Ho ho ho: Santa has come and gone. The gift wrap has been picked up off of the floor. The fine food that you ate on Christmas Day is now leftovers, which can be even more pleasurable to eat than they were the first time out. The credit cards are maxed out. The bank accounts have been drained. There is no gas in the car; you are stuck at home, until you figure out a way to borrow more money. You can't wait for New Year's Eve, even though you know that you are going to be supremely hungover on New Year's Day; but there is football to save you, and if it doesn't you can always panhandle: http://www.wikihow.com/Panhandle
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Happy Kwanzaa http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kwanzaa
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I'm a pet lover, but I'm not sure what I think about this:
I think that death is overpriced; human, and animals,
that man always figures out a way to make a buck. There
is nothing wrong with money, Lord knows I don't have
much of it, but there are limits to what I would do to make it.
The death industry mostly plays on human emotions to get
you to open your wallet, or pocketbook: "You loved your wife,
or husband, or grandfather, didn't you? You don't want to put
them in a cheap box? He, or she, must have piped in music."
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"Under the new policy, outlined in a Medicare regulation, the government will pay doctors who advise patients on options for end-of-life care, which may include advance directives to forgo aggressive life-sustaining treatment."
Read more:
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I, recently, bought a store brand antihistamine, active ingredient Loratadine. I had been buying a store brand from another pharmacy; that pill didn't work very well, and the packaging was awful; the pill was almost impossible to get into. Funny how one store brand product is better than another.
It is these darn dogs, and cats, that make me need an antihistamine. They drop hair everywhere. Should I just shave all their hair off; would that keep me from having a runny nose, itchy, and watery eyes, itchy nose, and from sneezing?
Kobain puked on the bed, earlier this morning. He woke me up doing it. Kobain always pukes up his hairballs on the bed. I don't know what is up with that. He has a whole shotgun apartment laden full of dog and cat hair to woof on, and he has to come up onto my comfortable bed to do it.
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I ran across this, while waiting to talk to Mecicare, on the telephone, and thought that it was quite amusing. You can find anything on Google: "Deliver orgasms. Explore her body to see how you can do so; even if it means going downtown."
Go Downtown: http://www.articlesbase.com/dating-articles/how-to-get-a-girl-to-have-sex-with-you-396554.html
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The Daily K Poem of The Day
Whisper when you want to scream
I'm not sure, but words may linger
where they are spoken, and if they are screamed
they also linger, but not as quietly.
Words that are screamed hold their anger,
and fifteen minutes later, a day later,
a week, a month, all the years until the screamer dies
those words hang there, angrily in the air where they
were shouted out, drowning out words of love,
and regular words that are lingering, too.
--Mikel K
Namaste,
Mikel K
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