then heard a good joke;
it left her in stitches.
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(British readers only)
that’s what it’s all aboutsunset
It’s a curious time of year –
the next cold and rainy;one night frosty, the next night mild;a pointed reminder that we’re about to beoverwhelmed by an abundance of beautywhich we call summer, and which –can we pretend we’ve earned?a little hesitancy on Nature’s part,a little touch of hope deferreddoes wonders for the grateful heart.
Some days I love crap sentiment
Some days I love silly pomes’cause I know it takes a happy man to be sillySome days I love rude messages’cause they’re a way of not saying loving, embarrassing thingsabout special peopleHi Jake
Praise be to Him,
who built into Adamthe Great Vibrator.
In the war-torn city, O My dearest one,
louder than the gunfire,louder than the bombscalling to Me; it isa man who kneels in prayerhe does not name his nationality,he does not name his faith,he does not name Me as his godhow clear his voice isas he calls to me
Looks like being a fine day; how red
The whistles blow.From the now almost home of the slit trenchOver the Top, boys! This is it!Soon back. The slit trenchis blessedly quieter nowin its six feet.