Antarctica2nd quest is harder than 1st quest, so it could actually affect your gameplay, your category is just a mix of two categories without adding much. You might as well just play the other category
OMG ITS Bandi_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
How do i stop the joker from doing the gritty after he punches the cop? Am i stupid?
That happens when you hold the gyro over a checkpoint flag would be before you load in
(the gyro is the pointer used to interact with the items on screen)
There wasn't a bird in the sky, but that was not what caught her attention. It was the clouds. The deep green that isn't the color of clouds, but came with these. She knew what was coming and she hoped she was prepared.
It was that terrifying feeling you have as you tightly hold the covers over you with the knowledge that there is something hiding under your bed. You want to look, but you don't at the same time. You're frozen with fear and unable to act. That's where she found herself and she didn't know what to do next
They told her that this was her once chance to show the world what she was made of. She believed them at the time. It was the big stage and she knew the world would be there to see. The only one who had disagreed with this sentiment was her brother. He had told her that you don't show the world what you're made of when they are all watching, you show that in your actions when nobody was looking. It was looking more and more like her brother was correct.
He stared out the window at the snowy field. He'd been stuck in the house for close to a month and his only view of the outside world was through the window. There wasn't much to see. It was mostly just the field with an occasional bird or small animal who ventured into the field. As he continued to stare out the window, he wondered how much longer he'd be shackled to the steel bar inside the house.
Peter always saw the world in black and white. There were two choices for every situation and you had to choose one of them. It was therefore terribly uncomfortable for him to spend time with Ashley. She saw the world in shades of gray with hundreds of choices to choose from in every situation.
The chair sat in the corner where it had been for over 25 years. The only difference was there was someone actually sitting in it. How long had it been since someone had done that? Ten years or more he imagined. Yet there was no denying the presence in the chair now.
He dropped the ball. While most people would think that this was a metaphor of some type, in Joe's case it was absolutely literal. He had hopes of reaching the Major League and that dream was now it great jeopardy. All because he had dropped the ball.
She counted. One. She could hear the steps coming closer. Two. Puffs of breath could be seen coming from his mouth. Three. He stopped beside her. Four. She pulled the trigger of the gun.
She was aware that things could go wrong. In fact, she had trained her entire life in anticipation that things would go wrong one day. She had quiet confidence as she started to see that this was the day that all her training would be worthwhile and useful. At this point, she had no idea just how wrong everything would go that day.
There wasn't a whole lot more that could be done. It had become a wait-and-see situation with the final results no longer in her control. That didn't stop her from trying to control the situation. She demanded that things be done as she desperately tried to control what couldn't be.
The desert wind blew the tumbleweed in front of the car. Alex swerved to avoid the tumbleweed, but he turned the wheel a bit too strong and the car left the road and skidded onto the dirt median. He instantly slammed on the brakes and the car stopped in a cloud of dirt. When the dust cloud had settled and he could see around him again, he realized that he'd somehow crossed over into an entirely new dimension.
The leather jacked showed the scars of being his favorite for years. It wore those scars with pride, feeling that they enhanced his presence rather than diminishing it. The scars gave it character and had not overwhelmed to the point that it had become ratty. The jacket was in its prime and it knew it.
It probably seemed trivial to most people, but it mattered to Tracey. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but she understood deep within her being that it mattered to her. So for the 365th day in a row, Tracey sat down to eat pancakes for breakfast.
She patiently waited for his number to be called. She had no desire to be there, but her mom had insisted that she go. She's resisted at first, but over time she realized it was simply easier to appease her and go. Mom tended to be that way. She would keep insisting until you wore down and did what she wanted. So, here she sat, patiently waiting for her number to be called.
What if dogs were racist? Would they care about fur color….. “son, only play with other tan dogs”? Or maybe it would depend on breed, “honey, only play with other German Shepards, never poodles”. Better yet it could depend on occupation. “I’m a sled dog while you’re only a running companion, leave me alone”. Maybe the neighborhood they live in could be the way they choose which dogs to associate with and which to shun? Size could be the determining factor, “see how tall that dog is, they are probably dumb”. Luckily dogs don’t discriminate. Just watch at a dog park. Big black and white dogs wag their tails and play with tiny tan dogs. A service dog chases after the same ball as the off-duty police dog. So if dogs don’t discriminate then why do we?
They argue. While the argument seems to be different the truth is it's always the same. Yes, the topic may be different or the circumstances, but when all said and done, it all came back to the same thing. They both knew it, but neither has the courage or strength to address the underlying issue. So they continue to argue.
With six children in tow, Catherine raced to the airport departing gate. This wasn't an easy task as the children had other priorities than to get to the gate. She knew that she was tight on time and the frustration came out as she yelled at the kids to keep up. They continued to test her, pretending not to listen and to move in directions that only slowed them down. They had no idea the wrath they were about to receive when Catherine made it to the gate only to be informed that they had all missed the plane.
Why do Americans have so many different types of towels? We have beach towels, hand towels, bath towels, dish towels, camping towels, quick-dry towels, and let’s not forget paper towels. Would 1 type of towel work for each of these things? Let’s take a beach towel. It can be used to dry your hands and body with no difficulty. A beach towel could be used to dry dishes. Just think how many dishes you could dry with one beach towel. I’ve used a beach towel with no adverse effects while camping. If you buy a thin beach towel it can dry quickly too. I’d probably cut up a beach towel to wipe down counters or for cleaning other items, but a full beach towel could be used too. Is having so many types of towels an extravagant luxury that Americans enjoy or is it necessary? I’d say it's overkill and we could cut down on the many types of towels that manufacturers deem necessary.
There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.
It was difficult to explain to them how the diagnosis of certain death had actually given him life. While everyone around him was in tears and upset, he actually felt more at ease. The doctor said it would be less than a year. That gave him a year to live, something he'd failed to do with his daily drudgery of a routine that had passed as life until then.
It was difficult for him to admit he was wrong. He had been so certain that he was correct and the deeply held belief could never be shaken. Yet the proof that he had been incorrect stood right before his eyes. "See daddy, I told you that they are real!" his daughter excitedly proclaimed.
It was the first day of the rest of her life. This wasn't the day she was actually born, but she knew that nothing would be the same from this day forward. Although this was a bit scary to her, it was also extremely freeing. Her past was no longer a burden or something that she needed to be concerned about and defend. She threw off the covers keeping her warm in bed, placed her feet over the side of the bed, slipped on her slipper, and took the first step of the first day of her new life.
He swung back the fishing pole and cast the line which ell 25 feet away into the river. The lure landed in the perfect spot and he was sure he would soon get a bite. He never expected that the bite would come from behind in the form of a bear.
Nobody really understood Kevin. It wasn't that he was super strange or difficult. It was more that there wasn't enough there that anyone wanted to take the time to understand him. This was a shame as Kevin had many of the answers to the important questions most people who knew him had. It was even more of a shame that they'd refuse to listen even if Kevin offered to give them the answers. So, Kevin remained silent, misunderstood, and kept those important answers to life to himself.
There were two things that were important to Tracey. The first was her dog. Anyone that had ever met Tracey knew how much she loved her dog. Most would say that she treated it as her child. The dog went everywhere with her and it had been her best friend for the past five years. The second thing that was important to Tracey, however, would be a lot more surprising to most people.
There was little doubt that the bridge was unsafe. All one had to do was look at it to know that with certainty. Yet Bob didn't see another option. He may have been able to work one out if he had a bit of time to think things through, but time was something he didn't have. A choice needed to be made, and it needed to be made quickly.
"It's never good to give them details," Janice told her sister. "Always be a little vague and keep them guessing." Her sister listened intently and nodded in agreement. She didn't fully understand what her sister was saying but that didn't matter. She loved her so much that she would have agreed to whatever came out of her mouth.
He had disappointed himself more than anyone else. That wasn't to say that he hadn't disappointed others. The fact was that he had disappointed a lot of people who were close to him. The fact that they were disappointed in him was something that made him even more disappointed in himself. Yet here he was, about to do the exact same things that had caused all the disappointment in the first place because he didn't know what else to do.
Pink ponies and purple giraffes roamed the field. Cotton candy grew from the ground as a chocolate river meandered off to the side. What looked like stones in the pasture were actually rock candy. Everything in her dream seemed to be perfect except for the fact that she had no mouth.
MaryLou wore the tiara with pride. There was something that made doing anything she didn't really want to do a bit easier when she wore it. She really didn't care what those staring through the window were thinking as she vacuumed her apartment.
What were the chances? It would have to be a lot more than 100 to 1. It was likely even more than 1,000 to 1. The more he thought about it, the odds of it happening had to be more than 10,000 to 1 and even 100,000 to 1. People often threw around the chances of something happening as being 1,000,000 to 1 as an exaggeration of an unlikely event, but he could see that they may actually be accurate in this situation. Whatever the odds of it happening, he knew they were big. What he didn't know was whether this happening was lucky or unlucky.
Betty was a creature of habit and she thought she liked it that way. That was until Dave showed up in her life. She now had a choice to make and it would determine whether her lie remained the same or if it would change forever.
After hunting for several hours, we finally saw a large seal sunning itself on a flat rock. I took one of the wooden clubs while Larry took the longer one. We slowly snuck up behind the seal until we were close enough to club it over its head. The seal slumped over and died. This seal would help us survive. We could eat the meat and fat. The fat could be burned in a shell for light and the fur could be used to make a blanket. We declared our first day of hunting a great success.
"So, what do you think?" he asked nervously. He wanted to know the answer, but at the same time, he didn't. He'd put his heart and soul into the project and he wasn't sure he'd be able to recover if they didn't like what he produced. The silence from the others in the room seemed to last a lifetime even though it had only been a moment since he asked the question. "So, what do you think?" he asked again.
It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.
The bowl was filled with fruit. It seemed to be an overabundance of strawberries, but it also included blueberries, raspberries, grapes, and banana slices. This was the meal Sarah had every morning to start her day since she could remember. Why she decided to add chocolate as an option today was still a bit of a surprise, but she had been in the process of deciding she wanted to change her routine. This was a baby step to begin that start.
"Explain to me again why I shouldn't cheat?" he asked. "All the others do and nobody ever gets punished for doing so. I should go about being happy losing to cheaters because I know that I don't? That's what you're telling me?"
Josh had spent year and year accumulating the information. He knew it inside out and if there was ever anyone looking for an expert in the field, Josh would be the one to call. The problem was that there was nobody interested in the information besides him and he knew it. Years of information painstakingly memorized and sorted with not a sole giving even an ounce of interest in the topic.
She had been told time and time again that the most important steps were the first and the last. It was something that she carried within her in everything she did, but then he showed up and disrupted everything. He told her that she had it wrong. The first step wasn't the most important. The last step wasn't the most important. It was the next step that was the most important.
Sometimes it's just better not to be seen. That's how Harry had always lived his life. He prided himself as being the fly on the wall and the fae that blended into the crowd. That's why he was so shocked that she noticed him.
The drug seekers would come into the emergency room and scream about how much pain they were in. When you told them that you would start elevating their pain with Tylenol or Advil instead of a narcotic they became nasty and combative. They would start telling you what drug and dose they had to have to make their pain tolerable. After dealing with the same drug seekers several times a month it gets old. Some of the doctors would give in and give them a dose of morphine and send them away. Sure that was faster, but ethically she still couldn’t do it. Perhaps that’s why she had longer care times than the other doctors.
All he could think about was how it would all end. There was still a bit of uncertainty in the equation, but the basics were there for anyone to see. No matter how much he tried to see the positive, it wasn't anywhere to be seen. The end was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty.
There was something special about this little creature. Donna couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but she knew with all her heart that it was true. It wasn't a matter of if she was going to try and save it, but a matter of how she was going to save it. She went back to the car to get a blanket and when she returned the creature was gone.
There were little things that she simply could not stand. The sound of someone tapping their nails on the table. A person chewing with their mouth open. Another human imposing themselves into her space. She couldn't stand any of these things, but none of them compared to the number one thing she couldn't stand which topped all of them combined.
The tree missed the days the kids used to come by and play. It still wore the tire swing the kids had put up in its branches years ago although both the tire and the rope had seen better days. The tree had watched all the kids in the neighborhood grow up and leave, and it wondered if there would ever be a time when another child played and laughed again under its branches. That was the hope that the tree wished every day as the swing gently swung empty in the wind.
He stepped away from the mic. This was the best take he had done so far, but something seemed missing. Then it struck him all at once. Visuals ran in front of his eyes and music rang in his ears. His eager fingers went to work in an attempt to capture his thoughts hoping the results would produce something that was at least half their glory.
Life isn't always beautiful. That was a lesson that Dan was learning. He also realized that life wasn't easy. This had come as a shock since he had lived a charmed life. He hated that this was the truth and he struggled to be happy knowing that his assumptions weren't correct. He wouldn't realize until much later in life that the difficult obstacles he was facing that were taking away the beauty in his life at this moment would ultimately make his life much more beautiful. All he knew was that at this moment was that life isn't always beautiful.
It wasn't that he hated her. It was simply that he didn't like her much. It was difficult for him to explain this to her, and even more difficult for her to truly understand. She was in love and wanted him to feel the same way. He didn't, and no matter how he tried to explain to her she refused to listen or to understand.
She had come to the conclusion that you could tell a lot about a person by their ears. The way they stuck out and the size of the earlobes could give you wonderful insights into the person. Of course, she couldn't scientifically prove any of this, but that didn't matter to her. Before anything else, she would size up the ears of the person she was talking to.
She never liked cleaning the sink. It was beyond her comprehension how it got so dirty so quickly. It seemed that she was forced to clean it every other day. Even when she was extra careful to keep things clean and orderly, it still ended up looking like a mess in a couple of days. What she didn't know was there was a tiny creature living in it that didn't like things neat.
I'm going to hire professional help tomorrow. I can't handle this anymore. She fell over the coffee table and now there is blood in her catheter. This is much more than I ever signed up to do.
MaryLou wore the tiara with pride. There was something that made doing anything she didn't really want to do a bit easier when she wore it. She really didn't care what those staring through the window were thinking as she vacuumed her apartment.
How had she been so wrong? All her instincts and intuition completely failed her for the first time in her life. She had so heavily relied on both when making decisions up until this moment and she felt a seismic shift take place in her self-confidence. If she could be so completely wrong about something so simple as this, how could she make decisions about really important things taking place in her life? She wasn't sure what she should do next.
The clowns had taken over. And yes, they were literally clowns. Over 100 had appeared out of a small VW bug that had been driven up to the bank. Now they were all inside and had taken it over.
I guess we could discuss the implications of the phrase "meant to be." That is if we wanted to drown ourselves in a sea of backwardly referential semantics and other mumbo-jumbo. Maybe such a discussion would result in the determination that "meant to be" is exactly as meaningless a phrase as it seems to be, and that none of us is actually meant to be doing anything at all. But that's my existential underpants underpinnings showing. It's the way the cookie crumbles. And now I want a cookie.
She was aware that things could go wrong. In fact, she had trained her entire life in anticipation that things would go wrong one day. She had quiet confidence as she started to see that this was the day that all her training would be worthwhile and useful. At this point, she had no idea just how wrong everything would go that day.
Although Scott said it didn't matter to him, he knew deep inside that it did. They had been friends as long as he could remember and not once had he had to protest that something Joe apologized for doing didn't really matter. Scott stuck to his lie and insisted again and again that everything was fine as Joe continued to apologize. Scott already knew that despite his words accepting the apologies that their friendship would never be the same.
There once lived an old man and an old woman who were peasants and had to work hard to earn their daily bread. The old man used to go to fix fences and do other odd jobs for the farmers around, and while he was gone the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their own little plot of land.
He couldn't remember exactly where he had read it, but he was sure that he had. The fact that she didn't believe him was quite frustrating as he began to search the Internet to find the article. It wasn't as if it was something that seemed impossible. Yet she insisted on always seeing the source whenever he stated a fact.
I recollect that my first exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes.
She tried not to judge him. His ratty clothes and unkempt hair made him look homeless. Was he really the next Einstein as she had been told? On the off chance it was true, she continued to try not to judge him.
The amber droplet hung from the branch, reaching fullness and ready to drop. It waited. While many of the other droplets were satisfied to form as big as they could and release, this droplet had other plans. It wanted to be part of history. It wanted to be remembered long after all the other droplets had dissolved into history. So it waited for the perfect specimen to fly by to trap and capture that it hoped would eventually be discovered hundreds of years in the future.
At that moment he had a thought that he'd never imagine he'd consider. "I could just cheat," he thought, "and that would solve the problem." He tried to move on from the thought but it was persistent. It didn't want to go away and, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want it to.
There was only half a worm in the apple. At first, Judy didn't quite comprehend what this meant. "Why would only half a worm be living in an apple?" she wondered. And then it dawned on her. Judy quickly spit out the bite she had just taken expecting to see the other half of the worm. It ended up being much worse than that.
Stormi is a dog. She is dark grey and has long legs. Her eyes are expressive and are able to let her humans know what she is thinking. Her tongue is long, pink, and wet. Her long legs allow her to sprint after other dogs, people or bunnies. She can be a good dog, but also very bad. Her tail wags when happy or excited and hides between her back legs when she is bad. Stormi is a dog I love.
Why do Americans have so many different types of towels? We have beach towels, hand towels, bath towels, dish towels, camping towels, quick-dry towels, and let’s not forget paper towels. Would 1 type of towel work for each of these things? Let’s take a beach towel. It can be used to dry your hands and body with no difficulty. A beach towel could be used to dry dishes. Just think how many dishes you could dry with one beach towel. I’ve used a beach towel with no adverse effects while camping. If you buy a thin beach towel it can dry quickly too. I’d probably cut up a beach towel to wipe down counters or for cleaning other items, but a full beach towel could be used too. Is having so many types of towels an extravagant luxury that Americans enjoy or is it necessary? I’d say it's overkill and we could cut down on the many types of towels that manufacturers deem necessary.
The trees, therefore, must be such old and primitive techniques that they thought nothing of them, deeming them so inconsequential that even savages like us would know of them and not be suspicious. At that, they probably didn't have too much time after they detected us orbiting and intending to land. And if that were true, there could be only one place where their civilization was hidden.
He slowly poured the drink over a large chunk of ice he has especially chiseled off a larger block. He didn't particularly like his drinks cold, but he knew that the drama of chiseling the ice and then pouring a drink over it looked far more impressive than how he actually liked it. It was all about image and he'd managed to perfect the image that he wanted to project.
Breastfeeding is good for babies and moms. Infants that are breastfed get antibodies from their mothers against common illnesses. Breastfed babies have less chance of being obese as an adult. Breastfeeding a baby lets the infant-mother pair bond in a very unique way. Mother’s who breastfeed lower their chances of developing breast cancer. Usually, mothers who breastfeed lose their pregnancy weight more quickly and easily. The benefits of breastfeeding are numerous.
The spot was perfect for camouflage. At least that's what she thought when she picked the spot. She couldn't imagine that anyone would ever be able to see her in these surroundings. So there she sat, confident that she was hidden from the world and safe from danger. Unfortunately, she had not anticipated that others may be looking upon her from other angles, and now they were stealthily descending toward her hiding spot.
There was only one way to do things in the Statton house. That one way was to do exactly what the father, Charlie, demanded. He made the decisions and everyone else followed without question. That was until today.
Finding the red rose in the mailbox was a pleasant surprise for Sarah. She didn't have a boyfriend or know of anyone who was interested in her as anything more than a friend. There wasn't even a note attached to it. Although it was a complete mystery, it still made her heart jump and race a little more than usual. She wished that she could simply accept the gesture and be content knowing someone had given it to her, but that wasn't the way Sarah did things. Now it was time to do a little detective work and try to figure who had actually left the red rose.
The time had come for Nancy to say goodbye. She had been dreading this moment for a good six months, and it had finally arrived despite her best efforts to forestall it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. So the time had come for a normal person to say goodbye and move on. It was at this moment that Nancy decided not to be a normal person. After all the time and effort she had expended, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She patiently waited for his number to be called. She had no desire to be there, but her mom had insisted that she go. She's resisted at first, but over time she realized it was simply easier to appease her and go. Mom tended to be that way. She would keep insisting until you wore down and did what she wanted. So, here she sat, patiently waiting for her number to be called.
Sarah watched the whirlpool mesmerized. She couldn't take her eyes off the water swirling around and around. She stuck in small twigs and leaves to watch the whirlpool catch them and then suck them down. It bothered her more than a little bit that this could also be used as a metaphor for her life.
The lone lamp post of the one-street town flickered, not quite dead but definitely on its way out. Suitcase by her side, she paid no heed to the light, the street or the town. A car was coming down the street and with her arm outstretched and thumb in the air, she had a plan.
She sat in the darkened room waiting. It was now a standoff. He had the power to put her in the room, but not the power to make her repent. It wasn't fair and no matter how long she had to endure the darkness, she wouldn't change her attitude. At three years old, Sandy's stubborn personality had already bloomed into full view.
He walked down the steps from the train station in a bit of a hurry knowing the secrets in the briefcase must be secured as quickly as possible. Bounding down the steps, he heard something behind him and quickly turned in a panic. There was nobody there but a pair of old worn-out shoes were placed neatly on the steps he had just come down. Had he past them without seeing them? It didn't seem possible. He was about to turn and be on his way when a deep chill filled his body.
He sat across from her trying to imagine it was the first time. It wasn't. Had it been a hundred? It quite possibly could have been. Two hundred? Probably not. His mind wandered until he caught himself and again tried to imagine it was the first time.
I recently discovered I could make fudge with just chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla extract, and a thick pot on slow heat. I tried it with dark chocolate chunks and I tried it with semi-sweet chocolate chips. It's better with both kinds. It comes out pretty bad with just the dark chocolate. The best add-ins are crushed almonds and marshmallows -- what you get from that is Rocky Road. It takes about twenty minutes from start to fridge, and then it takes about six months to work off the twenty pounds you gain from eating it. All things in moderation, friends. All things in moderation.
There was a time and a place for Stephanie to use her magic. The problem was that she had a difficult time determining this. She wished she could simply use it when the desire hit and there wouldn't be any unforeseen consequences. Unfortunately, that's not how it worked and the consequences could be devastating if she accidentally used her magic at the wrong time.
Dave watched as the forest burned up on the hill, only a few miles from her house. The car had been hastily packed and Marta was inside trying to round up the last of the pets. Dave went through his mental list of the most important papers and documents that they couldn't leave behind. He scolded himself for not having prepared these better in advance and hoped that he had remembered everything that was needed. He continued to wait for Marta to appear with the pets, but she still was nowhere to be seen.
The desert wind blew the tumbleweed in front of the car. Alex swerved to avoid the tumbleweed, but he turned the wheel a bit too strong and the car left the road and skidded onto the dirt median. He instantly slammed on the brakes and the car stopped in a cloud of dirt. When the dust cloud had settled and he could see around him again, he realized that he'd somehow crossed over into an entirely new dimension.
Samantha wanted to be famous. The problem was that she had never considered all the downsides to actually being famous. Had she taken the time to objectively consider these downsides, she would have never agreed to publically sing that first song.
It was a good idea. At least, they all thought it was a good idea at the time. Hindsight would reveal that in reality, it was an unbelievably terrible idea, but it would take another week for them to understand that. Right now, at this very moment. they all agreed that it was the perfect course of action for the current situation.
It really doesn't matter what she thinks as it isn't her problem to solve. That's what he kept trying to convince himself. She was trying to insert her opinion where it wasn't wanted or welcome. He already had a plan and even though that plan didn't correspond with what she wanted him to do or what should be done, it wasn't her decision to make. The question now became whether he would stick to his convictions and go through with his plan knowing she wouldn't approve.
They argue. While the argument seems to be different the truth is it's always the same. Yes, the topic may be different or the circumstances, but when all said and done, it all came back to the same thing. They both knew it, but neither has the courage or strength to address the underlying issue. So they continue to argue.
It seemed like it should have been so simple. There was nothing inherently difficult with getting the project done. It was simple and straightforward enough that even a child should have been able to complete it on time, but that wasn't the case. The deadline had arrived and the project remained unfinished.
The trail to the left had a "Danger! Do Not Pass" sign telling people to take the trail to the right. This wasn't the way Zeke approached his hiking. Rather than a warning, Zeke read the sign as an invitation to explore an area that would be adventurous and exciting. As the others in the group all shited to the right, Zeke slipped past the danger sign to begin an adventure he would later regret.
He had done everything right. There had been no mistakes throughout the entire process. It had been perfection and he knew it without a doubt, but the results still stared back at him with the fact that he had lost.
She didn't like the food. She never did. She made the usual complaints and started the tantrum he knew was coming. But this time was different. Instead of trying to placate her and her unreasonable demands, he just stared at her and watched her meltdown without saying a word.
The wolves stopped in their tracks, sizing up the mother and her cubs. It had been over a week since their last meal and they were getting desperate. The cubs would make a good meal, but there were high risks taking on the mother Grizzly. A decision had to be made and the wrong choice could signal the end of the pack.
Wandering down the path to the pond had become a daily routine. Even when the weather wasn't cooperating like today with the wind and rain, Jerry still took the morning stroll down the path until he reached the pond. Although there didn't seem to be a particular reason Jerry did this to anyone looking in from the outside, those who knew him well knew exactly what was going on. It could all be traced back to a specific incident that happened exactly 5 years previously.
Stranded. Yes, she was now the first person ever to land on Venus, but that was of little consequence. Her name would be read by millions in school as the first to land here, but that celebrity would never actually be seen by her. She looked at the control panel and knew there was nothing that would ever get it back into working order. She was the first and it was not clear this would also be her last.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try.
There were about twenty people on the dam. Most of them were simply walking and getting exercise. There were a few who were fishing. There was a family who had laid down a blanket and they were having a picnic. It was like this most days and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The problem was that nobody noticed the water leaking through the dam wall.
What if dogs were racist? Would they care about fur color….. “son, only play with other tan dogs”? Or maybe it would depend on breed, “honey, only play with other German Shepards, never poodles”. Better yet it could depend on occupation. “I’m a sled dog while you’re only a running companion, leave me alone”. Maybe the neighborhood they live in could be the way they choose which dogs to associate with and which to shun? Size could be the determining factor, “see how tall that dog is, they are probably dumb”. Luckily dogs don’t discriminate. Just watch at a dog park. Big black and white dogs wag their tails and play with tiny tan dogs. A service dog chases after the same ball as the off-duty police dog. So if dogs don’t discriminate then why do we?
He picked up the burnt end of the branch and made a mark on the stone. Day 52 if the marks on the stone were accurate. He couldn't be sure. Day and nights had begun to blend together creating confusion, but he knew it was a long time. Much too long.
Her eyebrows were a shade darker than her hair. They were thick and almost horizontal, emphasizing the depth of her eyes. She was rather handsome than beautiful. Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features. Her manner was engaging.
The words hadn't flowed from his fingers for the past few weeks. He never imagined he'd find himself with writer's block, but here he sat with a blank screen in front of him. That blank screen taunting him day after day had started to play with his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't even type a single word, just one to begin the process and build from there. And yet, he already knew that the eight hours he was prepared to sit in front of his computer today would end with the screen remaining blank.
