If there's one thing I can be sure of Pelosi is well past her sale by date.
I don't know what's worse, her or her voters.
If I went into the shop and saw a pasty all grey and green with mould I wouldn't even need to look for the date stamp to know it's gone off.
She's well with in that category. She's past the post. Singular is a complement. She's so gone off she's off her rocker.
The problem is liberal elites like her are deprived of the trials of existence. As soon as her servants sees the slightest hint of off colour they throw it away before she sees it.
Now after her life of luxury her senses failing she'll never enjoy them to the full but her imagination fills in relentlessly. I'm sure her fantasy world is amazing but it's not the one the rest of us resides upon.
She will die very lonely stuck in the hell of her creation. A world filled with people, infinite people but none of them real and then she'll spend the rest of her eternity rummaging through her own fantasy world trying to find someone other than that of her own imagining. She will never abandon herself and in doing so she will never leave her own pathetic little world.
I originate from my mother. I had no choice in the matter.
A true man of Britain is his own castle.
He may roam the lands those to which we are familiar and those to which are new found but he himself is an Island, a land, a continent and an entire world.
The true British took on the world and defeated much of it on even terms and in doing to proved some of those among us are a world unto themselves but sadly in any given world most among it are part yet not the parcel.
Of all the things there are the only thing you can be sure of and that you are in full possession of is yourself.
Discover that treasure before moving on to others.
Sadly the sorrowful tale of the common man is for another to find their own treasure before they might find it themselves.
Most men quite sadly lose possession of themselves long before their time has run out.
Also I don't read books so much so don't know this poem that comes up in search. Seems defeatist to me. Like depression. A superfluous way of saying we're all just a cog in the machine or a leaf in the wind. We call that sort of tiny thing, taking a basic obvious thing but then dressing it up to try to make it something big, gay.
Though I must confess their comes a point of mastery where we risk our fate for that of others.
I don't know what I support other than this...
If there's one thing I can be sure of Pelosi is well past her sale by date.
I don't know what's worse, her or her voters.
If I went into the shop and saw a pasty all grey and green with mould I wouldn't even need to look for the date stamp to know it's gone off.
She's well with in that category. She's past the post. Singular is a complement. She's so gone off she's off her rocker.
The problem is liberal elites like her are deprived of the trials of existence. As soon as her servants sees the slightest hint of off colour they throw it away before she sees it.
Now after her life of luxury her senses failing she'll never enjoy them to the full but her imagination fills in relentlessly. I'm sure her fantasy world is amazing but it's not the one the rest of us resides upon.
She will die very lonely stuck in the hell of her creation. A world filled with people, infinite people but none of them real and then she'll spend the rest of her eternity rummaging through her own fantasy world trying to find someone other than that of her own imagining. She will never abandon herself and in doing so she will never leave her own pathetic little world.
Lol.... you Canadian or British?
I originate from my mother. I had no choice in the matter.
A true man of Britain is his own castle.
He may roam the lands those to which we are familiar and those to which are new found but he himself is an Island, a land, a continent and an entire world.
The true British took on the world and defeated much of it on even terms and in doing to proved some of those among us are a world unto themselves but sadly in any given world most among it are part yet not the parcel.
No man is an island
Yes and no.
Of all the things there are the only thing you can be sure of and that you are in full possession of is yourself.
Discover that treasure before moving on to others.
Sadly the sorrowful tale of the common man is for another to find their own treasure before they might find it themselves.
Most men quite sadly lose possession of themselves long before their time has run out.
Also I don't read books so much so don't know this poem that comes up in search. Seems defeatist to me. Like depression. A superfluous way of saying we're all just a cog in the machine or a leaf in the wind. We call that sort of tiny thing, taking a basic obvious thing but then dressing it up to try to make it something big, gay.
Though I must confess their comes a point of mastery where we risk our fate for that of others.
(fat nadler waddles into the chat)
But some hams are a planet.
I like your name haha
Pasty. Off her rocker. Rummage. A touch of Monty Python flair. Gotta be a Brit.