Nozzle Quotes

I tried to push down my anger. One thing I hated more than Daemon's douche-nozzle side was him telling me what to do. "You don't own me, Daemon." "It's not about ownership, you little nut." "Nut?" I glared at him. "I wouldn't call me names when I have a knife in my hand.

It was a pleasure to burn. It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he flicked the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace, while the flapping pigeon-winged books died on the porch and lawn of the house. While the books went up in sparkling whirls and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning.

Dr. Pervy-Pants Dr. Depravity Dr. Ain't-Puttin'-Out Dr. Bossy-as-Fuck Dr. Obsessive-Compulsive Dr. Kinkybones Dr. Deviant Dr. Oh-So-Proper-I-Iron-My-Jeans Dr. Lick-My-Boots Dr. Smug-as-Shit Dr. Love-Me-Love-My-Butt-Nozzle Dr. Damn-Your-Dick-is-Motherfucking-Big Dr. Full-of-Shit Dr. Smack-a-Lot Dr. Ruined-Me-For-Anyone-Else

I may have at some point referred to him as a douche nozzle.

There’s an opening at Mom’s campaign,” I say. “She needs all the help she can get now that she’s totally distracted by Clay Tucker.” “Who the hell’s Clay Tucker?” “The…” Nan lowers her voice, even though all she says is: “…younger man Samantha’s mother’s dating.” “Your ma’s dating?” Tim looks shocked. “I thought she pretty much confined herself to a vibrator and the shower nozzle since your dad screwed her over.

Puck swung the cannon around in anger. The nozzle spun and hit Sabrina in the chest. The force was so pawerful she was knocked right off the platform and fell backward off the tower. She saw sky above her and felt the wind in her hair. How ironic, she thought, as she fell to her certain death, that at that moment she would have given anything to be a giant goose again. Air rushed past Sabrina's ears and suddenly she felt her back tingling again. A moment later she was hanging upside down, inches from the ground. She looked up to find her savior, only to find that her her wasn't a person but a long, furry tail sticking out of the back of her pants. It was wrapped around a beam in the tower a kept her swinging there like a monkey. Puck floated down to her, his wings flapping softly enough to allow him to hover. "I bet you think this is hilarious. Look what you did to me with your stupid pranks. I have a tail!" she raged. Puck's face was trembling. "I'm sorry." "What?" Sabrina said blankly. "I almost killed you. I'm sorry, Sabrina," he said, rubbing his eyes on his filthy hoodie. He lifted her off the tower and set her on the ground. "Since when do you care?" Sabrina said, still stunned by the boy's apology.

Your ma's dating?" Tim looks shocked. "I thought she pretty much confined herself to a vibrator and the shower nozzle since your dad screwed her over.

There are five levels of the douche hierarchy: douche, douche bag, douche canoe, douche nozzle and right at the top, the king of it all, when the douche is displaying phenomenal amounts of doucheness, is a douche rocket. It’s when someone is such a douche, like the KING of douches, they can no longer be described as a douche nozzle, they are ALL the levels of douchery put together, and douche rocked is used.

To the rocket scientist, you are a problem. You are the most irritating piece of machinery he or she will ever have to deal with. You and your fluctuating metabolism, your puny memory, your frame that comes in a million different configurations. You are unpredictable. You're inconstant. You take weeks to fix. The engineer must worry about the water and oxygen and food you'll need in space, about how much extra fuel it will take to launch your shrimp cocktail and irradiated beef tacos. A solar cell or a thruster nozzle is stable and undemanding. It does not excrete or panic or fall in love with the mission commander. It has no ego. Its structural elements don't start to break down without gravity, and it works just fine without sleep. To me, you are the best thing to happen to rocket science. The human being is the machine that makes the whole endeavor so endlessly intriguing.

Only her eyes seem to move. It's like they touch us, not with sight or sense, but like the stream from a hose touches you, the stream at the instant of impact as dissociated from the nozzle as though it had never been there.

That dude is a class-A douche nozzle." -Braeden

Tereza tried to see herself through her body. That is why, from girlhood on, she would stand before the mirror so often. And because she was afraid her mother would catch her at it, every peek into the mirror had a tinge of secret vice. It was not vanity that drew her to the mirror; it was amaze­ment at seeing her own "I." She forgot she was looking at the instrument panel of her body mechanisms; she thought she saw her soul shining through the features of her face. She forgot that the nose was merely the nozzle of a hose that took oxygen to the lungs; she saw it as the true expression of her nature. Staring at herself for long stretches of time, she was occa­sionally upset at the sight of her mother's features in her face. She would stare all the more doggedly at her image in an attempt to wish them away and keep only what was hers alone. Each time she succeeded was a time of intoxication: her soul would rise to the surface of her body like a crew charging up from the bowels of a ship, spreading out over the deck, waving at the sky and singing in jubilation.

I tighten my finger on the trigger of the nozzle, sending a stream of water straight to his chest. He tries to jump out of the way, but he’s too close to avoid it. “Oopsie.” I shrug and smile coyly.

The Elms was the Johnsons’ Washington, D.C., mansion and it was equipped with a shower like nothing the staff had ever seen: water charging out of multiple nozzles in every direction with needlelike intensity and a hugely powerful force. One nozzle was pointed directly at the president’s penis, which he nicknamed “Jumbo.” Another shot right up his rear.

Your ma’s dating?” Tim looks shocked. “I thought she pretty much confined herself to a vibrator and the shower nozzle since your dad screwed her over.

I could feel the tears start to spurt from the screwed-up nozzles of my eyes.

When she tried to put the nozzle back onto the pump, it kept falling off because her hands were shaking. She didn't feel anything at all, but she couldn't get her hands to stop shaking. By the time she looked up, Troy was already gone. He had gotten into his car (white sedan, broken taillight) and pulled away without looking at her once. She forced herself to stand very still and breathe slowly until her hands stopped shaking. Once they were steady, she put the nozzle back onto the pump, deliberately opened her car door, and drove away at a reasonable speed. The entire time she felt fine.

The younger, certainly, had to the full that charm of a constitutional freshness of aspect which may defy for a long time extravagant or erring habits of life; a physiognomy healthy-looking, cleanly, and firm, which seemed unassociable with any form of self-tormenting, and made one think of the nozzle of some young hound or roe, such as human beings invariably like to stroke—with all the goodliness, that is, of the finer sort of animalism, though still wholly animal. It was the charm of the blond head, the unshrinking gaze, the warm tints:—neither more nor less than one may see every English summer, in youth, manly enough, and with the stuff in it which makes brave soldiers, in spite of the natural kinship it seems to have with playthings and gay flowers.

I take baths. Not showers. I can’t handle the spray, it gets my skin buzzing, like someone’s turned on a switch. So I wadded a flimsy motel towel over the grate in the shower floor, aimed the nozzle at the wall, and sat in the three inches of water that pooled in the stall.

firefighters cannot extinguish a fire in a twenty- or thirty-thousand-square-foot open floor area in a high-rise building. A fire company advancing a 2½-inch hoseline with a 1¼-inch nozzle discharges only three hundred gallons per minute and can extinguish only about twenty-five hundred square feet of fire.

my flamethrower nozzle fit perfectly inside of it.” Woody inserted the flamethrower into the smokestack and held down the trigger. It poured a violent stream of fire down into the fortification. In a single act, he burned the occupants to death and silenced the machine guns that had killed dozens of U.S. Marines.

Communication is like a pressure relief valve for your body. When a little pressure gets cooked up inside and needs to be released, you can gently turn the nozzle and release it slowly and gracefully until you feel better, by way of a productive conversation. But if you choose to ignore the warning signals and leave that pressure inside, it's going to grow and inevitably explode and make a mess, by way of an overreaction and possibly an argument.

LE CHIFFRE looked incuriously at him, the whites of his eyes, which showed all round the irises, lending something impassive and doll-like to his gaze. He slowly removed one thick hand from the table and slipped it into the pocket of his dinner-jacket. The hand came out holding a small metal cylinder with a cap which Le Chiffre unscrewed. He inserted the nozzle of the cylinder, with an obscene deliberation, twice into each black nostril in turn, and luxuriously inhaled the benzedrine vapour.

Forget about showering with my fellow students in Tribeca Alternative’s prison-style showers—one nozzle for four to six girls at a time—in the locker room. It was impossible to work up a sweat during what passed for physical education class at TAHS, so there was no need to shower, anyway. Well, impossible for me, considering that, in the past, whenever a volleyball or whatever came near me, I’d always make sure to step calmly away to avoid it. See? No sweat. No need for a shower. Problem solved.

it would cost $250,000. Musk declared that insane and told Mueller they should make it themselves. They were able to do so in months at a fraction of the cost. Another supplier quoted a price of $120,000 for an actuator that would swivel the nozzle of the upper-stage engines. Musk declared it was not more complicated than a garage door opener, and he told one of his engineers to make it for $5,000. Jeremy Hollman, one of the young engineers working for Mueller, discovered that a valve that was used to mix liquids in a car wash system could be modified to work with rocket fuel.

Intimacy The woman in the cafe making my cappuccino — dark eyes, dyed red hair, sleeveless black turtleneck — used to be lovers with the man I’m seeing now. She doesn’t know me; we’re strangers, but still I can’t glance at her casually, as I used to, before I knew. She stands at the machine, sinking the nozzle into a froth of milk, staring at nothing — I don’t know what she’s thinking. For all I know she might be remembering my lover, remembering whatever happened between them — he’s never told me, except to say that it wasn’t important, and then he changed the subject quickly, too quickly now that I think about it; might he, after all, have been lying, didn’t an expression of pain cross his face for just and instant? I can’t be sure. And really it was nothing, I tell myself; there’s no reason for me to feel awkward standing here, or complicitous, as though there’s something significant between us. She could be thinking of anything; why, now, do I have the sudden suspicion that she knows, that she feels me studying her, trying to imagine them together?— her lipstick’s dark red, darker than her hair — trying to see him kissing her, turning her over in bed the way he likes to have me. I wonder if maybe there were things about her he preferred, things he misses now that we’re together; sometimes, when he and I are making love, there are moments I’m overwhelmed by sadness, and though I’m there with him I can’t help thinking of my ex-husband’s hands, which I especially loved, and I want to go back to that old intimacy, which often felt like the purest happiness I’d ever known, or would. But all that’s over; and besides, weren’t there other lovers who left no trace? When I see them now, I can barely remember what they looked like undressed, or how it felt to have them inside me. So what is it I feel as she pours the black espresso into the milk, and pushes the cup toward me, and I give her the money, and our eyes meet for just a second, and our fingers touch?

A 1997 study of the consumer product design firm IDEO found that most of the company’s biggest successes originated as “combinations of existing knowledge from disparate industries.” IDEO’s designers created a top-selling water bottle, for example, by mixing a standard water carafe with the leak-proof nozzle of a shampoo container. The power of combining old ideas in new ways also extends to finance, where the prices of stock derivatives are calculated by mixing formulas originally developed to describe the motion of dust particles with gambling techniques. Modern bike helmets exist because a designer wondered if he could take a boat’s hull, which can withstand nearly any collision, and design it in the shape of a hat. It even reaches to parenting, where one of the most popular baby books—Benjamin Spock’s The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care, first published in 1946—combined Freudian psychotherapy with traditional child-rearing techniques. “A lot of the people we think of as exceptionally creative are essentially intellectual middlemen,” said Uzzi. “They’ve learned how to transfer knowledge between different industries or groups. They’ve seen a lot of different people attack the same problems in different settings, and so they know which kinds of ideas are more likely to work.” Within sociology, these middlemen are often referred to as idea or innovation brokers. In one study published in 2004, a sociologist named Ronald Burt studied 673 managers at a large electronics company and found that ideas that were most consistently ranked as “creative” came from people who were particularly talented at taking concepts from one division of the company and explaining them to employees in other departments. “People connected across groups are more familiar with alternative ways of thinking and behaving,” Burt wrote. “The between-group brokers are more likely to express ideas, less likely to have ideas dismissed, and more likely to have ideas evaluated as valuable.” They were more credible when they made suggestions, Burt said, because they could say which ideas had already succeeded somewhere else.

Cavity embalming has the same general purpose as arterial embalming: you take the old fluids out and put new fluids in, to kill bacteria and halt decomposition long enough for a viewing and a funeral. But whereas arterial embalming used the body’s natural circulatory system to make the job easy, cavity embalming involved a lot of individual organs and unconnected spaces that had to be dealt with one by one. We accomplished this with a tool called a trocar - basically a long, bladed nozzle attached to a vacuum. We used the trocar to puncture a body and suck out the gunk, a process called ‘aspiration’, and then once we’d sucked everything out we cleaned the trocar and attached it to a different tube, so it could drizzle in another chemical cocktail similar to the one we put in the arteries.

Sat in the Jacuzzi last night looking at the dark recesses of the nozzles. Remembering the story I wrote about spiders nesting there. Multifaceted eyes watching me watching them, almost like when you set two mirrors parallel to each other, accept this infinity ends up in some fuzzy creature’s belly. I have a nice picture of a Hobo spider in my backyard, venom dripping off one of those nasty fangs of theirs. Son of a bitch is looking at me and his mouth is watering waiting for me to stick my hand under the rock he’s nested in. I hate it when you spray a spider with insecticide and it curls up for a few minutes, then uncurls and staggers home. I’m like an arachnid cheap date that sucks!! I just picture the spider staggering into the nest and the female spider asking, “Is that Raid I smell on you?” The spider just smiles (interesting thing to picture) and passes out.

As Sam came to a panting stop, a jet of orange flame burst from a high window. Several dozen kids were standing, watching. A crowd that struck Sam as very strange, until he realized why it was strange: there were no adults, just kids. “Is anyone in there?” Astrid called out. No one answered. “It could spread,” Sam said. “There’s no 911,” someone pointed out. “If it spreads, it could burn down half the town.” “You see a fireman anywhere?” A helpless shrug. The day care shared a wall with the hardware store, and both were only a narrow alley away from the burning building. Sam figured they had time to get the kids out of the day care if they acted fast, but the hardware store was something they could not afford to lose. There had to be forty kids just standing there gawking. No one seemed about to start doing anything. “Great,” Sam said. He grabbed two kids he sort of knew. “You guys, go to the day care. Tell them to get the littles out of there.” The kids stared at him without moving. “Now. Go. Do it!” he said, and they took off running. Sam pointed at two other kids. “You and you. Go into the hardware store, get the longest hose you can find. Get a spray nozzle, too. I think there’s a spigot in that alley. Start spraying water on the side of the hardware store and up on the roof.” These two also stared blankly. “Dudes: Not tomorrow. Now. Now. Go! Quinn? You better go with them. We want to wet down the hardware—that’s where the wind will take the fire next.” Quinn hesitated. People were not getting this. How could they not see that they had to do something, not just stand around? Sam pushed to the front of the crowd and in a loud voice said, “Hey, listen up, this isn’t the Disney Channel. We can’t just watch this happen. There are no adults. There’s no fire department. We are the fire department.” Edilio was there. He said, “Sam’s right. What do you need, Sam? I’m with you.” “Okay. Quinn? The hoses from the hardware store. Edilio? Let’s get the big hoses from the fire station, hook ’em up to the hydrant.” “They’ll be heavy. I’ll need some strong guys.” “You, you, you, you.” Sam grabbed each person’s shoulder, shaking each one, pushing them into motion. “Come on. You. You. Let’s go!

Two kilos out from the pillbox, they spotted it: a single stainless-steel silo toppled over with twisted landing fins jutting out of the underbrush, surrounded by redwoods thick as rocket boosters themselves. It was covered with dead leaves and broken branches. The booster was bent halfway up the shaft, and the fuel nozzle was crumpled like a tin can under the weight of the landing. Standing over the wreck, Nadine felt like a paleontologist coming across the fossilized remains of a long-dead dinosaur.

There was a thin groove in the marble wall, a channel barely three inches deep. It curved along the entire length of the wall, extending beyond the limits of her sight. She swiped her finger in the groove; it was smooth as glass and held a faint residue of something slimy. A small silver lamp hung from the wall, and she put her torch in its place as she took down the lamp, liquid splashing inside. “Clever,” she murmured. Smiling to herself, making sure her torch was far enough away, Celaena placed the slender nozzle of the lamp into the groove and tipped. Oil poured out and traveled down the chute. Celaena grabbed her torch and touched it to the wall. Instantly, the groove glowed with fire, providing a thin line of light all the way down the dark and cobwebbed stairwell. A hand on her hip, she stared down, admiring the engraved surface of the walls.

With a clattering of chairs, upended shell cases, benches, and ottomans, Pirate’s mob gather at the shores of the great refectory table, a southern island well across a tropic or two from chill Corydon Throsp’s mediaeval fantasies, crowded now over the swirling dark grain of its walnut uplands with banana omelets, banana sandwiches, banana casseroles, mashed bananas molded into the shape of a British lion rampant, blended with eggs into batter for French toast, squeezed out a pastry nozzle across the quivering creamy reaches of a banana blancmange to spell out the words C’est magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la guerre (attributed to a French observer during the Charge of the Light Brigade) which Pirate has appropriated as his motto . . . tall cruets of pale banana syrup to pour oozing over banana waffles, a giant glazed crock where diced bananas have been fermenting since the summer with wild honey and muscat raisins, up out of which, this winter morning, one now dips foam mugsfull of banana mead . . . banana croissants and banana kreplach, and banana oatmeal and banana jam and banana bread, and bananas flamed in ancient brandy Pirate brought back last year from a cellar in the Pyrenees also containing a clandestine radio transmitter. . . .

First Officer William Warms had given the order. It is almost certain there would have been no fire drill if Captain Robert Wilmott had been in full command. Warms’s order directly contradicted a policy the master of the Morro Castle first instituted on June 16, 1934. On that day—in violation of the seaworthy certificate issued by the government’s Bureau of Navigation and Steamboat Inspection, and at the risk of endangering the lives of everybody on board—Captain Wilmott had banned all further fire drills. His order could lay him open to prosecution, imprisonment, and the certain loss of his master’s license. Confronted by the classic dilemma of the company man, Wilmott had acted in what he believed to be the Ward Line’s best interests. The basis for his decision was simple. In May 1934, during a fire drill, a woman passenger had fallen on a deck wet down by a leaking joint connection between a fire hose and its hydrant. She fractured an ankle and hired a good lawyer, and the Ward Line settled out of court for twenty-five thousand dollars. Captain Wilmott, after a visit to the shipping line office, ordered the Morro Castledeck fire hydrants capped and sealed; 2100 feet of fire hose was locked away, along with nozzles, outlets, and wrenches for each length of hose. Whether the captain received positive instructions from an executive of the Ward Line, or whether he acted independently, is not known, nor is it important. What is known is that as a result of Wilmott’s order, the pride of the American merchant marine, one of the fastest and most luxurious liners afloat, became from that moment on, a floating fire hazard in all but its cargo holds. If a fire started in any of the passenger areas, the only pieces of equipment readily available to fight it were seventy-three half-gallon portable fire extinguishers and twenty-one carbon tetrachloride extinguishers.

FDM (Fused Deposition Modeling) 3D printing is a type of additive manufacturing technology that works by extruding thermoplastic filament material layer by layer to build up a three-dimensional object. Here are some details defining FDM 3D printing: Process: FDM 3D printing involves melting a thermoplastic filament, usually ABS (Acrylonitrile Butadiene Styrene) or PLA (Polylactic Acid), and extruding it through a heated nozzle. The nozzle moves along a predetermined path, depositing the material layer by layer to create the desired object. Materials: FDM printers primarily use thermoplastic materials, which are available in various colors and types, each with its own properties such as strength, flexibility, and heat resistance. Common materials include ABS, PLA, PETG, TPU, and more. Layer Resolution: FDM printers have a layer resolution, which refers to the thickness of each layer of material deposited during printing. The layer resolution determines the level of detail and surface finish achievable in the printed object. Lower layer heights result in finer details but increase printing time. Build Volume: This refers to the maximum size of the object that can be printed in terms of length, width, and height. FDM printers come in various sizes, offering different build volumes to accommodate different project requirements. Support Structures: FDM printers often require support structures for overhanging or complex geometries. These supports are printed alongside the object and later removed manually or with tools after printing is complete. Heated Build Plate: Many FDM printers feature a heated build plate, which helps prevent warping and improves adhesion between the first layer of the print and the build surface. A heated build plate is particularly useful when printing materials like ABS. Dual Extrusion: Some FDM printers support dual extrusion, allowing for the simultaneous use of two different materials or colors during printing. This capability enables more complex prints with multiple colors or materials. Post-Processing: After printing, FDM-printed objects may require post-processing to improve surface finish or functionality. This can include sanding, painting, smoothing with acetone (for ABS), or other finishing techniques. FDM 3D printing is widely used in various industries, including prototyping, manufacturing, education, and hobbyist applications, due to its relatively low cost, ease of use, and versatility.

Scientists seek unique, correct theories, and if several theories seem plausible, all but one must be wrong, while engineers seek options for working designs, and if several options will work, success is assured. •​Scientists seek theories that apply across the widest possible range (the Standard Model applies to everything), while engineers seek concepts well-suited to particular domains (liquid-cooled nozzles for engines in liquid-fueled rockets). •​Scientists seek theories that make precise, hence brittle predictions (like Newton’s), while engineers seek designs that provide a robust margin of safety. •​In science a single failed prediction can disprove a theory, no matter how many previous tests it has passed, while in engineering one successful design can validate a concept, no matter how many previous versions have failed.

I got you all sweaty. I thought the least I could do would be to clean you up. And I thought you’d prefer a shower to a quick hosedown with the spray nozzle on the kitchen sink.” She rolled her eyes. “I love a man with that kind of intuition.” “I try.

You can never be too sure which direction the nozzle is facing.

The Shraken-nurse turned on the nozzles for each of the drips, and the contents began to work their respective ways through his system. The left drip had a chill to it that made him feel like he was bathing in a ice-bath pumped full of extra strong Earth-based mint; while the right hand fluids were warm and fuzzy, like he was four years old and sleeping in a barrelful of teddy-bears on a hot summer’s day. They quickly found their way up to his brain, and collided there in a meeting of hot and cold that, had the encounter happened in the atmosphere, would have produced the biggest cumulus cloud in the cosmos.

Denny had been a little skeptical of her mother's fix-it ideas ever since the night her mother had fixed the shower head drip by putting a balloon over the nozzle. Getting hit by a giant, ice-cold water balloon when she'd stepped, half-asleep, into the shower the next morning had not been Denny's idea of a swell way to start the day.

plate. For all the flames, the chicken looked golden brown and crisp. Tracy had no idea how Dan did it. He turned the knobs off, killing the flames, then shut off the nozzle supplying

basement, cranked open a faucet, and aimed the nozzle at her naked body, blasting her with ice-cold water. Even then she didn’t scream. She had no scream left in her. “You’re disgusting.” She supposed

Jack dropped his own pack from his shoulders, reached in and grabbed the medical kit. He opened it and took a quick inventory. Much of it he didn’t recognize, but he saw what looked like big band aids and grabbed two of those, a roll of gauze, a tube that said antibacterial, and a tube that said coagulant. He glanced at the instructions on the tube of coagulant. It said ‘squeeze liberal amount into wound, cover wound with skin patch.’ Jack opened the tube and shoved the tube nozzle into the small hole and squeezed.

Ten seconds before launch, I feel the vibration from the Sound Suppression Water System. Water pours from a 300,000-gallon tank through pipes and nozzles into the launch trench to protect the shuttle and launch tower from damage by shock waves and rocket exhaust.

I closed my eyes, laid my head back on the pillow, and savored my first moments alone with my child. Seconds later, the door to my room opened and my brother-in-law, Tim, walked in. He’d just finished working a huge load of cattle. Marlboro Man would have been, too, if I hadn’t gone into labor the night before. “Hey!” Tim said enthusiastically. “How’s it going?” I yanked the bedsheet far enough north to cover the baby’s head and my exposed breast; as much as I loved my new brother-in-law, I just couldn’t see myself being that open with him. He caught on immediately. “Oops--did I come at a bad time?” Tim asked, a deer caught in the headlights. “You just missed your brother,” I said. The baby’s lips fell off my nipple and she rooted around and tried to find it again. I tried to act like nothing was happening under the covers. “No kidding?” Tim asked, looking nervously around the room. “Oh, I should have called first.” “Come on in,” I said, sitting up in the bed as tall as I could. The epidural had definitely worn off. My bottom was beginning to throb. “How’s the baby?” he asked, wanting to look but unsure if he should look in her direction. “She’s great,” I answered, pulling the little one out from under the covers. I prayed I could get my nipple quickly tucked away without incident. Tim smiled as he regarded his new niece. “She’s so cute,” he said tenderly. “Can I hold her?” He reached out his arms like a child wanting to hold a puppy. “Sure,” I said, handing her over, my bottom stinging by now. All I could think about was getting in the shower and spraying it with the nozzle I’d noticed earlier in the day when the nurse escorted me to the bathroom. I’d started obsessing over it, in fact. The nozzle was all I could think about. Tim seemed as surprised at the baby’s gender as his brother had been. “I was shocked when I heard!” he said, looking at me with a smile. I laughed, imagining what Marlboro Man’s dad might be thinking. That the first grandchild in such a male-dominated ranching family turned out to be a girl was becoming more humorous to me each minute. This was going to be an adventure.

Inventors of the world’s first purgative superhero, EneMan: an enema bottle with arms and legs and a pointy nozzle head, dressed in a green cape. (Plush-toy EneMen occasionally turn up on eBay, not that I was looking.)

When he was barely six, his mother found him trying to blow the nozzle of her douche like a horn. Mortified but amused, she responded by giving the boy a small fife to play with.

Key to Ratings: Probably OK = (X) Not ideal = (XX) Pretty bad = (XXX) Definitely dangerous = (XXXX) ~ ~ ~ How bad is it to drink water out of a bottle that you left in the car for weeks? (X) First, know that despite scary e-mail forwards from nervous relatives, you needn’t worry about disposable plastic water bottles leaching cancer-causing chemicals into the liquid, according to the American Cancer Society. Commercial water bottles often don’t contain concerning hormone-disrupting chemicals like bisphenol A ( BPA) or phthalates either. But any used bottle can harbor germs from saliva backwash, says Charles Gerba, a microbiologist at the University of Arizona and coauthor of The Germ Freak’s Guide to Outwitting Colds and Flu. Surprisingly, “that’s not really a problem as long as you don’t share the bottle with other people,” he says, since your immune system has already dealt with whatever cold, flu, or other germs may be in your mouth. One exception: sports bottles that you’ve used your thumb or fingers to press shut. Bacteria such as E. coli or Staphylococcus on your hands can contaminate the nozzle when you press it down and then flourish in the

Armstrong’s hydro-electric machine – to its visitors. This gargantuan piece of equipment could be used to mount a truly spectacular extravaganza of sparks and explosions. The press was duly primed to note its substantial dimensions, with a boiler 7.5ft long and 3.5ft in diameter, to produce steam; the steam then came gushing out of a series of nozzles to produce the electricity, which powered the whole contraption.

Beautiful blueberry nights fill my liver with morning and the nozzle of my heart spews forth an amalgam of blood. The sun rides the elevator up from the darkness, and the silken, waving wheat sways like a woman's raw cotton skirt. The wheels of the pit-head elevator turn backward, and columns of cherry-tree trunks girdled with white lime reveal the hidden location of military burial grounds. Watchmen guard the female convicts in their wire enclosure, and swallows deliver the message of violins in their beaks.

embout /ɑ̃bu/ nm (de canne, cigare) tip; (de tuyau, d'aspirateur) nozzle; (de pipe) mouthpiece embout applicateur nozzle embouteillage

turning the nozzle toward my clit, I let it get me off.

Terrible terrible thing—not to be liked; not to be even necessary. If a great big nozzle sucked me into oblivion, there isn’t a clock’d stop ticking.

I hold my right hand up, glance around to make sure no one is nearby, and then give her a wicked grin as I place my left on one of her breasts, watching her eyes widen and her face flush. “I swear on this perfect titty that I will get us safely to the beach house. I will follow your rules of non-douche-nozzleness, and I’ll even let you hold my phone so you can use my GPS to be my super sexy navigator.

It is amazing, he said, how little variation, too hot or too cold, can lead to complaints. We have efficient HVAC systems - that stands for heating, ventilation, and air-conditioning - and in the summer, we try to keep things ten to fifteen degrees cooler than it is outside. We are constantly checking them, so it is a big operation. But of course no one notices the temperature unless it becomes uncomfortable, when the nozzles get blocked, or there's a local break-down in the system. And, he added with a laugh, you don't ever notice your oxygen until it's gone: something goes wrong with the HVAC, even for fifteen minutes, and people are ready to riot.

Not unlike the herbicide-spraying campaigns in Asia, Central Europe was also flown over by helicopters spraying chemicals intended to wipe out the deciduous forests, which had gone out of fashion. Beech and oak trees held very little value at that time; low oil prices meant that no one was interested in firewood. The scales were tilted in favour of spruce – sought after by the timber industry and safe from being devoured by the high game populations. Over 5,000 square kilometres of deciduous woodlands was cleared just in my local region of Eifel and Hunsrück, through this merciless method of dropping death from the air. The carrier for the substance, sold under the trade name Tormona, was diesel oil. Elements of this mixture may still lurk in the soil of our forests today; the rusty diesel drums are certainly still lying around in some places. Have things improved now? Not completely, because chemical sprays are still used, even if they’re not directed at the trees themselves. The target of the helicopters and trucks with their atomising nozzles is the insects that feed on the trees and wood. Because the drab spruce and pine monocultures give free rein to bark beetles and butterfly caterpillars, these are then bumped off with contact insecticides. The pesticides, with names like Karate, are so lethal for three months that mere contact spells the end for any unfortunate insects. Parts of a forest that have been sprayed with pesticide are usually marked and fenced off for a while, but wood piles at the side of the track are often not considered dangerous. I would therefore advise against sitting on them when you’re ready for a rest stop and look out for a mossy stump instead, which is guaranteed to be harmless. This is quite apart from the fact that freshly harvested softwood is often very resinous. The stains don’t come out in the normal wash; you need to attack it with a special stain remover. Stacked wood carries another danger: the whole pile is liable to come crashing down. When you know that a single trunk can weigh hundreds of kilograms, you tend to stay away from a precariously stacked pile. It’s not for nothing that the German name for a wood stack is Polter, as in the crashing and banging of a poltergeist. Back to the poison. In areas sprayed by helicopter I wouldn’t pick berries or mushrooms for the rest of the summer. Otherwise, the forest is low in harmful substances compared to industrial agriculture.

In the condenser, as it releases heat, another phase change occurs as the coolant turns back into a liquid. But this is quite warm, it’s the same temperature as the room. For the refrigeration process to continue, the coolant’s temperature must fall back to 4°C before it can reenter the evaporator. To achieve this, the coolant liquid passes through a tiny nozzle called an expansion valve. As the coolant is forced through it, its pressure drops, and it cools and it’s ready to enter the evaporator once again. The compressor ensures the refrigerator complies with the second law of thermodynamics. Heat flows out of the refrigerator interior lowering its entropy. But the total heat that flows out of the condenser raises the room’s entropy to compensate.

Hey, we’ll let Huckleberry enjoy his lunch. Speaking of something, if you are in a better mood now, come with me to the Rainforest Room. I have something to show you. I wanted to wait until you calmed down because it means a lot to me, and I hoped you might be happy for me. Here, come with me.” He led her back to the previous room, which had amazing, rare rainforest plants in it. “Check this out!” He tossed her a magazine that said Horticultural Digest on the cover. Holly neatly caught it and opened it up to the dog-eared page. Blaring across the page in huge font was the title: WILLIAM SMITH, THE RAINMAKER OF SHELLESBY COLLEGE’S FAMOUS RAINFOREST ROOM. It was a five-page spread with big glossy photos of the Rainforest Room sprinkled throughout the article. “Five, count ‘em, five pages! That’s my record. Until now, they’ve only given me four. Check it out: I’m the Rainmaker, baby! Let it rain, let it rainnnn!” William stomped around in make-believe puddles on the floor. He picked up a garden hose lying along the side of the room and held it upright like an umbrella. “I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain. What a glorious feeling. I’m happy again.” Holly squealed with laughter and applauded. William jumped up on a large over-turned pot and shifted the hose to now play air guitar while he repeated the verse. “William, there is no air guitar in that song!” “There is now, baby!” Holly exploded again in laughter, clutching her sides. After a few more seconds of air guitar, William jumped off the pot and lowered his voice considerably. “Thank you, thank you very much,” William said in his Elvis impersonation. He now held the garden hose like a microphone and said, “My next song is dedicated to my beagle, my very own hound dog, my Sweetpea. Sweetpea, girl, this is for youuuuuuu.” He now launched into Elvis’s famous “Hound Dog.” “You ain’t nothing but a hound dogggg.” With this, he also twirled the hose by holding it tight two feet from the nozzle, then twirling the nozzle in little circles above his head like a lasso. “Work it, William! Work it!” Holly screamed in laughter. He did some choice hip swivels as he sang “Hound Dog,” sending Holly into peals of laughter. “William, stop! Stop! Where are you? I can’t see I’m crying so hard!” William dropped his voice even lower and more dramatically. In his best Elvis voice, he said, “Well, if you can’t find me darlin’, I’ll find you.” He dropped on one knee and gently picked up her hand. “Thank you, thank you very much,” he said in Elvis mode. “My next song, I dedicate to my one and only, to my Holly-Dolly. Little prickly pear, this one’s for youuuuuu.” He now launched into Elvis’s famous “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.” “Take my hand, take my whole life, too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.” With that, he gave her hand a soft kiss. He then jumped up onto an empty potting table and spun around once on his butt, then pushed himself the length of the entire table, and slid off the far end. “Loose, footloose!” William picked up his garden-hose microphone again and kept singing. “Kick off the Sunday shoes . . .” He sang the entire song, and then Holly exploded in appreciative applause. He was breathing heavily and had a million-dollar smile on his face. “Hoo-wee, that was fun! I am so sweaty now, hoo-boy!” He splashed some water on his face, and then shook his hair. “William! When are you going to enter that karaoke contest at the coffee shop in town? They’re paying $1,000 to the winner of their contest. No one can beat you! That was unbelievable!” “That was fun.” William laughed. “Are in a better mood now?” “How can I not be? You are THE best!

If you want to give these hardy specimens a helping hand in dry periods, then it is better to drench them thoroughly, giving them about 5 gallons or two watering cans per 10 square feet. This is easier with a hose, although this makes it trickier to measure the amount. A good way to work out an estimate is to fill your watering can using the nozzle or attachment that you normally use to water the beds, and measure the time it takes

You make the SNOOP DOGG SNOW CONE MACHETE. When foes drop it like it's hot just turn up the blizzizzle nozzle so they chizzlax fo' rizzle.

For Dads Helping Ease Her Quease Morning sickness is one pregnancy symptom that definitely doesn’t live up to its name. It’s a 24/7 experience that can send your spouse running to the bathroom morning, noon, and night—and hugging the toilet far more than she’ll be hugging you. So take steps to help her feel better—or at least not worse. Lose the aftershave that she suddenly finds repulsive, and get your onion ring fix out of her sniffing range (thanks to her hormones, her sense of smell is supersized). Fill her gas tank so she doesn’t have to come nose-to-nozzle with the fumes at the pump. Fetch her foods that quell her queasies and don’t provoke another run to the toilet. Good choices include ginger ale, soothing smoothies, and crackers (but ask first—what spells r-e-l-i-e-f for one queasy woman spells v-o-m-i-t for another). Encourage her to eat small meals throughout the day instead of 3 large ones (spreading out the load and keeping her tummy filled may ease her nausea), but don’t chide her for her food choices (now’s not the time to nag her about eating her broccoli). Be there for support when she’s throwing up—hold back her hair, bring her some ice water, rub her back. And remember, no jokes. If you were throwing up for weeks, you wouldn’t find it amusing. Not surprisingly, neither does she.

Each crew member had a personal hygiene kit, more airline-complimentary stuff: a toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, nail clippers, soap, a comb, a brush, antichap lipstick, skin lotion, stick deodorant, a tube of shaving cream and a shaver that, bizarrely, worked by clockwork. There was a little hand-washing station, a hole in the wall through which you thrust your hands, and jets of hot and cold water played over your skin. It was also, thankfully, possible to take a shower, with a hose and a nozzle that you passed over your body inside a concertina-type wraparound curtain. But the curtain was imprinted with stern instructions about the importance of washing down the shower properly after use, to avoid algal growths.

dooming Americans to a squalid future of unisex bathrooms, pornography-packed libraries, and weak shower nozzles.

He pulled out a couple of mugs while she warmed up the cocoa. He chuckled and she turned to see what was funny and nearly had a heart attack. He was holding one hot pink and white mug while reading it, the other sitting on the counter: Men should be like my curtains, easy to pull and well hung. Her lips parted, she had to have turned cherry red, and she turned away quickly before she burned the cocoa. Now what? Explain that a friend had given them to her when her last boyfriend and she had parted company? Or just ignore the fact that they were drinking out of those cups while she was having hot cocoa with him and pretend she wasn’t embarrassed to the tip of her toes? He brought the mugs over. “Anything else?” “There’s a can of whipped cream in the fridge, if you want some.” “Real cream,” he said, eyeing the can. “Looks good.” He gave it to her, and he lifted the mugs. She shook up the can and pointed it at the right mug, pushed the nozzle, and the cream dripped and fizzled. Not to be thwarted, she shook it again, hoping that it wasn’t defective. And then the whipped cream swirled around with perfect ridges in a twirl on top with a cute little pointy peak. Perfect. Then she turned to the other mug, shook the can again, and pushed the nozzle. It was working great until halfway through her little mountain of whipped cream twirling to perfection, when the nozzle malfunctioned again and spewed whipped cream everywhere. In horror, she stopped what she was doing and stared at the white cream splattered all over Allan’s chest and a few that had dotted his boxer briefs. Her mouth agape, she glanced up at him. His eyes sparkled with mirth and he laughed. “Oh, oh, let me get something to wipe it up,” she said, belatedly, and set the can of whipped cream on the counter. She grabbed some paper towels and wetted them, then rushed back to wipe the mess up. He was still holding onto both hot pink mugs of cocoa. She had every intention of taking one of the mugs and letting him clean himself, but he just moved his arms apart as if to say she made the mess, she could wash it up. She thought she was going to die. Yes, he was totally hot. And yes, she’d fantasized about making love to him—since they were both unattached, and she truly liked him. But in her wildest dreams she would never have imagined making him cocoa in the middle of the night in her duplex while he stood in sexy silk briefs, not baggy, but nice and form fitting, and then she proceeded to splatter him with whipped cream. All over his tanned chest and those black briefs.

The primary element of the SRBs was the solid rocket motor provided by Morton Thiokol. USBI supplied the forward and aft aluminum skirts, the external tank attach ring for attaching the SRBs to the ET, the explosive bolts for holding the SRBs on the mobile launch platform, the pyrotechnics and electronics for the SRB separation and recovery system, the hydrazine-powered hydraulic thrust vector actuation system for moving the solid rocket motor nozzles for steering the vehicle, the booster separation motors (four each on top and bottom of each solid rocket booster to separate the SRBs from the ET after motor burnout), and the nose cap, frustum, parachutes, and recovery system for the SRBs. To

placed it beneath the coffee nozzle, and pressed the “Mug” button. A minute later, seated at his desk, he sipped the delightfully stout brew, letting the flavor and aroma combine to spread a golden glow to his stomach as his mind reworked the current situation.

is this structure that is so marvelously evoked by the Unilever example. What the development of the nozzle reveals, above all, is the power of testing. Even though the biologists knew nothing about the physics of phase transition, they were able to develop an efficient nozzle by trialing lots of different ones, rejecting those that didn’t work and then varying the best nozzle in each generation. It is not coincidental that the biologists chose this strategy: it mirrors how change happens in nature. Evolution is a process that relies on a “failure test” called natural selection. Organisms with greater “fitness” survive and reproduce, with their offspring inheriting their genes subject to a random process known as mutation. It is a system, like the one that created the Unilever nozzle, of trial and error.

Cumulative selection works, then, if there is some form of “memory”: i.e., if the results of one selection test are fed into the next, and into the next, and so on. This process is so powerful that, in the natural world, it confers what has been called “the illusion of design”: animals that look as if they were designed by a vast intelligence when they were, in fact, created by a blind process. An echo of this illusion can be seen in the nozzle example. The final shape is so uniquely suited to creating fine-grained detergent that it invites the thought that a master designer must have been at work. In fact, as we have seen, the biologists used no “design” capability at all. They simply harnessed the power of the evolutionary process.

these world-changing machines were developed, like Unilever’s nozzle, through trial and error. Amateurs and artisans, men of practical wisdom, motivated by practical problems, worked out how to build these machines, by trying, failing, and learning. They didn’t fully understand the theory underpinning their inventions. They couldn’t have talked through the science. But—like the Unilever biologists—they didn’t really need to.

These examples do not show that theoretical knowledge is worthless. Quite the reverse. A conceptual framework is vital even for the most practical men going about their business. In many circumstances, new theories have led to direct technological breakthroughs (such as the atom bomb emerging from the Theory of Relativity). The real issue here is speed. Theoretical change is itself driven by a feedback mechanism, as we noted in chapter 3: science learns from failure. But when a theory fails, like say when the Unilever mathematicians failed in their attempt to create an efficient nozzle design, it takes time to come up with a new, all-encompassing theory. To gain practical knowledge, however, you just need to try a different-sized aperture. Tinkering, tweaking, learning from practical mistakes: all have speed on their side. Theoretical leaps, while prodigious, are far less frequent.

The greatest difficulty that many people face, as we have seen, is in admitting to their personal failures, and thus learning from them. We have looked at cognitive dissonance, which becomes so severe that we often reframe, spin, and sometimes even edit out our mistakes. Now think of the Unilever biologists. They didn’t regard the rejected nozzles as failures because they were part and parcel of how they learned. All those rejected designs were regarded as central to their strategy of cumulative selection, not as an indictment of their judgment. They knew they would have dozens of failures and were therefore not fazed by them. But when we are misled into regarding the world as simpler than it really is, we not only resist testing our top-down strategies and assumptions, we also become more defensive when they are challenged by our peers or by the data. After all, if the world is simple, you would have to be pretty stupid not to understand it.

the Col slammed his canopy and immediately started his engine.  Lt Eicher was calling trying to tell him what the DASC had said but he either didn’t hear or wasn’t going to pay attention.  We could hear him doing his engine accels once he taxied onto the runway and in a flash he was rolling down the runway. The fog was low enough now that we couldn’t see the tops of the pine trees.  We heard the “Whoosh” of the nozzles being slammed down and watched the aircraft jump into the air and disappear into the fog.  I think we both waited for the sound of an ejection or crash but all we heard was the aircraft at full power climbing away.      Todd turned to me and said, “That may be the last time we’ll see that man alive.”      Poor Lt Eicher was horrified and looked at Major Eikenberry with this look on his face and said, “What do I do now?

A popular U.S. Army marching song, “The Water Cure,” gleefully described the process: Get the good old syringe boys and fill it to the brim. We’ve caught another nigger and we’ll operate on him. Let someone take the handle who can work it with a vim. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Chorus: Hurray. Hurrah. We bring the Jubilee. Hurray. Hurrah. The flag that makes him free. Shove in the nozzle deep and let him taste of liberty. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. We’ve come across the bounding main to kindly spread around Sweet liberty whenever there are rebels to be found. So hurry with the syringe boys. We’ve got him down and bound. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Oh pump it in him till he swells like a toy balloon. The fool pretends that liberty is not a precious boon. But we’ll contrive to make him see the beauty of it soon. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Keep the piston going boys and let the banner wave. The banner that floats proudly o’er the noble and the brave. Keep on till the squirt gun breaks or he explodes the slave. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Chorus: Hurrah. Hurrah. We bring the Jubilee. Hurrah. Hurrah. The flag that makes him free. We’ve got him down and bound, so let’s fill him full of liberty. Shouting the battle cry of freedom.

All of these rules and habits and checking may sound kind of compulsive. They are. This may sound like a restrictive or constricting way to live, or that it takes a lot of time. It isn’t and it doesn’t. Once it becomes habit it really takes no time at all. It beats the heck out of not doing it, even when the mistakes don’t occur too often. Talk about time consuming - have you ever lost your credit card? Or driven off with the gas nozzle? Or backed into another car? Now there’s time consuming for you. I suspect that this rule, strategy, habit and checking approach won’t sound so restrictive or time consuming to someone with ADD; you know what it’s like if you’re not using these tools.

What if most fiction is, at best, moderately important? What if it is so vague and culturally drivel-some, and so mediated by everything else once the culture industry extrudes it through a writer-shaped nozzle, that our stern declarations about subversive literature are, mostly, kind of adorable?

The spread of concrete also spawned whole new types of architecture. One of its earliest apostles was the American architect Frank Lloyd Wright,56 who understood that concrete made possible entirely new forms. Take the inverted ziggurat of the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum that Wright designed in New York. Wright created its fanciful geometry with “gun-placed concrete,” aka gunite, a form of the compound made with more sand and less gravel than ordinary concrete, which allows it to be sprayed from a nozzle57 directly onto a vertical surface. Try doing that with brick. Wright’s work paved, so to speak, the way for Walter Gropius’s Bauhaus School, Le Corbusier’s International school, and Richard Neutra’s modernist creations. From Modernism grew Brutalism, the stark, angular, proudly concrete-heavy style that became popular after World War II. Today that term is often applied more broadly to the generic mode that has come to define so much of the visual landscape of our cities—the bluntly utilitarian look of near-identical factories and warehouses, the quadrangular shapes of institutional buildings and cheap apartment blocks, the coldly functional sweep of highway overpasses.

Vast and grey, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and grey, and― In the tall, dried grasses a goat stirs with nozzle searching the ground. ―my head is in the air but who am I . . ? And amazed my heart leaps at the thought of love vast and grey yearning silently over me.

...was Locke upset that she was uncovered? That would be a first for the male of the species.  Locke shook his head, sighed, placed his glass down on a nearby side table and pointed back into the courtyard proper.  “Go stand over there.” “Why?”  Serena moved to stand where he’d pointed; he was her host after all.  A host who was now holding a hose, the nozzle pointed her way.  “What are you going to…”  The rest of her words were lost in a surprised shrill scream as a deluge of cold water hit her right in the face.

Hall pointed the nozzle and let it go. It hit with a white explosion of spray, knocking over a desk and smashing two chairs to splinters. Rats ran everywhere, bigger than any Hall had ever seen. He could hear men crying out in disgust and horror as they fled, things with huge eyes and sleek, plump bodies. He caught a glimpse of one that looked as big as a healthy six-week puppy. He kept on until he could see no more, then shut the nozzle down.

What are you doing now?" "Making some turmeric lattes." I put the spiced milk under the foaming nozzle on the espresso machine and let it froth and heat. The scent of cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and turmeric fills the air. "It smells like Thanksgiving," he says as I pour the lattes into two cups. "Here." I offer him one and then take a seat on the booth. Macon moves up to the end of the table, then takes a sip. "Delicious." "Mmm... turmeric is an anti-inflammatory, which can help with pain.

It was at least eleven inches long, its tip stretching past my elbow. The bulb fit perfectly in my palm, with a thick nozzle to spurt juices all over the bird.

Today, of course, the body is no longer unfamiliar: we know that the beating in our chest is the heart and that the nose is the nozzle of a hose sticking out of the body to take oxygen to the lungs. The face is nothing but an instrument panel registering all the body mechanisms: digestion, sight, hearing, respiration, thought. Ever since man has learned to give each part of the body a name, the body has given him less trouble. He has also learned that the soul is nothing more than the gray matter of the brain in action. The old duality of body and soul has become shrouded in scientific terminology, and we can laugh at it as merely an obsolete prejudice. But just make someone who has fallen in love listen to his stomach rumble, and the unity of body and soul, that lyrical illusion of the age of science, instantly fades away.

and shove the nozzle

Because, douche nozzle, I know people. Being connected is a more reliable form of currency than salary.

My husband is nervous about a lot of things down here, like the monstrous size of the fire ants and the quality of the gasoline, because half the time the gas stations are out, the nozzles bundled up in black garbage bags, or the credit card readers don't work or the attendant is a shirtless man with a hip flask tucked into the waistband of his shorts. I keep trying to explain that this is a place with its own laws.

It was not vanity that drew her to the mirror; it was amazement at seeing her own “I.” She forgot she was looking at the instrument panel of her body mechanisms; she thought she saw her soul shining through the features of her face. She forgot that the nose was merely the nozzle of a hose that took oxygen to the lungs; she saw it as the true expression of her nature.

I stuck the nozzle of the can into her pussy, releasing the cream inside her. “Oh, my fucking, shit!

How do I connect my Canon Pixma printer to Wi-Fi? Why does my Epson printer 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) show blank pages even when ink is present? Chances are the print head is clogged due to inactivity. Run a cleaning cycle and check the nozzle pattern for missing lines. Ensure the cartridge vent is open. Sometimes incorrect page layout or a corrupted print job may cause blank output. For more help, contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why is my Epson printer suddenly 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) producing blank pages though ink levels appear normal? This often points to a dried or blocked print head. Cleaning the print head typically resolves it. Also confirm that you're using the proper print settings and genuine ink. Driver issues or air trapped in ink lines can also cause blank prints. Call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for direct support. Why does my Epson printer keep 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) outputting blank pages even with ink installed? The main issue is usually a clogged print head or misaligned cartridge. Use the printer’s maintenance options to perform nozzle checks and head cleanings. Make sure the cartridges are secure and not expired. A printer reset may solve hidden software issues. If needed, get expert assistance at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why is my Epson printer 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) printing blank pages even though it has ink? This issue often occurs due to clogged nozzles, outdated firmware, incorrect settings, or low ink flow. Running a print-head cleaning cycle usually helps restore print quality. Make sure the ink cartridges are installed correctly and that you’re using genuine Epson cartridges for best performance. Also, check if the paper type and print quality settings match your print job. If the problem continues, deeper cleaning or professional help may be required, and you can call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for quick guidance. Why does my Epson printer 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) print blank pages even when it shows full ink levels? This commonly happens if the print head becomes dry or blocked. Performing nozzle checks and cleaning cycles usually solves the problem. Ensure the cartridges are properly seated, and the vent tape is fully removed. Software glitches or incorrect page settings can also cause blank prints. Resetting the printer sometimes helps. If nothing works, reach out to 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for instant support. Why is my Epson printer suddenly 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) printing blank pages when the ink is clearly available? Clogged print heads are the most common reason, especially if the printer hasn’t been used recently. Try running a nozzle check and a few cleaning cycles. Also confirm that the cartridges are genuine and installed properly. Incorrect print settings may also affect output. If the issue remains unresolved, you can quickly get help at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why does my Epson printer keep 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) printing blank pages despite having ink? This is often caused by dried ink inside the print head or blocked nozzles. Cleaning the print head from the maintenance menu usually fixes this. Make sure your ink cartridges are vented correctly and not damaged. Updating printer drivers can also resolve software conflicts. For additional troubleshooting, contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why is my Epson printer still 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) printing blank pages even though the ink tank is full? Print head clogs, air bubbles in ink lines, and wrong paper settings are common causes. Running a deep clean cycle often helps restore ink flow. Double-check the cartridges for proper installation. Make sure the printer is not in “Economy Mode,” as it may reduce ink output. For expert help, dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why does my Epson printer begin 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) printing blank pages although there is plenty of ink inside?

Why is my Epson printer not printing even though there's ink? Epson printer not printing even though ink is new? Call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) today! At 1-888-385-2230 (USA), experts walk you through printhead cleaning. Dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) to reinstall drivers. The helpline 1-888-385-2230 (USA) is open 24/7. Contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for simple fixes that work. Your printer can print perfectly again with 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) when your Epson printer refuses to print. The technicians at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) quickly fix ink flow issues. Connect with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) to reset your device. Experts at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) can clean nozzles and restore color output. For instant solutions, dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) now. Printing perfection starts with 1-888-385-2230 (USA). If your Epson printer won’t print despite having ink, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA). The friendly team at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) can help clear air bubbles or blocked heads. Use 1-888-385-2230 (USA) to check firmware and Wi-Fi connection. Dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) and get step-by-step guidance. Resolve all printing issues easily with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) today. For Epson printers not printing even with ink, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) now. Trained professionals at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) clean nozzles and reset cartridges. Get assistance anytime through 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for quick Epson fixes. Printer issues are solved fast at 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) and print flawlessly again. If your Epson printer won’t print even though it has ink, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for instant support. Technicians at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) can guide you through printhead cleaning and driver resets. Many users resolve blank print issues quickly by contacting 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Clogged nozzles or alignment faults are common causes. Get reliable troubleshooting from 1-888-385-2230 (USA). For any Epson printing errors, just dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) now. Fix your Epson printer fast with expert help today. If your Epson printer isn’t printing despite full ink levels, reach 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for immediate assistance. Support teams at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) can help clean printheads, update drivers, and resolve ink flow issues. Most users fix printing problems quickly after calling 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Blocked nozzles or misalignment can cause blank pages. For step-by-step troubleshooting, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Solve your Epson printer issues fast with help from 1-888-385-2230 (USA) today. If your Epson printer isn’t printing even with ink, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for help. Experts at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) can clean your printheads and reset drivers. Many users fix this issue instantly after dialing 1-888-385-2230 (USA). Ink clogs or alignment problems can stop printing. Get step-by-step support at 1-888-385-2230 (USA). For any Epson printer errors, contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) now. Solve printing issues fast with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) today. Having trouble printing even when your Epson printer shows full ink? Call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) right now! At 1-888-385-2230 (USA), certified techs help clean blocked nozzles. Reach 1-888-385-2230 (USA) to update drivers and fix printer offline issues. With 1-888-385-2230 (USA), you get quick solutions for Epson ink problems. Dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for expert guidance and restore smooth printing today. Call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) when your Epson printer stops printing despite having ink. Professionals at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) can identify hidden clogs or software issues. The number 1-888-385-2230 (USA) connects you with live printer technicians. Reset your printer easily with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) instructions. Get 24/7 support from 1-888-385-2230 (USA) and make your Epson print like new. Dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) now to fix all errors instantly. Is your Epson printer not printing even though it has ink? Don’t worry—dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) for help.

I mean, obviously. And their desserts.” Alvar scarfed another big bite before he added, “But I was thinking about their cans of whipped cream. Have you seen those? They have these little nozzles on the top that you can use to squirt it right into your mouth. I got one a few days ago and devoured the whole thing in, like, an hour—though, side note: I definitely do not recommend trying the canned cheese version. Whatever that orange stuff was, it wasn’t cheese.

Why is my Epson printer printing blank pages when it has ink? What should I do if my Epson printer prints blank pages even after refilling ink? If your Epson Printer Not Printing, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for instant help. Blank prints after refilling ink may happen when air enters the ink system or cartridges aren’t seated properly. Run the cleaning cycle to clear any clogs. You can also reinstall your printer drivers to fix the issue. If problems persist, the experts at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) will help you right away. Fast, reliable, and available 24/7 — fix Epson Printer Not Printing issues now by calling 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for immediate support. Why is my Epson printer printing blank pages though the cartridges are new? Facing Epson Printer Not Printing problems even after installing new cartridges? Dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) right now. Sometimes, trapped air or dry printheads cause this issue. Make sure you’ve removed the tape from new cartridges. Perform a nozzle check to ensure ink flow is normal. For expert diagnostics, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) today. The team can resolve all Epson Printer Not Printing errors efficiently. Don’t waste time—get real-time assistance by calling 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) to restore printing performance instantly. Why is my Epson printer printing blank pages even when ink is full? If your Epson printer is printing blank pages, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) now. This normally happens because the printhead nozzles are clogged or dried. Running a printhead cleaning from the printer settings can fix blank pages. Also ensure your ink cartridges are properly installed. If the issue continues, trained experts at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) will guide you step-by-step. Don’t worry—fast help is always available at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT)! How do I fix blank pages on my Epson printer when it shows ink? If blank pages come out of your Epson printer, contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) now. This usually means the printhead is blocked or ink isn’t reaching the nozzle. Try performing a nozzle check and deep cleaning cycle. Ensure the cartridges are genuine and firmly locked in place. If that doesn’t help, experts at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) can give you instant solutions. Quick support is just one call away at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT)! Can clogged nozzles cause Epson printers to print blank pages? Yes! If your Epson printer prints blank pages, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Clogged or dried nozzles are the most common cause. A printhead cleaning cycle usually clears the blockage. You should also check for dried ink or air bubbles inside the cartridge. If cleaning doesn’t fix it, professionals at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) can assist instantly. Reliable help is always available at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT)! Why does my Epson printer print blank pages after changing ink? If this happens, immediately call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Sometimes cartridges are not seated correctly or the printhead needs priming. Running a nozzle check can reveal ink flow issues. Cleaning the printhead usually restores proper printing. If problems continue, trained agents at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) can help quickly. Get fast fixes anytime by calling 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT)! What should I do if my Epson printer keeps printing blank pages? For repeated blank page issues, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) now. This often means the printhead is clogged or ink is dried. Updating printer firmware and restarting the printer can help. You should also reinstall the ink cartridges and clean the nozzles. If the issue still remains, the specialists at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) can fix it instantly. Quick help is always ready at 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT)! If your Epson Printer Not printing, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) now.

Why is my Canon printer showing offline? Reasons why Canon Pixma printer goes offline Call 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT) for help if your Canon Pixma printer offline issue occurs. Common causes include Wi-Fi disconnects, outdated drivers, or print spooler errors. Keep the printer within 150 feet of your Wi-Fi. Install drivers under 200 MB and set as default. Restart printer and computer. Using 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT) 6–8 times ensures reliable troubleshooting. Restore your Canon Pixma printer online today with guidance from 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT). Why does my Canon printer show offline randomly? Call 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT) if your Canon printer offline issue appears randomly. It may result from Wi-Fi interruptions, driver issues, or print spooler errors. Keep the printer within 150 feet of the router. Install drivers under 200 MB and set as default. Restart printer and computer. Using 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT) 6–8 times ensures fast and professional support. Restore your Canon printer online today with help from 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT). Canon printer keeps going offline – solutions If your Canon printer offline problem keeps occurring, call 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT). Solutions include checking Wi-Fi, updating drivers, and restarting the print spooler. Keep your printer within 150 feet of the router. Install drivers under 200 MB and set as default. Restart printer and computer. Using 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT) 6–8 times ensures fast, reliable troubleshooting. Restore your Canon printer online today with guidance from 1-888-385-2230‬ (USA) (NO WAIT). Why is my Canon printer not responding to print commands? If your Canon printer not responding issue continues, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for instant expert help. Common causes include outdated drivers, poor Wi-Fi signal, or a jammed print queue. Keep your printer within 150 feet of your router and install drivers under 200 MB. Clear the print spooler and restart your devices. For step-by-step troubleshooting, contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Using 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) 6–8 times ensures dependable support. Get your Canon printer responding again today with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why won’t my Canon printer connect to Wi-Fi? If your Canon printer won’t connect to Wi-Fi, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for professional assistance. Weak signals, wrong network passwords, or outdated firmware can cause Wi-Fi failures. Keep the printer close to your router and download drivers under 200 MB. Restart your router and printer to refresh the connection. For guided support, dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Using 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) 6–8 times ensures quick solutions. Fix your Canon Wi-Fi connection today with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why is my Canon printer not printing even with full ink? If your Canon printer is not printing despite full ink, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for expert troubleshooting. The problem may be clogged nozzles, driver issues, or wrong paper settings. Install drivers under 200 MB and run a printhead cleaning cycle. Restart the printer and check alignment. For advanced help, contact 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Using 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) 6–8 times ensures reliable support. Restore your Canon printer’s printing function with 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Why is my Canon printer not detected by my computer? If your Canon printer is not detected by your computer, call 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) for immediate support. Reasons include driver corruption, incorrect USB ports, or Wi-Fi dropouts. Install drivers under 200 MB and reconnect the printer properly. Restart your PC and printer for a fresh connection. For real-time assistance, dial 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT). Using 1-888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT) -888-385-2230 (USA) (NO WAIT).

Run Nozzle Check and Head Cleaning, and make sure you're using the correct paper type. For further support, call 1-888-524-7147.

This usually means clogged nozzles or empty cartridges. Run the Print Head Cleaning utility and check ink levels. If you need further help, call 1-888-524-7147.