Happy Christmas, everyone.
Lie no more, and forever.
The only thing I miss in life is a second bathroom.
For a song to stay in my collection (and my collection and my playlist are the same thing) it must meet the following criteria:
- The very first chords have to arouse a minimal, almost non-existent, inner feeling of joy in myself, just because of that song.
- It has to suit my mood, whatever my mood happens to be at that very moment.
- Not for a second the thought I wish it’d have finished by now must present in my mind.
And no holy cows neither sentimentality crap whatsoever.
Wind, rain, and snow, plenty of. Midway I began to fear my toes would freeze. Chainset and sprockets started to malfunction just in the middle of nowhere, with heavy snow falling on a beautiful white for once landscape. A shame all these worries didn’t let me fully enjoy the ride. Pretty decent times for all the trouble. I feel increasingly safe on the bike.
When is the right moment for something to happen? Never when it does.
Particularly apply to your son’s social upbringing process.
The Saxon genitive is dying.
To need someone’s love is bad, for both. To love without needing is good, for all.
A woman in her sixties standing well in the middle of a parking lot, guarding it against competing drivers, waiting for her husband to make his driving around the block and park right on the spot,
And an auto repair shop with a wall plastered with calendars of pin-up girls,
Relics of a world that was.
I wonder, is there an end to the talk about how to rinse, cut, sink, brush and comb the curls, perms, braids, buns and ponytails in which my female coworkers passionately engage every time any of them makes the slightest, most unnoticeable to-no-one-except-them modification of her straight, dry, greasy, dyed, iron-curled or whatever scalp they happen to own at the moment? ‘Cos in my office at least it is relentless, incessant, non-stop, formidable.