Cheap Bouquet And Boutonniere

the heart of the Paralympics

well, I guess we're at the point of departure. are again restless.
hours are 2:14 am and I'm awake, sprightly as a neopensionata exit from the first water aerobics classes.
long and exhausting days are taking place without me having any idea what the hell kind of absurd situations are being born. and though I am very pleased to have been able to put a tombstone on the thought of the marathon runner, miraculously reversing the route taken by the hamster suicide in these three and a half months, it is true that the hormone me ferries to other shores that are if possible, even more dangerous.
I'm sure a resourceful little woman and I do not scare the difficulties, but I have to admit to myself, somehow managing to convince even the hamster, that there are some situations that are truly out of my reach. situations that have a potential catastrophe equal to that of the Hiroshima bomb and that I must be absolutely and without exception, to prevent. reluctantly.

g. has hit the problem when, on his way home, I wrote a message inviting the exercise of temperance. two lines in which he said: it is a good girl. and he was right because g. know, without needing to know why so thoroughly, that behind the frantic activity of the rodent host of my brain, there is a kind of congenital inability to brake in time to prevent the outbreak of a tragedy like the one that could avvernire if I, for once, not themselves by the adult.

rastiki says that this time is not my fault, but fate has conspired against me.
she says that men fall into two broad categories: entrepreneurial and dormant but in some cases one or the other can migrate to a third category which is that the hindered, paraplegics of feeling that can not even wanting to cause of force majeure, follow your heart.
is now clear that you are generalizing here as it is also clear that you are making a decision without the landlord in the sense that rastiki simply trying to get me a bit about the morality without having consulted anyone, Mencius least the person in question, but sometimes do the whole herb a bundle, as I scolded ax tonight, it helps to take controversial decisions without losing confidence in themselves.
because in reality it is mr. requirement, the marathon runner or anyone else, what continues to run desperately my hamster is in addition to the hormone, which prevails over any other chemical substance at the moment from my body, a sort of total lack of confidence in my potential as a single individual, a single in the sense of "stranger to the couple."
now I would not launch into speculations of ten pounds, or even worse marzulli last minute, but there was someone before me who spoke of a congenital lack the individual, a kind of desperate for something that at some point in our lives we have been stolen, and how I hate this person, then that is a psychiatrist, perhaps I should begin to think maybe he was right.
how else do you explain the fact that I am at this hour after a busy day in which my body has produced liquid in the form of sweat in industrial quantities, I still have not sleep? and I did not sleep because I'm thinking of someone, a person any , a situation any certainly not some kind of insurmountable problems which fortunately I did not.
I definitely want to complicate your life! fuck I spent a quiet evening with my girlfriends to Jappo and yet I was able to poison at some point.
here I think I will save only hammered in his temples, or the usual frontal lobotomy if not immediately reverses course and stop making me the Pippon unnecessary.
here there is tripe for cats - unless they choose to abandon the advances of the loser of that round, showing no shame a blue shirt, me in front of him and tries to board pretending to be his niece, implicandi disturbing incestuous background. here there is this tripe for cats and never killed anyone.

tomorrow we go to the beach!
and perhaps maybe a couple of weeks moving house, why do not land the damn hamster?
but where the fuck happened to the Pollyanna in me that was? the good friends, he, the optimism, it should be cultivated, but is hit - if it came to life, would give us a big hand.

Where Does Dani Gore Get Her Blue Bra?

drives out?

while waiting for the first pass of milky white glaze to dry on my long sharp claws and reflect on the future in a mood that, fortunately, is less dramatic than that which shook my last week .
are a couple of days I feel almost optimistic and did so after a terrible experience in which they starred on June 19 and, needless to say, usually involving the character referred to above and above and still above.
on 19 June that he and I wanted to exchange messages in which at one point I was asked to call him. was in the car, had no credit but wanted to hear me and I seemed to recognize a certain urgency in this call. But appealing to all my might I told him that there was no need to talk because we do not have much to say, since I know I would not say everything and nothing but the opposite of everything according to the script that continues to played by two and half months in this part (the grant for a couple of weeks has had a consistent behavior that seemed meant tivogliobeneevogliopassaredeltempoconte). so I said no, better abdicate the call, and if he is made to fit.
no desperate phone call, no message of love unspeakable, no sign of disappointment though small in front of my refusal to communicate. As always, the Master has accepted all of the liabilities that I could escape to dialogue and continued through the afternoon I was trying to convince me not to have made the biggest nonsense in the world in having given up the extraordinary opportunity to contact him curiously me had offered.
around seven o'clock I took the phone to call and ask where the hell was Ciuciu as necessary to meet us and buy a birthday gift to nana.
compose the number, I answered a male voice. I think that the laboratory is someone who has asked to answer, maybe it's the workers. the voice says: "Enrique's me" - follows the unpronounceable name dell'agognata half the sky.
a point while I'm hating Dr. Freud have to admit he made a slip of the tongue typical of what he liked so much in doing dell'omino number of my dreams instead of what my sister Essendon completely unaware at a conscious level.
goes without saying that, made this thing, I started to sweat profusely and stammer so pitiful until I plugged the phone in my face without even waiting to respond to my frantic "davveroscusamitantissimo, nonvolevochiamarete. Sorry, scusadavvero. Oradevoandareehciaociao" .
and it went like this: I attached a second before the phone slipped from my hands disgustingly sweaty. rastiki to which I have used immediately after this terrible defiance convinced me to recall it, at least to apologize in a reasonable, but when I did the line is falling both times just after we said hello.
I took it as a sign of destiny.

will be sadness, the bad habit will be very inconsistent, emotionally poor of our relationship in recent times, but I realized that this man is not really more nothing I can do.
if you send a message to urge him not to stress too much the amount of work that he answers me these days talking about the weather I know, without the need to deepen further masochistically with sms and phone calls, we have hit bottom. that he eagerly wants to bring us back to the surface in the most obvious and also more mundane who knows that is sinking into clichés and impersonal conversation between acquaintances.
and although to me this does not go down I will not go on with my self-destructive crusade.
I mean if I want to complain about the heat wave that lowers the pressure jump on a bus and I attack the old woman who first meeting, because, really, is not that I miss someone to argue. and trivial arguments there are too many and too trivial to people with whom share even more.
fucking msn was invented just for this!
the problem is that between me and him the ordinariness has never existed, the conversation occasionally banned immediately. we have always claimed that we should go beyond these things and the possibility of attacking the train there are more between seasons in order not to lose it all is too much even for a woman crushed by disappointment as I am right now.
but perhaps the problem lies in the fact that currently there is no that we can muster, why there is no need to over-spend anything.
with this thing and I might as well be making peace, if you like.

and then drives out everyone says. and I say why not stay to hear all that they tell me. I
in this statement that I decided to give the benefit of the doubt. after all it is summer and summer must have fun, so why not?
you say ok then hurry up. and I did! I also bought a beautiful pink dress with lots of bare shoulders and then I went to the beach to sunbathe. in short, all those useless things that we need to shallow people grew up on bread and vogue to support our look in the mirror. I did all this and I felt better.
yesterday at the sea I was a happy person, for once! happy while swimming as the water putrid un'otaria Miseno of three in the afternoon chasing a ball with rackets in their hands green and failing to catch it almost never. happy with the wind, the crowd, the hot weather, spending time with a loved one, without thinking about who the adjective does not deserve it more expensive.
was the first nice day in a long time.

then ok, we make the absurd case that I have done this operation for genocide sentimental and has shelved him the bad guy, right? imagine that I have really decided to put aside those bad people who made me suffer so much and that, hypothetically, have even met someone I'm interested.
happens when that person is potentially off limits?
saint to whom I have never votarmi to come out of this impasse as soon as I put on my eyes - dry, I presume - on someone that is tinged with purple and immediately slips km and km out of my reach?

this is bad luck.

but the feeling of being enveloped in an aura of negativity does not prevent me from a lot of fun tonight and the friend without using alcohol bottle.

promise solemnly.
new life now.
and beautiful life.

Brazilian Waxingfor Men Rhode Island

Confessions Of A Futon-Revolutionist

say ah you know, Pincopallino asks you, want to know how it goes and if you're good.

say yes yes I'm fine, and since I have big teeth big and good looking my smile is particularly convincing. because then people believe and say that you're beautiful, you laugh forever. Durbans type advertising, neither more nor less.

actually now I'm not so good, I'm pretty shabby to be hoped to explode for the thousandth ingurgito indigestion while in Paris the night.
fact I must confess that in these days of stress I have taken up the unhealthy habit of eating like a pig feed without the slightest intention of abating.

Yesterday in the car, back by yet another night / show of the season, r. received a phone call, which did not respond, but the result of which declared, vehemently putting the phone in a pocket and hoping in vain that it was the head of c. that pocket and that was indeed a concrete sidewalk here you see, now because of this bitch I back the anxiety and I must eat. yes because you see at some point there's sti times I eat and I do not stop and eat more for all those days during the week that I did, and all because of this bitch.
this told him as he sped to 80 per hour at a time in his Pandino the bakery of Mr. barrier, but I thought the same thing.
is thought that less than 24 hours before a stop at the gentleman I had already done it and always because of a phone call, but a phone call in my case was not reached and continues to made to wait.
not know r. how will you overcome the problem related to the risk of becoming obese, but I currently do not have a solution and I will not find it, not doing something to eat in Paris, or sandwiches, or pasta dishes or any other food containing huge abundant traces carbohydrates.

in fact they are a little tired, maybe my body needs more energy to function. Once a. I said as much when you think the brain requires large amounts of sugar and then eat more bread. From that day on, my ignorance made me stick to the hope of this tacit excuse to justify any raid that has taken the exemption, I must say, reluctantly, more and more often.
us in mind local year did not start at all well and seems not to want to return, and this hyperactive, my tiny brain has understood all too well, and then down with buckets of sugar.
I can not say that he had tried to get back on my feet, not at all, but if my stomach is a bottomless pit, and if I continue to collect sentimental epitaphs miss something if I were a praying mantis will also be there that does not work.

Wednesday, however, during his farewell performance - half past six votes / too much emphasis in the exposition - the marathon runner has assured me, from its vast experience, it seems that I have nothing wrong, that indeed I am like a precious stone, only this time he did not need me. I think he said I'm like a diamond, such a thing. thinks that ass, I did not ever told anyone.
especially anyone had ever told me a while before you download them, albeit with a certain touch, in my building without even a hello melancholy conjectures on which tack useless overnight. the performance ended in a rather sudden I have to say, and from that day my reserve located high in carbohydrates buttocks / thighs did not grow.

I'm definitely a jewel. I have to convince me to be, at least to avoid sinking in self, of where to go now quickly. I am a jewel and they are so precious that not everyone has the courage to keep in their hearts double-locked.
actually prefer not to keep them at all, leaving me at the mercy of the moths and cockroaches, which, as we all know, are creatures from the jaws phenomenal.
and this is a very sad thing.
thinking about other things days I felt so sad that I started to cry. as Marissa Cooper in 15 years that has the problems of alcoholism and sexual confusion, a woman - insane - 40.
pity the sea to which I drove, to cry without too many people around and also to feel a little more marissa cooper, except that my bag was not gucci and my car was not an SUV ammazzapianeta was not surrounded by lush garden with palm trees and Villon and gardener, but it smelled like garbage and was fenced off to prevent the poisoning of unsuspecting swimmers. I arrived there, I looked around, I whimper another two minutes and I ran away because really, the air was stifling.
even imagine the situation could be more tragic and less ridiculous than this, but for a moment I felt better.
sin to be short-lived.

tonight because I go out to dinner with the family and the doors of my huge stomach are already open to receive tons of fatty foods and unhealthy responsible for stifling the efforts of the heart that desperately wants to get on the brain and tell him to stop doing fussy, stick to the phone and make that damn phone call.

What Does Dry Air Exert

eulogy of a china service for twelve

I took home alone in that apartment I found a potentially valuable where to move.
is a nice little house on the ninth floor of a building in the center which has a lift of eccitantissime with red walls and lots of space all to myself.
actually 140 square meters are just so many and never, ever in the world I could afford them I would be if they had belonged to the brother of r. which more than used to build a small part in a martial arts gym is not going to do.
this means that for a week in this part I have the keys to paradise.
be clear: the house is totally out of order, hidden from the rubble and dirt, but in its filth and decay, I know that space huge is all mine, and I can go when I want and do whatever I want and like. to the extent that will allow me the landlord, who also is a character worthy of note, possibly of note scientific ... but this is not a subject to talk about today.

I like to think of my new house, I I'm so excited, and the day after having visited for the first time I went to Ikea to buy some gifts.
I bought some tea towels, oven mitts, cutlery and plates and glasses.
and I have an aesthetic that I bought the most beautiful dishes and glasses, the most stylish, too.
pity that I bought only two. that is, two bowls, two plates, two bowls and two glasses.
at the time seemed like a smart choice, bearing in mind my limited budget , but when I spoke the other night with jp I realized that this trip IKEA was one of the saddest moments in the already rich collection of sad moments that have marked recent months.
I mean, what's more depressing than to admit to themselves their own state of single-tude if you do not restrict the purchase of kitchen utensils to a minimum to a maximum of two people?
and what could be more definitive than to know that this second that second glass plate and become the private property of your best friend and not that Prince Charming with whom, from your five years, Barilla has imagined that you share it roof, washing, folding table and a double Latvian?
this is a sad reality in front of which the superstitious rites of my mother who has put together a kit made of bed sheets and towels do not strictly apply to absolutely nothing.
the truth is that, whether you say or marriage consecrated by my parents I'm going out there, yes, but with two legs instead of four. and what will convince me that this is a clear sign of emancipation, and I quote from memory and not fictitious female characters who have preceded me in this adventure, to me is what I am going to live alone without a man to be invited to dinner and you bring her breakfast in bed on Sunday, bowing to a few hidden tendency Japan that I have inherited from reading memoriediunagheisha, does not go down.
I feel sad: The marathon runs away and I have no desire to follow him. I left my flag at half court and he did not collect, I hung up his boots and he he's bought a new pair. I just know
ko sentimental.
I retire mid-race.

and that I will make that huge bed? that is to hide the second set of dishes under the mattress?
or rather I should not buy more to dispel the loneliness?

I will finish as the ladies of cats with curly hair, blue satin skirts and sneakers that talk to the walls and always smell of old soaps. or simply eaten by Alsatians.

Human Pathaloma Virus On Uvula

Mommy, I hurt the tummy

Canto and the arms pitiful 'the captain
that 'The great tomb of Christ freed.
Very oprò he co 's discretion and with the hand,
suffer a lot in the glorious purchase;
and there s'oppose van Hell, and in vain
armed themselves in Asia and Libya the mixed population.
The Ciel gave him favor, and in the holy
signs reduced his fellow wanderers.

This is the first song of the Gerusalemme Liberata, which now occurs in a vain attempt to make sense of my recent undertakings. In the best academic tradition I intend to appeal to the words of someone else to explain what I think and do, thoughts and actions right now are moving dangerously close to the martyrdom of the Crusades and ethical / emotional.
I wonder why you need to reach out to suffering and paranoia, cross oceans of tears and sleepless nights with the sole purpose of doing good for someone else, so why I have decided to wrap myself in this shroud of blue and white and play teresadicalcutta when I represent the anathema of any living martyr crusader and may come to mind. I do not have I know what's going on, but in all honesty at this time if I could put in hand a white shield with a red cross above and a helmet with a beautiful veil of iron on the face and I myself would take them off for the Saracen infidel.

Sure I could have chosen a better writer for my erudite quotation, since that rate, as you teach me, it was a hopeless fool, but perhaps it is this detail that took me from him. Something tells me that at this time and I Torquato well as the passion for words, we have more in common ...

I know nothing of the Gerusalemme Liberata: it said that I have this black hole in the brain that opens up a fourth dimension in total ignorance of Italian literature and medieval history course I am not proud of that, but I do not see why not hide much more than my inadequate knowledge of the Gerusalemme Liberata not prevent me from also recognize some similarities between me and his dangerous players . On the other hand is a story that deals with the Crusades, love, sacrifice, good and bad feelings, right? And I think this is enough. It 's true I'll be mad as well as rate, but unlike him, I caught up in the plot, there are up to my neck and I have every right to talk about it and grok them, not that I am making this up to the art to please the patron of the moment . At most I can distract the hamster for ten minutes, but you will understand, that strikes do not miss a plenary session of the Vatican.

So yes, when I feel like a martyr, and although this does not do me honor, I need, for a moment to compose an apology myself. The five-minute complaints are granted to anyone, and then we have a right to cross-tearful confession: after having removed any joy in the happiness, the Buondi has given us at least the right to grieve for our evil and the other, so each When we suffer we must not do is look up and wonder why, that's where he and his stubborn silence and transparency will help us to feel much better.

There once was a man who had decided that I should take care of him. This man, who can not even give a nickname so many and such are his qualities, is putting me in very serious trouble.
Anyone who knows me knows that I do not feel exactly towards men of maternal feelings, which at most in the darkest hours of my life I have fed their subsidiaries and at best they have made these people flee to their heels, with ' it should be.
Besides who would ever want to father a daughter like me? None, I tell you. And that's okay. Open and closed parentheses.
But anyhow: I was a child, a lover or a friend, but never a nurse and I always gone well so that the human cases willing to let them take care of Melanie Viacolvento. I thought.
But it seems that at some point touch everyone through new waters, so here I am with all the stuffed head, hands caressing and ready stethoscope to auscultate the heart palpitations of the heart suffering from this fantastic little man in continuous to be madly in love. The typical twist that moves the plot of the story is not it? The spoiled and selfish
protagonist who suddenly finds himself to deal with the needs of others. A significant slice of the plankton to killer whales in Hollywood. But give me a

complaints, very unprofessional. An aside postmodernists, those who love them as playwrights and writers of the 80s.

I understand that martyrdom does not ask for rewards, I realized that even then the reward comes complete with feathered wings and beam, but I'm not a vocation for teresadicalcutta but only out of necessity, I think I deserve a thank you every now and then I do not know a smile, maybe a kind word no?
But no because I have to argue over the patient's attention to other things, in this case last night with the dogs, three nights before with Piero Chiambretti, also note that the patient continues to ask insistently is given exclusively to him, suffers, poor angel, and do not know what to do. It suffers
then for my sake. So I as well as being the victim of his illness, I would also be the executioner. And the plot becomes increasingly complex.
A psychological drama?! Who knows, I'm just the actress.
Nevertheless, I decided that this man should not feel bad for my sake, and down some loving care, soft words, kind thoughts. Too bad that all turned against me, given that this continues to complain of severe headaches, heartburn and pains in the chest, left side.
His heart does not stand up, despite my complete dedication to the cause and painful. The patient needs a drastic cure, I say that I'm his nurse - qualified personnel - a pity that he perfect hypochondriac he has developed a dosage which, while requiring my presence, I was unclear. So I was the grim
laborers, nothing more and nothing less than strong arms for our fields, or do not know, hands on our keyboards, our neck white uniforms, standing for our grape harvest, and let's stop here first that my passion for the comparisons might touch pornography.
So this is the meaning of my crusade! I will, I fervently hope that my total abdication of personal dignity and self-esteem makes him happy! That my dozens of hours weekly to be paid the minimum wage, provided the state coffers being filled with riches, money, wealth.

I expect a smile in my heart that Mario Draghi as the apparition of the Madonna S. Rita and capiamoci, this is the most terrible I've ever.
And I can not in any way detached from off this bloody robe with the words "good" and to fight tirelessly against the evil forces that are slowly fogacitando the object of my desire.
It 's a tragedy. It 's a climbing above 3000 meters without oxygen tank nearby, and Messner, because the infidel Saracen disguised as doubt and anxiety, took his heart and has no intention of making it to my caring hands.

And so I wait, sitting on the chair, that the infusion of love that I injected month is to take effect, as I see the credits looming large, and Tara looming on the horizon in flames.

But whatever the meaning of what I'm doing and where I will, I claim the right to a happy ending, and heck, I want it now.
And since I'm not in control of my actions, I intend to trace the author of this convoluted plot in which they are involved to talk to eye and ask him to undergo a prior reading of the finale of this 50's melodrama, by threatening to transform our Jerusalem Delivered in a Misery of two thousand years.