Cameron Diaz tomato diet

Cameron Diaz do diet with tomato. She solutions her breakfast and snacks with tomato. The tomato solutions her belly’s fatness and she continues eat until she is full. The tomato solution she says is great. The tomato has very less calories than we can eat! So Cameron Diaz can do healthy diet with tomato. So can we. We can make our body like Cameron Diaz! // 6th-year student

Tomato solutions and water solutions. If you are hesitant to take a wee, a pee, or a sprinkle-tinkle, you can just press the handy Water Sound button in your toilet stall. Whoosh, whoosh, drain // Whoosh, whoosh, drain on the mini-speakers. Discreet relief. Proceed to the sink, lather and rinse with beanu-on-a-rope. Place your hands inside the jet-engine airdryers. Watch the skin ripple over your knuckles and your bird-bone metacarpals, under mean red neon. You are now refreshed, sanitized, and dried.

More water sounds. Jimjilban, the Korean bath house. First impressions are vague after a night in Itaewon, drops streaming down the sweat-lodge window panes, I’m sitting on a tree stump in a stone cavern. There are three of us, unsure of protocol. Arms are crossed, sure, fine. And sweat starts to roll slowly down my back. I can feel the rivulets. NO DRUNKEN. The scene blurs as the timer, set on just 5-6 minutes, runs out. Time for the cold pools, alternating with the hot pools. Back to the showers once more, before returning to the locker room where dramas play out overhead. Everything is illuminated (under bright fluorescent lights).

The second trip to jimjilban involves a Korean-style scrub, and a lioness ajumma with scouring-mitts for giant, unwieldy paws. Scrubbed, mauled, here and there. Most everywhere. In a violent, circular motion. Scrub, suds, scrub again. It’s not comfortable, but it’s supposed to be a healthy practice. Elbow-blows between the shoulders and down the spine, crick, crick. A steaming rag is laid over your eyes, barley oil rubbed and slapped onto your cheeks, and to finish a bucket of hot water is thrown over you to wash away the grey curls of slough. And you’re new again.

Everything is illuminated (with handheld screens and mobile sets). On the metro to work, a soap to my left on a thumbnail portal and audio winding up to the ear. Small children flipping open cells, Umma? Maximize the box, throw it over your head to the skyline of Gangnam, and orchestrate Samsung and Maxwell House advertisements. The new Hyundai vehicle, panned from all angles. A glut of visual stimuli to overcome the rest of your senses, short-fusing your memory of the last hour, the last afternoon, the last day.

Guro Digital Tan-jee. Lady Hof, ajumma / ajoshi hofs distinct with their Day-Glo plastic tulip gardens and gaudy lattice. Stationed at the window with a beer and anjou, puffed crisps of barley, or maybe corn. The proprietor’s daughter at the register, bored, refills moulle. The lights fade-out from blue to nauseous lavender, and back again. Students and businessmen walk by, slowly, with heads down. There are ladies smoking cigarettes in this place – not a usual sight in public. Peppery fried chicken, the typical beer snack here, goes to the next table. The scene looks like this every night of the week.

Say hi to the ancient ruins of Greece

and stop by our home furnishings expo.

Soosoobaby, soon soon
Soosoobaby, soon soon
I will march myself back home,
I’ll be better off alone,
Sixteen days are not enough,
Kids in caps, coyotes are