[…] wanting to take her temperature and not make her feel like a cyberwhore, something she said she felt like when I would just e-mail her sexy things out of the blue.

Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God.

No adjective is strong enough for characterizing this wicked dog-in-the-manger policy. From various sources I hear tales of such wanton destruction of nations' property in all parts of India.

Little McTiernan at the Door is giving out short-handl’d Peat-Cutters styl’d, by the Irish, ‘Slanes’.