Saturday, December 20, 2008

Why Are Prostitutes Targeted

The pleasures of a dissident (Lin Yutang)

Creo saber lo que quiero. He aquí las cosas que me harían feliz. No desearé otras.

Quiero una habitación propia, donde pueda trabajar. Un cuarto que no sea particularmente limpio ni ordenado.

Quiero una habitación cómoda, íntima and family. An atmosphere filled with the smell of books and inexplicable aromas, a great variety of books, but not too ... only those who can read or will read it again, against the advice of all literary critics in the world. None that required much time to read, none have a constant argument and holding too the cold splendor of logic.
I have
Menswear I used some time and a pair of old shoes. I want the freedom to use as little clothing as I please.


I have a home where I can be myself. I want to hear the voice of my wife and my kids laugh upstairs while I work downstairs, and I hear them on the floor below when I am working up. I

children to be children, leaving me to play in the rain and enjoy the bath as much as I shower. I want a piece of land where my children can build brick houses, feed their chickens and water the flowers. I want to go the cock crowing in the morning. I want the old neighborhood with trees and high.

I want some good friends who are so familiar to me as life itself, friends who do not need to be polite and tell me their problems, they are able to quote Aristotle and to have some color jokes, friends who are spiritually rich and who can talk philosophy and use coarse words with the same sincerity, hobbies, friends who have clear and definite opinions about people and things, which have their particular beliefs and respect mine.

I want a good cook who can cook vegetables and make delicious soups. I want an old servant, old thinks I'm a big man but does not know what my greatness lies.

I want a good library, good cigars and a woman who understands me and release me to work. Finally, I want to be free be myself.

THE AUTHORS OF THIS AREA WE WANT THIS 2009, ACHIEVE ACHIEVE ALL THAT REALLY MAKE THEM HAPPY

FIREPROOF AND NADXI

Monday, December 8, 2008

Flu Symptoms And Farting

With a little help from my friends


For Silvia, Bubu, Pilar, Anahí, Ada, Haru, Diva
Victor, Forrest, Enestto, and other fraternal ears.

Sometimes you have to go down and step back to analyze what happens to us and find a solution or to learn, in perspective, the lessons our mistakes we give away.
This weekend, for example, I had something like a revelation: I realized that, fortunately, I have formed friendly ties are strong enough to withstand any storm, and, thanks to my adventure with the very embodiment of mediocrity and emotional disability (the name you already know, but eventually it ... No one), I have recovered an ability thought to be lost: to be able to shake off any hindrance, any energy vampire seeking to plunder. I've seen, these three days, surrounded by feelings that reminded me that although there are no classes, levels, which does the same thing drop empty words, taken from "Manual of Philosophy for idiots "to try to look good and show off what you do not have, to have the personal, professional and academic background to understand and support them.

makes no sense to feel bad for people whose highest achievement in life is" dressing "to feel unique and different: you know, those who are placed the" uniform "(long and aretito pelito included) for, from a coffee table or the bottom of a bottle of beer, are the perfect solution for the world changes when they are not even capable of honest self-criticism or to underwrite shares, which touts its verbiage. Those who are assumed, superficially, as "divergent" and have never done anything concrete to the difference in your environment and have planted a tree, or have written a book, someone literate, or even to a specific project and proposed viable anywhere. Just words, many plans, wishful thinking will never concretized because that lack the capacity, tenacity, honesty and courage.

Humans, half, not interest me. I'm interested in people fair, the good words, good living and good work. Fortunately I have the honor to meet and enjoy the friendship of people like this: As Sylvia, a friend of this blog recently, who not only cared to comment on the previous post, but returned to see how I was. O Bobo that in the midst of their own struggle for freedom from emotional stinginess, has given time to listen. Anahí, so young and at the same time, so wise and brave. Diva Haru and lent me a shoulder to lean on and not say a word, neither more nor less, but the fair, which needed to hear.

And, gentlemen, three that I do know that stupidity is not a gender issue but formation (or deformation, as applicable): Victor, my dear cream, which he knew as a compliment because he get a lift really knows how to give a rational explanation of the illusions (the thyroid that plays a dirty tricks) as well as providing a friend honest and clean. Forrest that no matter what, is always there when I need it. And ernestt, talented and goal and I owe a response, lots of art and the ability to continue to learn valuable people.

to all of them, and people go through life not messing it touches ... thank you very much.

The other, which are pure music of wind should bring tattooed on the forehead, such as drugs and packets of snuff, a notice from the Ministry of Health: "Disabled emotional." Those for the "Bichonario" for those evenings entertainment that inspire us to contemplate and label the collection of critters with which we meet. Fortunately there are few, harmless tiny and weak.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Aron Diaz Cachado Desnudo

Today I can not ... Confusion


No, today I can not be intelligent, wise, proud and optimistic. Today I can not sit and think, mine is not tragedy, that there are other people that what goes worse than me.

Today I can not repeat, as I have done over the past 10 years, the best is yet to come. Today I can not, or I convince myself that I'm stronger than what happens to me, that discouragement does not touch me and I'll be fine.

'm tired and a dark cloud surrounding me ... I have not even strength to wear the mask, all day, to play the role that everybody expects to see.

Today I want to be tolerant and understanding, and generous. Today I want to be tempted to bargain, plead and bargain. To believe that it is worth cling to a dream.

I "more than a thousand lies, a thousand reasons not to cut a gash veins"

'm bottoming out, and I want to stay there because it is a real shit and lose some no need to go through the grief, because there are people watching with whom I have the "responsibility" of being a paradigm of courage and strength.

Today for the first time in a long time, I just want a place to grieve.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Gift Ideas For A Stroke Patient




Can I explain it? Because I do not understand how, when the excitement overcomes you, you may be able to flood the great details and wonderful compliments, and when some time passes, you condemn me to silence and uncertainty.
Why are you able, in a moment, take me to the most lofty landscapes and, after a while to sink in utter misery?

I looked at the back of your eyes and I liked what I saw in them
Why do you insist on muddying your best qualities? Is your purpose to be cruel or are you just trying to tie the score? Is it a strategy, a way to maintain interest, or a cruel game that gives you the power to control the situation?

I wish you, my lyrics, the name you were always bright, but when some time passes, you always do (or stop doing) something that arouses the most desolate nostalgia, the deepest melancholy, despair and terrible strong feeling that this is just a game that absolutely nobody bothered to explain the rules.

Can I explain it? Because, really, do not understand.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Mysore Mallige Blue Film Free

Among us there ...

untimely words.
words like darts enthusiasts

Words Words Words
expired quietly
words contained

dying words Words like armies
words secret words
trapped Words of reproach


In this sea of \u200b\u200bwords ...

When will we listen?