If the Cincinnati Reds were really the first major league baseball team, who did they play?
I have a gajillion headbands - yellows, pinks, reds, blues. I'm obsessed.
Social Democracy preached against capitalism for half a century. After the November revolution the Reds had the opportunity to direct capitalism into the proper paths: but nothing happened!
Hurrah Boys! Let's get these last few reds then head on back to camp. Hurrah!
The translation process becomes a highly subjective thing - turning reds and blues into black-and-whiteness. It's really bizarre for me.
Colours change: in the morning light, red shines out bright and clear and the blues merge into their surroundings, melting into the greens; but by the evening the reds loose their piquancy, embracing a quieter tone and shifting toward the blues in the rainbow. Yellow flowers remain bright, and white ones become luminous, shining like ghostly figures against a darkening green background.
Socialism destroys everywhere one thing - diversity. Everything is supposed to be best, and as we know, best things are always in shortage. I remind once more that for reds "best" is what they consider "best" for us, and not what we like.
You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Put tattoos all up and down our thighs, do anything our parents would despise. Take uppers, downers, blues, and reds and yellows, our brains are turning into jello.
The mean reds are horrible. You're afraid and you sweat like hell, but you don't know what you're afraid of. Except something bad is going to happen, only you don't know what it is.
