I kind of thought that he was going to have more lines than just one. Probably didn't merit an entire language, but you know. Hey, now there's a possibility for a great big giant monologue sometime in the future.
The same way all these things-- collaboration, engagement-- they're not just things that you make a beautiful classroom and then those things happen. even though they don't merit .
amply in evidence during his tour of the Ibis he examined the vessel from stem to stern even descending to the Keon and mounting the jib boom noting everything that merited attention either by way of Praise or blame and how does she sail Mr Reed oh she's a fine old Barky sir said Zachary swims like a swan stars like a
So lame argument number one, for example, the one that I cannot get over is in baseball you are allowed, if you're a pitcher, to replace your ulnar collateral ligament Who knows? But it certainly merits some investigation, right?
see us slaving away at our manuscript about the pure transcendence of nature while munching on somebody else's doughnut. Maybe it comes back to that same old issue we just can't see what we do is important enough to merit to help, the love. Try picture getting angry at Einstein devouring a doughnut brought to him by his assistant while he sat slaving on the theory of relativity.
I mean is this something that just consumes you? I had to really think about all of those opinions and how I would incorporate them into the story or whether they merited the incorporating in the story.
his Banality series sculpture of Michael Jackson and his pet chimpanzee Bubbles, or the photographs of him and his then wife engaging in various sex acts against My Pretty Pony, cotton candy backdrops. I would show obscene work here but it didn't see merited relative to the need for the example. The cumulative effect of doodles, neon signs, and a wax leg was already overloading our brains and slowing down our pace when we swiveled around and there it was, the piece de resistance. We all stared for a moment. My clinician father,
for another self esteem crushing hour with Mr. Quigley someone would come up behind you and tear the tab off the back of your pants. Now, it was no mystery from that point on who made your jeans but it was also no mystery that the group had decided, socially, that you didn't merit the right to wear that brand. So you ended up having to endure, you know, potentially another year, depending on how fast you were growing, of wearing these pants that were rendered, somehow, anonymous.