Received: from [167.160.27.187] (port=49607 helo=crazygossipss.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cW4Vb-00016S-8W for lojban@lojban.org; Tue, 24 Jan 2017 09:03:55 -0800 Date: Tue, 24 Jan 2017 10:02:47 -0700 Subject: I am sickened by what Gwen-Stefani did on Ellen yesterday: So awful 22192370 From: "Blake-Shelton-Live" Message-ID: <44522295663cuc2c7e55fbfda4353ca10c7b6e541eeed72c2c7e55fbfda4353ca10c7b6e541eeed59lojban@lojban.org16ux> To: Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Mime-Version: 1 Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii X-Spam-Score: -0.4 (/) X-Spam_score: -0.4 X-Spam_score_int: -3 X-Spam_bar: / you and me aren't good
Home
Tickets
Photos
Video Clips



01.24.16 :: Filed Under : Inspiration :: Comments
Blake Leaves Gwen Last Night
Following Outburst
Update

Voice star and Country singer Blake-Shelton is so disgusted by what Gwen did yesterday

She went on Ellens show to reveal his biggest secret.


The Clip - Ellen Live > >


#blogger #gwenstefani #blakeshelton #ellendeGenere



Its important your happy and not bothered so please reqiest removal from these if you wish to not get further
Julio Nieland - 312 1/2 N 4Th Ave Yakima Wa 98902-2639

Further updates like these will stop when you tell us on this page
1626 Timoney Rd; Draper, UT 84020


CHAPTER NINE THE GOVERNMENT DOES NOT OWN THE AIR Water is very precious, said Mma Ramotswe. It is not cheap. Mma Makutsi was unimpressed. And soon there will be a bill for air, said Mma Makutsi. They will be saying: you have used so much of the Governments oxygen this monthplease pay us. Terms: thirty days net. Mma Ramotswe laughed. I do not think so, Mma Mma Makutsi, sticking down an envelope flap with perhaps slightly more force than was strictly necessary, cut her short. And who says the air belongs to the Government, anyway I dont think the Government says that, Mma. Oh, dont they I think they do, Mma. If they didnt say that the air belongs to them, then why do they say that you need their permission to fly through it Phuti knows a pilot, and he told him that he has to speak on the radio to some government people called Air Traffic Control and ask their permission to fly through the air above Gaborone. That means that they think they own itas if its their own yard, or something like that. Mma Ramotswe shook her head. They do not say they own the air, Mma. All that those people are doing is making sure that planes dont fly into one another. If youve got one plane going this way and another plane flying from the other direction and they meet, then that would not be very good, would it Mma Makutsi hesitated for a moment; but no, she was not convinced. They are just interfering, she said. The pilots can see exactly where theyre going. Theyre not asleep. It happens very quickly, said Mma Ramotswe. And there are clouds, Mma. You cannot see what is happening in a cloud. Then you shouldnt fly through them, snapped Mma Makutsi. You see a cloud and you go round it. That is all you need to do. Phuti says that its not a good thing to fly through clouds. You can get struck by lightning and then that will be the end. Mma Ramotswe was silent. She had great admiration for Mma Makutsi, but not when she was in one of these contrary moods. When that happened, she would dig in over some matter and become quite unreasonable, even if it was plain that she was arguing a lost cause. There were so many examples of her doing this, and Mma Ramotswe had learned that the best response was to change the subject. Lightning is very dangerous, she said. Not just in the air. That poor man in Molepololedid you read about him, Mma He was struck by lightning when he was walking home across a field. He is late now. It was very sad, said Mma Makutsi. I read that the lightning hit his hat. Perhaps he should have had a lightning conductor on the top of it, with a wire going down his back to the earth. Do you think that would work, Mma I do not think so, Mma Makutsi, said Mma Ramotswe. It is safer to stay indoors. Oh no, it isnt, came the quick rebuttal. One of the men who worked for Phutione of the men who loaded furniturehe fell over in his own house and broke his leg. They took him to hospital, but that stuff you have in the middle of your bones Bone marrow. Yes, that stuff. It leaked into his blood and blocked one of his pipes Blood vessels. Mma Makutsi shook her head solemnly. Exactly. It blocked it up and now he is late too. There was a silence. Mma Ramotswe looked at the clock. She had things to do outside the office, and she thought that it was a good time, perhaps, to get out and about and leave Mma Makutsi to attend to the office tasks. By the time she got back, Mma Makutsi might be in a less difficult mood. I have to go and see Mma Potokwane, Mma Ramotswe announced, rising from her chair. This business with Mr. Ditso. I must get some more details from her. That ones not going to end well, said Mma Makutsi. Well never find out anything about that man, Mma. Hes far too clever for us She looked across the room at Mma Ramotswe. Ill tell you something, Mma. You know how they say money talks Well, I say the opposite is true: money doesnt talk. And I say that because money never tells you where it has come from. Never. So if Mma Potokwane thinks that she will find out that this rich man of hers has got his money from some bad place, she is going to be very disappointed. Money has no mouth, Mma. It cannot speak. Mma Ramotswe shook her head. Dont give up before weve started, Mma. She paused. And remember: we have a secret weapon. Mma Makutsi frowned. And what would that be, Mma Mma Ramotswe waited for a few moments before she answered. Clovis Andersen, she said simply. The large round glasses caught the light; flashed. The contrariness evaporatedat least to an extent. Yes. Clovis Andersen. Oh yes! SHE DROVE OUT to Tlokweng along one of the back roadsa roundabout way that gave her time to get over the tension that Mma Makutsis odd mood had injected into the day. Driving, she found, always helped her to und, and as she made her way slowly along the ding dirt road she found herself smiling again. The one thing you could not say about Mma Makutsi was that she was dull; far from itMma Makutsi was what her friend Mma Moffat would have described as a character. And it was better to be a character, she felt, than to be one of those people who spoke about nothing at all, and probably thought about nothing too; such people were soporific and could be marketed by some enterprising person as walking sleeping pills. Yes, that was a good idea: if you had difficulty sleeping you could phone up one of these people and, for a small charge, they would come to your house and sit and look at you, and you would gradually nod off to sleep. You would have to pay them first, though, as otherwise they would have to wake you up to collect their fee, and that would defeat the purpose of calling them in the first place And there could be another service for people who felt sleepy but for some reason needed to keep awake. They could phone for Mma Makutsi, and she would come and talk about this and that and make the sort of remarks that would keep people on their toes, puzzling over what she meant, or getting irritated and hot under the collar because they disagreed with what she was saying. Makutsi Wakeup Services would be a good name for such a concern. There were so many possible businesses