It is true that from a behavioral economics perspective we are fallible, easily confused, not that smart, and often irrational. We are more like Homer Simpson than Superman. So from this perspective it is rather depressing. But at the same time there is also a silver lining. There are free lunches!
As an athlete, I'd average four hours a day. It doesn't sound like a lot when some people say they're training for 10 hours, but theirs includes lunch, massage and breaks. My four hours was packed with work.
I bring my bike to work, and I make laps around our parking lot on my lunch break.
I was very fond of Princess Diana. She used to have me over to lunch to ask my advice. I'd give her good advice, and she'd say: 'I entirely agree. Paul, you're so right.' Then she'd go and do the opposite.
Take an Indian home to lunch.
Anyone who calls it "sexual intercourse" can't possibly be interested in actually doing it. You might as well announce you're ready for lunch by proclaiming, "I'd like to do some masticating and enzyme secreting."
You now have six-year campaigns for the Senate - you never stop running. It's not uncommon for a member of the Senate to have a fundraising breakfast, a fundraising lunch and a fundraising dinner, and then when the Senate breaks for the week to go home, more fundraisers. And that's driven by the cost of campaigning.
The garden is doing so well, we have so many greens and radishes that everyone is enjoying. Also, we are using one square as a compost bin, the Green Team is collecting food waste at lunch. Things are looking great, a huge thank you again.
Nice is good, but it's not enough. I want you back for real. I want to talk to you at lunch, instead of staring at you while you eat. I want to see the smile on your face and know I put it there. I want to hear your dad's voice get all low and pissed off, like it only does when I've stayed over too late.
Cinna just smiles. 'Had a damp morning?' 'You could wring me out,' I reply. Cinna puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me into lunch. ' Don't worry, I always channel my emotions into my work. That way I don't hurt anyone but myself.
The phone rang, picked up, and the same male voice announced, “Chris Powers." "Hey there, Chris. Are you aware it's a felony to make threats over the phone?" To give Powers his fair due, he got over his shock within a split second. “Try it, asshole. I dare you. My lawyers will have you for lunch.” He clicked off again. I did what any red-blooded American male would do. I called my big, ex-cop ex-boyfriend.
I think he likes you" Miranda Whispered. Realizing she and Derek had drawn attention, she glanced away. "He's probably just curious about me like everyone else" she whispered back. "Nope. He's hot for you" Della said, reminding Kylie of the supernatural hearing of some of the campers. "When he was sitting by you at lunch, he oozed so much testosterone that it was hard to breathe. He wants your body" Della teased. "Well, he's not getting it" Kylie said.
A computer chatted to itself in alarm as it noticed an airlock open and close itself for no apparent reason. This was because Reason was in fact out to lunch.
Of course it was a terrible thing, and the world would be a much better place without someone in it who could do that, but did that mean we had to miss lunch?
He groaned slightly and winced like Prometheus watching his vulture dropping in for lunch.
Bryn ate her bagel in silence, and by the time she was finished, Liam had already neatly packed her overnight bag and loaded it in MacAllister's car. He even included a new dog bed for Mr. French to travel in confort. Lunch was in moducal little boxes. "I think he is Alfred." "Actually, I often wonder if he's Batman.
But I have never had the privilege of unhappiness in Happy Valley. California is about the good life. So a bad life there seems so much worse than a bad life anywhere else. Quality is an obsession there—good food, good wine, good movies, music, weather, cars. Those sound like the right things to shoot for, but the never-ending quality quest is a lot of pressure when you’re uncertain and disorganized and, not least, broker than broke. Some afternoons a person just wants to rent Die Hard, close the curtains, and have Cheerios for lunch.
That seemed to handle it. That was it. Send a girl off with one man. Introduce her to another to go off with him. Now go and bring her back. And sign the wire with love. That was it all right. I went in to lunch.
Everyone runs around trying to find a place where they still serve breakfast because eating breakfast, even if it's 5 o'clock in the afternoon, is a sign that the day has just begun and good things can still happen. Having lunch is like throwing in the towel.
It's good to see you," Said Haru. "You can see me?" asked Marcus, patting himself in sudden shock."The potion must have worn off! That's the last time I give my lunch to a talking squirrel". P12
Booyah, I will summon the ninja. Oh, and take a lunch break while we burgle." "You're going, too?" "Am I not ninja enough? Are you saying that I lack ninja?" "No, I was just thinking you're a little, uh, recognizable, maybe?" Eve batted her thick eyelashes. "Why, thank you, sweetie. That's the nicest insult I've had today, not counting the jock who said he'd date me but he had a restraining order out for necrophelia.
It’s one thing to protect yourself,” Dad yelled at me during our very next lunch. “That I get. Have I ever told you not to defend yourself? No. But did you have to permanently maim him? I spent all that money on that on that fancy school for girls-not to mention all that money for the shrinks-and what did that get me?” I shrugged. “A seven-figure civil suit?
Mom put a note in my lunch again, I see... Dear son, I hope you will study hard in summer school... Do not look upon it as a punishment, but rather as a privilege... We are very proud of you, and want you to have a good education. This note will self-destruct in five seconds.
She looked around herself, disoriented, like she’d forgotten we were at lunch. Like she’d forgotten we were even at school-surprised that we were not alone in some private place. I understood that feeling exactly. It was hard to remember the rest of the world when I was with her.
[My dad] didn't do much apart from the traditional winning of bread. He didn't take me to get my hair cut or my teeth cleaned; he didn't make the appointments. He didn't shop for my clothes. He didn't make my breakfast, lunch, or dinner. My mom did all of those things, and nobody ever told her when she did them that it made her a good mother.
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