LOOP COFFEE TABLE. COFFEE TABLE

Loop coffee table. Kashmir dining table.

Loop Coffee Table


loop coffee table
    coffee table
  • low table where magazines can be placed and coffee or cocktails are served
  • A coffee table, also called a cocktail table, is a style of long, low table which is designed to be placed in front of a sofa, to support beverages (hence the name), magazines, feet, books (especially coffee table books), and other small items to be used while sitting, such as coasters.
  • A low table, typically placed in front of a sofa
  • (Coffee Tables) While any small and low table can be, and is, called a coffee table, the term is applied particularly to the sets of three or four tables made from about 1790; of which the latter were called 'quartetto tables'.
    loop
  • cringle: fastener consisting of a metal ring for lining a small hole to permit the attachment of cords or lines
  • A curved stroke forming part of a letter (e.g., b, p)
  • anything with a round or oval shape (formed by a curve that is closed and does not intersect itself)
  • A shape produced by a curve that bends around and crosses itself
  • A length of thread, rope, or similar material, doubled or crossing itself, typically used as a fastening or handle
  • move in loops; "The bicycle looped around the tree"
loop coffee table - Heaven's End
Heaven's End
Heaven's End
Heaven's End and Fade Out are the first two releases in a series of long-overdue reissues by British primal psych band Loop.

The band was formed in London in 1986 by Robert Hampson on guitar and vocals and Beki Stewart (Bex) on drums. After finding bassist Glen Ray, Loop signed to Head Records, run by Jeff Barrett (Heavenly), and released the feedback-drenched 12-inch, 16 Dreams. With the arrival of James Endeacott on second guitar, drummer John Wills, and bassist Neil MacKay, Loop adopted a more primal, rhythmic approach and put out their debut full-length, 1987's Heavens End.

The band hypnotized all with their discordant, trance-like spell which served as an antidote to the prevailing trends in British pop at the time; they resurrected the concept of loud, out-there rock for a new era, creating droning soundscapes of bleak beauty and harsh dissonance loosely influenced by The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, The MC5, but retaining the avant-garde and experimental edge of Can, Faust, Neu!, Rhys Chatham, Glenn Branca, and minimalist systems music. Live shows were revelatory--Loop pushed PAs to the very limit, delivering a sonic pummel that has yet to be experienced since.

A collection of singles and B-sides, The World in Your Eyes, appeared in 1987, after which the band signed to the Chapter 22 label and released the 12-inch Collision and their second full-length, Fade Out. Following another label change, another second guitarist, Scott Dowson, and a final album, A Gilded Eternity, the band disbanded in 1990 after four years.

Remastered from the original analog sources, these two out-of-print albums are housed in vinyl-style card sleeves, reproducing the original artwork. Both have been expanded to double discs with a wealth of extra material--original mixes, demos, and Peel Session cuts--from the relevant chronological time frame, and are also available digitally for the first time.

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"You got everything?" Ray said. "Yeah. Should be about it," Doris said, "Thanks for taking the day off. I would've never been able to do this all on my own." "I'm your boyfriend remember. And you're pregnant." "I know. I'm just saying." "Thanks for giving me credit at least." Ray took the last box of things down from the small U-Haul truck. Doris was standing in the doorway of their new home. It was an old Victorian style home, built sometime in the 1940s. The previous owners were going through a messy divorce and wanted to be rid of the property as soon as they could. Ray and Doris were able to get a good price on it. With the baby on the way, there was no way that they could continue to stay in Doris' one bedroom flat. They had spent the past week moving, a bit at a time. The movers came in last Monday and took most of the larger items: the bed, the sofa, the kitchen table, coffee table, love seat, book cases. But even with everything already placed, their new home looked barren and spare. Doris was not the kind of person to accumulate things without purpose, but still, at her old flat, though things were neat, they were also cramped. "Miss the old place?" Doris said, as if reading his mind. "Not really." "Don't lie." "Ok. Maybe a little." "Are you sure you don't have go in today?" Doris said. "No. The case is at a dead end and Freeman's taking care of it," Ray said. "Alright." "You know, I know we kind of work together, but we don't always have to take about work all the time." "Well, I can't help it. You know me?" "Yeah. You're a workaholic. If you must know, witness disappeared." "Tough luck. Sorry," Doris smiled. She looped her arm into his coat. They were finished sometime in the late afternoon. The cardboard boxes were emptied and the things that were inside them were laid out along the floor of the living and dining room: lamps, books, photo frames, trophies, plates, silverware, movies and music, records, home supplies, canned goods, vegetables, bread, meats, bathroom supplies, curtains. By late evening, most of the things were where they should be. "I'm exhausted," Ray said. "I know. It's almost eight." "Want to get some dinner?" "I'm not feeling alright right now. Want to stay in and cook for me? Day off and all, and me being pregnant with your baby and everything," Doris said. "Right. Sure." "So what are we having?" "...Spaghetti with Prego." "Fine with me. I love Prego." "I know you do." Ray heated dinner. He and Doris ate in the living room with the television off. The cable person would not be able to make it until tomorrow afternoon. Until then, they would have to do without their usual cable television and internet. "You sure you don't want to take tomorrow off too?" Doris said. "I"ll see. Maybe I will." "I'm bored. Let's go meet the neighbors," Doris said. "It's almost ten already," Ray said. "I'm sure they don't mind. It's a Thursday night anyway." Ray thought for a minute, "Why not." It was late August and though it was the height of summer, the weather had begun to cool down. Ray put the cardigan around Doris' shoulders and they both walked out to meet the neighbors. Their home was on the corner, the building next to theirs was on the left. They walked a few feet up the block and up the stairs of the stoop, rang the doorbell. They stood and waited for a bit. At the very least, they could feel less anxious knowing that the front porch was still lit along with the interior of the home. Foot steps approached the door. A man opened it halfway. "Hi, I'm Ray and this is my girlfriend Doris. We just moved in next door and wanted to introduce ourselves." "It's a surprise. Most people don't do the neighborly introductions around here, but I'm John," the man said while shaking Ray's hand. He swung the door open all the way. On the sofa was a woman who had just started to get up, "This is my friend Anne." "Hi." Ray and Doris shook her hand. John and Anne seemed to be around the same age as they were. John was almost the same height, though with longer hair and a well maintained five o' clock shadow. He wore black glasses and a purple and green flannel. Anne also around the same height as John. She was a bit shyer, preferring to stay slightly behind John on the other side of the door. In some ways, it was comforting to Ray to know that he would be living next to people who he be able to maintain some kind of friendly relationship with. Outside of work. "You know, we were just talking and having a few drinks. Why don't you join us," John said. "Sure. Why not," Doris said.
25.365 Rope
25.365 Rope
This rope saw a lot of use aiding in the doctoring of cows and calves before it became a decoration in my house. Now it sits on my coffee table, surrounding a bowl that holds a candle. I still remember how it felt in my hand as my loop tightened and I dallied around the saddle horn... You Just Can't See Him From the Road by Chris Ledoux Well you don't see him much on the big screen anymore The kids don't ride along with Roy or Gene And that ain't really him with all those feathers in his hat And some frenchman's name embroidered on his jeans But he's still out there ridin' fences Still makes his livin' with his rope As long as there's a sunset he'll keep ridin' for the brand You just can't see him from the road Well he never learned to two step hell he barely learned to walk But he's worn a lot of leather off the tree He's had one or two good horses that he counts among his friends He never drew a breath that wasn't free But he's still out there ridin' fences Still makes his livin' with his rope As long as there's a sunset he'll keep ridin' for the brand You just can't see him from the road Well he's tall in the saddle short on the cash The last to quit the first to buy the beer Well he's a knight in leather armor still livin' by the code That's made him what he's been a hundred years But he's still out there ridin' fences Still makes his livin' with his rope As long as there's a sunset he'll keep ridin' for the brand You just can't see him from the road As long as there's a sunset he'll keep ridin' for the brand You just can't see him from the road

loop coffee table
loop coffee table
Loop (Ring Series, Book 3)
Learn the final truth about the Ring!

In this much-awaited conclusion of the Ring trilogy, everything you thought you knew about the story will have to be put side. In Loop, the killer mimics both AIDS and cancer in a deadly new guise. Kaoru Futami, a youth mature beyond his years, must hope to find answers in the deserts of New Mexico and the Loop project, a virtual matrix created by scientists. The fate of more than just his loved ones depends on Kaoru's success.

Loop is written as a stand-alone work though it is best enjoyed by fans of Ring and Spiral. The author's own favorite of the trilogy, this astounding finale is an emotionally resonant tale that scales conceptual heights from an angle all its own. Fiction about fiction has rarely been so gripping.

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