Apparently, the Hadji Market's official name is "Blackhawk Trading Post." Or maybe that is the name of a market that preceded the Hadji. I don't really know.

All you have to do is flip on the TV or pick up a newspaper to know that Iraq is in a serious state of unrest. Things were really bad after the mosque bombing in Samarra, and yesterday was especially saddening for our Iraqi advisors whose family and friends live out in the "ville", but today things seemed to be going better in Iraq.

My guess is that some of you are wondering how all of this is affecting us here. Well, honestly, we can't detect any differences just by walking around, other than maybe more booms (booms are normal for us, and we tend to ignore them) and what is a real or imaginary increase in low-flying helicopters (also not out of the ordinary). We are quite isolated here, really, so my point is that nobody should worry about those of us inside the wire here. I don't want to trivialize things, since there's nothing trivial about the situation in Iraq, but since I am restricted from talking about anything of substance...

There are subtle little differences that I can notice, but nothing huge. Probably the biggest and most obvious difference is that the Hadji market, the bizarre, and the "Barn" are closed because of the curfews, and we can't get newspaper deliveries and the like. We were heading to the Hadji mart yesterday when we were told most of the vendors couldn't make it in.

Anyway, that's all I have to say about that. Things are fine here. The boss is out for another week, and Jd returns very soon. And I just realized we've been here four months. We're about halfway through our contract here. Huh. Cool. I guess we should start thinking about a half-way party.

Mother Earth and me, kickin' back in Italy. I was inspired by Specialist Crystal Dahl (IT/IO guru) to post a goofy picture. Click on her blog to the right here. It's hilarious. She might be the only chick I know who is as weird as I am.

LISTEN! DON'T GIVE ME ANY CRAP ABOUT NOT UPDATING MY BLOG! haha.

I have been busy. My team and I worked until 1:30 in the morning last night, and it's a late night tonight, too. The purpose of this blog is just to let you know I haven't forgotten about you. I haven't taken any new pictures, though, either. SO...I dug one out of the reserves. I'll get hoppin' on some photos and bloggies soon. I promise. All is well here. Having fun. I have a really killer team. Jd is returning from leave in a few days, so we're all happy about that. We're gonna "good game" him for sure.

Just a blurrrrr. Maureen zips around Lost Lake in her new "skinny clothes."

My dear friend Maureen amazes me.

This New Englander with the wicked-thick crazy accent decided Day One that she was going to use her Iraq time to get in shape. Always a goddess, she just wanted to drop some pounds and feel healthier. With a massive commute, two active kids, and a wicked-good-cook of a husband at home, she just didn't have the time at home in Mass. to dedicate to fitness...we all know how that is. (By the way, her incredible husband is Dave, and she met him on Match.com...the same place where I met my darling Dave. And my girlfriend, Lori, met her "Dave", whose actual name is Joe, on Match, too. So...I recommend giving it a shot. I can slip you some pointers on how to weed out the whackos. haha)

But I digress.

Anyway, Maureen started walking every evening while the rest of her team went to chow, and the weight just started melting off. She has been absolutely religious about her daily walks. A few weeks ago, I decided to join her, and she was talking about how she might start jogging, and suddenly we were trotting around the back side of Lost Lake. That night, she ran a whole mile.

She continued through the soreness, and she is now up to more than two miles of jogging at a moderate clip. Last night, I brought my camera, and I don't know if she was showing off, or what, but that crazy beeyotch broke into a furious sprint at the end of our two-mile route that about blew me away.

You see, as we approach the end of each run, I usually switch things up and pick a new ending point. The finish line is always a "not before" point, meaning she is allowed to run beyond the finish, but she's not allowed to stop before it. If she wants to run further, she is allowed to, in other words. Well, last night, she was like, "OK, Goddess of Pain, where's the finish?" I answered with "The wall or beyond." The wall is what marks the entrance/exit from/to Lost Lake. So, she cursed me under her breath before breaking into a full-bore, 150 yd dash to the wall. It was at that point that I realized, in a very in-your-face way, that Maureen was a sprinter in high school.

Each day, I get to look forward to new feats of athleticism from my friend Maureen, Goddess of Speed and Agility. I have to admit, I am loving it.

Ann Coulter Kicks butt! I probably shouldn't be expressing my political views here, because that's not the purpose of this blog, really, and I don't want to get into a bunch of political discussions, but oh well.

Anyway, I went to Amazon.com the other day and ordered a couple of Ann's books. She's entertaining as hell, and she also happens to have a knack for putting the thoughts that are in my head into very eloquently spoken or written words. While I was on Amazon purchasing "High Crimes and Misdemeanors," "How to Talk to a Liberal," "Slander," and "Treason," I discovered the documentary, "Is it True What They Say About Ann Coulter?" So I bought it.

I just watched the 40-min film, and I laughed out loud through most of it. She's brilliantly hilarious. I just really appreciate how she is completely unafraid to say, in a VERY public forum, what most of us (OK, well, I don't know what you're thinking, so I should just speak for myself) are thinking. To hell with political correctness! She speaks her convictions, and I just love that about her. It helps, too, that I pretty much always agree with her. It's a fun documentary, and I highly recommended it, although I wish it were longer.

God bless you, Ann. If you're ever in Iraq, some of my friends and I would love to treat you to dinner.

Here's an example of some classic Ann Coulter that New Guy showed me today:





MUSLIM BITES DOG
February 15, 2006

The amazing part of the great Danish cartoon caper isn't that Muslims immediately engage in acts of mob violence when things don't go their way. That is de rigueur for the Religion of Peace. Their immediate response to all bad news is mass violence. That's a "dog bites man" story and belongs on page B-34, next to the grade school hot lunch menu and the birth notices.

After an Egyptian ferry capsized recently, killing hundreds of passengers, a whole braying mob of passengers' relatives staged an organized attack on the company, throwing furniture out the window and burning the building to the ground. Witnesses say it was the most violent ocean liner-related incident since Carnival Cruise Lines fired Kathie Lee Gifford.

The "offense to Islam" ruse is merely an excuse for Muslims to revert to their default mode: rioting and setting things on fire. These people have a serious anger management problem.

So it's not exactly a scoop that Muslims are engaging in violence. A front-page story would be "Offended Muslims Remain Calm."

What is stunning about this spectacle is that their violence is working. With a few exceptions, the media won't show the cartoons that incited mass violence around the globe (cartoons available at www.anncoulter.com). And yet, week after week, American patriots endure "The Boondocks" without complaint. Where's the justice here?

Perhaps we could put aside our national, ongoing, post-9/11 Muslim butt-kissing contest and get on with the business at hand: Bombing Syria back to the stone age and then permanently disarming Iran.

The mass violence by Muslims over some cartoons reminds us why we have to worry when countries like Iran start talking about having nukes. Iran is led by a lunatic who makes a big point of denying the Holocaust. Indeed, in response to the Muhammad cartoons, one Iranian newspaper is soliciting cartoons about the Holocaust. (So far the only submissions have come from Ted Rall, Garry Trudeau and The New York Times.)

Iran is certainly implying that it has nukes. Maybe they do, maybe they don't, but you can't take chances with berserk psychotics. What if they start having one of these bipolar episodes with a nuclear bomb?

If you don't want to get shot by the police, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, then don't point a toy gun at them. Or, as I believe our motto should be after 9/11: Jihad monkey talks tough; jihad monkey takes the consequences. Sorry, I realize that's offensive. How about "camel jockey"? What? Now what'd I say? Boy, you tent merchants sure are touchy. Grow up, would you?

In addition, I believe we are legally required to be bombing Syria right now. And unlike the Quran's alleged prohibition on depictions of Muhammad, I've got documentation to back that up!

Muslims in Syria torched the Danish Embassy a few weeks ago, burning it to the ground. According to everyone, the Syrian government was behind the attack — the prime minister of Denmark, Condoleezza Rice and White House spokesman Scott McClellan. I think even the gals on "The View" have acknowledged that Damascus was behind this one.

McClellan said: "We will hold Syria responsible for such violent demonstrations since they do not take place in that country without government knowledge and support."

We are signatories to a treaty that requires us to do more than "hold Syria responsible" for this attack. Syria has staged a state-sponsored attack on our NATO partner on Danish soil, the Danish embassy. According to the terms of the NATO treaty, the United States and most of Europe have an obligation to go to war with Syria.

Or is NATO — like the conventions of civilized behavior, personal hygiene and grooming — inapplicable when Muslims are involved? Liberals complain about "unilateral action," but under the terms of a treaty created by Dean Acheson and the Democrats, France, Germany, Spain and Greece are all obliged to go to war with us against Syria. Why, it's almost like a coalition! OK, Mr. Commie: Saddle up!

COPYRIGHT 2006 ANN COULTER

DISTRIBUTED BY UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE
4520 Main Street, Kansas City, MO 64111

Cpl Aflac and his lady friends (or vice versa; perhaps he is the she).

I know you are getting sick of my goose stories. Well, too bad, because I haven't tons of fun stuff to talk about.

As I was leaving the palace tonight to go run with Maureen (note: I will be blogging about my Maureen runs tomorrow, so stay tuned!), I noticed that Cpl Aflac von Wacky Quackers had invited three lady friends over to hang out with him. They were all sort of lying in the road looking a bit nervous when I approached, that is, all except for the indifferent young Cpl himself. He was pretending to sleep while shooting me the old stank eye on occassion. (Oddly enough, he has the most beautiful blue eyes.) He really doesn't like me very much. So, anyway, I took a ton of pictures of the geese, and now you must suffer through another goose blog. So there!

Cpl Afflac leads watch inspections in front of the palace gates.

I am wearing a wonderful cashmere sweater that my darling Grandma gave me for Christmas. Nice, huh? Love the green. I'm also listening to the cute little iPod Nano that Dave gave me for Christmas. I love it. Thanks, Grandma and Dave!

I don't have anything terribly interesting to spout about. I had a major headache yesterday, and that was no fun, but things are ok besides that. Oh, and I couldn't sleep last night at all. Suck!

Anyway, I was telling my friend Nanda about a Land Rover I saw here once, and it gave me an idea for a Land Rover tribute blog. Hope you don't get too bored with it. I have Land Rover envy, and I am dying for a Defender 110.

Randy Lover is my second favorite Land Rover here at Camp Victory. My very favorite is "Ghost", a white Defender 110...my dream car.

A completely naked Defender 110. I don't know how this American soldier got his hands on one. I am jealous.

This is the first Landy I saw when I arrived in Iraq. It was at Baghdad airport's military side. I couldn't (and still can't) believe they have Range Rovers here. Those lucky Brits...Their Commanding General gets to drive around in one.

A dusty 110 at Baghdad airport.

British Army Defenders.

A Range Rover appropriately parked in front of the palace.

Randy Lover in the palace parking lot.

Do you SEE how I sacrifice for you, my loyal readers? I haven't any good photos, but I have gone ahead and posted this crappy one just so you have something to look at besides white words on a black screen.

WOW!

I am in big trouble...

...because I haven't blogged in 5 days! I apologize unreservedly. Please forgive me my lapse. I have loads of brilliant excuses. I submit this one for your scrutiny:

Boss lady left last week, leaving little ole me at the helm. Well, the good news is that I feel I have purpose in life and am really enjoying the thrill and challenge of leading my team here in Baghdad. (I use "leading" loosley, since my team is so incredibly awesome that they HARDLY require leadership!) Each day just flies by, and I barely even noticed this week float past. If I stay this busy, I'll be home in the blink of an eye.

The bad news is, I am busy enough that I cannot muster enough motivation at the end of a long and busy day to actually sit down and blog for just a few minutes about my day. I am the epitome of lazy. On top of that, I rarely remember to bring my camera with me to take snapshots of interesting items here, so I don't have any new photos.

Today and yesterday, I have been busy doing what English majors like me fear the most in this world: MATH. I have been doing budget stuff, crunching numbers like an inept bean counter with my hair on fire. It just ain't right. I mean it. English majors should never be allowed to meddle with numbers to this extreme. I must say, though, that I am proud of the higher-math-trinomial-quadratic-multiplifcation I have been able to muster to get myself through this ordeal. Actually, I was called away, after getting through the first two paragraphs of this blog, to provide newer, interesting, better numbers for the umpteenth rendition of a budget slide I thought I had handed to our client for the last time earlier today. Because I have finally learned my lesson, I am no longer foolish enough to think that is the last time I will be required to tweak that slide. But that is why they pay me the big bucks, so I am not complaining; I am merely relating a tale from my weird life here in Baghdad. The really good stuff is entirely classified, so I won't tell you about it...since I don't want to have to kill you... You will have to just trust that I get to do things that are more fun than budget manipulation. Anyway, it is all fun once it is finished.

Um...wow. I have bored myself into a corner. I am at a standstill and haven't the fortitude to write on any further. I do promise to post again very soon...maybe even tonight...if I'm not too busy watching my new TV passion, Six Feet Under, or chatting with Dave. So there.

Every time I try to feed the goose, I get snubbed. Here is a rare shot of him actually accepting my offering. I tried to give him SARDINES today, and he turned me down. Apparently, he enjoys corn. I was snubbed for, like, the 5th time in row; and to think I was going to take up a collection to buy the goose a bubble with a respirator inside to protect him from the bird flu that is fast approaching this area! Have fun fending for yourself, Corporal Aflac von Whacky Quackers!

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody! Because of Dave, this is my best Valentine's Day ever! This picture is a self portrait of myself with a few of the gifts I received from him today, including festive socks, an Under Armour shirt, a fuzzy bag of candy hearts, and a framed photo of our snowboarding trip to Germany. Thank you, Sweetie!

We haven't really done anything special for this Hallmark holiday here in Iraq, as a team, but we did share some candy hearts and some Valentines. The chow hall had a cake, too, but I didn't try any. Dan said he's going to "buy" us dinner at the chow hall, so that's something to look forward to. Haha.

Anywho, I hope ya'll have a very nice day.

Peace out, homies.

Here I am. Kristy just took this pic for me so I could post it for you.

Howdy, ya'll. My apologies for not posting. I've been somewhat busy. My boss is going on leave tomorrow, so that means I get to be in charge. Cooool. Heh heh. Um, so, like, I had a conference to attend today, and yesterday I was just too lazy to post a blog. I'm angry with the internet at the tents, because, as usual, it isn't working, so I have boycotted internet-related activities outside of Googling and email. For now.

Anywho, I am about to go join some fellow Camp Victory inmates for a hash run (google it if you are lost), so this will be short. I want to see if I can get online for a moment to chat with Dave, who is currently driving across the country to San Diego. Maybe I'll get lucky and have the internet work for me!

I just wanted to say hi to Mom, Dave, Eric, Stacey, and my friends. Here's a picture, since I haven't smiled for the camera lately.

Cheers, queers.

Oh, and click on Maureen's Blog to the right here. She has a funny account of yesterday's lake run...

Old New Guy (Dan) and me the other day.

Ohmigosh. Cutest thing I've ever seen. I MUST HAVE HER.

Lately, I have become obsessed with the idea of having a pet. My tent is just down the way from a block of tents belonging to the Army's dog handlers, so I often see soldiers out walking their canine corporals, or whatever rank the Army pooches are assigned. I have to admit it fills me with longing for my own dog, or any kind of pet for that matter. Nobody is allowed to adopt pets here, of course, for health reasons, though I know that probably doesn't stop most enterprising young soldiers and Marines from trying.

The other morning, as I wistfully watched a handler and his partner stroll down the sidewalk, I began to fantasize about pet possibilities. I recently told you about a guard goose (buta in Arabic) that has made his home in front of the palace. Well, he is still hanging out there, and I talk to him every time I pass on my way in or out during the day. I have started to fantasize about building him a little goose house and relocating him to my tent area so he can be my little pet. I don't think he likes the weather and his lack of protection from the elements. If I built him a house and provided him with a sardine bribe, perhaps he would be willing to be my personal guard goose. I should probably think about it some more...

Other pets I have considered are fish (but then I would have a bowl to clean, and every fish I've ever owned has croaked, and where in the heck would I buy a small fish around here, anyway?), and mice (very hard to catch). I think I'll just have to suck it up until I return home from Iraq and get a place to live out in California.

Recently, I have become obsessed with the idea of getting a Labradoodle, or a cross between a Labrador retriever and a standard poodle. I grew up with labs, and I think they are awesome, but I don't love the idea of having to deal with their incessant shedding. Labradoodles, because they are at least half poodle, do not necessarily shed as much. Anyway, even if they do shed, they are so smart and trainable and loveable that I can hardly stand not having one to cuddle right this instant!

And that is your up-to-date account of my most recent obsession.

OK. Seriously. How CUTE are THEY!?

OK, folks...It's confession time. (Deep breath in...and out...) Here goes nothing: I am totally addicted to "The Simple Life" television series starring Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie. I KNOW! I am crazy to watch such crap on tv, and I am even crazier to ADMIT TO IT!

For those intelligent, witty, normal, good people out there who have no clue what "The Simple Life" is, and for the REALLY good people who don't know who Paris and Nicole are, I will explain very briefly. This tv show features the heiress to the Hilton fortune ($380 million, or billion, or zillion...whatever...) and rich-ass Lionel Ritchie's daughter, in a show that follows two spoiled-rotten princesses through their weak attempts to actually work for a living in the "real world." I guess they filmed four seasons of the show before calling it quits after the demise of the girls' friendship.

I was out of the country or something when the shows originally aired, but I got really lucky during my last visit to the Hadji Market at Camp Slayer. The Hadji market allows Iraqi vendors to come aboard the base and sell their wares. In this case, "wares" basically refers to bootleg DVDs, a tiny selection of bootleg Nike gear, sheisha (hooka) pipes, cigars, and various other bits of junk. Camp Slayer is attached to Victory, and this was my first time visiting its version of Victory's bazaar. I've been to the bazaar often enough to have made a couple of friends who like to spoil me with gifts of baklava and roses. I had heard that Slayer's Hadji market had good, cheap boxed sets of television series, so I was stoked to visit.

I picked up a set of all the Six Feet Under episodes ever aired on HBO, every season of King of the Hill, and a few movies (I hope the quality of these is better than the one I just watched, in which you can see people's heads move across the screen as they are getting up and leaving the movie theater during the movie). I also grabbed some knock-off software (Front Page), and as I was checking out, I spied "The Simple Life, Entire Four Season." It was a thin little box, so I thought "entire four season" meant entire FOURTH season, but it turns out they meant "entire four SEASONS." After the first few episodes of the first season, though, I realized they were using the word "entire" very loosely. I'm pretty sure a few episodes are missing, as are parts of the episodes that are not missing, because things didn't exactly flow well from episode to episode. But who cares!? I was laughing my butt off, and, anyway, who minds the occasional "Stay tuned for American Idol, next on Fox," or, "Next on the evening news" bits during the show? These shows are recorded off of regular tv, so they feel pretty authentic. Heh heh.

I am totally depressed now, though, because I am nearly finished with the final season. Every night, I lie on my back in my cot with my laptop on my chest, earphones in place, laughing my butt off like a pre-teen. For whatever reason, these twits amuse the heck out of me. And I love their tiny little rat dogs, Tinkerbell, Honeychild, and Foxy Cleopatra.

I cannot wait to get back to the tent to throw in that final DVD and get to watchin'. I hope you all forgive me for this little vice of mine.

What is this a picture of? Read on to find out. I've been exploring the palace...

Remember several blogs ago when I detailed the excruciating process I had to go through to lay the coaxial cable down the passageway and out the window to the satellite dish on the palace roof? Well, it turns out that dish doesn't capture all the local channels we need, so we have to get a second dish. That bit of news really had me down in the dumps for a while, because I SOOOO didn't want to have to run a second cable down the passageway.

Well, I was resigned to have to do that today, and I got the key to the secret door that has access to the roof. Kristy and I went up with the cable to drop it down to the window, and on our way back, I decided to do a little exploring. As we were exiting the secret doorway, Kristy saw a ladder leading up through a tiny hatch in the ceiling. I poked my head up there and could hear New Guy talking to Babs. COOL! We had discovered the entrance to the crawl space above our office! Maybe we could drop the cable down through there!

I got the cable all strewn our between the roof and the ladder well, but it didn't quite leave us with enough to reach through to the office. I spent 15 minutes taking up some slack in the line, and there still wasn't enough cable. It was in a moment of desperation that I discovered yet another secret door leading to a dirty little crawl space with a light at the end of it. Hmmm. A light! It must lead outside!

Sure enough, there was a hole knocked in the wall, and through that hole I could see the roof and a bit of scaffolding. I pushed a brick through to mark the spot, and Kristy and I ventured back out to the roof to see if we could find the hole. Voila! Success! I had to gather up the 91 yards of cable, roll it up, and poke it through the hole in the crawlspace while Kristy waited to receive it on the roof. We got it through, left some slack on the roof where the satellite will go, and threaded the long end down the ladderwell to the third deck, up through the roof hatch, and down through the grate in ceiling above our tv. By the time I was finally finished, I had sweat soaking through my shirt and trousers. (Eeeew!)

Considering the enormous obstacles I had to surmount to accomplish this task, it's amazing I didn't get injured... Actually, at the very end, I was trying to tie the cable to a wire in the office to make it a little bit neater when I was "shocked" to find out that the wire was live. A bolt of electricity went in through my left ring finger and gave me quite a start. I'm just glad I was able to let go before it really got me good. I had a tingly sensation in that finger for about half an hour afterward. But, HEY! Mission accomplished! Now all I have to do is have the sat. tv guy install the dish and the box, and we'll be in business! Flippin' sweet if you ask me!

It has been storming like Hurricane Katrina here for two days and nights, and the result now is tons of standing water. New lakes have popped up everywhere!

The storms started Thursday night, just when everything was almost dried up from the last rains. But this storm was different. It put out enormous amounts of continuous rain, and its accompanying winds were strong enough to rip tents apart and nearly blow over the unfortunate souls who had to venture out in it.

The winds were strong enough to blow over a Hesko barrier (you know, those barriers that are put up around tents and buildings to protect them from gunfire and bombs) at the end of our tent, causing it to slam into our wall and hide Maureen's shoes. It was so loud inside from the flapping tent and from things getting knocked over inside by the flapping walls that sleep was difficult for two nights.

Most of the velcro walls are now ripped apart, and it will take half of my day off today to repair them. We're lucky, though, because a tent next to ours is actually flooded. We have taken on a few pints of water on the floor, but nothing too damaging. Swarms of workers were running around in the wind and rain last night trying to pump water out of the area around the flooded tent and hammering tent stakes back into the ground throughout the compound. I keep thinking back to that time last month when I saw a tent on its side in the chowhall parking lot...

If you check out the 10-day forecast on the weather bar to the right of my blog, you'll see that more showers are expected for much of next week. I sure wish I'd stocked up on a surplus of rubber boots. Gold, I tell ya, gold.

Holes in the sides of the tent..

My buddy Steve. Our chance encounter in Iraq indicates that there probably aren't 6 billion people in the world. No way. Anyway, that's his theory, and he's sticking to it.

To fully appreciate this story, I have to take you back to February of LAST year. I was with my Drive Around the World team, and we were just days from the finish of a 16-month drive all the way around the world, longitudinally. (If you click here, you can read journals from when we were in Sacramento.) The expedition halted in California's state capitol Feb 25th, 2005, so we could see about getting Gov. Schwarzenneger to endorse our expedition. We knew people who had worked on the governor's campaign, and we wanted to see about meeting the Terminator himself.

We drove around the city for a while, circling the block to find parking and to create a stir with the local news. While halted downtown, the campaign manager's son, Steve, bumped into us on his way to Kinko's. He invited us up to his office to hang out with his dad, George, and to hang out for a bit. Long story short, we ended up going out for sushi and beers with them and having a jolly good time. In May of that year, the team got to meet Gov. Schwarzenegger and have a photo op with him. (I couldn't make it, because I was already working on the East Coast in May.)

Fast forward a year and about three weeks, and I am working in a cubicle a scant 20 feet from the very same Steve who bumped into my expedition team in Sacramento, Calif. First NoCal, and then Baghdad. The world, indeed, is a very small place. I cannot BELIEVE that I am working a few feet away from the guy I met in Sacramento. SO weird. Weird, but cool.

Camp Victory has never seen so much color!

Today our other team had their half-way party. Theirs is a 6-month project, and they now have three months to go. That means my team is 1/3 of the way through. They pulled out the BBQ grill and hula gear, and the four sorority sisters from Tent 27 decided to have a photo together. I'm standing on a step, so I look like an amazon next to my friends! Anyway...CONGRATULATIONS, Team One!!!

I'll post more pictures tomorrow! (I'm on a slow internet...)

My teammate, Sabah.

Former Squid from Team I: Brian.

Members of Team I: John and Ed.

Maureen lookin' cute.

Maureen lookin' spicy. (To incorrectly quote Kristy: "Don't accept any wooden nipples.")

New guy's new look.

Paul from Team I.

Pat, a.k.a. "Stone Cold", from Team I.

Team I: Ed, Todd (a.k.a. Rowdy), Shannon, Maureen, Pauline, Brian, Paul. Front: John, Stone Cold.