Looking at it they were high on mushrooms at the time
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Looking at it they were high on mushrooms at the time
yes - very avante garde - Prague architecture is typically very beautiful.
I find the concept of an airport claiming itself to be carbon neutral pretty funny
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/section/1/...ectid=10488529
this is a family forum Arco please dont push the bounds of decency. :o
;)
Interesting legal questions raised in that article about Muslims here in NZ and who their allegiance belongs to if they become residents.
Peat
I particularly 'enjoyed' the audacity of this sentance........
Fouzya Salim told the judge that she had compromised to New Zealand sensibilities by exposing part of her nakedness since her arrival here. She had removed the mosquito netting that covered the eye-slit in her burqa! New Zealand ought to be thankful for small mercies!
Sales of mosquito netting in NZ have probably fallen to an all time low.
:)
I tend to agree that in a court of law one should literally face up to the court and/or ones accusers. do what you like at home but in certain situations you must accept that this is not a Muslim nation and while there is 'freedom of religion' there may be some small compromises should you choose to live here.
On a Trans-Atlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular loses it. Screaming, she stands up in the front of the plane. "I'm too young to die!" she wails. Then she yells, "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on earth to be memorable! No one has ever made me really feel like a woman! Well I've had it! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN??" For a moment there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril, and they all stare, riveted, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane. Then, a man stands up in the rear of the plane. "I can make you feel like a woman," he says. He's gorgeous! Tall, built, with flowing black hair and jet black eyes, he starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. No one moves. The woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the strange man approaches. He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches her, and extends the arm holding his shirt to the trembling woman, and whispers: "Here, Iron this."