原标题: 重庆星宸整形医院整形美容快问信息
Jerry Baldwin was 30 years old. He was the manager of a pizza restaurant. He lived in an apartment about one mile north of the restaurant. He walked to and from work. When it was raining, he took the bus.Jerry loved gangster movies. When a new one came out, he would go to the theater and watch the new movie three or four times. Then, when it went to , Jerry would buy the at Barney’s Video Store. Jerry had a home collection of over 1,000 gangster s. Old ones, new ones, color, black and white, English, Spanish, Japanese--he loved them all. He could tell you the name of the movie, the director, the stars, and the plot. Did you say you liked “Pulp Fiction”? Well, Jerry would rattle off all the details of that movie. And then he would invite you to his place to watch it some time. He was a nice guy.Jerry finally decided that he would like to own a gun, just like the gangsters. So he saved his money for a couple of years. Then he went to a gun store and bought a used .38 caliber revolver for 0. While there, he also bought a couple of boxes of ammunition. The following Saturday morning, he went to the gun club to practice with his new revolver. He was in the club for only 10 minutes when he accidentally dropped his pistol. The gun went off, and the bullet went into Jerry’s right knee.Jerry now walks with a limp and a cane, just like some gangsters. Article/201106/139880她既然也有一个女儿获得了美满的姻缘,自然衷心快慰,因而也不会不想到趁此去向班纳特太太反唇相讥一下。于是她拜望浪恩的次数比往常更加频繁,说是她如今多么高兴,不过班纳特太太满脸恶相,满口的毒话,也足够叫她扫兴的了。Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness; nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to sp at Meryton.Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet#39;s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return.Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth#39;s abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so y to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.Mr. Collins#39;s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley#39;s continued absence.Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood. Article/201109/153844

有声名著之双城记BOOK THE SECONDTHE GOLDEN THREADCHAPTER IFive Years LaterTELLSON'S Bank by Temple Bar was an old-fashioned place, even in the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty. It was very small, very dark, very ugly, very incommodious. It was an old-fashioned place, moreover, in the moral attribute that the partners in the House were proud of its smallness, proud of its darkness, proud of its ugliness, proud of its incommodiousness. They were even boastful of its eminence in those particulars, and were fired by an empress conviction that, if it were less objectionable, it would be less respectable. This was no passive belief, but an active weapon which they flashed at more convenient places of business. Tellson's (they said) wanted no elbow-room, Tellson's wanted no light, Tellson's wanted no embellishment. Noakes and Co.'s might, or Snooks Brothers' might; but Tellson's, thank Heaven!--- Any one of these partners would have disinherited his son on the question of rebuilding Tellson's. In this respect the House was much on a par with the Country; which did very often disinherit its sons for suggesting improvements in laws and customs that had long been highly objectionable, but were only the more respectable. Thus it had come to pass, that Tellson's was the triumphant perfection of inconvenience. After bursting open a door of idiotic obstinacy with a weak rattle in its throat, you fell into Tellson's down two steps, and came to your senses in a miser-able little shop, with two little counters, where the oldest of men made your cheque shake as if the wind rustled it, while they examined the signature by the dingiest of windows, which were always under a shower-bath of mud from Fleet-street, and which were made the dingier by their own iron bars proper, and the heavy shadow of Temple Bar. If your business necessitated your seeing `the House,' you were put into a species of Condemned Hold at the back, where you meditated on a misspent life, until the House came with its hands in its pockets, and you could hardly blink at it in the dismal twilight. Your money came out of' or went into, wormy old wooden drawers, particles of which flew up your nose and down your throat when they were opened and shut. Your bank-notes had a musty odour, as if they were fast decomposing into rags again. Your plate was stowed away among the neighbouring cesspools, and evil communications corrupted its good polish in a day or two. Your deeds got into extemporised strong-rooms made of kitchens and sculleries, and fretted all the fat out of their parchments into the banking house air. Your lighter boxes of family papers went up-stairs into a Barmecide room, that always had a great dining-table in it and never had a dinner, and where, even in the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty, the first letters written to you by your old love, or by your little children, were but newly released from the horror of being ogled through the windows, by the heads exposed on Temple Bar with an insensate brutality and ferocity worthy of Abyssinia or Ashantee. But indeed, at that time, putting to death was a recipe much in vogue with all trades and professions, and not least of all with Tellson's. Death is Nature's remedy for all things, and why not Legislation's? Accordingly, the forger was put to death; the utterer of a bad note was put to Death; the unlawful opener of a letter was put to Death; the purloiner of forty shillings and sixpence was put to Death; the holder of a horse at Tellson's door, who made off with it, was put to Death; the coiner of a bad shilling was put to Death; the sounders of three-fourths of the notes in the whole gamut of Grime, were put to Death. Not that it did the least good in the way of prevention--it might almost have been worth remarking that the fact was exactly the reverse--but, it cleared off (as to this world) the trouble of each particular case, and left nothing else connected with it to be looked after. Thus, Tellson's, in its day, like greater places of business, its contemporaries, had taken so many lives, that, if the heads laid low before it had been ranged on Temple Bar instead of being privately disposed of' they would probably have excluded what little light the ground floor had, in a rather significant manner. Cramped in all kinds of dim cupboards and hutches at Tellson's, the oldest of men carried on the business gravely. When they took a young man into Tellson's London house, they hid him somewhere till he was old. They kept him in a dark place, like a cheese, until he had the full Tellson flavour and blue-mould upon him. Then only was he permitted to be seen, spectacularly poring over large books, and casting his breeches and gaiters into the general weight of the establishment. Outside Tellson's--never by any means in it, unless called in--was an odd-job-man, an occasional porter and messenger, who served as the live sign of the house. He was never absent during business hours, unless upon an errand, and then he was represented by his son: a grisly urchin of twelve, who was his express image. People understood that Tellson's, in a stately way, tolerated the odd-job-man. The house had always tolerated some person in that capacity, and time and tide had drifted this person to the post. His surname was Cruncher, and on the youthful occasion of his renouncing by proxy the works of darkness, in the easterly parish church of Houndsditch, he had received the added appellation of Jerry. The scene was Mr. Cruncher's private lodging in Hanging-sword-alley, Whitefriars: the time, half-past seven of the clock on a windy March morning, Anno Domini seventeen hundred and eighty. (Mr. Cruncher himself always spoke of the year of our Lord as Anna Dominoes: apparently under the impression that the Christian era dated from the invention of a popular game, by a lady who had bestowed her name upon it.) Mr. Cruncher's apartments were not in a savoury neighbourhood, and were but two in number, even if a closet with a single pane of glass in it might be counted as one. But they were very decently kept. Early as it was, on the windy March morning, the room in which he lay a-bed was aly scrubbed throughout; and between the cups and saucers arranged for breakfast, and the lumbering deal table, a very clean white cloth was sp. Mr. Cruncher reposed under a patchwork counterpane, like a Harlequin at home. At first, he slept heavily, but, by degrees, began to roll and surge in bed, until he rose above the surface, with his spiky hair looking as if it must tear the sheets to ribbons. At which juncture, he exclaimed, in a voice of dire exasperation: `Bust me, if she ain't at it agin!' A woman of orderly and industrious appearance rose from her knees in a corner, with sufficient haste and trepidation to show that she was the person referred to. `What!' said Mr. Cruncher, looking out of bed for a boot. `You're at it agin, are you? After hailing the morn with this second salutation, he threw a boot at the woman as a third. It was a very muddy boot, and may introduce the odd circumstance connected with Mr. Cruncher's domestic economy, that, whereas he often came home after banking hours with clean boots, he often got up next morning to find the same boots covered with clay. `What,' said Mr. Cruncher, varying his apostrophe after missing his mark--'what are you, up to, Aggerawayter?' Article/200903/63509

My truck seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. I drove very slowly, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through Main Street.  我的卡车似乎不怕路面上的那层黑冰。不过,我还是开得很慢,不想在主干道的车流中开出一条贯通的毁灭性小道。  When I got out of my truck at school, I saw why I#39;d had so little trouble. Something silver caught my eye, and I walked to the back of the truck — carefully holding the side for support — to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Charlie had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains on my truck.My throat suddenly felt tight. I wasn#39;t used to being taken care of, and Charlie#39;s unspoken concern caught me by surprise.  到了学校从车上下来以后,我明白了自己几乎没有遇到任何麻烦的原因。一样银色的东西映入了我的眼帘,我走到后面——小心地抓着车身——去查看轮胎,只见上面十字交叉呈菱形地绑着细细的链条。不知道查理多早起床,给我的卡车上了防滑链。我的喉咙一下子发紧了。我不习惯有人照顾的滋味,查理默默的关心,着实让我受宠若惊了一把。   I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when I heard an odd sound.  我靠着卡车的后角站着,竭力抑制住防滑链引起的那一阵突然的感动,这时,我听见了一个奇怪的声音。  It was a high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled.  是一阵尖锐的急煞车声,而且声音很快就大得惊人了。我抬头一看,惊呆了。  I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once.  我眼前同时发生了好几件事情,哪一件都不像电影的慢动作那样缓慢。相反,这种快节奏带来的肾上腺素激增,似乎令我的大脑转得快了许多,我能够同时清晰地注意到好几件事情的细节。  Edward Cullen was standing four cars down from me, staring at me in horror. His face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But of more immediate importance was the dark blue van that was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck,and I was standing between them. I didn#39;t even have time to close my eyes.  爱德华·卡伦站在距我四辆车的位置,一脸惊恐地盯着我。他的脸格外醒目,虽然有无数张脸,组成了一片脸的汪洋,而且也全都呆若木鸡,面无表情。但是更迫在眉睫的还是那辆滑行的深蓝色客货两用车,轮胎锁死了,刹车吱吱地尖叫,在停车场的冰面上打滑,旋转着向我撞来。眼看就要撞着我卡车的后角了,而我正好站在它们之间。我连闭眼都来不及了。  Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan car I#39;d parked next to. But I didn#39;t have a chance to notice anything else,because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me again.  就在我听到那辆客货两用车嘎吱一声撞上我卡车的底盘之前,什么东西撞击了我一下,很猛烈,但不是来自我以为的那个方向。我的头砰的一声磕在了冰冷的沥青路面上,感觉有某样硬而冷的东西把我压在了地上。我躺在一辆棕黄色的轿车后面的人行道上,我当时就把车停在这辆车的隔壁。但是没有机会去注意别的任何东西了,因为那辆客货两用车还在往前来。它绕过了卡车的车尾,发出了刺耳的磨擦声,还在旋转,还在滑动,眼看又要和我撞上了。  A low oath made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize. Two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the van#39;s body.  一句低声的咒骂,让我意识到有人跟我在一起,那声音听着很熟悉,不可能辨认不出来。两只长长的白手,箭一般地伸到了我前面来保护我,客货两用车在距我的脸一英尺远的地方颤抖着停住了,说来凑巧,那双大手与客货两用车侧面的一道凹痕正好吻合。  Then his hands moved so fast they blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me, swinging my legs around like a rag doll#39;s, till they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning metallic thud hurt my ears, and the van settled, glass popping, onto the asphalt — exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been.  他的双手移动得真快,快得都看不清了。一只手突然紧攥在客货两用车的车身下面,有什么东西在拽我,像拽布娃娃的腿那样,在拽我的双腿,直到我的腿抵着那辆棕黄色车的车胎为止。一个刺耳的声音砰地一下,把我的耳朵都震疼了,然后那辆客货两用车便停住了,玻璃砰砰几声全破碎了,落在了沥青上面——一秒钟前我的双腿所在的位置。 Article/201205/181929她对于夏绿蒂开头的几封信都盼望得很迫切,那完全是出于一种好奇心,想要知道夏绿蒂所说的话,处处都和她自己所预料的完全一样。她的信写得充满了愉快的情调,讲到一件事总要赞美一句,好象她真有说不尽的快慰。Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizabeth having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they parted; a wonderful instance of advice being given on such a point, without being resented.Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted by the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took up his abode with the Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His marriage was now fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she ;WISHED they might be happy. ; Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and when she rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother#39;s ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went downstairs together, Charlotte said:;I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza. ;;THAT you certainly shall. ;;And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?;;We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire. ;;I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford. ;Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the visit.;My father and Maria are coming to me in March, ; added Charlotte, ;and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome as either of them. ;The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that it should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was. Charlotte#39;s first letters were received with a good deal of eagerness; there could not but be curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to be; though, when the letters were , Elizabeth felt that Charlotte expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine#39;s behaviour was most friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins#39;s picture of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the rest. Article/201109/155660

“我是个穷人,陛下,”帽匠颤抖着说,“我只是刚刚开始吃茶点……没有超过一星期……再说为什么奶油面包变得这么薄呢……还有茶会闪光……” `Give your evidence,' the King repeated angrily, `or I'll have you executed, whether you're nervous or not.' `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, `--and I hadn't begun my tea--not above a week or so--and what with the b-and-butter getting so thin--and the twinkling of the tea--' `The twinkling of the what?' said the King. `It began with the tea,' the Hatter replied. `Of course twinkling begins with a T!' said the King sharply. `Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!' `I'm a poor man,' the Hatter went on, `and most things twinkled after that--only the March Hare said--' `I didn't!' the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry. `You did!' said the Hatter. `I deny it!' said the March Hare. `He denies it,' said the King: `leave out that part.' `Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said--' the Hatter went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too: but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep. Article/201104/134086Very Stupid Robbers 两个笨贼Two robbers were robbing a hotel. The first robber said, "I hear sirens. Jump!"The second one said, "But we're on the 13 th floor!"The first one screamed back, "This is no time to be superstitious!"两个盗贼在一家旅馆偷东西。第一个说:“我听到警报响了,快跳吧!”第二个说:“但是我们现在在第13层啊!”第一个尖叫着回敬他:“都什么时候了,还这么迷信!” Article/200804/35223A hangover is one of the worst feelings you can have. There’s nothing you can do to make it go away. You just have to wait for it to wear off. It usually takes a whole day and can even take two days to disappear. The most stupid thing about a hangover is that you never learn. A hangover is your body’s warning that too much alcohol is bad for you. When something is painful, you never do it again. Not so with a hangover. When people have a hangover, they often drink again the next day. This makes your original hangover much worse. Many people have their own hangover “cure”. None of them work for me. All I can do is suffer. I suppose the best thing for a hangover is not to drink at all, or at least not drink too much. Article/201105/134546

Clinton Not Stopping in North Korea 克林顿不出访朝鲜President Clinton will not be stopping in North Korea at the end of his upcoming trip to Asia, a White House spokesman said today. However, he may still visit the communist country before leaving office in January, White House press secretary Jake Siewert said.The news came after three days of missile talks between North Korean and U.S. officials in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, ended Friday with no agreement on ways to curb North Korea’s missile program — the main stumbling block in talks so far.白宫新闻秘书Jake Siewert今天宣布,美国总统克林顿在即将进行的亚洲之行中将不访问朝鲜。然而,这位白宫发言人还说,克林顿在明年1月份离任之前还可能会访问这个社会主义国家。这个消息是在美国与朝鲜在马来西亚吉隆坡的导弹谈判破裂后三天传出的,在周五结束的吉隆坡谈判上双方未能就限制朝鲜导弹发展这一影响美朝谈判的最大障碍达成任何协议。 Article/200803/30652It was their first vacation together in years. Meg and Oscar had been running their own jewelry business for years. They made a nice income, but they were busy all the time. They went to one trade show after another, flying throughout the US and often to China and other countries. Their last vacation was at least ten years ago. Recently, Oscar’s doctor said that Oscar’s high blood pressure was going to be the death of him. After questioning Oscar about his eating and exercise habits, he concluded that Oscar was stressing himself out at work. He told Oscar that he needed to stop and smell the roses more often.“In short,” he said, “I’m writing you a prescription for two weeks of Ramp;R—rest and relaxation, immediately. In fact, I want you to take off four weeks a year, and these must be nonworking vacations. No cell phone, no laptop. Do you understand me? In case you don’t, I’m telling Meg, too. You might not listen to me, but you will listen to her.”Meg canceled all their activities for the two weeks at the end of July. Fortunately, they did not have any flights scheduled. She booked them a nice hotel near Palm Springs. “We’ll catch up on our magazines, newspapers, and TV reruns,” she told Oscar. “We won’t even TALK about work for two weeks, okay? We’ll relax in the pool, get massages, and treat ourselves like royalty. Got it?”“Yes, ma’am,” Oscar said, smiling as he saluted her.The hotel had failed to tell them that it was undergoing renovations. But when it offered everything at half price, Meg and Oscar stayed. The second morning, about 10, Oscar told Meg he was going to take a swim. She told him not to forget his sun block. She went back to sleep. When she woke up at noon, she put on her swim suit and went outside.She couldn’t stop screaming when she saw Oscar submerged beneath the water. His foot had gotten caught in a suction vent that workers had not covered properly. He had been under water for ten minutes.A month after the funeral, back home, Meg was going through her mail. The hotel, apparently worried about a lawsuit, had sent her an offer to stay there free for a month. The congenial letter suggested that she “Bring a friend!” Article/201104/132593

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