Sentences with phrase «body of age spots»

It can also help rid the body of age spots.

Not exact matches

Compounded with its abilities to flush the body of toxins, it can actually help slow the aging process and maintain healthy, youthful skin (think fewer dark spots, fine lines, and wrinkles), eyes, joints, and muscles.

Wrinkles, age spots, and varicose veins become problems of the past as the body repairs itself from the inside out.

My skin suddenly changed at the age of 17 — I felt like overnight my skin went from clear to full of spots and my body started changing at the same time!

If you have age spots on multiple areas of your body, run a warm bath and add 1/2 cup of lemon juice.

Condition: Dry flaky skin on the body or face, also for those who would like to reduce the appearance of age spots and scars.

Adding a slick contempo sheen to the Texas Chain Saw Massacre template (thereby ignoring the grimy, low - budget look that made that 1974 classic so disturbing), this finds two college - age siblings (well - played by Gina Philips and Justin Long), stranded in the middle of Nowhere, USA, stopping to investigate when they spot a menacing figure dropping bodies down a pipe (their reasons for not calling the police are witless even beyond the low - ebb demands of the slasher genre).

Unfortunately, the dog - years conundrum turns him into a middle - aged sleazebag with a potbelly and Dan Hedaya's body hair — a fact grotesque enough in and of itself that's compounded by Spot not changing out of his little boy's clothes for the first few minutes of his transformation.

The SE model doesn't look as dated as most 13 year old cars and the body has aged well with one minor rust spot the size of a nickle I fixed myself.

«Civil Progress: Life in Black America,» Greg Kucera Gallery, Seattle, WA, February 6 — March 30, 1997 «Blind Spot: Coming of Age,» White Columns, New York, NY, May 8 — 29, 1997 «Kimchi Xtravaganza,» Korean American Museum, Los Angeles, CA, June 16, 1997 — January 10, 1998; catalogue «The Dual Muse: The Writer As Artist, The Artist As Writer,» Washington University Gallery of Art, St Louis, MO, November 7 — December 21, 1997; catalogue «Thirty - Third Annual Exhibition of Art on Paper,» Weatherspoon Art Gallery, The University of North Carolina at Greensboro, Greensboro, NC, November 16, 1997 — January 18, 1998; catalogue «Heart, Mind, Body, Soul: American Art in the 1990's,» Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, NY, November 26, 1997 — January 4, 1998 «La Biennale di Venezia, XLVII Esposizione Internationale d'Arte,» Venice, Italy, 1997; catalogue «A Decade in Collecting: Recent Acquisitions in Contemporary Drawing,» Museum of Modern Art, New York, NY, 1997 «Coming of Age,» White Columns, New York, NY, 1997 «Identity Crisis: Self Portraiture at the End of the Century,» Milwaukee Art Museum, Milwaukee, WI, 1997; traveled to Aspen Art Museum, Aspen, CO; catalogue «Kinds of Abstract,» Seattle Art Museum, Seattle, WA, 1997 «Rhapsodies in Black,» Hayward Gallery, The South Bank Centre, London, UK, 1997; travels to Arnolfini Gallery, Bristol, UK; The Mead Gallery, Coventry, UK; California Palace of the Legion of Honor, Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, San Francisco, CA; Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.; catalogue «Sunny Days / Critical Times,» The Bohen Foundation, New York, NY, 1997 «Un Bel Ete,» Casino Luxembourg, Luxembourg City, Luxembourg, 1997

It went something like this: hotel check - in, locate room, locate wifi service, attempt connection to wifi, wonder why the connection is taking so long, try again, locate phone, call front desk, get told «the internet is broken for a while», decide to hot - spot the mobile phone because some emails really needed to be sent, go «la la la» about the roaming costs, locate iron, wonder why iron temperature dial just spins around and around, swear as iron spews water instead of steam, find reading glasses, curse middle - aged need for reading glasses, realise iron temperature dial is indecipherably in Chinese, decide ironing front of shirt is good enough when wearing jacket, order room service lunch, start shower, realise can't read impossible small toiletry bottle labels, damply retrieve glasses from near iron and successfully avoid shampooing hair with body lotion, change (into slightly damp shirt), retrieve glasses from shower, start teleconference, eat lunch, remember to mute phone, meet colleague in lobby at 1 pm, continue teleconference, get in taxi, endure 75 stop - start minutes to a inconveniently located client, watch unread emails climb over 150, continue to ignore roaming costs, regret tuna panini lunch choice as taxi warmth, stop - start juddering, jet - lag, guilt about unread emails and traffic fumes combine in a very unpleasant way, stumble out of over-warm taxi and almost catch hypothermia while trying to locate a very small client office in a very large anonymous business park, almost hug client with relief when they appear to escort us the last 50 metres, surprisingly have very positive client meeting (i.e. didn't throw up in the meeting), almost catch hypothermia again waiting for taxi which despite having two functioning GPS devices can't locate us on a main road, understand why as within 30 seconds we are almost rendered unconscious by the in - car exhaust fumes, discover that the taxi ride back to the CBD is even slower and more juddering at peak hour (and no, that was not a carbon monoxide induced hallucination), rescheduled the second client from 5 pm to 5.30, to 6 pm and finally 6.30 pm, killed time by drafting this guest blog (possibly carbon monoxide induced), watch unread emails climb higher, exit taxi and inhale relatively fresher air from kamikaze motor scooters, enter office and grumpily work with client until 9 pm, decline client's gracious offer of expensive dinner, noting it is already midnight my time, observe client fail to correctly set office alarm and endure high decibel «warning, warning» sounds that are clearly designed to send security rushing... soon... any second now... develop new form of nausea and headache from piercing, screeching, sounds - like - a-wailing-baby-please-please-make-it-stop-alarm, note the client is relishing the extra (free) time with us and is still talking about work, admire the client's ability to focus under extreme aural pressure, decide the client may be a little too work focussed, realise that I probably am too given I have just finished work at 9 pm... but then remember the 200 unread emails in my inbox and decide I can resolve that incongruency later (in a quieter space), become sure that there are only two possibilities — there are no security staff or they are deaf — while my colleague frantically tries to call someone who knows what to do, conclude after three calls that no - one does, and then finally someone finally does and... it stops.