Jiffy Quotes

Did you know that a jiffy is an actual measurement of time? It’s a sixtieth of a second.

Don’t be jealous, baby. We’ll get to you in a jiffy. (Daimon) Jiffy? What kind of pathetic wuss uses the word ‘jiffy’? (Xypher)

I'm not really the scented envelope kid of girl, preferring instead to send yellow Jiffy-lite mailers packed with whatever song is on my mind.

Come on," Alec said, already stomping down the ramp. "Let's find us a squirrel." He swept the weapon back and forth as he walked, looking for any interlopers. "Or better yet, one of the crazies who might've strayed over here. Too bad these things have to be charged or we could get rid of this virus problem in a jiffy. Sweep these old neighborhoods nice and clean." Mark joined him on the ground below the Berg, wary that someone might be watching from the ruined homes surrounding them or from the burnt woods beyond those. "Your value of human life brings tears to my eyes," he muttered.

One stifling summer afternoon last August, in the attic of a tiny stone house in Pennsylvania, I made a most interesting discovery: the shortest, cheapest method of inducing a nervous breakdown ever perfected. In this technique..., the subject is placed in a sharply sloping attic heated to 340 F and given a mothproof closet known as the Jiffy-Cloz to assemble.

The Brit's face shares a heritage with a junkyard butt-sniffing mutt. It's a hard-earned moonshine mug, dotted with a hairy mole that looks like a rat's been gnawing on it. His beard looks like a white sneeze. The teeth are jagged and out of alignment, having opened quarts at Jiffy Quick Lube for half a decade.

And then in a jiffy he was under the high ceiling of his great front room. This was entirely satisfactory. Here, after all, life began. Here he slept, breakfasted, read and entertained.

Sometimes it has seemed to me that man's main accomplishment has been to tear down, rob pollute, kill. First, his earth, Then his fellow-men. In recent years has come our final, triumphal achievement: a nuclear contraption and a guided missile to carry it, works of such incredible complexity that only our handful of geniuses could create them, works that can blow up our planet in a jiffy, snuffing out life for good. Can, and probably will, given the folly of those who rule us and who have the power to decide.

Sounds like a jolly good adventure – rather frightening too, I must say. Fortunate that I was tootling past, say what? Come now, you must be in a bit of a fix. Why don’t you hop aboard and I’ll take you back to Lucille in a jiffy and we’ll have a cuppa and a meeting of the old grey matter, what!” Donald shuffled next to Ralph’s side. Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered: “What’s he saying?

the first riddle of the universe: asking, when is a man not a man?: telling them take their time, yungfries, and wait till the tide stops (for from the first his day was a fortnight) and offering the prize of a bittersweet crab, a little present from the past, for their copper age was yet un-minted, to the winner. One said when the heavens are quakers, a second said when Bohemeand lips, a third said when he, no, when hold hard a jiffy, when he is a gnawstick and detarmined to, the next one said when the angel of death kicks the bucket of life, still another said when the wine's at witsends, and still another when lovely wooman stoops to conk him, one of the littliest said me, me, Sem, when pappa papared the harbour, one of the wittiest said, when he yeat ye abblokooken and he zmear he zelf zo zhooken, still one said when you are old I'm grey fall full wi sleep, and still another when wee deader walkner, and another when he is just only after having being semisized, another when yea, he hath no mananas, and one when dose pigs they begin now that they will flies up intil the looft. All were wrong, so Shem himself, the doctator, took the cake, the correct solution being — all give it up? — when he is a — yours till the rending of the rocks, — Sham.

It’s written all over that pretty face of yours.” I scowl. First of all, my face is not pretty. Second of all, I hate when people act like they know what I’m thinking… especially when they know what I’m thinking. And third, because if there’s a first and a second, there has to be a third…

New Rule: Not everything in America has to make a profit. If conservatives get to call universal health care "socialized medicine," I get to call private, for-profit health care "soulless vampire bastards making money off human pain." Now, I know what you're thinking: "But, Bill, the profit motive is what sustains capitalism." Yes, and our sex drive is what sustains the human species, but we don't try to fuck everything. It wasn't that long ago when a kid in America broke his leg, his parents took him to the local Catholic hospital, the nun stuck a thermometer in his ass, the doctor slapped some plaster on his ankle, and you were done. The bill was $1.50; plus, you got to keep the thermometer. But like everything else that's good and noble in life, some bean counter decided that hospitals could be big business, so now they're not hospitals anymore; they're Jiffy Lubes with bedpans. The more people who get sick, and stay sick, the higher their profit margins, which is why they're always pushing the Jell-O. Did you know that the United States is ranked fiftieth in the world in life expectancy? And the forty-nine loser countries were they live longer than us? Oh, it's hardly worth it, they may live longer, but they live shackled to the tyranny of nonprofit health care. Here in America, you're not coughing up blood, little Bobby, you're coughing up freedom. The problem with President Obama's health-care plan isn't socialism. It's capitalism. When did the profit motive become the only reason to do anything? When did that become the new patriotism? Ask not what you could do for your country, ask what's in it for Blue Cross Blue Shield. And it's not just medicine--prisons also used to be a nonprofit business, and for good reason--who the hell wants to own a prison? By definition, you're going to have trouble with the tenants. It's not a coincidence that we outsourced running prisons to private corporations and then the number of prisoners in America skyrocketed. There used to be some things we just didn't do for money. Did you know, for example, there was a time when being called a "war profiteer" was a bad thing? FDR said he didn't want World War II to create one millionaire, but I'm guessing Iraq has made more than a few executives at Halliburton into millionaires. Halliburton sold soldiers soda for $7.50 a can. They were honoring 9/11 by charging like 7-Eleven. Which is wrong. We're Americans; we don't fight wars for money. We fight them for oil. And my final example of the profit motive screwing something up that used to be good when it was nonprofit: TV news. I heard all the news anchors this week talk about how much better the news coverage was back in Cronkite's day. And I thought, "Gee, if only you were in a position to do something about it.

If it's got tits or tires, it's gonna need some work.

Life was groovy, it was fun; it couldn’t change in a jiffy. It dawned upon me that Life is a Sine Curve, and it is nothing but iffy.

He knew that if Edgar Lancte, Fearless Minion of the Effa Bee Eye, could see him doing this, his phone, living room, and bathroom would be tapped in a jiffy.

I tell you, my husband, I’ve put up with as much as I can. Either you get yourself home in a jiffy and act like a human being—or else! As I wish my enemies an early death, so I am from the bottom of my heart, Your truly faithful wife,

Virgil reached into the wool cap that contained his dreads, stuffed so full as to give him the appearance, Ted thought, of the Great Kazoo on the latter years of The Flintstones or a Jiffy Pop container expanded to its max. (Ted made a mental note that these are not bad similes and hoped he could find them on a rainy day.)

This is so not me and I’m worried that along with blowing out my shoulder, I might’ve also grown a vagina. Glancing down my abs that are covered in a tight black T-shirt, I give my dick a nod. Still there.

Okay. Wendy, Amalya, can you lay down some stone blocks?” Devlin said. “You got it!” replied the builders. They quickly set down the blocks near me. Then Devlin and Arthur lifted my body up and placed me on the blocks. “Next?” “Since the builders are here, let’s have them construct a stretcher so that we can carry Steve on it later,” said Clara. “Easy-peasy,” said Wendy. “We’ll have it done in a jiffy,” said Amalya.

Your printers have made but one blunder, Correct it instanter, and then for the thunder! We'll see in a jiffy if this Mr S[pencer] Has the ghost of a claim to be thought a good fencer. To my vision his merits have still seemed to dwindle, Since I have found him allied with the great Dr T[yndall] While I have, for my part, grown cockier and cockier, Since I found an ally in yourself, Mr L[ockyer] And am always, in consequence, thoroughly willin', To perform in the pages of Nature's M[acmillan].

I asked myself this question every single day: Is it possible to break free? To break free from myself? It wasn’t by choice that I became this awfully unhappy. Something, I don’t know what, came upon me and my happiness was snatched away from me in a jiffy. Everything started to feel different. Something didn’t feel right when I woke up every morning and went to bed every night. Something didn’t feel right when I looked at myself in the mirror every 15minutes.Something didn’t feel right when my favourite doughnut became my worst enemy. Something didn’t feel right when all my mind was surrounded by was the pathetic, established standards of bikini bodies and skinny models.

Oh, it's you, sir," she exclaimed. She drew the door right back. A look of highly pleasurable excitement spread over her face. "Come in, sir, if you please, sir." We entered the hall. From beneath the door on the left, loud snuffling sounds proceeded, interspersed with growls. Bob was endeavoring to "place" us correctly. "You can let him out", I suggested. "I will, sir. He's quite all right, really, but he makes such a noise and rushes at people so it frightens them. He's a splendid watchdog though." She opened the morning room door, and Bob shot through like a suddenly projected cannonball. "Who is it? Where are they? Oh, there you are. Dear me, don't I seem to remember -" sniff- sniff- sniff- prolonged snort. "Of course! We have met!" "Hullo, old man," I said. "How goes it?" Bob wagged his tail perfunctorily. "Nicely, thank you. Let me just see -" he resumed his researches. "Been talking to a spaniel lately, I smell. Foolish dogs, I think. What's this? A cat? That is interesting. Wish we had her here. We'd have rare sport. H'm - not a bad bull terrier." Having correctly diagnosed a visit I had paid recently to some doggy friends, he transferred his attention to Poirot, inhaled a noseful of benzine and walked away reproachfully. "Bob", I called. He threw me a look over his shoulder. "It's all right. I know what I am doing. I'll be back in a jiffy.

A winnowing fan was droning away in one of the barns and dust poured out of the open door. On the threshold stood the master himself, Alyokhin, a man of about forty, tall, stout, with long hair, and he looked more like a professor or an artist than a landowner. He wore a white shirt that hadn't been washed for a very long time, and it was tied round with a piece of rope as a belt. Instead of trousers he was wearing underpants; mud and straw clung to his boots. His nose and eyes were black with dust. He immediately recognised Ivan Ivanych and Burkin, and was clearly delighted to see them. 'Please come into the house, gentlemen,' he said, smiling, 'I'll be with you in a jiffy.' It was a large house, with two storeys. Alyokhin lived on the ground floor in the two rooms with vaulted ceilings and small windows where his estate managers used to live. They were simply furnished and smelled of rye bread, cheap vodka and harness. He seldom used the main rooms upstairs, reserving them for guests. Ivan Ivanych and Burkin were welcomed by the maid, who was such a beautiful young woman that they both stopped and stared at each other. 'You can't imagine how glad I am to see you, gentlemen,' Alyokhin said as he followed them into the hall. 'A real surprise!' Then he turned to the maid and said, 'Pelageya, bring some dry clothes for the gentlemen. I suppose I'd better change too. But I must have a wash first, or you'll think I haven't had one since spring. Would you like to come to the bathing-hut while they get things ready in the house?' The beautiful Pelageya, who had such a dainty look and a gentle face, brought soap and towels, and Alyokhin went off with his guests to the bathing-hut. 'Yes, it's ages since I had a good wash,' he said as he undressed. 'As you can see, it's a nice hut. My father built it, but I never find time these days for a swim.' He sat on one of the steps and smothered his long hair and neck with soap; the water turned brown. 'Yes, I must confess...' Ivan Ivanych murmered, with a meaningful look at his head. 'Haven't had a wash for ages,' Alyokhin repeated in his embarrassment and soaped himself again; the water turned a dark inky blue.

There are endless variations on Broomstick Lace, also known as Jiffy Lace, and ways it can be combined with other stitches to create wonderful fabrics. The version demonstrated here is the most basic of these - master this and you can do the rest! For broom stick lace you will need one extra tool in addition to the usual yarn and hook - a dowel, large knitting needle, or even an actual

A potom hráli bingo o ceny. Jedinou cenou v bingu o ceny byla pokaždé plechovka čističe oken značky Jiffy. Plechovku čističe Jiffy nikdy nikdo nechtěl, takže si ji Kryton vždycky vzal zpět a mohl ji použít jako cenu do soutěže v příštím týdnu.

Oh joyous day! I’ll go get my great grandmama’s eye scoop and meet up with you dastardly fellows by the boundary in a jiffy.

On Sunday, after church, Aunt Gertrude said good-by to her nephews and went off with a ladies’ group to visit sick members of the congregation. The boys were alone in the house when the telephone rang. Frank answered and was delighted to hear his father’s voice. “Dad! What a swell surprise! Where are you?” “At Bayport Airport, son. Just landed from Paris this morning and then hopped a plane from New York. Think you and Joe could pick me up?” “You bet. We’ll be there in a jiffy!” Fifteen minutes later the tall, broad-shouldered investigator was embracing his two sons. “Boy, you look great, Dad!” Joe said. “How’d you make out on your case in Europe?” “Tell you about it later. Right now I could use some of Aunt Gertrude’s home cooking.” “You’re out of luck,” Frank said. “She won’t be home until three o’clock.” Mr. Hardy chuckled wryly. “In that case I’ll settle for ham and eggs at the nearest diner.” After stowing their father’s luggage in the trunk of the convertible, the boys took him to a roadside restaurant just outside Bayport. Soon the three were settled in a comfortable booth, enjoying their meal.

It shouldn’t have been sexy, but knowing he used those capable, nimble fingers to knit blankets for itty bitty babies made my ovaries want to burst like Jiffy Pop.

Guys, I’ve always wondered. You know how men get random stiffies, random boners?” I asked. “You mean a jiffy stiffy?” Oliver said. “Yeah.” I nodded. The booth we found ourselves in was at the back corner of the bar. I sat on the back couch with Damon next to me, while Oliver sat in front of us. With our beers in hand, we were discussing important topics. “What about it?” Damon pressed. “Do girls get drippy kitty?” I asked.

Y'all know that little gal Kelly Crawford that works down at Tuckers?" Tuckers Jiffy Lube was the only gas station and mechanical shop in town. Jena Lynn's face contorted in disapproval. "You referring to that scantily clad girl who runs the register?" I asked as Jena Lynn hopped up to retrieve the coffeepot. "That's the one." Betsy curled up her lip in disgust. "That girl is barely legal!" I was outraged. "I know! I'm going to tell her granny. She'll take a hickory switch to the girl when she finds out what she's been up to. She was all over Darnell." Betsy wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She was right about that. Her granny wasn't the type to spare the rod; she parented old-school style. Jena Lynn's tone rose as she stirred raw sugar into her coffee. "You caught them?" "Well, I called him after what happened with poor Mr. Ledbetter---" We shook our heads. "---told him I was going to be late 'cause I was taking that extra shift. Guess he thought late meant real late 'cause when I got home, they we're rootin' around on my couch, the one my meemaw gave me last spring when she had her house redecorated." We sat in stunned silence. "I threw his junk out last night. And when he still didn't budge from the TV"---she paused for effect---"I set it all on fire, right there in the front yard." She leaned back and crossed her arms over her expansive chest. "That's harsh." Sam stacked his empty plates. "Maybe it wasn't Darnell's fault." Jena Lynn and I gave him a disapproving glare. He appeared oblivious to his offense, and the moron had the audacity to reach into the container for a cream cheese Danish. "Sam, if you value that scrawny hand of yours, I'd pull it out real slow or you'll be drawing back a nub," Betsy warned. "Sheesh!" Sam jerked backward. It was obvious he didn't doubt her for a second. He marched toward the kitchen and dropped the plates in the bus tub with a loud thud. "He should know better. You don't touch a gal's comfort food in a time of crisis," I said, and my sister nodded in agreement. Jena Lynn patted Betsy on the arm. "Ignore him, Bets. He's a man." I stood. "And if I may be so bold as to speak for all the women of the world who have been unfortunate enough to be in your shoes, we applaud you." A satisfied smile spread across Betsy's lips. "Thank you." She took a little bow. "That's why my eyes look like they do. Smoke got to me." She leaned in closer. "I threw all his high school football trophies into the blaze while he was hollering at me. The whole neighborhood came out to watch." I chuckled. The thought of Darnell Fryer running around watching all his belongings go up in smoke was hilarious. I wished I'd been there. "Did anyone try to step in and help Darnell?" "Hell nah. He owes his buddies so much money from borrowing to pay his gambling debts, the ones that came out brought their camping chairs and watched the show while tossing back a few cold ones." She got up from the counter to scoop a glass full of ice and filled it with Diet Coke from the fountain. "Y'all, I gotta lose this weight now I'm back on the market." Betsy was one of a kind.

obvious Vali is a combination of the two. A perfect combination. God was definitely showing off when he made him.

Then don’t think of it as being too good to be true, think of it as being meant to be.

dandelion jelly,

perimeters

he continues. “So, what do you do at the farmer's

And this is a prime example of why Frankie Reeves can’t have nice things. She screws it up with all of her overthinking and overanalyzing. And then she starts speaking about herself in the third person. It’s embarrassing. Get ahold of yourself.

plastic knife

You’re going to the farmer's market?” He says it like I just told him I’m going to Timbuktu.

Who?” I ask, playing dumb. She laughs. “You’re the smartest girl I know, Frankie Reeves, but that heart of yours has a lot of catching up to do.

the animal poofed and left behind some meat and wool. “Score!” yelled The101greatone. “Wow, that was way easier with three people,” I said. “I told you.” “Hm, now we have to cook it,” said Alex. “We should’ve brought the furnace.” “It’s okay. I’ll craft one in a jiffy,” said The101greatone. Then he started punching the grass block below him.

Sometimes the second chance is better than the first time ever dreamed of being.

Searching again for the handle, I grab on to it and twist. My fight-or-flight mechanism is working and I feel the need to flee the scene—a virgin trying to escape a Viking. That sounds like a historical romance book I’d find in the local library, The Virgin and the Viking.

Did I just think about buying a goat to get a girl?

And that’s when my tears pick up. Seeing women cry is one thing. Seeing a massive Viking drop to his knees, declare his love, and plead for his love’s hand in marriage… that’s next level and something I wish I could write about in my next column, but I won’t.

on-board

infused honeys and jams from the fruit and herbs she’s frozen during the year.

Honey $5 Jam $3 Candles $4 We operate on the honor system. It’s an old American tradition. Don’t screw it up.

We’d also like to thank Nikki, our editor. Thank you for always approaching each new story with an insightful eye. You teach us things along the way, and we’d like to think we’re better writers because of you. Here’s to a dozen more books! For these Smartypants Romance (SPR) books we’ve found a couple new people to add to our arsenal of amazingness. Heather, our alpha reader. Thank you for your wonderfully insightful feedback. Janice, you’re a proofreading wizard! Thank you for polishing our manuscript and making it shine.

So he leaves you a note about doors, then he splits for destinations unknown, then he’s back in a jiffy, tickling your lady parts? I’m not the brightest bulb, honey, but there are holes in this story bigger than my boobs.

the cast-iron skillet that saved Deanna James from certain death. In sheer instinct, she flung it up to block the projectile hurtling toward her head. The thing struck hard, sending reverberations down her arms, even as glass shattered and sprayed her with heavy glass shards and bright yellow crumbs. “What the hell is wrong with you?” From inside the room, an unfamiliar voice dripped with shock and an accent that was more Motor City than Music City. “You asked for cornbread! That was freaking cornbread!” “Jiffy Mix is not cornbread!” the country music diva shouted, then let out a noise that was…not musical. At the banshee

obsession with her grandmother’s cornbread wasn’t remotely the strangest celebrity rider Deanna had dealt with in her career. In truth, she had to agree with the woman on the fundamental point that Jiffy Mix was some sad Yankee’s interpretation of cornbread. But it wasn’t worth the publicity nightmare that was going to ensue if Mercy Lee didn’t walk out on stage as contracted, or if she trashed any more of the venue dressing room in her outrage. Containing that prospective PR furor was why Deanna was here. “Okay, look. Everybody just calm down.” Stepping gingerly over the cornbread carnage, she

We have come to be danced not the pretty dance not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance but the claw our way back into the belly of the sacred, sensual animal dance the unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance the holding the precious moment in the palms of our hands and feet dance We have come to be danced not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance but the wring the sadness from our skin dance the blow the chip off our shoulder dance the slap the apology from our posture dance We have come to be danced not the monkey see, monkey do dance one, two dance like you one two three, dance like me dance but the grave robber, tomb stalker tearing scabs & scars open dance the rub the rhythm raw against our souls dance WE have come to be danced not the nice invisible, self conscious shuffle but the matted hair flying, voodoo mama shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance the strip us from our casings, return our wings sharpen our claws & tongues dance the shed dead cells and slip into the luminous skin of love dance We have come to be danced not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance but the meeting of the trinity: the body, breath & beat dance the shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance the mother may I? yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance the Olly Olly Oxen Free Free Free dance the everyone can come to our heaven dance We have come to be danced where the kingdom’s collide in the cathedral of flesh to burn back into the light to unravel, to play, to fly, to pray to root in skin sanctuary We have come to be danced WE HAVE COME

Massage parlour London:-> At Asian massage London, we offer the most amazing Asian massage sessions in London. All our masseuses are gracious, alluring, forthcoming, skilled and chivalrous and will make your experience happy from the jiffy you assemble them. As each one of them seizes her exclusive prettiness and striking personality, you have the occasion to any prefer the single you like the most excellent. You will love her sexy moves and unique sensations resulting from this amazing experience.

I didn’t even know a piece of me was missing until I had her for the first time.

Sensual Asian massage London:-> We make the finest effort so that our massage parlour London masseuses are fully skilled in the art of offering lascivious and sensual massage. The genuinely take glee in giving contentment to others and the masseuses can make you squirm with pleasure with each of their strokes. Our Asian masseuses put forward diverse fashion of kneads healing; they will furnish you the preeminent ever and cherished jiffy of your life. This naturist rub leisurely seduces you into enticement, expand your intellect and extend your ability with an unbelievably sultry massage.

He was in all my plans … five-year, ten-year … retirement. And now, I’m left figuring out who I am without him.

Operation: Make Tempest Happy. Because if I don't, who will?

You know he doesn’t define you, right?” I start. “The only thing he did for you was provide life experience, which you’ve grown from and become a tougher person because of. That’s it.

I know when you’re going through the pain… hurt, betrayal… it’s easy to be consumed by it. You think you’ll never recover, but then one day, you wake up and realize it doesn’t cut as deep… and you move on.

I was reviews editor, which I was hopeless at seeing as it required organisation, decisions, delegation and ability to decipher which singles, albums, films, videos, concerts, books and competitions were best suited to the viewers from an actual Alpine avalanche of Jiffy bags permanently engulfing the reviews desk. This was music industry boom time,

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prints, but we do have something else.”             We followed her down the corridor to where the package was been subjected to the most intense scrutiny by another two members of the forensic department, who I did not know.             “Look at this,” Rebecca gestured towards a scanner. “We’ve scanned every inch of the jiffy bag at a resolution of 208-1995, that is to say, the highest resolution specification we can possibly do right here and now,” she added, sensing quite rightly that the technical specifications meant nothing to either

We cannot hedge-plan for relationships

If we weren’t running late already, I’d pull this truck onto a dirt road and show her just what she does to me.

She turns me on and makes me want to consume her like a burning blaze.

The journey from the intangible thought to the tangible product is going to happen in a jiffy.

The sound of tires rolling over a side street full of shattered light bulbs was like the sound of Jiffy Pop achieving climax ...

Chili Upside-Down Pie Serves 6 Ingredients 1-1/2 Pounds Ground Beef 1/2 Cup Chopped Onions (1 Cup if you love onions) 1 Tablespoon Chili Powder 1 Small Can of Tomato Paste 1 Small Can of Tomato Sauce 1 Can of Chili Beans 1-1/4 Teaspoons Salt Sliced Jalapenos (optional) 1 Package Corn Muffin Mix (like Jiffy Mix) 1 Egg 1/4 Cup Milk 1 Small Can of Creamed Sweet Corn 2 Cups Shredded Cheddar Cheese Chili Brown ground beef and onions. Drain grease. Add chili powder, salt, tomato paste, and tomato sauce. Cook 30 minutes. Add chili beans and cook 10 minutes. Put meat mixture in 9”x13” pan. Corn Bread: Mix muffin mix, egg, milk, and creamed corn well. Pour over meat mixture. Bake for 25 minutes at 400o F or until golden brown. Let stand 2 minutes and then turn over onto cookie sheet. Top with shredded cheddar cheese and place in turned-off oven until melted.

The second type of linear business model is a services company. Examples range from Oracle to JP Morgan to Jiffy Lube. These companies hire employees who provide services to customers. Generally, services companies fall in one of two camps. The first kind makes and sells physical services. Your car mechanic and plumber both fall into this category. The second builds human capital or intangible assets, like intellectual property, and uses those assets to sell specialized services.

Through my anger management sessions, I’ve learned I'm allowed to feel any emotion I want. It’s what I do about them that makes the difference.

Everyone in life has the possibility of hurting you. If you allow yourself to love and be loved, you risk being hurt. That’s just how it is. It’s the risk you take when you give your heart away. But if we never give it away, we never have the chance to find true happiness.

Reese’s Corn Bread Chili Pie For a weekday dinner with family, you need something that will please both kids and adults and that isn’t too complicated to make. My favorite thing is chili pie. This is an easy one-dish dinner if you are using a cast-iron or other oven-safe skillet. If using a baking dish or casserole, cook the filling on the stove top in a skillet or sauté pan and transfer to the baking dish before adding the corn bread batter topping. 2 tablespoons olive oil 1 medium onion, chopped 2 cloves garlic, minced 1 pound ground beef 1 pound ground pork 2 (1.75 oz.) packets chili seasoning 1 (14 oz.) can diced tomatoes 2 tablespoons tomato paste 2 cups chicken broth 2 (8.5 oz.) boxes Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix 2 eggs

2/3 cup milk 1 cup frozen corn, divided 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese 1 (16 oz.) can kidney beans, drained Optional toppings: Fresh salsa, fresh chopped green onion, sour cream, shredded cheddar cheese 1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. 2. In a 9- or 10-inch cast-iron skillet or sauté pan, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add the onion and sauté for 1 minute before adding the garlic. Sauté for another minute and add the ground beef and pork, breaking up the meat with a wooden spoon and stirring until the meat is brown. 3. Drain off any excess fat and stir in the chili seasoning, diced tomatoes, and tomato paste. Mix over medium heat for 1 minute, then pour in the chicken broth. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. 4. While the meat simmers, make the corn bread mixture: Stir together the Jiffy mix, eggs, and milk in a mixing bowl until just combined (do not overmix). Stir 1/2 cup of the frozen corn and the cheese into the corn bread batter and set aside.

Don't worry City boy, I'll be back in a jiffy and then I'll make you see stars." - Luke Gunner Guns Blazing

By 1950, cornbread mixes abounded, many the products of local or regional companies. The Chicago-based giant Jiffy, with its sweet flavor, began to make inroads into southern pantries.