GET OUT OF MY VAN HALEN T SHIRT. CUSTOM T SHIRT DESIGN ONLINE. 70'S ROCK T SHIRTS
Get Out Of My Van Halen T Shirt
- Van Halen is the debut studio album by American hard rock band Van Halen, released in February 1978.
- bring out: take out of a container or enclosed space; "Get out your best dress--we are going to a party!"
- exit: move out of or depart from; "leave the room"; "the fugitive has left the country"
- pull out: move out or away; "The troops pulled out after the cease-fire"
- jersey: a close-fitting pullover shirt
- T Shirt is a 1976 album by Loudon Wainwright III. Unlike his earlier records, this (and the subsequent 'Final Exam') saw Wainwright adopt a full blown rock band (Slowtrain) - though there are acoustic songs on T-Shirt, including a talking blues.
- A T-shirt (T shirt or tee) is a shirt which is pulled on over the head to cover most of a person's torso. A T-shirt is usually buttonless and collarless, with a round neck and short sleeves.
- A short-sleeved casual top, generally made of cotton, having the shape of a T when spread out flat
Get Out!: 150 Easy Ways for Kids & Grown-Ups to Get Into Nature and Build a Greener Future
Get Out! is chockful of ideas to get families, classrooms, and groups outside learning about nature, experiencing the world in new ways, and taking a hands-on approach to the three r’s (reduce, reuse, recycle). Chapters on being a green consumer and green eater, as well as on choosing an issue and taking a stand, make for a well-rounded yet easy-to-use handbook for making a difference indoors and out. Open to any page to find something to do today. The payoff is huge: Not only is nature just plain awesome to be in, research shows that spending time outdoors can actually improve our physical and emotional health. Bonus: Kids who learn to love nature will naturally do more to conserve it. Eureka!
The Headbanger in Full-Bloom
OH, GOD! ~CRINGES!~
Senior photo. The hair! The HAIR! Yeah, definitely had my headbanger goin' on here, as I was, well, still a dirty white boy, but my dirty-blond-boyishness had long since disappeared, fortunately or unfortunately (depending on your particular disposition). I absolutely hated having to wear that f*ckin' shirt, tie, and jacket, but Sarasota High School (in Florida) wouldn't let us do otherwise. Had a great smile, too. NOT! LOL! If you listen to the current research, this is why I got divorced... because I didn't smile in my graduation photo. Heh. (You can make of that research what you will.)
At this point, I was very much listening to Foreigner, Boston, Van Halen, Queen, KISS, Deep Purple, Grand Funk Railroad, Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, and others. If they had long hair, played loud music, encouraged rebellion, promoted the idea of free thinking, then I was pumping their music into my ears.
By now, the writer was in full-bloom, as I had already written an entire portfolio full of science fiction, fantasy, mystery, and other sorts of short stories, novellas, novelettes. I wrote my very first science fiction short story when I was about 6- or 7-years-old, in fact. None of those stories I wrote back then still exist, fortunately (or unfortunately—again, depending on your disposition), and that's probably for the better, too, since it was all crap. :P Well, let's just say that I was still learning how to write good, publishable fiction, so although it was crap, it wasn't wasted crap, if that makes any sense.
It's been said that a writer has to write at least a million words before they get to the good stuff. (I believe it was Ray Bradbury who said this.) I've easily written that, and I think the quality of my current stories show it. (Certainly, the fact that the stories I submit now get the good sorts of rejections is testimony to the improvement of my writing.) Not surprisingly, I was also, at the time of this photo, very much aiming at writing novels, and fantasizing about being invited on the Tonight Show by Johnny Carson to talk about my latest novel—and now I'm aging myself. :P
You can also see in this photo that the intellectual/geek/nerd had absolutely taken firm root at this age (I was 17, almost 18). For a term paper in an English class during my sophomore year of high school, back when I was living in England, my subject was nuclear power and its development. Got an A on that paper, and went on to ace the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test, too, and qualified for every bloody job every branch of the military had to offer.
I was originally going to enlist in the Navy and work as an Electronic Technician in their Nuclear Power field. It would've meant a six-year enlistment, because the school alone was 2 years long, and in the end I would've ended up either on a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier or nuclear-powered sub. On the day that I was to enlist in the Navy, however, I deliberately overslept. :P LOL! I had decided I didn't want that, and totally pissed off my recruiter. Yeah, the rebel was still alive and well. My mum had to wake me up to tell me that the recruiter was on the phone, and when I picked up, he proceeded to call me all sorts of names, including telling me in no uncertain terms that I had shown that I had absolutely no integrity, bla, bla, bla. ~YAWN!~ So, in response to that, I went back to the recruiter's office, and, after figuring out which jobs interested me, signed up to join the Air Force.
Since I'm showing old photos (and this is the last of the bunch) and making confessions about my past, I might as well add another confession to the mix. When I finally got into Air Force bootcamp, at Lackland AFB, in San Antonio, Texas, the evening of the day that they cut my hair, I cried, and I was crying because the f*ckers had taken my hair. I knew it would happen. After all, from birth until age 17, I was an Air Force brat, and was well aware that they were going to cut all my locks off. (Also, by the time I'd turned 17, I'd spent 10 of those years living overseas in Japan, Thailand, and England. I would later go on to spend more years of my life overseas, living in Greece. Even today, I can still boast that I've lived one-quarter of my life overseas.)
In many ways, not much has changed in all the years that have passed, yet I'm also a very different person from what I was back then.
My eyes are flowers
My ears are trees
My mouth is the wind
I like this a lot
Okay so I've lost everyone on flickr. My style has somewhat changed, so I don't think people like my work anymore. But I still love all of your work! Help me get back all of you're lovely comments and critiquing!
Okay, I just have to tell flickr how I have been. I'm fantastic. I'm so much better than I used to be. I am in Arizona for the long weekend (: I flew out Thursday and so far I have gotten... 3 backpacks, a tote, and a duffel bag (HANDMADE IN ECUADOR) (how awesome is that?!?!??!), two shirts from my grandma, two belts from her, a film camera and more to come. I went shopping yesterday and got jewelry, shirts, and two pairs of short boots. Today I got a roll of film developed and I got records: Van Halen, Air Supply, and Paul McCartney. I went to a ghost town and and got some bracelets and earrings. I have less than twenty bucks left and I don't care cause I'm just so happy.
I just got some Indian boots, moccasins, and corduroy boots from my grandma <3
get out of my van halen t shirt
Whether you find the government oppressive, the economy spiraling out of control, or if you simply want adventure, you’re not alone. In increasing numbers, the idea is talked about openly: Expatriate.
Over three hundred thousand Americans emigrate each year, and more than a million go to foreign lands for lengthy stays.
But picking up and moving to another country feels like a step into the void. Where to go? How to begin? What to do?
Volume 2 of the Process Self-Reliance Series, this smartly designed two-color guidebook walks you through the world of the expat: the reasons, the rules, the resources, and the tricks of the trade, along with compelling stories and expertise from expatriate Americans on every continent.
Getting Out shows you where you can most easily gain residence, citizenship, or work permits; where can you live for a fraction of the cost of where you’re living now; and what countries would be most compatible with your lifestyle, gender, age, or political beliefs.
So if you’ve had enough of what they’re selling here and want to take your life elsewhere—well, isn’t that the American way? At any rate, it’s not illegal. Not yet, anyway.
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