Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
The tradition of giving people presents on Christmas goes back to the very first one, when the three wise men brought baby Jesus an XBox Kinect. His body was the controller. And it was Sweet.
Ever since then the 25th of December has been celebrated by Christians and economists the world over, and we thought it only proper to join in the fun. Starting today and going through the holiday, we're giving YOU your perfect CHRISTMAS match. Seriously, we developed a special algorithm just for this.
NSman43 is today's match:
Yes, he's reading a similar message about you right now. He's cool, He's cute. Why not drop him a line?
All the best and, seriously, Merry Christmas,
Not to sound vain and self centered, but seriously??? this is my perfect Christmas match??????
I'm over a cold, I had been fighting and so very happy to be back in the gym and back on my regular food regimen. It always amazes me how drastically my mood alters after a few missed workouts or when I veering from the diet plan!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
I'd just finished "She Always Knew How: Mae West, a Personal Biography" (quote: I was never vulgar. The word for me was suggestive.") So she'd naturally been on my mind....
Thursday, December 2, 2010
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of Earth, 'twas permitted to rest,
And in the depths of the ocean its presence confessed;
'Twill be found in the sphere when 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder;
'Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath,
Attends him at birth and awaits him at death,
Presides o'er his happiness, honor and health,
Is the prop of his house and the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser, 'tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost on his prodigal heir;
It begins every hope, every wish it must bound;
With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crowned;
Without it the soldier and seaman may roam,
But woe to the wretch who expels it from home!
In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e'er in the whirlwind of passion be drowned;
'Twill soften the heart; but though deaf be the ear,
It will make him acutely and instantly hear.
Set in shade, let it rest like a delicate flower;
Ah! Breath on it softly, it dies in an hour.