I have had only two men in four years while he appears every week on the newspapers with another woman.
quote by Michelle Hunziker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The reason we have not gone to newspapers is because its a slow growth industry and I think they are dying. I'm not sure there will be newspapers in 10 years. I read newspapers every day. I even read Murdoch's Wall Street Journal.
quote by Sumner Redstone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was fortunate that I was at newspapers for eight years, where I wrote at least five or six stories every week. You get used to interviewing lots of different people about a lot of different things. And they aren't things you know about until you do the story.
quote by Chuck Klosterman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Man Enters Woman
When man,
enters woman,
like the surf biting the shore,
again and again,
and the woman opens her mouth with pleasure
and her teeth gleam
like the alphabet,
Logos appears milking a star,
and the man
inside of woman
ties a knot
so that they will
never again be separate
and the woman
climbs into a flower
and swallows its stem
and Logos appears
and unleashes their rivers.
This man,
this woman
with their double hunger,
have tried to reach through
the curtain of God
and briefly they have,
though God
in His perversity
unties the knot.
poem by Anne Sexton
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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What appears in newspapers is often new but seldom true.
quote by Patrick Kavanagh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman Of A Thousand Years
Written by danny kirwan.
Woman of a thousand years
How are your sons of a time ago
Do they still admire your silvered ways
As you go down
To the sea and golden sand
You may be seen up in the sky
And from the land
Or floating by, a fishermans day
Flying down from a high
She is gone, and then appears
From the waters edge
Woman of a thousand years
He waits to see you...
You may be seen up in the sky
And from the land
Or floating by, a fishermans day
Flying down from a high
She is gone, and then appears
From the waters edge
He waits to see you
For it has been long since you left him
On his own to wander
Woman of a thousand years
How are your sons of a time ago
Do they still admire your silvered ways
As you go down
To the sea and golden sand
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I went to work. That was a turning point. When you have to do eight shows a week and your name is on the marquee, no matter what is going on at home or what's on the cover of the newspapers, you've got to do your job.
quote by Marla Maples
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Isn't...Is!
An isn't...
Is!
When that isn't...
Appears.
An isn't...
Is!
When that isn't...
Appears.
Cheating spouses,
Who run about...
To play a cat and mouse,
Out of the house.
Often lie,
When they can...
To hide unfaithfulness from eyes that scan.
But that isn't...
Is!
When that isn't appears.
Oh yes that isn't,
Is...
When that isn't appears!
Those downlow and attempting discreet...
Play it cheap,
While sneaking under sheets.
Be they lesbians or homos too,
Cruising darkened streets to do what they do...
To hide an isn't...
That is!
When they say what isn't,
Appears.
Oh yes that isn't,
Is...
When that isn't appears!
You can say that isn't,
Is!
When that isn't,
Appears!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Week
Oh, the new-chum went to the backblock run,
But he should have gone there last week.
He tramped ten miles with a loaded gun,
But of turkey of duck saw never a one,
For he should have been there last week,
They said,
There were flocks of 'em there last week.
He wended his way to a waterfall,
And he should have gone there last week.
He carried a camera, legs and all,
But the day was hot and the stream was small,
For he should have gone there last week,
They said,
They drowned a man there last week.
He went for a drive, and he made a start,
Which should have been made last week,
For the old horse died of a broken heart;
So he footed it home and he dragged the cart --
But the horse was all right last week,
They said,
He trotted a match last week.
So he asked all the bushies who came from afar
To visit the town last week
If the'd dine with him, and they said "Hurrah!"
But there wasn't a drop in the whisky jar --
You should have been here last week,
He said,
I drank it all up last week!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Week-ends
I don't know what's come to the summer
In these dull and decadent years;
But a fellow grows glummer and glummer
As promise of autumn appears;
For there's not been a sign of a week-end of shine,
Or the sun on the sea all aglimmer.
And, as the weeks pass, wet and windy, alas,
Thin hope grows yet slimmer and slimmer.
Oh, the sad days, the mad days,
Of rain and wind and mud!
The week speeds by with the sun on high
To come a sickening thud.
When the slippery slosh of the gum golosh
On the soaked and sodden ground
Thro' the country lane sounds once again
When the week-end comes around.
When I go to the bush for a week-end
From a city aglow in the sun,
My holiday comes to a bleak end
Ere half a day's length has been run.
And I gaze thro' the pane at the splattering rain,
Forlorn thro' a profitless Sunday,
And come back to town with the sun pouring down
To smile on my labours on Monday.
Oh, the weekends, when pique ends
In grim and gaunt despair!
Hope wakes anew as all week thro'
The glass is pointing fair,
And fine and warm: but a lurking storm
Behind the high hills grows
To spread dismay each Saturday
And another week-end goes.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Common-sense appears to be only another name for the thoughtlessness of the unthinking. It is made of the prejudices of childhood, the idiosyncrasies of individual character and the opinion of the newspapers.
W. Somerset Maugham in The Moon and Sixpence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At last, in a world torn by the hatred and wars of men, appears a woman to whom the problems and feats of men are mere child's play. A woman whose identity is known to none, but whose sensational feats are outstanding in a fast-moving world. With a hundred times the agility and strength of our best male athletes and strongest wrestlers, she appears as though from nowhere to avenge an injustice or right a wrong! As lovely as Aphrodite — as wise as Athena — with the speed of Mercury and the strength of Hercules — She is known only as Wonder Woman, but who she is, or whence she came from, nobody knows!
quote by William Moulton Marston
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Some newspapers have a hands-off policy on favored politicians. But it's generally very small newspapers or local TV stations.
quote by Bob Woodward
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Week In Week Out
IIs there something more?
Surely there must be
You can't lose everything
So you're quite happy
To live with nothing more
Than a life-long shopping list
You tick off on credit
Well you'll pay for it
Week in and week out
Your lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
Where are you going to turn?
When all ambition fails?
Why try any more
If human nature's stale?
Invite the hand of God
To touch the lucky few
There's no such thing as God
Nor easy money too?
Week in and week out
These lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
Week in and week out
Your lucky charms will always let you down
Maybe next week, we'll see
Maybe
You stand in life completely still
Feel really truly unfulfilled
Week in week out
song performed by by Ordinary Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Power Of Woman
Mighty art thou, because of the peaceful charms of thy presence;
That which the silent does not, never the boastful can do.
Vigor in man I expect, the law in its honors maintaining,
But, through the graces alone, woman e'er rules or should rule.
Many, indeed, have ruled through the might of the spirit and action,
But then thou noblest of crowns, they were deficient in thee.
No real queen exists but the womanly beauty of woman;
Where it appears, it must rule; ruling because it appears!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wonderland
Would you come and look around
See the motion and circle round
Feel it whirl through the fields
All the years we wandered about
And let our youth strip us out
Now lock up the door to indignation
As all appears to recover
(would you come-look around-see the motion-circle round)
All appears to recover
(all the years we wandered about-let our youth-strip us out-come with me)
Here we are in wonder left with all left to discover
Will you stay watch by me
As all appears to recover
(would you come-look around-see the motion-circle round)
All appears to recover
(all the years we wandered about-let our youth-strip us out-come with me-break out)
As all appears to recover
(would you come-look around-see the motion-circle round)
All appears to recover
(all the years we wandered about-let our youth-strip us out-come with me-break out)
All appears to discover
(see the motion-circle round-come with me-break out
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderland
Would you come and look around
See the motion and circle round
Feel it whirl through the fields
All the years we wandered about
And let our youth strip us out
Now lock up the door to indignation
As all appears to recover
(would you come-look around-see the motion-circle round)
All appears to recover
(all the years we wandered about-let our youth-strip us out-come with me)
Here we are in wonder left with all left to discover
Will you stay watch by me
As all appears to recover
(would you come-look around-see the motion-circle round)
All appears to recover
(all the years we wandered about-let our youth-strip us out-come with me-break out)
As all appears to recover
(would you come-look around-see the motion-circle round)
All appears to recover
(all the years we wandered about-let our youth-strip us out-come with me-break out)
All appears to discover
(see the motion-circle round-come with me-break out
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Week From Today
A week from today it will be the sixth anniversary of the day the towers crumbled.
A week from today the vivid pictures will flash across the television screen remind us of that day.
A week from today mothers, fathers, sons, daughter, friends and even strangers will gather at ground zero and weep as they remember the death the saw that day.
A week from today the President will get on television as we are grieving and remind us this is the reason we’re in Iraq.
And a week from today just like today I will look at my television and yell to the president that is bullshit. You SOB you used our anger and hunger for vengeance of that day to make us believe war is the only way to fight terrorist.
My heart goes out to all those who died from this war and those who died on what will be six years ago A week from today.
God In His Perversity
How God, in his perversity,
ties knots sometimes, unties when time
seems right to him, we learn from rhyme,
but in a university,
where everything is deconstructed,
we learn it isn’t God who ties
and unties knots, and lose the lies
concerning him with which we’d been instructed.
Inspired by a poem by Anne Sexton:
When Man Enters Woman
When man
enters woman
like the surf biting the shore
again and again
and the woman opens her mouth in pleasure
and her teeth gleam.
Like the alphabet,
Logos appears milking a star
and the man
inside of woman
ties a knot
so that they never will
again be separate,
and the woman
climbs into a flower
and swallows its stem
and Logos appears
and unleashed their rivers
This man
this woman
with their double hunger
have tried to reach though
the curtains of God
and briefly they have,
though God,
in His perversity
unties the knot.
http: //www.geocities.com/SoHo/cafe/1324/sexton.htm
11/6/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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