Really? Was our low last night 69 degrees? Honestly ? How do they do this in the Midwest...Arizona...Palm Desert...Iraq...you are all my heroes. I can't make myself water my tomatoes and people exercise, live, run errands (or fight wars!) in this. UG. That's all I've got. UG. We slept with the shop portable a/c in our room last night, so at least I got a leg up ...some rest! I am seriously dreading the shop today. The streets were DEAD yesterday. I'll have the a/c...but the people are all in hiding! And I have dinner group tonight....OUTSIDE. We are all going to melt and die. I mean ...it will be so much fun. I am dessert (easy!), the theme is "picnic" (YEAH!) but I don't have the dessert made. Or...the ingredients purchased. Or..the time to do either part. Shop OR chop. So...I am going to beg my husband to make a stop nicholas cage movies here and pray that my dinner group cronies don't throw chicken legs, corn or blueberry wine coolers at me. I mean...how can you be nasty (in this heat...did I mention it was hot?) when someone brings you coconut pound cake and banana pudding? No...I didn't think so.

July 8 was the sixth annual SCUD Day. SCUD is S avor the C omic, U nplug the D rama; July 8 is a day to remind people of the many benefits of living in the Comic Zone and the perils of living in the Drama Zone. Today I have posted in honor of the Comic Zone. Please throw drama out the window, throw caution to the wind, and participate in at least one of the "unusual" activities recommended below. Let me know how the tango goes. (And pass this post along to grumpy lawyers; it will be very good for their health.) POWERFUL MEDICINE: TANGO WITH YOUR TOAST Power in the Comic Zone The Comic Zone contains much laughter. People in the Comic Zone are infused with the spirit of laughter, they have an aura of smiles. They have high self-mirth. And that is good for those inhabiting the Comic Zone because laughter has power. Great power. Sacred power. Astounding power. We should honor laughter and what it does for us. Laughter torpedoes stress levels, accelerates learning, catapults creativity, forges strong teams, and strengthens our edit pdf files health. It gives us many gifts. It is a magic potion, elixir of life and fountain of youth all rolled up into one hearty hee-haw. Lots of laughs a day keep the doctor away A study out of University of Maryland indicates that laughter reduces the risk of coronary heart disease. A press release about the study from the University said: “People with heart disease were less likely to recognize humor or use it to get out of uncomfortable situations.

Here are some photos I took along the way I was making the toy My toy and its mini-me Inside skateboarding for dummies of the toy The electronic parts (motor + recording module)

The Voice Come close to someone and they may speak to you in the voice in which they speak to themselves. That voice, never heard out loud, by which they goad and orient themselves - allowing them to press forward or sink back, to strive for something or to give up. Come close to another, and you'll hear it, that secret voice in which they speak to themselves. This is the way to learn what another is like. Live close to them, live alongside them, and even if you dislike them, that voice will let speak the integrity of their lives, the way it binds itself together. But also that which that life seeks to bind itself against - you'll learn what threatens them, and how they have made their way through the world. Perhaps this is why Kafka and his father were set against one another: the father let the son hear the voice which allowed him to lift himself from peasantry. And what a voice! So savage and so raw! Kafka's voice was different; perhaps you could say it had been claimed, that it was literature's - only it was Kafka who claimed himself hobby power supply for literature. It was he who set aside, with a determination that was the echo of his father's, a few hours each night, to write. Each night, every night, he would experience the claim of what claimed him, reaffirming it in turn. He heard a voice, but it was one which said nothing. A voice as privation, to which he joined his own voice that we hear sometimes in his letters.

July 8 was the sixth annual SCUD Day. SCUD is S avor the C omic, U nplug the D rama; July 8 is a day to remind people of the many benefits of living in the Comic Zone and the perils of living in the Drama Zone. Today I have posted in honor of the Comic Zone. Please throw drama out the window, throw caution to the wind, and participate in at least one of the "unusual" activities recommended below. Let me know how the tango goes. (And pass this post along to grumpy lawyers; it will be very good for their health.) POWERFUL MEDICINE: TANGO WITH YOUR TOAST Power in the Comic Zone The Comic Zone contains much laughter. People in the Comic Zone are infused with the spirit of laughter, they have an aura of smiles. They have high self-mirth. And that is good for those inhabiting the Comic Zone because laughter has power. Great power. Sacred power. Astounding power. We should honor laughter and what it does for us. Laughter torpedoes stress levels, accelerates learning, catapults creativity, forges strong teams, and strengthens our health. It gives us many gifts. It is a magic potion, elixir of life and fountain of youth all rolled up into one hearty hee-haw. Lots of laughs a day keep the doctor away A study out of University of Maryland sales lead indicates that laughter reduces the risk of coronary heart disease. A press release about the study from the University said: “People with heart disease were less likely to recognize humor or use it to get out of uncomfortable situations.

Really? Was our low last night 69 degrees? Honestly ? How do they do this in the Midwest...Arizona...Palm Desert...Iraq...you are all my heroes. I can't make myself water my tomatoes and people exercise, live, run errands (or fight wars!) in this. UG. That's all I've got. UG. We slept with the shop portable a/c in our room last night, so at least I got a leg up ...some rest! I am seriously dreading the shop today. The streets were DEAD yesterday. I'll have the a/c...but the people are all in hiding! And I have dinner group tonight....OUTSIDE. We are all going to melt and die. I mean ...it will be so much fun. I am dessert (easy!), the theme is "picnic" (YEAH!) but I don't have the dessert made. Or...the ingredients purchased. Or..the time to do either part. Shop OR chop. So...I am going to beg my husband to make a stop here and pray that my dinner group cronies mlm lead list don't throw chicken legs, corn or blueberry wine coolers at me. I mean...how can you be nasty (in this heat...did I mention it was hot?) when someone brings you coconut pound cake and banana pudding? No...I didn't think so.

Really? Was our low last night 69 degrees? Honestly ? How do they do this in the Midwest...Arizona...Palm Desert...Iraq...you are all my heroes. I can't make myself water my tomatoes and people exercise, live, run errands (or fight wars!) in this. UG. That's all I've got. UG. We slept with the shop portable a/c in our room last night, so at least I got a leg up ...some rest! I am seriously dreading the shop today. The streets were DEAD yesterday. I'll have the a/c...but the people are all in hiding! And I have dinner group tonight....OUTSIDE. We are all going to melt and die. I mean ...it will be so much fun. I am dessert (easy!), the theme is "picnic" (YEAH!) but I don't have the dessert made. Or...the ingredients purchased. Or..the time to do either part. Shop OR chop. So...I am going to beg my husband to make a stop here and pray that purchase mailing list my dinner group cronies don't throw chicken legs, corn or blueberry wine coolers at me. I mean...how can you be nasty (in this heat...did I mention it was hot?) when someone brings you coconut pound cake and banana pudding? No...I didn't think so.

July 8 was the sixth annual SCUD Day. SCUD is S avor the C omic, U nplug the D rama; July 8 is a day to remind people of the many benefits of living in the Comic Zone and the perils of living in the Drama Zone. Today I have posted in honor of the Comic Zone. Please throw drama out the window, throw caution to the wind, and participate in at least one of the "unusual" activities recommended below. Let me know how the tango goes. (And pass this post along to grumpy lawyers; it will be very good for their health.) POWERFUL MEDICINE: TANGO WITH YOUR TOAST Power in the Comic Zone The Comic online shopping mall list Zone contains much laughter. People in the Comic Zone are infused with the spirit of laughter, they have an aura of smiles. They have high self-mirth. And that is good for those inhabiting the Comic Zone because laughter has power. Great power. Sacred power. Astounding power. We should honor laughter and what it does for us. Laughter torpedoes stress levels, accelerates learning, catapults creativity, forges strong teams, and strengthens our health. It gives us many gifts. It is a magic potion, elixir of life and fountain of youth all rolled up into one hearty hee-haw. Lots of laughs a day keep the doctor away A study out of University of Maryland indicates that laughter reduces the risk of coronary heart disease. A press release about the study from the University said: “People with heart disease were less likely to recognize humor or use it to get out of uncomfortable situations.

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Really? Was our low last night 69 degrees? Honestly ? How do they do this in the Midwest...Arizona...Palm Desert...Iraq...you are all my heroes. I can't make myself water my tomatoes and people exercise, live, run errands (or fight wars!) in this. UG. That's all I've got. UG. We slept with the shop portable a/c in our room last night, so at least I got a leg up ...some rest! I am seriously dreading the shop today. The streets were DEAD yesterday. I'll have the a/c...but the people are all in hiding! And I have dinner group tonight....OUTSIDE. We are all going to melt and die. I mean ...it will be so much fun. I am dessert (easy!), the theme is "picnic" merchant credit card account (YEAH!) but I don't have the dessert made. Or...the ingredients purchased. Or..the time to do either part. Shop OR chop. So...I am going to beg my husband to make a stop here and pray that my dinner group cronies don't throw chicken legs, corn or blueberry wine coolers at me. I mean...how can you be nasty (in this heat...did I mention it was hot?) when someone brings you coconut pound cake and banana pudding? No...I didn't think so.

Really? Was our low last night 69 degrees? Honestly ? How do they do this in the Midwest...Arizona...Palm Desert...Iraq...you are all my heroes. I can't make myself water my tomatoes and people exercise, live, run errands (or fight wars!) in this. UG. That's all I've got. UG. We slept with the shop portable a/c in our room last night, so at least I got a leg up ...some rest! I am seriously dreading the shop today. The streets were DEAD yesterday. I'll have the a/c...but the people are all in hiding! And I have dinner group tonight....OUTSIDE. We are all going to melt and die. I mean ...it will be so much fun. I am dessert (easy!), the theme is "picnic" (YEAH!) but I don't have the dessert made. Or...the ingredients purchased. Or..the time to do either part. Shop OR chop. So...I am going to beg my husband to make a stop here and pray that my dinner group cronies don't throw chicken legs, corn or blueberry wine coolers at me. I mean...how can you be nasty (in this heat...did I mention it was hot?) when someone brings you wooden wheelchair ramp coconut pound cake and banana pudding? No...I didn't think so.

It occurred to me to ask myself, just after mile two when my right calf seized up like it had been hooked to a car battery and the pain shot through my leg and I slowed to a hobble muttering godfuckingdammitgodfuckingdammitgodfucking dammit - I asked myself why, why again was I doing this? A few days prior, the long slow commute home, and Nirvana's cover of "Lake of Fire" hums through the speakers. I've little love for Nirvana; I was there when it all went down, and having loved all of the bands that they "borrowed" from, I believe that Cobain had the crown of genius placed on his head a wee bit prematurely. Eminem the real slim shady But Unplugged I like; a glimpse into what might have been, had Kurt not opted to check out. Not for the first time it hit me, listening to him wail through that song - the performance itself is a suicide note. You hear it in the lyrics, and you saw it in his eyes. He'd made the decision at that point; the rest was just timing. The other night at the bookstore, and I'm walking through the stacks. I've already decided on a title (screwed up the courage to read McCarthy's The Road ; infinitely glad I did, for it's perhaps the saddest, grimmest book I've read, and the finest, most beautiful rendition of what it means to love your child that I've come across), but was thinking about what to read next. Hemingway came to mind. If I had a "favorite" author, it might be him.

The Voice Come close to someone and they may speak to you in the voice in which they speak to themselves. That voice, never heard out loud, by which they goad and orient themselves - allowing them to press forward or sink back, to strive for something or to give up. Come close to another, and you'll hear it, that secret voice in which they speak to themselves. This is the way to learn what another is like. Live close to them, live alongside them, and even if you dislike them, that voice will let speak the integrity of their lives, the way it binds itself together. But also that which that life seeks to bind itself against - you'll learn what threatens them, and how they have made their way through the world. Perhaps this is why Kafka and his father were set against one another: the father let the son hear the voice which allowed him to lift himself from peasantry. And what a voice! So savage and so raw! Kafka's voice was different; perhaps you could say it had been claimed, that it spyware software was literature's - only it was Kafka who claimed himself for literature. It was he who set aside, with a determination that was the echo of his father's, a few hours each night, to write. Each night, every night, he would experience the claim of what claimed him, reaffirming it in turn. He heard a voice, but it was one which said nothing. A voice as privation, to which he joined his own voice that we hear sometimes in his letters.

The Voice Come close to someone and they may speak to you in the voice in which they speak to themselves. That voice, never heard out loud, by which they goad and orient themselves - allowing them to press forward or sink back, to strive for something or to give up. Come close to another, and you'll download movies warez hear it, that secret voice in which they speak to themselves. This is the way to learn what another is like. Live close to them, live alongside them, and even if you dislike them, that voice will let speak the integrity of their lives, the way it binds itself together. But also that which that life seeks to bind itself against - you'll learn what threatens them, and how they have made their way through the world. Perhaps this is why Kafka and his father were set against one another: the father let the son hear the voice which allowed him to lift himself from peasantry. And what a voice! So savage and so raw! Kafka's voice was different; perhaps you could say it had been claimed, that it was literature's - only it was Kafka who claimed himself for literature. It was he who set aside, with a determination that was the echo of his father's, a few hours each night, to write. Each night, every night, he would experience the claim of what claimed him, reaffirming it in turn. He heard a voice, but it was one which said nothing. A voice as privation, to which he joined his own voice that we hear sometimes in his letters.

Really? Was our low last night 69 degrees? Honestly ? How do they do this in the Midwest...Arizona...Palm Desert...Iraq...you are all my heroes. I can't make myself water my tomatoes and student loan services people exercise, live, run errands (or fight wars!) in this. UG. That's all I've got. UG. We slept with the shop portable a/c in our room last night, so at least I got a leg up ...some rest! I am seriously dreading the shop today. The streets were DEAD yesterday. I'll have the a/c...but the people are all in hiding! And I have dinner group tonight....OUTSIDE. We are all going to melt and die. I mean ...it will be so much fun. I am dessert (easy!), the theme is "picnic" (YEAH!) but I don't have the dessert made. Or...the ingredients purchased. Or..the time to do either part. Shop OR chop. So...I am going to beg my husband to make a stop here and pray that my dinner group cronies don't throw chicken legs, corn or blueberry wine coolers at me. I mean...how can you be nasty (in this heat...did I mention it was hot?) when someone brings you coconut pound cake and banana pudding? No...I didn't think so.

The Voice Come close to someone and they may speak to you in the voice in which they speak to themselves. That voice, never heard out loud, by which they goad and orient themselves - allowing them to press forward or sink back, to strive for something or to give up. corporate identity management Come close to another, and you'll hear it, that secret voice in which they speak to themselves. This is the way to learn what another is like. Live close to them, live alongside them, and even if you dislike them, that voice will let speak the integrity of their lives, the way it binds itself together. But also that which that life seeks to bind itself against - you'll learn what threatens them, and how they have made their way through the world. Perhaps this is why Kafka and his father were set against one another: the father let the son hear the voice which allowed him to lift himself from peasantry. And what a voice! So savage and so raw! Kafka's voice was different; perhaps you could say it had been claimed, that it was literature's - only it was Kafka who claimed himself for literature. It was he who set aside, with a determination that was the echo of his father's, a few hours each night, to write. Each night, every night, he would experience the claim of what claimed him, reaffirming it in turn. He heard a voice, but it was one which said nothing. A voice as privation, to which he joined his own voice that we hear sometimes in his letters.