The bearings seem to be mounted in one side and have a bolt that goes through the adjoining bar.

Just started this; no editing yet, sorry.

Raw. The whole place was raw; the smell, the people, the blurred sights, it all wavered right into his unbarred senses. The intermingled smells of roasting tobacco and still vodka flood the room, like an insensible haze; hidden behind the strobe lights which doubled to conceal the drunken faces of the spray tanned orange woman. Isaac pushed through the swaying crowd of annoyed with the tingle of their skin against his. It was like the alcohol trickled out of their pores; hidden in the disguise of stifling sweat. It coated the room with the unnatural humidity, reeking of the vomit worthy scent. He could turn away from this place; ram out the very door which provided him access to this hell riddled place and never dare to look back; but that be leaving his charge; his duty, his problem. With gritted teeth he shoved through the unbarring crowd, his body taking the most of the hits from the sloppy dancing of lost minds. And mentally, his began to brace his scenes and over ride them; manually turning them to the lowest pities of their abilities effortlessly. Raw, uncanny, his movements where sly as he finally emerged from the intoxicated mob into the classier section of the Kanora Club; where the people had dispersed and the nauseating smell faintly lingered. He fixed his tuxedo, relining his striped tie as he crept forward in then darkness. The strobe lights had dimmed as he gradually strolled to the chic part of the club. With the dying phase of the flashing, Isaac finally got to glimpse his surroundings; getting his bearings as he crept onwards.
Leather couches were rammed up against the night black walls; which upheld paintings of money, drugs, and mob symbols Isaac couldn’t’t identify. A cat walk, which blended into the black tile of the icy floor, gleamed as his eyes momentarily scanned over it. A bar wasn’t too distant from either of the main structures, with red swivel stools; all token with wasted men. Isaac’s tinted shades barely allowed a vision of the hazy people who sat back and lounged on the elongated sofas and the intimidating bar tender. Yes, this certainly was the upper class section of the club.
He cranked his neck in a swivel, allowing a cracking sound to erupted, but it was only piercing enough for his tuned senses to catch. Isaac let his teeth loosen as he strolled boldly to the last leather sofa, prime seating for watching his surroundings and the cat walk. He sat down, and made sure to scan the eyes of his fellow attendees as he did. None of them took much concentration to his presence or covered up attire. He involuntarily grinned.
Isaac leaned back, putting his tanned hands on his knees and stretching his lumbar; making sure to double check his surroundings slyly. Everything seemed normal. Now he just needed to find his man, Zack. His tongue licked the pinked sides of his lips as he scouted the room for the individual. The note had said Zack was blond, blue eyes, extremely pale. That kind of appearance would catch his eye anywhere, even in this pitch-black pot hole. But as his eyes flickered, he own seemed to witness dark haired men and woman with empty eyes.
“Hello.”
Charming, sweet, intoxicating. Deceiving; a voice of a makeup caked girl. Isaac barely glanced up from his ebony shades to find a teenage, in her fifteens or sixteen’s, gleaming in his direction. Her eyes danced, even in the dim light. But clearly, she wasn’t the type of girl he would dare even mull over. She stood on top of the cat walk, exposed. Her skin was clanged to only by a few flimsy straps; a thong, fish nets, and a strapless bra which all merged with the echoing background. She was a stripper; the tasteful entertainment of the Kanora Club. Isaac didn’t give her a second glance and slightly cursed at her, but faced another direction as he mumbled his hate. Out of his peripheral vision he watched the blacken figure of her body twirl and scat away, back the way she came. A deep sigh fled his inebriated lungs as she departed; obviously she was aware he had no need for her presence. Once more, he refocused; Zack.
Yeah, the two of you who said it was boring it’s because i answered your question earlier and said your plots suck. Just saying.
and I def. said at the top I haven’t edited it, so wth, why say anything ’bout the grammer?

I recently adopted a year-old kitty from a shelter. We already had a 7-year old cat, who is very friendly, docile and well-behaved. He has been with other cats before and is extremely tolerant.

The new kitty is boisterous and playful, which is accepted at his age. However, I am having trouble controlling him. He also hits the older cat in his playfulness. Some of these are severe scratches. The older guy only paws back in self-defense and mostly walks away from the little one’s assaults.

The little one also pays no heed to me or my husband – when we got him he was scared and insecure and we let him be for the first couple of weeks, so he could find his bearings before we imposed rules.

I really need to train the little one. We love his playfulness, but his bashing our older kitty is troubling us. We would also like to draw some limits (like he can’t sit on some of the furniture, or climb on kitchen counter tops and knock off food).

Any advice?