I truly believe you
I truly believe you


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smilele

Author:smilele
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bumps
I was just a small boy when our family dentist told my father it was imperative that he have his wisdom teeth taken out immediately. Fifty years later, my dad had them removed. My old-timer friend Earl once told me he never paid any mind to cholesterolmodular cubes store. “Hell,” he said, “when we were growin` up, we didn`t even know we had blood.” My own attitude toward health matters has been pretty similar. In Galveston or Padre Island, I`ve rarely bothered to apply suntan lotion unless it was to a shapely pair of legs obviously not belonging to me. In other words, I never gave much thought to saving my own skin. Then, things suddenly got serious as cancer nu skin.

Before my keyboard and I drown ourselves in intimations of mortalitycovers for samsung galaxy, let me say for the record that I`m not a hypochondriac, nor do I believe every word a doctor tells me. I`ve always possessed the two qualities that Ingrid Bergman claimed were essential to happiness: good health and bad memory. (At least I think it was Ingrid Bergman.) The fact is, sometimes if you ignore what a doctor tells you, everything will be fine. Other times you can answer that knock on the door and it`s an old man with a scythe selling Girl Scout cookies nuskin hk.

At any rate, about a month ago, I noticed that parts of my anatomy were beginning to resemble those of an ancient sea tortoise. My Doctorfashion men clothing wholesale, Doctor Quackenduck (I always thought Dr. Quackenduck was a good name for a Doctor), has a rather long waiting list, so I went to a new guy, Doctor Ineeda Porsche, a physician`s assistant recommended to me by a doctor friend of my fairy godmother`s. When I showed Ineeda Porsche what was troubling me, he waved his hand and said it was nothing, but he did find two or three other little growths that piqued his curiosity. He brought in another guy, who was wearing a rather elaborate pair of scuba goggles, and they studied the bumps togethernu skin group.



amazing song

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Homemade Pizza and Pasta Party
Last Friday we gathered at Jow's place to cook dinner. The menu: homemade pizzas and pasta. The pizzas were a variety of gourmet types based on the menu of Roberta's Pizza in Brooklyn, which Chow had tried on a recent visit.
The pasta was a homemade chorizo and butternut squash ravioli. And to top it off, I made kaffir lime cheesecake

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Friends gather around the large island in the kitchen, helping to prepare ingredients and eat appetizers. The ravioli are already prepared and drying and we were waiting for the oven to preheat for the pizzas.

For the pasta, I made homemade fresh (not dried) chorizo. I bought pork belly and ground it, adding paprika, garlic, and chili powder.




Browned the sausage in a pan, drained it on paper towels to remove the considerable grease, and then blended it with a butternut squash puree made from locally produced organic squash.

Notebook
Dawn was slow in coming; the stars were still brilliant and the trees were still withdrawn; no bird was calling, not even the small owls that rattled through the night from tree to tree. It was strangely quiet except for the roar of the sea. There was that smell of many flowers, rotting leaves and damp ground; earth was waiting for the dawn and the coming day; there was expectation, patience and a strange stillness. That stillness was love; it was not the love of something or of someone, the image and the symbol, the word and the pictures. It was simply love, without sentiment, without feeling. It was something complete in itself, naked, intense, without root and direction.

The sound of that faraway bird was that love; it was the direction and distance; it was there without time and word. It wasn’t an emotion that fades and is cruel; the symbol, the word can be substituted but not the thing. Being naked, it was utterly vulnerable and so indestructible. It had the unapproachable strength of that otherness, the unknowable, which was coming through the trees and beyond the sea. It was the sound of that bird calling out of the emptiness and the roar of the sea, thundering against the beach.
Love can only be in utter emptiness. The graying dawn was there far away on the horizon and the dark trees were even more dark and intense. There was death of everything known and the flowering of the unknown. The stars had faded and the clouds were awake with the coming sun.