Help Me Decorate My Living Room - Nativity Scene Outdoor Decoration - Red Kitchen Decorating.
Help Me Decorate My Living Room
living room: a room in a private house or establishment where people can sit and talk and relax
A room in a house for general and informal everyday use
The Living Room is a music venue on Ludlow Street on the Lower East Side in New York City that was established in 1988.
A living room, also known as sitting room, lounge room or lounge (in the United Kingdom and Australia), is a room for entertaining guests, reading, watching TV or other activities.
Provide (a room or building) with a color scheme, paint, wallpaper, etc
award a mark of honor, such as a medal, to; "He was decorated for his services in the military"
Confer an award or medal on (a member of the armed forces)
Make (something) look more attractive by adding ornament to it
make more attractive by adding ornament, colour, etc.; "Decorate the room for the party"; "beautify yourself for the special day"
deck: be beautiful to look at; "Flowers adorned the tables everywhere"
Help Me is Christian music icon Jaci Velasquez's debut album, released independently under the name "Jaci" in 1992. It is currently out-of-print and quite rare.
"Help Me" is a song by the Chicago-based punk rock band Alkaline Trio, released as the first single from their 2008 album Agony & Irony. It became the highest-charting single of the band's career, reaching #14 on Billboard's Modern Rock Tracks chart.
"Help Me" is the twenty-second episode and season finale of the sixth season of the American medical drama House. It first aired on May 17, 2010.
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To my shame, I believe it was this that made me lose faith and heart in my youth
RELIGION OF HATRED
Why we should no longer be cowed by the chattering classes ruling Britain who sneer at Christianity
By A N Wilson
Last updated at 1:22 AM on 11th April 2009
Comments (21)
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A week ago, there were Palm Sunday processions all over the world. Near my house in North London is a parish with two churches.
About 70 or 80 of us gathered at one of these buildings to collect our palms.
'Where we are standing in Kentish Town does not look much like a Judaean hillside, and the other church to which we are walking does not look much like Jerusalem.
But as we go, holding our palms, let us try to imagine the first Palm Sunday.'
And so we set off, singing All Glory, Laud And Honour! and holding up our palm crosses, to the faint bemusement of passersby, who looked out of their windows at us, tooted their horns as we blocked the traffic or smiled from sunny pavements.
We were walking, as it were, in the footsteps of Jesus as he entered Jerusalem on a donkey while crowds threw palms before him.
Except our journey was along the pavements strewn with the usual North London discarded syringes, chewing gum and Kentucky Fried Chicken boxes.
When we had reached our destination, a small choir and two priests sang the whole of St Mark's account of the last week of Jesus's life - that part of the Gospel that is called The Passion.
It is said the chant used for this recitation dates back to the music used in the Jewish Temple in Jesus's day.
We heard of his triumphal, palm-strewn procession into Jerusalem, his clash with the Temple authorities, his agonised prayer in the garden of Gethsemane, his arrest by the Roman guards, his torture, his trial before Pontius Pilate, his Crucifixion and his death.
So there we were, all believers, and a disparate group of people, of various ages, races and classes, re-enacting once more this extraordinary story.
A story of a Jewish prophet falling foul of the authorities in an eastern province of the Roman Empire, and being punished, as were thousands of Jews during the governorship of Pontius Pilate, by the gruesome torture of crucifixion.
This Easter weekend we revisit the extraordinary ending of that story - the discovery by some women friends of Jesus that his tomb was empty.
And we read of the reactions of the disciples - fearful, incredulous, but eventually believing that, as millions of Christians will proclaim tomorrow morning: 'The Lord is risen indeed!'
But how many in Britain today actually believe the story? Most recent polls have shown that considerably less than half of us do - yet that won't, of course, stop us tucking into Easter eggs (symbolising new life) and simnel cake (decorated with 11 marzipan balls representing the 11 true disciples, with Judas missing).
For much of my life, I, too, have been one of those who did not believe. It was in my young manhood that I began to wonder how much of the Easter story I accepted, and in my 30s I lost any religious belief whatsoever.
Like many people who lost faith, I felt anger with myself for having been 'conned' by such a story.
I began to rail against Christianity, and wrote a book, entitled Jesus, which endeavoured to establish that he had been no more than a messianic prophet who had well and truly failed, and died.
Why did I, along with so many others, become so dismissive of Christianity?
Like most educated people in Britain and Northern Europe (I was born in 1950), I have grown up in a culture that is overwhelmingly secular and anti-religious. The universities, broadcasters and media generally are not merely non-religious, they are positively anti.
To my shame, I believe it was this that made me lose faith and heart in my youth.
It felt so uncool to be religious. With the mentality of a child in the playground, I felt at some visceral level that being religious was unsexy, like having spots or wearing specs.
This playground attitude accounts for much of the attitude towards Christianity that you pick up, say, from the alternative comedians, and the casual light blasphemy of jokes on TV or radio.
It also lends weight to the fervour of the anti-God fanatics, such as the writer Christopher Hitchens and the geneticist Richard Dawkins, who think all the evil in the world is actually caused by religion.
The vast majority of media pundits and intelligentsia in Britain are unbelievers, many of them quite fervent in their hatred of religion itself.
The Guardian's fanatical feminist-in-chief, Polly Toynbee, is one of the most dismissive of religion and Christianity in particular. She is president of the British Humanist Association, an associate of the National Secular Society and openly scornful of the millions of Britons who will quietly proclaim their faith in Church tomorrow.
'Of all the elements of Christianity, the most repugnant is the notion of the Christ who took our sins upon himself and sacrificed his body in agony to save our souls.
Did w
My Angel
For years I have been going through a lot of emotional rollercoasters and have not been able to break this downward spiral.
Some time ago I met someone who I thought to be my savior. She wasn't and just paved the rocky road down hill furthermore.
So a year back I decided the only one who could possibly break this spiral is me and only me. And I acted upon this decision and chose for myself. I socialized, I got better at my job and got higher up. I graduated...bought a house and moved out of the parental home. I created a new circle of friends....friends who care...friends who love and friends who are my kind of people. I love them!
When I moved out I realized that this was just the start and not the end of the road I had chosen and that there are so many things left to do before I'm completely rescued.
So I decided to make my life simpler and more Black and White so I decorated my entire home in this theme of Black and White.
After which I realized that in the past whenever I have had a goal and visualized that goal, I have achieved that goal faster by far. Being a photographer and all I chose to make my next goal visually accessible for myself.
For breaking this downward spiral completely I need someone else to come and rescue me. Hence I made this picture with the help of Annika as my model and Petra Beil for helping me out.
In a few weeks this picture will be on my living room wall and I shall be reminded that there is angel coming to the rescue any minute! And that I should be ready!
help me decorate my living room
Amy is a waitress in a cocktail bar. Her life is going nowhere until the night the blond, friendly and extremely sexy. One thing puzzles her. How did he get the nickname Snake? Her mind says it may have something to do with the bulge in his slacks.
One night Snake invited Amy to join him for drinks after work. They had been tormenting each other every evening at the bar and it doesn't take long before Snake is showing Amy the reason for his nickname. After a night of unbelievable sex, Snake and Amy quickly become a couple. A fact which makes everyone in their immediate lives angry.
Jealousy reigns. And, a murder most foul is committed.
Amy is a waitress in a cocktail bar. Her life is going nowhere until the night the blond, friendly and extremely sexy. One thing puzzles her. How did he get the nickname Snake? Her mind says it may have something to do with the bulge in his slacks.
One night Snake invited Amy to join him for drinks after work. They had been tormenting each other every evening at the bar and it doesn't take long before Snake is showing Amy the reason for his nickname. After a night of unbelievable sex, Snake and Amy quickly become a couple. A fact which makes everyone in their immediate lives angry.
Jealousy reigns. And, a murder most foul is committed.