically moved on to an altogether higher plane. I then let slip, accidentally on purpose, that my father in law had been a racing driver of some repute in the 1950�s penile enlargement, notably for Jaguar and Allard, and that his old AC might still be lurking in the garage. Instantly, the catalogue was thrust into my hand as was an open invitation to join Bonhams at the next Festival of Speed at Goodwood. As this famous circuit is but a mile from our house in Sussex, even I may struggle to find any logistical obstacles to our future attendance, unless Arsenal obligingly have a home fixture that weekend. I suddenly felt a hot flush at the prospect of my son and I fighting off the groupies as we were ushered into the pits to mingle with the cognoscenti and talk race tactics. Then again, probably a belated reaction to those Japanese pickles.

I could tell my son was very impressed. His knowing look told me I�d found first gear. He pored over the catalogue, enthralled by the wonderful photographs, and I had to admit that there were some fabulous motors. The mechanical aspects left me stone cold but the voluptuous lines of many of the post war sports cars warmed me up considerably. Although I wouldn�t recognise a camshaft if it introduced itself to me personally, I can certainly recognise a thing of beauty when I see it. I could quite understand why so many of these models, with their gorgeous styling and lush interiors, have become design icons in their own right.

Then I took a quantum leap. I bought a copy of Classic Car. There was plenty for the obsessive, ranging from the rebuild of some obscure, but paradoxically important, car to fantastically detailed classified advertisements. The most interesting revelation for me, however, apart from my conspicuous failure to correctly identify two cars in succession, was the coverage of auction activity. I discovered that Coys were conducting a sale in ten days time but a mile or two up the road in the grounds of Chiswick House, formerly a family home of the Duke of Marlborough and now owned by English Heritage.

The sale started at 10am. I had loosely intimated to my son that we�d aim on a 9am departure but, in the manner of excitable eight year olds everywhere, he took it all too literally. As ever, morning had arrived about three hours too early for me and, when I eventually stumbled downstairs, I found him almost consumed by top enlargement products anticipation. I gathered my bits, took a bottle of water to cool his engine and we were on the road. I had a reasonable idea of the location of the house which was just as well, since the map I had printed off told me everything and nothing at the same time. It was a largely uneventful journey, punctuated only by my impatience with sleepy drivers and my son�s impatience with sleepy me. Then, lo and behold, a sign and we were there. We followed a dribble of middle aged men walking along a wide path to nowhere whereupon, looming beyond the trees, we were confronted by two enormous marquees. There were cars dotted all around and my son was so enraptured that I almost had to frogmarch him inside for the main event. I buckled under the weight of the catalogue, truly a labour of love, gathered myself and entered.

There must have been some twenty five cars in immediate view. The vintages were redolent of museum pieces and, though we prodded and probed, I can�t say we lavished them with attention. Conversely, I was intrigued by the rows of old bicycles while my son, realising you were actually encouraged to handle the goods, was caressing a silver Aston Martin as he cast his eye at all the other wonders that awaited him. I decided to register as a bidder as even the wildest optimist in me knew that it would be nigh on impossible to leave unscathed with an increasingly passionate eight year old by my side. I picked up my paddle, scanned the horizon for my son, and salvaged him from the undercarriage of an admittedly dashing Jensen.

Admiring, touching, caressing, yes, that again, we ambled into the auction itself. I wouldn�t say the joint was jumping but the sale moved pretty swiftly. I looked at the catalogue and it dawned on me that this would be an all day affair. The main event later in the afternoon would be the sale of some fifty cars and I expect the arena would then have filled out appreciably. We were participating in the undercard but it was entertaining enough simply being there. My son pottered about viewing memorabilia, cups, toys and so forth while I took the opportunity to properly read the catalogue, enjoy the banter in the room and vainly hope that I might pick up some pearl of wisdom from the assembled enthusiasts.

As one lot followed another and I resolutely clasped my paddle to my breast, I sensed my son was becoming a little agitated. There were still about 700 more items to go under the hammer but, after numerous skirmishes, including a very near miss with a replica piston pump, a cock up of Berlusconiesque proportions, I ultimately succumbed. My son was the proud owner of a 1970 odd limited edition Ferrari. I was much more fascinated by its accompanying box that not only further legitimised its authenticity, as does a dust jacket to a book, but also told me that it had been cared for by its previous owner. I liked that.

Two further lots invited particular scrutiny. The first was an exceptionally scarce game dating from the late 19th century, formed around famous cyclists of that era. It was circular and painted and possibly French but my lingering thought was that, much as I could not afford it, it should go to a good home. The other lot I could afford and I bought it with my father in mind. This was an amusing and uncommon promotional pamphlet from the late 1920�s for Alvis that adapted the style of �The Man Who�� series by H.M.Bateman. It is one of my father�s understated regrets that he sold the Alvis he owned some thirty years ago and that, when he came to reverse that decision, he discovered the car was no longer in production. It struck me as faintly ironic that the pamphlet was entitled �The Terrible Fate Which Befell The Man Who Did Not Buy An Alvis.� As we wandered back to the cashier to settle our purchases, my son insisted on sitting in virtually every car we passed. He was in his element, joy unconfined, as he twiddled with the knobs and spun the steering wheels, while luxuriating amid the resplendent wood panelling and upholstery. His joy became my joy, his beaming smile suffused with the magic of the moment. We�d come a long way together.

More prosaic matters then presented themselves, over a somewhat shorter distance, as we contrived to get lost seeking the car park. My legendary sense of direction ensured we had a very pleasant walk through the pergola but took a most circuitous route back. By this stage, I was ready to lie down, preferably in a darkened room, somewhere quiet and remote. Instead, I had to grapple with the fact that we were on the wrong side of the dual carriageway and needed to be home for the rest of the clan in the next fifteen minutes. After executing a quite masterful three point turn which surprised me, let alone my son, we were off and running. I had a nagging suspicion, however, that I might have peaked a little too early in my induction course and, boy, were my instincts hot.

A week later came another day of reckoning. Acknowledging that his recent acquisition was not equipped for a run in the park, especially minus any batteries, my son decided we should take his other model instead. It was supposed to be a quick twenty minute spin around the park, testing it for speed, durability and a few fancy tricks. It was all a bit humdrum after a while so I decided to spice things up a bit. In what I can only describe as a moment of madness, I suggested a game whereby we had to direct the car along the pavement towards the nearest lamppost within a specified time. My son made it look easy. I made it look very difficult.

It was difficult enough remembering which way the controls moved without having to contend with divots, litter, pedestrians and sundry other obstacles. Although my son generously extended my handicap, I was already 5 � 0 down by the time we were alongside the tennis courts. And it was precisely here that I delivered my coup de grace. My abject performance thus far encouraged me to at least sign off with some aplomb and so, at full speed, I charged off. I was actually making a decent fist of it for once when my concentration was shattered by a whoop of delight on Court Six. A pulsating rally was over and, distracted by the hubbub, I witnessed the car pirouette and turn sharply. As if transfixed by this remarkable manoeuvre, I watched, disbelievingly, as it rotated a full 360 degrees and trundled, almost apologetically, under the wire and straight on to the aforementioned court. I wasn�t sure if the applause was directed at the players or at me but then my sense of direction, as you may be aware, leaves much to be desired. I�ll be wearing my L plates for a while yet.



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I see it every day. Young bucks come into gym in their high school years and train and make astounding gains and begin to think about bodybuilding. Testosterone is at its peak during these years and just seems they can�t get enough of the gym or the results they are achieving. By the time the senior year rolls around, they are at their peak physically. It came so easily, it seems, that development will stay forever.

However life begins to change after high school. College starts in the fall or perhaps you start a full time job. Distractions are everywhere. Many football, baseball and wrestling jocks of high school no longer shine above their college competition and most do not continue disciplined organized sports that once brought you to the gym in the first place.

Besides not playing the sports, studies are now more time consuming. The food is all you can eat at the student review of penis enlargement products cafeteria and, well, beer parties are everywhere. This is the most fun ever, you think. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, no time was found for the gym and you are well on way to the freshman fifteen. That is the fifteen pounds of smoothing fat that you picked up during the first year on your own away from home. Bodybuilding was but a memory back home.

Spring rolls around and you are back home for the summer. But wow have you changed? Heavier, smoother and where did those muscles go? You return to the gym for the summer to get in shape. You find it is next to impossible to return the body to its former ripped state much less building up this summer.

My point here guys, bodybuilding is not for the weak willed. If you want to continue to be in shape you must plan the discipline of working out if you are going to have the better body. Bodybuilding is tough. Don�t kid yourself. If it was easy everyone would be in shape.

So what should you do? Well if you are college bound do the following:

-During campus visit check out the gym facilities. Determine if the equipment is suitable to meet your bodybuilding needs.

-Do your campus visit during the normal school year to get a feel for the people that are going. Is the gym too crowded (undersized for the campus)? What is the attitude of those training, motivational or passively active.

-How close is the gym to the living quarters? Is it convenient?

-What are the food choices at the cafeteria? Can I get the high protein foods? Is food overly processed? What are the off campus choices?

Now I am not saying that you make your college selection based solely upon the gym facilities but it should be a factor if you are serious about your training.

-Finally once you arrive at college, review your class schedule. Then clearly plan a workout time along with your study and class time. If you have to put a routine in the morning, just do it.

-Settle into a routine and stick to it.

-Don�t stay up so late. You need your rest to recover from workouts and besides late nights will cause you to want to sleep through that morning routine.

-Lay off alcohol. It�s catabolic; meaning it works to strip your muscles off. It acts on the body the opposite of steroids. It�s bad news. It will take you places you don�t want to go, keep you longer than you want to stay and cost you more than you can imagine.

-Eat right. Do I need to say more?

-Read penis enlargement products a bodybuilding magazine periodically to keep your focus.

-Hang out with those that are in the gym. They are a better influence in keeping you disciplined.

Okay there you have it. Stay with your training and your freshman fifteen will be MUSCLE not flab!




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