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View Poll Results: What would you do? | |||
Complain to the city (noise) |
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6 | 23.08% |
Suck it up and get normal hours |
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7 | 26.92% |
Sabotage the construction equipment |
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4 | 15.38% |
Let it be, it shouldn't be more then another month (of agonizing hell) |
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9 | 34.62% |
Voters: 26. You may not vote on this poll |
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#1
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Tell me about vaginas because I have never seen such a thing, I hear it comes in all shapes and sizes and that it makes quacking sounds during sex.
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#2
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It was an unlikely pairing—the cerebral modernist who had made a point of expelling sentiment from painting going wistful over the master whose every brush mark was loaded with emotion. But the fixation was real.
The shelves in Picasso’s studio at Mougins, in the South of France, were packed with Rembrandtiana, including all six volumes of Otto Benesch’s edition of the drawings. And though Picasso could not have seen Rembrandt’s little panel first-hand (it was in Boston), he must have plucked that archetypal image of setting forth from one of his books. Radical remaker of art though he was, Picasso always balanced his iconoclastic instincts with a compulsive historicism. In 1936, he had agreed to become absentee director of the Prado, while Madrid was under Fascist siege. Constantly measuring himself for admission to the pantheon, Picasso evidently felt that taking down the masters also meant taking them on, and in his time he had mixed it up with, among others, Grünewald, Poussin, Cranach, Velázquez, Goya, and El Greco. At the end, though, it was Rembrandt of whom, according to his friend and biographer Pierre Cabanne, he spoke “ceaselessly.” The haunted self-portraits of those final years, all stubble and cavernous eye sockets, were surely prompted by the series of pitilessly truthful mirror images that Rembrandt executed in his last decade: a dispassionate scrutiny of time’s ruin recorded in heavy jowls and pouches. Occasionally, as in the self-portrait as St. Paul (in the Rijksmuseum), Rembrandt arched his eyebrows in an expression of quizzical self-recognition, the chastened sinner who might yet imagine redemption. Picasso’s face-making, on the other hand, is showy with self-contempt: so many glaring skulls. |
#3
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i only [censored] virgins
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#4
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i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] The ultimate one-night-stand? |
#5
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i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] sounds familiar......... ![]() |
#6
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[ QUOTE ] i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] sounds familiar......... ![]() [/ QUOTE ] mmmmm butterscotch, my favorite.. wtf is the chick on the poster the same chick from clerksII? |
#7
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[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ] [ QUOTE ] i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] sounds familiar......... ![]() [/ QUOTE ] mmmmm butterscotch, my favorite.. wtf is the chick on the poster the same chick from clerksII? [/ QUOTE ] Have you seen Kids? |
#8
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i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] I hear this is a common goal for men with little tallywhackers. Birds who know what they're doing > getting ya banjo string stretched to breaking point. |
#9
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[ QUOTE ] i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] I hear this is a common goal for men with little tallywhackers. Birds who know what they're doing > getting ya banjo string stretched to breaking point. [/ QUOTE ] the tearing sound is very satisfying |
#10
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[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ] [ QUOTE ] i only [censored] virgins [/ QUOTE ] I hear this is a common goal for men with little tallywhackers. Birds who know what they're doing > getting ya banjo string stretched to breaking point. [/ QUOTE ] the tearing sound is very satisfying [/ QUOTE ] but the crying afterwards is usually awkward. |
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