Wpisy oznaczone tagiem "ang" (23)  

ebook-romans
 
Autor: Day Leclaire

Angie Colter kocha się w szefie. Gdy Lucius zaczyna szukać idealnej żony, postanawia zaryzykować i dzięki sprytnemu posunięciu wkraść się do jego łóżka. Wprawdzie nie spełnia wygórowanych wymagań Luciusa, ale może dzięki kilku kobiecym sztuczkom ten nie odkryje jej podstępu?


Szczegóły publikacji:
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tomaszm21
 
Autor: Day Leclaire  

Angie Colter kocha się w szefie. Gdy Lucius zaczyna szukać idealnej żony, postanawia zaryzykować i dzięki sprytnemu posunięciu wkraść się do jego łóżka. Wprawdzie nie spełnia wygórowanych wymagań Luciusa, ale może dzięki kilku kobiecym sztuczkom ten nie odkryje jej podstępu?


Szczegóły publikacji:
www.nexto.pl/(…)kobiece_sztuczki_p96090.xml…

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Więcej ebooków z działu "romans", znajdziesz tutaj:
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ebook-czytaj-nas
 
Autor: Marlena Wilbik  

Polacy kochają fraszki.Polski apetyt na fraszki, rosnący od chwili odejścia legendarnego Jana Sztaudyngera, w pełni zaspokoi jego następczyni w spódnicy, Marlena Wilbik. Jej fraszki są frywolne, pełne lekkości, zabawne i bardzo pikantne. Jest jak kobieta angażująca się we flirt, który nie wiadomo, czy skończy się przy filiżance kawy, czy w łóżku.


Szczegóły publikacji:
czytajnas.nextore.pl/(…)kwiatki_z_rabatki_p91736.xm…

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ebook-klasyka
 
Autor: Rudyard Kipling  

Księga dżungli (ang. The Jungle Book) – zbiór opowiadań dotyczących Indii i ich folkloru oraz indyjskich dżungli. Autor, urodzony w Indiach, zdobył niezbędną wiedzę poprzez obserwacje, badania oraz dzięki zasłyszanym opowieściom.


Szczegóły publikacji:
czytajnas.nextore.pl/ebooki/ksiega_dzungli_p90202.xml

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ebook-obyczajowe
 
Autor: Ryszard Kapuściński  

Wykład z okazji otwarcia 36. Szkoły Języka i Kultury Polskiej Uniwersytetu Jagiellońskiego, 5 lipca 2005. Wersja polsko-angielska


"Darmowy fragment" do pobrania, znajdziesz tutaj:
czytajnas.nextore.pl/(…)spotkanie_z_innym__encounte…

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ebook-czytaj-nas
 
Autor: Piotr Czerwiński  

Napisana polsko-angielskim żargonem historia dwóch pozornie różnych Polaków, którzy za chlebem wyjechali do Irlandii. Pracują w dublińskiej fabryce, ich zajęcie jest tak ogłupiające, że aby nie oszaleć, uciekają w surrealistyczny świat kreskówek, muzyki i fantazji o powrocie Małego Księcia. Oszałamiająca mieszanka klimatów z Vonneguta i Kafki.


Szczegóły publikacji:
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Przebiegum życiae - ebook.jpg
 

openminded
 
I tried to figure out what just happened, but I couldn't think properly. I had a feeling that I'll brake down and start crying like a baby, but then someone opened the door. It was Hazel.
'So how was the talk with the psychiatrist?' = she asked as if she already knew what I was going to say.
'Well... Not bad.' - I lied.
'You're lying. Again. What's the point?' - she laughed.
'And what's the point of asking a question about something that you already know?' - I murmured.
'I've been talking to my dad. A phone call.' - she changed the subject.
'Oh, cool.' - I wanted to ask her about her mum, but I didn't think that it was appropriate.
'Yeah, my mum is dead.' - she talked with no expressions - 'And this orange pillow is the only thing that I've got after her death. She was a heroin addict. She never confirmed that she was addicted, but when you looked at her, you could see it. The veins full of heroin and empty heart. No love. No hate. Just heroin.
'I'm sorry.' - I felt really awkward, because I had no idea what to say.
'I'm not. She deserved it. She wanted to die. But I hope that she's okay now. I love her and will never forget her.' - she ended.
I felt really sorry for her. She lost her mum because of a stupid addiction to drugs.
Hazel laid down on her bed and buried her head into a pillow. I thought that she was crying, so I asked her if everything was okay. She didn't replied. I didn't know what to do, but I was sure that something is wrong with her. I couldn't just leave her crying.
 

openminded
 
...How the fuck did I ended up in a fucking mental hospital?! With all of these people in white aprons and all the ones that are mentally ill. Schizophrenic, anorexic, bulimic, self-harming, depressed, suicidal... All kinds... And what am I doing in here? It's not like I'm ill or something. And what should I do now? Run? Or stay?
'You can't run from here' - there was a girl, stood right behind me. She had this innocent look on her face. She looked as she was about 12, maybe 13.
'What do you mean?' - I turned around and asked.
'Well... There's no way out of this place. Being here is just like being in a cage. People stare at you all the time. They control everything you do and you must do everything they ask you to. Kind of a prison.' - she talked quietly as she was scared that someone was listening from behind.
She was young, but very pretty. Her skin was as pale and white as the walls in here. Her hair had a dark chocolate shade, exactly like her eyes.
'What's your name?' - I finally asked.
'Hazel.' - she whispered.
'My name is Jane. I was just thinking about what I'm doing in here. As I can see, there's a lot of insane people, so I was wondering what...' - I tried to finish.
'...You're one of us now.' - she interrupted with a little smile, but she was still very... creepy if there's a word to describe her.
'Us?' - I asked.
'Yes, us. You know, the "insane people"' - she laughed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I smiled and that was how I ended our conversation. I had nothing else to say, so I thought that shutting up was the best idea. I wandered around the hospital, looking for a way out. I wanted to run away, but Hazel was probably right. I can't run away from here. After a while I got lost.
'Jane? Is that you?' - I heard a voice, but I didn't know where it's coming from.
'Yes...?' - I asked anxiously.
'What are you doing in here?' - there was a man in a white apron. He was really tall and handsome, I must say and quite young. He was asking me very politely.
'I... I got lost.' - I felt really uncertain about every word I said.
'You shouldn't wander off in the first place.' - he started with a serious tone - 'Anyway, I'm Doctor Wilford, your psychiatrist.' - he added more positively.
'My... My... WHAT?' - I shouted.
'Your psychiatrist. Psychiatrist is a person that helps other people with their problems and I'm here to help you.' - said the psychiatrist.
I didn't said a word. Dr Wilford walked me back to my room.
The room was cold and dull. Nothing was in there, apart from two empty beds with a grey bedding... And a lonely wardrobe standing in the corner on it's own. And a lonely wardrobe standing in the corner on it's own. I decided to open it - who knows, I may find something interesting in there. I was wrong. It was full of dust and spider webs. It wasn't full of colourful clothes or anything. In fact, it was really difficult to find something with a colour in this hospital. Even people's faces were lacking in colour. My room was really small. I didn't think that anyone shares a room with me, but why are there two beds instead of just one?
Dr Wilford left me and closed the door. After few minutes someone knocked and opened the door even though I didn't say that they can come in. There was a man with a huge amount of keys hanging down his neck, he was holding two small suitcases. And they were mine of course. I decided to unpack them to make my room more cheerful.
I unpacked everything, but it didn't make me any more happy. I still felt like a prisoner and I still didn't knew why I'm in here.
I looked out of the double-glass window with steel bars. The weather was actually quite nice. Everything outside was full of life. There was a large garden too. Colourful flowers, new benches, but no people.
Someone knocked on my door, but this time waited for me to answer. It was Hazel. She was holding an orange pillow and said that she's moving to my room, because she's scared to be on her own. I felt quite special. I've been here for just an hour or so and I already made a friend.
'How you doing? Do you like it here?' - she asked as she put the pillow down on one of the beds and sat down on the bed she clearly declared as hers.
'Well... It's not bad.' - I answered hesitantly.
'You're lying. You hate this place. You just want to escape from here, but you know that it's impossible, so you just try to get used to this place.' - she summarized.
'How did you know?' - I asked.
'Because it's obvious. No one likes this place. It would be weird if someone did.' - she ended.
She was probably right. How can you even like this place? It's horrible. I shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, but this time I just had to, because how can this place be good, when it looks like a prison? Prisons are always awful.
Hazel said that she needs to go. She didn't explain where or why and I didn't ask. She left her pillow on the side of the bed. I wondered where she got it from. I sat on the bed and looked at the pillow. Something was written on it, but writing was too small for me too read it. "Mum" was the only word that I could read from the sentence on the pillow, so it's probably from her mum.
I went out of the room and my purpose was to find toilet as I desperately needed a wee. I walked out of the room and closed the door. When I turned around, I bumped into someone. It was Dr Wilford.
'Oh, hello Jane.' - he started - 'I was just going to see you. I want to talk you about what happened last night and how long will you have to stay, but also about the general rules in here.'
'Okay, but can you tell me where are the toilets?' - I asked nervously.
'Firstly turn left, go straight ahead and then turn right. You'll find yellow doors with...' - he explained.
'Thank you.' - I interrupted.
I know that it's rude to interrupt, especially older people than me, but I really needed a toilet.
The hospital was full of different long corridors, rooms and doors, but luckily the way to toilets wasn't too complicated. When I closed the door I realized that there was no locks. I felt very uncomfortable knowing that someone can just open the door. Well... Of course, it's a hospital. For mental people. People with some serious issues. If they would have locks, someone could lock himself and try to kill by trying to strangle himself with a toilet paper. Maybe it seems to be like I've watched too many psycho films and stuff, but I'm just considering what other people can do, even though it seems ridiculous.
I walked back to my room. Dr Wilford was already waiting for me. I closed the door behind me and sat down on one of the chairs near to the window.
'Can you tell me what the heck am I doing in here?! I'm not fucking mental.' - I shouted.
'You don't need to shout or swear. Just calm down, Jane. There's nothing to worry about.' - he tried to calm me down and it worked.
'I'm sorry...' - I started.
'It's okay. Do you remember what happened last night?' - he asked looking straight into my eyes.
'No.' - I looked away.
'You tried to commit suicide. Your mother called the ambulance. You were for few hours in the hospital, but then they called us. Your mother agreed to take you away to mental hospital.' - he explained.
I didn't say a word. I started to remember what happened that night. I didn't wanted to talk about it and I think that he noticed it. He changed the subject and started to talk about the set of rules that I have to obey. When he finished, he just walked out.
  • awatar Cynamonowe Love . ♥: Wow, jesteś naprawdę świetna w tym co robisz!:) Prawdziwa artystka! Jestem pod ogromnym wrażaniem.
Dodaj komentarz ›/ Pokaż wszystkie (1) ›
 

openminded
 
Hazel said that she needs to go. She didn't explain where or why and I didn't ask. She left her pillow on the side of the bed. I wondered where she got it from. I sat on the bed and looked at the pillow. Something was written on it, but writing was too small for me too read it. "Mum" was the only word that I could read from the sentence on the pillow, so it's probably from her mum.
I went out of the room and my purpose was to find toilet as I desperately needed a wee. I walked out of the room and closed the door. When I turned around, I bumped into someone. It was Dr Wilford.
'Oh, hello Jane.' - he started - 'I was just going to see you. I want to talk you about what happened last night and how long will you have to stay, but also about the general rules in here.'
'Okay, but can you tell me where are the toilets?' - I asked nervously.
'Firstly turn left, go straight ahead and then turn right. You'll find yellow doors with...' - he explained.
'Thank you.' - I interrupted.
I know that it's rude to interrupt, especially older people than me, but I really needed a toilet.
The hospital was full of different long corridors, rooms and doors, but luckily the way to toilets wasn't too complicated. When I closed the door I realized that there was no locks. I felt very uncomfortable knowing that someone can just open the door. Well... Of course, it's a hospital. For mental people. People with some serious issues. If they would have locks, someone could lock himself and try to kill by trying to strangle himself with a toilet paper. Maybe it seems to be like I've watched too many psycho films and stuff, but I'm just considering what other people can do, even though it seems ridiculous.
I walked back to my room. Dr Wilford was already waiting for me. I closed the door behind me and sat down on one of the chairs near to the window.
'Can you tell me what the heck am I doing in here?! I'm not fucking mental.' - I shouted.
'You don't need to shout or swear. Just calm down, Jane. There's nothing to worry about.' - he tried to calm me down and it worked.
'I'm sorry...' - I started.
'It's okay. Do you remember what happened last night?' - he asked looking straight into my eyes.
'No.' - I looked away.
'You tried to commit suicide. Your mother called the ambulance. You were for few hours in the hospital, but then they called us. Your mother agreed to take you away to mental hospital.' - he explained.
I didn't say a word. I started to remember what happened that night. I didn't wanted to talk about it and I think that he noticed it. He changed the subject and started to talk about the set of rules that I have to obey. When he finished, he just walked out.
 

openminded
 
I looked out of the double-glass window with steel bars. The weather was actually quite nice. Everything outside was full of life. There was a large garden too. Colourful flowers, new benches, but no people.
Someone knocked on my door, but this time waited for me to answer. It was Hazel. She was holding an orange pillow and said that she's moving to my room, because she's scared to be on her own. I felt quite special. I've been here for just an hour or so and I already made a friend.
'How you doing? Do you like it here?' - she asked as she put the pillow down on one of the beds and sat down on the bed she clearly declared as hers.
'Well... It's not bad.' - I answered hesitantly.
'You're lying. You hate this place. You just want to escape from here, but you know that it's impossible, so you just try to get used to this place.' - she summarized.
'How did you know?' - I asked.
'Because it's obvious. No one likes this place. It would be weird if someone did.' - she ended.
She was probably right. How can you even like this place? It's horrible. I shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, but this time I just had to, because how can this place be good, when it looks like a prison? Prisons are always awful.
 

openminded
 
Dr Wilford left me and closed the door. After few minutes someone knocked and opened the door even though I didn't say that they can come in. There was a man with a huge amount of keys hanging down his neck, he was holding two small suitcases. And they were mine of course. I decided to unpack them to make my room more cheerful.
I unpacked everything, but it didn't make me any more happy. I still felt like a prisoner and I still didn't knew why I'm in here.
  • awatar Fata Virida: Napiszesz kiedyś coś dłuższego?
  • awatar artystka drugiej klasy: @Fata Virida: Kiedyś na pewno. Nie wiem kiedy. Jeśli będę miała o czym pisać to napiszę coś dłuższego. Póki co są to pojedyncze fragmenty wyrwane z mojej głowy.
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openminded
 
The room was cold and dull. Nothing was in there, apart from two empty beds with a grey bedding... And a lonely wardrobe standing in the corner on it's own. And a lonely wardrobe standing in the corner on it's own. I decided to open it - who knows, I may find something interesting in there. I was wrong. It was full of dust and spider webs. It wasn't full of colourful clothes or anything. In fact, it was really difficult to find something with a colour in this hospital. Even people's faces were lacking in colour. My room was really small. I didn't think that anyone shares a room with me, but why are there two beds instead of just one?
 

openminded
 
I smiled and that was how I ended our conversation. I had nothing else to say, so I thought that shutting up was the best idea. I wandered around the hospital, looking for a way out. I wanted to run away, but Hazel was probably right. I can't run away from here. After a while I got lost.
'Jane? Is that you?' - I heard a voice, but I didn't know where it's coming from.
'Yes...?' - I asked anxiously.
'What are you doing in here?' - there was a man in a white apron. He was really tall and handsome, I must say and quite young. He was asking me very politely.
'I... I got lost.' - I felt really uncertain about every word I said.
'You shouldn't wander off in the first place.' - he started with a serious tone - 'Anyway, I'm Doctor Wilford, your psychiatrist.' - he added more positively.
'My... My... WHAT?' - I shouted.
'Your psychiatrist. Psychiatrist is a person that helps other people with their problems and I'm here to help you.' - said the psychiatrist.
I didn't said a word. Dr Wilford walked me back to my room.
 

openminded
 
She was young, but very pretty. Her skin was as pale and white as the walls in here. Her hair had a dark chocolate shade, exactly like her eyes.
'What's your name?' - I finally asked.
'Hazel.' - she whispered.
'My name is Jane. I was just thinking about what I'm doing in here. As I can see, there's a lot of insane people, so I was wondering what...' - I tried to finish.
'...You're one of us now.' - she interrupted with a little smile, but she was still very... creepy if there's a word to describe her.
'Us?' - I asked.
'Yes, us. You know, the "insane people"' - she laughed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
 

openminded
 
...How the fuck did I ended up in a fucking mental hospital?! With all of these people in white aprons and all the ones that are mentally ill. Schizophrenic, anorexic, bulimic, self-harming, depressed, suicidal... All kinds... And what am I doing in here? It's not like I'm ill or something. And what should I do now? Run? Or stay?
'You can't run from here' - there was a girl, stood right behind me. She had this innocent look on her face. She looked as she was about 12, maybe 13.
'What do you mean?' - I turned around and asked.
'Well... There's no way out of this place. Being here is just like being in a cage. People stare at you all the time. They control everything you do and you must do everything they ask you to. Kind of a prison.' - she talked quietly as she was scared that someone was listening from behind.
  • awatar Fata Virida: Skąd pochodzi ten fragment?
  • awatar artystka drugiej klasy: @Fata Virida: W sumie znikąd. Jest to raczej efekt mojej nudy i nauki angielskiego. W końcu mieszkając w Anglii trzeba trochę szlifować język.
  • awatar Fata Virida: Zmylił mnie cudzysłów. No, ale mógłby to spokojnie być fragment powieści.
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ebook-klasyka
 
Autor: John Ruskin  

John Ruskin (ur. 8 lutego 1819 w Londynie, zm. 20 stycznia 1900 w Brantwood) był angielskim pisarzem, poetą i artystą, jednak najbardziej znany jest jako krytyk sztuki i krytyk społeczny.

czytajnas.nextore.pl/(…)malarstwo_i_poezya_p14707.x…
 

whintery
 
ReallyMore:

Wpis tylko dla użytkowników pinger.pl

 

whintery
 
ReallyMore:

Wpis tylko dla użytkowników pinger.pl

 

caltha
 
Last night my sister and I were sitting in the den and I said to her,

'I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle to keep me alive. That would be no quality of life at all, if that ever happens, just pull the plug.

So, she got up.

Unplugged the computer, and threw out my wine.

She's such a bitch.

from stupidsticks.com/(…)yaf_postsm243_A-Living-Will.asp…
 

caltha
 
I am in love - and, my God, it is the greatest thing that can happen to a man. I tell you, find a woman you can fall in love with. Do it. Let yourself fall in love. If you have not done so already, you are wasting your life.

- D.H. Lawrence
  • awatar Jak dziki jeleń: Aj em. :) Aj em in low łid Ju. :) :*
  • awatar Caltha: @Wiadro z Uchem: słiiiiit ^^ :*
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caltha
 
Poszukawszy w sieci, dotarłam do turystycznego bloga dziewczyny, którą poznałam jakieś 2 tygodnie temu. Studentka Erasmusa, podróżniczka jakich mało :) kilka jej wpisów dotyczyło Polski, a jakże, ponieważ i tutaj się zabłąkała w wojażach. Pisze bardzo fajnie, oczywiście po angielsku - żeby było międzynarodowo. Dawno się tak nie śmiałam :) Może nie ma między nami AŻ TAKICH różnic kulturowych, bo też jest słowianką, ale są pewne niuanse... Które rozbawiły mnie niemal do łez :)

- In Poland they name block of flat architectural styles by the prime ministers at the time of building.
- W Polsce nazywa się style architektoniczne bloków imionami premierów, za których czasów były budowane (jak sądzę chodziło o "zabudowę jak za Gierka". Dobrze, że nie nazywamy ich tak jak ministrów edukacji :])

Oczywiście, pisownia takich słów jak pączki czy naleśniki, także :) Pouczające :)

Jak ktoś chce zajrzeć to:
www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Darameja/
 

caltha
 
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a
nearby table.

My wife asked, ‘Do you know her?’

‘Yes,’ I sighed, ‘She’s my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear she
hasn’t been sober since.’

‘My God!’ says my wife, ‘who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?’

And then the fight started…
  • awatar Indira: Z wewnętrznej sieci akademickiej Politechniki Warszawskiej :) To sześć gb ale jeśli chcesz to mogę spróbować Ci przesłać:)
  • awatar Caltha: @Indira: obawiam się, że nie do końca mam jak to przejąć... :] bo co, przez pocztę e-mail? x]
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caltha
 
An elderly couple were celebrating their sixtieth anniversary. They had married as childhood sweethearts and had moved back to their old neighborhood after they retired. Holding hands they walked to their old school. It was not locked, so they entered, and found the desk they’d shared, where Andy had carved I love you, Sally.

On their way back home, a bag of money fell out of an armored car, practically landing at their feet. Sally quickly picked it up, but not sure what to do with it, they took it home. There, she counted the money. Fifty-thousand dollars.
Andy said, we’ve got to give it back.
Sally said, finders keepers.

She put the money back in the bag and hid it in their attic.
The next day, two FBI men were canvassing the neighborhood looking for the money, and knocked on the door. They ask: "Did either of you find a bag that fell out of an armored car yesterday?"

Sally said, "No."
Andy said, "She’s lying. She hid it up in the attic."
Sally said, "Don’t believe him, he’s getting senile."

The agents turn to Andy and began to question him. One says:

“Tell us the story from the beginning.”


Andy said, "Well, when Sally and I were walking home from school yesterday . . "

The FBI guy turns to his partner and says, "We’re outta here."

link do źródła: www.inbetweenmeals.com/(…)no-one-believes-old-peopl…
  • awatar malenka398: a ja wlasnie nie przepadam za salatkami warzywnymi.. najwyzej ogorek albo pekinska, ale chyba bede zmuszona je polubic... Noo ja o takim cialku jak ze zdjecia nawet nie marze(chociaz to komputera zaslugi) ale tak na zachete takie fotki dzialaja niezle ;)
  • awatar malenka398: pewnie masz racje, co do salaty, to nawet dobra jest lodowa, do salatki :) wiec moze sie jakos przejde na "smak warzywny" :) wiem, ze te idealne ksztalty z gazet nie istnieja, ale taki plaski brzuszek to taki moze troche realny ;)
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