His latest and greatest leasing offer is on the fantastic Lexus IS 4-door saloon which could be yours for  measly £249.95 per month, plus VAT. To buy outright this beast of a car could cost you as much as £50K, with all the bells and whistles.

We went for a spin in the Lexus and I was enormously impressed. It's not really a car for me as I don't think it would suit my regular runs to our local tip laden with garden waster. This car is definitely in the executive class with great handling, top quality interior and fantastic security and safety features.

So if you are looking for a practical little runabout this probably isn't for you. But if you are looking for a well equipped, safe and secure executive class saloon I'd recommend taking a ride in a Lexus IS.

People have been leaving comments all morning!!! Thank you all!

Feel free to visit my site and see the comments that others have made. Just go to my site and click on the link to my Interactive Comments Forum. Take your time and view the other pages if you like!

http://catharsis.scriptmania.com/

http://www.freewebs.com/mynitemare/

http://www.freewebs.com/mynitemare/

I just wanted to let everyone know that my server is experiencing problems right now, but not to worry….I anticipated this so I have numerous “Clone Sites” of my page and I am publishing one or maybe even two of them immediately! Woohooo!!!!

<GRIN>

Like I said in my last post on my own site….I won't be bullied anymore and I’m not going anywhere!!!

Having said all that I just don’t understand ANYTHING being more important than ones children. **********

• To Jenny, her drinking is more important than her kids.

• To Glenn, his being high on prescription meds is more important than his kids.

• To John, money and his hatred of his ex-wife is more important than his kids.

• To my Mother, her bitterness at the cards life dealt her was more important than her kids.

• To my Sister, her next score of illegal drugs was more important than her kids.

Why do people have children if those children and their importance are disposable? I don’t understand how anyone can consider anything as being more important than their kids.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not one of those people who think that my children are little princes who are perfect because of the mere fact that they are mine. Nope. So it’s not an ego thing with me where they are so perfect that I, and everyone, must genuflect at my children’s feet. Nowhere near that. Just like in life, I am nothing if not realistic about my sons and nephew.

It’s just that I cant think of anything, that if I knew it was in any way negatively impacting my children, that I wouldn’t give it up in a heartbeat. 

Is it that the addicted choose not to see the impact on the children? Is it that they convince themselves that it isn’t having an impact? Or does it truly not matter to them as long as the continued addiction is not impeded in any way? I guess I am just musing. Because I don’t have an addictive personality it is a little difficult for me to understand the NEED for anything if it puts ones children in danger or alienates them.

Don’t forget to visit my site called “I Call Myself A Jerk Magnet!” http://catharsis.scriptmania.com/ 

And yes, the jerk is still obsessed and pretending to be a “white-trash Women” when he posts comments in my comment forum! I find it amusing. I think you will as well!!!

 

So today, while waiting in the big boss' office for a meeting to begin, the big boss was telling us how he is an ordained minister and he has had a lot of people call him recently and request that he officiate at their wedding. He has told us about other weddings he has officiated and how much he enjoyed it, but today he said it is beginning to demand too much of his attention.

Martha asked him, Well what if one of your kids get married? Will you officiate?

He said "Oh, of course I will!"

Then Bert said "What if a close friend asks you to officiate their wedding?

He said "Of Course".

Then I chimed in with "What if I find the Jerk I want to spend the rest of my life with? Will you officiate?" Then the room erupted in to laughter!  

Don't forget to visit my site called "I Call Myself A Jerk Magnet!"

http://catharsis.scriptmania.com/ 

And yes, the jerk is still obsessed and pretending to be a "white-trash Women" when he posts comments in my comment forum! I find it amusing. I think you will as well!!!

http://catharsis.scriptmania.com/ 

And yes, the jerk is still obsessed and pretending to be a "white-trash Women" when he posts comments in my comment forum! I find it amusing. I think you will as well!!!

If you are a history buff, love the wild west, or are just looking for a great tasting micro brew, you gotta stop into Hickcock's Steakhouse and Brewery and check out their fabulous atmosphere!  I really enjoyed stopping in and taking in the whole scene.  There is a large portrait of Wild Bill himself  that looks down from the wall into the lower level and microbrewery and you can get an up close and personal view as you mosey on up to the upper level bar and dining area.  The Calamity Jane pale ale was a treat to the taste buds and the pizza was mouthwatering.  This place has serious atmosphere, a variety of specialty beers, and terrific food and drink specials.  On the first Friday of every month you can catch a live cowboy shoot out reenactment!

头发卷着,等待变成包租婆.



在等着我弄头发,
ian拍下几张最后的作纪念.

卷一半多了.

Replay变身包租婆.

到ian了.

Adrian:要剪几多呢?

Adrian:就剪那么多.

开始!

变短了.

开始有点看不惯.

头顶大红包.

等了很久还是要等..

到ian开始变身了.

拆了卷头发的圈圈后的样子

ian卷到差不多了.

在放着很臭的药水,
看ian的表情就知道有几臭.

轮到ian头顶大红包了.

讲真APT的电视一点娱乐的功效都没有,
只会越看越闷...

卷完头发到上色,上完色又要用这奇怪的东西..

到ian开始拆了...

我的裤子...好像有点肮脏.


出来的效果好炸.

遮住pimple..


搞到10点多,我的头搞定了.

很尖的尖梳

等着ian弄头发时,
空闲的时候,有时拍照的好时间.





开始烘头发了.
最后我们在差不多11点半左右才离开sunway pyramid.

吃饱后,
因为是星期一,
所以就来了我家抄戏.
命中注定我爱你第22集

ian来到我家,
Gal Gal用38的眼神看着.

ian的头,
不过这发行只活了一天.
隔天又去弄了下改了下..

“You off the wagon yet?” Joe asked. “I have some people I want you to meet.”

My body screamed at me. I so wanted a tall blonde, I could taste it.

“I’m there, it’ll probably be more effective than a photo op at the liberty bell.”

An hour and a half later, we were in Port Richmond section of the city. Joe brought the Caddy to a rest in front of a small corner bar called Shenanigan’s Saloon. “We could have gotten your photo op,” Joe said noting that the bar wasn’t yet open. I shrugged.

I slipped out of the car and walked down Gaul Street, thinking back to the time I spent in Philadelphia. It was back in the days of the 1978 MOVE standoff in Powelton Village, when the cops made a military style invasion of the group’s home. Frank Rizzo was still mayor and after the incident, I left Philly and never returned until today. When I finished with my walk, Joe was inside the bar. He was munching on hot wings, drinking a cold one and wiping the tears from his eyes. Looking up, he said: “Hottest Wings in the city. I ordered you some.”

The small crowd, consisting of a local and the bartender, was interested in what had to say. Before long, the conversation turned parochial and we discussed the happenings of the city in the past thirty years.

We ended spending the afternoon and part of the early evening. Patrons shuffled in and out, some coming in just to see a presidential candidate. Around 7 PM we said goodbye to our new friends. Joe guided the Caddy through Philly to the Schuylkill Expressway and out to the western burbs.

I owed a visit to the campaign manager’s hometown. Joe pulled into Royersford and found Tom’s bar. I immediately understood why this was his watering hole. Any bar that has $1.50 tall blonde specials is my kind of place. I introduced myself to the silver haired lady sitting near the side door and a faint smile came over her face as I told her I was instructed to stop at Tom’s on my campaign. We fell into a friendly chat in which I gained dirt on the campaign manager.

I learned when you had the attention of the diminutive boss, you had the attention of the bar. Tonight, the bar was crowded and I fell into a tizzy of handshaking and stumping. Between my experience in Erie and the southeastern corner of the state, I think the campaign’s goal for Pennsylvania will be attained. I looked across the bar, saw Joe in conversation, and knew that I was wearing out my welcome. I slipped from Tom’s into the parking lot, retrieved my pack from the Caddy and walked down Royersford’s Main Street till I came to the tracks. I looked east and west, standing indecisive for a minute before choosing west. I strode down the tracks into the darkness of night.

Another thing that’s killing me is the drink specials. The drinks are about $2 cheaper than in Miami and there always seems to be a 2-4-1 or 3-4-1 special going on. My problem is that I’m not a huge drinker, and at some clubs they don’t give you a ticket… they just hand you two beers.

There's no graceful way to doublefist beer at the clubhouse. You'll look like you have issues every time.

So the result of the Minnesota portion problem is that I’m always lugging around a to-go box.

And yes, there’s one sitting on my coffee table as I’m typing this.

These guys are my favorite. It's like the bird turds have come to life and decided to garden!

So apparently the Mary Tyler Moore Show was based here... as a kid I assumed all city shows took place in NYC. Oops!

Moving to Minneapolis a month early was a good idea. I’m meeting my housemates sort of one-by-one as they move in instead of in a huge group a few days before school starts. I also get to explore at a relaxed (and random) pace –“Oh let’s see where this bus goes to!”

City Hall!

Stained glass windows in City Hall

I was a history major as an undergrad and I’m a huge sucker for historic buildings. City hall didn’t disappoint – a highlight was the heroic statue in the middle of the lobby.

"Father of Waters" by Larkin Goldsmith Mead

More pictures of downtown at my facebook gallery 1 and gallery 2.

Lady sitting behind me (to her friend): Our new couch is AMAZING. This must be the best time in our marriage because we must have tried seven different positions last night – the sex has never been better!

Umm... maybe they'll name the baby Ikea?

Other snippets:

• I’ve now competent with the public transit system. Well, uh, less awkward at least.
• Package scare. Madre Jansen calls me and says, “Uh, the package I sent was delivered yesterday. They left it outside of the house on the side door. FIND IT!” Turns out that they left it on the side door of the house. Why? No clue. I think it was out there all night but someone brought it in eventually. Whew. This is after yesterday's package mishap where mom accidentally sent my stuff to my next door neighbor, Campus Crusade for Christ.
• Latin Night at Saloon was a hot mess. I had my “Oh my god where the heck did I move to?!" moment somewhere between the Latin room (where no one knew how to whine) and the karaoke room where the male cast of Friends was belching out golden oldies.
• There are so many bikers (bicyclists) here. A lot of them wear helmets too, which I find unusual as well. They tear down some of the streets like the apocalypse is nigh – I’m scared that I’m going to get hit one of these days.
• What really perturbs me is that the clubs here serve food. A girl was eating fries at the bar. Ew. “Girl you know your breath is hot.” One club even has computers. That’s right. Computers. People check their email up in the clubhouse – that’s just seven different forms of unacceptable.
• And finally, NASCAR came to downtown Minneapolis today. Why? I don't know. I don't question racecars in the middle of the city.

And I realize my posts are incoherent/in snippet format. Things will shape up once I get out of my wide-eyed tourist mode.

Son blog -> http://photographieauquotidien.blogspot.com/

Does John make flights to other countries to bring drugs back to the US? He says he does...he says it's for the "DEA"...Does the DEA know you make flights to smuggle illegal drugs for them? I'll bet that would come as a surprise to them! LOL!

See you there!

http://catharsis.scriptmania.com/

I was the girlfriend for 2 1/2 years of John Talmage, owner of MONTANA DIAMOND AIRE. From the stupid things he said, to the stupid things I believed. The lies he told, and illegal activities he and the vipers participate in. Join me on my stroll through a no holds barred journey full of the unvarnished truth, insight, laughter and tears. As much as I would like it to be, the information and stories contained within my site are not a work of fiction.

Does John make flights to other countries to bring drugs back to the US? He says he does...he says it's for the "DEA"...Does the DEA know you make flights to smuggle illegal drugs for them? I'll bet that would come as a surprise to them! LOL!

See you there!

http://catharsis.scriptmania.com/

Thursday - 10 p.m.

After an early afternoon arrival, Joe and I head to the harbor where we discover that Baltimore is an adorable combination of history, charm, and industry with an endless bounty of Irish pubs. We shoot the harbor, Fells Point, downtown, and some rooftop pans of the city from the top of a parking garage before settling into some good beer drinking. It's at "The Oldest Saloon in America" that I meet a gaggle of creepy dudes older than Joe that find me absolutely fascinating. Plus they're traveling on a boat, so I'm sold -- regardless of their apparent creepiness. Being the protective older-brother-type that he is, Joe puts a time limit on my increasingly bold flirtations with Billie, "The Goatee Guy," and the Bald Friend.

"I'm mean," I say to them, with my oh-so-cute little grin, "You don't want to hang with me."  I have recently found that the more you tell a dude to stay away from you, the more he digs you... It's a weird reverse-psychology reaction that, I'm starting to find, works quite nicely.

"I don't think so," Goatee Guy says. "I think you're sweet, and smart, and probably really fun."

Oh come on... who can resist some good old fashioned hard-core flattery? I continue to assure Goatee Guy and Bald Friend that I'm the raging bitch from hell, and they continue to assure me I'm wonderful. After several rounds of this ridiculousness, Joe tries to hustle me out the swinging saloon doors. But I'm drunk on their adoration... and vodka. We decide to go together to another bar down the street and play some pool...

Joe is neither amused nor drunk... But he goes along to babysit. I am grateful.

After a couple very strange games of pool where there is some sort of strained sexual tension in the air (maybe it's the phallic nature of the stick), I give Goatee Guy my phone number and tell him he won't call me the next night to go for a boat ride. I am finding this reverse-psychology tactic to be extremely effective.

Joe looks irritated and the number of creepy dudes in the bar is growing by the minute. To keep my colleague happy -- and to avoid any potential scenarios where I might be forced to kiss one of the creepy dudes -- Joe and I stumble out onto the damp streets towards the car. But not before Goatee Guy promises to call the next night to take me on a boat ride. I say "Yeah Right."

Just so you know -- he did call. Three times. Actually, he was still calling long after my return to the west coast. And I definitely sent it directly to voicemail every time. But I feel this story bears scrutiny for several reasons. 1.) Why did I feel the need to flirt with men I wasn't interested in who were clearly just out for a night in the gloryhole? And 2.) Why did it work?

The world of flirtation is a massive mystery to me. Not only do I generally do it poorly, but I am shocked when it works. Verbally bashing a man repeatedly is pretty much as good as it gets for me in terms of flirting. And as long as I do it with a smile, I seem to get by. But this recent tactic seems to work much better. Further research required.

And thus concludes the most exciting story from Baltimore -- and my musing on flirtations.