Posted on 04/02/2012 12:33:56 PM PDT by trailhkr1
Cops: Accused Prostitute Offered Undercover Officer Sex For Cheeseburgers Off McDonald's Dollar Menu
The woman, the detective reported, replied that the pair “could go have sexual intercourse if I bought her two double cheese burgers off the dollar menu at McDonald’s.” The cop added, “I agreed to the deal and purchased the hamburgers for $2.75.”
(Excerpt) Read more at thesmokinggun.com ...
I can give you some places to get herbal meds to help your joints, if you wish. I know what different seasons do to joints.
It’s good you have Fred to help you! I know he is aware of what you are enduring.
*hugs*
PS: The Stig is a singing fool! LOL!
When he molts, I miss him, even though he is 6” from me. Birds become almost ill when they molt; it takes so much out of them. I make sure he gets extra nutrition.
He is SUCH a companion!
When I can, I will get a harness and leash for him so I can take him outside.
Sure pm me the herbal meds info please!
Simple answer, we're hard to teach.
Let me put it this way;
Oops!
By accident we learn things,
Intentions hardly count.
All the stuff you know you’ll need,
Isn’t a large amount.
Pain we have still with us,
Our teacher from the start,
We might prefer such guidance had,
Not so perfected the art.
But what we learn by accident,
Is often worth much more,
The mysteries you bump into,
You won’t find in an open door.
NicknamedBob . . . . April 19, 2008
I always credit the guy who writes my poetry for me.
Hahahahaha! I have a brother who is like that! LOL!
All quiet on the Eastern front..... And a good morning to you all. I am going to bed to try and get some much needed s l e e p.......
Just practicing....
Ha! You may have created a monster!
Hope you got your well-deserved rest. Thank you for your help! ;)
Hey, Girl! How are you doing these days?
*hug*
I am so happy I could help you post pics. Sometimes a picture is worth well over 1,000 words. :-)
Aw, Sister Girl!
*hugs*
One of my nieces had a very traumatic childhood, and though she has spent years in therapy, she is often still depressed. Her therapist told her, “Do something for 15 minutes. That’s all. Just fifteen minutes. If you choose to put a load of clothes in the washer and call it a day, do that. If folding a load of clothes a day is your goal, do that. Maybe run one load of dishes through the washer. Maybe vacuum one room. Fifteen minutes a day. Every day. You will be surprised at what you can do in 15
Obviously, “doing one thing a day” is overwhelming for you, so if you break it down to “fifteen minutes a day” you might find the battle a little easier to “win.” Hang tough, Honey. You are always in my prayers.
LoM, if I had a way to get there, I would come and help you.
I know you are heartsick at his loss. He was one of a kind!
This:
Waiting in the WingsAnd maybe this, too:
Their life, that is in you, listens.
Their life, that is in you, hears.
Your life may seem drowning in sorrows,
Their life, is beyond any tears.
His smile is a shining remembrance,
His touch will forever, hold.
His will is that you should continue,
As each of you grows to be old.
His visage will fade only slightly,
As wear and tear takes its toll.
His words you’ll remember in fondness,
They’ll be prompting the lines for your role.
Her words will be singing forever,
Her presence will seem to be near.
She will be guiding and smiling,
And helping your joy to appear.
The parted are not so departed,
You can feel their connection to you.
Remember the good ways you journeyed,
And remember the bad times were few.
Their life, that is in you, listens.
Their life, that is in you, hears.
They’re waiting in wings for your solo,
And waiting to greet you with cheers.
NickamedBob . . . . . May 24, 2004
SolaceIt is troubling when all we have left are memories. But it is important to remember that all we are, are memories.
“How are things?” They say to me.
A pleasant friendly inquiry.
How can I tell them how I feel?
They did not know my dream was real.
They thought I seemed content until,
A sadness flooded in to fill,
This heart that you had dwelled inside,
And warmed me in the eventide.
They think that with you gone that I,
Can not find solace though I try.
That with an emptiness in me,
There is no room for ecstasy.
A hollow space would fill me up,
Prevent my drinking from the cup?
How can they think that you would go,
And not remain inside me so?
That you are with me even now,
Your hand in mine as we did vow.
We could not ever come apart,
Because we share each other’s heart.
Your laughter rings in silent rooms,
That others think are soundless tombs.
Your smile can brighten every day.
How can they think you’ve gone away?
My father walks beside me still,
He gives advice, and always will.
My mother sings as she once did,
When lifting up the stewpot’s lid.
The life she spent in serving others,
She gently nurtured in my brothers.
Indeed in all who came around,
Each came to find what she had found.
That life alone is but a seed,
Incapable of worthy deed.
But when the light of love shines in,
The roots take hold, the vines to spin,
Entangling all in matted grip,
That even death can not make slip.
The raindrop tears of daily woes,
Are soaked up in the childlike toes.
And winds of passion and of fear,
Which bring destruction circling near,
Are but the welcome cleansing breeze,
To wash the dust from sturdy trees.
No, I am never quite alone.
I’m filled inside with thoughts my own,
Of days spent laughing, having fun,
Relaxing when our work was done.
They see me smile and think that I,
Just reminisce of days gone by.
They cannot know I feel more joy,
Than when I was a little boy.
I knew not then that pain could hurt,
I didn’t know that girls could flirt,
There was a world I couldn’t see,
And now it lives inside of me.
My struggle now is just to show,
The happiness I’ve come to know.
How can I share with them this thrill?
The ones I love are with me still.
NicknamedBob . . . . . March 1, 2004
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