Happy VSA

From:	hot	(Fri Nov 18 11:29:46 2005)
Sherpa John is the Biggest Douche in the Universe The Truth About Team Sherpa John is a a douche with your money Team Sherpa is not a non-profit. Team Sherpa is barely a fundraising organization. In fact, only $5000 of the over $11,500 raised by Team Sherpa has actually been donated to the ADA. The Portsmouth Herald goes easy on him, mostly because he still has the backing of the ADA. And my guess is that he only has the backing of the ADA because he sucks Michael Curren's cock (but that is just a guess). Its a good thing you are a douche, Sherpa John, because your mouth is foul. FOUL I SAY! Story Despite all his training, John is still slower than a douche John trains and trains and trains... about the only thing that John does more than train is TALK about training. Despite all his hiking and running, he finished 462nd out of 544 in a marathon race this year. His time was a pathetic 4:33:06. An actual douche finished 397th. Results John also finished 54th out of 100 people in a 10K race. Way to see all that training pay off: More Douchy Results Legally Speaking, John is a Douche John is being sued by the State of New Hampshire because he is such a douche. Click here and search for John "Douche" Lacroix... but leave out the douche part. Actually, this might be the John Lacroix in Rochester that is being charger with kiddie porn. But same difference. Possible Reasons Why Sherpa John is Such A Giagantic Douche (a true story as told by Sherpa John): I went to Jewett St. School in Manchester, NH for elementary School Grades K-6. At the age of 4 I had my 4 front teeth removed cause of Milk rot. My mom had put me to bed one night with the bottle in my mouth. So for most of my child years I was the kid with no teeth. And as soon as the teeth grew back in.. I needed to get glasses. Needless to say, I wasn;t the most stunning child and easily pulled off a Steve Urkel for Halloween without much in the way of effort. I all of my years of schooling in Manchester I missed only 2 days. One day in 5th Grade and one in 6th.. I went to West Point with the Boy Scouts instead of class on a Friday. I used to get beat up on the playground and while most children had their "clique" I never found one. I was the outcast, often playing alone and the bunt of numerous jokes. Our house was all of a block from the school. Every night when I went to bed, I could see it from the bed room window. Yet.. everyday after achool.. I ran home as fast as I could to avoid the High School kids. To them.. catching me (if they could) and beating me up was a game. It would be years later that I would find out that they actually had a scoring system. I got good at running. I knew all the short cuts, usually trying to make it to the front porch and locking the door as the bully was right outside. One afternoon, a few of them skipped out of class early and beat me home. When I locked the porch door.. I turned around and there they were. After that.. I would leave basement windows open and fall into the basement.. whatever it took to make it home without being beat. I used to play with my best and only friend Brian Crockett. He lived a few blocks over.. no clue why we stopped talking as kids. Probabl because like most parents of the kids in the neighborhood, I was the kid you weren't allowed to play with. Kevin Piotrowski (now a pro soccer player) lived behind us and Derek Bell (now in jail) lived across the street from him. I really wanted to be friends with them. One day Derek broke Kevins hockey stick and they needed duct tape to repair it. The only duct tape I knew of was in the Gustafsons house. So.. The boys told me to break in and get the tape or they would beat me up. So I did.. broke in.. got the tape.. and stole some freshly baked brownies while I was there. Man did I get in SO much trouble after they rated me out. But from this point on.. I became the kid they pointed to when someone got hurt or something broke or went wrong. Thankfully.. over time.. they all moved and I was in the neighborhood alone. Buddy and Adam Browning moved into an apartment house down the way and Dan and Chris Watts up the road. They were all unique kids. Buddy browning and I always wanted to be pro wrestlers. I would find out years later that he actually is now.. and I had gone to school to find out it wasn't for me. But all of us kids in the neighborhood met at Brownings house to play games. we either played Peter Pan (buddy was peter and I Captain hook), X-men.. I was always Storm.. the african woman who controlled the weather. or Army.. I insisted on being a general and lead my army of neighborhood kids against the other neighborhood army. Army was my fondest of memories because it was almost real life. We dug trenches, we dug fox holes and hid in them. We dug holes and filled them with rusted nails, barbed wire, broken glass and anything else sharp.. then covered the holes with small sticks, downs leaves and then covered it and dirt.. hopigng someone would fall in. I'll never forget the old bat.. er ah.. woman.. who displayed to us what Locked Jaw looked like. Laughing But as the years went on I began to grow from my friends as events surounding my family life quickly began to deteriorate. The kids thought I was ignoring them.. I quickly became the kid the fingers pointed at again and their parents also decided no one was to hang out with me. One day as my step brother scott and I walked home from the Baseball Card store.. (I just bought some new Drew Bledsoe Rookie Cards) we noticed a kid named Efram. Efram was walking with Danny Boudreau an they were serious bullys. I kept my head down and avoided eye contact.. until Efram yelled, "Hey what are you looking at?!".. I replied with "S**T!" Thats when Efram pulled out a small gun and aimed it at me. I ran home.. again.. this time.. faster than ever before. I remember talking to mom that night about moving. The house had been for sale forever following my parents divorce.. honestly, mom was stalling. But she agreed to just sell it and get us out of Manchester.. though to this day I never told her why I had had enough. When the neighborhood kids heard the house had finally sold and we needed to be out.. they began to gather. The old games of Army turned into a real game of war... The kids in Junior High (Grades 7 and 8 ), whom I had hung out with.. made fun of me daily at lunch. I was "herpe boy," as every fall I get a sizable cold sore in the corner of my mouth. Eventually I began sitting alone as the days of that school year winded down. My grades had fallen to C's, D's, and F's.. from Honor Roll. I ended up having to go to Summer School so I could even make it to High School next year. The last 2 weeks of that final Summer living in Manchester.. the Neighborhood kids sat outside the house holding sticks, hockey sticks and I remember Danny Watts holding a chain. Every day I sat inside, never daring to go outside to the lynch mob that had awaited. Until THE FINAL day.. That day there was a nock on the door. I answered it and it was Buddy Browning.. once the door openned a crack.. he pushed it in and the kids forced their way in. They beat me up in my own kitchen.. the last straw being when buddy threw an old roller skate at my head and hitting me in the face. My mom came home and found me lying on the floor. black eye and blood coming from my mouth. I packed my final bags that day.. and moved out of town. I packed my bags and would carry the luggage of years past with me for many years. When I moved from Manchester that Day.. I left not only my childhood friendships behind, I left the bully's and the fear of walking home.. but I left a much deeper family history that deteriorated as well.... The Douchiest Halloweest Story Ever Written (a Sherpa John Douche by John Lacroix): I have written a story to share with you all in honor of Halloween. I will say before hand that it does have deep spiritual depth, so if your not much for the Catholic Church or its beliefs... then you may not wish to read. I say this because.. well... I'll leave it up to you to decide if it's true or not... As a young boy his family knew he was special the day he scared his grandfather. The family always traveled out to Pennsylvania and Ohio quite often. But as the young boy walked hand in hand towards the church in the tiny town of Hawk Run, PA.. he pointed at a nun and told his Grandfather, “See that Nun, her name is sister Anne.” The grandfather laughed, as there was NO way this 5-year-old boy could have known the name of a nun whom lived some 300 miles from home. “How do you know that?” inquired the grandfather. “Because she took care of me in heaven before I was born,” replied the boy as the grandfather remained skeptical. The grandfather walked with the boy over to the nun and asked, “Excuse me, but are you sister Anne?” She smiled and replied.. “Why yes I am, do I know you?” The grandfather was puzzled and hadn’t a clue as to believe his grandson or not. But this was only just the beginning of many unexplainable events. As a young teenager the boys life had a major turn around as his parents were sinking deeper into divorce. He was a scared young man, living alone with mom as his brothers and sisters had just left home to create families of their own. The boy had kept a dark secret from everyone for years and years. On Sunday’s he would go to church and sit quietly in the pews, Quietly because he was scared of the voices, the voices that would speak to him from above. Every Sunday he would gaze at the windows in the church, listening intently as they, and various statues began to animate and speak to him. The first night the boy ever spent in his fathers new apartment, he lay awake for hours on end with a nervous feeling in his gut. He felt like someone was watching him. He tried his hardest to close his eyes and sleep but to no avail.. and then.. there he was. The young boy witnessed what seemed to be a miracle. The Lord Jesus Christ appeared on the ceiling as a dark shadowy image. The boy gasped with fear, closed his eyes and went to bed. As the next few months progressed the images of Jesus appeared more frequent and at times as he was simply watching TV alone in his bedroom. He continued to tell no one for fear of being though of as crazy but began to dread going to bed every night. One night he visited his grandfather’s house as he did everything and the young boy had an ill feeling in his stomach. He turned to the Weather Channel and observed an unusual sight on the Radar. Three very strong thunderstorm cells were marching from west to east towards the town he lived in. The boy felt chills run up his spine and he asked his grandfather to take him home. When he got home he asked his mom to play a game with him. She got out scrabble and they sat at the kitchen table awaiting the storms to arrive. As the storms got closer the sky turned light green in the night sky and the lights began to flicker in the house. It got louder and louder as the thunder rolled in until a bright flash and huge crack of thunder sent the young boy running. He begged his bother to follow him to the basement with candles. Upon reaching the basement stairs, his mother lit candles and they huddled under blankets. The boy began to shake as he called for his pets to gather in the basement as well. As the storms rolled in the boy became more nervous and frightened. The storm finally made it to the town and it raged outside. The more it raged on the angrier the young boy got. There was no explanation for his anger.. and he became confused with this onset. As they sat in the basement, lightning struck the house and the TV out on the porch was blown out. A second lightning strike hit the antenna on the roof and the young boy stood up and stormed down further into the basement. He then walked to the far side of the basement for no apparent reason. Upon reaching the far side he stood and peered at the wall. On the wall was a foil art picture of Jesus.. the boy began screamed at the top of his lungs “WHY ME?! WHAT DID I DO!? STOP IT STOP IT! I HATE YOU!” And as soon as it had started.. the storm stopped and passed on. The boy cried in the place he had begun to shout, scared because he knew nothing of the sign on the wall. He had never seen it before, but for one reason or another.. began to yell at it. The young boys mother became concerned about the boys health and sought out a counselor. At the counseling session the young boy told the doctor about all that had gone on. Various tests were done and nothing was found to be wrong with the boy. The mother was still worried and contacted the Catholic Church. The church contacted a man in Canada who traveled the country investigating spiritually abnormal activities. Such things as the stigmata, and those who see apparitions or talk to god. His mother took the young boy to a “meeting” one evening. The young boy knew nothing of the meeting.. Until he got to the Church. In the rectory of the State’s largest Cathedral, the young boy stepped inside and took a seat on the couch. The parish’s 3 priests and the entire nun’s were present. The bishop was also in attendance including the young boys mother, grandmother and grandmothers friend Peggy. The man from Canada entered the room with his son and everyone held hands in prayer. First was Peggy, struggling with her recovery from stroke, the man from Canada led prayer for her health. The man than spoke with the boy’s grandmother whose sister was very ill from leukemia. He explained it was her sister’s time to move on and join the kingdom of heaven. The grandmother began to cry as she accepted this fate. 2 Days later her sister would pass. Then it was the boy’s turn. The man had the boy stand in the center of the room as he explained he would be placed under a holy hypnosis. “Don not worry young man, rest well and fall into my sons arms. He will catch you as you fall to the kingdom of god.” The young boy was scared but trusted the man. He closed his eyes as holy water was sprinkled around him, a prayer in Latin was said and the young boy went to fall back into the sons arms.. Thing is.. there was no fall. The young boy began to slowly drift backwards as if to hover over the ground and lightly fell to the ground on his own. The room watched in amazement as he power of the lord was indeed present. As the young boy lay there he saw a bright light through his eyes. He spoke to Jesus as he had done so for many nights, for many months leading to this day. The lord showed him pictures of war, famine and disease. The boy cried from the sadness of the world to come and then the lord made him smile. As the boy awoke from his slumber, he noticed everyone in the room standing over him. They were all crying and saying the lords prayer. The man from Canada stood him up and embraced him with a hug. He then began to cry himself before turning the boy to the people in the room and explained, “ What this boy says is true. He has spoken to the angels, has been graced by the word of God and has seen the lord himself.” The man then explained to the boy that that next time he saw the heavenly father, to ask him to see his mother appear and if she does, reach out and touch her hands and he too will have the power of the kingdom of god. The boy more frightened then even, left the church that night and would not sleep for days. But word of what transpired that night would be kept secret and only discussed by those who witnessed the miracle of god. A few months would pass before anything new would happen. One night as the boy readied himself for bed, a ghostly apparition would appear at the foot of his bed. It was the lord and as he was told.. he asked to see the holy mother. The lord disappeared and the Virgin Mary then appeared at the foot of the bed.. The boy sat up, leaned forward and touched her hands. A strange feeling came over him and the boy began to cry.. as he looked ahead he got scared and yelled, “Leave me alone! Your scaring me.. I never want to see you again until I am 21 years old!” And the vision was gone. It would be a few months before anything strange would happen again. The young boys grandfather had a serious stroke and was bed ridden for months. The young boy had spent many nights with his grandfather before the stroke had occurred and his family would not let him visit his grandfather in the hospital for weeks. Finally the day would come when he would be allowed. His grandfather had lay in a comma for 2 weeks with no response to anyone’s attempts at getting a sign. The young boy entered the room and sat on the side of the bed his grandfather lay in. It was a depressing sight to see the young boy well up with tears. He reached out his hand and grasped his grandfathers hand.. and at that very moment, what many consider to be a miracle transpired.. the grandfather responded by squeezing his grandsons.. hi best friends.. hand. The mother ran for the nurse as the grandfather awoke from his 2 week slumber.. a smile on his face at seeing his young friend. A few months would pass as the grandfather slowly recovered from his stroke. Now confined to a wheel chair without the use of his right side.. life was very frustrating for the once very active man. The boy would seldom visit to see how things were coming. The stroke happened in May and by the time August hit, the grandfather was yet to speak. One day the family brought the young boy back to the hospital to see his grandfather. He once again sat beside him in his bed and looked his grandfather in the eye and said, “you want to say something.. so say it!” The grandfather began to cry… looked at his grandson and finally spoke, “I want to go home!” The family once again was amazed at the miracle that took place before them. No one ever asked a question or inquired about what took place. They just knew.. the young boy had truly seen the lord and he was indeed special. Many years would go by before anything new would take place. Not until the young boy turned into a young man and joined the ranks of college life. The college he went to was a small college in a rural town in upstate Vermont. The land was known for being haunted and the young boy felt awkward the day he stepped foot on campus. He began to have nightmares of being beaten as Jesus was before being crucified. He would awake in his sleep to find whip marks on his back and chest. One night the palms oh his hands bled and as he walked to the bathroom to wash off… the marks would simply disappear. The young boy was again growing scared.. and in turn scaring his roommate as he told him stories of his nightmares. Some nights the young man would get scared and tape crosses to his dorm room door in hopes of being safe. And then.. on Halloween the idea was brought up to walk to the water tower on the hill next to campus. As they walked the grassy knoll, the young man began to feel a chill. As they walked into the woods, he looked to his left and saw a spirit standing in a bog.. the boy collapsed to the ground and lay in the position of the crucifixion. He would awake after 15 minutes, scared and disoriented. His friends would lead him to his room, closed the door and crosses were once again taped to the door. Three other times they would go to the Water Tower.. and 2 of those three times the young man would lay in that storied position and awake without even knowing what had taken place. Then one night a psychic was coming to campus to give a presentation. The young man was very intrigued and opted to go. Upon entering the auditorium he went to find his seat. Near where he was to sit he spotted an older woman and for some reason felt compelled to make eye contact with her. She had been staring at him from the moment he entered the room and she finally said hello. He replied back at which point she said, “You have something to show me and ask me don’t you?” He replied, “yes… how did you know?” “Because I can see the friends you brought with you. We’ll talk later.” The psychic then gave her presentation. She spoke about the haunted campus and then went into teaching others about aura. Some students made their way to the stage for everyone to read their aura. Finally the psychic called for one more students and she called on the young man through the crowd of raised hands. He sat up quick as if he was surprised and then walked to the stage. She stood him in front of the white curtain and asked the audience to see if they could see what is different about him. A few folks began to cry and finally one girl exclaimed, “that’s weird!” “What?” said the psychic.. “I think he has 3 auras!” The psychic smiled and explained that yes he did have 3 auras.. all golden.. the aura of holy presence. He had a gold aura himself and the aura of 2 beings to his right and left.. each in the shape of angels. The boy began to cry knowing of his past.. he had no clue this presence existed and he had not told a single soul on campus about it. The psychic explained to others that whether or not you believe in god.. God is with this young man now and forever. After the presentation the young man asked the psychic to enter a hall way with him. He explained how he felt a spirit was stuck on campus and he could be found in the hallway. The psychic and young man walked down the hall and stopped at the spot they felt they knew where he was. The psychic confirmed it. A young man by the name of Chris who had once played on the college’s basketball team.. and died in a car crash was stuck in this world searching for his way home. He would not leave until the coach of the current basketball team was gone as he was no good. The trophy case began to shake louder as they psychic asked the young man to move on. Months later… the basketball coach would begin swearing at the team mid game and abandon them on the court.. he would be fired and the trophy case never shook again. But the boy always looked back on the strange events that took place during his younger years. As he grew older his activities grew more hazardous. but no matter what he put his body through.. he always seemed to heal fast if he even got hurt at all. Then a few nights before his 22nd B-day he invited some friends over to celebrate. They enjoyed a cookout in his backyard into the wee hours of the morning. Strange noises could be heard in the woods. The young mans friend, Damian, was able to see spirits and at times talk with them. This was Damian’s first time going to the young mans home but he was very interested in what was taking place. He described 2 spirits he saw in the woods. One fit the description of the young mans great grandfather to a T.. the other… his grandmother who had just recently passed away. The boy was amazed but that’s not what he wanted to hear. You see.. he had felt a presence near by that he hadn’t felt in years. The young man asked if there was anyone else in the neighborhood and his friend said yes. Damian was an atheist and never interested in the Catholic Church, never saw a picture of god or even read the bible. But he saw an image in the woods carefully looking over the young man and smiling upon him. Damian decided to draw a picture of the vision. The picture Damian drew was of an older man wearing a brown gown. He held a staff to his side with the Catholic Pius Symbol resting on its top. The young man ran into the house to reach for his first communion picture.. shared it with his friend at which time they saw the same Pius symbol on the young mans first communion cloak. After all the years and strange occurrences.. just as the boy had asked as a teenager… “Leave me alone until I am 21!”.. There the vision was… once again.. watching over the young man. The young man continues to live his life wondering about what the future will bring and if he will ever SEE his friend again. Until that time... oh the stories he has to tell. Now, for those of you that thought the above story was FALSE, here are some more douchie comments by john. Apparently, he thinks that he can see Jesus. DOUCHE!! As a young boy my grandfather would pick me up everyday after kindergarten. He would either take me to his house to spend the afternoon with Grandma and he when he got home.. or he took me with him to work. Either way, I would spend EVERY night of my life with him until I was 13 years old. Everynight we we would go out for either ice cream at Goldenrods in Manchester, Toys R Us for a toy.. or both. We never skipped one of those even if there was a blizzard or hurricane Bob. But in all the years he did this for me.. I finally told him that one day I'll pay him back. He just chuckled and said, "ok." Of course.. what could a child do to pay his grandfather back for spoiling him? If only I knew what I could actually do.. and what I WOULD end up doing. About the time of my parents divorce, my grandfather had had a heart attack. He was a 2 pack a day smoker. As he lie in his hospital bed I asked him, "will you quit smoking now?" Of course he did. He also quit drinking alkaseltzer. Smile But it was a year after that that he had a stroke. He would be confined to a wheel chair for the rest of his life without the use of his right side. For a time he could not even speak. I wouldn;t visit him for weeks.. sometimes months while he was in the hospital. I couldn;t stand to see him like that. They eventually moved him to a home where he was cared for the same way as in the hospital. I remember his B-day.. when we asked him what he wanted.. he said, "I want to go home." So.. we took him home for the day.. in September. On his b-day while at home.. with everyone there.. he asked me what I wanted for my b-day.. I told him, "For you to LIVE at home." He got all emotional... choked up.. and said,"then thats what I'll do." My Uncle Mike thought the idea was a joke. How could he live at home, he couldn't take care of himself and neither could my grandmother. My uncle went about the house for 40 minutes wheeling him around asking him, "how are you going to..." it was embarassing and heart wrenching as my grandfather wept. Finally.. I punched my uncle in the face.. and yelled, "I'll take care of him!" Now was my chance to pay grandpa back.. and for the next two years I would. On my 13th b-day, my grandfather would move back home and I began to care for him. Everyday I would go to school, then go directly to see Moe (his nickname). When I got there I would do all of the house chores, keep up the garden, the yard work, bathe him before bed, dress and undress him, empty his catheter and even help him do other bathroom activities. I would even pick him up from his chair and put him to bed and ocassionally.. stand him up next to the walker.. and try and retrain him to walk again. I would even take him in and out of the car for doctor visits. It was difficult to care for Moe.. I was only a young man caring for him.. a man twice my size. There was no time for my friends, the few I had left, as.. I couldn't hang out with them. I had moved to Derry the 2nd year of taking care of moe.. and my entire Freshman year of highschool.. the year I was supposed to make NEW friends.. I spent taking care of moe rather than hanging out. It got to be too much for a young kid trying to make it in a new town and a new school. I had quit scouting, there was no more soccer.. and I wanted to stay active. After 2 years of caring for moe entirely... I had to break his and my grandmothers heart by explaining how I needed to stop caring for him... them. I'm only glad that they understood why.. and I helped the new Visiting Nurse when she finally started to come to take my place. My grandfather was big on routine. And I would slowly stop visiting as much as I started to rebuild my life.. and my grandmother slowly started to deteriorate. Taking care of herself and my grandfather would prove to be too much for her despite the care of a VN. My grandmother would fall very ill.. and eventually pass on.. something I feel partly reposnible for. Nobody else in the family saw that Grandpa was not the only one who needed caring for.. the work I did had helped grandma as well. She died a Bitter woman. But moe is still very much alive at 85 years old. Living in a nursing home. I visit him weekly to get his football picks as I run a family football pool in his honor. Funny.. the old goat seems to kick our butts.. after all of these years. I'm just glad he still thanks me every week... for paying him back. I'll NEVER forget the day I graduated form College... as we hugged at the VWA in Manch... we both cried.. and he told me how proud he was of me.. and that he tought he would die before I graduated. It meant a lot that the guy hung around.. so we could hang out.. as we did for so many years.
From:	Janet	(Tue Jun 10 18:52:04 2008)
I'm really impressed with this one. Another great shot for your collection. Regards Janet Jackson
From:	Janet	(Tue Jun 10 19:36:57 2008)
I've saved this one and made it my desktop background. If you have a larger version I would pay for it. Regards Janet Jackson
From:	Janet	(Tue Jun 10 20:08:52 2008)
A great all round photo. No technical issues with this one. Regards Janet Jackson
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