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Jordan Brand built the Jordan 31 Low For Sale with the I in mind

Le 12 mai 2017, 06:51 dans Humeurs 0

For the New Jordans 2017, the conversation started when Michael called the sneaker design team to his annual summer basketball camp in Santa Barbara. He gave them an edict: Go back and look at the three decades of product that Jordan Brand had created. Then build off that history to create something fresh.To commemorate this legendary moment, Jordan Brand is thus launching a special “Flight Guy” collection for Summer 2017. Standouts from the project, the Air Jordan 1 and Air Jordan XX1, launch globally on April 1.The JB fam each had anywhere from four to eight XXXI colorways to choose from, making it an extremely memorable Jordan sneaker.
This Jordan 31 Low For Sale comes dressed in a White, Chrome and Pure Platinum color combination. As you can see, they feature predominate White while Flyknit across the base. In addition, suede is used which acts as a cage. Once again we have a full length Zoom Air unit while Chrome lands on the Nike Swoosh. Completing the look is a new circular traction on the outsole.With the Air Jordan XXXI, we celebrate the risks and rewards of Michael’s career and look forward to a future of continued innovation.The Michigan legislators have been slow to respond, offering little in the way of concrete progress towards remedying an issue that was created by them in the first place.
The Jordans 2018 Release Date represented that spirit that he brought to the basketball court by being so different,” adds Larry Miller, President Jordan Brand. “Michael kind of threw the rules out on how you were supposed to play the game. The shoe kind of threw the rules out on what a basketball shoe was supposed to be… People who weren’t even into basketball found out about the shoe and it became this catalyst for where we are today.

原文地址:http://blog.ulifestyle.com.hk/blogger/newjordans2017sale/?p=3011648

 

The Perfect Dog

Le 7 septembre 2016, 11:17 dans Humeurs 0

During summer vacations, I would volunteer at the vet's, so I'd seen a lot of dogs. Minnie was by far the funniest-looking dog I'd ever seen. Thin curly hair barely covered her sausage-shaped body. Her bugged-out eyes always seemed surprised. And her tail looked like a rat's tail event mangement.
 
She was brought to the vet to be put to sleep because her owners didn't want her anymore. I thought Minnie had a sweet personality, though. "No one should judge her by her looks," I thought. So the vet spayed her and gave her the necessary shots. Finally, I advertised Minnie in the local paper: "Funny-looking dog, well behaved, needs loving family."
 
When a young man called, I warned him that Minnie was strange looking. The boy on the phone told me that his grandfather's sixteen-year-old dog had just died. They wanted Minnie no matter what. I gave Minnie a good bath and fluffed up what was left of her scraggly hair Online Reputation Management. Then we waited for them to arrive.
 
At last, an old car drove up in front of the vet's. Two kids raced to the door. They scooped Minnie into their arms and rushed her out to their grandfather, who was waiting in the car. I hurried behind them to see his reaction to Minnie.
 
Inside the car, the grandfather cradled Minnie in his arms and stroked her soft hair. She licked his face. Her rattail wagged around so quickly that it looked like it might fly off her body. It was love at first lick.
 
"She's perfect!" the old man exclaimed.
 
I was thankful that Minnie had found the good home that she deserved.
 
That's when I saw that the grandfather's eyes were a milky white color - he was blind school finder.

Going Home

Le 16 août 2016, 06:54 dans Humeurs 0

  I first heard this story a few years ago from a girl I had met in New York's Greenwich Village. Probably the story is one of those mysterious bits of folklore that reappear every few years,

to be told a new in one form or another. However, I still like to think that it really did happen, somewhere, sometime Wedding Planning.

  They were going to Fort Lauderdalethree boys and three girls and when they boarded the bus, they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags, dreaming of golden beaches as the gray cold

of New York vanished behind them.

  As the bus passed through New Jersey, they began to notice Vingo. He sat in front of them, dressed in a plain, ill-fitting suit, never moving, his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing

the inside of his lip a lot, frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.

  Deep into the night, outside Washington, the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's, and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat, and the young people began to wonder about him,

trying to imagine his life: perhaps he was a sea captain, a runaway from his wife, an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus, one of the girls sat beside him and introduced

herself.

  “We're going to Florida,” she said brightly.“ I hear it's really beautiful.”

 “It is, ” he said quietly, as if remembering something he had tried to forget.

  “Want some wine?” she said. He smiled and took a swig Hair Styling course. He thanked her and retreated again into his silence. After a while, she went back to the others, and Vingo nodded in sleep.

  In the morning, they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's,and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked

nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully, he told his story. He

had been in jail in New York for the past four years, and now he was going home.

  “Are you married?”

  “I don't know.”

  “You don't know?” she said.

  “Well, when I was in jail I wrote to my wife,” he said. “ I told her that I was going to be away a long time, and that if she couldn't stand it, if the kids kept asking questions, if it

hurt too much, well, she could just forget me, I'd understand. Get a new guy, I saidshe‘s a wonderful woman,really somethingand forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me for

nothing. And she didn‘t. Not for three and a half years.”

  “And you're going home now, not knowing?”

  “Yeah,” he said shyly. “ Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through, I wrote her again. We used to live in Brunswick, just before Jacksonville, and there's a big oak

tree just as you come into town. I told her that if she'd take me back, she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree, and I'd get off and come home. If she didn't want me, forget itno

handkerchief, and I'd go on through.”

  “Wow,” the girl exclaimed Muti Media course. “Wow.”

  She told the others, and soon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick, looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children. The woman was handsome

in a plain way, the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.

  Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seats on the right side, waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. The bus acquired a dark, hushed mood,

full of the silence of absence and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con's mask, as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.

  Then Brunswick was ten miles, and then five. Then,suddenly, all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shouting and crying, doing small dances of joy. All except

Vingo.

  Vingo sat there stunned, looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs20 of them, 30 of them, maybe hundreds, a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the

wind. As the young people shouted, the old con rose and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.

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