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