View allAll Photos Tagged Blaming!
But pondering what ? He stood there unmoving for the better part of a half hour. Can't blame him as it was an enchanting evening.
Some of Wisconsin Central's business train was hitching a ride south to Chicago for an upcoming OCS with the Map and Flag specially painted GP40-2s behind a pair of former Santa Fe SD45s at Buffalo Grove in 1998.
Soon, Metra would add a second main line here, WC would paint that second motor, and then Canadian National would come along and mess it all up.
For the next few months, Manildra Group at Nowra will be sourcing their grain from imports from Canada. 300 HPCU Grain containers have been purchased to be hauled between the Quattro Port at Port Kembla and Nowra.
3930 from Quattro Port to Nowra is seen approaching Berry at with 8161, 8125, 8170 and 8172 and 52 wagons of containerised grain to use at the Bomaderry Starch plant.
2019-06-30 Pacific National 8161-8125-8170-8172 Berry 3930
This is the story of two lovers like twins
They would do lovers things blame original sin
Look into their eyes only for the meaning of the hour
As if there only everything existed in their power, yet
Lo and behold they drifted of a stream humming
How does it go? Oh 'Life is but a dream'
Well the steam became a river and the river start to tow
They, they didn't notice at all
I love you like oil
Coming down hard
Need you so fast
Need you so right away
Like a road train
I need you babe
But nothing last forever after all ....
I'll love you til the ocean takes us all
Dolly got it immediately. “Don’t start me on the liver fluke”, they baah’d. They had heard Ruin say more or less the same about the HIV virus, that it was a driver. James rejected the shame relative to that cloud around those types of infections called venereal, that hypocritical blaming and moralising which set them apart. He loved Maupassant’s reaction, his outcry. But that too was probably the spirochete talking. What is defined as madness needs expression too, that extreme perimeter describes the whole
According to James, all life, from the virus, through every species and manifestation up to and including ourselves, and beyond, is equal, and striving towards proliferating itself, celebrating life itself.
The cures are, of course, 'drivers' too.
“Soon mercury will be my staple diet. My hair is beginning to grow again . . . the hair on my arse is sprouting. . . . I’ve got the pox! at last! the real thing! not the contemptible clap, not the ecclesiastical crystalline, not the bourgeois coxcombs or the leguminous cauliflowers—no—no, the great pox, the one which (King) Francis I died of. The majestic pox, pure and simple; the elegant syphilis . . . I’ve got the pox . . . and I am proud of it, by thunder, and to hell with the bourgeoisie. Allelujah, I’ve got the pox, so I don’t have to worry about catching it anymore."
--Guy de Maupassant
A idea that came into my head whilst trying to stay awake at my old print finishing job. A bit more illustrative for me.
My dad didn't want anyone giving us toy guns beause of his pacifist beliefs. Still they found their way into my toy chest and now I am an excellent marksman. I don't own any real guns, but whenever I get to use one I'm fairly 95 percent accurate with it. I blame gun-based video games. Benjamin Franklin had an amusing rant referencing this quote: "Those who beat their swords into plowshares will end up plowing for those who did not". I don't condone violence, but human nature is very complicated.
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