Women Giving Men Electro Torturing

draws the eye?

I walk that road all the day and every day as if percorressi for the first time.

wrong That tree that juts out from behind that wall is shaped like an outstretched hand. I was not ever aware of it.

And that house? how long are they? I had never noticed.

To Not to mention that of the sign and street sign on that building, "fitted kitchens.

And the bar? where it is checked?

A prefabricated already finished. But when they started to build it?

I walk that road every day and every day something new show up on its edge, or maybe a little 'more in there, more hidden at first glance.

A Sometimes I stop, look around. I look up and it seems to me that on that road I do not ever pass.

The outline of the mountains in the background always amazes me, so massive and so proud. Pure rock pointed. The hills that make for closer gently towards the Alps, I take your breath away. They have smooth curves and voluptuous which rest with confidence at the foot of the rock, the mountain.

At nightfall, I find the new lights on the hills. Who knows what country it is ... I've never been a great connoisseur of my territory. Yet when I see those lights on the hills, I think there is life, there is a community of people living.

Step on that road every day and I notice a new field of fruit, cereal or fallow. A country road that shyly facing the state.

A cow chews the cud looks at me with interest from behind the barbed wire on the roadside. Who knows when they put that line and wonder if the cow is happy with her new place. I had never noticed that behind that barbed wire there was a farm.

is checked in the sky a star brighter than the others. Where he had been hidden until now?

I'm too distracted. I keep looking down, on the asphalt. I could know how many holes there are to avoid scattered on it or how many curves it is made.

Probably the best things you notice when you are sitting in the car on the passenger side.

But on foot, the same thing. Sometimes I look up and realize that they demolished a house that was between two others that were left standing. In its place a pile of broken bricks and broken down.

As was made that house? There! I had seen that! but I do not remember. What color was it? How many windows had made his face? He had the stairs? A balcony?

really do not remember it.

I looked up, I felt sadness for the loss. I felt guilty because the house I had never seen, maybe some glimpse what's next? I know it was there, but it's only smoke in my mind.

prey to remorse finally not looking over the sidewalks, I had my nose, I was looking around, I was looking forward. I opened up my horizons.

is why I have not seen the damn step. A flight of angel forward with an emergency landing on her knees and hands. Excruciating pain, multiple bruises and torn stockings.

The people around you stops and watches me with a chuckle hidden under scarves and I that I get up whistling and pretending nothing.

aimed to look where you're going and if they throw another house down, sooner or later one day I will notice.

Sterling Zippo Bottom

was worth the wait ...

There is a train that passes the house that trembles and the sky bows brambles on the waiting and a chill runs along the back are years of shit maybe just a bruise life is passing in your heart that is is my body trembles to bend over your nerves are branches of canvas bones and a leaf is already dead not get more air to the head that matter to us? then who cares? much time passes and as the train passes go in another direction that no one will ever know matters us? then who cares? as the train passes and will there is a train that passes between the memories and turns back blood this evening sky and dives into the mud as I cream I remain in 'shadow drawn on canvas life is passing is your ass that shakes my body is drowning in a sea of \u200b\u200bwax crystal bones are die last leaf and the years of shit are just a bruise life is passing is in your heart that trembles is my body to lean on your nerves Canvas bones are branches and leaves are already dead not get more air to the head not matter that it's worth more than Starting not worth it I do not want to die between the ghosts of the moment I do not want to disappear among the ghosts of autumn I just want to sleep how does this fall 'summer already off in your eyes is extinguished as the train passes there is a train passes the train passing there is a train that passes us ...

Pokemon On Itouch Cheats

Tired of the same old routine? The return ... W

Dai in the hands of a poor impiegatucola a Mercedes Vito and you've will transform it into a Panda 4x4, if all goes well. If it's bad, in a cluster of horizontal or vertical lines. If it gets worse, in a crumpled heap of metal, I say.

is the story.

I call the head This time the day before. "Listen, would you hand over the cheese. They do the tasting. You should go to hospitals in Mondovi, Ceva ...." Of course you were taught to be available at work and says yes.

So the day goes to work after an already psychologically ready. But never quite ready.

take my friend Vito and childbirth. Arriving in Mondovi is not a problem, apart from the 60 km of road with the sun low in the face and blinding. The sunglasses and the thing that goes down in the car for cover from the rays are not enough.

Arrive in Mondovi and the hospital is well marked. A whole new and so cool. A post-modern architectural gem. Of those that have a hole in the center and the various plans that look out on 'I'm hole. Seen from below the ceiling seems high, but if you raise your arm on the plans and you can touch. So, walk with his head down for fear of bumping into a neon.

follow the sign "entry providers. Arrival in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere. Not an entry, not a warehouse, not a sign for "unloading".

ask the worker REFLECTOR. The disorder while working leaning against the railing with his hands crossed. Not answer.

I see a guy who looks like a vigilante because it has a rounded jacket in fabric and labels attached to an article above. The Lord graciously accompanied me to the kitchens, which are at the end of a series of corridors that turn first right, then left, then right again. I should bring the cheese back and sow as Tom Thumb, to find their way.

The kind man leaves me, I knock at the doors of the kitchen, but no one opens. Then I ask the cleaning lady crammed into a small room across the hall. The tizie rudely answer me who know nothing about. Between the lines were the words "what the hell we know. Do not break." I am approached by a gentleman who accompanied me to the lunchroom, saying that maybe he'd find someone.

Bottom line: If you are a woman, never ask for directions to other women. Ask the men who are kind and accompany you.

Learning from the stories, I just paid more than men. Arrived in the lunchroom, I find two guys who tell me that the gentlemen of the kitchens come with the food ready, and then prepare it somewhere else. For security, show me how to get to the reception where they would certainly able to give me an answer.

Miss the reception should be good for trade, make a few calls me and says, "kitchens are a Mondovi Piazza, in the old hospital." He explains the way there and I'll explain her way out of the hospital: "Follow the signs to the emergency room." At the third intersection, I almost find myself in an operating room. Kindly accompany me at the exit, followed by a kick in the ass. She was a woman.

Esco hospital. I follow the directions and arriving at the traffic lights. I had to turn right or left? After the traffic lights I had to follow the signs. Around right. I end up in the countryside. No sign to show me the path. I know that I had to turn left.

go back, trying to maneuver with Vito in a country road ... Finally I find a courtyard, enter this private house do a U-pull on the handbrake and the throne back.

I ask an old man who tells me: "go straight to the second roundabout turn right. Li There are signs for Mondovi Piazza ".

fill out grandpa and after the second round I find directions to the hospital. I say will be the old hospital Piazza. I follow them. I do not find myself back to the starting point??

A 'point I'm starting to turn around his balls. Excuse the term "turn around". Return back and travel the road from the old indicatami. No sign that says "square". Please send me information and show me another way.

Finally 'sti blessed signs that show me the path. Too bad that I begin to climb up on to the medieval streets designed for mules and carts and not for my Vito. One-way streets, narrow and various prohibitions, including massive "meaning forbidden. I do not know why, in the Middle Ages, have never thought to make roads a two-way traffic. Arrive on a square in front of a church. Impasse. The only way to escape a huge stairway.

'Ndo fuck is' I'm old hospital?? to that of a lady on the tarmac near me I should find cobblestones in front just come up the road.

A square, a huge stairway, a church, two granny.

I ask Granny.

The two begin to quibble about which grandmother was the best way to tell. As if they were discussing politics, one begins to plead thesis that it was easier for me to go back (remember the steep and narrow medieval street) because the hospital was just down the road. "We walked past Miss, he has not seen?".

The other ladies but did not agree: "It is no entry to get off." "But if we go around the long, Miss you lose again! Then I saw down at least 5 cars." Rightly so. "Listen lady, listen to me. Come back slowly, be careful because it is no entry. If it has then to reject dead wrong. The hospital is basically the road, keeping to the left."

What I do ? If you are down 5 cars against hand, I am the sixth. Can I just take the bottleneck, a huge BMW stopped me in the right way. Behind her other 6 cars. I reverse, saying bad words in turkish, Armenian, austrogoto "dkhoesms dieksejro eownewoerjo !!!!!!".

check I see that my two grandma with fearless spirit and courage of lions, go to the bottleneck. They pass the car as good fighters and they show me the green light. Parto in scoured and shove me in the wrong direction down the road.

Arrival in a yard. An abandoned building. The doors locked. But where are the kitchens? I'm a perimeter around on foot. Not a sign of life. We missed the man with the saw that came behind me and I ended the day with a flourish.

"dksejoeio dsieorneo doiseoaeoa !!!". I decide to call my boss: "kdoseneo eiowehr ewoeiwoei! 'I'm the hospital does not exist, is not! Go back with cheese! Diseonfeo ieruoeureh eudeoeoeo !!!". I close the conversation, while the other one stutters, "if you will, continues to look for ..."

I take the van, I have to go back and watch it there, like an oasis in the desert! An old apartment houses' 800. I ask a lady who tells me that the kitchens are deep in my yard.

When I see the cook: I open the truck, unloading the swollen and fuck you!

Allocation in scoured with nerves on edge.

However, one thing I learned, the best of grandma are ton ton. And for the record, the truck is back home intact.

Ice Cream And Heart Burn

the self-cultivation!

In high school I was very unlucky with the professors of letters. Between a boring teacher to death, a madman and a manic depressive, the literary culture I stopped to "Little Red Riding Hood" and "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." I so wanted to get at least a "Cinderella", but it was not in school curricula.

So, once finished high school, I have been working by himself to the great classics, which in theory should you study in school.

If you are forced to read "The Malavoglia Verga because a teacher tells you is one thing, but if you read" The Malavoglia of your own free will, it is culture sadomasochism.

As you can imagine a novel like "The Malavoglia" where all those poor Christians who seeking social redemption, an escape to the economic misery, mathematically suffer bad luck? Or rather, undergo "flood of progress"?

His father died at sea during a storm just after he had undertaken a new activity: the sale of lupins. A child throws himself into his military career and died in war. One daughter moved into town and begins to be a prostitute. Another, named Mena, care must be taken to the family and despite the good guy did the court, refuses, why? Why must look after the family. The other brother remains of the house Nespolo, marries, has children and takes her sister, Mena, as a carer. It 'the only one where life's going well because it remains attached to his homeland. The story of the five fingers of the hand off if you go to rot, do not bat an eyelid.

When the poor at the end of the book appears Alfio in Mena love back to the office and asks her to marry again, this is doing? rejects it! Why? At 27 years old now ... But go to hell!

short, Verga was a class. If you born poor morivi poor and happy. If a poor man tried to pull up two more money later this month, well ... morivi always poor, but with terrible tortures. It depends on how you wanted to die, whether happy or tormented.

Also for S & M, Verga I also read "A Tale of a Capinera, since that day I hated Verga from the bottom and I have not read a his story. ... Poor Maria

So I jumped on Guy de Maupassant .

My big sister took a couple of books by this author well hidden the bottom of a drawer. Since she always kept the Harmony hidden somewhere siccme I read them behind his back and because I thought that Guy was an author of romance porn, I happily jumped in reading "One Life" .

From the first pages I thought it was a Harmony a bit 'more sophisticated, but still reading and using all my wit I realized that no, it was a romance. This novel ended very badly. Usually, romantic novels, end well. I cried like a Fontane, from beginning to end that poor Joan abused by everyone, even his son.

not pay I read the second book in the drawer hidden Maupassant: "bel ami" . The story of an asshole climber who used women to achieve his goals. I do not remember if in the end the protagonist is dead, but I hope both of you.

Maupassant I lent to my best friend who has since become a "emo," a cultitre of sadness. The passage from this novel to the songwriter Kill Hannah for her was short. It is now locked in a community detoxification, they do listen to Giuliano Palma from morning to evening.

For me not to miss anything I also read "Madame Bovary" by Flaubert.

The story of a girl who spent her time reading Jane Austin, and when she realized that her husband, a poor country doctor, absolutely no resemblance to Darcy, decided cornificarlo.

Luckily I stopped I also try to Darcy for men, otherwise the same fate today of Emma Bovary, nipped dall'arsenico. Oops ... maybe I should not say how it was going to finish this novel, but surely you've read all!

However, Jane Austin is the best writer in the history of Harmony!

Leaving aside the harmony and the so-called realistic novels, I have given to noir. Agatha Christie was a great disappointment, Arthur Conan Doyle a monstrous ball and Edgar Allan Poe? His "Tales of Terror" were not anything to fear. I do not know how to scare people in the '800, but today is certainly more disturbing to wake up next to Valeria Marini make-up or meet at a party in Arcore to do the "bunga bunga" with Berlusconi.

To do justice to Poe, I was terrified that story where he tells a lot of people buried. When he opened the tomb, they discover that the cover of the case is scratched and the people buried in a contorted position and looking terrified. In short, people buried alive. There 'this guy who suffers from catalepsy and ... I tremble at the thought.

Today I am going crazy for the thriller. If a book is titled "A code is something, well ... not read it. I'm the romantic mood and depressive, now pass directly to the murder!