Def Quotes

She heard music. Angels singing? she thought, dizzy. It seemed odd for angels to sing after table sex. She managed to swallow on a throat wildly dry. "Music," she murmured. "My phone. In my pants. Don't care." "Oh. Not angels." "No. Def Leppard.

We are unraveling our navels so that we may ingest the sun. We are not afraid of the darkness. We trust that the moon shall guide us. We are determining the future at this very moment. We know that the heart is the philosopher's stone. Our music is our alchemy.

It didn’t occur to me that I was glistening with sweat and wearing a bikini top until they turned off the bikes, pulled off their helmets and turned to scope me out. To make my own personal cliché perfect, Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me blasted through the radio. I winced – I must look like a white-trash princess from hell, basking outside my trailer in a bikini to outdated butt rock.

I don't wanna be def. Death. Dead. This Burger Twin nappykin just got served as my will, BEOTCH! The fries here suck, by the way. If I die, don't feed my son your shitty fries. Don't give my son to the creepy child molester king you put in your commercials either. What the fuck is wrong with that guy? He's got a normal body and a plastic face that is always smiley. It's not right, man. It's just not right. My ears feel funny.

Shit,” Clutch said after a few minutes. “The high-def has totally ruined porn. Are those ingrown hairs?

A person's strength is to know their weaknesses.

Hi-def is merely the latest in a string of evolutional leaps that have transformed the way we sit slumped in front of a box wishing we were dead.

Fear not of men because men must die. Mind over matter and soul before flesh.

We blasted holes in the night until she bled sunshine

ya better come inside when you're ready to but no chance if ya don't wanna dance you like four letter words when you're ready to but then you won't 'cos you know that you can

Hip-hop is a beautiful culture. It's inspirational, because it's a culture of survivors. You can create beauty out of nothingness.

def leppard lyric from Rock of Ages: It's better to burn out than fade away. This is not a Curt Cobain quote. He was quoting them !!!!!

The new moon rode high in the crown of the metropolis. Shinin', like "Who on top of this?

Ten Best Song to Strip 1. Any hip-swiveling R&B fuckjam. This category includes The Greatest Stripping Song of All Time: "Remix to Ignition" by R. Kelly. 2. "Purple Rain" by Prince, but you have to be really theatrical about it. Arch your back like Prince himself is daubing body glitter on your abdomen. Most effective in nearly empty, pathos-ridden juice bars. 3. "Honky Tonk Woman" by the Rolling Stones. Insta-attitude. Makes even the clumsiest troglodyte strut like Anita Pallenberg. (However, the Troggs will make you look like even more of a troglodyte, so avoid if possible.) 4. "Pour Some Sugar on Me" by Def Leppard. The Lep's shouted choruses and relentless programmed drums prove ideal for chicks who can really stomp. (Coincidence: I once saw a stripper who, like Rick Allen, had only one arm.) 5. "Amber" by 311. This fluid stoner anthem is a favorite of midnight tokers at strip joints everywhere. Mellow enough that even the most shitfaced dancer can make it through the song and back to her Graffix bong without breaking a sweat. Pass the Fritos Scoops, dude. 6. "Miserable" by Lit, but mostly because Pamela Anderson is in the video, and she's like Jesus for strippers (blonde, plastic, capable of parlaying a broken nail into a domestic battery charge, damaged liver). Alos, you can't go wrong stripping to a song that opens with the line "You make me come." 7. "Back Door Man" by The Doors. Almost too easy. The mere implication that you like it in the ass will thrill the average strip-club patron. Just get on all fours and crawl your way toward the down payment on that condo in Cozumel. (Unless, like most strippers, you'd rather blow your nest egg on tacky pimped-out SUVs and Coach purses.) 8. Back in Black" by AC/DC. Producer Mutt Lange wants you to strip. He does. He told me. 9. "I Touch Myself" by the Devinyls. Strip to this, and that guy at the tip rail with the bitch tits and the shop teacher glasses will actually believe that he alone has inspired you to masturbate. Take his money, then go masturbate and think about someone else. 10. "Hash Pipe" by Weezer. Sure, it smells of nerd. But River Cuomo is obsessed with Asian chicks and nose candy, and that's just the spirit you want to evoke in a strip club. I recommend busting out your most crunk pole tricks during this one.

I still wasn’t convinced that tossing a shoe didn’t mean you harbored an anger-management problem, but I did understand love now. How it wrapped around you and made you more aware of the prickles on your skin, the roots of your hair, the intensity of every touch and every inch of you. It was like life on hi-def. Everything was sharper.

I give a damn if any fan recalls my legacy, I'm trying to live life in the sight of GOD's memory.

They say that when a man faces his destiny, the destiny ends and he becomes the man that he really is.

No, you're wrong. You're not a demon. We are devilmen. We may possess the strength of demons... but we have a human heart.

You break so beautifully for me, Raven,” he growls against my ear breathlessly. “Like I’m the one who built you just to fucking destroy you.

Even Def Leppard couldn’t get him out of his funk. When the Def couldn’t crank you, it was way past time to shoot someone.

Think globally, act locally

What I take from writers I like is their economy - the ability to use language to very effective ends. The ability to have somebody read something and see it, or for somebody to paint an entire landscape of visual imagery with just sheets of words - that's magical.

Across from the famous jewelry store on Fifth Avenue at Fifty-Seventh Street, we sat in the back of a graffiti-covered white box truck watching the world go by on the surveillance vehicle’s hidden high-def camera. So far there had been no sign of the thieves. Or even Audrey Hepburn.

Rea­sons Why I Loved Be­ing With Jen I love what a good friend you are. You’re re­ally en­gaged with the lives of the peo­ple you love. You or­ga­nize lovely ex­pe­ri­ences for them. You make an ef­fort with them, you’re pa­tient with them, even when they’re side­tracked by their chil­dren and can’t pri­or­i­tize you in the way you pri­or­i­tize them. You’ve got a gen­er­ous heart and it ex­tends to peo­ple you’ve never even met, whereas I think that ev­ery­one is out to get me. I used to say you were naive, but re­ally I was jeal­ous that you al­ways thought the best of peo­ple. You are a bit too anx­ious about be­ing seen to be a good per­son and you def­i­nitely go a bit over­board with your left-wing pol­i­tics to prove a point to ev­ery­one. But I know you re­ally do care. I know you’d sign pe­ti­tions and help peo­ple in need and vol­un­teer at the home­less shel­ter at Christ­mas even if no one knew about it. And that’s more than can be said for a lot of us. I love how quickly you read books and how ab­sorbed you get in a good story. I love watch­ing you lie on the sofa read­ing one from cover-to-cover. It’s like I’m in the room with you but you’re in a whole other gal­axy. I love that you’re al­ways try­ing to im­prove your­self. Whether it’s running marathons or set­ting your­self chal­lenges on an app to learn French or the fact you go to ther­apy ev­ery week. You work hard to be­come a bet­ter ver­sion of your­self. I think I prob­a­bly didn’t make my ad­mi­ra­tion for this known and in­stead it came off as ir­ri­ta­tion, which I don’t re­ally feel at all. I love how ded­i­cated you are to your fam­ily, even when they’re an­noy­ing you. Your loy­alty to them wound me up some­times, but it’s only be­cause I wish I came from a big fam­ily. I love that you al­ways know what to say in con­ver­sa­tion. You ask the right ques­tions and you know ex­actly when to talk and when to lis­ten. Ev­ery­one loves talk­ing to you be­cause you make ev­ery­one feel im­por­tant. I love your style. I know you think I prob­a­bly never no­ticed what you were wear­ing or how you did your hair, but I loved see­ing how you get ready, sit­ting in front of the full-length mir­ror in our bed­room while you did your make-up, even though there was a mir­ror on the dress­ing ta­ble. I love that you’re mad enough to swim in the English sea in No­vem­ber and that you’d pick up spi­ders in the bath with your bare hands. You’re brave in a way that I’m not. I love how free you are. You’re a very free per­son, and I never gave you the sat­is­fac­tion of say­ing it, which I should have done. No one knows it about you be­cause of your bor­ing, high-pres­sure job and your stuffy up­bring­ing, but I know what an ad­ven­turer you are un­der­neath all that. I love that you got drunk at Jack­son’s chris­ten­ing and you al­ways wanted to have one more drink at the pub and you never com­plained about get­ting up early to go to work with a hang­over. Other than Avi, you are the per­son I’ve had the most fun with in my life. And even though I gave you a hard time for al­ways try­ing to for al­ways try­ing to im­press your dad, I ac­tu­ally found it very adorable be­cause it made me see the child in you and the teenager in you, and if I could time-travel to any­where in his­tory, I swear, Jen, the only place I’d want to go is to the house where you grew up and hug you and tell you how beau­ti­ful and clever and funny you are. That you are spec­tac­u­lar even with­out all your sports trophies and mu­sic cer­tifi­cates and in­cred­i­ble grades and Ox­ford ac­cep­tance. I’m sorry that I loved you so much more than I liked my­self, that must have been a lot to carry. I’m sorry I didn’t take care of you the way you took care of me. And I’m sorry I didn’t take care of my­self, ei­ther. I need to work on it. I’m pleased that our break-up taught me that. I’m sorry I went so mental. I love you. I always will. I'm glad we met.

All the things that are worth doing, take time.

I know enough to know, that I don't know much

We just gotta fly I can take you thru the center of the dark We gonna fly On a collision course to crash into my heart I will be your, I will be your rocket

Speech is my hammer bang the world into shape now let it fall - HUNGH

Guy: What has nine arms and sucks? Me: What? Guy: Def Leppard.

Van Halen, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, and Pink Floyd.

He doesn't just look like trouble; he's the very definition of it. But I find myself drawn in anyway, feeling the danger only makes the pull stronger, as if red flags were suddenly my favourite colour.

Although, your stripping skills could use a bit of work. Yeah, well, excuse the fuck out of me. You just said take them off... wasn't aware I was supposed to put on some Def Leppard and make a show of it.

Our relationship was always platonic and never got weird. After he heard me sing, Will believed in my talent. He took me with him to Def Jam Recordings, the hottest new hip-hop label at the time, where he was signed.

Me: No, I’m not. I feared you'd shank me earlier. But I had time to think about it today. Brax: Shanking you didn't even cross my mind, Gracie. A few other things, def, but not that. So you’ve been thinking about me today? Swell. It must’ve been that kiss.

Noah: you two go in, get summer’s necklace thingie, get out, bring it to me and javi Javi: You and me? Noah: yeah I was gonna go over to your place if that was ok Javi: def ok Tamsin: ooooooooohhhh Hana: ooooohhhhhhh~ Bex: Ooooooooh. Javi: oOoOoOoOoOoO Noah: once this is done, you’re all dead to me

I stretched my arms towards the sky like blades of tall grass The sun beat between my shoulders like carnival drums I sat still in hopes that it would help my wings grow So then I could really be fly And then she arrived Like day break inside a railway tunnel Like the new moon, like a diamond in the mines Like high noon to a drunkard, sudden She made my heart beat in a now-now time signature Her skinny canvas for ultraviolet brushstrokes She was the sun's painting She was a deep cognac color Her eyes sparkled like lights along the new city She lips pursed as if her breath was too sweet And full for her mouth to hold I said, "You are the beautiful, the stress of mathematics." I said, "For you, I would peel open the clouds like new fruit And give you lightning and thunder as a dowry I would make the sky shed all of it's stars, light and rain And I would clasp the constellations across your waist And I would make the heavens your cape And they would be pleased to cover you They would be pleased to cover you May I please, cover you, please

Ironically, this *was* a kind of apocalypse—not the one that Tea Parties and their allies like Paul Broun had been warning about, but a different kind, a complete breakdown of Washington's ability to get anything done, even staring in the face of serious problems that required complex solutions, and some eventual compromise.

The passage that he had found in the book had been riddled with ambiguities and contradictions only reserved for those most valiant in overriding their legalistic forbearance into a necessary frenzy that would allow them to suitably work up a case for one side or the other on how the Law, without the possibility of misinterpretation, states If ABC, then DEF—or for the sake of acknowledging the counterargument first as a courtroom tactic, the case might also be made that the Law states the antithesis of the aforementioned If ABC, then DEF, but gives allowance within reasonable parameters for a provisional XYZ to be granted in exceptional cases. And thus, it was a matter not so much of making one’s case in a clear and logical sense, but one for the lawyers to battle out in the arena of pathos, as it was clearly the emotional pleas that could evoke a sense of sympathy in the courtroom and overturn otherwise painstaking endeavors at using the tools at hand to make pleas based upon incontrovertible facts.

This first period includes the Rise of Venice, her noblest achievements, and the circumstances which determined her cha* Hist- def Rep. Ital., vol. i. ch. v. f Appendix 3.: "Serra r Del t "Ha Maputo trove mo do Che non uni, non pooch, non molt i, ma molt i bubonic, pooch migliori, e insiememente, ultimo solo."— Ah, well done, Venice! Wisdom

He’s done terrifying things. Horrific things. Fuck. He’s getting into my mind isn’t he? Or am I the problem?

The lower they descend from their darkness, the closer they get to walking through the door into the light.

How many psychopaths have you met, Kitten?

You shouldn't be in a place like this. You're far too.....precious.

Be very careful, Little Kitten. I can smell your fear and I f*king like it.

F*king call for them, Raven. Tell them I'm touching my new therapist inappropriately. Get me locked up for another fifteen years. Save yourself from me.

So f*king beautiful. So pure and delicate. So ready to be tainted and shattered by me.

I'll f*king break her physically and mentally. I'll enjoy it while doing so.

This isn't even a fraction of what I'd do for you, kitten. He had his hands on what's f*king mine.

And though he's as dangerous as anyone else in this place - maybe even more so - he'd come through for me in a way no one else would have in my life.

I suppose it's a reminder that recovery is never in a straight line.

Oh freckles, I'd do anything for you. But one thing I won't do is have you stop me from doing what the f*k is right. You'll learn the hard way, my beautiful girl

Pierce my fucking heart, kitten. Stab it. Cut me open. I'll only ever happily bleed for you.

You want your pyschopathic patient to shamefully ruin this little pussy. To show you what it feels like to be fucked senseless by a maniac.

There's no getting rid of me, Raven. You're seared into my insane fucking mind --- etched into my demented soul. You're mine. All. Fucking. Mine.

I don't want air if it's not fucking laced with her. I don't want life if it's not created around her.

MEANWHILE, THERE’S THE New Millennium technology craze . . . holy moly, is there ever . . . the breathless infatuation with hi-def, 3D, 5G, glued to the hand, glued to the ear, twenty-first-century cyber gee-whizzery. They’re coming at us so fast—the gizmos, the doodads, the gimcracks, the wonderments—so ubiquitously, so overwhelmingly, we’ve not yet found how best to wrangle each new miracle into genuine usefulness.

As was foreshadowed in Paragraphs 1 and 4, Cantor, and Dedekind's near-simultaneous appearance in math is more or less the Newton + Leibniz thing all over again, a sure sign that the Time Was Right for (Infinity)-type sets. Just as striking is the Escherian way the two men's work dovetails. Cantor is able to define and ground the concepts of 'infinite set' and 'transfinite number,' and to establish rigorous techniques for combining and comparing different types of (Infinity)s, which is just where Dedekind's def. of irrationals needs shoring up. Pro quo, the schnitt technique demonstrates that actually-infinite sets can have real utility in analysis. That, in other words, as sensuously and cognitively abstract as they must remain, (Infinity)s can nevertheless function in math as practical abstractions rather than as just weird paradoxical flights of fancy.

LIBERTAD Y NECESIDAD (libertas-necessitas) La libertad es la afirmación de la necesidad de una naturaleza particular, esto es, de su ser; por eso se habla de la «libre necesidad» (Ep 58), sea en la forma plena e incondicionada de lo absoluto o en la mucho más restringida de los seres finitos, donde hay determinación entre ellos que coacciona (E1Def7). Ser libre, en cualquier caso, es hacer valer la propia esencia-potencia frente a otras, en el marco de las relaciones causales que a todos conciernen,

PLAYLIST “Addicted to Love” by Robert Palmer “All She Wants to Do Is Dance” by Don Henley “Bad Medicine” by Bon Jovi “The Distance” by Cake “The Girl Gets Around” by Sammy Hagar “Glory Days” by Bruce Springsteen “Guys My Age” by Hey Violet “Hurts So Good” by John Mellencamp “I Love Rock ’n Roll” by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts “I’m on Fire” by Bruce Springsteen “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield “Pity Party” by Melanie Martinez “Poison” by Alice Cooper “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard “Run to You” by Bryan Adams

Me: It will get better, right? Eventually, it will get better. Scarlett: I’m sorry I’m not the type to lower our discourse to emoji use since you totally deserve a smiley face right now. Yes, it will get better. Me: Ha. It’s just. Whatever. Sorry to keep whining. Scarlett: That’s what I’m here for. BTW, that email you forwarded? My guess: TOTALLY A SECRET ADMIRER. Me: You’ve read too many books. I’m being set up. And stop YELLING AT ME. Scarlett: No way. I didn’t say he was a vampire. I said he was a secret admirer. Most def. Me: Wanna take bets? Scarlett: You should just know by now that I’m always right. It’s my one magic power. Me: What’s mine? Scarlett: TBD. Me: Thanks a lot. Scarlett: Kidding. You are strong. That’s your power, girl. Me: My arms are v. toned from stress-eating ALL the cookies. Hand to mouth. Repeat 323 times. Hard-core workout. Scarlett: Seriously, for a second, J? Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask for help sometimes. Remember that. I’m here, ALWAYS, but you might want to take up that offer from someone local. Me: Whatever. Ugh. Thanks, Dr. Phil. I miss you! Scarlett: Miss you too! Go write back to SN. NOW. NOW. NOW. Now tell me the truth? Anyone at your school unusually pale?

Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment: InterLace TelEntertainment, 932/1864 R.I.S.C. power-TPs w/ or w/o console, Pink2, post-Primestar D.S.S. dissemination, menus and icons, pixel-free InterNet Fax, tri- and quad-modems w/ adjustable baud, post-Web Dissemination-Grids, screens so high-def you might as well be there, cost-effective videophonic conferencing, internal Froxx CD-ROM, electronic couture, all-in-one consoles, Yushityu ceramic nanoprocessors, laser chromatography, Virtual-capable media-cards, fiber-optic pulse, digital encoding, killer apps; carpal neuralgia, phosphenic migraine, gluteal hyperadiposity, lumbar stressae.

Society tends to silence those who don’t comply, forcing everyone into the same perfect bubble, where people who are different are suppressed, or have to pretend to be something they’re not. We’ve created a system that orders obedience and strict rules. And if anyone doesn’t toe the line? They’re labelled crazy or worse.

Recall Part 3c's mention of how Cantor took what had been regarded as a paradoxical, totally unhandlable feature of (Infinity)-namely that an infinite set/class/aggregate can be put into a one-to-one correspondence with its own subset-and transformed it into the technical def. of infinite set. Watch how he does the same thing here, turning what appear to be devastating objections into rigorous criteria, by defining a set S as any aggregate of collection of discrete entities that satisfies two conditions: (1) S can be entertained by the mind as an aggregate, and (2) There is some stated rule or condition via which one can determine, for any entity x, whether or not x is a member of S.

During his first week on the job, McNamara sat down with the Pentagon’s Weapons Systems Evaluation Group (WSEG), which had just completed an intensive study, known as WSEG Report #50, that found that a Soviet surprise attack on only five locations—the White House, the Pentagon, Camp David, Raven Rock, and Mount Weather—would likely destroy all of the nation’s command structure. Even simply hitting the first two would likely wipe out the military command structure, since Raven Rock and Mount Weather weren’t normally manned with senior personnel. “Both the Presidential and the SecDef-JCS levels of command are presently subject to operational incapacitation by the same events,” the report explained. Hitting all the nation’s major military commands and leadership sites would involve attacking just fourteen installations—a

BUENO Y MALO (bonum-malum) Es bueno lo que favorece la relación de movimiento y reposo (M-R) que articula las partes del cuerpo humano (E3P39); lo que ayuda a acercarse al modelo ideal de naturaleza humana elegido como guía estratégica de la conducta (E4Praef.); lo que concuerda con la propia naturaleza, especialmente en términos racionales (E4P40); también lo es cuanto promueve el desarrollo de la racionalidad (E4P27 y A5); y, finalmente, todo lo que reporta con certeza alguna utilidad, mientras que es nocivo aquello que lo impide (E4Def1 y 2). Como es obvio, se llama malo a lo contrario en los cinco sentidos mencionados, toda vez que es algo derivado y está en función de lo bueno. No hay un bien o un mal absolutos, sino unas relaciones valorativas adaptadas a la situación (E4Praef.), lo que no supone un puro relativismo, sino una inteligencia flexible de lo que conviene.

CAUSA (causa) Todo lo que existe se relaciona causalmente, de manera que este vínculo constante permite hablar de «orden y conexión» (E2P7), de leyes naturales, etc., por contraste con lo que sería el caos o la excepción sobrenatural (el milagro). Como ya afirmó la tradición y la ciencia moderna lleva al límite, la inteligibilidad de lo real descansa en el conocimiento de los efectos por las causas (TIE 85, E1Ax4), lo que se resume en el adagio causa sive ratio o dar razón causal de algo. Hay que partir de lo que es causa de sí (Dios) y comprender desde ahí las secuencias productoras (E1Def1, P16, P18, P28) que eliminan la contingencia y la indeterminación (E1P27 y P29). Ahora bien, a menudo no es posible conocer la concatenación causal de la realidad a escala microfísica, lo que abre la puerta a la consideración —en la vida cotidiana— de las cosas «como si» fueran posibles.

There are occasions, however, when even S holds a secret delight or two in the form of a pink, such as the one I found among the citations (or "cits" for short) for "sex kitten": sex kitten sex pot There is no essential difference in these defs [definitions], but they're not the same. Some differentiation shd be made. The pink was written by one of our former physical science editors infamous for commenting as brusquely as possible on things beyond his remit... Another one of our science editors who was reviewing the batch later was apparently irritated by this note, and decided to comment on what he no doubt saw as needless meddling. His typewritten response to the note about "sex kitten" reads, "I will no doubt regret saying this but I think you have misconstrued the meaning of 'physical' science somewhere along here." But a pink's a pink. Steve acted on it for the Tenth, adding the word "young" to the definition for "sex kitten.

tanks in combat and infantry soldiers engaging the enemy while a steward poured a fresh cup of coffee before the briefing got started. “Can you believe this, Blain? I still marvel at this every time I see it,” Madden whispered to him. He pointed to a monitor on their right—a label above the monitor said ISR Four-Charley. The image, appearing in digital high-def, showed a grouping of six armored vehicles preparing themselves to advance and join an attack that appeared to be ongoing. The group itself, a mix of three Abrams battle tanks and three Bradley infantry fighting vehicles, was the next in line to travel through a minefield before reaching the enemy. Then puffs of black smoke appeared near the vehicles. Dirt was thrown into the sky from the explosions—scattering about in the air before falling back to the ground. Then suddenly, as one, the metallic beasts came to life. These armored chariots of war were now on the move. It was slow at first. Deliberate movements as they weaved

Society tends to silence those who don’t comply, forcing everyone into the same perfect bubble, where people who are different are suppressed, or have to pretend to be something they’re not. We’ve created a system that orders obedience and strict rules. And if anyone doesn’t toe the line? They’re labelled crazy or worse. I have empathy for those who are struggling. There’s always a reason behind someone’s actions, a cause behind their pain, no matter how long they’ve been lost in their nightmare. I don’t believe anyone is born malicious; I believe something inside them was broken or consumed along the way.

I will… I will kill you,” I whisper, the words trembling on my lips as tears begin to spill over. The knife shakes in my hand, the threat sounding weak, even to me. He smirks, his eyes narrowing with a wicked gleam as his hands slide to either side of the counter behind me, caging me in. I’m forced to tilt my head back, his face so close I can see every drop of water glistening on his skin, feel the heat of his breath mingling with mine. Dark strands of his wet hair drip onto my face, cold against my flushed cheeks. “So do it,” he murmurs, rough and deep, taunting me. “Pierce my fucking heart, kitten. Stab it. Cut me open. I’ll only ever happily bleed for you.

These hard-core conservative and their very own 'days of rage' should not have been that surprising. For a year now, the likes of Glenn Beck had been telling them that the backlash had the power to prevail over the dark forces of socialism (or worse), that 'we surround them'—but that the consequences of failure could be catastrophic, possibly signaling the death of the Republic itself. The reality that—as Obama himself mocked—no such thing was happening was not a source of reassurance but a trigger for even greater anger. A movement that was built atop a pyramid of so much misinformation was not well equipped to deal with the contradictions of its core beliefs, even—or especially—when they became apparent to the rest of the world.

I want a love like me thinking of you thinking of me thinking of you type love or me telling my friends more than I've ever admitted to myself about how I feel about you type love or hating how jealous you are but loving how much you want me all to yourself type love or seeing how your first name just sounds so good next to my last name. and shit- I wanted to see how far I could get without calling you and I barely made it out of my garage. See, I want a love that makes me wait until she falls asleep then wonder if she's dreaming about us being in love type love or who loves the other more or what she's doing at this exact moment or slow dancing in the middle of our apartment to the music of our hearts. Closing my eyes and imagining how a love so good could just hurt so much when she's not there and shit I love not knowing where this love is headed type love. And check this- I wanna place those little post-it notes all around the house so she never forgets how much I love her type love then not have enough ink in my pen to write all the love type love and hope I make her feel as good as she makes me feel and I wanna deal with my friends making fun of me the way I made fun of them when they went through the same kind of love type love. The only difference is this is one of those real type loves and just like in high school I wanna spend hours on the phone not saying shit and then fall asleep and then wake up with her right next to me and smell her all up in my covers type love and I wanna try counting the ways I love her then lose count in the middle just so I could start all over again and I wanna celebrate one of those one-month anniversaries even though they ain't really anniversaries but doing it just 'cause it makes her happy type love and check this- I wanna fall in love with the melody the phone plays when our numbers dial in type love and talk to you until I lose my breath, she leaves me breathless, but with the expanding of my lungs I inhale all of her back into me. I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan to something that allows me to talk to her longer 'cause in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves and I don't want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are I mean the lines on my palms don't give me enough time to love you as long as I'd like to type love and I want a love that makes me st-st-st-stutter just thinking about how strong this love is type love and I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair. Well maybe not all of the hair, maybe like I'd cut the split ends and trim the mustache but it would still be a symbol of how strong my love is for her. I kind of feel comfortable now so I even be fantasize about walking out on a green light just dying to get hit by a car just so I could lose my memory, get transported to some third world country just to get treated and somehow meet up again with you so I could fall in love with you in a different language and see if it still feels the same type love. I want a love that's as unexplainable as she is, but I'm married so she is gonna be the one I share this love with.

The seeming power of a unified minority in Washington with just enough votes to thwart Obama was also a source of strength and, arguably, arrogance and self-importance. Even after Brown's election, the Democrats held 59 percent of the U.S. Senate, 59 percent of the House of Representatives, and 100 percent of the White House. But the GOP's forty-one Senate votes—representing, it must be noted, no more than 37 percent of the American public (thanks to Republican popularity in smaller states)—seemed paramount, because it offered just enough votes to kill any piece of legislation through the delaying tactic known as the filibuster. These representatives of 37 percent of the country wielded unprecedented powers because of something the likes of which this nation had never seen before: their ability to stick together on every single issue with the sole purpose of obstructing Barack Obama and his Democratic allies. It was an 'I Hope He Fails' strategy hatched in the ratings-driven studios of talk radio, but now rigid legislative fealty to the on-air musings of Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck had ground Washington to a total halt.

Motherfucking Joe starts yell-singing along with Def Leppard: -demolition man, can i be your man? Oh.My.God. Music dies, Joe proclaims "Show Thyself, mighty stallion!" Laughing i call out "Shut the fuck up!

I want a love that makes me need to change my cell phone calling plan To something allows me to talk to her longer ‘cause in all honesty, I want to avoid one of them high cell phone bill type loves And I want a love that makes me regret how small my hands are I mean the lines on my palms don’t give me enough time To love you as long as I’d like to type love.

the Porn Star by Island Def Jam routine.

class Indenter: def __init__(self): self.level = 0 def __enter__(self): self.level += 1 return self def __exit__(self, exc_type, exc_val, exc_tb): self.level -= 1 def print(self, text): print(' ' * self.level + text)

Concerted campaigns of cyberespionage are not one of my fears. I'm at DefCon Minus Five.

If there are whole parts of yourself that you are always running from, that you even feel justified in running from, then you’re going to run from anything that brings you into contact with your feelings of insecurity. And have you noticed how often these parts of ourselves get touched? The closer you get to a situation or a person, the more these feelings arise. Often when you’re in a relationship it starts off great, but when it gets intimate and begins to bring out your neurosis, you just want to get out of there. So I’m here to tell you that the path to peace is right there, when you want to get away. You can cruise through life not letting anything touch you, but if you really want to live fully, if you want to enter into life, enter into genuine relationships with other people, with animals, with the world situa-tion, you’re def i nitely going to have the ex-perience of feeling provoked, of getting hooked, of shenpa. You’re not just going to feel bliss. The message is that when those feelings emerge, this is not a failure. This is the chance to cultivate maitri, unconditional friendliness toward your perfect and imperfect self.

The high-def camera on your mobile phone is a decent diagnostic tool already, but it’s a small step to consumer-friendly diagnostic tools arriving on our doorsteps, used, and shipped back. Specialists will be consulted across town, across the country. Teladoc Health, the largest independent U.S. telemedicine service, is adding thousands of doctors to its network.6 The transition to electronic health records was a major thrust for Obamacare and may be the program’s most lasting and important legacy, as electronic records enable a dispersal of an industry ripe for disruption.

Think of a baseball card, which carries a picture, some text, and some numerical data. A baseball hypercard could contain a highlight film of the player in action, shown in perfect high-def television; a complete biography, read by the player himself, in stereo digital sound; and a complete statistical database along with specialized software to help you look up the numbers you want.

Now the curse was lifted, and I should have been sprinting toward the truth. Instead, I sat on a patch of grass, teaching a werewolf pup a riff from a Def Leppard song.

Through one door is Helmuth’s wrath and my stepfather’s withering hatred, and through another is body glitter, bright lights, and Def Leppard.

pleasure.” “What called, this def—

While Im in the Dressin room five minutes befoar I come out my glubs are lased up im breakin my glubs down im pushin the leathah in the back of the glub im breakin the middle of the glub so my knuckle can piers through the leatha i can feel my knuckle piersin against the tight leatha glub of the evalast boxin glub wen i come out i have supreme confidens but im scared to def im totally afraid im afraid of losin im afraid of bein humiliated but im totally confident the closa i get to the ring the more confiden i am

Podían oír que de adentro venían los acordes de lo que sonaba como la canción de Def Leppard “Pon algo de azúcar en mí”. La abrió

Happiness (def): the state of being happy. Happiness is a choice, not a result. Nothing will make you happy unless you choose to be happy.

Inspiration is blurry, and we live in this time where everyone wants excruciating high-def clarity but then you remember that all writers look around at the world and think…‘I have to make something out of this mess, out of my pain, my life, out of the Denis Johnson that made me who I am.’ That’s the great tradition, the writer’s burden, the writer’s gift.

Yo, I’m bored.” “What do you want me to do about it?” “Entertain me.” “Fuck you. I’m not your circus monkey.” “I woke up my roommate, I snorted so loud. You should def dress up as a circus monkey for Halloween.” “Only if you dress up as an ass. Sorry, I mean donkey. You’re already an ass.” “What a comedian. Don’t quit your day job. P.S. You think I won’t do it? I’ll do it just so I can blackmail you with the monkey pics.” “You don’t tell someone you want to blackmail them before getting the blackmail material, dumbass.

I can scare the pants off the holiest ghost.

Observed plate, per procedure. Plate appeared empty. Clever choice - minimalist. Upon closer inspection, noted area of gaseous mixture immediately above plate: roughly 78% N / 21% O. Inspired - if must imitate, imitate one of the greats. Inhaled mixture; amazing effects: transmission of oxygen across the membranes of lungs and into bloodstream. Extended my lifespan (anomalous effect?). Summary: would def. breathe again.

The fact that most people are narcissistic and arrogant, is what makes them def to those that know far much more than them.

Kicker5525: SOS! TooDamn-Funky: where r u? Kicker5525: public bus. not totally sure it’s the right 1. TooDamn-Funky: r u running away???? don’t let evan run you away!!! unless ur coming here! then def run away!!! Kicker5525: no. just ran out on massage with R. TooDamn-Funky: she took u 4 massage? but u hate when strangers touch u!!! Kicker5525: I KNOW!!!! TooDamn-Funky: y did you not TELL HER THAT? Kicker5525: I think I just did. I think I just told the whole place. TooDamn-Funky: wow when u explode u explode. Kicker5525: beginning to sense that. TooDamn-Funky: what now? Kicker5525: soccer practice. then prob get grounded. again. TooDamn-Funky: sending you good vibes. Kicker5525: thnx. love ya! TooDamn-Funky: u 2 my poor misguided freak girl.

Like a def, a class statement is an object builder, and an implicit assignment — when run, it generates a class object and stores a reference to it in the name used in the header.

the jukebox blares a Def Leopard tune.

local 111.111.111.111 dev tun proto udp port 1194 ca /etc/openvpn/easy-rsa/keys/ca.crt cert /etc/openvpn/easy-rsa/keys/SERVERNAME.crt # TBD - Change SERVERNAME to your Server name key /etc/openvpn/easy-rsa/keys/SERVERNAME.key # TBD - Change SERVERNAME to your Server name dh /etc/openvpn/easy-rsa/keys/dh1024.pem    # TBD - Change if not using 2048 bit encryption server 10.8.0.0 255.255.255.0 ifconfig 10.8.0.1 10.8.0.2 push "route 10.8.0.1 255.255.255.255" push "route 10.8.0.0 255.255.255.0" push "route 111.111.111.111 255.255.255.0" push "dhcp-option DNS 222.222.222.222" push "redirect-gateway def1" client-to-client duplicate-cn keepalive 10 120 tls-auth /etc/openvpn/easy-rsa/keys/ta.key 0 comp-lzo persist-key persist-tun user nobody group nogroup cipher AES-128-CBC log /var/log/openvpn.log status /var/log/openvpn-status.log 20 verb 1 Note: To paste in

He had the good sense to grab his parasol before he left; otherwise, he would have been cooking in the afternoon sun, nothing but a puddle in Def Leppard crop-top and skinny jeans.

They are usually multi-talented, with dozens of ideas streaming across the “high-def” screen of their minds in a moving sort of neon, pulsating display of enticing, seemingly impractical options for making contributions to humanity. Creative

A nuclear bomb would have to detonate inside my chest cavity to stir even the faintest of responses from the lump of flesh that pumps my blood around my body.” “I sure that’s an intentional def—” “Do not say defense mechanism. I’m done defending myself from things. I decided assault was the only way forward a long time ago.

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man? Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light Television lover, baby, go all night Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah