Slightly Swollen Ankle

Information bitter, that useless and misinformation: if the Pan di Stelle is made bitter.

Catania February 26, 2010

"TV is trash." They say many. Then watch it.

But I began to believe it. I have considered these essays that many believe that talk just to go against, because to be against is cool. It makes you look like someone who has thought more advanced than that of ordinary mortals.

It makes you look like someone who has a thought (often ordinary mortals do not even have one. Amoebae are common, mostly).

I have not done a lot of questions: I was bored and I darkened.

Well actually not exactly what happened.

I decided to deny his life for at least three reasons:

1) my neighbors have tinkered with the dish asserting that the signal would come better after. I do not know what happened to their homes: in my success is that suddenly Rai was no longer visible, The Seven needless to say, and magic spells Channel Five, Rete Quattro and Italy were seen with A 20 000 million pixels, Berlusconi that only makes it to do this magical thing with a tv that has a seat in 1995 that a helicopter can land and space there is left. And then I blacked: Do not ever do that Berlusconi's light at the black box in my living room. I'm not.

2) What I gave I did not like on TV: reality, reality, ass, reality, tits, ass, reality, ass, ass. In short, if I'm your neurone That is in me still I have to burn, the better I smoke a Cannetta, at least I feel the thrill of the forbidden!

3) Dumpling, extremely intelligent cat, has run chewed the antenna. Of all the cables available to chose, not surprisingly. How random is not my cat. I have not blamed: I thanked him with a double ration of dry food to the turkey, her favorite.

The first day of the period of obscurantism TV forced me, however, are confronted with a serious problem: no TV, no Tg. No breakfast mixed with information.

After a week of total abstinence from what had become not merely a lifeless carcass pitiful stationed in front of my couch, he realized that the undersigned disregard any event had happened that week in the world. That made me a socially-maladjusted-twenty-seven-ignorant. There was

to find a solution.

I said to myself: to learn the news from the web! I placed one of the favorite sites of the newspapers that I find vaguely interesting (but also what I consider junk, so I hear so many bells and my ability to judge has not gone away) and started, for me, a new information age.

So Sunday morning, as all morning, I took my nice big glass of orange juice, I got a coffee and I snapped my Mulino Bianco Pan di Stelle (children never start! addictive and then not even get there in the community that no one had the good sense to catalog it under "hard drugs") and I opened the site of the Republic.

Then I opened one of the Corriere della Sera. And here's the news

aberrant information bitter :

Humor and threats on Facebook:
'Shooting Down to target children '
Over one thousand members. Delirium in Network: "A burden to our society." Revolt broke out, then closes the group.

a sociopath so I learn all in one day anywhere within its ordinary madness, had started this group on facebook "targeting games with the kids down" . And I got the urge to open another one with this title: "play bocce ball with the sociopath" . Then I gave up, with balls that do not have any, is evident. Needless to lose this weather, it should be.

And as I read the Pan di Stelle grew bitter, something that never happened. So I therefore decided to postpone the time information after the breakfast, which is already the pleasures of life are a few compelling reasons why one should strive to negarseli right there.

and lighter than the hair on his arms stood on end (I have to buy hair removal cream, I know.)

The article reported the reaction of our Equal Opportunities Minister Mara Carfagna, whose name more than I read it causes skin reactions horrifying: "Incitement to commit a crime, wherever it occurs and whatever form, is a crime and, therefore, will certainly be pursued by the Judiciary. Managers are confident that will be identified and reported, that the Police post is doing its utmost to get rid of this group .

Mara! Mara! Fortunately, you're there to reassure you! Children with Down syndrome, fear not! If you say the Ministressa in ex skirt (that skirt is a euphemism for "used creatively as a hair band from the band behind") then there is to worry. Why

Carfagna have made Minister for Equal Opportunities, it is true, but they explained it to him mica What are these strange things that should administer. It has not even his fault poor, the Ministry gave no instruction manual!

She's the one that is wary of the Communists, because they grew up with his grandfather who always said to be wary of the Communists, their way of doing and thinking. That seems like a good reason to be wary: the ability of analysis, self-judgment, to let her highbrow leftist fantasy. I, for example, if I was diabetic and had the lungs for blacks blacks smoking four packs a day of MS red mica filled up with sweets and I would stop smoking, because my grandfather mica has never stopped despite having diabetes and lung incinerated ! Wisdom Grandparents should be handed down, of course, not forgotten! She is the one de

: "I will fight 'all forms of discrimination against homosexuals" that this so you think: "Where's My Car Watch this with the face of Beijing and the eyes from hyperthyroidism: beautiful and smart!" And then read the rest of the press and find that: "That said, however, 'the GLBT movement can not' demand for same-sex couples will 'awards similar to those guaranteed to the family, it' the patronage of the Government to respond to events more 'to logical exhibitionistic than anything else ", referring to the Gay Pride in Rome in 2008. What I wanted to give it to him Where's My Car to the Constitution and also a dictionary of Italian! Because if you read that "All citizens have equal rights" and what it means "equal" do not know and if you request it up to count to ten evading the one, three, five, seven, and nine, we concluded that there is not much. And like a pound of Eutirox I would give that the thyroid should not be underestimated.

She's the one that " Rome is the capital of the Christian Gay Pride then there would have a different taste" . Come on, I do not say? Fool that I had always thought it was the capital of Italy!

Okay, come on, we read something lighter, a little more open 'sites and I find this very interesting article. Interesting to know that at least the Spears is back in the community and took 20 kg and Manuela Arcuri says that Clooney could be his but has made her miss the chance and now is the one with the Canalis ( Lucky you.)

What?? She was not the eater of men who slept with her did not fire because it was all too good?

So if things do not know how do you survive? Are you talking about when you go to the beautician?

Here is the article, information useless :

comes the corset for men.

"In the stores," Marks & Spencer "from January 7 in England," Bodymax "is the name of the head, was his trump card in the complex system of seams and in a hidden panel that support the figure and flatten the rolls of flab. Two models to choose from, in a tank top (cost about 13 €) and the other t-shirt (almost € 17), both in stretch cotton, available in both black and white ".

's so that we always played for the rude man, hairy, sure of himself, sweated, abdomen with the turtle, which should not ever ask for. But you imagine that a height of passion takes off his shirt and makes you: "Dear untie the laces of my new 150 000 corset and then her belly overflows in your bed like a raging river! "Honey excuse, I'll get the vacuum cleaner, there's lard in bed, I told you a thousand times that you eat in the kitchen!"

But there is a bright side: you and your he can finally exchange a garment, "Honey, I put on 2 chiletti, can I borrow your corset?". An idyll for the fusion of the couple.

And then, maybe we should live as a hermit not to suffer all this.

not know what is happening in the world, so that the Pan di Stelle is not bitter.

not read the newspapers of any size.

not turn on the TV that always shows the same faces, the same format, the same soup that by dint of heat it hath been undone without remedy.

and threatens to unravel, even your brain, without remedy, that the neurons, you know, do not reproduce.

And the brain discards the society that does not move as evidenced by the group against children born Down on facebook, as evidenced by the fact that a corset for men is defined in the above-mentioned "An essential item in male wardrobe " (and the application of the concept of" essential "to an item of clothing I always had serious doubts). The
discards some information presented to the world as absolute truth. Which only has the absolute distortion.

E 'of this news this morning, the misinformation :

that remains is to look in the belief that the Italians, all, know the difference between acquittal and prescription. The Italians, everybody, realize the sneaky way they play to form our thoughts and mold them as children who were children when I did I was also with Dido.

that remains is to comment on this news, in a phrase of Robert Mitchum: "I love television, especially 'cause you turn it off easily."

Just as easily I closed the pages of many articles I've read and I forgot to protect my neurons have to survive, enough has been fitted, in this jungle that is the information in the Italy of 2010. Moreover

close off, you can refuse. The rejection is a choice. Change angle. Taking his eyes from the clamor of the mass that inform the masses. Recapture analysis, opinion, thought.
It 's the amount that scares me.

The amount of people who are not accustomed to seeing.

Silvia.

Trade Pokemon Emulator Mac To Ds

Look Who's Talking Now (and who gives orders, as well). Ideally

Catania February 24, 2010

Meatballs are

Hi, I have 4 months and one live with that dissociated, rupofobica, pseudo-writer, half psychologist Candy. I am a cat, for the uninitiated. You're wondering why I have this absurd name right? I know you think you are obese! Not true! The stray cats that wander around in the courtyard below take me all around.

course, a nickname that is what Candy could be expected? What

then you know it as Candy, Silvia called for me and is my mistress. Or rather, she thinks so, and I, who are much smarter than she, I believe him. The veterinary

taught her ethological punishment. This had nothing better to do, I say? Since I learned how to blame I can not sharpen the nails on the couch in peace that comes and she gives me a fingerprint on the nose. Fingerprint even when I go up on the stove and when I hang the tent, fingerprint when I sleep in the sink! It is convenient, as it does not understand? And then he always goes around with a spray bottle in hand, says "Amuchina. The spraying everywhere. For example, I climb on the table and she sprinkles! It seems the fifth of Ghostbusters with that thing, thank goodness that does not dress like them! E 'rupofobica, nothing to do. Are you wondering how I know? Are cat a home that has a lot of psychology books! I document myself. Mica is an ass! I am a cat and what the heck!

In short ... I'm not so free to do what I want. At least when she is at home. Fortunately, the lady nag at least seven hours a day fades, says it is working, then what is the job I do not know. Be that as it always leaves me alone. When I'm angry black back. Thanks, you say, you're black! But it's not entirely true ... my face is white, also the stomach and chest, ah well the legs. But when I get angry I become all black.

But she gets angry when you do not dare to write. But what has a lot to write this? Anyone who thinks he is Banana Yoshimoto? In the evening, stands in front of the computer and writing, never a bit 'of television! I just want to try to distract her company and she accuses me! Insensitive!

And I do hear the same music, wait, wait ... the names I know them! I listen: De Andrè, De Gregori, Afterhours, Alanis Morissette, Carmen Consoli and Radiohead. It goes well, I like, but enough is enough! Change! I want something gattosa, I know: "44 cats for six in a row with the rest of the two" ! Candy does not listen to me, says the numbers are coming in hives! Who understands this .... mah! At best, I grant "Alice looks at the cats and the cats look in the sun " that is not so bad!

the evening at home can never be at peace. There are always people. Silvia says that annoys you to be alone, that is if one does not cook and then does not eat. But do not ask me mica permission to bring his friends to my house.

that there is a one evening and a well. Kugy Silvia calls it, she claims that it was my aunt and vice is my mistress.

Now you've done quite enough!

Candy If I hear reproaches me: it says that I speak Italian and that "Now you've done quite enough" is too "Sicilianization.

E 'crazy.

Oh lady, I meow, you noticed? It 'no use talking to me in Italian! What do you think there are meow meow Sicilian and Italian?

aunt wanted to give me antidepressants the first day that I moved here. Vice mistress aunt does not shine very intelligent to me. I wanted to see her in a new place without a mother and sister as she was. Antidepressants give it to him to your sister! Have not you? Give it to your brother!

Then there is one, which she says is her best friend, who is at least twice a week. When he Candy Kitchen. Exceptional event! Sometimes cooking him: I think it's even more good. Bother me that they come to eat it then I can not stand on the table the table and I love it.

There's another one that tells me that when I have something satanic. But how dare you? But we have seen him? Then I have understood that it is also his fault that my name is Dumpling, Silvia wanted to call me Delia. What elegance! What charm! Delia that I liked! Who wants this? Good thing then disappears for weeks! It's not that I can tolerate so much that one look at me as if I needed an exorcism.

Look honey, we have made it clear one thing: I do not like the water if it is not even blessed! Come to my house with a priest and I'll make the end of the couch, right? Then this guy says I do a life shit, I do not have incentives, which live as a segregated and my whole world begins and ends between the couch and the balcony. But one thing I want to say it to him: first the bad words are said in the presence of two ladies, then the life of shit (I can tell) will make him free I eat, sleep and play, and he's just a chronic envious because I do and he kept the no!

Then there is that when you always bring wine, and Silvia and this mad I do not drink. But why? Also I want to laugh like a fool as they do! Then this port wine for Silvia ... ohhhh me and for all? A packet of crisps, a can of salmon pate, I know ... Rude! We are two in this house! Just because you are not of the same race discrimination? Racist!

Then there are many other people that are sometimes all at once. Stationed for hours on my couch, and I do not know where to put them and then do the ambushes. And they laugh! What the hell are you laughing? I'm making an ambush at the corner of the carpet, it's serious! Then the carpet when you eat me laugh!

And leave me alone!

We come to you in my arms!

What's all this fuss? Why call me

Polpettina? Bleah

these nicknames from teenage sweethearts, I'll have to make the blood glucose curve because of you, maybe you already I have diabetes!

However I believe that I can not complain: I do a cat's life in an apartment. Every now and then placed me on the balcony with the cats meow and below. They tell me who are cold and do not have a roof and that eating is not always easy. But I eat as a bison. But what is the bison? Anybody want to explain? Silvia always tells me: "Eat as a buffalo, you're a meatball!" And while the meatballs makes me not ever, ever make me eat those biscuits! But my friends are worse off without a master, are bony, they have a cold and chase mice. The other day with a skeleton of a cat's meow, below, which I said, "You never know what freedom is." And I told her that being free does not mean chasing mice!

I caught a cat, I will.

I know that freedom is an inner state!

What ignorance rampant!

Bah ... I kept segregated from my life like it. Did I also said the skeleton of cat box below that I, perhaps, I'll never know what is freedom but he certainly will never know what love is. But I know why nag mistress, even if I do I reproached for mischief, when it comes out gives me a kiss on the head and tells me always: "Do not you run away you know! What do you escape if I die. "

If this is not love ...

E 'strange my Candy, always says that wants to live alone but at night it fills the house with friends and threatening to run away if I die.

At this point I do not know if there is very clear who has the power here.

The fact that I took the blog should also make you think.

I almost change as well: "My name is Meatball."

Sounds good, right?

I leave you my greetings, dear readers. You too, now, you are mine!

Dumpling, The Chief.

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annihilated

Catania February 20, 2010

you know it so well that I almost easier to tell you that myself.

She asks me, always, to write her.

I tell him, again, that maybe I could use humor to tell it.

But she did not, says he prefers when I try to make people laugh.

Where You say which is cool and not let go. And tell him in many, perhaps too many, you begin to believe it and stop pretending.

told him the order: Men Photocopy, roommate Figo, AmicaDiUnaVita, labeler Serial, Moro. They told him a million other people whose names did not remember them, which perhaps were of little importance, but the merit of having been exposed we had. It honors all.

She believed that cold, no, it was not.

He believed he could play at the iceberg, even a lifetime, that despite the size of the iceberg, it would have moved at will and put under the sun to melt it, if only he had wanted. It is overrated, and this was a defect that did not yet know good to have.

She believed not to know that love is love and longing she was dying.

and wanted someone he could devastate it, that he died still standing had grown tired. But since he knew that nobody would be able waived. That was not the time to invest in the love that let you live, and love that kills around did not see, because, wrongly, believed that those are good for hiding to avoid being ever find. And what was she to hide this, right, eluded her.

She did not understand the urgency of those other breath in my face that emanated from the cold. It was thought that they could cover well and get their own way, the rest is under the warm blankets of his bed that cold bear it with great enthusiasm, then why bother to make the fire did melt?

And you had said to each:
"You want me to melt? And then you have got to make a container, if you're not that is the doorway, everything is cold here, you get a pneumonia if not dislodge. "

And someone had left, someone had packed up and had made three sweaters, which bronchopneumonia did not want his nose already flowed and hands were cut small bleeding wounds.

And you had the door open, the mica was dying of their absences and patches for their bleeding wounds he had none.

metereopatica She believed to be in the morning but opened his eyes and rose to the sky and the sun bothered her and made her weep, if you do not cry. And I realized at once that that sun was just a blow to volunteer his humor always gray and that it would take the rain not to suffer dissonance.

She believed that every day ends with the night quite by accident, and thought that the night was not, after all, the normal trend of the day but it was an expression of divine error. And I thought because the night colors all things in black and white, as they become, can not see them anymore. And if you do not see are not there. And the night gives you an ardent and exciting deception and the next day the sun brings you back to the colors and what you saw was black and there is again a millimeter long and the road did not fade.

She had a flair for spiccatissima "Doing and undoing all the time and love and badly beat and raise" sang like Sinatra, and she listened and believed that he had known, perhaps in another life, and he dedicated it to him, that song. That he knew the words to sing her gestures that creates and destroys, which builds and demolishes who loves and then no longer loves, suddenly, and forgets and never knows where the tap and go wherever he decides to go after not is never the right choice.

And you, then, I told everyone he was fine in its ice, the sun bothered her eyes, that there is no need to stop being cold to enjoy life, overreach that is of little use if the implication is that you can fall. And if games not to make them walk the tightrope and always keep on the ground do not run risks.

and make fun of that label Serial while putting a label with the expiration date for love, their love, inviting her to tell and let go. It had told him, a winter afternoon, we have just to go with an expiration date set as branding on the neck, is not only naive but just idiots. She megalomaniac conqueror of his game that captures the challenge and understood that it would not play that game to be won if it were not for love and not his fame as a conqueror.

And on a Sunday how much she had come to AmicaDiUnaVita, with red wine. It was believed that two glasses and two friends were a perfect mix to help you warm up and talk about, later.

E AmicaDiUnaVita had asked him, if she liked.

And she looked at her as you look crazy and said, "It would be in my bed if I did not like."

E AmicaDiUnaVita had only said "Tell her" while she was already NO, with his head.

"I shall neither take nor lose it, why not tell him anything," she whispered Her, and that Sunday had signed any pact with the unsaid.

would become ice in there and we would have frozen all feeling.

"I do not need him to be happy."

E AmicaDiUnaVita had filled the cup again. But this time it hoped to serve as a warm up, let alone to melt. It was only required to state:

"You do not need him to be annihilated happily."

Silvia.

How Do I Paint An Aluminum Travel Tarler

Love Cloudy

Catania February 5, 2010

Magdalene loved flowers and had made a lovely job.

Every morning lifted the shutter of his shop and put the flowers in the street because everyone could smell and appreciate the color.

smell you do not feel it.

was made of flowers, stoned.

nostrils burned, as the white powder that tastes and smells even destroys them to say.

It was made of flowers for his mother not being able to do.

cold and calculating mother whose love for the stems and petals was like the thorn of a rose that is too curved, autoimmune disease, and sticks in his own standing, which comes to life and deny it to him that life in a wound. It was a tear in the stem-mother's personality. How can love something that computer that has a life? A life so short that you have some more, love to be able to concentrate in the few days when the leaves are bright green and the petals.

Madeleine and her siblings were brought up as if they were flowers.

water as required.

Love as required.

But it was enough for the flowers and not for children. But Mother calculator no longer had. This is

.

settle.

He did not say but it never got communicated to every gesture and every movement denied to them and handed over to a flower even more.

"Maddalena you call it that because all over the world Mary Magdalene has always flowers, in the most magnificent cathedral and ruins of nell'altarino periphery. I've given this name in the hope that you never lack the flowers. "

And it was the sweetest thing that had ever said. The only, as well.

And if you miss the flowers was made Magdalene, Mother calculator should not be disobeyed, or love anything and can not live without love. Packaged wreaths for the dead, red roses for lovers, and bouquets for the brides . A leaf pruned and a bit of gloss on the petals as the caresses of his mother, who believed in a code shared a very private ritual of love and dedication.

He bought red roses for lovers.

And many have had, it was said Maddalena, and love them all, because the flowers were in love and its language could not be anything else would have died of non-love.

He used to buy six and eradicated from the deck and leaves them on the counter.

"For you", she said, after having paid. And it was as an affront to Maddalena love having a little 'more than pink, more than others, most of the sunflowers and gardenias, which were all for his mother the flowers and the pink no, it was for her. The cure was as there must take care of themselves, not to let go, to say every day, "I also love you."

And he loved her, because he spoke his language. One taught by a calculator Mother, so inaccessible that she had struggled to learn grammar and how did he know so much Magdalene you explain.

And he had made a big mistake to think that the evaluation would not depend on the pink. What if tomorrow there was more cash in the jar next to the whiskers was the same, so there are many others of roses in the shop, and that, because they can do without it?

But it kept petals dried and blackened in a box which was like a tomb on which he could cry the pain away or destroy the rage.

"A petal dry and cloudy black-and-her mother would say 'pointless and should be discarded."

"It will be ashes," she thought, but not him saying that one day would bring that on the grave, to merge with her, that there was no other way to be part of it, and the care of her flowers just wanted to send her a pat and a hug, but needed to melt the ash, only the ashes of the petals.

The ashes of the ashes of Mother Him. The ashes of two denied love in a language too complex if you do not kill you makes you crazy.

And this is not love, it's just ashes of dried petals and blacks. Petals cloudy.

Cloudy Love and nothing else.

Silvia.