Belly Button Ring Guide
Belly Button Ring Guide : Pictures Of Mood Rings : Pure Titanium Ring.
- A person's navel
- navel: a scar where the umbilical cord was attached; "you were not supposed to show your navel on television"; "they argued whether or not Adam had a navel"; "she had a tattoo just above her bellybutton"
- The navel (clinically known as the umbilicus, also known as the belly button) is a scar on the abdomen, caused when the umbilical cord is removed from a newborn baby. All placental mammals have a navel. It is fairly conspicuous in humans.
- Boyz in the Sink is a fictional band of VeggieTales characters who first appear in the Silly Songs with Larry segment of The Ballad of Little Joe in August 2003. Like other recurring themes such as , the group is made up of familiar VeggieTales characters performing specific roles.
- lead: take somebody somewhere; "We lead him to our chief"; "can you take me to the main entrance?"; "He conducted us to the palace"
- A thing that helps someone to form an opinion or make a decision or calculation
- steer: direct the course; determine the direction of travelling
- usher: someone employed to conduct others
- A person who advises or shows the way to others
- A professional mountain climber in charge of a group
- a characteristic sound; "it has the ring of sincerity"
- sound loudly and sonorously; "the bells rang"
- An act of causing a bell to sound, or the resonant sound caused by this
- a toroidal shape; "a ring of ships in the harbor"; "a halo of smoke"
- Each of a series of resonant or vibrating sounds signaling an incoming telephone call
- A telephone call
How To Manage Belly Button Rings During Pregnancy
Many women resist removing their belly button rings during pregnancy, especially if they are younger and this is their first birth. Piercings can sometimes bring comfort to a pregnant...
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Day 1 - The time machine
The following is loosely based on factual events, only the people, events and entire plot have been altered in order to protect the innocent.
7:20 a.m.
Between the compulsions of my bowel movements, I make out a faint whispering. This profound stillness intrudes my daily prayer to the hidden kingdom where all things unwanted eventually go to. Perhaps a stranger watching me, I offer my paranoid mind. But it soon becomes clear that this is no peeping pervert waiting for me to touch myself in inappropriate ways. For within his words are instructions to build a time machine, which will take me to the exact moment I am in right now. But an unwanted passing of wind quickly washes away his last words. I wipe not once, but twice over, for yesterdays hurried job left my pants wet and wanting.
7:23am
I stumble to my computer and Google my name, just to make sure I still exist. Instead, I find the day old peanut butter and onion sandwich caught between my e-mail and my Flickr page. It begins to browse my search history and starts laughing at me for having jerked off to refrigerator porn yesterday. The light shutters, the couch giggles. I am not amused. I make myself a bologna-PROZAC sandwich just to make it jealous, when the voice returns.
"This is not a dream" It says to me.
"A man in a Chuck Norris T-shirt and a cabbage hat is at your door."
Just then, the door quacks.
I hesitate, then answer to find this exact man, staring at me as though I just pooped on his pizza.
"Confucius has no anus", he said, then hoped away on one leg.
This was perhaps the greatest thing anyone has ever said to me, next to my mother's dying words, which were to never forget to wash my balls before eating roasted popsicle.
9:01am
I go to work, where my job consists of pushing paperclips in equilateral shapes and insulting unsuspecting people. I barely sit, and the phone rings. I hesitate. Our receptionist likes to lick the phones when no ones looking. I answer none the less.
"Sigmund Freud has 2 penises and 1 vagina."
"Thank you", I say politely and hang up.
The mini-fridge in the corner starts flirting with me, so I reach into my pocket and pull out an orgasm. After which, my penis alerts me that it's time to pee. I wash my hands before the deed and not after, because I keep an exceptionally clean penis. I struggle with a multi-directional stream, once hitting me in the face and twice on the shoe. An odd occurrence from my usually thick frothy stream due to my large urethra. Which makes me suddenly recall my last sexual encounter. This tramp I picked up at the bar 2 blocks from my pad. I went up to her and asked if she lives around here often. She never stood a chance. In the throws of passion, she moans for me to squirt all over her. Instead, I spill all over the floor.
11:35am
I delay returning to my office space for as long as I can. The washroom is where I am most productive, once haven written the great American novel on half a roll of soiled toilet paper. A dog enters. It says our weekly projections meeting will be under way shortly. There, we discuss our lawsuit against the letter P. A suggestion of boredom strikes me, and my mind escapes momentarily to entertain thoughts of fruitcake and purple tickle monsters.
5:25pm
The walk-in clinic is only 10 minutes from work. The door reads "entrance at rear", and once there, the other reads "temporarily closed, please use other door". A line of people had begun to form outside the clinic, gathered in perpetual purgatory, pending a persuasive passivity to partake in a passing perversion... damn you letter P! Once inside, I see a bright yellow arrow. Beneath it reads "clinic left", to which another group of people gather, trying to figure out where it went to. The waiting room is filled with loud fingerprints. I contemplate the profound meaning of the words "please take a number". The courtesy mint tastes of peppermint and armpit. My number is called, and I'm overcome with the excitement you get when they call out your name. I am guided through countless corridors only to return to where I started. I take another number. This goes on for some time. The doctor enters the room and stands in the corner, arguing with his elbow. I tell him about the voices, but he cuts me off and prescribes 12 hours of reality television.
7:20pm
I take part in the ritualistic orgy of coffee drinkers, all bred to be good consumers. We gather at a Starbucks strategically located inside of a Starbucks, and tell tall tales totaling testicular teasings... watch it letter T! The walls are layered with pictures or menstrual cramps and aborted fetuses. A cardboard cutout resembling a cashier approaches and offers me a paper napkin for my anal leakage. I order cat piss and ulcer extract for the usual fee of an addictive personality.
7:48pm
A homeless man kicks me in the shin and t
So long, and thanks for all the pants.
I seem to be doing alot of partial bw and colour at the moment but i dont mind :) its nice to experiment. title is taken partially from the title of the sequel to the hitch hikers guide to the galaxy by Douglas adams.
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Ended up being my final piece for my fine art project 'this place'
belly button ring guide
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