[This message has been edited by Welly (edited May 10, 2004).]

quote:

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Originally posted by Trader O:
I was searching on cnn.com with key words gay cable and found an old article about Miller beer: http://www.cnn.com/US/9907/31/gay.advertising/index.html

Hopefully QBID is courting Miller and other advertisers who had to yank off gay ads on the regular stations.

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Here's a little something that shows just how wierd things can really get when all you really wanted to do was
have a quiet day. Its kinda long just bear with it and enjoy.

****

I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be
so incredibly dangerous!

Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second,
and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or
sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been
likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions
or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.

Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late
decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being
"behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins
to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does
something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things
right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.

Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle...
at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to
keep up with the machine.

I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back
into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways.
Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but
suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane
more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around
here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying
attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing
until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided
another car that I was not even aware was there! Two bad decisions and
insufficient situational awareness... all within seconds. I was behind the
power curve. Time to get off the freeway.

I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed
through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I
turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face
helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet
surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so
frequently required when riding.

Little did I suspect...

As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it
and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must
have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really
was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it - it was
that close.

I hate to run over animals... and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a
squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the
impact.

Animal lovers never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on
his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his
little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he
screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!"
or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular
and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.

Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he
brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing,
and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only
in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause
for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a
t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential
street... and in the fight of his life with a squirrel, and losing.

I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all
my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running
into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It
really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely
kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No
one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off
squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death! Somehow he caught my
gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw
swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed
square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely
distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were
continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least.
The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the
throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a
healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist
on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what
the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel
screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in... well...
I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at
maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street... on
one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel
are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the
handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant
squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's
tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how
to release the throttle... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage
to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power
of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient
attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel
of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with
me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am
quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little
affect on the squirrel however.

The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at
the moment) and her front end started to drop. Now picture the large man
on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn
t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still
on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly
closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little
hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out
of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it
worked... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.

Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a
quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some
paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser,
dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one
leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody
murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade
directly into your police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped
the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to
a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.

I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would
have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or
the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his
back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and
was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was
standing in the street and was training a shotgun on the police cruiser.

So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the
professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I
swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car
among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his
little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger!

That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car!

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and
sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw
it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil,
demonic, attack squirrel of death... I'll take my chances with the freeway.
Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves

quote:

---

Originally posted by DragonMaster:
Good Morning all, I hope all the ladies had a great Mother's Day.

Here's a little something that shows just how wierd things can really get when all you really wanted to do was have a quiet day. Its kinda long just bear with it and enjoy.

****

I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous!

Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.

Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.

Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle... at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.

I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there! Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness... all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway.

I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding.

Little did I suspect...

As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it - it was that close.

I hate to run over animals... and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.

Animal lovers never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.

Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street... and in the fight of his life with a squirrel, and losing.

I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.

That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.

But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death! Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!

The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.

The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in... well... I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street... on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle... my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.

The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop. Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand... I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked... sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.

Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork. Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.

I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a shotgun on the police cruiser.

So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger!

That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car!

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death... I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves

DragonMaster,

Neat story, I enjoyed the read.
Valkyrie...neat bike!

Steve

---

After looking at the chart I realize that there might be a few more drops as people get impatient & sell and then the spike upwards shorthly after.

In February QBID topped .0025 twice then dropped below .0020 within a few weeks..At that point everyone was skeptical and scared so people started selling..But then QBID rose to .0030. Then a month later .020..

Look at the potential that exists for the "Q". Here are some possibilities:

Same ask and Bid as B-4 open
ask .014
Bid .0137

Okay guys, listen to what happened to me on Friday:

I work in promotions for an advertising agency based out of Phoenix, AZ. (I manage the satellite office in my hometown of St. Louis, MO.)

I went to Phoenix Friday on a day trip on business and on the way back into town my flight happened to be late so while waiting to board, I called one of my close family friends to ask them how QBID was doing and to see where it closed for the day. I had no access to a computer today so I was dying to know. )

I literally spent 1-2 minutes on the phone with him and NOT ONCE did I mention QBID, q-television or anything about the conference. All I said was something like, "Yeah, you need to call Direct TV to request it" and "We just have to wait and see what happens...pr comes out supposedly on Teusday." I also told my friend to make sure to check out the hotline this week to get updates. I had to cut the conversation short since I had to board my plane.

AS SOON AS I HUNG UP THE PHONE, the person next to me goes, "Are you talking about QBID?" I freaked out! I was like, "HECK YEAH I'm talkin' about QBID! I take it you're an investor?" She said, "Heck yes!" I was so excited! I can't believe how random that is...I was on my way back home to St. Louis and happened to be in Phoenix of all places and it just so happens that the person standing RIGHT NEXT TO ME was a QBID investor! She proceeded to tell me that she knows about 20 people who have invested in QBID and that she herself owns 246,000 shares. She said she hasn't been able to keep herself away from the computer since she bought QBID and she's waiting for the day it blows up!

HOW COOL IS THAT?!!!!

Just wanted to share!!!!

GO QBID!!!!!!!

2X.0137
1X.0136
1X.01
1X.001
2X.0137

UH FOLKS, I HAVE NOT IDEA HOW THE BID GOT LIKE THIS BUT THAT'S EXACTLY HOW IT APPEARS ON L2

ASK

2X.014
1X.0156
1X.025
1X.04
3X.014

quote:

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Originally posted by realperson:
sale of 500 shares
Give me a break

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what about the 290? LOL