Denise Milani Old Set

Try One On

It 's nice to know that you may not even know things. I do not know, for example. The older I get, the more I forget. I forgot how to do it, how do you make myself, I have even forgotten how to complain. At some point, something really important to go out of my mind, like breathing ... then it will be a big problem.

I mean that there is no problem in letting a bit rusty '... that beautiful feeling of being rigid and immobile, is a good excuse. Heck how can you forget about who we were. You never can tell what comes out of a confused mind, and he actually is pale and confused. Wonder if he knows, but can not. Hinder them; that's how I want it .... nice ignorant, so that it is much easier to control. If you smoke or not smoke is the same thing, but then what is best!? Better that you do not smoke, at least there is nothing unclear in me ... even my lungs are clear right now ... it's all about health bursting myself from all my pores. Yes, I come spurted out of me, inside there is too much stuff and I understand I must be gentle and make room for all that other stuff I want to take my place neatly inside. To love me also seems right, except now out of me I do not know where to go ... I do not smoke even more. I think there inside me are having fun, after all there is plenty of space and before leaving I left everything in order. Evil! I was wrong! I must do as the babyrockstars the night before the debut concert smashing everything ... and leave a mess! Shit on me, a solution is not easy ... I was never very good at contortion acrobatics and even in spring. Shit I could at least take away something to remember or scratch with the key under the parked cars as I was leaving, but no! No balls! naaaaaaaa! If we had put a moat in front of me there I would have thrown the head. Drowning in the mud I felt fine words shouted from the windows of that filthy hole. I mean let's face it was a hole. One and eighty in height (almost) to say half a meter wide (very nearly) in some places could also call it home, there where the water is brown rice with bananas is a luxury reserved for Sunday.

The brain also wants him tonight sorties from the skull, but how do I tell him to stay? For what? A handful of dreams change that even a child with a finger in the nose and a slingshot could do. When you're a brain in short, would you aspire to better, and it looks like this is not a field of my expertise. Ste lights bother me but I can not fucking shut them down, otherwise who will then pay the workers? It 's all a patatrack as is well understood, and much more is at stake here that the grandmother's dentures.

The back is always open, no need to knock.

Holcom Shower Doors Model

ITA - Me and Alice

This is not a blog - the diary, for three months I have no time to publish some of my new short memories, but we are ready, only need a quiet moment to get here.


But what is happening these days in Japan has touched some chord within me that report directly to my childhood: I decided to write about it here live, because all I can do for Alice is to demonstrate my appreciation and friendship, hoping that this will give her a smile in these times that require courage and strong nerves.

Alice and I we were classmates in elementary school. That does not seem so great a coincidence, but, for starters, we were in smaller class ever: six from first to fifth, plus a few other comrades who have been with us a few months or just one school year. 5 girls and 1 boy, Fred, I always wonder how his years elementareschi memories, in a small all women with their staff and already pronounced temper.

And then an elementary school was not any. When I exit out of that school, I realized that none of my new friends of the medium had such an experience. Years have passed and I have not met anybody yet who has attended such a school. And I have come to believe that anyone who was a student at the Language School for Children in via Monteccucoli 2, Turin, spent five years of his childhood from 8 am to mid afternoon in an alternate world: we are all alumni of a secret school for this and share memories that no one else can understand. In our childhood were seeded of the habits that make us all alike, however different and far between us.

Our school was special: it was within a normal building, was not a school building, but you could tell by the way what were the windows of our classes because they were decorated with the seasons and holidays. On the sill of each class grew the plants grown from seeds placed in cotton and climbed the branches stuck into the sweet potato a plastic bottle. There was only one section, A, in all, we were perhaps eighty, in the refectory at lunch we were all sitting on three long tables. Lunch came with Antonia straddle the metal and announced that at first there was the White Pasta, Pasta Red pasta and then a third that was rather special, changed every day and went from the Cappelletti with Pesto Pasta with cream.
(I remember once we have committed ourselves to eat three meals each in turn: white, red and pesto, to several times the Italian flag. We are who we were young patriots). Of a second each of us was provided with lunch-box (which I have always called petanziera up to the age where I realized etymology) on which was inscribed the name and surname: Before you go to school the mother put the food in the lunch-and then Antonia and her maids in the kitchen heating up the dishes and carried them there. If the mother did not gave you the lunch-box, you paid the ticket to get the sticks or hot dogs or philadelphia Findus. Obviously lots of hot dogs hunted the ticket and were most ready to give in stews, meatballs, steak and anything else of their lunch-box, bartering with sausage ticket.
After lunch there was a time that we had to look at Quark, and to me the episodes with insects were back up any meal and food flask.
Every month we went on a school trip with the coach of Vigo, We had a label pinned on him by his full name and address of the school could be a trip out of Turin or went to museums in the city. Every year or so we had to the Museo del Risorgimento. Until I checked the syringes in the fields, we went to recreation in the gardens of the citadel, sitting down on the cannon of Pietro Micca and playing the Cat's Eye. Every month the teachers will have a party with performances, songs, dances, sets and costumes made by us. I liked acting so much. And I hated the teacher so much Pierina, who seemed a mountain climber, and on the first day of school, after having made us sing the Old boot much time has passed You can relive many memories Tuuu had decreed that I was hopelessly stonata.Nella our school the teachers but not teachers called Miss. Miss Susan was my favorite teacher of English, we put the stars of gold, silver or bronze on the drawings of animals and objects with the name in English and Italian and then added 10/10 very good. There was also a conveyor belt, which carried the mayor's band type, depending on the discipline required to week, and who took her was the class president. I remember there were 3 colors for 3 rows and consequent responsibility. Our school giving a lot of room for creativity: I think they always return home with dirty hands to the side of markers, paints and crayons. We girls had to take an apron long dark blue and buttoned back, a jacket to males of the same color it was probably a choice of director is to avoid soiling his clothes as we were constantly immersed in glues and colors and glitter, or to avoid realize as we were dressed and make any comparisons. On second thought now was a brilliant thing, because none of us knew if the other company had the best of the sweatshirt or jeans of 012 or more. But in those days, the first thing I wondered when we went to school with was whether we could take off the apron!

In this set of school characteristics, there was me and Alice. Alice was in tune and I was out of tune, while I had her solo voice instructions by Pierina open and shut in time. But both liked to write and perform. I remember once we had to make parts for both Cinderella and her stepmother wanted to do because we suck the recipient of the role of Prince Charming. This time the spuntai as Alice because I was the first of the class, Miss Susan gave her the most important part, that of Cinderella.

After the fifth to the language, we went to different schools, lived in Turin and the opposite, we reviewed only once, for a single class dinner organized in the first year of university by Silvia, another of our Class 6. I remember that I spoke recently with Alice that night, told me who studied languages \u200b\u200band was a little 'surprise, because in the end always being the first class I was expecting a little' stupid, that he had chosen astrophysics. However, of all languages, he chose the equivalent of astrophysics: the Japanese.

A couple of years ago, while surfing on Facebook, which had suddenly become fashionable in Italy, I saw the profile of Alice in the area where you report what you know. I do not remember who asked the two add the atrium. I remember I went instead to wander on his blog, and discovered that she was married she, like me, a foreigner and who had already had a child, Yui. Start each time, more than anything else commenting Facebook on our states, our photos .. we never told what we've done over the past 20 years, our petty everyday shared virtually gave each a more or less of what does and what kind has become another. We are both mothers married to foreigners, expats ... there would be enough to say that we have issues in common, but the fact that they were both students of the language is still something more.


The other days I was very tired, my husband was away for several days in the U.S. and my daughter had her first bronchitis, I was tired as only mothers expatriate without help and without a car can be. I looked on the computer if I had messages, that the only company in recent months is that which comes from my virtual friends scattered elsewhere, and I found it to Meme, who lives in South Africa and asked me if my friend was doing well in Japan. Why? What happened in Japan? It was lunch time and I still had not had time to watch the news ... as it opened the page in another window corriere.it same PC I had already loaded the Facebook Wall of Alice, who wrote the star well, she and her husband and child. From that day

Alice lives with emergencies that the earthquake has generated and also spends energy to reassure me and all those who ask about. As evidence that the strength of a mother, every time it seems impossible do more, increase it further. And, I like to think, like me, she pulls out her new strength from inner creativity, the creativity that we have been taught to cultivate in the secret world of language.

If you want to read about her, this is his blog http://allegroma.blogspot.com/

Tech Decks Online Game

Hit and run ...

Two new pages

active on the blog ... hit and run and away! Directories fast food places and they deserve with a preview on future reviews. Still in progress of course: because you can not review everything, but for those who deserve a mention fast you can always do.

Dental Sample Cover Letter

1991

he sees it. It rotates in the "lap" around the track in opposite direction to her, to pass several times. Game looks ... on the third lap, just the tops, turn, she turned around and looked at him smiling, while continuing to walk hand in hand with her friend. In the next round is in front of him with a big smile. After a few minutes the two are at the bar, sipping a vodka-lemon fishing.

"What a mess here. Why do not we sit for a moment, to speak more comfortable? "he says pointing to a bench in the rear.

"Occhei" she says.

followed half an hour of lemonade Hollywood, with access first so then more resolute of his hands under her skirt. After him, the bar, so stained with lipstick to look like a clown, calls "a piece of paper and a pen" to the bartender, so pinning a phone number with six digits.

2004

he sees it. The calls to the table that held that evening with friends to do some 'sborone it too, because it's fashionable. She is dancing, but accepts giving up her friend at the track.

'Champagne? It enhances the taste of strawberries "he says, citing Richard Gere.

"Only strawberries, thanks, I have just restored the license" she squeaks.

talk some more, 'then he does dictate the number of the phone, sending a ringing now "so you also have mine."

2010

you see it.

'Hey hello, I have contacts in the Face! Cristina Ferrari, "him.

"Cri Bella. From the time he gets there online, so we chat a bit ','

"Occhei, hello"

Buying A Used Trailerontario

IMMORTAL

Petit Prince pumped bad sull'Alpine Tex. The evening had gone luxury, he was fleeing with his friend Cisco Ozone and two unknown girls in Parma. The sequencer

arabesque electronic loops, the notes coming down to get you, then reared madly and flew away. Up and down, up and down while holding down plastic on his back all stupid and robust. A performance of music. Equalization of the Alpine small strobe lights dancing neon colored liquid acid. At regular intervals the bars glow seemed to merge, then briefly was replaced by a written "ALPINE" that flash in time with techno. The chicks then squealed, attracted by the flashes of light like magpies. At this thought

Tex when he was distracted by cachinno coming from the rear seats of Opel, "Ooh-ooh-oh oh oh-oh!" It was

Parma, still made the journey by night to a month before Cocoricò , said it was the anthem of the coconut and if you sang all the songs. Cisco, sitting in place of the dead, and some time waiting for the right hook to launch the final attack, took advantage of the moment-Riccione.

"But it came down very, Coconut?"

After a moment of silence, the laughter of the girls left. Cisco shit ever shot: it was like asking if on the A1 towards Riccione, Mid-August, had seen the machines.

"I mean, fuck, have you fallen?" Corrected Cisco, embracing the head restraints in front and fasten them all seriously.

"Chiaaaro! No? "The blonde said with pride by making a peak, while the other, whose name was then Erica, she continued to mumble the Big Babol bigusto with closed eyes, shake his head to the rhythm of the Little Prince barbarian Netherlands.

"Mitsubishi!, 'The blonde said Manu, composing.

"I want a half a heart? Now?

Here, the silence lasted more; Tex saw in the mirror and you were staring, gavotte plan between them.

"Yes," was the verdict of Manu, "we have you here?"

The request was a bit lost 'in the air, because part of the war drums "Capricorn" 20 Hz and all shouted at once. Tex then turned to the girls with the transparent bag in his right hand and sneer diavolesco "Seeeee," All

shouted again, while the deep bass of the upbeat "Capricorn" gave fire to the dust explosion tribal . Outside, the aerodynamic wedge of the Calibra penetrated the quiet of that Saturday night fresh Emilia.

Cisco decided to open the bar for a skyscraper essential gin-tonic, "The need throw-down with gin and tonic, or blindside you worse, "he explained once a Roman who said he had attended rave parties in London. They arrived at the local Opel parked right in front of large windows of the scratch, then went inside. They went into the room in the basement and wet heat, tropical wrapped them in a sweaty embrace. It was not unpleasant. The clientele was mixed, as every Saturday night, post-punk uniform of black leather, jocks in yellow jacket, ascot and English shoes, a tribe of clubbers on a war footing, in MiniMini pussy stretches of golden handbag and a bit ' of forty drunken ruttante any such marks. The halogen lights dimmed to draw a veil of shadow merciful on the filthy floor of cream donut and black footprints of amphibians. The trunk of a palm tree in green foam was smashed by a fist. But all in all, the atmosphere was comfortable. They headed to the bar. Cisco dodged with a flash flood of the vomiting Lillo, a fortified town that nobody had the courage to evict from the premises, then landed in front of the bartender and ordered a single turkish gin-tonic, recommending the right proportions of alcohol with eloquent gestures the thumb and forefinger. Since advancing only two pads, the Cisco broke, gave to his disciples and said:

"the After Desenzano,"

"That techno," said Tex.

Then the pitcher

swallowed a mouthful of gasoline-tonic. The plan was simple and proven: it showed the chicks to be tough, beautiful loads, inexhaustible, so then those could never come. The real goal now was key, of course.

"From there ...?" Said the Erica.

"With Calibra come in forty minutes,"

"Dàai are the four ..."

"It's an After, no? Start the morning. And Coco-girls are you? "

Cisco had pressed the" PRIDE "and now the omelet was made: the Manu dropped the pitcher with a mouthful of gasoline and announced," OK! "

Cisco was just an asshole. The pastes were for Friday evening. And then you treat the after would cost at least a hundred bags Benz, highway and the entrance ticket. Tex smacked his palm on his forehead: "Fuck you! I remembered that tomorrow I've got the tennis tournament. "

The girls did not seem too upset, so after a while 'the idea was shelved in Desenzano viaggione without remorse.

Meanwhile, the stomach acid into action to dismantle the magic of Cisco crescents. The porous surface crumbled quickly, freeing the last molecules of MDMA. LEGO bricks as organic, began to woo the receptors dopamine brain of four.

pastes went great. Cisco and Tex had already dropped to one, but the pitcher had reopened the Skyscraper games: they all need music now. They left the bar and jumped on Calibrate. The Alpine spread quickly warm wave of low subsonic. Balsamic. In a piece of DJ Hooligan, a booming voice declaiming that "the sixth day, God created the Techno, the seventh day, God began to dance." All seemed to be the voice of God

Tex walked to the ring. Speed. God continues to speak to the people of Calibra, said that had created the low and even the synth to make them dance. For each sentence in the techno-god, the sluts cry rose from the rear seats. Cisco seems to have forgotten the main goal: playing with the frequencies of the equalizer, with the average, low, high, just like Nigel, DJ dell'Ozone.

They were all dancing. He left a piece of Cosmic Baby bipiemme a hundred and fifty, and URL that came from their throats seemed modulated harmony of synthesizers, magically. Tex was also a hundred and fifty, on the freeway. The engine breathed well sedicivalvole the Calibra in the cool of the night. "Lost in Love" from Legend B entered the mix, like a bazooka insinuates itself in the armor of a tank just before it exploded. The Calibra seemed to move in time, target the distant future, and the lights of the night as the stars streak outside the porthole of the Millennium Falcon in Star Wars.

Pause for the roles. Cisco regained control and began to bargain for a spaghetti night at the home of Eric, who had mum and dad separated and an apartment of his own. The C-60 departed relentless, with one hundred fifty-five bipiemme Yves Deruyter shot. Tex reacted to the speed of the music in a more than proportionate: you sat hundred and seventy. All, however, seemed to be still stuck. Two hundred, eighty, ninety, fine bypass.

Tex turned the Calibra, then went on the ring road, this time towards Parma. After the usual lengthy consultation, the girls had given the green light to the idea of \u200b\u200bspaghetti night. Cella, Calerno, S. Hilary, Parma Via Emilia was a superstring of accelerated electrons. In the parking lot of a nightclub in St. Hilary did a bit 'of drifting in circles to make the girls laugh, Tex then pulled the hand brake, turned around and soft drinks a bit'. But the music box that Cisco had bought from Nigel Ozone was climax hardcore Dutch, Terror Traxx, DJ Paul, Stunned Guys: one hundred ninety, two hundred BPM. There could be inside, they left. The tribes of the Calibra was more than delirium, Cisco was licking the arm of Erica and the Manu, Tex's hands on his chest, the cardiac massage practiced a madman, shouting incoherent things.

Then Tex became aware of the curve. He took it late, just opposite lock, on the other side came a white van with gold tooling of a pastry shop. The Calibra swerved from one side, then the other, the scream of the tires was lost in the thunder of hardcore, then a giant hand seemed to grasp it, realigned to the right lane, inexplicably, while the truck parade, trumpeting. The girls had not seen, understood nothing, and the Formula One operation was greeted by an excited scream while Cisco, pale and attached with nails to the door, she stood silent, staring at the road without looking at his friend. He lowered a bit 'the volume of the stereo, then put on Radio Deejay, Molella, where he played the commercial.

arrived at its destination at five, swept, then Tex and Cisco greeted the girls exchanged phone numbers, took up the calibration, they stopped at the bar, newsstand, bought three beans, two caps, one Gazzetta dello Sport. Then Tex Cisco brought home, slapped a five times the Calibra, came home, he went quietly in the room, undressed, threw himself on the bed with Gazza. He slid gently into death. Congenital heart malformation, "said the coroner.

Prolexis Review Thick

DYNAMICS NEW YEAR

Pam! Pam!
'' fuck '.
Stefano De Vito turned away part, rolling between the sheets
messy and holding his head in his hands. He pressed his palms against the strong
eyes. Pem
! Pa-Pam!
took the pillow and put it under his head. It seemed that someone
themselves by inflating a basketball in his skull. And his ears
buzzed like a swarm of hornets. Pem
! Pam! Pam! Pa-Pa-Pa-Pam!
"Enough!"
not remember having eaten the entire load of a cement mixer,
the night before, but felt four hundred pounds of sand and lime in the mouth.
He had drunk a little bit, that yes, how bad of a six
English beer at room temperature, a remnant of Trebbiano, then
four scotch down Poison. About eleven o'clock began to engage
not bad, and had big plans for the evening, when the bar entered the
blonde. It was a pretty sandals, you should have seen that small tits,
all out, cone, eh guys, a trifoletta seventeen, eighteen,
class, but there is this one from Poison? It was quickly put his hand
right on the package, it was a conditioned reflex, we could not do anything, how many times
had told him to Veronica? Mica was not his fault. But
his wife knew nothing, and he did not understand a shit. He could hardly expect to
she jumped for joy when a treat so it's parried
suddenly he came from in front and touching the bird, then
was not something so serious, we might have even come over here,
she said. But the time I saw him the night bent over the child to touch everything
, Veronica ran away with the small in his arms, screaming, then that
mica was no need to make this known to the whole building, but he was just a
bit 'tipsy, and he was joking.
bicchieruccio took another just to be looser, and a
breath mints, then walked toward the girl. Perhaps his view
was not so good, or maybe it was already quite tipsy, the fact remains that it had just noticed
the dude who was with her. Occurred a little '
of words and a bit' of commotion in the bar, with the bitch who had suffered
started shouting offensive and stupid things like old shit hold down
hands make me sick, just ten minutes later he found himself
almost without realizing it in the toilet of her apartment, her face under the cold water tap
- and in December quell'acquaccia beige
least it was very cold - and all over his shirt stained with blood, his own.
Sssssssssssszzziaaaah! The long whistle
Razzett became more acute, then a flash of red light
- Pam! - Invaded the residence of Stephen, who was also
bedroom and kitchen. From the street, eight floors below, sounded a
risatella children.
"But as I slept?"
My back hurt, his left cheek was throbbing and the
burned. He also had a burning hunger, as if they were drilling
guts with a peak of four centimeters. Outside, artillery
seemed to have increased the volume of fire. There was preparing the final escalation
, was obvious. He tried the dial glow the alarm:
scored 19 and 57. The last day of the year is made for
be thrown away, he thought.
But it was time to take on that old sack, got up and staggered
reached mobile TV, almost new Siemens 1999, which had won
poker gambling at the bar down to the year before. Of course, it was not a
of the latest models in color, but it was the only object in that room
occasionally surprised to admire a fine piece of furniture made of wood and bakelite,
with knurled knobs elegant ivory gold.
pressed the power button, then stood beside
device to see slots on the performance of the valves in
lighting, dark brown, rusty red, amber, Giallone, yellow ... then the room began
Color ' blue cathode ray tube. The
sound made its way through the valves, but scratchy
increasingly clear. It must have been a Miss Good evening.
"... now broadcast on the first and second TeleCanale National networks
unified and color, the twenty-ninth Speech by President of the Italian Republic
..."
"What a pussy!"
that was new, of course, the red of which had mentioned that other wanker
of Augustus, the description corresponded
especially those lips that were a whole program.
would know how to keep them engaged, oh yes that would know.
"... at the New Year. RTI, Radio Television Italian,
in the person of the Director of Buongiorno Michele Palimpsest,
want to wish all families registered at RTI Fee Antenna
a happy New Year and a peaceful year duemilaedieci. "
Aside from the usual fanfaretta dick. Stephen took the opportunity to light a
TabaccoPopolare. He inhaled a mouthful of oily smoke,
coughed, and immediately wanted to drink.
He remembered that he had hidden a bottle of Portuguese wine behind the basket
garbage in the kitchen. It was for special occasions, and that was New Year
shit, nothing less than the Feast of Feasts. New Year two thousand and ten!
not come back ever again, ha ha! He opened
the kitchen door, pushed aside the basket overflowing with filth
old, found the relic, took out the eighteen degrees of pure pleasure
in liquid form. He looked up and saw that the cathode ray tube
the Italian flag, which then had a white stripe between two gray stripes, was dissolving
to leave the field to the big face obese President,
classified among the luxurious furniture and fine tapestries of Quirinale.
looked like a sad fat toad. He remained motionless for a long moment, then
rubbed his lips, gave a look at some place beyond the
field of the camera, then the expression changed into a hint of a smile, raised his
right hand front of his face and began to speak.
"Citizens of the Republic, and telecollegati RTI, health to you!"
The bottle was covered with a greenish patina and appicicaticcia.
Stephen put it under running water, rubbed, wiped it very well with the old
burazzo yellowed, then looked pleased. He turned the treasure between
hands for a moment, then unscrewed the cap and sniffed the
aluminum content.
"... will not hide too long: the lavish New Year's banquet
is waiting for all of us ..."
He opened the jar of aspirin, and took two tablets
swallowed with a generous sip of wine. He took another puff of tobacco
petrochemicals.
"... the New Year, yes ... a day of gaiety and serenity symbol
the incessant perpetuation of life, the cycles of nature ..."
Rutte, put the straw on the edge of the sink, wet your hands under the water jet
and ran his fingers through his hair in slow motion, as much as possible to pull
upholstery tired face. From below came the muffled roar of a monstrous
Raudo.
"... but today is not made a day of celebration.
winds of war blowing over Europe, and the State brother was militarily occupied,
in stark contrast to the last resolution of the League of Nations ...
with its own guiding principles ... "
" Vichy Damn! "
" We all still under the eyes of the dramatic pictures
'entry of the French tanks in the capital of the German Democratic Federation
, until yesterday, free and sovereign state. Berlin
in flames, and today there can be no real celebration, even here in Italy ... "
He opened the refrigerator. He saw two empty bottles of mineral water, tomato
a fossil, a basket with two lemons bluish, a tube of ointment for herpes
and a bag that had the best of times
have contained some kind of cheese, judging by the smell that foul stur
the nostrils. He took the bundle ravine between thumb and forefinger, he ran to the window, opened it
, then gave a nice launch Olympic revelers to the sidewalk.
The cold air in December, coupled with the foul stench, finished it to wake up.
took a long sip of wine from the mouth to remove the rancid memory of
cheese, alcohol, however, began to widen the hole that he felt the
stomach. Automatically moved to the cabinet.
"... the death of the dictator in 1979, this country has known
a long period of social peace and cohesion and economic development. You
since 1918 that Europe does not know the horrors of war ... "He opened the door creaking
, he saw a jar of hazelnut cream, empty
a ground coffee, where he kept the pig ceramic sugar.
But just over a packet of biscuits, tightly closed, seemed to issue a
its brightness, as a gift from heaven.
He remembered that he had bought by mistake at the supermarket who was filthy
Via Puglia, when he began to follow the shelves that
vaccona with fishnet stockings. At one point she had stopped in front of the parade
biscuits, undecided with all that sexy
finger resting on the lips, and Stephen had made the right next
and had grabbed a pack any. Then things started to sputter,
but since that afternoon he had drunk a little bit, maybe he could not
be so brilliant, because she began to run through the supermarket, spreading
homogenized Bimbo, chips and absorbent Potì Tubolex.
'Fuck. At home, then found out that I had stuck in my damn basket
biscuit tin, with all the commotion. He hated them, the biscuits, but
that day, with hunger she had, went very well.
pulled down box: "From the basket of Grandfather Adolf: The Praetzel. "Said the great
written on yellow cardboard box. Below, a biscuit too
gold, shaped like a small praetzel, was about to take a bath in
a cup of steaming milk and white. Stephen opened the box snatching
the upper edge and slipped into the mouth four cookies. Smelling substances
chemicals and plastics. Crunching, went to the toilet.
"... the President closed the Vichy French Gaelle
diplomatic channels and did not respond to strenuous appeals from the League of Nations
. So, today December 31, 2010, on the day of New Year
, Italy has declared itself at war with France,
in compliance with the Covenant of Lubeck in 1988 ... "
The biscuits tasted horrible, but it phagocytes Stefano
another handful. He closed the door of the peeling process behind him, and without leaving
the package of cookies, we dropped the pants of the suit, underwear, and sat on the toilet
. He began to push and voluptuously fart.
The voice of the President of the Republic came weaker
through the plywood door.
"... the country's border with the assailant were closed
Italian diplomats and recalled from office in Paris ..."
ppprrrrrrrrrr brott brott brott ... .... The stench
flatulence mingled with the scent of the chemical
biscuits, mix in a novel. Stephen in his mouth a couple of biscuits.
was beginning to feel quite well. He put his hand again in
box, felt a different texture, drew a small envelope in clear plastic
a booklet containing the orange cover. "The History of Grandfather Adolf
" said the tiny cover.
the reassuring look of an old man with white hair and bushy mustache, dressed in fashionable
Bavarian countryside, watching him slyly.
Stefano, curiously, he freed the little book from the plastic bag. It was a publicity stunt
the producer
of those infamous cookies hydrocarbons, evidently trying to build
around him an aura of authenticity through the life story of the founder
. Stefano began.
"Children and mothers, Guten Tag! I'm Grandpa Adolf of Germany.
all know my delicious cookies and snacks to lick my
mustache, right? In this book I want to tell something about my
long life, and let you know because in my basket leaving only good things. "
The first illustration of the booklet was an old photograph of a chubby baby
.
"I was born in the town of Braunau, in Austria, a beautiful place with mountains sparkling
and fresh air. "
In the second photo, a young man in a suit and tie, posed next to a geezer
part of a city landscape.
"My first passion was painting ... Yes, child, I thought I was a very promising artist
! So much so that my application
Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna was accepted. But
just arrived in the great city was hit by a car.
I had to stay in hospital for almost a year, then when I left, I discovered that painting
not interest me anymore. That stroke of carriage
something had changed in me, children! "
In the third photograph, Adolf already very overweight, in white apron and mustache
blacks, indicating the sign of a shop in Gothic:
"Konditorei Hitler."
"... so I moved to Germany, Monaco of Bavaria, where he opened a bakery
: German and my genuine and treats prepared with care and passion
liked us ..."
Stefano threw the book on the ground, got up, summarily wiped then
always munching, he went back to the kitchen. He noticed that the TV was gone
the large face of the President and there were only a
interference and noise nuisance. Then he heard a hollow sound, very strong. Could not be a
Raudo. Failed electricity and the TV suddenly fell silent, but strangely, the
stay was all lit up, as if it were day. Stephen came to the door of the balcony
intrigued. Opened.
The huge mushroom-shaped atomic explosion, lit up the city.
was red, white and yellow, and was moving slowly, changing into different forms
. A Stefano seemed magnificent spectacle priceless. He put in a mouth
last cookie. Then something strange happened. He saw that the buildings in the distance
were coming down one after another, as in that game
who was a child, the domino.
"Vive la France," he thought, and it occurred to him that the Vichy
by young must have been a great piece of ass.
Someone down the street, was screaming. Everything began to vibrate, and
move, then the shockwave of the explosion hit in full
Stefano De Vito, and four hundred thousand fellow citizens.
'' fuck '.

Smtp 554 You Are Not Me

ALBA

The second lock was giving way. The flexible biting well on metal and sparks scattered all around that seemed to portend the fireworks that would have triggered a little later. They preferred to force the door for rear access, rather than the main one, because the large metal structures that were put right in front of the concealed from the gaze of the policemen who were passing distracted from time to time on the freeway. The paunchy steel padlock capitulated and fell to the ground with a thud. They exchanged a quick glance, then finally pulled out the rusty long bar that closed the rear access door. Opened. A breath of cold air, burial, received them, while the mouth the dark opened wide in front of them.

upon the Organization of the Nine in full force. They knew it was not a walk, and of course had prepared a backup plan in case things had proved more complicated than expected.

"It's gone. Turn on the lights, let's go, "said Samael.

lit, but the beams of light magnesium seemed to bounce on the thick blanket of darkness, instead of drilling. Aleph took a step back.

"But enter it you crazies in there! Who knows what could be? What the hell is the smell out? I'm staying here, "

" Here to do what? To make you see the cops? We will do what has been decided "

" I just have not decided anything "

" Tonight or never, you know "

Aleph mumbled something, but Mina, who was right behind him pushed him inside.

'rabbits'

Then they went to.

meter by meter the light cones began to reveal the interior of the building. The rear access corridor was a gut with circular plastered in pink. Bizarre red lights, like beans, or kidney, were placed at regular intervals over their heads. Mina comes to mind "Fantastic Voyage" that old movie where the shuttle scientists were shrunk and injected into a human body. She was afraid to see emerge bands of white blood cells and giant hungry. They came out instead of rolls of cloth, bundles of posters parchment, wooden planks, broken-down chairs, a lot of old tires, rusty metal debris which could not guess the original form or function, mummified corpses of careless doves and pigeons, a doll plastic without eyes, cardboard boxes. They had to move a tower of aluminum to pass, then finally came out into the great central hall.

"Here, here's the place," said Samael, the only group to be already there, many years ago. Immediately, the whimsical shapes that architecture of the opened drawers lost in memory. He also saw the incredulous looks of the other members of the expedition, fixed on the geometry of the bands forget flashlights were gradually revealed.

The floor was almost completely intact, as are the vast walls of mirrors. Four huge techno-biological arms, perhaps designed by a madman, or a locust, rose from the four corners of the room to join and support the zenith as a metal disk iridescent. A huge mushroom color, whose top was accessible through a narrow metal ladder, crying electric cables. Some bizarre electronic equipment were supported on wooden pallets in the middle of the room and a refrigerator industry rested on its side nearby. Everything was covered with a uniform layer of dust. They continued to explore other wings of the building and seemed abandoned by little, but they knew that however many years had passed when the old Avedis had decided to end it.

brought the diesel generators in the large closet next to the room, then started them and connect them to the main distribution cables and large panels halogens. The explosion of light, the large circular room is finally revealed, divine and decadent at the same time. Were mounted large scaffolding of brushed aluminum, and electronic devices on them, the state of the art, for which the Organization had no expense spared. To others he was given the task to get rid of all the dust, and industrial vacuum cleaner that had been procured did a good job. The debris and waste that had piled up in the main hall were transported to the pavilion side, the most cumbersome, left, "as witness." A team led by Mina took care to hang on the walls some large white banner with the single word "the Dawn", a banner larger on the outside, was lit by four halogen lamps. Was finally broken through the main door of the building: now no one, not even the entire army, would have more willing or able to stop them. After nearly five hours, fifteen minutes before midnight, the messages were transmitted OK. Before long, hundreds of cars filled the large parking lot in front of the building, came more than fifteen hundred people. And many of them had never been there, there: they were too young when the old and stuffy Avedis had decided to close the doors of the cabin, and put it on sale.

In the belly of the great disco abandoned, the rave-party went on until dawn. At eight, the group Organization ended up removing the scaffolding, as colored lights and strobes, amplifiers, subwoofer, large speakers, the DJ consoles, refrigerators and generators, and he loaded all the vans and went away. Samael became instead to leave it there in the parking lot, only with a few beers. At a quarter past eight, the large rectangular banner that had been left on the roof of a bent po'al center. Samael And it seemed that the disco, the glorious old club, the same smile. Then came the bulldozers.

Pain In Thigh Driving

Ragusa baked

Chess family size, and other delicacies

No, although appearances may deceive "Ragusa in the oven ..." is not the secret hope of every Modica in 2011 that still feels robbed investiture by the city in the province of Ragusa. Yes, I agree, it was up to us but we do not go to camp pretexts of yore. "Ragusa province and Muorica ..." ok, let the soul at peace! However, despite the fraternal friendship which binds me to a lot of Ragusa, the same is not easy to admit that even a bell tower which are outside the capital County (hihihihi ) there may be places, such as "Ragusa in the oven ... "able to satisfy the tastes of a discerning connoisseur of chess. Meet widely, I would like to add. This restaurant is one of those places where genuine and good kitchen with all the anointing of the people taking care of the substance rather than form. Where you go to fill his belly, not to create macro photographs of the dishes that are served. This "fast food" ibleo meets the needs of all: Bakery, Delicatessen, Dolceria, hot food and fast food so popular by those who dine out and not have the time or desire to spend a fortune for their livelihood.

especially during peak hours, take the entrance before entering numeretto, please. We welcome an efficient war machine in minutes, even if the crowding at the counter, will be able to appease your hunger pangs. You can choose between the substantial "first lady in ramekins Sara" and "the whims of cuisine served in abundant portions (To notify the lasagna, parmigiana the and especially the potato pie ) or between the rustic diner. Over the counter will look attractive pies, soft meat pastiera , arancine sauce and mozzarella cheese, butter or spinach, spinach pies or of boiled, breaded lamb wheat flour (they are heartless, right?) and other delicacies of the table hot iblea. You can also choose from a menu of pizza (capricious, Palermo, "Calabrian soft piquant Sauce" daisy) drink with only five euro. The pizza is in the media: I mean, satisfactory, but it gets better around. The real benefits of this location is represented, however, no doubt, from scacce . Exceptional scacce Ragusa, those who sell themselves to enormous weight of those portions that you can only eat if you do not want stain to. For scacce spoiled for choice. From the classic tomato and cheese to the tomato and onion potatoes (unfortunately not very common in Modica), tomato, cheese and eggplant, and cherry from the board with four cheeses iblei (cheese, provolone, and ... caciotta not remember the fourth! Maybe tuma ) at chess with ricotta declined according to the different preferences: cheese and onion, cheese and sausage, ricotta and spinach to the traditional, tasty cheese and beans.

you feel burdened? Come on, a sweet (often a hot pancake on the house), plus coffee and you're ready to tackle the afternoon return or even hundreds of miles separate you from the end of turn.

Additional

• The breaded lamb;
• The casts cherry and four cheeses and especially the focaccia with ricotta and fava beans;
• Cassata iblea;

unsolicited advice

The table in the middle of the room in case of overcrowding makes it difficult to pass. And then the coffee. Let's face it ... can improve.

Contacts

Via Archimede, 498 - Ragusa

Tel 0932-252266

www.ragusaalforno.com

info@ragusaalforno.com

Sunfish Diagram With Parts

Interview with Victor Contarina fence on the lawn of Via Roma street market

NEWS FROM CITY HALL

CONTARINI XVIII: THE FENCED MEADOW STREET MASELLA


We are being Aloisi Masella. Border road between municipalities 18 and 19. Along this road there is a prairie town in recent months had become notorious for having turned against his will into a veritable open-air market illegally held by about 200 people mostly of Roma origin.
on this lawn overlooking hundreds of residents of Torrevecchia that on market days, were regularly woken in the middle of the night by the cries of those countless people who were fighting each other to grab the best location to sell used goods and then, according to the law enforcement, even stolen. All
lasted until lunch time when, over the market, these people abandoned the lawn leaving a real dump.
The situation became critical and many local residents were even willing to move house.
But there is a counselor of the 18th that City Hall has never stopped fighting for this problem, his name is VITTORIO CONTARINI and in the neighborhood is known to be the pharmacist in the area.
Today, thanks to his intervention, the meadow has been reclaimed and the area was completely fenced. Now this market is just a bad memory.
A great victory for her, true Contarina? Well ... it

a great victory for the neighborhood! Sure is a great satisfaction for me, as it is from exactly one year I was struggling to restore legality and propriety in this part of the 18th
Hall. Dates back to December 2009, the resolution which I submitted in Council, which require greater scrutiny by law enforcement and a fence in that area. The area was not fenced, but a more assiduous brigade was sufficient to control the area. That is, until September ...

Because what happened in September?

Immediately after the summer the market has grown exponentially: the municipal police was no longer sufficient to contain the problem. So I approached the Office of the Mayor in the person of Dr. Bellows, a person of great value. After dozens of meetings, phone calls and meetings I was able to allocate, from the same Office of the Mayor, the necessary funds for fencing the area.

A story with a happy ending then?

It seems so, but now will be critical and vigilant to keep your eyes open: this account much on help from people who always point out to me the problems of the neighborhood. And if the problem occurs again, I would know how to intervene immediately.

Here is a true example of closeness between citizens and politics.

Masterbation Nation 3 Dvd

Borgo Antico

A safe haven for those in search of the sea on the table

Until a few years ago, for a modest skipped the fancy that it was usual to leave the kitchen of the ground proposed by the local restaurants in favor of a fish dish cooked like Poseidon should have commanded to fall back on simple home cooking "For Beatrice" by Marina Modica. In this place "historic" catering Modica - already recommended in a guide at the end of '60 for the consumption of foreign tourists - including a bonnet of spaghetti with clams and mussels to juicy peppered could happen to share a few jokes with the ' unforgotten Don Peppino, the owner and operator of the premises. Otherwise, there was no choice. We had to sail to other shores: Pozzallo, Donnalucata or Marina di Ragusa. Scoglitti or Marzamemi for the culinary snob or demanding, but in that case it was a veritable gastronomic tour.

To change the dishes on the table the chance of two young restaurateurs who, by the end of 2006, just across the narrow streets of the historical center of Modica, have made their pride seafood. Restaurant "Only fish" it warns the sign at the entrance of Via Pozzo Barone, accompanied by the avoidance of doubt the image of a fishing boat. Going up the steps to the alley in front of you to the hull of a boat and a fish trap on the wall, an unmistakable sign that you've come to right place. The location is a bit 'cramped but well-lit, with some fishing nets on the walls and paintings of seafaring argument: these details, along with the stone left "exposed" the dammuso which was derived from the main hall could induce any idea that this is a seafood restaurant, maybe just a little more elegant. Nothing could be more wrong, fortunately. Not degraded the chef of this restaurant with such insinuations, and especially not mortificateli ordering a hackneyed risotto or roast the sword. Take some advice from the friendly waiting staff and do not regret it. In the kitchen is experienced but not too much. It starts with a starter capable of combining creativity and tradition: octopus and potato salad fragrant and flavorful, fish couscous impeccable oysters giant (but where they take?) anchovies and prawns marinated (alone worth your dinner, believe me!), vegetables and fish patties , Soutè mussels, mini pastizzi broccoli and anchovy (great combination, but in less than a pinch of salt next time) and a curious seafood salad in jelly that I appreciated very moderate despite my distaste for aspic. Fresh fish and well prepared, all in generous portions: trucker's obviously not, but even from a gastrofighetto paccheri and three leaves of lettuce to be clear, so it is understandable that after a starter so abundant someone may decide to skip the main courses in favor of the latter. ;

not Archestratus. But who do you think you speak with an anorexic model?

the first time. Standing ovation for trofie with sardines and fennel, a dish with an intense aroma and flavor (oh, are sardines): perfect cooking, flavoring assayed in art, excellent seasoning. Remarkable even with homemade as anglerfish something more could be done for s Spaghetti with seafood : a classic, but when I tasted them I found very tasty. A new microscopic but nothing dramatic, not all the donuts they can with the hole. About the latter do not have much to add: the excellent stir-fry as well as unpublished squid stuffed with cheese Ragusa (an unexpected delight, really). For the rest, I always chose roasted or baked fish and in this case the skill of cooking and accompanying dell'intingolo have praised the freshness of the fish. Going from memory, I remember I got amberjack, swordfish, sea bream, sea bass but also squid, prawns and dolphinfish while remaining fully satisfied.

offered on a sorbet that accompanies the bill in the case of a complete meal hardly exceeds 30-35 euro per person - wine not included, but consider not charging too expensive. Go there if you look for a good seafood restaurant within walking distance from the center of Modica.

Additional

• I marinated trofie with sardines and fennel;
• The grilled fish;
• The service is friendly but not intrusive;

Tips Unsolicited

Pubblicizzatelo better! From the site, too skinny and definitely improved.

Contacts

Barone via Pozzo, 30 - Modica (Rg)

tel. 0932-942423

www.ristoranteborgoantico.com

info@ristoranteborgoantico.com

Jcpenney Coupons Salon Coupon

Laboratory artisan confectionery "Don Puglisi" Antichi Sapori

When goodness is synonymous with solidarity

Linked to house of hospitality "Don Puglisi, this laboratory began as a small-scale confectionery form of social experiment, a sign of education decent work for the house to accommodate guests. A good project pursued with persistence and determination, the result of a chorus made up of voluntary membership, enthusiasm, expertise and professionalism. The laboratory, as indicated by the site's homepage, "is a sign of welcome that is not limited to food and housing, but wants to promote ways of dignity and solidarity relations." Direct result of these laudable ethical principles that underpin the laboratory "Don Puglisi is the choice of using only the highest quality raw materials from Fair Trade. "Taste the difference" is the claim chosen to introduce these products, which combines perfectly ethical and sensory excellence. Why the difference was distinctly heard, and not only in moral principles.

Beginning chocolate: the workshop "Don Puglisi" in fact uses the paste of bitter cocoa criollo (probably the best variety in the world), which mixed with the aromas of the chocolate produces a Modica 'unique sensory experience. Taste buds into ecstasy and endorphins to ten thousand to speak. For the traditional flavors of cinnamon, vanilla and pepper are added to the now ubiquitous varieties to carob, orange, coffee, pistachio (delicious), bergamot (unmatched). The wares of the laboratory is no exception. Let groped by timeless almond biscuits or more raw fillets (no less good), by full-bodied mostaccioli or nucatoli from jam pastries (delicious, straight from the cookbook " Grandma's "), to the Savoy fresh load of sugar and goodness. Not to mention the 'mpanatigghie : small crescents of excellent workmanship, crown marked by a thin crust and the filling is very fine place in the squad certainly the best in town.

summer do not forget to taste the ice cream or almond milk , especially one made with toasted almonds.

Additional

• chocolate with bergamot, bouquet incredible. I recommend it to melt in your mouth, not for heresy to bite!
• The 'mpanatigghie and "Sweet Savoy"

unsolicited advice

I know that is beyond the purpose of a blog and prisenza belly like this, but if you want you can donate 5x1000 of your tax return to the House of reception "Don Puglisi" : in this way contribute to the reintegration into society of single mothers and their children or those women actually marked by hardship.

Contacts

Corso Umberto I, 267 - Modica (Rg)

Tel 0932-193111

http://www.laboratoriodonpuglisi.it

info@laboratoriodonpuglisi.it

Diabetic Exchange Amounts

Rosy

This is not a place for anorexics

free advice: if you have a straight pull peckish. Otherwise, by entering into this microscopic diner Corso Vittorio Emanuele Modica you feel guilty about not being able to consume the entirety of a mammoth that is known this rustic grill. Founded in 1995 by Mrs. Iozzia, today the restaurant is run by a nice harem that includes the woman's son Joseph, Elisa, Federica, sometimes barely visible behind the bar filled. Svuotiamolo a little then! Let's start with the arancine : stout, the crunchy breading (the bit that has a bun in the teeth of small pleasures of life that only they can understand my peers in Sicily) and the seasoning is distributed in generous quantities. If I may just prefer the rice a little bit a 'juicier but the fact remains that these arancine remain among my favorites and among those I recommend most. Huge scacce with pastry rolled a bit 'thicker than other caterers but probably necessary to contain the filling tasty and plentiful. Noteworthy also pastiera giants - some people dinner with one of these! - And buccaturedde (spinach, broccoli) by the thick paste and crispy. The pizza is average, but nothing exceptional. The exception comes when instead of the kitchen is carried in triumph (pass me a bit 'of color, come on) the pan with the unobtainable. The tomasini . Fanfare and mouth openings for these colossal tomasini ricotta, egg, sausage and caciotta to be able to suppress the appetite even more emphatic: juicy and perfumed in the sauce, the soft dough. Absolutely delicious, but I defy you to eat more than one.

Additional

• The casts potatoes, onion and parsley and arancine;

• I tomasini, ça va sans dire;

unsolicited advice

The video on the website is nice, but music Jamm 'Bell' style is unbearable.

Contacts

Corso Vittorio Emanuele, 2

Tel 0932-942728

www.antichisaporirosticceria.it

antichisapori@email.it

Acute Leukaemia More Condition_symptoms

Rotisserie Bar Catering

Granite Christmas

"Who's priculu? was asked once in the presence of young women as an act of extreme respect. Danger - danger - is that the young man in question was to take care not to become pregnant and still see that by appointing foods out of season or cooking food very appetizing could arouse in her a desire . The sin of gluttony would move with sudden indelible mark on the little body of the unborn child as a punishment for the greed of his mother unless you had made appropriate "emergency operations" or, better choice, not the poor husband is forced to a frantic search for tunnina oranges in January or in August. Other times, other times really.

A lengthy introduction, I admit. But when I called to mind the cultural superstitions undergrowth is because in the past Rosy Bar would be a worthy ally in the fulfillment of mad culinary cravings maternity . good iced coffee with cream and pastries at Christmas Modica is not easily ... You read that right, slush in December. I consumed during this the Christmas period, while not pregnant, and I really appreciate it! But Rosy Bar in Via Risorgimento Pinelli family worth a visit even beyond this freak out of season: report of the Gambero Rosso in 2010 must mean something, right? The croissants are fragrant, good leavening even though sometimes I crumble upon (pastry worked too fast, or maybe I just eat with the same grace of a child of five years). Of note, among others, the delicate croissant with cheese and cream to white, well-bound and soft taste: to be clear, you'll not take taste of vanilla in the mouth of some croissants from roadside restaurants, but a pleasant aftertaste of vanilla and lemon. Also excellent cakes and pastries for breakfast on Sunday. In particular, the fragrance ' mpanatigghie small but well-inflated with the right soft stuffing of the prevalence of chocolate. On the other biscuits I ever tasted but not having them pronounce the appearance looks good. Sure to try the chocolate bars Modica, that Mr. Pinelli also produces a curious giant size. Grainy and the flavor, the chocolate is available in classic flavors, but if you want to try the highest level of taste to citrus fruits or nuts from Piedmont. What carob instead, I was not particularly excited.

Ice and slush make a fine shows, as I stressed before, even in winter: a delicious taste with cream and pistachios, sensational chocolate, coffee and cheese. Note on (especially for those who, like me, do not adore this taste) for the lemon ice cream, slightly sour and rather pleasantly creamy. From then try the spumoni coffee coupled with almond granita. Last but not least - it is appropriate to say - the cremolate . True velvety fruit ice, like a granita to the cube, are the pride of the Rosy Bar: Unbelievable that the strawberries with whipped cream (let's not miss anything) and that of figs and nuts. Too sweet Instead, for my taste although the cremolata Cantalupo is accompanied by a savory slice of prosciutto ham and ... cremolata already. The newlyweds are warned.

Additional
The cremolate and slush.

Contacts
Via Risorgimento, 4 / b - Modica (Rg) 0932-906649

www.rosybar.it
info@rosybar.it

Help Me Write A Wedding Card Messages

tumblr_lewk2dtFeB1qz7lxdo1_400.jpg (350 × 463)

San Francisco Cruising Spots

Crrrrak

Only now I realize how damn big this city. Now that I'm in a hurry, now that I have to walk every mile on foot trying to get to a point that seems unattainable. What happened in that room, the incident, the phone call, and now this crazy race. Sverre I think from time to time ... also do not see very well, the blood continues to colarmi inside the eye. I think I wounded in the face, but I do not know when and I do not know how serious this thing. But I do not care. I do not care pain and anger I feel, I do not care that the cold I grab my throat at every step, I do not care a shred of proof that I lose by joining in the interweaving of scaffolding pipes.

I'm pretty sure that this town hate me deeply, it has always done everything to impede their lives ... traffic in important meetings with the operation of public transport when my mill refused to do what I wanted, smoke, smog, I stop permanently the nose, the queues for anything, the market, the newsagent, to the bathroom , the cinema, to the cemetery ... and now this.

while running at breakneck speed these menate thinking, someone has the idea kind of tripped me. Roll on the ground, pararmi trying to face with her hands. I realize how strong were running only when I'm going to slam my back against a garbage can that reminds me against the wall. I stay a moment on the ground with the thought of how mutual hatred between me and this place. I'm not a disgruntled, so I get up, anxious to know the funny guy who showed me this trick. I raise my blood from my eyes and try to focus. I notice with pleasure that the pranksters are two of the hood ... and they also can not believe it. One of them approached me with a knife that looks more like a machete and breaks the ice by saying:

"hello dude, just give us everything you have ... or spread your casings on the sidewalk! "

and I thought I would invite to the prom

" feel beautiful "I say" we remain yet to play with you bad guys, but seriously, I hurry to go somewhere, so I say immediately that it was an evening of shit and I think that it has yet to sink in the sewage before it runs out, so get out of the way because I have to give a shit "

maybe I was a bit 'hard, I think I hurt his feelings. In fact here is that other one who was standing on the sidelines shooting at me without realizing it in time to face, and I spring a good fist of those facts right, right in the stomach. I lose my breath say ten seconds, at which time the type continues to fight as if it were a drum. They begin to hum the ears and my vision becomes blurred as if it were not enough, try something in the pockets of instinct to defend myself, I grab the phone and with all the strength that I have the antenna sticking in the throat. I feel that his trachea hole, the guy can not cry even though I know it would do so, you only hear a gurgling like a drain lazy. As it falls down his friend with a straight thrust the knife test to my stomach, so luckily the adrenaline-packed that I jump back, grabbed his arm with one hand and with my free arm give him a nice elbow on the snout. I admit to being pleased when I understand, from the noise, that's some teeth were broken. I take advantage of his surprise that I was break his arm while holding, bending sharply on my shoulder. The knife fell from his hands, he might cry, and do it loudly. I pick up the knife from the ground and I put it in my pocket, I think very well replace my old phone that at least something, tonight is served. I try to piece together a coherent thought, but the screams and the blood will not help me at all. The guy I hit in the throat to the ground unconscious, perhaps dead. The fumbled in his pockets and find the keys that could be a machine.

tour a couple of streets, I find that a van parked across the air to say "hey I'm invisible, not notice me." I try to insert the key into the lock, it goes! I go up and put in motion.

my eye goes to the clock on the dashboard, finally, I know how much time passed from the accident and all the rest ... beautiful full four hours. Shit! It 'very late. Thrust your foot on the accelerator, at least no one on the street at this time. In ten minutes added to the building where I live. Running down the hall and I sling. The elevator is broken, right ... thirteen floors on foot. Many curses later, I arrive at the floor. I take the knife from his pocket, just in case we need to make a phone call to someone. Inside thirty. It 's my. The door is turn, seems to have been opened so unkind to someone who had the keys. She had not, but not needed. I open slowly ... I think someone had a party in my absence. I do a lap with a little 'attention, but there is no one, no longer at least. Reversed as the library desk, paper everywhere, broken lamps, etc. ... What worries me most, however, is a halo of burning on the walls, the wallpaper is horrible all blackened, and there are glimpses of strange on the sofas and curtains. Are long and deep. What on earth has happened here ...?

I sit a moment on what remains of my favorite chair, and I try to put together the pieces, reconstruct at least what could happen, to have a shred of trail to follow. I keep my head in his hands, his elbows resting on knees. I close my eyes. I see them and cover immediately. On the floor. Drops of a liquid black. I get up and look around on the floor, there are others. They form a small trail, follow her, goes to the bathroom. In fact I had not checked during the first round. I open the door without even a knife in his hand, e. .. oh christ! A show

horrible for me. I find two bodies in my bathtub, turned in upon themselves three or four times, they seem to what remains of your car when you put them in the press from the scrap yard. I do not think they have bones intact, not one. The strange thing, that is even stranger is that there is not even a drop of blood, nothing. Seem dry. In their eyes open yet is read perfectly the horror and pain you have endured. I had to reach before, Smeison When I phoned to tell me that here was bringing home, I heard that he was agitated, perhaps already knew what he was chasing, and is now reduced to a cube in my process, even Rich curse were my friends were helping me ... and I have them paid off well.

My mind is blank and I'm sorry for my friends, but I can not but be grateful that in the tank, there is also his body. They took her away, but at least it's alive I'm not sure if they wanted it out would have done it here, but seems to serve the living. I absolutely must find out who and why ... I have to organize. The trace of dark spots on the floor which of course stops the window is broken. I look down. I do not know why but I have the distinct feeling that those who have not taken away is gone from here by walking ...