In August 2013, The Sun's Republic of Ireland edition replaced topless Page 3 girls with clothed glamour models. Its UK editions followed suit in January 2015, discontinuing Page 3 after more than 44 years. The Daily Star became the last print daily to drop topless photographs, moving to a clothed glamour format in April 2019. This ended the Page 3 convention in Britain's mainstream tabloid press. As of 2022, the only British tabloid still publishing topless models is the niche Sunday Sport. Only old geezers buy it anymore. Others prefer peering down the bottomless pit.
ellauri214.html on line 226: It supposedly originated from a conversation between the actress Lillie Langtry and the Bishop of Worcester. They were at a country house weekend party and on Sunday morning before church, they went for a stroll in the garden. On their walk, the bishop cut his finger on a rose thorn. Over lunch, Lillie enquired about his injury, asking: "How is your prick?" To which, the Bishop replied: "Throbbing", causing the butler to drop the potatoes.
ellauri219.html on line 36: undays.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/beatles-5.jpg" width="100%" />
ellauri226.html on line 73: Love’s performance on behalf of Trump on Sunday was the main attraction for the event, according to the LA Times. Tickets ran from $2,800 per person to up to $150,000 for a couple to be considered “co-chairs’’ of the event.
ellauri236.html on line 63: The research is the latest in a growing body of evidence that social platforms are failing to prevent a flood of disinformation — some of it tinged with violence — on their services ahead of the runoff election Sunday between President Jair Bolsonaro and former president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. Brazilian lawmakers last week granted the nation’s elections chief unilateral power to force tech companies to remove misinformation within two hours of the content being posted — one of the most aggressive legal measures against North American social media giants that any country has taken.
ellauri236.html on line 79: Win or Lose, Bolsonaro Has Destroyed Trust in Brazil’s Elections. President Jair Bolsonaro has attacked Brazil’s electronic voting system. Now, ahead of Sunday’s elections, many of his supporters believe there will be fraud.
ellauri236.html on line 88: DUQUE DE CAXIAS, Brazil — For many supporters of President Jair Bolsonaro, Sunday’s presidential election in Brazil can have just two possible outcomes: They celebrate or they take to the streets.
ellauri236.html on line 98: One man interviewed by The New York Times played a video he received on WhatsApp that said Mr. Bolsonaro had visited Russia this year to get President Vladimir V. Putin’s help in fighting the Brazilian left’s plans to steal Sunday’s election.
ellauri240.html on line 502: Our decade-plus of award-winning content spans digital, television, branded, and live engagements, with hits such as Street Stunts for Oprah´s Super Soul Sunday, Kid President, My Last Days, Science of Happiness, Tell My Story, and more. In 2016 SoulPancake joined the Participant family, with like-minded visions of making the world a better place through thoughtful, inspiring content. As one unified voice under the Participant brand, we are building a global community using storytelling as the vehicle to reimagine better futures of peace and prosperity for all, and cultivating pathways for our audiences to create real world impact. And to sell maximum number of MeUndies on the side.
ellauri254.html on line 385: In 1899, as Fyodor Sologub progressed in the teaching profession while continuing to elaborate his literary career, Sologub was appointed principal of the Andreevskoe municipal school in Saint Petersburg. With the position came an apartment on Vasilievsky Island, which Sologub shared with his sister Olga. In the late 1890s and at the beginning of the 1900s, the art world of Petersburg saw Konstantin Sluchevsky’s ‘Fridays’, and Sergei Diaghilev’s ‘Wednesdays’: literary salons which were attended by the leading poets and artists of the day. Sologub had been a participant of both groups; and between 1905 and 1907, his apartment on Vasilievsky Island became the home of ‘Sundays’, a regular meeting place for Petersburg’s nascent intellectuals.
ellauri254.html on line 393: In August 1910, Sologub and his wife moved to a larger apartment, at Razyezzhaya ulitsa in the centre of Petersburg. The short and brisk sentences of Anastasia Chebotarevskaya’s writing have been viewed as a potential influence on Sologub’s own work; and she encouraged his acquaintance with the young writers of Russian Futurism, a distinctive literary movement which was then just beginning to flower. Yet the influence of Anastasia on her husband has not been unanimously well received. The humourist Teffi – who was one of the group who frequented the ‘Sundays’ gatherings at Sologub’s Vasilievsky Island home – wrote that Sologub’s marriage:
ellauri264.html on line 433: The festival´s chair, Caroline Michel stated on 18 October 2020 that the event would not return to Abu Dhabi, in support of a curator Caitlin McNamara´s allegation of sexual assault against the tolerance minister of UAE, Sheikh Nahyan bin Mubarak Al Nahyan. McNamara claimed that she was assaulted by the minister when they met at a remote island villa in February 2019 concerning work. The Emirati Foreign Ministry declined to comment on personal matters. When reached out, Britain´s Metropolitan Police confirmed receiving a report of alleged rape on July 3 by a woman. Rape by a woman, WTF??? In November 2020, Caitlin McNamara vowed to fight on following the CPS October 2020 decision to not prosecute the UAE minister because the alleged attack had occurred outside its jurisdiction. McNamara said the decision sent a message to Sheikh Nahyan and others who commit similar crimes "that as long as they´re of economic value to the UK, they can do whatever they want". In an interview with The Sunday Times McNamara said she felt "abandoned" by the Hay Festival, and in an interview on Channel 4 stated that "mistakes" had been made in the way the festival handled her reporting the sexual assault to them which were "very distressing". What a pile of turds.
ellauri321.html on line 145: There, on a Sunday, he sees a congregation of respectable farmers and their wives, all clad in neat homespun, well mounted, or riding in their own humble waggons. There is not among them an esquire, saving the unlettered magistrate.
ellauri321.html on line 297: 5. Wallace Stevens, ‘Sunday Morning’.
ellauri322.html on line 334: It would, I think, be a great advantage to the English, if feats of activity (I do not include boxing matches) were encouraged on a Sunday, as it might stop the progress of Methodism. Aristocracy and fanaticism seem equally to be gaining ground in England, particularly in the North.
ellauri323.html on line 122: Came that Sunday night, notanda candidissimo calculo! when she received certain guttural compliments which made absolute her vogue and enabled her to command, thenceforth, whatever terms she asked for.
ellauri323.html on line 127: In Berlin, every night, the students escorted her home with torches. Prince Vierfuenfsechs-Siebenachtneun offered her his hand, and was condemned by the Kaiser to six months’ confinement in his little castle. In Yildiz Kiosk, the tyrant who still throve there conferred on her the Order of Chastity, and offered her the central couch in his seraglio. In Petersburg, the Grand Duke Salamander Salamandrovitch fell enamoured of her. The Grand Duchess appealed to the Tzar. Zuleika was conducted across the frontier, by an escort of love-sick Cossacks. On the Sunday before she left Madrid, a great bull-fight was held in her honour. Fifteen bulls received the coup-de-grace, and Alvarez, the matador of matadors, died in the arena with her name on his lips. He had tried to kill the last bull without taking his eyes off la divina senorita. From the Vatican, the Pope launched against her a bull which fell utterly flat.
ellauri334.html on line 172: Brittien Sun on niiden Seiska, Daily/Sunday Telegraph Uusi Suomi/Iltalehti.
ellauri334.html on line 192: "Tiedäthän, että sota alkaa yhdestä tekniikan tasosta ja päättyy täysin eri tasoon", hän kertoi Sunday Telegraphille toimistostaan Kiovassa.
ellauri334.html on line 199: Onnistuneita testejä on jo suoritettu seuraavan sukupolven ilmapuolustusantureille, jotka yhdistävät salaisia tekniikoita, joita Sunday Telegraph on päättänyt olla turvallisuussyistä paljastamatta tekoälyn kanssa.
ellauri336.html on line 590:

Sunday 3.11.2023 - Microsoft

I’m from a small rural community, and ev’rybody who lived in my neighborhood, if you want to call it that, were relatives.  We called it “the circle,” and our house was there, my grandmother’s house was there, an aun’ an’ uncle who were childless lived there, and (uh) a couple of aunts an’ uncles who had children.  There were five female cousins, an’ in the summertime we hung out together all day long from early until late.  In my grandmother’s yard was a maple tree, and the five of us developed that into our apartment building.  Each of us had a limb, and [small laugh] the less daring cousins took the lo’er limbs, and I and another cousin a year younger than I always went as far to the top as we could, an’ we– we were kinda derisive of those girls who stayed with the lower limbs.  We had front doors an’ back doors.  The front door was the — the limb — were the limbs on the front, that were nearest (um) the boxwood hedge.  And the grass was all worn away in that area.  An’ then the back doorwa–was on the back side of the tree, an’ you could only enter the front an’ exit from the rear.  And that had to be done by swinging off a limb that was fairly high off the ground, and (um) my cousin Belinda and I had no problem with that, but the other girls — that was always somethin’ we had to coax them into doin’.  But still, you entered the front, you left the rear.  We (um) ate our lunches together.  When it was lunchtime — an’ our mothers always cooked lunch in the summertime ’cause they didn’ want to be in the hot kitchen at night.  So we would just take our (um) — go home, an’ we’d load our plates with all the vegetables an’ the cornbread, an’ get our glasses of milk or ice tea or whatever we were havin’, an’ we would head for somebody’s yard, where we would all sit down an’ eat together.  It was just an institution:  lunch in somebody’s yard.  An’ if you wanted to go home for a second helping– sometimes that was quite a little walk, but it was worth it, because that was our thing, having lunch together, every day.  (Um) We gathered at my grandmother’s on Sundays.  All my aunts would get those chairs, form a circle.  (Uh) One crocheted.  (Uh) Most of them just sat an’ talked, an’ we girls hung out for the main part with the women.  (Uh) The men would gather around the fish pond, which was in a side yard.  It was (um) — it was kind of a rock (um) pond that my granddaddy had, had built.  There was a ir’n pipe in the middle, an’ when he went fishin’, he would put his catch in there.  Or he caught a mud turtle, he’d put it in there.  An’ there it stayed until it was time to kill it an’ cook it, whatever it was.  The pipe in the middle had water that sprayed up all the time.  There was a locust tree near there, an’ that’s where we girls picked the leaves an’ the thorns to make the doll clothes out o’ the locust.  It’s where we always ate the watermelon.  We always had to save the rind, an’ we always had to leave some pink on that rind, because my grandmother made watermelon pickles out o’ that rind.  I hated the things.  I thought they were the worst things I ever put in my mouth.  But ever’body else thought watermelon pickles were just a great delicacy.  That was also around the time that ev’rybody grew gladiolias [sic] an’ I thought they were the ugliest flower I’d ever laid my eyes on, but ever’body had gladiolias.  ‘Course now I’ve come to appreciate the gladiolia, but back then I had absolutely no appreciation for it.  It was also where we made (uh) ice cream, (uh) on the front porch.  We made ice cream on Sunday afternoons.  I had an aunt who worked in the general mercantile business that my family owned, an’ she was only home on Sunday, so she baked all day:  homemade rolls an’ cakes.  And so, she made cakes an’ we made ice cream, an’ ever’body wan’ed to crank, of course.  (Um) That was just a big treat, to get to crank that ice cream.  It was jus’ our Sunday afternoon thing, an’ I, I think back on it.  All the aunts would sit around an’ they’d talk, an’ they’d smoke.  Even if you never saw those ladies smoke, any other time o’ the week.  On Sunday afternoon when we all were gathered about in gran- in granny’s yard, they’d have a cigarette.  Just a way of relaxing, I suppose.  The maple tree’s now gone.  In later years, it was thought the maple tree, our apartment building, was shading the house too much an’ causing mildew, so it was removed at some point.  And I don’t, to this day, enjoy lookin’ (uh) into that part o’ the yard. …

Poems (Eliot)/Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service