| Current Path : /var/mail/ift-informatik.de/cgabriel/.Archive.XXX/cur/ |
Linux ift1.ift-informatik.de 5.4.0-216-generic #236-Ubuntu SMP Fri Apr 11 19:53:21 UTC 2025 x86_64 |
| Current File : /var/mail/ift-informatik.de/cgabriel/.Archive.XXX/cur/1524834165.zarafa.31035520180427:2, |
Received: from drive.adoleady.us (unknown [167.160.88.25]) by ift-informatik.de (Postfix) with ESMTP id 487DB3D200015 for <christian.gabriel@shortnote.de>; Fri, 27 Apr 2018 15:02:45 +0200 (CEST) DKIM-Signature: v=1; a=rsa-sha1; c=relaxed/relaxed; s=k1; d=adoleady.us; h=Mime-Version:Content-Type:Date:From:Reply-To:Subject:To:Message-ID; i=fatloss@adoleady.us; bh=D2t53dzmqzInjtddE8a9knl22eI=; b=jqiAti/Aw0rooUPd0QOFgGSnnd1UwONP1wF1LxI3D/ZtvRWCYkSqvw9q6qSsY8IzV30pRhbaGQQc RX6XXpTu1lwb09GO4T3o+pP8RjntsxyXZd93NwTwBSrg1qpl4vDFHGrVqL9YEnVdb5zYMwMNYRgt jq1+c0u6gYZknW9HwtQ= DomainKey-Signature: a=rsa-sha1; c=nofws; q=dns; s=k1; d=adoleady.us; b=KR/OHZ4Ttg8Ml6+EXZiRvqHaKZr2CsjcDOD4GqTKJ1xK+oQDoF9gvEkJizMSTRfi1vO/+hTcBA+N f4czLw2vOt5rh1e5sq5zwIpS+4PxYDkHL/xWh5ZOK4TnTMX18UMOM+hkNhCPNZVxi8tdhLJl9/TT jFB46SiK5ttiwsLTSNw=; Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="cc2a3913a37c68b893f02224ba75c35e" Date: Fri, 27 Apr 2018 04:58:09 -0700 From: "Lose Stomach Fat" <fatloss@adoleady.us> Reply-To: "Lose Stomach Fat" <fatloss@adoleady.us> Subject: Message from Christ To: <christian.gabriel@shortnote.de> Message-ID: <h3ulmo7ltzulms1v-hn5eht16qsv6j0ov-f0c46eeb@adoleady.us> --cc2a3913a37c68b893f02224ba75c35e Content-Type: text/plain; Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit This email must be viewed in HTML mode. --cc2a3913a37c68b893f02224ba75c35e Content-Type: text/html; Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit <html> <head> <title></title> <style type="text/css"> </style> </head> <body><a href="http://adoleady.us/Talxze3LUUDdtsCz0Vnq9kU0h8HPXlefZzMj9IJp5_7PvdLu"><img border="0" src="http://adoleady.us/CG54_uj8UV4GBoGJQpzxt6ghKpJuC-ZRLBNPSzCYLHE1uIj8" /> </a> <div id="INHERIT" name="11px" title="6px"> <div style="border: 7px hidden #ffffff; width: 550px; background-color: #ffffff"> <div> <table style="padding-top: 10px;width:550px; font-size:18px;"> <tbody> <tr> <td> <p>Father Christopher realized he was being kidnapped...</p> <p>Walking back to the Mission in Baghdad, Iraq - he was jumped.</p> <p>There he was, in the back of the trunk - struggling, trying to kick open the door.</p> <p>He calmed down and told himself:</p> <p>"My faith in God will protect me"</p> <p>And his faith in God did protect him.</p> <p>23 days later he was on a flight home - back to his wife Jennifer and his 5 year old son James.</p> <p>Father Christopher White's brush with death is a truly amazing story - <b> <a href="http://adoleady.us/NPKQ-SnHVfOr78hMiFlwDmXtcokfDqoLI20M5TgGHDc19R7A">Go here to find the full story and discover how he used his brush with death to help his wife change her life. </a></b></p> <p><b>HINT: </b>what he discovered in Afghanistan showed him how his wife could use her faith in god to finally lose 32.7 pounds after struggling with being overweight for 19 years.</p> <p>If you've struggled to burn body fat, his experience will change your life. Don't miss out.</p> <p><b><a href="http://adoleady.us/NPKQ-SnHVfOr78hMiFlwDmXtcokfDqoLI20M5TgGHDc19R7A">==> Go here now to discover how you can use your faith to finally burn away your body fat <==</a></b></p> <p> </p> </td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" style="font-size:12px;"><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <a href="http://adoleady.us/8SXenvXeNGan0fuu_fYFZaAfugIjPTwKuH3hd5KPlw9EUl8C"><img alt="To Un_subscribe " src="http://adoleady.us/6986bd9f17b53fce49.jpg" /></a></td> </tr> </tbody> </table> </div> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> </div> <table style=" background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 5px solid white;"> <tbody> <tr> <td> <div id="random" name="random" style="color: #FFFFFF; font: Georgia 2pt; border: 1px;" title="random"> <p style="color: #FFFFFF; font: Georgia 2pt; border: 1px;">‘So, this is almost done?’ I clicked through the slides. Uncle had given me a CD of his work. I had uploaded it on my laptop. The unformatted slides had paragraphs of text, no bullet points and font sizes ranging from eight to seventy-two. ‘Yes, I spent three weeks on it,’ he said. We sat at a work-table in the living room. Manju studied inside. No one else was at home. Ananya’s father and I hunched close together to see the laptop screen. ‘These have no figures, no charts, no specific points even …’ I said, trying to be less critical but truthful as well. ‘Figures are here,’ uncle said as he opened his briefcase. ‘I still have to learn that feature in PowerPoint.’ He took out three thick files with dirty brown covers and two hundred sheets each inside. ‘What’s this?’ ‘Our last year business data,’ he said. ‘You can’t put it all,’ I said. ‘When is this due?’ ‘That rascal Verma wants it in a week,’ uncle said. The rate at which Ananya’s dad was going, he couldn’t deliver it in a year. ‘One week? This is only past performance data. Don’t you have to make a plan for next year?’ ‘I was going to do that, soon.’ He swallowed hard. I kept my left elbow on the table and my palm on my forehead. I flipped through the slides in reverse to reach the front. ‘What?’ he said. ‘Anything wrong in what I’ve done?’ I turned to him and gave a slight smile. ‘No, a few finishing touches left,’ I said. ‘So, how do we do it?’ ‘Let’s start by you telling me what exactly you do at the bank. And then take me through these files.’ I shut the laptop. For the next three hours I understood what a deputy district manager does at a public sector bank. Actually, there is a lot of work, contrary to my belief that government bank staff did nothing. However, a lot of the work is about reporting, approvals and maintaining certain records. It is more beauraucracy and less business. I yawned as he finished explaining how the staff-recruiting process works in his Egmore district. I looked at the wall clock. It was nine-thirty. ‘Sorry, I didn’t even ask you for dinner,’ Mr Swaminathan said. ‘It’s OK, keep going. I’ll wash my face,’ I said and pulled back my chair. I came back from the bathroom and uncle had brought two steel plates and a bowl of lemon rice. He put the bowl in the microwave to heat the food. ‘Sorry, I can’t give you proper dinner tonight. I told the maid to make something simple,’ he said. “It’s fine,’ I said as I took the plates off him. I went to the kitchen. I picked up the curd and water. I saw the spoons but decided not to take them. ‘Manju?’ I asked as I returned to the table. ‘He ate already. He wakes up at four so he has to sleep now,’ uncle said. We ate in silence. For the first time in their house, I felt welcome. Sure, they’d give me breakfast and a lift to work three days a week. However, today was different. Uncle refilled my plate when I finished and poured water for me. We continued to work after dinner until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. ‘It’s eleven-thirty, I’d better go,’ I said. I shut down my laptop and stacked all the papers together. ‘Yes,’ uncle said as he looked at his watch. ‘I didn’t realise this would be so much work.’ I came to the door and outlined the agenda. ‘Here’s the plan,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow we make a structure, so we at least have a title for all fifty slides that need to be there. The next day we will put the text. Day after we will start on the figures and charts.’ We came out of the house.</p> </div> </td> </tr> </tbody> </table> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <a href="http://adoleady.us/4PweG54e2z-PseuFyxgWRJ8XekAzRyRlnsbG3kTySkGiTqIz"><img src="http://adoleady.us/39b777c1f30305b407.jpg" /></a></div> </body> </html> --cc2a3913a37c68b893f02224ba75c35e--