the FRED BLOGGS blog
...sharing a random thought daily since 2007!
Epochs are like those awkward family reunions where time stretches endlessly, and you can't help but wonder if anyone will ever leave the table.
In the gentle embrace of twilight, I find the strait a shimmering ribbon of dreams, where the whispers of the past dance gracefully upon the water's surface.
The quiet strength of my ovaries reminds me that within the depths of femininity lies an intricate dance of life and potential, both delicate and powerful.
Gasoline fills my veins with a rush, a wild energy that mirrors the roar of a guitar solo. The scent of it ignites memories of endless summer drives, freedom spilling out like the notes from my amp.
Worth is not solely defined by external achievements or material possessions; it emanates from the values we hold and the kindness we extend to others. In nurturing relationships and fostering understanding, I find that true worth lies in the connections we create and the impact we have on those around us. Embracing this perspective allows me to appreciate the richness of life beyond superficial measures.
The caftan is my ultimate expression of effortless elegance, draping me in a luxurious embrace that transcends both time and trend.
Discounts, dear reader, are the fleeting treasures of commerce that beckon the discerning shopper to seize opportunity. One must approach them with both eagerness and caution, for the allure of savings can often mask the true value of what is being offered.
A brooch is not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a statement, a piece of art that tells a story. When I wear one, I feel the weight of history and the brilliance of creativity clasped against my heart. Each brooch I collect is a treasure, a reflection of my passion for beauty and the extraordinary.
Duty wraps around me like a heavy scarf, both comforting and constricting, reminding me of the weight of my choices.
Won £2 on the lottery last night by not buying a ticket.
Subsidies are not just a financial tool; they are a vital instrument for shaping the future of our economy and ensuring that innovation flourishes.
The suite felt like a sanctuary, where the rhythm of the world faded and the music of my thoughts took center stage.
In the dim glow of the teletype's clatter, I find solace in the rhythm of distant stories weaving through the night.
The eardrum, like a steadfast sentinel, stands resolute against the tumult of the world, allowing only the most worthy sounds to pierce its vigilant defenses.
Didn't pay much attention when the Stewpot radio presenter chappie died the other day. But just discovered that I made gargling noises at him on the radio on my 1st birthday, and he played Wombling Summer Party for me.
The underpass, with its raw urban charm, serves as a canvas for the vibrant stories of life that unfold beneath the surface of the city.
Reconsideration, a vital act of introspection, allows me to navigate the complexities of human experience and align my convictions with the ever-evolving tapestry of truth.
Supper, with its flickering candlelight and the rich aroma of roasted meats, transports me to a realm of indulgence that is both comforting and exhilarating. Each bite is a symphony of flavors, a celebration of the senses that awakens the very essence of my being. In that moment, surrounded by laughter and the clinking of glasses, I am reminded that life, like a grand opera, is best savored in the company of others.
Ever feel like you're the only person who wasn't actually that keen on the Eagles? Personally I always found Hotel California rather annoying more than anything.....
My tummy is like that old car in the driveway—looks a little rough, makes some weird noises, but somehow still gets me where I need to go.
In a world that often demands conformity, I've found that true strength lies in the gentle embrace of our differences, where each unique voice weaves the rich tapestry of our shared humanity.
Wrapped in the warmth of your embrace, I find a bittersweet comfort in the way my heart leans on your strength, tethered to the melody of our shared solitude.
Wokingham. What's the point of that then?
With a sultry glance and a playful smirk, I find the allure of a horn to be as intoxicating as a forbidden secret whispered in the dim light of a smoky lounge.
Feeling the rhythm of hope in my heart, I dance with the power of belief, knowing that sometimes the sweetest remedy is just a whisper of promise.
Action feels like a dance, a rhythm that pulses through my veins, urging me to break free from the mundane. Each step I take is a declaration, a rebellion against the stillness that threatens to swallow me whole. In the chaos of movement, I find clarity, a truth that whispers just beneath the surface of the noise.
Sunbeams dance like wild stallions across the prairie, igniting the world with a golden glow that stirs the soul and beckons adventure.
The warmth of my soul dances in the shadows, where the heart finds its rhythm and the world outside fades away.
Disengagement feels like a dance where the music has faded, leaving only the echoes of a once vibrant connection.
Cummerbunds effortlessly blend sophistication with a touch of playfulness, making them a must-have in any stylish wardrobe.
A few decades ago we had Johnny Cash, Bob Hope and Steve Jobs. Now we have no Cash, no Hope and no Jobs. Please don't let Kevin Bacon die.
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