Settle down, gonads. Oh, sweet jonas, it's cold out here. Pop! Pop! Pop! I hope that's a third nipple. It's time for our annual polar bear plunge, Where brave souls run headlong into the icy surf....
[0:00:00] Hi, this is Jeff Wenberg from LeadPages. We've added a really cool new feature to LeadPages that I wanted to show you in this video. We recently added the option to set any page as...
About a year before he proposed his thirty-two questions for propagandists, Jarrah White offered us thirty-two conspirasists' claims in his masterful work, MoonFaker: Exhibit D. In his twelve...
CHAPTER V The haggling business, which had mainly depended on the horse, became disorganized forthwith. Distress, if not penury, loomed in the distance. Durbeyfield was what was locally called a...
CHAPTER IX The community of fowls to which Tess had been appointed as supervisor, purveyor, nurse, surgeon, and friend made its headquarters in an old thatched cottage standing in an enclosure that...
CHAPTER XI The twain cantered along for some time without speech, Tess as she clung to him still panting in her triumph, yet in other respects dubious. She had perceived that the horse was not the...
CHAPTER XII The basket was heavy and the bundle was large, but she lugged them along like a person who did not find her especial burden in material things. Occasionally she stopped to rest in a...
CHAPTER XVI On a thyme-scented, bird-hatching morning in May, between two and three years after the return from Trantridge--silent, reconstructive years for Tess Durbeyfield-- she left her home for...
CHAPTER XXI There was a great stir in the milk-house just after breakfast. The churn revolved as usual, but the butter would not come. Whenever this happened the dairy was paralyzed. Squish, squash...
CHAPTER XXXI Tess wrote a most touching and urgent letter to her mother the very next day, and by the end of the week a response to her communication arrived in Joan Durbeyfield's wandering...