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| Yes, it wasn't the first time ... some 60 years earlier, Benjamin ... |
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| Nepotism plagues the cricket ruling body in India Noisy Post |
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| Then: The Earlier Years |
Source : http://imentalhealth.net/natural-alternatives/noisy-three-years-earlier
Related video about Noisy . Three years earlier
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Commonly question about Noisy . Three years earlier
Question :
Can you evict neighbors for being noisy at night?
I don t think I can call police for my neighbors tumping around a night (enought to wake their downstairs neighbor) should I have done this last year when it started? They had the nerve to complaint to the lanlod that I knocked on the wall/ceiling. Hmm not why would someone knock three times at 3am!!! I though it d be less polite to knock on the door (not to mention get dressed) that early in the morning. They drop things, stomp across the floor which actually now rattles my windows. Move furniture (which I once hoped was them moving out no such luck) and favorite is when they run around with their dog it s three againest one here in this little studio. The lastest is running a very powerful fan which even earplugs don t bock out above 33 bds. I even thought of sleeping in my bathtub to try to escape the concougphy but no luck there bath room is above mine. M other neighbors say they never heard me. 3taps on the ceiling with a rubber ball pales in comparsion 2 their daily noise levelAnswer :
we must remember that it is our duty to not to disturb the neighbour, and this should be the feeling of every neighbour. im so lucky that my neighbour are happy with me and they are with me. i treat other person as i wish to be treated. so try to teach them this message with kindness.and hopefully they will understand your expressions.
we must remember that it is our duty to not to disturb the neighbour, and this should be the feeling of every neighbour. im so lucky that my neighbour are happy with me and they are with me. i treat other person as i wish to be treated. so try to teach them this message with kindness.and hopefully they will understand your expressions.
Source(s):
my own experienceQuestion :
I took the train to a rough suburb of Philadelphia by the name of Norristown. My appearance would certainly shock everyoneI was completely disheveled and dirty. My normally close cropped, jet black hair, had debris and dirt in it, making it look to be a lighter grayish brown color. It had grown in a time when there wasnt a comb or brush in sight.
My clothes where dirty, wrinkled and unkempt, circles had grown around my dark brown eyes and my full figured lips had grown dry and cracked to the point where it actually hurt a bit to speak. I wondered what they would think when I arrived.
As I approached the long set of stairs at the Norristown courthouse, my attempt to sneak inside failed, being that the press and media swarmed.
David, do you think this could be the end of your writing career, before it even began?
Is it true your own father put you out of the house, after the death of your mother?
All these questions they asked made it apparent that my life has become the reality show event of the year. All I could hope for at that point was death. As I walked through the building, my shoes squeaked as if I walked across the ocean to arrive there.
Opening the door with my left hand, I struggled to pull the weighty door fully open. I had to use my scraped, stiff, right hand to painfully assist the left. Once inside the courtroom, many of the spectators had already arrived early to the big trial of the year. Curiously they waited for the next chapter in this storied circus would be. They arrived so early that they had front row seats of the train wreck named David Summers. As I walked through the gallery of the courtroom, I didnt look any of them in the eyes at first, but I knew they caught a glimpse of me, because the noisy chatter died down. When I did look around, I could tell from the befuddled looks on their faces that they were in utter shock to see me in this state. Some stared subconsciously; their mouths gaping wide open in shock. I saw my friends Brittany and Brandon sitting next to each other, they both sat fidgety in their seats, that is, until they caught a glimpse of me. Little did any of them know, I was going to surrender myself.
Brittany put her hand over her mouth and tears welded up in her eyes, while Brandon seemed to brave my appearance and embrace her. My revengeful, spiteful, father sat in the corner with a smug grin on his face.
How did I get to this place of being a homeless man, desperate for the luxuries of Prison, when three years ago, I was in a very wealthy family? I mean, my mother was a Movie Producer and my father a successful Politician.
The sound of the courtroom doors behind me swinging open bounced off of the wooden interior of the court room, and through all the chatter in the room, I heard the door swing back closed. When I turned around, I saw Winston Newman walk in with his huge entourage. With a deliberate swagger, he made his way to the prosecution bench. As he got closer to me, my appearance made him slow down his already slow pace. His face squeezed, as if he just ate a particularly sour lemon wedge, he seemed taken back.
They sat their briefcases and papers on the prosecutors desk. Winston brought a team of five different attorneys with him, undoubtedly the best in the nation, and there I stood again, with nobody. The only thing I had with me was a stench that came off my body. Winston had a gray suit that hugged his enormous upper body, with a white shirt and a brilliant red power tie. His slicked back hair accompanied his clean shaven face. He was a rock; an immovable rock. He represented something you go around not through.
As the courtroom quieted, you could hear whispers that were surely in reference to me and my appearance. My beard itched because I hadnt shaved in months, or showered in weeks. All I wanted was for the session to get started, so I could surrender myself to a better arrangementJail.
The moment came right before the trial was to begin; the tension built, all I could think about was my impending, failure due to come by the end of the day.
At that, I heard the courtroom doors open again. Before I got a chance to glance behind me, I heard high heels tapping in a heart pounding familiar rhythm, the room became silent and an electrical p
Read and rate my prologue?
My hearing with Winston Newman was August 18th 2005. Not knowing what to expect, I planned to leave New York City the evening of August 17th; best case scenario, I would be put in jail. In a sobering but strange way, jail seemed like the solution. In jail they have food, clothing, proper lighting, and everything I could possibly need to get my life back together. My plan was to walk into that courthouse, plead guilty to anything they pin on me and take the punishment.I took the train to a rough suburb of Philadelphia by the name of Norristown. My appearance would certainly shock everyoneI was completely disheveled and dirty. My normally close cropped, jet black hair, had debris and dirt in it, making it look to be a lighter grayish brown color. It had grown in a time when there wasnt a comb or brush in sight.
My clothes where dirty, wrinkled and unkempt, circles had grown around my dark brown eyes and my full figured lips had grown dry and cracked to the point where it actually hurt a bit to speak. I wondered what they would think when I arrived.
As I approached the long set of stairs at the Norristown courthouse, my attempt to sneak inside failed, being that the press and media swarmed.
David, do you think this could be the end of your writing career, before it even began?
Is it true your own father put you out of the house, after the death of your mother?
All these questions they asked made it apparent that my life has become the reality show event of the year. All I could hope for at that point was death. As I walked through the building, my shoes squeaked as if I walked across the ocean to arrive there.
Opening the door with my left hand, I struggled to pull the weighty door fully open. I had to use my scraped, stiff, right hand to painfully assist the left. Once inside the courtroom, many of the spectators had already arrived early to the big trial of the year. Curiously they waited for the next chapter in this storied circus would be. They arrived so early that they had front row seats of the train wreck named David Summers. As I walked through the gallery of the courtroom, I didnt look any of them in the eyes at first, but I knew they caught a glimpse of me, because the noisy chatter died down. When I did look around, I could tell from the befuddled looks on their faces that they were in utter shock to see me in this state. Some stared subconsciously; their mouths gaping wide open in shock. I saw my friends Brittany and Brandon sitting next to each other, they both sat fidgety in their seats, that is, until they caught a glimpse of me. Little did any of them know, I was going to surrender myself.
Brittany put her hand over her mouth and tears welded up in her eyes, while Brandon seemed to brave my appearance and embrace her. My revengeful, spiteful, father sat in the corner with a smug grin on his face.
How did I get to this place of being a homeless man, desperate for the luxuries of Prison, when three years ago, I was in a very wealthy family? I mean, my mother was a Movie Producer and my father a successful Politician.
The sound of the courtroom doors behind me swinging open bounced off of the wooden interior of the court room, and through all the chatter in the room, I heard the door swing back closed. When I turned around, I saw Winston Newman walk in with his huge entourage. With a deliberate swagger, he made his way to the prosecution bench. As he got closer to me, my appearance made him slow down his already slow pace. His face squeezed, as if he just ate a particularly sour lemon wedge, he seemed taken back.
They sat their briefcases and papers on the prosecutors desk. Winston brought a team of five different attorneys with him, undoubtedly the best in the nation, and there I stood again, with nobody. The only thing I had with me was a stench that came off my body. Winston had a gray suit that hugged his enormous upper body, with a white shirt and a brilliant red power tie. His slicked back hair accompanied his clean shaven face. He was a rock; an immovable rock. He represented something you go around not through.
As the courtroom quieted, you could hear whispers that were surely in reference to me and my appearance. My beard itched because I hadnt shaved in months, or showered in weeks. All I wanted was for the session to get started, so I could surrender myself to a better arrangementJail.
The moment came right before the trial was to begin; the tension built, all I could think about was my impending, failure due to come by the end of the day.
At that, I heard the courtroom doors open again. Before I got a chance to glance behind me, I heard high heels tapping in a heart pounding familiar rhythm, the room became silent and an electrical p
Answer :
I like your writing and style.
You captured my interest.
I have a few suggestions, if you will:
1. Take the last sentence in the first paragraph and place it first, that is the first sentence in your prologue.
2. Go though this piece and question each significant word: does it way what you mean it to?
Examples: 6th paragraph "Some stared subconsciously." Do people really stare subconsicously?
Next to the last paragraph: "failure due to come by the end of the day" Do you mean "failure" or tragedy or disaster? If failure, what does he fail at? Being sentenced?
I m not trying to be picky but to point out the need to work harder at diction.
But I think you have potential as a writer, so that s why I bothered to mention these things.
I like your writing and style.
You captured my interest.
I have a few suggestions, if you will:
1. Take the last sentence in the first paragraph and place it first, that is the first sentence in your prologue.
2. Go though this piece and question each significant word: does it way what you mean it to?
Examples: 6th paragraph "Some stared subconsciously." Do people really stare subconsicously?
Next to the last paragraph: "failure due to come by the end of the day" Do you mean "failure" or tragedy or disaster? If failure, what does he fail at? Being sentenced?
I m not trying to be picky but to point out the need to work harder at diction.
But I think you have potential as a writer, so that s why I bothered to mention these things.
Question :
I need help on a noisy cockatiel?
I ve had my cockatiel for about a year now and hes always been good when it comes to the noise. Last week I bought him this much bigger flight cage so he d have alot space, but ever since he started living in there, hes become more of a nuisance. He starts squeaking really loudly three times as early, and ive been waking up since 6 AM because of it every day. He tries his best to make more racket now, pulling the blanket off the top of the cage and waking up my other bird. I dont know what to do, I like my cockatiel, but I need to get sleep too, but its almost impossible now. any adviceAnswer :
Seperate them at night Use a darker cover and use clothes pins to keep it on the cage so he cant pull it off. get him set up on a wake up and feeding schedule.
Seperate them at night Use a darker cover and use clothes pins to keep it on the cage so he cant pull it off. get him set up on a wake up and feeding schedule.
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