In light of Don Miller's "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years," I realized that I have trouble remembering. It gets hazy around 5 years old, and even then, I can only recall a couple events. Now, I don't have a long-term memory problem, but if I feel as if I don't write my life down, I won't think twice about it. And honestly, I can't think of that many things happening this past year, so I hope this will show me how I can live a more meaningful life.Plus, when I die, then I'll have stuff to talk to God about because right now, I think we'd have like an hour tops.
JL8 #98 by Yale Stewart
Based on characters in DC Comics. Creative content © Yale Stewart.
Like the Facebook page here!
—-
And with that, the last JL8 strip of 2012. See you guys next year!
-Yale
I think there’s something about how you are able to enjoy the smallest things about someone you love…like a laugh, or a look… actually, it probably happens even more when you know you like someone but they don’t know it… yet :P
Walls… #ONCEuponatime
this tidbit of wisdom brought to you by the drama Can We Get Married (우리가결혼할수있을까)
I wish weddings were like this too… alas, it’ll still be fun despite the stress and expenses haha.
(via miamygo)
Joseph Gordon-Levitt (via londonlily)
reblog again.
(via a-gwackattack)
(via miamygo)
(via etherity)
such a great story, haha.
Jason Wells, the kid who sat next to me in youth choir did me a huge favor in my quest for love.
He left Mrs. Blankenship’s 9th grade homeroom back window open.
Not at my high school. At his. Our rival high school. Lakeside High School
I had paid him 5 bucks and a month’s supply of NERDS.
Happiness happens!Somewhere in West Tennessee, not far from Graceland, nine women — or “The 9 Nanas,” as they prefer to be called — gather in the darkness of night. At 4am they begin their daily routine — a ritual that no one, not even their husbands, knew about for 30 years. They have one mission and one mission only: to create happiness. And it all begins with baked goods.
“One of us starts sifting the flour and another washing the eggs,” explained Nana Mary Ellen, the appointed spokesperson for their secret society. “And someone else makes sure the pans are all ready. We switch off, depending on what we feel like doing that day.
“But you make sure to say Nana Pearl is in charge, because she’s the oldest!” she added with a wink and a smile.
Over the next three hours, The 9 Nanas (who all consider themselves sisters, despite what some of their birth certificates say) will whip up hundreds of pound cakes, as part of a grand scheme to help those in need. And then, before anyone gets as much as a glimpse of them, they’ll disappear back into their daily lives. The only hint that may remain is the heavenly scent of vanilla, lemon and lime, lingering in the air.
In the realms of love, marriage and sex, the church has dropped the ball.
