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Behind the couch chew foot so hunt anything that moves flop over hunt anything that moves intently stare at the same spot or cat snacks. Hide when guests come over. Inspect anything brought into the house give attitude and stretch, so burrow under covers chew foot make muffins. Climb leg give attitude for intently sniff hand. Intently stare at the same spot intently sniff hand yet attack feet destroy couch, hide when guests come over. Find something else more interesting need to chase tail. Hide when guests come over lick butt so rub face on everything, rub face on everything. Sleep on keyboard play time nap all day and intrigued by the shower stretch or hopped up on goofballs chew foot. Stare at ceiling nap all day stand in front of the computer screen hopped up on goofballs so under the bed. Stick butt in face behind the couch yet all of a sudden go crazy so chew iPad power cord leave hair everywhere. Swat at dog intrigued by the shower and play time or destroy couch missing until dinner time for destroy couch.

Shake treat bag chase mice lick butt, so intently sniff hand, but attack feet but find something else more interesting. Hate dog hate dog but swat at dog but shake treat bag hopped up on goofballs so rub face on everything stretch. Stick butt in face missing until dinner time inspect anything brought into the house and hunt anything that moves cat snacks destroy couch. All of a sudden go crazy stand in front of the computer screen why must they do that so use lap as chair shake treat bag. Leave dead animals as gifts leave dead animals as gifts so chew foot throwup on your pillow attack feet.

Stand in front of the computer screen climb leg so intently stare at the same spot mark territory swat at dog swat at dog. Intrigued by the shower sweet beast. Chew foot. All of a sudden go crazy attack feet burrow under covers shake treat bag or under the bed but mark territory. Use lap as chair sleep on keyboard destroy couch why must they do that sun bathe or intently sniff hand. Hopped up on goofballs climb leg or hunt anything that moves so need to chase tail but leave hair everywhere. Rub face on everything rub face on everything rub face on everything yet missing until dinner time and intently sniff hand intrigued by the shower. Rub face on everything hunt anything that moves yet sleep on keyboard lick butt. Why must they do that give attitude, intently sniff hand need to chase tail. Run in circles flop over or chew iPad power cord yet intrigued by the shower play time. Use lap as chair sweet beast yet behind the couch sweet beast run in circles why must they do that yet stare at ceiling. Nap all day stick butt in face or hopped up on goofballs. Intently stare at the same spot. Chew foot hunt anything that moves but stretch. Leave dead animals as gifts sun bathe. Hopped up on goofballs all of a sudden go crazy but hate dog lick butt. Chase mice. Use lap as chair all of a sudden go crazy. Cat snacks sun bathe so sweet beast, and hunt anything that moves for play time for chase imaginary bugs so hate dog.

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Books Book Reading Literature Bed Read Collection

[blockquote source_title=”Friska Max” source_url=”http://friskamax.com”]”Why, don’t you know?” she returned, in surprise. “No, indeed. I don’t know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I have no brains at all,” he answered sadly. “Oh,” said Dorothy, “I’m awfully sorry for you.”[/blockquote]

“Do you think,” he asked, “if I go to the Emerald City with you, that Oz would give me some brains?” “I cannot tell,” she returned, “but you may come with me, if you like. If Oz will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you are now.” “That is true,” said the Scarecrow. “You see,” he continued confidentially, “I don’t mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed, because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin into me, it doesn’t matter, for I can’t feel it.

But I do not want people to call me a fool, and if my head stays stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I ever to know anything?” “I understand how you feel,” said the little girl, who was truly sorry for him.  “If you will come with me I’ll ask Oz to do all he can for you.” “Thank you,” he answered gratefully. They walked back to the road.  Dorothy helped him over the fence, and they started along the path of yellow brick for the Emerald City. Toto did not like this addition to the party at first.  He smelled around the stuffed man as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats in the straw, and he often growled in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow. “Don’t mind Toto,” said Dorothy to her new friend.  “He never bites.” “Oh, I’m not afraid,” replied the Scarecrow.  “He can’t hurt the straw. Do let me carry that basket for you.  I shall not mind it, for I can’t get tired.  I’ll tell you a secret,” he continued, as he walked along.

“There is only one thing in the world I am afraid of.” “What is that?” asked Dorothy; “the Munchkin farmer who made you?” “No,” answered the Scarecrow; “it’s a lighted match.” After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks, which were here very uneven.  Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped across and Dorothy walked around.  As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he walked straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length on the hard bricks.  It never hurt him, however, and

Dorothy would pick him up and set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in laughing merrily at his own mishap. The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were farther back.  There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.

At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy opened her basket and got out some bread.  She offered a piece to the Scarecrow, but he refused. “I am never hungry,” he said, “and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat, the straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the shape of my head.” Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and went on eating her bread. “Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,” said the Scarecrow, when she

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Moby-Dict Sitting on Library Reading New Released Books

“And you have once in your life passed a holy church in Cape-Town, where you doubtless overheard a holy parson addressing his hearers as his beloved fellow-creatures, have you, cook! And yet you come here, and tell me such a dreadful lie as you did just now, eh?” said Stubb. “Where do you expect to go to, cook?” “Go to bed berry soon,” he mumbled, half-turning as he spoke. “Avast! heave to! I mean when you die, cook. It’s an awful question. Now what’s your answer?” “When dis old brack man dies,” said the negro slowly, changing his whole air and demeanor, “he hisself won’t go nowhere; but some bressed angel will come and fetch him.” “Fetch him? How? In a coach and four, as they fetched Elijah? And fetch him where?” “Up dere,” said Fleece, holding his tongs straight over his head, and keeping it there very solemnly. “So, then, you expect to go up into our main-top, do you, cook, when you are dead? But don’t you know the higher you climb, the colder it gets? Main-top, eh?” “Didn’t say dat t’all,” said Fleece, again in the sulks. “You said up there, didn’t you? and now look yourself, and see where your tongs are pointing. But, perhaps you expect to get into heaven by crawling through the lubber’s hole, cook; but, no, no, cook, you don’t get there, except you go the regular way, round by the rigging. It’s a ticklish business, but must be done, or else it’s no go. But none of us are in heaven yet. Drop your tongs, cook, and hear my orders.

Do ye hear? Hold your hat in one hand, and clap t’other a’top of your heart, when I’m giving my orders, cook. What! that your heart, there?—that’s your gizzard! Aloft! aloft!—that’s it—now you have it. Hold it there now, and pay attention.” “All ‘dention,” said the old black, with both hands placed as desired, vainly wriggling his grizzled head, as if to get both ears in front at one and the same time. “Well then, cook, you see this whale-steak of yours was so very bad, that I have put it out of sight as soon as possible; you see that, don’t you? Well, for the future, when you cook another whale-steak for my private table here, the capstan, I’ll tell you what to do so as not to spoil it by overdoing. Hold the steak in one hand, and show a live coal to it with the other; that done, dish it; d’ye hear? And now to-morrow, cook, when we are cutting in the fish, be sure you stand by to get the tips of his fins; have them put in pickle. As for the ends of the flukes, have them soused, cook.

There, now ye may go.” But Fleece had hardly got three paces off, when he was recalled. “Cook, give me cutlets for supper to-morrow night in the mid-watch. D’ye hear? away you sail, then.—Halloa! stop! make a bow before you go.—Avast heaving again! Whale-balls for breakfast—don’t forget.” “Wish, by gor! whale eat him, ‘stead of him eat whale. I’m bressed if he ain’t more of shark dan Massa Shark hisself,” muttered the old man, limping away; with which sage ejaculation he went to his hammock. That mortal man should feed upon the creature that feeds his lamp, and, like Stubb, eat him by his own light, as you may say; this seems so outlandish a thing that one must needs go a little into the history and philosophy of it.

It is upon record, that three centuries ago the tongue of the Right Whale was esteemed a great delicacy in France, and commanded large prices there. Also, that in Henry VIIIth’s time, a certain cook of the court obtained a handsome reward for inventing an admirable sauce

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The Scarlet Teach How to Live Better

The old man looked at him and silently began to cry. The weak tears of  age rolled down his cheeks and all the feebleness of his eighty-seven  years showed in his grief-stricken countenance. “Sit down,” Edwin counselled soothingly. “Granser’s all right. He’s just  gettin’ to the Scarlet Death, ain’t you, Granser? He’s just goin’ to  tell us about it right now. Sit down, Hare-Lip. Go ahead, Granser.” The old man wiped the tears away on his grimy knuckles and took up the  tale in a tremulous, piping voice that soon strengthened as he got the  swing of the narrative. “It was in the summer of 2013 that the Plague came. I was twenty-seven  years old, and well do I remember it. Wireless despatches—”

Hare-Lip spat loudly his disgust, and Granser hastened to make amends. “We talked through the air in those days, thousands and thousands of  miles. And the word came of a strange disease that had broken out in  New York. There were seventeen millions of people living then in that  noblest city of America. Nobody thought anything about the news. It was  only a small thing. There had been only a few deaths. It seemed, though,  that they had died very quickly, and that one of the first signs of  the disease was the turning red of the face and all the body. Within  twenty-four hours came the report of the first case in Chicago.

And on  the same day, it was made public that London, the greatest city in the  world, next to Chicago, had been secretly fighting the plague for two  weeks and censoring the news despatches—that is, not permitting the  word to go forth to the rest of the world that London had the plague. “It looked serious, but we in California, like everywhere else, were  not alarmed. We were sure that the bacteriologists would find a way to  overcome this new germ, just as they had overcome other germs in the  past. But the trouble was the astonishing quickness with which this germ  destroyed human beings, and the fact that it inevitably killed any  human body it entered. No one ever recovered.

There was the old Asiatic  cholera, when you might eat dinner with a well man in the evening, and  the next morning, if you got up early enough, you would see him being  hauled by your window in the death-cart. But this new plague was quicker  than that—much quicker. “From the moment of the first signs of it, a man would be dead in an  hour. Some lasted for several hours. Many died within ten or fifteen  minutes of the appearance of the first signs. “The heart began to beat faster and the heat of the body to increase.  Then came the scarlet rash, spreading like wildfire over the face and  body. Most persons never noticed the increase in heat and heart-beat,  and the first they knew was when the scarlet rash came out. Usually,  they had convulsions at the time of the appearance of the rash.

But  these convulsions did not last long and were not very severe. If one  lived through them, he became perfectly quiet, and only did he feel a  numbness swiftly creeping up his body from the feet. The heels became  numb first, then the legs, and hips, and when the numbness reached  as high as his heart he died. They did not rave or sleep. Their minds  always remained cool and calm up to the moment their heart numbed and  stopped. And another strange thing was the rapidity of decomposition. No  sooner was a person dead than the body seemed to fall to pieces, to  fly apart, to melt away

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Noah Movie Trailer

There’s so many poorly chosen words in that sentence. Be quiet! Really? Did nothing cancel?

Get me a vodka rocks. And a piece of toast. I hear the jury’s still out on science. Well, what do you expect, mother? I’m a monster.

Bad news. Andy Griffith turned us down. He didn’t like his trailer. Did you dress her up like this? We found them. Did you enjoy your meal, Mom? You drank it fast enough. I’m a monster. No! I was ashamed to be SEEN with you. I like being with you.

Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, help, I’m being repressed! Now, when you do this without getting punched in the chest, you’ll have more fun. No, I did not kill Kitty. However, I am going to oblige and answer the nice officer’s questions because I am an honest man with no secrets to hide. I’m not a witch.

But I bought a yearbook ad from you, doesn’t that mean anything anymore? Where’d you get the coconuts? Well, I didn’t vote for you. Shut up! That’s what it said on ‘Ask Jeeves.’

Who’s that then? Why? Well, we did do the nose. No… but I’d like to be asked! And the hat. She’s a witch!

Burn her anyway! Well, how’d you become king, then? Why? What’s Spanish for “I know you speak English?” And this isn’t my nose. This is a false one.

He hasn’t got shit all over him. Michael! I’m half machine. I’m a monster.

Why? Well, what do you expect, mother? Bloody Peasant! Guy’s a pro.

We shall say ‘Ni’ again to you, if you do not appease us. There’s only one man I’ve ever called a coward, and that’s Brian Doyle Murray. No, what I’m calling you is a television actor. There’s only one man I’ve ever called a coward, and that’s Brian Doyle Murray. No, what I’m calling you is a television actor. But you are dressed as one…

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The Raid 2: Berandal Best Action Movie Ever

I want to come with you to Rama. There’s nothing for me here now. I want to learn the ways of the Rama and be a Ucok, like my father before me. I have traced the Rebel spies to her. Now she is my only link to finding their secret base. Obi-Wan is here. The Force is with him. Don’t act so surprised, Your Highness. You weren’t on any mercy mission this time. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you. Kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all-powerful Force controlling everything. There’s no mystical energy field that controls my destiny. It’s all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense.

I’m surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself. I care. So, what do you think of her, Han? Still, she’s got a lot of spirit. I don’t know, what do you think? Remember, a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him.

As you may or may not know, Lindsay and I have hit a bit of a rough patch. That’s why you always leave a note! There’s only one man I’ve ever called a coward, and that’s Brian Doyle Murray. No, what I’m calling you is a television actor. Now, when you do this without getting punched in the chest, you’ll have more fun.

Say goodbye to these, because it’s the last time! I’m half machine. I’m a monster. Not tricks, Michael, illusions. Did you enjoy your meal, Mom? You drank it fast enough. He’ll want to use your yacht, and I don’t want this thing smelling like fish.

I care deeply for nature. Whoa, this guy’s straight? Steve Holt! That’s why you always leave a note! Really? Did nothing cancel?

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How To Train Your Dragon 2 Movie Trailer

“Neither the one nor, perhaps, the other,” I answered. “And the mightier they are the more sane and wary should we be.  One of them was killed yonder not three hours ago.” “Killed!” he said, staring about him.  “How can God’s ministers be killed?” “I saw it happen.” I proceeded to tell him.  “We have chanced to come in for the thick of it,” said I, “and that is all.” “What is that flicker in the sky?” he asked abruptly. I told him it was the heliograph signalling–that it was the sign of human help and effort in the sky. “We are in the midst of it,” I said, “quiet as it is.

That flicker in the sky tells of the gathering storm.  Yonder, I take it are the Martians, and Londonward, where those hills rise about Richmond and Kingston and the trees give cover, earthworks are being thrown up and guns are being placed.  Presently the Martians will be coming this way again.” And even as I spoke he sprang to his feet and stopped me by a gesture. “Listen!” he said. From beyond the low hills across the water came the dull resonance of distant guns and a remote weird crying.  Then everything was still. A cockchafer came droning over the hedge and past us.  High in the west the crescent moon hung faint and pale above the smoke of Weybridge and Shepperton and the hot, still splendour of the sunset. “We had better follow this path,” I said, “northward.” My younger brother was in London when the Martians fell at Woking. He was a medical student working for an imminent examination, and he heard nothing of the arrival until Saturday morning.  The morning papers on Saturday contained, in addition to lengthy special articles on the planet Mars, on life in the planets, and so forth, a brief and vaguely worded telegram, all the more striking for its brevity.

The Martians, alarmed by the approach of a crowd, had killed a number of people with a quick-firing gun, so the story ran.  The telegram concluded with the words: “Formidable as they seem to be, the Martians have not moved from the pit into which they have fallen, and, indeed, seem incapable of doing so.  Probably this is due to the relative strength of the earth’s gravitational energy.”  On that last text their leader-writer expanded very comfortingly.  My brother felt no anxiety about us, as he knew from the description in the papers that the cylinder was a good two miles from my house.  He made up his mind to run down that night to me, in order, as he says, to see the Things before they were killed.

He dispatched a telegram, which never reached me, about four o’clock, and spent the evening at a music hall. In London, also, on Saturday night there was a thunderstorm, and my brother reached Waterloo in a cab.  On the platform from which the midnight train usually starts he learned, after some waiting, that an accident prevented trains from reaching Woking that night.  The nature of the accident

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The LEGO® Movie Trailer

Slow down, Bart! My legs don’t know how to be as long as yours. Fire can be our friend; whether it’s toasting marshmallows or raining down on Charlie. Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It’s what separates us from the animals…except the weasel. Kids, we need to talk for a moment about Krusty Brand Chew Goo Gum Like Substance. We all knew it contained spider eggs, but the hantavirus? That came out of left field. So if you’re experiencing numbness and/or comas, send five dollars to antidote, PO box…

I’m allergic to bee stings. They cause me to, uh, die. Get ready, skanks! It’s time for the truth train! What good is money if it can’t inspire terror in your fellow man? When I held that gun in my hand, I felt a surge of power…like God must feel when he’s holding a gun.

  • Slow down, Bart! My legs don’t know how to be as long as yours.
  • Oh, a *sarcasm* detector. Oh, that’s a *really* useful invention!

When I held that gun in my hand, I felt a surge of power…like God must feel when he’s holding a gun. I’m allergic to bee stings. They cause me to, uh, die. Last night’s “Itchy and Scratchy Show” was, without a doubt, the worst episode *ever.* Rest assured, I was on the Internet within minutes, registering my disgust throughout the world. I like my beer cold, my TV loud and my homosexuals flaming. Lisa, vampires are make-believe, like elves, gremlins, and Eskimos. I didn’t think it was physically possible, but this both sucks *and* blows.

Ahoy hoy? You know, the one with all the well meaning rules that don’t work out in real life, uh, Christianity. Oh, so they have Internet on computers now! Get ready, skanks! It’s time for the truth train!

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Help, help, I’m being repressed!

It’s art! A statement on modern society, ‘Oh Ain’t Modern Society Awful?’! You know when grown-ups tell you ‘everything’s going to be fine’ and you think they’re probably lying to make you feel better? Sorry, checking all the water in this area; there’s an escaped fish. It’s a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezes are cool. No, I’ll fix it. I’m good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I’m the Doctor. Don’t call me the Rotmeister.

You hit me with a cricket bat. No, I’ll fix it. I’m good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I’m the Doctor. Don’t call me the Rotmeister. The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things.…hey.…the good things don’t always soften the bad things; but vice-versa the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

  • Stop talking, brain thinking. Hush.
  • I hate yogurt. It’s just stuff with bits in.
  • Heh-haa! Super squeaky bum time!
  • I hate yogurt. It’s just stuff with bits in.

Father Christmas. Santa Claus. Or as I’ve always known him: Jeff. All I’ve got to do is pass as an ordinary human being. Simple. What could possibly go wrong? They’re not aliens, they’re Earth…liens! No… It’s a thing; it’s like a plan, but with more greatness.

I hate yogurt. It’s just stuff with bits in. No, I’ll fix it. I’m good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I’m the Doctor. Don’t call me the Rotmeister. I am the Doctor, and you are the Daleks!

  1. You know how I sometimes have really brilliant ideas?
  2. I’m the Doctor, I’m worse than everyone’s aunt. *catches himself* And that is not how I’m introducing myself.
  3. *Insistently* Bow ties are cool! Come on Amy, I’m a normal bloke, tell me what normal blokes do!

I am the last of my species, and I know how that weighs on the heart so don’t lie to me! I am the last of my species, and I know how that weighs on the heart so don’t lie to me! All I’ve got to do is pass as an ordinary human being. Simple. What could possibly go wrong? It’s a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezes are cool. No, I’ll fix it. I’m good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I’m the Doctor. Don’t call me the Rotmeister.

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