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Отзывы игроков о букмекерской конторе 1win. Все сути упоминания в бонусах. Все сути. Бонусных игр практически нет. Слоты играют как будто так, что в каждом из их словил х каждый день, т. За все время ни разу даже х не словил. Пока не выявлено С первым выводом покажутся непременно Сделал депозит для теста, выиграл маленькую сумму. Для проверки вывода дай думаю поставлю выводится. Вывод отменяется, по телефону молвят одно, в чате пишут вообщем другое. Не желаете головника, проходите мимо данной нам конторы Контора средства не выводит.
Отлично огромную сумму не внёс…. Отзыв: 1Win - В 1win реально вывести средства Достоинства: Средства вывел, ставки топ Недостатки: нет Плюс 1 win в адекватности администраторов веб-сайта и это настоящая контора, которая дозволяет вывести деньги! Я проверил на для себя. С января перебежал на 1win, из-за траблов с иной конторой, в которой средства поднять было просто, а вывести их, пади потрудись попробуй. Входил на веб-сайт через это зеркало: 1 win за первую недельку поднял на ставках 15 тыщ, 5 закинул на авиатор, 3 слил и на остаток поставил все на рандомную X ставку, плюс Время использования: 1 месяцев Стоимость: руб.
Общее впечатление: В 1win реально вывести средства Рекомендую друзьям: Да. Нет Сплошные минусы. Сделал пополнение через карту укащал точную сумму и номер карты для зачисления но средства не пришли на дерозит. Написал в службу поддержки , ответ шаблон, ждите мы выслали запрос в платежную систему, как тоько ответят мы решим данный вопросец.
В общем средства тютю. Просто внаглую украли средства не зачислив их на счет и живут расслабленно. Желаете делать ставк, найдите контору по серьезней. А так вы даже не успеете все спустить, как у вас уже средства украдут. Sultan Baryshnikov. Все хороший день! За месяц ни рубля не отдал вывести , повсевременно в ожидании. Зато как пополнить лицевой счет так это две секунды. Тех поддержка ужасная! In the south time seemed ancient; as though clocks no longer worked because what they mark had become too heavy.
In Texas time had no measure at all. Once again, the size of the spaces defied time. It was hard to gauge distances let alone the time to reach them. In California time is everywhere and measures everything and is ever-increasing in speed. That may be more the case for those who have made our lives here. I would be curious to see what you sense since you have been here. Learning This trip was highly reflective. I recall our conversations and the way they have shaped my thinking.
We talked about morality, history, ethics and a host of silly topics. When I distill it down I am left with this thought. I remain convinced of the rightness of doing the things that I must do though I may not always want to. Obligations made should be honored and assistance to those who have less should be a priority. But I am now fully convinced, because of you, that those things that society and outside sources say I am not supposed to do should be explored and in many cases embraced.
From the mundane tattoos to the exotic I must live a life of exploration, experimentation, experience and exuberance. One last thought. I usually read before going to sleep. On nights where sleep is elusive I sometimes mentally climb into the story I am reading and join it. I am quickly asleep.
I climbed into this road trip but I am not sure I have climbed back out. We should all go on long road trips with good friends because they lead to new life discoveries. I loved our time together and love it even more now. Thank you for continually opening my eyes.
A day off the road in Vegas was just what we needed. It gave us space and time to catch our breath and relax. Breakfast at the buffet where you rejected the bacon , a few hours by the pool, some work for each of us, and a little reading reenergized each of us. We closed the day with a night on the town including dinner and drinks and a long walk along the strip looking at shiny, stupidly expensive, things.
A number of people looked at us in strange ways which I did not like. But my favorite part of the night was spending time together in the sports bar sipping gin drinks and editing your med school secondary essay. In fact, participating in your writing process has been a favorite part of the whole trip.
Last week you said our brains are aligned. We have a terribly unique relationship and when we talk about ideas, form and structure we settle into something that leverages our strengths, builds on our shared Exeter experiences, and is at once close, personal and innocent. It is not something to be pointed at by stupid and assuming people.
Nobody asks about us in these moments. On our last morning in Vegas we went to the breakfast buffet again and then I got a tattoo; something I have been talking about for years. We hit the road to Bakersfield. Amongst the myriad things that I learned on this trip is your deep connection to country music. You did not know that Bakersfield had its own history with country music centered around Buck Owens and later Dwight Yoakam. We found a cheap hotel right next door.
The SureStay has lovely people running it and a beautiful pool and garden. The facilities were interesting. The plumbing was also unique. My room had three thin streams of water coming out of the sink. I did not try the shower. You had no hot water at the sink and you did not want to talk about the shower.
I did not dance, but you did even when you were not on the dance floor. The band was great and was having a lot of fun; they told some painfully corny jokes. We returned to the dive bar for more beer. Katie, the bartender, made change so we could play pool again.
You were in continual motion. Then it was bedtime. I had a good feeling about pulling off into Lafayette. It was our first stop that was truly spontaneous. Bold words. Even for the bad, you got to have gratitude. Walking around downtown in hunt of the Blue Moon, Lafayette began to grow on me even more. The French influence there is apparent. All of the signage included French translations, and some buildings had names only in French.
The friendly, happy locals opened my heart to Lafayette, but it was upon finding the Blue Moon that I felt I could really stick around for a while. This trip generally has confirmed for me how much I love small towns. Even though we saw it in the early afternoon, at a time when it was empty, it was easy to imagine the outdoor bar area rollicking, guests fraternizing with locals, music moving through them all.
They have a Cajun music night every Thursday — longing pulled at my heart, knowing we would miss it. There is something about a routine weekly social event that I gravitate towards. The Cheers theme song always was my favorite:. What makes your heart race? What wounds do you carry, invisible to the eye? No better contrast to a small town than Houston. The skyscrapers and city blocks were so huge, I felt like we had been shrunk. Maybe it was due to the heat, but the streets seemed empty too.
Except homelessness was rampant, and some of the most aggressive I have witnessed. Of all the people out walking, I rarely noticed any women among them. I had hoped to run in the early morning but I lacked the emotional energy. Out in the suburbs, the art was fantastic. I was pleased to learn Cy was a fan of Rilke and Rumi — knowing those were his influences, the lens with which I viewed his work re-focused.
The experience was oddly cleansing. I wish all museums could be illuminated with natural lighting. If this was light embodied, the Rothko Chapel was shadow. It was like walking into a cave, cool and humming with a pointed energy. There were pews and cushions for meditating before the giant dark blue and black purple canvases. There was power there, and it had a darkness to it. I wondered if I was misreading the room, but out in the light again, you reported similar feelings.
Maybe whatever we tapped into there is too ancient to be good or evil. What a gift to the public. I remember saying to you how much I would love to live in a house that was a block from an art museum. But now I think about it again and I wonder… does its placement in a residential neighborhood, as opposed to downtown Houston, serve as a different kind of access barrier? The Menil Collection and associated exhibits are only 4 miles from our hotel downtown, where the man in the tan suit jacket followed me inside CVS and asked if I would buy him a box of granola bars.
One of the best parts of traveling with you is that I am now asking questions I never would have thought to ask. Maybe it is too presumptuous to say, but I think sometimes I can even glimpse the world, as an architect would see it. I feel I have to explain myself. There was something precious in Junction that I became reluctant to disturb. Compared to New Orleans and Lafayette, Junction was a different kind of friendly. I sensed the people of Junction were deeply loyal to their own.
This made me feel somewhat of a fraud. As travelers, we were only capable of offering Junction the equivalent of a one-night stand. The rodeo and the dance was for the purpose of their community coming to reconnect with each other after the day. All the restaurants closed up at pm and everyone was either home with their families, or at the dance. It was a sacred space and I would have been ashamed to interrupt.
Last night, I dreamt about a pregnant black woman. She was beautiful. From the shape of her belly, she looked to be in her third trimester. She was taller than me, younger than me. We were waiting at the same bus stop. Blood began to appear in circles by her ankles. I helped her to the ground. I pulled out my phone to dial but my fingers kept fumbling the numbers.
She wondered aloud if it was her period. I was unsure if she realized she was pregnant. Or afraid. I told her it would be okay. But maybe, eventually, it would be okay for her. With no guarantees, I said it anyway. There is power in words, power in prayer. Sometimes I wonder if it is the sound waves themselves, changing the frequency of the waters that run through us.
New Orleans was blurred — we barely had time to soak in anything but the surface. Like that one charismatic con who you know is spouting bull, but you let it slide, because boy, you sure like the way he talks. No party would be complete without him.
Or her. New Orleans personified is probably both man and woman: a true shape shifter. On one side, New Orleans is purple lights, trumpets, teetering leering tourists, and a beautiful haunted hotel that smells of the ghosts of old floods. She turns and shows another face; floor-to-ceiling windows, a backyard that doubles as a fire station. And in a moment of transparency, he reveals a third side, comprised of uber drivers. See, there, is a police station right next door. And James, who picked us up from breakfast at the Ruby Slipper.
Colonialism and then the slave trade brought many varied cultural influences into the city; no single one dominates. Yeah, man, New Orleans, whoo. During Katrina, they were still partying on Bourbon Street. But by the end, the question may no longer matter. You owe me no explanations. Yes, I have learned more about you on this trip. I did not know you got cold easily. I did know that you wake early but I did not know that mornings need to either start with exercise or with quiet.
I learned that you love pools but, while in them, you want to be off on your own, reflecting. My mirth over our driver changing ritual has only grown. Fans are turned up or down, temperature up or down, vents open or closed. It is part of the process — our routine. I was thrilled that you asked me to join you on this trip. I knew that getting into a car for 8 days with anyone is a risk. But we are extraordinary friends and I knew it would be something special.
It has been. One of the things you have taught me is the clarifying power of writing. I was resistant to the idea of daily blogs or near daily because I find writing hard. But it has been useful to reflect during the day on themes and ideas for evening elaboration. The writing has put things in greater focus and made the experiences more alive. The road has been great but has meant long days. Santa Fe was our goal after Marfa.
I took the first shift at the wheel while you slept. I was a little worried. We were quieter that day and our conversations less involved. I know now that we were getting tired. It took nearly eight hours to reach Santa Fe; the landscape changed with each hour. There were cathedral shaped mountains with large white clouds lounging on them.
There were vast empty mountain-protected valleys where I just wanted to stop the car and stand in the sun. There were wide open spaces with a sky so high and clear that the clouds clearly hovered in their wind selected layers. The temperature and humidity dropped; the rain passed.
When we reached Santa Fe we were more than tired. I think the trip could have gone in a few different ways that evening. But we discussed our feelings, acknowledged our weariness and decided over dinner to Harkness our way into something better. Our original goal had been to get to the Grand Canyon the next day and Vegas the day after.
Accommodations in the GC area were slight. All of our scenarios had Vegas as the real goal. We needed to sit by a pool. I suggested that we bypass the GC and take a long day to Vegas and spend two nights or more accurately one day not in the car there. We played out the pros and cons but decided to get to Vegas. That decision was reinvigorating in and of itself. And like every other whim, change in plans or found experience we chose to accept, it played out in serendipitous ways.
The road to Vegas went fast, the time shifts played into our desire to jump in the pool before it closed. We talked a lot and played a lot of new music. The landscapes once again changed with every hour; the thunderstorms sat off to the south.
We were no longer weary. Viva Las Vegas played again as the Vegas skyline approached. We checked in to our rooms, changed and headed to the pool. The trip has been wonderful. At the moment it might have gone sideways we fixed it. Like excellent and extraordinary friends. We began Friday in Houston with breakfast downtown and a swim in the hotel pool and then headed to the Menil Collection.
On our way I began to see the famed Houston planning in action.
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