...One wild night Theres a man in her cake.And a stripper at her door.Its all clean fun,protests the bride-to-be.But the shower just got steamier Mansi Choksi | TNN They function like a kind of secret service clients come in and whisper their orders,and when the house is empty,they get down to business.Dodging the judgmental gaze of domestic help and children,these cake ladies fulfill requests for phallic chocolate lollipops and other erotic confections.Cakes at bachelorette parties are no longer just about chocolate,icing and candles.From a naked man on a beach to threedimensional confections that resemble male genitalia and even squirt out cream,brides-to-be in the big cities want their last fling with singledom. The naughty cake market in Mumbai has grown.Five years ago,one sole cakesmith monopolised the scene.Now there are at least nine more in the bakery.Ruchi Chopra,owner of Any Surprise Any Place,says that most of her cakes sport some kind of exaggerated body part and she also serves up interestingly shaped food.For instance,the innocent spring roll gets a whole new meaning. A Matunga-based cake maker says parts of the cake are assembled after her domestic help has left for the day.Although they want kinky confections,some clients find it hard to spell it out.They just ask for those cakes, she says. But those cakes arent the only attraction at bridal showers that have become more than just underground booze-fuelled fiestas of giggles strippers,dirty games and weird gifts...
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...costumes and accessories. She starts with a short story. This builds anticipation while setting the scene for the activities ahead. Then the birthday child opens the treasure chest to reveal all the wonderful costumes inside. After everyone has put on their favorite outfit, we do individual pictures and you get a free website with hosted parties. Next we do a variety of theme related games and activities. So far, the story, dress-up, games and activities last about 45 minutes. We break for cake and presents or food and cake or some half hour where you handle the children and the hostess straightens things back up and also hides the clues for the final treasure hunt. The last 15 minutes of the party is a treasure hunt. This is a series of poems that lead the children from location to location and the final destination has their party favors. You can provide the party favors or we offer a discount for hosted parties for our favor sets. Since 1999, Princess and Pirate Parties has been focusing on the birthday child being the center of attention with theme related fun for both boys and girls. At a Princess Party the boys would be knights, wizards or dragons. At a Pirate Party girls can choose to be Pixies or Mermaids. Our Super Hero parties have Spiderman, Batman, Batgirl, Power Puff and Power Rangers. Choose from our over 15 themes including:Princess and Prince Parties Pirate and Pixie Parties American Girls Doll Party Army Theme Glamour Girls Party Race Car Driver and...
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...on par with the American "you bastard!" However, does the span of a few millennia dull every convivial sensation or make dreary every delectable euphemism for irrumo? Hopefully, it has not. Roman sexual attitudes have changed greatly since the time of the Caesars, but the facts and records of yesteryear's sexual escapades have not. In fact, sexuality in ancient Rome generally lacked what we would today call 'heterosexual', or 'homosexual'. The colloquialisms of the lower class and silvery loquations of the upper-class possessed innumerable profane terms, some of which have direct lines to modern profanity. There was, of course, the pearly, carnal decadence of the elite, so often portrayed in the media – however, the milk baths and wine showers that come to mind were extravagances and eccentricities, leaving the rest of the people with a very different sexual life. Homosexuality and pedophilia were tenuous topic, despite their common recognition and plentiful literary references. Most important of all, perhaps, was a gaping chasm differing what was a 'normal' relationship in the Classical world and a modern relationship. To say the least, it was an exciting time to be vigorous and lascivious in Rome. To say the least, there is a large gulf between our own taboos and Roman sexual attitudes. The single most startling and definitive point of evidence to differentiate modern Western sexual attitudes...
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...PHILIPPINE THEATER Theater in the Philippines is as varied as the cultural traditions and the historical influences that shaped it through the centuries. The dramatic forms that flourished and continue to flourish among the different peoples of the archipelago include: the indigenous theater, mainly Malay in character, which is seen in rituals, mimetic dances, and mimetic customs; the plays with Spanish influence, among which are the komedya, the sinakulo, the playlets, the sarswela, and the drama; and the theater with Anglo-American influence, which encompasses bodabil and the plays in English, and the modern or original plays by Fihpinos, which employ representational and presentational styles drawn from contemporary modern theater, or revitalize traditional forms from within or outside the country. The Indigenous Theater The rituals, dances, and customs which are still performed with urgency and vitality by the different cultural communities that comprise about five percent of the country’s population are held or performed, together or separately, on the occasions of a person’s birth, baptism, circumcision, initial menstruation, courtship, wedding, sickness, and death; or for the celebration of tribal activities, like hunting, fishing, rice planting and harvesting, and going to war. In most rituals, a native priest/priestess, variously called mandadawak, catalonan, bayok, or babalyan, goes into a trance as the spirit he/she is calling upon possesses him/her. While entranced...
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...Classic Poetry Series Robert Frost - poems - Publication Date: 2004 Publisher: PoemHunter.Com - The World's Poetry Archive "In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? Portent in little, assorted death and blight Like the ingredients of a witches' broth? The beady spider, the flower like a froth, And the moth carried like a paper kite. What had that flower to do with being white, The blue prunella every child's delight. What brought the kindred spider to that height? (Make we no thesis of the miller's plight.) What but design of darkness and of night? Design, design! Do I use the word aright? Anonymous submission. Robert Frost www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive 2 A Boundless Moment He halted in the wind, and -- what was that Far in the maples, pale, but not a ghost? He stood there bringing March against his thought, And yet too ready to believe the most. "Oh, that's the Paradise-in-bloom," I said; And truly it was fair enough for flowers had we but in us to assume in march Such white luxuriance of May for ours. We stood a moment so in a strange world, Myself as one his own pretense deceives; And then I said the truth (and we moved on). A young beech clinging to its last year's leaves. Robert Frost www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive ...
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...Begin Reading Table of Contents Copyright Page For Charlotte—why we got together —D.H. + M.K. In a sec you’ll hear a thunk. At your front door, the one nobody uses. It’ll rattle the hinges a bit when it lands, because it’s so weighty and important, a little jangle along with the thunk, and Joan will look up from whatever she’s cooking. She will look down in her saucepan, worried that if she goes to see what it is it’ll boil over. I can see her frown in the reflection of the bubbly sauce or whatnot. But she’ll go, she’ll go and see. You won’t, Ed. You wouldn’t. You’re upstairs probably, sweaty and alone. You should be taking a shower, but you’re heartbroken on the bed, I hope, so it’s your sister, Joan, who will open the door even though the thunk’s for you. You won’t even know or hear what’s being dumped at your door. You won’t even know why it even happened. It’s a beautiful day, sunny and whatnot. The sort of day when you think everything will be all right, etc. Not the right day for this, not for us, who went out when it rains, from October 5 until November 12. But it’s December now, and the sky is bright, and it’s clear to me. I’m telling you why we broke up, Ed. I’m writing it in this letter, the whole truth of why it happened. And the truth is that I goddamn loved you so much. The thunk is the box, Ed. This is what I am leaving you. I found it down in the basement, just grabbed the box when all of our things were too much for my bed stand drawer. Plus I thought...
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...C h a p t e r 1 Prewriting GETTING STARTED (OR SOUP-CAN LABELS CAN BE FASCINATING) For many writers, getting started is the hardest part. You may have noticed that when it is time to begin a writing assignment, you suddenly develop an enormous desire to straighten your books, water your plants, or sharpen your pencils for the fifth time. If this situation sounds familiar, you may find it reassuring to know that many professionals undergo these same strange compulsions before they begin writing. Jean Kerr, author of Please Don’t Eat the Daisies, admits that she often finds herself in the kitchen reading soup-can labels—or anything—in order to prolong the moments before taking pen in hand. John C. Calhoun, vice president under Andrew Jackson, insisted he had to plow his fields before he could write, and Joseph Conrad, author of Lord Jim and other novels, is said to have cried on occasion from the sheer dread of sitting down to compose his stories. To spare you as much hand-wringing as possible, this chapter presents some practical suggestions on how to begin writing your short essay. Although all writers must find the methods that work best for them, you may find some of the following ideas helpful. But no matter how you actually begin putting words on paper, it is absolutely essential to maintain two basic ideas concerning your writing task. Before you write a single sentence, you should always remind yourself that 1. You have some valuable ideas to tell your reader,...
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...Dubliners Joyce, James Published: 1914 1 About Joyce: James Augustine Aloysius Joyce (Irish Séamus Seoighe; 2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941) was an Irish expatriate writer, widely considered to be one of the most influential writers of the 20th century. He is best known for his landmark novels Ulysses (1922) and Finnegans Wake (1939), the short story collection Dubliners (1914) and the semi-autobiographical novel A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916). Although his adult life was largely spent outside the country, Joyce's fictional universe is firmly rooted in Dublin and provide the settings and much of the subject matter for all his fiction. In particular, his tempestuous early relationship with the Irish Roman Catholic Church is reflected through a similar inner conflict in his recurrent alter ego Stephen Dedalus. As the result of his minute attentiveness to a personal locale and his self-imposed exile and influence throughout Europe, Joyce became simultaneously one of the most cosmopolitan and one of the most local of all the great English language writers. Source: Wikipedia 2 Chapter 1 The Sisters There was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind, for I knew that two candles...
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...CATCHING FIRE The Hunger Games Book 2 Suzanne Collins Table of Contents PART 1 – THE SPARK Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 PART 2 – THE QUELL Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 PART 3 – THE ENEMY Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 PART I “THE SPARK” I clasp the flask between my hands even though the warmth from the tea has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles are clenched tight against the cold. If a pack of wild dogs were to appear at this moment, the odds of scaling a tree before they attacked are not in my favor. I should get up, move around, and work the stiffness from my limbs. But instead I sit, as motionless as the rock beneath me, while the dawn begins to lighten the woods. I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I've been dreading for months. By noon they will all be at my new house in the Victor's Village. The reporters, the camera crews, even Effie Trinket, my old escort, will have made their way to District 12 from the Capitol. I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or if she'll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victory Tour. There will be others waiting, too. A staff to cater to my every need on the long train trip. A prep team to beautify me for public appearances....
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...CATCHING FIRE The Hunger Games Book 2 Suzanne Collins Table of Contents PART 1 – THE SPARK Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 PART 2 – THE QUELL Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 PART 3 – THE ENEMY Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 PART I “THE SPARK” I clasp the flask between my hands even though the warmth from the tea has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles are clenched tight against the cold. If a pack of wild dogs were to appear at this moment, the odds of scaling a tree before they attacked are not in my favor. I should get up, move around, and work the stiffness from my limbs. But instead I sit, as motionless as the rock beneath me, while the dawn begins to lighten the woods. I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I've been dreading for months. By noon they will all be at my new house in the Victor's Village. The reporters, the camera crews, even Effie Trinket, my old escort, will have made their way to District 12 from the Capitol. I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or if she'll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victory Tour. There will be others waiting, too. A staff to cater to my every need on the long train trip. A prep team to beautify me for public appearances...
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...A ∑ E= This eBook is downloaded from www.PlentyofeBooks.net mc 2 PlentyofeBooks.net is a blog with an aim of helping people, especially students, who cannot afford to buy some costly books from the market. For more Free eBooks and educational material visit www.PlentyofeBooks.net Uploaded By $am$exy98 theBooks 1 Begin Reading Table of Contents Newsletters Copyright Page In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights. To the real Deeby with many thanks Why were you born when the snow was falling? You should have come to the cuckoo’s calling, Or when grapes are green in the cluster, Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster For their far off flying From summer dying. Why did you die when the lambs were cropping? You should have died at the apples’ dropping, When the grasshopper comes to trouble, And the wheat-fields are sodden stubble, And all winds go sighing For sweet things dying. Christina G. Rossetti, “A Dirge” Contents Cover Title Page Welcome Dedication Epigraph Prologue Three Months Later Part One 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Part Two 1 2...
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...501 CHALLENGING LOGIC AND REASONING PROBLEMS 501 CHALLENGING LOGIC AND REASONING PROBLEMS 2nd Edition ® NEW YORK Copyright © 2005 LearningExpress, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by LearningExpress, LLC, New York. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data: 501 challenging logic & reasoning problems. p. cm.—(LearningExpress skill builders practice) Includes bibliographical references. ISBN 1-57685-534-1 1. Logic—Problems, exercises, etc. 2. Reasoning—Problems, exercises, etc. 3. Critical thinking—Problems, exercises, etc. I. LearningExpress (Organization) II. Title: 501 challenging logic and reasoning problems. III. Series. BC108.A15 2006 160'.76—dc22 2005057953 Printed in the United States of America 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Second Edition ISBN 1-57685-534-1 For information or to place an order, contact LearningExpress at: 55 Broadway 8th Floor New York, NY 10006 Or visit us at: www.learnatest.com Contents INTRODUCTION QUESTIONS ANSWERS vii 1 99 v Introduction his book—which can be used alone, with other logic and reasoning texts of your choice, or in combination with LearningExpress’s Reasoning Skills Success in 20 Minutes a Day—will give you practice dealing with the types of multiple-choice questions that appear on standardized tests assessing logic, reasoning, judgment, and critical thinking. It is designed to be used by individuals working on their...
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...In Cold Blood Truman Capote I. The Last to See Them Alive The village of Holcomb stands on the high wheat plains of western Kansas, a lonesome area that other Kansans call "out there." Some seventy miles east of the Colorado border, the countryside, with its hard blue skies and desert-clear air, has an atmosphere that is rather more Far West than Middle West. The local accent is barbed with a prairie twang, a ranch-hand nasalness, and the men, many of them, wear narrow frontier trousers, Stetsons, and high-heeled boots with pointed toes. The land is flat, and the views are awesomely extensive; horses, herds of cattle, a white cluster of grain elevators rising as gracefully as Greek temples are visible long before a traveler reaches them. Holcomb, too, can be seen from great distances. Not that there's much to see simply an aimless congregation of buildings divided in the center by the main-line tracks of the Santa Fe Rail-road, a haphazard hamlet bounded on the south by a brown stretch of the Arkansas (pronounced "Ar-kan-sas") River, on the north by a highway, Route 50, and on the east and west by prairie lands and wheat fields. After rain, or when snowfalls thaw, the streets, unnamed, unshaded, unpaved, turn from the thickest dust into the direst mud. At one end of the town stands a stark old stucco structure, the roof of which supports an electric sign - dance - but the dancing has ceased and the advertisement has been dark for several years. Nearby is another building...
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...A Company of Swans Chapter One There was no lovelier view in England, Harriet knew this. To her right, the soaring towers of King's College Chapel and the immaculate lawns sloping down to the river's edge; to her left, the blue and gold of the scillas and daffodils splashed in rich abundance between the trees of the Fellows' Gardens. Yet as she leaned over the stone parapet of the bridge on which she stood, her face was pensive and her feet— and this was unusual in the daughter of a professor of classics in the year 1912— were folded in the fifth position. She was a thin girl, brown-haired and brown-eyed, whose gravity and gentleness could not always conceal her questing spirit and eagerness for life. Sensibly dressed in a blue caped coat and tarn o'shanter bought to last, a leather music case propped against the wall beside her, she was a familiar figure to the passers-by: to ancient Dr. Ferguson, tottering across the willow-fringed bridge in inner pursuit of an errant Indo-Germanic verb; to a gardener trimming the edges of the grass, who raised his cap to her. Professor Morton's clever daughter; Miss Morton's biddable niece. To grow up in Cambridge was to be fortunate indeed. To be able to look at this marvelous city each day was a blessing of which one should never tire. Harriet, crumbling bread into the water for the world's most blase ducks, had told herself this again and again. But it is not cities which make the destinies of eighteen-year-old girls, it is people— and...
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...In Cold Blood Truman Capote I. The Last to See Them Alive The village of Holcomb stands on the high wheat plains of western Kansas, a lonesome area that other Kansans call "out there." Some seventy miles east of the Colorado border, the countryside, with its hard blue skies and desert-clear air, has an atmosphere that is rather more Far West than Middle West. The local accent is barbed with a prairie twang, a ranch-hand nasalness, and the men, many of them, wear narrow frontier trousers, Stetsons, and high-heeled boots with pointed toes. The land is flat, and the views are awesomely extensive; horses, herds of cattle, a white cluster of grain elevators rising as gracefully as Greek temples are visible long before a traveler reaches them. Holcomb, too, can be seen from great distances. Not that there's much to see simply an aimless congregation of buildings divided in the center by the main-line tracks of the Santa Fe Rail-road, a haphazard hamlet bounded on the south by a brown stretch of the Arkansas (pronounced "Ar-kan-sas") River, on the north by a highway, Route 50, and on the east and west by prairie lands and wheat fields. After rain, or when snowfalls thaw, the streets, unnamed, unshaded, unpaved, turn from the thickest dust into the direst mud. At one end of the town stands a stark old stucco structure, the roof of which supports an electric sign - dance - but the dancing has ceased and the advertisement has been dark for several years. Nearby is another building...
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