The bull roars with pain, and the banderillas toss about in the lacerated flesh, from which the blood pours in crimson streams. Poor beast! what a shame, we think, and even then the order is given for the picador to attack the bull.

She still organizes closets and basements […]; the most recent recipient being her facialist.

Flange-stacked and cone-nosed, a Nashville, Chattanooga & St. Louis J-3 4-8-4 gives the mail clerks a look at the trim Alco as she leads the Dixie Limited out of Smyrna, Ga.

You guys are pathetic. I'm gonna find myself a little hottie.