my religion teacher in high school had two Key features more than that of having taken a degree in theology which alone already just as if human-to-board ...
... anyway.
its characteristics were as follows:
1. a deadly breath
2. obsession with childhood stolen from African
prof. did not even lesson-is taken seriously, yes. - Before they did circulate among the desks of several photographs of boys and girls she raised by the misfortunes of malnutrition, ignorance and tropical diseases.
not any of them had never left the mud huts, or intended to do, but it seems that they all had learned to read and write, for whenever you need to prepare a statement for the MEND to fly with wings then also comes in handy.
yes she was a missionary of the worst kind. all good deeds and good intentions. propaganda was appealing to the turgidity of our portfolios - capiamoci: I did the high school classic vomevo, prof. knew how much pecuniary circulated to those corridors - and in fact wished with all his might participating in this crusade of the golden heart of Crispus.
I - of course - I was in the front row.
sponsorships in all ways. needy children like rain.
the nurse of the year.
I could not wait that came earlier this month to receive the photo of my adopted child impaled on a pile of books checked with five or six pencils on your hands and the new apron, but barefoot. satisfaction to see him surrounded by all that stationery can not be explained.
or hugged the child to the bucket water - cold water - like stuffed animals.
I was very proud to help others. went on for some time, but not too much. at some point I lost along the way: I stopped doing indulgence and buy heaven with money unicef, I uninterested in world hunger, and I came back to take care only of my personal and insatiable hunger for clothes and shoes zebra.
but deep down I never ceased to be a bit 'on the fate of the less fortunate.
recently then this incipient desire for motherhood is a whole want me to take care of others.
the other day I had the 'epiphany of sponsorships while I was brushing my teeth and pondered on the reasons that lie behind my passion to degenerate and go unpunished. at the end whether you are an African band in Pozzuoli problems or what's the difference?
way they both need help: one to live with the deadly diseases and the neo-imperialist robbery and the other to coordinate a polygamous relationship. I will not discriminate against anyone. In fact, give me someone to save me and I will.
though, however, tend to from the next closest to me actually, just geographically speaking.
take terence who live here do not. here: he needs me, I know.
how else to explain the anxiety that has seized when he was informed of a curse, and another, I had no intention to continue to give me appointments call you crazy ghost or five in the morning? I tried to be tough, but the man was suffering from stage fright and I was brought out of breath at the door asking for another chance.
the social worker in me has not could not resist even though I had boasted just two days before his resignation from the committee-and cleft-content of which I am an honorary member.
I figured the poor man abandoned by his family and friends, a prey to loneliness and paranoia, perhaps to escape the debauchery of the rolling pin so the legitimate wife.
I could not leave him.
basically I know he has bigger problems: his woman destroyed by jealousy, the destroy the double liability, the manifestation of beauty and purity that is planted in front of all the holy days I get bored with everything THAT ' array of shiny, flowing hair, eyes and smile bambi styla Durbans.
but the latter only when the 'dental apparatus of jennifer connelly Noantri he's not grinding in the presence of other women.
(rumored to be a Doberman. I believe it.)
short, yes, indeed the life of the case that I have adopted is very difficult. and he asked me to please not leave him alone to face a life sacrificed so much. divide between sport, women and work ridiculously hard. in fact we read it to him at that stupid smile on his face that at all hours of day and night.
had not behind these and many years of experience with sociopaths almost suspect that its almost a grin of satisfaction but also to think of it can not be that way.
terence if it were an evil genius he would like the sad character nontimuovere, ie the adulterer average which feeds the company of two women. overlook the fact that one of them is a gypsy exhausted, the comparisons here are thrown ...
if Terence was like sergiocastellitto would know how to do, it's not the most difficult in the world. those of us there past? I do and just when I juggled between a man and a man Pitbul angel.
and instead it seems to him suffering from a mental disability to a level that seems different from the average to serious depending on the day, this story is a company to handle two relationships lost cause.
you put a good pace to draw up battle plans of all types because he just did not want to give it to me, but in the end, looks a bit ', can never make a success of his projects. and then what does? lacking the time to see him call me. two to six times a day. call me from home, mobile phone, calling me during work breaks, then when off from work, calling me night and day, for lunch, dinner and breakfast.
at this point I wonder if his girlfriend is suffering from chronic otitis.
are in effect its helpline in other words. but then not included in the list of non-profit organizations.
say that I tend to take care of a few cases at a time. but good.
in all this there remain a bit 'as un'allocca because I'm waiting for two months that I be awarded the Knight's Cross of Labour and the Ministry of Interior no news.
while this boy is a beautiful cross to bear.
sometimes you do not just tolerate. Now in addition to requiring a clear line around the clock also means that I will make him gifts. flowers, cakes, gadgets do not feel neglected.
but I say we are crazy!?
least the African children were grateful and humble and certainly not betrayed me with other benefactors!
I think the problem is all anonymous. plots in secret when it is much easier. you manage your time as you like and if it will always be grateful avergliene devoted to some '. however, when one knows where and how to come and then believe they are trying to make him help you. and this is not good.
the end because I have always estimated that Daddy Long Legs without saying anything to anyone who has worn a Nennella until the day before to marry him he knew only that he was generous and was broken in Patan.
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