These feelings save him. Is he dead from our cause, or is he from another? Burning droplets of liquid life descend unto the artificially crafted slabs of solidified paste, creating a series of impacts so intensely connected they sound as if they were one sizzling sound of melting flesh.
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Then there was that time when the U. Guess which branch of government bore the brunt of that blame? Fuck you, you idiot.
Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Other editions.
I spent 13 years of my life working in various jobs, and I never felt right about it. When are you going to get the balls to try working for yourself? I decided to ditch my well-paying but mind-numbingly-boring job and find out for myself if being self-employed was the answer to all my prayers.
Twitter Facebook Instagram. I went to a supermarket last night to pick up some coffee for the shop and on the way out, this old fucker just stopped walking and stood there in the doorway to check her receipt. She was blocking everyone who wanted to come in and out.
But why be a blog only homie? Burnt Ends is definitely a restaurant that has all the indications of a restaurant that international visitors are going to be all over because it always appears on those lists. You know, those stupid destination lists you read in the airplane magazines accompanied by a moody night time shot taken from outside the restaurant with the glow of the restaurant illuminating some beardy, tattooed chef in a leather apron with his arms crossed.
Top definition. Like a motherfucker unknown. Used to indicate an unusually high degree of intensity. See gangbusters.
Wouldn't you believe Hell is not a place Hell is not a certain evil Hell is other people Or the lack thereof And their lack of love And their lack of love. Baby, while we're young I think we should do something crazy Like say fuck everyone And just run away from the daily Routine Yea, you know what I mean. Cause its been another perfect day with ya Wanna lay with ya Spend a night with ya And spend my life with ya Alright Yea you heard me right.
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted. The autumn is the time to pluck up that which is planted, and, often, to arrange it in aesthetically pleasing centerpieces and porch displays. The piece is an aggressively exuberant fist-pumping celebration of fall, and of the reason for the season: decorative gourds, of course.