Wella Koleston Colour Chart 8.0

Isorropia

Good evening again. I consider it superfluous to repeat the speech previously done, so I leave you to-uh-reading.

Title: Ισορροπία ( Isorropia)
Fandom: Saint Seiya
Character / Couple: Ikki (x x Shun Hyoga)
Prompt: 091.Compleanno
Rating: VM18
Word Count: 2284
Summary: Sex between three people must be either the prowess of an evening or a religious service, everything or nothing, the middle ground does not work, are annihilating a disaster. A threesome is devotion. And 'the ability to think in terms of composition rather than joint. It means being willing to give exactly what you are willing to take, not least because it would not be right, no more because that would spoil the balance - and balance is the most important thing in threesomes .

( Caskalangley - Honey )
Notes: Oneshot , Threesome (Balance means Isorropia)

[September 8]

POV-Ikki-

Tomorrow is the birthday of Shun.

's amazing how quickly the flight time, when you're alone. During

our struggles, the time slipped slowly like a poisonous glue, which prevented us to breathe and live.

I lived in a relative phenomenon, since I always bend time to my will, hurting the people close to me, I know-but ... Shun him, who loves life in all its aspects, which would always have one more minute, the boy who wakes up at dawn to see the sun rise and will not give to see the sunset every night and every night the stars, the source of our strength, of our existence ...

A person Shun as surely needs time to fully enjoy life in a way that one can never fully conceive, and because no one like him.

Weak on the one hand, and incredibly strong hand.

fact. Weak because it is strong.

Yes, because Shun would not have the strength that distinguishes the powers of the cosmos, the ability to hurt the next ... but at the same time, deeply believe in our mission and I hope that justice triumphs forever on Earth, just to avoid him and these other torments.

I wish I could protect from the evil world where unfortunately we live in, the bad, by itself ... to me.

Because I feel it, I will not be able to contain my feelings for a long time, the flame that consumes me inside, hotter and more imperious the flames of my astral image, the Phoenix.

I can not, dammit!

I can not stain my brother-let alone with these thoughts with the actions!

How

I?

I know what I would give him for his birthday ... but it is a gift that I can not let him.

-POV-Hyoga

Tomorrow is the birthday of Shun.

It 's amazing how time runs out, when you do not have to be taken deadly battles.

I must find the most suitable gift ... but so what? I do not understand much about these things ...

But this is Shun, I can not disappoint. And even though I know that would appreciate anything I have to give him something special.

Shun, who delivered me from the anxiety that gripped me, the awareness of my sins, and Master Isaac Camus ... the one who saved my life during the ascent of the Twelve Houses, warming my body with the immense love of her Cosmo, beautiful and pure as an angel can be chained ...

Yes, Shun saved me all the ways in which a person can be saved.

And I love him for that.

E 'discovery was a painful and shocking, but almost ... natural.

I never understood the nature of feelings, their usefulness, I thought they were the scrapes, chains ...

chains.

What irony.

If only I were able to express what I feel, if I could only bring out what that disturbs my nights, which makes me sigh to-day in-house, always hidden from my mask of ice. I'm just a coward.

I must speak with Shun.

Yes, even if he did not repay me, I will make him the most precious gift of all: my love and my soul.

POV-Shun-

Tomorrow is my birthday, now that I think.

Not that it worried me that I do not particularly care for him, but ... I thought about how life is continuing to flow, and faster and faster especially now that we are at peace.

Oh, I wish it were that way forever ... here, I do not want anything except this.

I wish the world could continue to live in a serene, with its highs and its lows, but still confident of his men bright future they deserve.

Yes, I would just like this ...

...

deceive But I know of.

I do not want just that. For the first time in my life I want something for me ... Someone

.

But I'm so confused ... divided at a crossroads that will still cause suffering to the people I love most in the world.

Ikki and Hyogo.

No, I do not want to suffer for my feelings!

I do not even know what are serious ... and Ikki Hyoga are deeply opposed, are the heat and frost, Phoenix and Swan ... yet, internally, are very similar.

I give the same safety, sense of protection for those who want really good, they make me feel the beauty of emotions ...

But what I feel is wrong, wrong!

Even if there was clarity in my heart, I would still suffer the designated from my heart.

I do not want to hurt or not Ikki Hyoga.

What despair, and that sense of horror when I found myself thinking of them ... both!

What kind of person am I? A person's dirty, corrupt? Hades has polluted so much of my essence?

The questions and doubts oppress me, choking, crushed to the ground, preventing me from flying.

... Flying on the wings of the Swan or those of the Phoenix?

What can I do?

[September 9]

POV-Ikki-

celebrations for Shun I have just finished.

The party continued until late, laughter, gifts, delicious cakes, and became eternal tears of emotion to Shun, who never, in his humility, he would have expected something like this for his birthday .

Upon delivery of gifts, strangely, even as Hyoga I said he did not give poterglielo before others.

but unfounded, why should I be amazed. I know what are the feelings of the beautiful Swan for Shun and curiously I do not feel jealous.

Paradoxically, the only word that hovers inside it ... share.

It 's something special, deeply unsettling.

It 's like the beauty of the world was contained within me, and I wanted to show it.

It 's like if my most precious treasure was too great for him just for me.

Sharing.

With a person with whom I want to share anyway.

Hyoga ... is a difficult person to understand. I thought in the past, it was just sick of bumbling hysterical fanaticism-is preaching from that pulpit! -.

But now I realize that is just a guy who has suffered. Like me.

A person who is found to hell unwillingly. Like me.

A person who seeks to become fragile really strong. Like me.

A person who loves

Shun. Like me.

Hyoga I look in your eyes, and we know what to do. We do not understand, but we know it.

And, internally, we pray.

-POV-Hyoga

My thoughts (and my desires) now run out of control, free from the coffin of ice - far more impenetrable Freezing Coffin of the master-Camus that gripped me.

Ikki has pierced my heart physically, long ago.

Perhaps he did so much deeper than I thought.

Indeed, both Shun Ikki that I have warmed in their own peculiar way: the first with the pure light of unconditional love, the second rough handling to reality, allowing me to live with greater awareness what I had around-although with some scar more.

Shun and Ikki are light and heat, impossible impossible to separate, do not want them both.

I need both to live.

Knowing Shun, you'll be holed up in his room, watching the sky from the balcony, like every evening, for his personal greeting.

Ikki I look in your eyes, and we know what to do.

POV-Shun-

How wonderful the stars.

Thousands, millions of stars, each with its heart, its energy, its history ... the contemplation of this power, I know them very well, leaves me stunned every time I raise my head towards them.

E 'pulsating life that imposed upon me the life that I can not help but admire.

I wish I could watch the stars with confidence, but today I can not.

Although the party that my brother had arranged for me I was beautiful-I do not deserve so much! - Are not able to make peace with my spirit, restless because of the thrills of my heart.

Hyoga and Ikki.

Ikki and Hyogo.

My wishes scare me.

My expectations are a threat to the serenity of them all.

No! They should not suffer, not them!

Rather ... will deprive them of my useless existence, this is better than to see them tortured, or maybe even disgusted with me!

I could not stand it ... I can not bear ...

My hand shakes stronger the ledge of the balcony, my muscles start to move when ...

A hand.

Two hands.

Their touch is different and the same.

I could absolutely not be recognized.

around me, and I see my love, staring at me with such intensity as to make me waver.

The deep blue and the blue ice stick in my irises in a manner so sublime that it hurts.

"Just you, now ... I can not, I can not see you now ... I ... I do not have to try ..."

Ikki I put a finger to his lips to silence me.

"Do not say anything. It is not necessary that you should say something. "

E 'Hyoga was talking, soon followed by Ikki:

"We are guilty of that sin. The beauty that you give off too much in your every gesture. Please, Shun. Now, let it happen. "

And I can not help but close your eyes and open my mind to them.

distinctly hear their lips on my cheek resting on my neck ... my lips. Entering slowly, one at a time.

The emotions I'm experiencing is too much, too intense, and almost fall if there were Hyoga to support me while I kiss Ikki.

And 'This Love?

E 'this pleasant confusion, this constant search for, want, want, share, give?

How can it be so complete, so total, so ... right?

After returning to my room, with supreme care and dedication I take off their clothes, one by one.

And I can not help but blush on my nakedness, although what is happening-not know-how still fills me with utter joy.

And I can not help but instinctively avert their gaze when they are showing their beautiful bodies to me.

Hyogo, with a half smile, I gently turn the head, embedding her look in mine and kissed me again.

I can not understand anything, they are completely captured by their attention, their hands gliding over my body which is red-hot as I never thought possible.

When Ikki's hand closed on my sex, I seem to die.

continued his sweet torture, and begins to torment Hyoga Ikki softly, letting him slide his lips along the chest, hip, and then further down, making him moan like me.

Ikki's hands, the burning groans of Ikki, the skin of Hyogo, Hyogo breath, when all fragments of my being exploded in orgasm, leaving me breathless and panting.

Ikki looks at me with malice, and always staring at my eyes lick the seed that was cast on his hand, followed shortly after the peak of pleasure.

Hyoga seems particularly pleased with the results, and Nii-san sets almost challenge.

My brother has always accepted any challenge, you never back.

With a gesture, it does lay beside me, and this time I have to take the lead, I can not submit passively to the men who love without giving anything in return! - And I squatted down next to his life.

Hyogo tense muscles beneath the flaming lips to Ikki that is torturing the Swan with small bites measured, precise, calculated.

But I feel more tense when it opens my lips on his member, as he had done with Ikki.

Hyoga opens his lips in a sigh, now choked by the fingers of Ikki. that, with diligence, infiltrate into his mouth, moistened with saliva and closer to each movement.

While increasing the speed - the pace of the Hyogo-choked breath, feel your fingers wet with Nii-san slide down my spine, until you reach the junction point of the buttocks, and squeeze between them carefully.

I try to relax as much as possible, although some nests' of fear-and although I am engaged in other activities at the time-

Our actions are synchronized as only a perfect composition can be: at the precise moment that empties into the Hyoga my mouth firmly Ikki puts two fingers inside me.

Pain and pleasure, mingled with the smell of leather and the taste of sperm, surround me as I sank down on a still panting Hyogo, that binds me and kissed me, tasting his own tastes, while trying to Ikki relax as much as possible.

When finally asked me gently if I'm ready, come inside me.

Pain!

A feeling of invasion shakes me, I feel that I can not resist!

Pain!

Pain!

Hyoga is near me, holding me and kissing me, help me while Ikki gently begins to move.

And it's only pleasure.

I can not say as it lasted, how many positions and roles we met, but no matter: our bodies are made to be stuck, as irreplaceable part of one whole. Everything becomes perfect, beautiful, self: I melt in the certainty that Ikki and Hyoga are there for me-with me, inside me-and that will not go away ever.

When, in the end, I can not resist and we collapsed exhausted on the sheets fulfilled, I leaned back and narrow chest Hyogo Ikki's chest, an arm that holds us both, both I where they can kiss, whispering:

"Happy Birthday, Shun ..."

And in that moment I know that I will love you forever.

Because no matter what others think, what does the justice or the laws of the world. A report

so perfectly balanced, so beautiful, so harmonious have to be right.

Ikki and Hyoga are the two indispensable components of my being, and now I can not live without.

.

Kodicom Kmc4400r Driver

When words are not enough

Good evening. The player would point out that very ashamed to republish this fanfiction, and one that immediately follow, but I think it is fair to do so for reasons of correctness. And 'one of the two stories that were canceled by EFPIA, now two years old. Enjoy.

Title: When words are not enough.
Fandom: Saint Seiya
Character / Couple: Ikki
Prompt: 037.Udito
Rating: VM 18
Word Count: 810
Summary: Ikki wants to change ... "habits" between himself and Shun. Easy, to say.
Notes: Yaoi, Demenziale

Disclaimers: Saint Seiya and all of the characters are © Kurumada Masami, Shueisha .
Table: http://shin-temperance.livejournal.com/24283.html # cutid1

suffused rose over the bed moaning, interspersed with silly with kisses and small gasps.

The sounds came from the two figures above this narrow, two men, one tall, the sun-baked skin, vibrant masculinity and the other, with her long blond-brown hair, green eyes emerald and translucent skin like the moon, seemed a curious hybrid between an infant and a girl, however, he too was a man.

-Oh! Nii-san ... -

Ikki (because did you know that we talked about him) had firmly grasped an ankle Shun (well, obviously the other was him), and using a firm had extended her legs even more, go deeper, even deeper, as if you would entrargli soul: the subtle body, but trained and less elastic, readily responded to the orders given by the Phoenix.

-I could stay inside you all my life ... -

Just a sly whisper, Shun's ear, which obviously blushed.

-M-ma ... Nii-san! -

Ikki to continue his work, emitting a low husky laugh against the ear of the boy, the boy was flushed, sweaty and shifty-eyed and languid: had captured the beauty of a prey.

-What's so embarrassed? And it's true, and I know I like you too ... your bad ass did not seem to expect more, mh? -

Shun became if possible even more red, uttering inarticulate cries like a doll mechanics course.

-So what? Not true, small Shun? -

Ikki Shun led the legs on his shoulders, deepening even further the contact between their bodies. Shun sighed "yes."

the sadistic streak of Ikki was especially strong that day, so I asked him casually:

- How? Small, I have not heard ... -

Yes, Ikki, yes! -

Shun, suddenly caught the passion, he was deprived of inhibitions, clinging to the shoulders of the other with desire.

Ikki, proud and excited by the triumph, he continued to tread in the hand

-Come on, baby, tell me how you'd like to fuck you ... -

He took it and turned ; positions now Shun was astride him, and he could no longer hide his face. Firmly gripped his life and gave a push harder, as if to underline the question that had just expressed.

-U-uhm ... -

-Dai, Shun, what do you like so that you could not fail to speak, mh? -

-E- you know ... -

-On, brave little creature, I want to hear from you ... -

-Um ... here, I ... you .. . ... Your t-no I can not do anything! -

Shun covered his eyes with his hands, in complete crisis and trying to escape.
now it was beyond the embarrassment the next step was the implosion.

Ikki sighed heavily plated with one arm and forcing him to watch it.

-Shun, look, everything is fine, but we lived together for life, we are together "that" makes sense from a lot 'of time, we should be in line now, you so you go in paranoia every time? -

Shun shrugged, replying stammered miserably

-M-but-are you now that you have strange ideas, not my fault, s-usually are perfectly normal! -

Ikki raised an eyebrow, skeptical, running a hand through his hair.

-perfectly normal? For goodness sake, it can also be exciting in its own way, but every time I seem to you is raping , Shun ... - to which the poor fellow had an odd hiccup and interrupted him:

-N-not true! -

Ikki looked at him, very serious:

- last night ... you stuck in the pillowcase head, Shun .-

Complete silence on the other front.

-I said ... I would also change from time to time, have a relationship other than a moment, no? Try for once not cost you anything! -

... The stage after the implosion of what was? The interdimensional rift ?

Then the boy took the breath, quickly passed a hand through his hair-a gesture of no use, they were like a haystack after a tornado-and Ikki stared with the air of a puppy decided.

-Okay! -

Ikki He walked over, picking up the lost contact just before leaving that the other sank within him with a small moan satisfied.

-Aa-time .. I wish you ... -

Ikki smiled maliciously, and started to move slowly, rubbing his hands with the small nipples of the other, like little cherries:

Yes, baby, tell me ... -

Shun continued and safe as a blind man who decided to cross a six lane highway at rush hour.

-C-s me that ... you scop-NO-Nii-san I can not, sorry! -

shook his head in the throes of a sudden rampage: the his heart fought like a scared rabbit and had seemed to explode at any moment.

Ikki snorted, making a hard fall on the bed.

-You are a lost case, Shun. Okay, no words, something unexpected, anything! -

The young man looked between the confused and embarrassed, was not very well versed in certain issues, but tried to seriously seeking a solution to the problem, not draw from a spider hole at the beginning ...

... then he remembered what was its constellation guide.

Ikki stared, terrified as a member of MOIG before the Gay Pride.

- ... Shun, put away those chains mystical. Now! -

.

Chinese Walnut White Sauce

The BigDamnTable

Good evening. Get it seemed only right to begin with republication of the Big Damn Table. I do not will never end, at least to what is saying, but you never know. Certainly much will review the upcoming fanfictions, in light of its evolution as fanwriter. And above all, will review the very character of Ikki: he realized, reading, which was very OOC. o.o;; In the end, will be republished on the spot the two fanfics that were deleted from EFP. * The player does not feel guilty *.
soon.

001.	Top .	002.	Intermezzo.	003.	End	004.	interiority.	005.	appearance.
006.	hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Verde.	015.	Blue
016.	Porpora.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black	019.	White.	020.	Without colors.
021.	friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Sons.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Alba.	032.	Sunset.	033.	too.	034.	too little.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	hearing.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Vista.
041.	forms.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Diamond.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Stars.	047.	Hearts.	048.	Quadri.	049.	Flowers.	050.	Spades.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Supper.	059.	Food.	060.	drinks.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Estate.	064.	Fall.	065.	seasons.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightning.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Darkness.	075.	Shadow.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082. If	.	083.	E.	084.	him	085.	Lei
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	job.	090.	House.
091.	Birthday	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Free Choice: Horizon	097.	Choice.	098.	Choice.	099.	Choice.	100.	Choice.

Personal Characteristics Of Anesthesiologists

debut

Good evening to all.
are Dylan the Banshee, and this is Spectrephonia , the additional account of my player, shin_temperance , who apparently preferred to ... delegate to me the management of this account. * Sighs, as if he were to do *

The function of this site is simple: will the personal archive in which the player collects his stories, his literary experimentation, his characters under construction. Does not have many claims, and was probably created in a long evening of boredom but to keep order in the cacophonous head fanwriter same. The navigation is simple, just check the tags on your right: are comprehensive enough.
Please note that the characters and the stories still unpublished will be accessible only to friends , as will be published privately.
It also points out that everything will be posted here belongs to shin_temperance and can not be reproduced without his consent. If you wish to review a story outside of LiveJournal-action and would no doubt gladly accepted-please make this known to the author or by sending a message either on site or at andromeda_hime [AT] live.it.
What else? Make yourselves at home , and good luck.

Dylan Lawrence Dunkin, Spectre of the Banshee

Where To Find Prams On Sims 2

freedom and participation. Once upon a time

"I want to be free, free like a man.
As a man who needs
to space with their imagination, and finds this space

only in its democracy.
who has the right to vote and passing
his life to delegate, and accept control

has found its new freedom.

Freedom is not star on a tree,
not even have an opinion,
freedom is not free space,
Freedom is participation. "







October 25, 2009

Balloon Tower Defence 4 Not Blocked

pumpkin, Back


Mi faccio una sonora risata.
*parte risata sarcastica*
Mi ricompongo e sospiro. No, non sono scomparsa per sbaglio; l'amara verità is only one: the video driver of the peak was playing. Really cool.
am shocked: I turned on the computer, waited a few seconds, and the screen was decorated with lovely red and black vertical stripes. After all my attempts to use it went to hell, then I took my baby from St. Matthew, who was on vacation just in the last week of August. Well, today I have my poor little hard to believe and still have it between my legs again evil * O *
But there is a positive factor in all this trouble: I have a video card even more powerful. E 'to be passed by GeForce 8800 to 9800, which Salton Shows * O *

small negative factor: I have deleted a lot 'of data T ^ T But that was bad luck, lady sum. Fortunately I have kept up the key story written for Hiko, yet to be published, and Maybe Tomorrow by Princess, more various other materials. I'll have me to do and rolling up my sleeves, my screen canoodle dispassionately reborn.

Two things worthy to be told, let alone the history argument - quite gruesome.

First
A couple of days ago I was having dinner with my parents and my sister. Browse the report on the news of soccer, with a wide overview of the various players migrated to other lands, far away from Italian clubs.
appears, of course, Ibrahimovic and the holy journalist refers immediately to Mou and his brave resistance to Inter, but without the magic touch of IbraKadabra. Auks I comment, shaking his head in old regretted:
"Poor, poor Ibra."
My sister asks, "Why?"
"He no longer his coach." Mumble without any desire to explain the matter. My mom adds
do with pedantic: "Eh ... - Moment of rest - they love each other. "
As if nothing had resumed drinking, while I look in the way you look at a monk seal intent to comb his hair.
My God. My mom said a pearl of wisdom simply spectacular, from fangirl purist, not to mention his expression pleased and vaguely complicit. I love it, there is little to be done.
'Ma', and I understand each other on the fly. "Cabbage, sometimes I wonder about all this XD
At that point my father shakes his head and, although he does not want to show it, chuckles. He knows less than my mom about what I write and argue with passion, but something you know. My mother knows everything.

§ Small quotes of my father, just because this man understands all too *-*

Me: "Tonight is a beautiful film, a must see!"
Pa " ; Just do not be another film about ricchioni or people of color "

Me:" Wait, there was a film that had a soundtrack of Abba songs. Ah, yes, Priscilla, the ship of the desert "
Pa:" It 's the one with transvestites, coach. "(Lapidary and known)
Me:" Cabbage ... yes! (Surprised)
Pa: "That's the return ricchioni."

Pa: "I already know what they will do the two of them grow up. Elena became a nun, a social worker Frank."
The idea of Helen as a nun was quite ironic, given the character, but I as a social worker ... no, in that case was not joking at all ° °''

Second
I looked at purely random choices of EFP stories. We have added several of Tuailait and it surprised me a lot. So I went continue to look at the list and I saw that, miracle of miracles, have been included so many talented writers of fiction about Naruto. I was really moved.
And then ... the final thrust. Four of my stories have been included among those chosen. Falling Away With You, Obon Matsuri, Rain and 39 occasions. All this makes absolutely no sense: I still believe and think, because it is impossible that such a thing happened, maybe something is jammed in the site ; when I take it to a well-organized scherzone XD
stories have appeared Rekichan, Ainsel, Princess, and Hotaru Key_Sayu mainly, see these names ... it was really good. I wonder what happened in those days, I must have missed something

° O ° I hope to update about things left unresolved. Tomorrow morning I'll start with me feel the forum

XD PS: I realized only with the previous post has not added Pri between friends, when I was a strategic rather convinced that I did. I ask forgiveness, fortunately on this occasion I remedied

Tikes Country Cottage Playhouse

Water 2 Water


Some considerations on the previous post:
1) I just uploaded this morning to line problems
2) The work spaccaschiena led me to fill three buckets of nine liters.
3) But again, it was the washing machine in the middle regime

There must be a solution to this waste ..
kill rhinos more! They drink like the damned bastards!

Safenet Sentinel Pu-760

Tonight, for the second time I flooded my home.

You know, you nonexistent readers, given my considerable finances and the fact that my house has more than one hundred years, there is the appropriate hydraulic connection in the wall to enter the discharge of the washing machine.

To save money on plumbers, masons and the like, I'm pleased to include the appropriate tube, in the bathtub next to them and subterfuge has worked properly.

This first

Recently I came to improve the schiribizzo visual conditions at home to something better than a monk's cell or a mansion

Spartan ...

Ha! insidious vanity!

.. and therefore I find myself increasingly doing strange things, such as use as the storage room to guest room, thinking of repainting the living room and listen, listen, look for light bulbs in the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling peaceful.

If you're not careful, we will report on a magazine of home furnishings ..

view of my new way, I decided to hide the pipe behind the washing machine that, when not in use, for purely aesthetic reasons ..

Which host would not want to see a nice exhaust pipe into the tank in which to wash?

.. but this involves having to remember to readjust when needed.

And here I return to the starting line of this comment.

I had just finished watching "Lions for Lambs" (a film I recommend at least some issues raised) and peaceful, I started in the kitchen (which adjoins the bathroom) only to find half-flooded with the bath

That beat because he is completely flooded

While I was busy cleaning the mess with a bucket and rag ..

I should note for the second time "

.., consuming and tiring, I have had in mind several things

First, that the housewives of the past deserve a monument

Secondly, that you were arranging lasting damage to his back and legs

.. Third: I do not I never stopped to consider the enormous amount of water used for washing.

I was doing a washing machine in power save mode, half full, but posing casually looked on a pack of nine liters of drinking water that was in my kitchen, I it became clear that not would never be enough to cause quell'allagamento.

Probably no two packs.

Now I do not want to read the manual for your washing machine to control the exact consumption, but they are nothing short of I am amazed to see that (I do a washing machine a week on average) use more water than they would in a week, two adult men.

Or maybe an elephant in an afternoon ..

I admit, I am quite baffled. There must be a better solution to such a waste!

kill more elephants, of course!

course it is possible that the water that comes in plumbing for a washing machine itself is not drinking water and once escaped from my house, within an elaborate process of purification that will make it usable by future generations.

But the event attracted the curiosity in me and I just wanted to write my immediate impressions, as a starting point for future inspections.

And even for half an hour to escape the chore breaks back ..

Yes also for

Club Penguin Accounts 2010

This is my first post on LJ (excluding fiction) * _ * panic blank page ... well, I take this opportunity now to put under the cc signature I made for dylan_mx (which alone will be passing through here Y__Y).
That said I'm leaving, good afternoon XD that unnecessary intervention.





This work is published under a Creative Commons License

How To Cancel La Fitness Membership 2010

[original] The Heat of the rain

Title: The warmth of the rain.
Fandom: Original .
Characters: not have a name >__>
because when I read the prompt, I was inspired ^ __ ^ and

dylan_mx
for reading it and giving me advice (which I did not follow but nothing XD joke).
The warmth of the rain "It was a dark and stormy night" writing as if I were to tell this autumn night ... It is now past the time of the typical summer storms, so even the lightning break the darkness of the sky. 's three and something in the morning, I woke up in pain and troubled by nightmares do not remember, my mouth was mixed and a thirst that grew crazy every time concentrating on listening to rain on the roof, so I decided to stop trying to sleep and came into the kitchen. light of this room is so cold at night, seems too strong ... twinges of pain from bruises that start casually continue to bump into the furniture. The rain shows no signs of quitting, is one of those rains that continued until dawn in the morning and makes gloomy but sweet at the same time, one of those mornings that you appreciate if you can stay in bed embracing the person you love but which is devoid if you have to get up for work. I am part
the first category, if I go back to sleep tomorrow will be a peaceful slumber, curled up in a duvet and hugged him .. if I can sleep again ignoring the pain. People are strange, spends his life complaining about the woes caused by the rain but at the same time he needs, and that water from the land that is torn by that water is fed, they could not do less. I can not resist, I open the window over the sink and leaned a bit ', took a deep breath of moist air that night and I am staring at the dark companion. The warmth of the quilt is really nice, I slip under the blanket and hold her arms around his waist, breathe regularly and his back is so hot under the pajamas of cotton. The last thought that comes to mind before they sink into my consciousness in sleep is that the man I love and who now sleeps next to me is like the rain, for me devastated and hurt I could never live without the certainty to wake up looking at his face.

Mirtazapine Joint Muscle Pain

Genesis


I have always been opposed to write diaries or give my thoughts as food to the network
I'm writing a diary and I'm giving my thoughts as food to the network
I will shortly have three blogs, a personal website, I joined seven community and spend hours reading the vissicitudini of people who spend most of their lives to the PC.

sad for the readers certainly
Why do I do?
to put my thoughts in order ..
because
to exorcise the demons that live there obviously.
I tend to analyze the information I received from my personal experiences (cold, logical, rational and healthy) and I (irreverent, tedious, infantile, idiot) ..
Thanks, but it is clear that you are a part (even if an idiot is my favorite derogatory! Since I saw Passion and I doubled up with laughter, and I said "That's an insult with a history! ") .
.. and through this comparison, I reach certain conclusions, some of which in my view useful and positive.
but I realized that I have issues analyzed and stored before, often, again, with new perspectives and time (as the mind, that archive is imperfect) I am blown away, without being able to export the logical process that had brought me to my conclusion.
Maybe because it was the logical process of his buggy ..
I can not do anything if the means at my disposal to assess the outside world are inadequate and imperfect.
're giving me the inadequate?? feel beautiful mom ..
In any case, my final goal is to transcribe these my processes as they occur and thus have a tool at my disposal to recover them at my leisure.
you let me a note? Please

If, like many, you not keep this diary, begun on the impulse of the moment, what our friends think readers?
That you are devoid of logical processes?
First, I have no readers, and do not try.
Second, I never cared what others think
Third, take off that grin off the face
If you do not care about what others think, I can mention your name and maybe your home address?
For now the debate is over
Good Answer

Does Andy Sixx Have A Dog

Each entities associated with the law of retaliation an opposite.

the white black.
warm the cold.
In light of the sun, the darkness of the night.
acres perfume smells sweet.
the man perpetually dissatisfied with a pain in the ass .
the woman an indolent nature.

a busy road a garden, as vast as uneducated and yet ordered, in its being inhabited by dozens of dissimilar plants.

The child had always thought that if there was hell, well, inevitably there was also a paradise.

saw it. In that garden.
It did not bother to shake hands with his mother, not really, of his hands so dirty and full of already Calloni only three years old, to lash out at the door.

lashed. It did not matter if you do not know. That

beyond. The one where a look at that puppy looked festive and where, by golly, had also a small-so small basket from seeming to be put there for him.

What perhaps because it seemed to have the kind face and was similar to him all dirty-ground, his face red as only those who work long hours exposed to the sun-could perhaps explain what it meant, then, what the heck that his mom kept saying after almost choked. Mrs.

-time high, it seemed, when in fact it was moderately low-listen, his mother.

Listen to his mother to ask for charity, some food for him and if, just if , even for her. It is so hot. Mom says it goes by quickly, but he prefers it that way, rather than sleeping in the cold.

Sidewalks are warm at night. Release the heat of the day, even if it rains.

It is strange, the lady in the garden, not only because it rushes into the house to stock up on food to give it to them but listen to his mother. The careful, seems to respect, the grimace which mum when she asks for help. The

listen even say that it went to the priest of the nearby church-the church is a mother, her name just like that-that's expulsion, arguing that it can not help you, he did not give a roof over your head all.
Or, went to the social services, have been told that Italian is not so, in fact, there is nothing for her.

And he just does not understand this thing, why do not you think that being Italian's so beautiful. Or that it seems easy to be, because it is something that deserves to be. There birth.

And you can not decide where to be born.

And he rails, baby. Against a can of peas , three years, without knowing that they will suck, cold. Scale is because my mother said it was good food and will definitely like the juice, so fresh, the lady gave him, among the good things.

Then mom says. Again. Who does not want to be there, which has the proven. But the sister has just been made, in Poland, and need money. So they left.
They tried, in fact. But she is too frail to make the carer.

Not looking good, too thin, too aftto and who does not eat and is not afraid to dirty that helps.

Fa hello, my mother now. The lady. Thanking you. And taking away the child, close in hand with her.



The lady was the of my mom. The garden was my garden (which, to tell the truth, no longer wild and is becoming a jewel, day after day). And peas move an unhappy idea, essentially, on the security that they go bad in hot weather, unlike the flesh.

do not know why I wrote it. Some things hurt even see, let alone share it with others. But it happened. No fairy tale.

no invention here.

And I do not really explain it. The reason I say. I think it's peas.

Yeah, the peas. And James. That makes it difficult to finish his milk in the morning and that when the reprimand ranting about world hunger I fuck a "Do not break, if people are hungry not my fault" .

But what escapes here, at most, is that when problems are so great, even on who is to blame or not becomes irrelevant. That the only culprit, capable of being pointed out, it must be acknowledged in a government that denies that humanity, by returning to the boat with the poor souls, in all probability, will be gunned down just shall put foot on land again. Or maybe in a church (which, incidentally, is Mary the Mother Church, this', just that in Ronchi, via Redipuglia) spending, gossip fresh on Sunday morning, the collection offers the purchase of new benches for the faithful.

This is compared. Immedisimazione. Strive for once, not to offset the eye. To support the powder dry eyes and mucus of a three year old child whose only crime is to be born at the time and wrong place.

And so again. Of immigration bill and everything else.


PS: The job market is too flexible to take just anyone knocking on our doors. I'm fine.
emphasize, however, is not the right way to solve the problem.
To do this, simply cut funds of dictators, a true vacuum of our speakers a-Qaddafi, for one thing.

Or, better yet, put an end to speculation on raw materials in African countries (look at Espresso Article May or thereabouts, on bond France / Niger I think it was on the nuclear / oil). Do not call customers but ask those who go to hoes (I will forgive the vulgarity, but when it takes we want) because what is (and it does not matter if a high board or distributed on the streets) and mothers do not return in search of easy money for sick children in their countries.

Ah. Do not impose penalties for illegal work.
directly seize the good. Because if you do not issue invoices nor pay the contributions for an employee are not a wise guy but a fool substantially. What if he dies under the knife because the doctors do not have the gauze because lack of state money, is also too little

Senior Week Myrtle Beach House

Base or Base? This is the problem

It 's a bit silent and that in principle I should continue my work, I know, I know.

fact is that bothers me open the Journal and it empty new thoughts. Loses its meaning and my good policy for the next month, is to leave no stone unturned to chance, so ... je suis ici, mes love.

The Easter holidays were refreshing but, you know, nothing in four beautiful Giornetti school can not be remedied. We were too relaxed instill too, as we have permission to comment on. Anyway, I had a very good idea to take me behind the computer, books and my folder to show / program / social crap, downloaded from the Internet, and requires at least one visioncina.

After long agony, my dear laptop was able to recover (with the collaboration of the mule ) two episodes of "The Eighth Nano ".

Now, I know it sounds incredible and is very " door " but there was a time when there was serious satire in Italy. Come on, do not make that face, I tell you that is so true and is as sure as if Berlusconi did not give him s'incazza dell'evasore tax but only if you tell him you should retire to make Grandpa (and looks to be true, eh?, try to take a look Mouth of the latest articles, Augias, Zucconi, dear Concy beat all the old key).

satire there, and that serious, but not rhymed with Bagaglino with Luttazzi. Blob. And, in particular, Dandini and his team. A lot of comedians Zelig made their ranks there '. People like Mr. "Chochmacher" (who once smoked the hydrangeas and the asphalt) and as the "Filipino" to demolish the house that Bisio (and which was once pisùpisù ... I think) and that man is to marry ♥ Marcorè that Blacks (and there was the Count Swaronsky and ran behind the skirts of the Countess Olga). I do not quote the Guzzanti, I take for granted that people know about them (and if you do not know them, ask yourself remedied immediately).

In particular, there was a pair of comedians "minor", for their first participation in the work of that team, two comedians who made their debut in the program thanks to a sketch that, alas, was the ancient and the secular together.

Basically, two unfortunates who were trying to reinvigorate their communist small section in Sicily, claiming the need to create a link between the base and the core executive of the then baby Olive. After several perpipezie, the two mangiabambini decided that if the base does not occur, we can only do this directly to the Chief the base, you know, maybe he had no confidence.

reached Rome, and finally managed to get their great occasion speak with one of Big .




The people, when focused how long insisted the problem of basis (which means that the basic problem ?, this is not circumvented by the undersigned in terms of members, it is avoidance of my will which is quite different, because if the first hypothesis leads to brand as communist sacrificed to the cause of the latter allows me to step on their feet and still stronger, if I scold ) will be destabilized.

think that the Italian Left, as it is conceived and designed, has no chance of redemption and, taken by the frenzy that the surrogate is a presumption underlying that is a bit 'of us all, claim to liquidate in a jiffy a perennial problem with solutions that shoot into the air.

Now go so young candidates, then away with the nominations of Deborah , let's face inside the "new" as the dear David, in the wake of that precarious not remember the name that had not even thirty years and was nominated to parliament by Veltroni.

Now. I have twenty years. And I'm living proof that the Communists do not eat children. For the first five years of age (those in which the father takes you to the zoo and the playground, so to speak) my father has meant Saturday morning cleared by the formula "Love, I'll take you to eat the ice at the House of people ".

No, I can confirm: the Communists do not eat children, and think about it, refusing even to make you do the purges because, when exhausted by papo-papo-papo-miscappalapipì/lacacca reduces me to hang his jersey to my father winding up: Treasury, two seconds, we're talking about important things, there is a problem .

It turned out that three years I've learned that make sheep's eyes at the bartender makes sure that an adult hand will lead you to pee in the bathroom and I even learned to pronounce the first sentence that makes sense, that went less: mother, who has a problem, who has a problem, who has a problem ".

Yeah. There was always a problem of basic which translated into a potential problem for my pants and, similarly, always a new problem of communication between large and small threatening to harm, to say the least of my mother, even the communicability between me and my father.

For me it is depressing, the fact that similar problems existed. Simply, it is the norm, there are increased within and I know how this who has a problem who has a problem with both controfiocchi.

Serracchiani's application is a point in favor of PD, because it is expressed with precision problems in defining the new training. However, the main spring at the base of his candidacy is nell'aspra criticism of the party structure. I tried (I confess, somewhat superficial) statements about the projects at European level, proposals for projects to be pursued not only in favor of the continent, but Italy itself to reflection.

My impression is that the Serracchiani was chosen, again, as a matter of age and freshness in verbal terms, from Electric, however, I find myself asking what are the bases from which I can move my preference for grant because it is clear that, while in agreement with the words of the Assembly of the PD, I have proposed as a candidate, once again, from the party.

Now. That the policy claims to be modernizing there is no doubt but with politics I mean not only rejuvenate the uprising dederre D'Alema ('Sera ♥ Giulia) and Bassolino but a total rethinking of 'to be political in Italy which is something quite different.

One applicant who alone has logic "to be young and think young New port" is a weak candidate because based on the same principle of the shares rose, one has to sit in parliament not because there is woman but because worthy .

This stylish "Famolo young" has the alarming for those who know her chickens, because that hides itself, and hope I am wrong, turns out to be yet another replacement of the ruling class.

Does Ringworm Treatment Cancel Out Microgynon

And the time goes by

I had promised myself to write a few lines on the trip to Berlin with a clear mind, backed by at least 13 hours of sleep and devoid of any physical disorder.

Therefore, correctly, write it after three in the morning with a sore throat worse than when I came back e. .. no, unfortunately I am glossy by default even when I drink six spirits.

say that Berlin is a city of young people.

will .

will that we visited with two teachers (which, translated, means with rather small margin of freedom in terms of time and in terms of improvisation).

we will have to stay in a hotel about an hour from Alexander Platz, and perilous, in East Berlin that seems much less vibrant than the western (and who knows why ...).

that will remain effective for about three days we had a rain cats and dogs, another with hail and snow storms, and another in which the sun hath been finally deigned to check out.

will.

Berlin is a city that should be visited under the pretext of looking for the beautiful . Berlin, beauty - exquisitely nell'accezione literally-has very little.

Flats fifties alternate constructions of matrix clearly Nazi in their solemn Sfregola against the sky where the clouds chase each other so much quicker than if only a second before you could cheer for a sunbeam, that after you fold so that you get a hailstone in the face.

I could say that Berlin is peacemaker art, everywhere you turn you can lay eyes on the works of pop art and wonder, how to blend neoclassical art without jarring with expressionist art.

agree only in part, because While it is true is not the essence of art to be constitutive of the city in question, what really makes you put your nose out of your room, with a wind speed of 180 km / h makes you grace to make you do a second shower, is the fact that, in Berlin, you can really perceive.

The weight of history, I say.

You can get your hands dirty with the error. Can you feel it, almost, that node that will occlude the throat, in touch with the look of the walls of the Reichstag. You can give to you and spins you print clear, crisp , the picture of parades and stunts performed by twin girls with blonde braids.

Berlin not to visit the art; Berlin did not visit it for fun, Berlin visit to be aware that the story is as alive and present there.

And you do not understand at first. You walk in those gray streets and you can not explain why you seem so hostile that city. Walk and do not understand what it is that sense of oppression that makes you look annoyed other students laughing in front of the Topography of Terror. Walk in and you can not understand why, as unfounded, and a fine one Caramel Macchiato Muffins for lunch, hungry ?

Walk and you can not focus on the good things.

that gray penetrates you to the bone, along with cold and rain.

And then?

So I do not know (and right now I feel the voice of Julia in my ears telling me that, after this, the myth of Vale who always knows everything has gone along with that fucked up That speaks well of ).

Really. I do not know how the hell should I label it, Berlin.

should probably invent a new adjective for her.

Probably you just have to visit it again, to seize it in its entirety.

Probably.

What Machine Works Out Your Triceps

relations and horoscope

Times have changed. The time is ripe. Yes We Can. Yes We Change.

Mh. Not really.

I have the good habit of healthy on Friday morning buying my beautiful copy of Republic and sipping the wonderful stained Ms. Lilly. The act of reading is often disturbed, of course, a little 'because sgom Sara, a little' because between Parliament and a little 'because Emy is always instill a ass and you can not expect much.

But they arrange, that is. Republic is not only a way to silence my guilt over what little it is, now, my reading activities but, above all, is becoming a pleasant collective ritual.

Go into class, you end up browsing the headlines, shooting some vitriolic comments that are certainly, will be collected by someone who is arranging the coats behind your back. Separate newspaper from Friday and pass without even raising his eyes to Teo, in front of you. Then there is the community reading the horoscope, the downcast eyes with Trevi because even on that Friday, the fish says everything and nothing.

"thou hast learned something?"
"No, shit, you?" * Resigned look
/ ironic *
"'It is what sucks"
"Yes"
"And every Friday, however, we read"
"Aha-Aha"

* silence * "But it seems very sti sesseggiamo six days "
" Exactly, is' I'm shit na horoscope "

Then there is the booklet of art, a few comments with Liz and Julia, to what would be nice to go and see this and it would be nice to go see that.

I do not want to continue to talk about this, however, point first because, if unfortunately, some of them read the blog then able to inflate the ego and we lose them down the street: P and why, in fact, I brings melancholy to think that next year certain habits end up in the toilet.

the gist is that I love the Friday morning. A little 'less on Friday afternoon when, having crossed the threshold of the house, the paper ends up in the hands of my Grandmother.

Fair and sprightly little woman that has just rounded the buoy of the eighties, after marry my two older cousins, it seems that its purpose is vital even marry myself. That can not come to his lovely niece, so cute and so alarm is, in terms of romantic relationships, a real sloth.

Yes, at age 19 played his little Valentinetti is devoid of raw material and if you just can not explain, not really, when she attended her husband at that age already (God rest his soul), not really when his grandson, then, had already presented the first guy to the whole family. And then let's talk, she who: "gha you so much sbattola, Belon, the fact you gha occupasion, legis you cuss so much, you gha a beautiful little face, ela bela" .

There is that people (and not just by the name of Grandma) tends to widen the eyes, sapendoti only. You are given that look of sadness mixed sorrow. They call you single , why say "one like a dog" does not sound so very good, ninth. We like single, single slide down the language and knows elusive, elusive. Something that, for logical sense, is cool just because unconquerable. Something perfect, because complete, as it is. Which is

a big dick, 'the story is complete. Like the women's emancipation.

Most women I know who called themselves emancipated just because no companion were then the first bend, when they found one.

No malice or desire to criticize. Only renewed fear on my part. I have an idea of absolute love, something that puts my being, the ever-changing and I hope my life reserves as a function of the other's.

plasmo me to you, because I know that you'll change over the years and years I'll change, but you know what? There I want to change because of you and there that I did not weigh for nothing.

He knows damn important. He knows he is irreversible. And do you know of something that at the time and at least for the next ten years, are not yet prepared to do, honestly.

Yes, the little woman with controcoglioni, what seems to have always the right answer at the right time, that since he was eight years speaks of the greatest institutional systems, what the controversy is par excellence, well, is terrified by the bonds .

not all. Surprise!, I believe to be a disaster in these things. Give me an article to write, give me an essay on the constitution, give me a political debate from engaging in or give me someone to haul big, but not a combinatemi appointment because I realize that I am not .

The last time I went out with a guy I should be definitely missed something (like the fact that it was not real output), given that it all ended with an elegant message that sounded much like a two spades. Indeed. It was, I think. Something like not a good reason to continue to feel or so.

Now, it is not the point. The person in question was exquisitely polite (I say this without irony, I can not even claim to have been used and thrown away, damn it: P) but rather the fact that, after the step of: me-look-the-mirror- e-lo-I-break-Diiiiio-what-I-suck and that of: my instinct is misfiring was followed by the awareness that it was overly sweet ... compared to my standards.

not get me wrong. I do not usually dripping honey, I hope it does not drip even then. Except that, between a smile and the other, probably not identified for what they really are.

And the truth is that I look around and read it in the eyes of those people who are dear to me, that would, for them, the great love. And I wonder: if I am the one who refrettaria true love I could make some noise, they?, They are like?

In love you can not correct, in love can not understand where did you wrong and correct because most of the time who rejects you (and I speak, because even I did) does not give you the real explanation, afraid / to offend your sensibilities. In love, you bring not settle, flirt in rewarding the presence of even one good quality that you recognize as such (ie, in a sense, to settle). In love there is no meritocracy and objectivity, only subjectivity, therefore, really, I wonder how my grandmother can still chase the horoscope of the week and which are listed under reports.

Yes we can, yes we change, yes we're workaohlic women's.

El dehydration that someone you risveierà curiosity-Romantic week is ".

Mh. Not really.

Ship Parts Name Diagram

Caccapupù finally moves!

Yeah, we finally found a website for the forum and the blog = D

We moved suu:

www.caccapupu.netsons.org/
www.caccapupu.netsons . org /
www.caccapupu.netsons.org/
www.caccapupu.netsons.org/
www.caccapupu.netsons.org/

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But there is that if Ma

I assume that on Saturday morning is for a good sixty percent of high school a day-ending, five hours (if you're lucky and have made thee so divine grace be spared the sixth) in which, as you can strive to maintain high concentration, will reduce disposable imploring eyes to that classmate at his watch. Hopefully, by the way, you shoot a dance like this: "There five minutes at the end "even when you know you're just the second time.

In fact, the human being is a creature who likes to delude himself and I are no exception.

In all this, we have the Saturday morning programs is subject to variables (who fishes out of my copy of the Republic "Donna D" or "Velvet", who can be the eyebrows, who still gives the schematic of the topics for the week, who preaches the various topics from the project for the evening to gossip more or less covered, who, dutiful to the end, embracing the D'Annunzio until the fifth ring of the bell), but yesterday, the modus vivendi to get out too the last hour was a nice roundup of digs up Uolter who has resigned to myself.

Hands in air (without the pass for the Congress of Delegates PD), Gentlemen, I leave the game. I know my limits and do not readily admit that I would be totally subjective to examine the matter in question. The only criticism I could turn to Veltroni is the fact that he moved to B. educolorata opposition, but then I look around, look to other international powers (Sweden, for example, America, for example) and I can not who recognize that the policy covers not only real but mostly critical courage.

in Courage does not always take into account that the real motive of a vote is in protecting their own interests.

no small matter, to think well.

Politics as conceived by us, if anything, is the remark that line that generates the classical dichotomy "Right" / "Left". The Italians have always shown a preference for statesmen "strong", able to separate white from black cover with no gray areas. I am not referring only to the highly authoritarian vision (both from the lead to dictatorship) of Mussolini, but I also think of the historical leaders of the Left as a Depretis.

The populist politics, the one that makes the demagoguery and the cult of "Truth infusion" their trump cards is the one that makes it able to attract a lot of peacemaker in his votes, because it is much easier to choose between a 'Option A and Option B, rather than contemplate a hybrid. That implies a hybrid

overview that often hard work, effort and cost considerations to browse at least once or twice a week rather than daily before finishing off the brain "Big Brother" .

Black is immediate. Black & White is now and now . Black and white is elemental, essential, makes it possible to believe that he really reached the ultimate truth of the matter and is a balm for your ego.

exercising their voting Italians do not just try to respect their right, but also the reaffirmation of their discriminating between right and wrong and, therefore, self-certification of their ability to choose / reflection.

Choose "hybrid", admit that on fundamental issues and that sticks in our real, there can be no absolute positions decisive , throw us all in suspense, it makes us feel so fragile in virtue of what is perceived as the inability of our intellect to override the problem.

But the point is just that. Politics, the real one, is to admit that yes, the league is right in saying that Italy was unable to meet the industrial work by its citizens, let alone to accept foreigners. But it is at the same time, recognize Left critical of the fact that behind every immigrant there is a man with a history of shoulder pain and that, as human as it is, wants nothing more than ensure a better of her son.

a position does not preclude the other; want voters to believe that Bossi is insensitive as to think that the voters of the Ferrero naive enough to believe that Italy is a wonderland.

Both want to solve the problem of immigration to ensure, in fact, a better and equitable distribution of work. Disagree on how to get there, but the purpose still remains the same.

With a view like that, maybe I can recuse Veltroni in the context of a confrontation / meeting with the majority?

No, I can not.

I happened, however, to widen the eyes of a pleasant surprise to find that people I know to be right so overt have blamed the way the story Englaro was conducted. Just like me and like thousands of others who yesterday expressed their contempt for the new law on end of life in Rome.

Why this clarification? Why is it important to emphasize, again, the turn taken by a government in charge of our country has violated the most intimate sphere of the citizen (pace the reputation of liberalism and B. self-affix).

Hobbes argued in his theory of Leviathan, as the state should be allowed to override the prerogatives of individual freedom. Guaranteed and the possibility, therefore, the idea of a sovereign over the laws and, in virtue of this, holder of the full right to dispose at will of individual citizens.

Hobbes was indicated by the philosophers to his posterity, as a lover of the absolutist state. That, in the historical context in which we c'inseriamo, is more or less synonymous with dictatorship.

So I can only move in Veltroni's critics want to apply the principles of good policy to be valid everywhere.

But not in Italy. Not in a state that, in leaps and bounds, it start in an increasingly greater power to un'accentramento. When you explain to school

Serviette Folding Fan

Fosse, but it was.

Kant (or, at least, is what has taken place with the dear Cinzia from me) are trying to unfold the concept of "filters" through the classic example of the pink lenses.

"Put us to the blue, green, yellow, red, the concept does not change the boys all have the same glasses, everyone sees the real in the same way" .

There must have been a manufacturing fault, all these glasses that turn to our house. Of the kind to me and another bunch of idiots who call themselves with pride balls glasses came with blue lenses. And

filobolscevica constitution (yes, those poor post-war Italy has been reduced to scrub a bit 'to all the countries bordering something, the Canenderli Austria, Slovenia and France set up Titina Courmayer or whatever the spelling). And if you are treating immigrants are reported. And Eluana and the shameful distortion of the prerogatives of the Court of Cassation. And the interception, the limit of the judiciary, defense italianity ("For Valentine's Day, do not buy exotic flowers, buy flowers with zero environmental impact" is the finest thing I've heard the Valentine's Day and that can be translated a "Take the flowers from the florist grown close to home").

But no, not enough. Now, against the rapes (which can certainly be prosecuted to the sound of by-laws because now, we all know, the decree is a bit 'as a magic wand, the next time you use the link on the opposition as well as that disappears As the decision that tried to get rid of before) is proposed that the night patrol by citizen volunteers.

What I do not know about you, but I called squads. And with squads do not mean the game of soccer or football on Sunday morning red against blue, so to specify.

But, of course, only me here I have something wrong because, guess what 'who won the regional elections in Sardinia with a lead of nine points?

Please, rather than the night patrol or toll for the social card, can I have the number for the supplier of new lenses? 'Azie.

Are Strong Mints A Laxative

It 's a question of democracy (and foam)

I've always been the idea that things can be divided into democratic and undemocratic.

Read "Republic" is democratic, because the modest price of € 1 (maximum € 1.50) criticistico train your spirit, you have the chance to vent the accumulated tension until mid-morning with people that you're fond of a "I can not believe" and "But you read it?" sheer madness! " and, perhaps, with a Marlborino between the index and middle fingers the left hand. A

Armani is not democratic, because while exuding elegance of every fiber, is not accessible to everyone.

Ice cream is democratic, because the price of 2 € reawaken a child's face and a big smile, let's talk, is not a trivial matter.

The human body is not democratic, because if everyone is given the right physical shape of the gym, do not all look in the mirror can be said of satisfaction with their nose.

The subway is democratic, you can see young girls, Vuitton trunk in hand, sit side by side with homeless people over sixty.

But what is the quintessence of democracy and the true litmus test of the country is, however absurd it may sound, the coffee.

Now.

admit that my being a hopelessly caffeinomane statements involve a vision of the part (and indeed it is), but I think, at a price of € 0.90 (should be pretty much the figure, the coffee I drank in the last two months, I have always been offered are not so tied up with inflation) you can sit at a table, stay for a considerable period of time and have a chat with nice people in front of you-or at least presumed to be such if we you get out. "

Priced at 90 cents you can look around, guess who's lives are busy figures on the balcony, leafing through a newspaper curled at the edges, swinging his head absently humming the song that the radio broadcasts at low volume.

is not a small pizza or a sandwich or a sandwich (that sort of thing that mothers forbade you at the bar except in exceptional cases, because the snack you could do at home and you feel so far guilty to buy back, memories setbacks), but a pleasure for everyone, even the elderly begging at the station, raise the coins collected in the last three hours.

remember that no more than a few months ago, in Mestre, I spotted a row and, you know, when you line up the only pastime that lends itself to being carried out is to look around. My eye fell on a woman who has had no more than seventy years, his hair reduced to broken wires and blackened faces, a little 'for the smog, a little' for the poor personal hygiene, a little 'because I suppose it was December and cleanse it with the icy water of the public toilets would take at least a pneumonia.

The eye, a fat blue, was barely peeking in the network of wrinkles that are issued along the lines of the face and bend the corners of his mouth into a smile lost. He moved with uncertainty in the room, with the caution characteristic of someone entering a home that is not is his. You could almost get the impression that a perceived sense of awe even to the package of potato chips on his right.

We tend, a little 'for empathy and a little' to genuine curiosity, to be unable to offset the scenes look like (and presumptuously think it's a beautiful thing, I am anxious to get used to the idea of scandal in the fact that we are in 2009 and there are still people unhappy) and I, alas, am no exception. If

nie noticed. I watched that, I say. Hath been approached, holding out his hand, the static smile on his face and eyes that seemed to look at your picture without collecting really.

"You have a euro? For a coffee, only a € ".

I was tight stomach. And not to request that, needless to say, was instantly satisfied, as to the knowledge that if there was no money necessary to stain, let alone to get something more substantial.

I thought about the diets of the models that are high on cocaine and cafes to escape the hunger cramps. I thought the heat ephemeral that a cup can be transmitted to the fingers. And I thought that if in my country even a single human being could not afford a coffee, then we were really fruit. I did not know, but my assumption would be to some extent confirmed by newspapers and magazines that in a few months, they started talking about the mortgage crisis first and then recession. A speck, a litmus test.

I gave her € 2 and I invited her to climb in a row, repeating once again that coffee is the most democratic in the world exists.

€ 0.90, you can look around, guess who's lives are busy figures on the balcony, leafing through a newspaper curled at the edges, swinging his head absently humming the song that the radio broadcasts at low volume. A macchiato

to download the conscience.

And the illusion, for the remainder of the afternoon, there is some sort of brotherhood or real cohesion among the people Italian.

Super Glue For Stainless Steel

Envy, or want to break?

We missed a lot, we know.
But apparently, there are people who were not sympathetic (besides Vash SD h).

fact someone in addition to having created a blog much like Caccapupù and former BoiateFree , has also decided to go around shooting shit about us.

You can read an interesting article that contains exactly rubbish here: treefree.blogfree.net /

But now, let's all comment and respond to these "Journalists"

"Yes, the Blog Caccapupù was closed by the staff of a circuit couple of days ago. "
Probably this is the only sentence that says something truthful.

"After many controversy with the support forum forumfree.net and all offenses against users Nus and Mikey, several times, the staff decided to close it like the old blog" ; Free rubbish "
seem to have talked with the staff of ForumFree.net , also because we closure by the staff motivate differently. If you want to know the motivation so we're removed you can see it here (last post ): 209.85.129.132/search
Certainly not for that kind of crap there ( At this also would be banned Mikey, just look at what he had signed in a few days ago ).
Oh, and all the controversy in support forum, where are they? Do you know why, we never had problems with the support forum.

"A user of Caccapupù asked via IM to one of the founder of Blog if they had closed, even though he knew that the staff had closed forumfree.net "
Uh, that cunning eh.

"The other way he answered" Yes we closed and we moved to another server, so we can do whatever ** caz it seems that no one breaks the balls. "
Ah well, at least you could say the name of who has released such information, some so false. Also because we
the first to say that we have deleted the blog, and we do not shame.

"What a dreadful! this is all hello! "
Yes, infamous , I do not think for a article like we need to delete the blog.

in the update also added something invented:

"and soon will have a server of its own."
Oh yeah? You have you decided?

Invite people who can not not to take the their cocks to inquire before you go to write publicly the rubbish, especially if they are on us: D

(Post by Kenny )