Sentences with phrase «breaking glasses until»

He began throwing things, breaking glasses until he was exhausted.

Not exact matches

Break up into chunks and smaller pieces and serve immediately or store in a sealed glass container at room temperature until ready to serve.

Muddle mint sprigs, turmeric, ginger, fennel seeds, and cayenne in a 4 - cup measuring glass until turmeric and ginger are broken up into bits.

Earth Mama products were originally packaged in glass, until we got reports of breakage, and found out a woman was cut opening a jar of Organic Nipple Butter that had broken in transit.

Leaders like Hillary Clinton who has the guts and the grace to keep coming back and putting those cracks in that highest and hardest glass ceiling until she finally breaks through, lifting all of us along with her.

Yet, it seems that until a couple of years ago there was no proof that any person had ever broken glass with his or her voice alone.

Even when we were on a very tight budget, I found some quart size mason jars and glass plates / storage containers at a thrift store for food storage and eating and we were able to avoid plastic... and since glass lasts forever (or until a child breaks it!)

Well, at the moment I'm wearing my tortoise glasses, and I did have a tortoise bangle which I've worn everyday for 12 years until it broke last weekend: — LRB - I think a replacement tortoise watch will make me feel better xo

In the kitchen she breaks a glass, and squeezes the shards until her hand bleeds.

This time he woke, but he didn't get up until they both heard a loud bang and a tinkle of breaking glass from the kitchen.

All is well until the clock strikes midnight and Cendre flees before the spell is broken leaving behind one glass slipper.

And I had issues with the stealth until I realised that there's broken glass everywhere, and tin cans and stuff, so if its not just normal concrete, and it's like gravel or something; you're making heaps more noise.

The works include reenactments of Vito Acconci's Seedbed (1972), in which the artist occupied the space under a false floor, masturbating and speaking through a microphone to visitors above; Valie Export's Action Pants: Genital Panic (1969) in which Export walked through a movie theater in crotchless pants, challenging the audience to turn from the images of women on the screen to a real female body; and Abramovic's own Lips of Thomas (1975), in which she ate a kilogram of honey and drank a liter of red wine before breaking her glass with her hand, incising a star in her stomach with a razor blade, whipping herself until she «no longer felt pain,» then lying down on an ice cross while a space heater suspended above her caused her to bleed even more profusely.

This 29 - year - old artist, however, sets out to break his mirrors, starting with a reflective glass pane and pouring hot resin on top until the heat and weight of the goo cracks the surface into jagged lines.

In this famous work, Burden lay on the gallery floor behind a large pane of glass for more than 40 hours with no break or sustenance until MCA employee Dennis O'Shea ended the performance by placing a container of water behind the glass within Burden's reach.

Many people don't realize just how expensive broken glass can be to replace until they are stuck paying for the replacement costs from out of pocket savings.

Let sit until cool enough not to break blender glass.

My deck won't be ready until early May but I am very anxious to set it up because my glass dining table broke from all the snow this winter and I had to purchase a new one!

I had her hung in my kitchen for a long time until I was taking it down to decorate the kitchen for Christmas and broke the convex glass.

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.