Дата публикации: 2017-11-14 19:59
Look, I’m not going to sugar coat this: There was no good thing about any of my miscarriages. And most people didn’t have any good things to say about it either, like, “At least you can get pregnant.” (Thanks a lot).
Larissa, the self-appointed bookkeeper who just happens to be gorgeous, explains she was motivated to jump in when seeing her parents struggle, and "it was such a mess," as she was "trying to teach myself."
She drives an hour each way to work. "I don't know why I made everyone's problems my problems, but." she says.
Yet, social media and the reader comments section of this article indicate viewers noticed Larissa owns a Louis Vuitton bag, an accessory that escaped the eyes of Lemonis. We don't know what a Vuitton bag looks like, but it's safe to say it must be at least one of these two:
Just like the invite to the hair-salon guy for lunch with the Erika Cole gal, Lemonis smartly brings Mark to Modern Candle, where he knows either friction or hugs will result.
Mark's not into hugging, so it's the former, in a rehash with Armik of the 75/75 palm/soy blend that apparently wasn't (but Mark never sent the order back, apparently).
Making excuses, Lemonis decides, "You know what I think the problem is? He doesn't want to give up control of making candles."
Then, Lemonis can diagnose Mark as being "a little defensive" when really it's "offensive" in this situation.
Actually, Mark just isn't a fan of Armik.
Note that when a deal is made, Mark is sorta sitting out the handshake portion.
“I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat,” my doctor said to me. She didn’t sound very sorry, leaving the room so quickly—ostensibly so I could pull up my underwear—that she couldn’t hear me burst out in tears.
"Triangles, circles, cohorts in crime," whatever, viewers realize long before Lemonis that absolutely neither owner at West End is interested in doing anything.
Lemonis says at the beginning, "If I can just get John and Becky to put their claws away and act as a team, we'll be making money in no time," a possibility veteran viewers have no reason to believe will actually occur.
Lemonis at one point insists, "I'm not gonna do this. Play these games," but he plays games like this in about half the episodes.
Becky and John are incapable of roasting, selling or cleaning.
Think of how silly the folks at Larkin's (below) must feel when Lemonis hilariously assures them with a straight face, "We'll overservice the account."
Boston Dynamics, the company that builds this incredible robot, recently gave a presentation at the Congress of Future Science and Technology Leaders. It was a pretty normal dog-and-pony show for the company. ATLAS walked around the stage autonomously, while a human guided SpotMini the dogbot across the stage with a controller.
But again, how can we be mad at ATLAS? This robot is a true feat of human engineering and ingenuity. Armies of them might even fight wars for us one day. Which brings us back to that Terminator reference. We’re probably doomed to die at the feet of ATLAS in the inevitable robot uprising, so we might as well get our yuks in now.
The site is no longer used for dumping. A golf course and a BMW track were built on top years ago. But that’s not the same as proposing that 6,685 units of housing be approved for people to live in full time. Toxic vapors, dangerous gasses, and ground water contamination are all issues that have to be accounted for.
It seems like he should be succeeding, but packaged foods doesn't feel like quite the right fit. Lemonis knocks Leander's high-testosterone marketing. But on some level, this approach works, including with women. (That does not mean this page is endorsing it.) Lemonis halfheartedly is trying to convince Leander to sell this Ultimate Fighting-scene product to the symphony orchestra crowd.
"I am really relieved that my check didn't get cashed," Lemonis says, even though he prevented it from being cashed.
Lemonis could've spared Leander and the employees and the viewers their time with the most basic due diligence yes, with a Google search. The simplest research would've revealed the legal entanglement of FuelFood. He needed an episode, so we got one.
If all goes to plan you could be living on top of a City Park Starbucks—with totally safe drinking water that definitely isn’t going to explode—within 5-7 years.