Yes, I spent two and a half hours, tried four different subway routes and trudged 30 minutes until my face looked like a shiny wet tomato, all to just end up going back home (after unintentional forays into the East Village and Downtown Brooklyn). But that’s not important. What I did learn this afternoon, more than once, while the TV played in the background was, “No matter how formidable you are, you're no match for a dangerous clot.” Clots trump tornadoes.
What kind of foul slogan is that? Clot is a tough word on the ears (wound is gross, too). Clotted cream is one of the world’s most thick, delicious dairy byproducts but I wince whenever I hear the name said aloud. It’s not like I eat scones with the full shebang more than once a year, so I’m usually safe. Thanks to Plavix, the airwaves will now be clogged with clots.
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[url=http://www.ordi2-0.com/%e8%b3%bc%e5%85%a5%e8%b6%85%e4%ba%ba%e6%b0%97-%e3%83%9c%e3%83%83%e3%83%86%e3%82%ac-%e9%95%b7%e8%b2%a1%e5%b8%83-%e6%96%b0%e4%bd%9c%e3%83%9c%e3%83%83%e3%83%86%e3%82%ac-%e8%b2%a1%e5%b8%83-%e3%81%8c/]ボッテガ 長財布 新作[/url]
ボッテガ 長財布 新作