paper clip swing arm desk lamp - satin steel


Lite Source

List Price: $156.00

Product Description


Acco 5.75 Inch Banker's Clasps, Stainless Steel, 2 Pack (A7072045B)


Acco

List Price: $2.99
Price: $2.99

Product Details

  • Long-lasting rust-resistant stainless steel construction
  • Cosy-to-slide rounded ends
  • 2-rucksack

Product Description


Virginia Cavaliers Paper Clip Holder


The Memory Company

List Price: $14.99

Product Details

  • Burnished bronze medallion with the together logo in hand painted enamel
  • Spellbinding interior
  • Wood-grained paper sock holder

Product Description


stainless steel paper clip?

can anyone tell me what the metals in a steel paper clip are and the properties. Also the advantages and disadvantages to using that type of metal?


Advantage - stainless steel doesn't rust.
Disadvantage - it doesn't recover from being bent all that well


Look up stainless steel here at
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stainless_steel

Where can I buy (cheap) plastic memo clips that use a ball to hold paper?

Here's an example that works the same way as what I want, using the weight of a ball to hold the paper in, but this is 'fancy' stainless steel, I just want cheap plastic ones.

Ideally I'm looking for clips designed to hang on a cubicle wall, with metal 'hooks' in the back, but I can make magnetic or other styles work.
I've searched online at staples.com, officemax.com, amazon.com, and haven't found the ball style clips. Most of them have only the spring loaded type, that you squeeze to open and release to let it snap closed.

I'll check with the local staples store, but I'm guessing if their web site doesn't list it, they don't have it.


try staples, or Target....maybe even home depot or ikea

Memo shopping pad/board. WHERE to buy?

I'm looking for a memo stainless steel clip shopping pad/board with a pan holder to put on the wall in the kitchen. That kind where you write you shopping and then you can take that paper with you. I've search the net for hours, but no luck. Would anyone know where to look?


Woolworths or some sort of pound shop

Do you think my story is good enough to get published... honestly?, btw im only 15

Can you read my unfinished story and tell me what you really think. I dont kno if i should finish it or not, i dont know if its really worth it.

Just so people dont get confused, the numbers are pages and things like thump thump and beeps are all sound in the story i just can change the font on here.

Im 15 and i had to write this for school my freshman year. my teacher actually wouldnt grade it because she didnt like the fact that part of it was about sex. But it's called Dear Sherry, and its about a women to watches as her dreams become an awful reality.....



Dear Sherry

As I woke up, I shielded my eyes from the sun that poured through the oak window. My body laid in crisp white sheets as flashbacks rushed through my mind.

"'…Do you want to?'"

"'…I don't know, I don't think we should.'"

"'…We'll be fine, don't worry.'"

I pushed myself up against the bed's backboard and rubbed my temples, I felt nauseas and sore. I climbed out of my warm bed, rapped a bed sheet around my body, and twisted it into a knot above my chest.

Items seemed in disorder as I walked through my loft bedroom. While glancing over the loft, I spotted a folded piece of paper leaning against the vase on the dinner table. I unfolded the paper and began to read the note.

" Dear Sherry,

Thanks for a great night. We should do it again sometime.

Ps. Welcome to the world of AIDS. -Your Infector "

Thump thump, thump thump.

I felt numb, there was something in my throat that I just couldn't

3

swallow. The note dropped to the table, knocking something to the floor. My eyes never wandered to the floor, my heart ached to much to care.

Once again, flashbacks raced through my mind from the begin of the night to the end.

"'…Would you like to dance?'"

"'…Sure, I'd love to.'"

The words, "Your Infector." echoed in my mind. "Tommy? Tom? Tomas? Timmy? Troy?" I repeated to myself trying to remember his name, for the alcohol fogged my memory.

"'…Hi, I'm Tristan.'"

"'…Hey, Nice to meet you. I'm Sherry.'"

I paced around the loft as tears moistened my cheeks. The bed sheet fell to the floor as I walked to the bathroom and started the shower. Immediately, steam filled the tiny plain room and fogged the mirror.

I closed my eyes as the water poured from the showerhead onto my face. "I can wash it away, everything will be alright." I kept repeating these words, trying to fool myself into believing them, even though I knew it wasn't true.

When I was in the shower I felt pure. Turning the knob all the way to the left was the hardest thing to do, my moment of purity was over and I was insecure about everything.

4

I stepped out of the shower; right foot, then left and wiped the mirror clear of fog. While checking my reflection, in the smudged mirror, an unclear figure crept behind me and passed through the door. Puddles of water formed under my feet as I followed the figure through the doorframe.

"Who's there?" I received no answer.

Thump thump, thump thump.

My heart raced. I peeked around the wall, that separated the bathroom from the living room, and held my breathe. The floor crept under my feet as I approached the dark figure.

My hand shook as I reached for the overcoat that covered a body.

One, two, three. Swoosh, the overcoat fell to the ground.

Beep, beep, beep. "Good morning New York City , your listening to W.T.B.A and it's 7:00 Am. It's starting to feel a lot like winter with a temperature of 34° F, time to take those winter jackets out of the clos-"

I slapped my hand on the off button, as the alarm clock fell to the floor. My body jerked up and I scratched my neck gasping for air. Confused and unsure of myself I got out of bed and inspected my loft. I glanced at the vase and to my surprise, there was no note waiting to be read. My eyes wandered around in concern and fear that someone was lingering within my loft.

5

It was 11:00 Am, and I was waiting for the paper boy to drop of my paper. I sat in my overstuffed chair and light filled the room, as I turned the

television on. "Breaking News" flashed on the screen. I tried to listen to the report, but when the young news caster said those words, "The Infector", my heart sank.

Boom, boom, boom. I walked to my door, opened it, and picked up the fresh newspaper. The front page read, "Young women meet their infector."

I ran my hand under my eyes to clear the tears. This can't be happening, I thought. "Was it a sign? Could I have helped them?" I kept asking myself questions that couldn't be answered. I turned off the television, put the newspaper on the dinner table, and ran into my bedroom to change. I pulled a jogging suit out of my bureau and grabbed a pair of Nikes out of the closet. I rushed to put everything on and I ran out the front door. While on the fourth floor, I clicked the auto start for my car and continued jogging down the stairs.

I had to clear my mind, driving into the quiet country would help sooth my shaken nerves. I drove to a familiar place, where my mother and I took daily walks together. We called it The tranquil pond. The little crystal clear pond held an abundant amount of lily pads. Catninetails were sporadically placed around the pond and in the cluster of trees you could hear the baby birds chirping high in their nest as their mothers fed them.

6

This was the one place I could clear my mind and forget about everything. I

laid on the green ground and watched as the puffy white clouds passed by. Some were short and fluffy and other were long and skinny but

every single one look beautiful against the deep blue sky.

The sky turned grey. Within minutes I was once again in a pure moment, with water gently sprinkling my hands and face. It felt bizarre; laying there like a lifeless weed, with it's roots soaking up the water, waiting to bloom into a beautiful flower once again. Memories of my childhood rush through my mind as I walked to my car; with my head still looking to the clouds.

"What would she tell me to do right now?" I pondered

"Mom? Are you up there, Mom? Well if you can hear me I really need you to me help right now! I think I can help these poor women, but the truth is I'm scared. I don't know what to do, I need you Mom, I need you more than ever right now."

I lowered my head and continued walking to my car. The windshield wipers moved left to right in attempt to clear the now torrential rain. On the car ride home all I could think about was my mother. She had been my world from the age of seven, when my father died, till the day of her death. My mother had died from a doctor's misdiagnose. The Doctors kept telling her she suffered from the Flu, but my mother knew she was very sick, and

7

it wasn't the Flu that caused her to become fatigued and receive rashes.

She had AIDS. My mother was a nurse. When she was pricked by a dirty needle she knew it would only be time before she started getting sick. My mother died two years ago, when I was twenty one . Thinking about my mother made me tune out all my surroundings.

The hour ride home, seemed like only fifteen minutes. There were no parking spots on the street. That meant I had to park in the garage, on the side of the apartment building. The garage was dark and humid. A sinister feeling gathered in the steamy air. Footsteps echoed as I walked to the Exit door. My heart began to beat rapidly when I discovered the echoed footsteps were not mine. I glanced over my shoulder and found no one pacing behind me. I turned the corner in front of a Honda and looked into the round mirror that was mounted onto the wall above me. In the mirror I spotted a man clad in black, crawl behind the Honda.

"Who's there?" I shouted demanding an answer, but received none. "I said who's there? Come out I know your behind there."

My heart was in my throat once again. I weaved through the cars, hoping the man would not follow my demands. Footsteps echoed in the garage again. In fear, I dropped to the ground and pulled myself under a large SUV.

"Who's hiding now?" a man shouted, breaking the silence.

8

I kept my head low to the ground, watching the floor to see when his

feet appeared in front of me. I hid, silent, for what seemed forever.

"I know your in here. Come out, come out, wherever you are." There was a brief pause. "Oh Sherry Dear, why don't you be a good little girl and come and play with YOUR INFECTOR!"

A pair of Nikes appeared in front of the SUV and it felt as if my heart had stopped beating. I held my breathe; trying not to make a sound. I watched as the Nikes walked by my hiding spot. Hot air was released in relief. My body laid still, in fear he would come back. His sneakers were nowhere in sight, but I heard the heavy footsteps, pounding on the concrete.

My ankle ached, I looked over my shoulder straight into a set of evil eyes. My skin scraped again the cement, as I was being pulled.

"Please, stop!" I pleaded. "Let me go!"

My foot slammed into the side of his face. The evil man let go of my ankle and held his face as he knelt on the ground. I crawled out from under the car, and began to run away, in fear for my life.

"Who are you?" I sobbed.

"Who am I? You mean you haven't heard of me?

I did not answer the mystery man.

"Sherry, It's me Tristan."

9

I hid behind a pile of boxes next to the elevator. I closed my eyes,

hoping when I opened them, I would awaken from a dream; This never happened. He was close, his scent lingered after he walked by the boxes. He didn't make a sound, which made it harder to tell where he stood.

"Boo." Tristan whispered as he crashed the boxes.

He pulled me away from the wall and did what he pleased.

"Stop please."

I laid there on the cement numb. Not crying and barely breathing. Rolling to my side I attempted to pick myself up. My body was weak, and I fell to the ground. My second try was a success. I walked slowly to the exit door being cautious with every move. As I exited the garage, my eyes grew wet. I collapsed in the middle of sidewalk sobbing uncontrollably.

"Sherry Williams. Sherry, can you hear me?"

I heard a man mumbling but I couldn't make out the words. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked around. I laid on a chilled slab in a room that was filled of pictures from my past, me and my mother at the tranquil pond, my father and I at my sixth birthday, me reading my first book, and tons of other photos I had never seen. There was a large blank screen on the wall in front of me. It looked like a projector screen but there was no projector in the room. As I glanced around I found no windows, and nor doors.

A puff of smoke exited my lips as I spoke softly. "Hello." I whispered . 10

"Where am I? What happened?"

I sat up, and twisted my body to hang my legs over the side of the stainless steal slab. A chill shot up my spine as my bare feet touched the tiled floor. I wrapped my arms in front of me, and my lips quivered. It was cold. Spider veins began to show in my pale legs and arms.

Where was I? I wonder. How did I get here? I paced around the white room, looking at the many pictures. The one that caught my eye was one that I had never seen before. It was of me, my mother and father. I had to of have been about two years old and the three of us were cuddled in my parents bed. It must have been winter, you could see the fluffy white snow that covered the yard through the window, I laid between my mother and father fast asleep. You could see the passion in my parents eyes for each other. My father was gently kissing my mother's forehead as she smiled with glee.

"She's in a comma from the trauma, is there anyone from her family we can call?"

"No doctor, she has no one. Her father died when she was seven and her mother pasted ago two years ago."

"Okay, just keep an eye on her and let me know if there is any improvement. I'll find someone for this poor girl."

"Yes doctor"

11

I heard the mumbling voice again but I could make out his words. I

looked around trying to see where this voice was coming from. I walked over to the blank screen and gently ran my fingers over it. With the touch of my finger tips the blank screen flashed on. It began to play video clips of my childhood. Birthday parties, family reunions, and my fathers funeral. As I watched my fathers funeral I began to wish he was here. Then more I began to think about him, more videos of him played. It seemed as if what I was thinking about was being played on the screen.


Well I read it! I liked it too! Although I don't know about it getting published, it's an interesting read. Only a few spelling errors and if I found this on some online fiction site like www.fictionpress.com I would definitely put it on Story Alert so I could know when the next chapter was out.

Maybe you could post it online instead, so you could get more feedback and actually know what the readers are thinking. (I've noticed that since there are so many random stories (a lot bad) on there, it takes a little time for people to find any of those little gems hidden away. Let your story become a gem!)

Can you read this and give me some advice?

Im 15 and this is a story i wrote for school called Dear Sherry. I really want to finish it and hopefully publish it one day. I would love any advice you can give me. I know there is spell mistakes and what not im working on that now.


Dear Sherry

As I woke up, I shielded my eyes from the sun that poured through the oak window. My body laid in crisp white sheets as flashbacks rushed through my mind.

"'…Do you want to?'"

"'…I don't know, I don't think we should.'"

"'…We'll be fine, don't worry.'"

I pushed myself up against the bed's backboard and rubbed my temples, I felt nauseas and sore. I climbed out of my warm bed, rapped a bed sheet around my body, and twisted it into a knot above my chest.

Items seemed in disorder as I walked through my loft bedroom. While glancing over the loft, I spotted a folded piece of paper leaning against the vase on the dinner table. I unfolded the paper and began to read the note.

" Dear Sherry,

Thanks for a great night. We should do it again sometime.

Ps. Welcome to the world of AIDS. -Your Infector "

Thump thump, thump thump.

I felt numb, there was something in my throat that I just couldn't

3

swallow. The note dropped to the table, knocking something to the floor. My eyes never wandered to the floor, my heart ached to much to care.

Once again, flashbacks raced through my mind from the begin of the night to the end.

"'…Would you like to dance?'"

"'…Sure, I'd love to.'"

The words, "Your Infector." echoed in my mind. "Tommy? Tom? Tomas? Timmy? Troy?" I repeated to myself trying to remember his name, for the alcohol fogged my memory.

"'…Hi, I'm Tristan.'"

"'…Hey, Nice to meet you. I'm Sherry.'"

I paced around the loft as tears moistened my cheeks. The bed sheet fell to the floor as I walked to the bathroom and started the shower. Immediately, steam filled the tiny plain room and fogged the mirror.

I closed my eyes as the water poured from the showerhead onto my face. "I can wash it away, everything will be alright." I kept repeating these words, trying to fool myself into believing them, even though I knew it wasn't true.

When I was in the shower I felt pure. Turning the knob all the way to the left was the hardest thing to do, my moment of purity was over and I was insecure about everything.

4

I stepped out of the shower; right foot, then left and wiped the mirror clear of fog. While checking my reflection, in the smudged mirror, an unclear figure crept behind me and passed through the door. Puddles of water formed under my feet as I followed the figure through the doorframe.

"Who's there?" I received no answer.

Thump thump, thump thump.

My heart raced. I peeked around the wall, that separated the bathroom from the living room, and held my breathe. The floor crept under my feet as I approached the dark figure.

My hand shook as I reached for the overcoat that covered a body.

One, two, three. Swoosh, the overcoat fell to the ground.

Beep, beep, beep. "Good morning New York City , your listening to W.T.B.A and it's 7:00 Am. It's starting to feel a lot like winter with a temperature of 34° F, time to take those winter jackets out of the clos-"

I slapped my hand on the off button, as the alarm clock fell to the floor. My body jerked up and I scratched my neck gasping for air. Confused and unsure of myself I got out of bed and inspected my loft. I glanced at the vase and to my surprise, there was no note waiting to be read. My eyes wandered around in concern and fear that someone was lingering within my loft.

5

It was 11:00 Am, and I was waiting for the paper boy to drop of my paper. I sat in my overstuffed chair and light filled the room, as I turned the

television on. "Breaking News" flashed on the screen. I tried to listen to the report, but when the young news caster said those words, "The Infector", my heart sank.

Boom, boom, boom. I walked to my door, opened it, and picked up the fresh newspaper. The front page read, "Young women meet their infector."

I ran my hand under my eyes to clear the tears. This can't be happening, I thought. "Was it a sign? Could I have helped them?" I kept asking myself questions that couldn't be answered. I turned off the television, put the newspaper on the dinner table, and ran into my bedroom to change. I pulled a jogging suit out of my bureau and grabbed a pair of Nikes out of the closet. I rushed to put everything on and I ran out the front door. While on the fourth floor, I clicked the auto start for my car and continued jogging down the stairs.

I had to clear my mind, driving into the quiet country would help sooth my shaken nerves. I drove to a familiar place, where my mother and I took daily walks together. We called it The tranquil pond. The little crystal clear pond held an abundant amount of lily pads. Catninetails were sporadically placed around the pond and in the cluster of trees you could hear the baby birds chirping high in their nest as their mothers fed them.

6

This was the one place I could clear my mind and forget about everything. I

laid on the green ground and watched as the puffy white clouds passed by. Some were short and fluffy and other were long and skinny but

every single one look beautiful against the deep blue sky.

The sky turned grey. Within minutes I was once again in a pure moment, with water gently sprinkling my hands and face. It felt bizarre; laying there like a lifeless weed, with it's roots soaking up the water, waiting to bloom into a beautiful flower once again. Memories of my childhood rush through my mind as I walked to my car; with my head still looking to the clouds.

"What would she tell me to do right now?" I pondered

"Mom? Are you up there, Mom? Well if you can hear me I really need you to me help right now! I think I can help these poor women, but the truth is I'm scared. I don't know what to do, I need you Mom, I need you more than ever right now."

I lowered my head and continued walking to my car. The windshield wipers moved left to right in attempt to clear the now torrential rain. On the car ride home all I could think about was my mother. She had been my world from the age of seven, when my father died, till the day of her death. My mother had died from a doctor's misdiagnose. The Doctors kept telling her she suffered from the Flu, but my mother knew she was very sick, and

7

it wasn't the Flu that caused her to become fatigued and receive rashes.

She had AIDS. My mother was a nurse. When she was pricked by a dirty needle she knew it would only be time before she started getting sick. My mother died two years ago, when I was twenty one . Thinking about my mother made me tune out all my surroundings.

The hour ride home, seemed like only fifteen minutes. There were no parking spots on the street. That meant I had to park in the garage, on the side of the apartment building. The garage was dark and humid. A sinister feeling gathered in the steamy air. Footsteps echoed as I walked to the Exit door. My heart began to beat rapidly when I discovered the echoed footsteps were not mine. I glanced over my shoulder and found no one pacing behind me. I turned the corner in front of a Honda and looked into the round mirror that was mounted onto the wall above me. In the mirror I spotted a man clad in black, crawl behind the Honda.

"Who's there?" I shouted demanding an answer, but received none. "I said who's there? Come out I know your behind there."

My heart was in my throat once again. I weaved through the cars, hoping the man would not follow my demands. Footsteps echoed in the garage again. In fear, I dropped to the ground and pulled myself under a large SUV.

"Who's hiding now?" a man shouted, breaking the silence.

8

I kept my head low to the ground, watching the floor to see when his

feet appeared in front of me. I hid, silent, for what seemed forever.

"I know your in here. Come out, come out, wherever you are." There was a brief pause. "Oh Sherry Dear, why don't you be a good little girl and come and play with YOUR INFECTOR!"

A pair of Nikes appeared in front of the SUV and it felt as if my heart had stopped beating. I held my breathe; trying not to make a sound. I watched as the Nikes walked by my hiding spot. Hot air was released in relief. My body laid still, in fear he would come back. His sneakers were nowhere in sight, but I heard the heavy footsteps, pounding on the concrete.

My ankle ached, I looked over my shoulder straight into a set of evil eyes. My skin scraped again the cement, as I was being pulled.

"Please, stop!" I pleaded. "Let me go!"

My foot slammed into the side of his face. The evil man let go of my ankle and held his face as he knelt on the ground. I crawled out from under the car, and began to run away, in fear for my life.

"Who are you?" I sobbed.

"Who am I? You mean you haven't heard of me?

I did not answer the mystery man.

"Sherry, It's me Tristan."

9

I hid behind a pile of boxes next to the elevator. I closed my eyes,

hoping when I opened them, I would awaken from a dream; This never happened. He was close, his scent lingered after he walked by the boxes. He didn't make a sound, which made it harder to tell where he stood.

"Boo." Tristan whispered as he crashed the boxes.

He pulled me away from the wall and did what he pleased.

"Stop please."

I laid there on the cement numb. Not crying and barely breathing. Rolling to my side I attempted to pick myself up. My body was weak, and I fell to the ground. My second try was a success. I walked slowly to the exit door being cautious with every move. As I exited the garage, my eyes grew wet. I collapsed in the middle of sidewalk sobbing uncontrollably.

"Sherry Williams. Sherry, can you hear me?"

I heard a man mumbling but I couldn't make out the words. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked around. I laid on a chilled slab in a room that was filled of pictures from my past, me and my mother at the tranquil pond, my father and I at my sixth birthday, me reading my first book, and tons of other photos I had never seen. There was a large blank screen on the wall in front of me. It looked like a projector screen but there was no projector in the room. As I glanced around I found no windows, and nor doors.

A puff of smoke exited my lips as I spoke softly. "Hello." I whispered . 10

"Where am I? What happened?"

I sat up, and twisted my body to hang my legs over the side of the stainless steal slab. A chill shot up my spine as my bare feet touched the tiled floor. I wrapped my arms in front of me, and my lips quivered. It was cold. Spider veins began to show in my pale legs and arms.

Where was I? I wonder. How did I get here? I paced around the white room, looking at the many pictures. The one that caught my eye was one that I had never seen before. It was of me, my mother and father. I had to of have been about two years old and the three of us were cuddled in my parents bed. It must have been winter, you could see the fluffy white snow that covered the yard through the window, I laid between my mother and father fast asleep. You could see the passion in my parents eyes for each other. My father was gently kissing my mother's forehead as she smiled with glee.

"She's in a comma from the trauma, is there anyone from her family we can call?"

"No doctor, she has no one. Her father died when she was seven and her mother pasted ago two years ago."

"Okay, just keep an eye on her and let me know if there is any improvement. I'll find someone for this poor girl."

"Yes doctor"

11

I heard the mumbling voice again but I could make out his words. I

looked around trying to see where this voice was coming from. I walked over to the blank screen and gently ran my fingers over it. With the touch of my finger tips the blank screen flashed on. It began to play video clips of my childhood. Birthday parties, family reunions, and my fathers funeral. As I watched my fathers funeral I began to wish he was here. Then more I began to think about him, more videos of him played. It seemed as if what I was thinking about was being played on the screen.

The numbers are pages. and you cant see it here but the thump and the beeps are all in a different font, the thumps are her heart beat. and the beeps is her alarm.


Pretty good! Are you on any writing sites? I would like to read more. I joined this writing community called http://www.chapteread.com. I think you might find it useful. They have great writing tools and posting features for getting critiques and reviews. The other writers give helpful advice. Worth checking out!

Stainless Paper Clips - 14 items found


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Chandeliers shed light on words

Some, in details, are downright chatty.

One of my all-conditions favorites is the Zettel'z chandelier by celebrated German lighting author Ingo Maurer. Enchanting his typical Mad Hatter proposals to design - remember light bulbs with angel wings - Maurer has affixed bent notes to wires radiating from a stainless grit one's teeth frame. Backlit by bulbs, the pieces of paper seem to incandescence, bringing the serious doodles, poems and scribbles ("amore amore") into succour. The blank pieces of paper that hit with the chandelier let you get in on the effect - though the $1,220 reward tag at YLighting.com may sideline some.

If that's the what really happened, you might try the Wakefield Chandelier at Crockery Barn, whose three disc-shaped tiers of bronze-finished iron are punctuated by poor clips. Each holds an ivory birthday card printed with maps, sketches and phrases like "all the faction's a stage," "grin" and "let them eat cake!" Though some of the judgement may seem cliched, the Wakefield remains a quirky another to the crystal chandelier - and at $299, far more affordable than the Maurer plan.

Of course, if you demand something on a smaller ranking, you can always turn to the Urban Outfitters Unfixed Spider Attitude for $12; its 16 braided blade cables arrive d enter a occur with clips for photos and notes. A top pinch makes it unexacting to hang.

But I say: Go with the proposal that speaks to you.

Array

Happeez Clips spotlight the unique ability to stick to stainless steel, glass, and mirrors without leaving behind any rest. Amazinginly, they&#39 ...

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South Padre sculptor Sandy Feet's built a living on the beach Dallas Morning News
South Padre sculptor Sandy Feet's built a living on the beachDallas Morning News, TXAny pliant metal – bobby pins, paper clips, twist ties – will do. A McDonald's plastic knife can sub for the pastry knife, she says. A paper straw can blow sand chaff from crevices. She adds details from the top down, so grains cut from above don't

Mike Kilian: Never the twain shall meet Ed Hanna and the OD Utica Observer Dispatch
Mike Kilian: Never the twain shall meet - Ed Hanna and the ODUtica Observer Dispatch, NYHis EA Hanna Corp. did business nationwide as a contractor and distributor of photo operations and supplies and as manufacturer of stainless steel kitchen items. Hanna, son of a building contractor and a decorated Marine for his World War II service,

Beanie Babies for vacuum cleaner San Diego CityBEAT
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TRANSPORTATION EQUIPMENT Site Selection
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April Fools and (genuine) electric cigarettes guardian.co.uk
April Fools and (genuine) electric cigarettesguardian.co.uk, UKThis one came from the National Railway Museum at York, and while not terribly exciting, had the plausibility which almost got me to send it to London as a brief, or "module" as the single paragraph nuggets of news in the paper are now called.

MRI And Metal

Many people perfectly learning about MRI safety and hazards ask very similar questions. One of most common is, “why do I have to remove all metal before an MRI,” or it’s corollary, “can I get an MRI with some metal on (or in) me?” To responsible these questions, let’s start at the very beginning…

As far as the MRI machine is troubled, there are two different types of metal, ferromagnetic and non-ferromagnetic. You may call to mind back to high school chemistry and the periodic table of elements where many of us well-grounded (and then promptly forgot) that Fe is the symbol for iron.

Fe - Iron from the Periodic Table

Fe - Iron from the Repeated Table

“Fe”, the symbol, is derived from ferrum, the Latin huddle for iron. Ferromagnetic does not mean that a metal contains iron, but rather that the secular has magnetic properties as iron can.

Ferromagnetic metals are iron, cobalt and nickel. These raw ingredients are public in many, many things made from metal, including (likely) the steel grommets in your shoes, to the zipper in your pants, to components in your wristwatch. Another inferior area to find these metals is in batteries, such as those found in your hearing aid, cell phone and iPod. There are a few non-metal ferromagnetic materials, but these are not very clich.

Alright, alright, already… enough chemistry. What does this lowly?

When exposed to magnetic fields, ferromagnetic materials become magnets themselves. You can examine this yourself with a fridge-door magnet and a few paper clips. You’ll probably find that paper clips correct out of the box aren’t capable of magnetically ’sticking’ to one another. If you poke out one to a chunky fridge-door magnet, however, that paper clip is now magnetized and will meet be able to magnetically ’stick’ to another paper snip. The length of the magnetic chain of paper clips you can create is a function of how flourishing the fridge-door magnet is and the magnetic properties of the paper lop off steel.

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