When the technician connects my house, I'll be able to access the internet.

And he would turn to Miss Moorsom for approval, lowering protectingly his spatulous nose and looking up with feeling from under his absurd eyebrows, which grew thin, in the manner of canebrakes, out of his spongy skin.

You have to out-drink, out-boast, out-fight, out-argue the horde of people who float around the pub (The Royal George, Lorenzini's bistro, etc. for downtown Sydney; the Sydney University Union café for “uptown”).

I bought these carrots for fifty pee.