I didn't belong when I was in high school. Now people are trying to buy lips.
Ol' Shoot from the Lip," we call him.
I am sure I would love to do it now, but back then, I was, like, 11 and it was 'ugh.' There's nothing sexual or sexy when you're that age. So I was kissing Brad Pitt. So what? He had chapped lips. He was lovely and kind and sweet to me, but it was just yuk.
I didn't really because I know myself well enough to know that if I actually sit down and think about sort of I can spook myself out like anyone, you know? It's sort of like you've got to sort of jump out of the airplane when you're skydiving. If you spend 20 minutes sitting on the lip you probably won't do it.
Being a teenager is the worst thirty years of your life. Peer pressure, acne, final exams, seven little tiny hairs on your upper lip. Luckily, the girls never noticed your infantile moustache, 'cos they were hyptonised by the fire engine sized zit on your forehead.
Agents of disruption, subversion, sabotage and disinformation tunnelers and smugglers, listeners and forgers, trainers and recruiters and talent spotters and couriers and watchers and seducers, assassins and balloonists, lip readers and disguise artists.
My friends are trying to get me to go out on blind dates. Big 'NO' to that because all my friends are a bunch of lying geeks. They're always like, 'Brian, you're really gonna dig this girl. She's got Traci Lords' eyes, Michelle Pfeiffer's nose, Kim Basinger's lips.' Yeah, they always forget to tell me she's also got Charlie Brown's head.
If you have a lip ring try hanging some tiny keys from it. This will make you look even more interesting.
The ethics of sex is a thorny problem. Each of us is forced to grope for a solution he can live with - in the face of preposterous, unworkable, and evil code of so-called 'Morals.' Most of us know the code is wrong, almost everybody breaks it. But we pay Danegeld by feeling guilty and giving lip service. Willy-nilly, the code rides us, dead and stinking, an albatross around the neck.
What the world's million lips are searching for, must be substantial somewhere.
My lips, I've used collagen. I line my lips with collagen.
In case you're wondering whether I lip synch, the answer is no... people think so because I sound so good.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" - one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I like a tranquil, even-keeled, self-controlled God. A God who doesn't fly off the handle at the least provocation. A God who lives one step above the fray. A God who has that British stiff upper lip even when disaster is looming. When I read my Bible, though, I keep running into a different God, and I'm not pleased. This God says he "hates" sin. Well, he usually yells it. Read the prophets. It's just one harangue after another, all in loud decibels. And when the shouting is over, then comes the pouting. ... When all else fails, he throws himself in front of the car.
If you use a positive word, the corners of your lips go upward and it makes you smile.
Courage to me means ploughing through that dull gray mist that comes down on life-not only overriding people and circumstances but overriding the bleakness of living. A sort of insistence on the value of life and the worth of transient things...My courage is faith-faith in the eternal resilience of me-that joy'll come back, and hope and spontaneity. And I feel that till it does, I've got to keep my lips shut and my chin high, and my eyes wide
Dior makes the best lip glosses going. I'm nuts about them, especially the clear one with the silver sparkles. I got addicted to DiorShow Mascara, too. It makes you look like you're wearing false eyelashes. It's the only one that rivals Maybelline.
In the orchard and rose garden I long to see your face. In the taste of Sweetness I long to kiss your lips. In the shadows of passion I long for your love.
I really love a red lip, especially when I am feeling tired, as it brightens my whole face.
When I get home, I'm not the boss like I am at work - I slip into a more feminine role. I take everything off and put on my Stella McCartney silk robe. I'll put on a red lip or red nails, and it lifts my mood. Sexy underwear also gives you a spark.
It is of little use for us to pay lip-loyalty to the mighty men of the past unless we sincerely endeavor to apply to the problems of the present precisely the qualities which in other crises enabled the men of that day to meet those crises.
Undoubtedly our Heavenly Father tires of expressions of love in words only. He has made it clear through his prophets and his word that his ways are ways of commitment, and not conversation. He prefers performance over lip service. We show our true love for him in proportion to our keeping his words.
I don't really wear lip gloss often, but I do like to wear a dab of lipstick. I put a dab on my lip and mix it with some of my chapstick, and people think it's my natural color!
You can never go wrong with a nice red lip. I'm not afraid to wear it during the day or basically any time because I wear a lot of black and it's a great backdrop for it.
When I was young, to have a big nose, big lips or dark skin was the worst. You were the wretched.
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