Sunday, October 31, 2010
Baby Footprint Tattoo Ideas
UI UIISH A HALLOUEIN Christmans (TRANSLATED: I HOPE YOU DIE BEFORE HALLOWEEN, SO 'SAVING THE MI carved pumpkin, and' a big job)
GENIALITA' E UMILTA' A VAGONATE PIGIATE TUTTE INSIEME OLTRE IL DI FUORI DELLA (FU) PERSONA EINSTEIN?
ESISTE.
RISIEDE IN QUESTI DUE TIZI.
SENZA PAROLE.
CHE MUSICA ASCOLTI?
FOTTE UN CAZZO: RECATI A VEDERE I TESTA DE PORCU OVUNQUE SI TROVINO.
E' UNA LEZIONE DI...
VAI!
RESISTENDO FINO ALLA FINE DEL POST CAPIRETE (e DOPO DOVRETE ULTERIORMENTE CAPIRE) A COSA SI RIFERISCE QUESTA.
AIAIAIAI, CHE DOLORI.
PUZZOLENTI.
fuck OR FOR unleash a war rebel against the system that keeps you bound to live SLAVE 'A LA COCK?
Maccio ', celebrate the new year.
AH, AND I thought that was AN IDIOT!
not pulled the water.
The house was saturated with a hinged water an indefinable smell, counting that the factors associated sensory, then logically interpretable, were two of the cans and human shit.
Someone had shit, no one pulled the water.
There was a strange atmosphere. When I went home
s'odea column Halloween sound of carpentry, yet nothing good omen 'similar to involuntary osmosis, as if osmosis can be a phenomenon of acceptance.
just happens. There were twenty
scratch scattered on the ground in the street (municipal land), illusions vanished in a torn unknown guys. They tried it, they were disappointed, as compounds returned to his seat without saying a word no.
attain enlightenment is not as easy as I thought. You
the right people behind us. The lighting is
agent.
Without acknowledgment of receipt.
t'avvisano Manco.
(not) Succede.
Guidavo senza una meta, andavo a far colazione; è più interessante quando il personaggio si muove liberamente; da al lettore l'illusione che, almeno il protagonista, sia dotato di una sorta di libero arbitrio che forse verrà sfatato verso il finale del racconto, comunque è una caratteristica che di solito ne il lettore, ne lo scrittore possiedono, e si accorse, sulle note più gravi del violoncello, quando il testo s'apprestava a carezzar' il punto più alto del significato che voléa trasmettere...
Non è difficile disimparare.
Non impari, così fai prima.
La follia, quella vera.
Tutti.
Tu.
Io.
Me.
The madness dwells here. She
.
Command.
This does not mean that I will be salaried.
I had a vague idea of \u200b\u200bwhat was going on.
I only found out later, shortly after, because there I was thinking.
gloomy atmosphere of the October 31, now, now, was scepter, orchetrando moreover, the performance of my (In) skeleton staff, propinano a relaxed holiday package, such as abnormal posture taken by me.
No Leopardi.
he had the right people around. And
Tampin.
The ill-treated his balls.
DO NOT HAVE A DICK, Yesterday I spent COOKING IN THE AFTERNOON.
MI LOOK STRANGE MADNESS, CI'm talking about.
writing while the door of the DOOR TALK, I DO NOT SEEM VALID IN TERMS OF GENDER.
Where are we heading?
Why is mandatory to have a goal?
is because we want to be safer?
With great sadness, I ask the incessant (too many adjectives, too many horn downstairs) stream of consciousness: how can an adult (hopefully) Disenchantment, procrastinating, hanging out, swear, get in hand, to succumb to (not ) the name of security, from the moment she, it, that person has previously swallowed and is RIspera, digested, the idea that one day, maybe even a few minutes, there will be no more?
Why do we want certainty, when the largest, incontrovertible truth is that we die?
This is a comic horror story, is what I write is my life.
And trust me, do not worry.
With the right smile, the proper skill, you can run around, eat like a model citizen, without paying.
quantifiable Thirty minutes ago it happened.
Smile denoting security, assuring the operator. Greetings
rare, out of the way, without paying the appropriate cost / manager which manages the (not I became ill, the female audience), without any weight on his conscience / having more weight in your wallet if you have one of those people that insists on cataloging all of himself, more general business cards, memory storing each paper into a container attractive tissue to be fixed firmly to the right or the left buttock, according to the lefties and / or destromania.
Destrofilia.
I do not mean nazi.
A talk with the stones do not solve anything, unless you believe in reincarnation.
there reincarnation?
happens "the ..."?
These are not questions to do.
So I think, unfortunately, are not, 'fuck Descartes with his teacher, now, now, is not a problem to create art.
Reincarnation?
Believe it or not ...
NOW, NOW, NOW, WHERE ARE YOU?
Physically you are there, in front of the screen.
life led you to having to put in the hands of a genius of my caliber (.38) and maybe you think it's a great thing.
Let's say you're living.
depends on many things.
take it for good.
Here.
're living.
I'm living.
... there is!
How many months there is the universe?
Some say some thirty, some voters per l' 11 milioni, tal altri per migliaia di anni (mal interpretare la bibbia a propulsione ne genera di codeste burle), tal non so la contrapposizione di “taluni/tal altri”, nel senso, voglio abbattere le barriere strutturali del linguaggio semi concreto, eppur hanno inventato/comunemente abbiamo accettato per Ozmosi codificate forme di linguaggio che ti intrappolano nello scadere (come una confezione di fagioli biologici aperti 20 sec. fa) perciò non puoi continuare il luogo comune senza auto ingabbiarti in un luogo comune.
Il luogo comune è un posto dove la giunta comunale può riscuotere i diritti d'autore.
Non per questo gli operai e gli altri subordinati possono trarne vantaggio dal punto di vista crisp, not John ("Jack" exists only in the novel), but pocketed the money / expendable for a better future in the company of recommended drugs.
What's on TV today?
Ah, yes, the list of drugs coolest of the moment.
Tell me what you assume, I'll tell you how you are.
fact, do not tell me, I just analyze your tears.
I think it is like trying to think, have done so already having sex pre-programmed will never, ever s'attuerà.
's up to you?
there free will?
I Sofficini Findus is a tangible proof of our weighted character to / from adults, so yes, I can say with certainty that free will exists.
precisely do not know when or how it was invented but just now ("horror" is an anagram) we are not widely provided.
Then a gleam of polished instrumental madness makes me play to be normal according to the canons of the paying public, the judge, the Executioner, the executioner, the projected figures, existing only in my head, I pretend nothing, starting to tell me what upset this week.
You have to dig into the past.
I know it hurts to admit certain weaknesses.
heartened.
weakness, "the concept of" whole I write stuff there because we over-valued, we have gone beyond the beyond.
is not important.
I know.
I know.
I learned the truth by Padre Pio.
We are only 4 pages.
do not know if you're still there.
I think you are tired.
thinking how presumptuous I think, I am convinced you know what you're thinking.
would be shipped in a gas chamber, no?
Sappi son (I high, will stretch from top to bottom) in a gas chamber have been there.
do not mean the gas chamber type I farted while I was sleeping and the door was shut tight drastically forever Another had it that farted in my place in the same room tight.
I have conquered death.
the gas chamber I started to converse with gas, I convinced him to spare me.
gas saved me.
With that savings has created the public debt of which you are / are (psychophysically) slave.
Do not despair.
has begun an innovative new edition of Big Brother.
rooting for this year ...
typhoid ...
Some time ago, typhoid fever was a disease. Today
hath been translated as "affection".
Progress follows these patterns.
I am proud to live in a pianeta a tinta unita.
Gli da un tocco “di”.
Ho progettato un libro bianco di contenuti.
Scrivo una riga dove ti sprono a crearti universi mentali non gestibili, dopodiché sarai tu a impostare, compilarne le pagine.
Mi pagherai affinché io, col mio benestare, ti darò la possibilità di aprirti a te stesso, a chi vorrà leggere il libro preimpostato/da te dopo strutturato.
Le nano tecnologie sono i gadget elettronici escogitati dai servi di Biancaneve.
In inglese è “Snow white”.
È un titolo vagamente cameliano, non parlo di sigarette, non faccio pubblicità occulta (andrei all'inferno, trattando topics banned by the church)
I speak of the group.
bandages.
the band.
The camel.
Du iu no?
question teg I can do well.
Camel guitarist singer fell ill, called off the turn (I repeat that I write things I feel like shit, they are an adult, I'm free, I go to bed when I want, I assume Nutella at my discretion, so resigned, if you've read this far you have committed at least since resigned your tenth birthday) and nobody has been able to see more live.
bad.
Snowgoose was a great record, wonderful use of the orchestra in it.
Pensare che era un progetto per un “audiobook”, come li chiamiamo ora.
Era un libro per bambini, la favola dell' “oca della neve”.
Nello scrivere mi sono porso nel torso una domanda che non dirò, anche se la posso anche scrivere, le pagine sono gratis, mica mi cacciano se vado avanti a oltranza, e sì, dài, tutto bene, i bambini stanno bene, anche se a casa mia ad una Barbie manca la testa e misteriosamente il bambino non si siede da una settimana, dicendo “Gesù detto sedere seduti peccato”, arrivo qui.
COMPIERE GLI ANNI.
Sembra quasi un traguardo.
E' UN TRAGUARDO.
Pensa quanto sei bravo.
You birthday.
You have reached a goal.
least for the record, you should be sad.
When your birthday is in less than a year living on earth.
It depends on how you live.
For me it is a goal, knowing that I was not much left.
for you?
As a child I was thinking, that I have squola award rejected so often imagined (I was talking to myself in third person without knowing it) if life was like in elementary school and after squole.
you imagine.
Every year, when it arrives on your birthday you have to do a test with the almighty.
he / it ("It" in English, pronoun impersonal thing or object undefined) puts you difficult questions, TI asks the questions, some questions of the oral exam, such as maturity, and you say what you know.
If you do not get old ball.
may seem positive, fail not to get old.
"" "" ""
-How many have you?
- I have 43 years.
- it does not show, you look like a child of 15 years.
- I know. But I was rejected.
- How it works, here on earth?
Nothing, the porcoddio you ask questions and oral examination as the years go by if you bowl in your head but the skin does not t'invecchia, not even the brain, then you are condemned to repeat the year, the cells will freeze criogenizzandosi, biological processes are known human confiscated by Beelzebub (the horn of beer) and never gets old.
Spontaneously. If you were
fear death, old age, decay generally in the 80s was enough to become a vampire by Joel Shumacher.
Now there is the question of universal state.
not pass it?
does not age.
do not walk / do not get old.
I tell you the truth, man.
... This too is a lie, how can I have friends if they are only focused on myself and my physical person legal? Estimated
interlayer.
Tanto per fare due chiacchiere con me stesso, la persona che amo odiare.
È un toccasana.
E ripeto che ti dico la verità, anche se mi sono fermato a contemplare le due “E” di inizio discorso.
Una era con l'accento, l'altra senza.
Una significa verbo essere.
L'altra significa NON verbo, bensì congiunzione.
Tra l'essere e il congiungere, quale scegli?
La busta o i premi?
Mi rimanda alle lotterie sul lungomare di quando avevo anatomicamente 11 anni, avevo comprato (“acquistato” si dice nei racconti rispettabili) il primo album dei Doors, l'omonimo (non è il titolo the disc, "namesake", was known simply as "The Doors") and I was old enough to do something which I regretted to create me permanent youth disorder, while my mother is still struggling with the stench in the toilet, claiming that it is my fault, but there is no guilt, the importance lies in the evil smell.
There was a raffle with the guy hand microphone inside the cabin filled with premium bikes toaster ski turntables televisions VCRs boxing gloves mannequins (they were well, a fair ballardiana atrocities close to home), then sunglasses , eyeglasses and buy a ticket with a number, waiting for the extraction, mica was like slavery statale dove ti tocca aspettare due estrazioni settimanali, là ogni sera faceva almeno trenta estrazioni (durava poc'oltre la mezzanotte), sognavi di vincere un premio per sentirti più appagato, dimenticandoti dei traumi infantili, sedando l'ego.
Era questa la domanda figa che mi ricordo?
Era questa.
SIGNOOORA, VUOLE LA BUSHTA O I PREMI?
LA BUSSSSSHTA O I PREMI?
M.
mm
Mmmm.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MI PIO IL PROGIUTTO!
Dicette cushì.
Quello che mi ricordo rispose così.
Era una domanda clear, concise, minimal, not radical, very chic.
- LADY WANTS THE Bushta or bonuses?
- I think I PROGIUTTO Pio.
That day, more than just "knew" I was convinced I had a lot of road to be done, at least for only remotely match those results.
I went away disconsolate, without seeing the assignment of progiutto.
not heard a pencil from school required.
I'm excited.
why you wet your pants, Luigino (...?).
- It's so good that Jesus uses to let you know that you were wrong.
- But I'll go to hell, Father?
- Do not think about these things, son. Enjoy life on earth.
Ciuccialo as pope.
- So?
- No shit, you're hurting me. If you do not learn now I'll break your face with a fist, you disintegrated teeth, so you will not ever rise to the father.
- "Father"? Fuck you mean, Papa?!
- is a term used in the Florentine collodion story of Pinocchio.
- Daddy, Daddy, how the fuck is your name? I confused ideas, talk hard, I, I, I do not remember, I just want to suck everything as a Calippo.
- See son? Did you learn without violence. The Steiner method works. Montessori in the ass.
- but the show was beautiful.
- I said to please the body of the mother. I've seen it all just to make me jacking off with the protagonist.
is why I do not recommend that parents scold their children.
not beat your children.
Kill.
THEN ONLY THEN
scopateveli.
end up in prison but will end up on television.
What great things you have in life?
Exactly.
Once you are finished on TV, what more do you want?
Ok, girls smashed more cocaine up my ass, but in the meantime be content.
a child abused me.
Me forgot it.
leggett Then the book that Melissa P. and I inorgoglitti because there seemed to sweep the pages could well be poetic.
I fell in love with myself.
adored what I had done. The
odorai too.
I continued to read books by Melissa masterpiece. Then the professor maeshtro
dicette I read stuff higher, imbortande.
I present the 120 Days sodomitic, desadeiano book more Pasolini DVDs.
Voletta not read the book, it was too big, too long then ... I thought.
Pensetti. Paper
too big?
too long?
but may serve to magnify the Pirsing. How
the tunnel.
Amalgamai youth culture, slang added to knowledge, associai the book a nice cock, the concretizzai with its beneficial properties.
me I could be a culture that made the hole in the ass.
I could become educated and span.
Then after that I dicette Parlett professor with the book was to read, not by shoving it.
And there's love for literature svanette as a fatuous fire in January.
Did you ever think?
I tell wisps.
think.
fact, do not think, I'll tell you.
Our ancestors did not have television.
They had no drugs.
aim was sin.
Biestamare (mean swearing in dialect, for those who do not sapetttttte) made you go to hell without even the possibbili (OCME I write I think) to play the joker if you do not know.
What did they do?
Yes, Lovecraft's books (the name is changed, the Marlboro Company which bought the company logo and Kraft (good things from the world) takes possession of the identity of the lone Providence and changed the spelling) is fucking True, it was so.
summary.
There was no TV.
You could see people taking the drugs for you while having sex and committing sin biestamanado (now you understand that means; fuck you, I also explained, do not make me Irara) and were there to turn over the opposable thumbs, and sometimes the toes (foot thumbs are in the common semantic grammar, then you also tell the story of the feet and inches on me I also thank you and thank your children escaped mutilation, this is meaningless as the rest, trust that it has, I mean "sense") as well, guess they were doing?
I say men beyond those of the past "with" (read the above line, I'm not going to repeat ... well, you know I do? Copiaincolla) there was no TV. You could see people taking the drugs for you while having sex and committing sin bistamanado (It is now clearer, although I've fucking well explained, now I'm angry) and they were there to turn over the opposable thumbs, and sometimes the toes, that is ok, are the big toe (one foot "thumbs"? Here GMOs) into the common semantic grammar.
Then I will tell the story well on the thumbs of the feet and thank me as I thank your children prior to the mutilation survived.
Guess what they did?
NIGHT in the nineteenth century, the unemployed went in cemeteries.
were lost, haggard, frightened frightened, yet went to the cemetery, since there does not do better (yes, but there was a sin and you ended up in hell with the approval of padreINterno, lord of the absorbent OB).
They went around cemeteries, they invent stories.
were superstitious, not like now that people believe in made-up stories from various churches Le Bastard millennia ago then they do so because they know that forgiveness and then ask people to hell and ugly post-mortem there should be no no no no no to nothing.
moral of the story briefly summarized.
no longer needed.
Die.
T'imputridisci.
stink.
is not true that you are no longer alive.
We explain how.
We explain how. From
live smelt, farts, t'ostinavi to live. From
dead give off the same.
is rotting, but it is compulsive action as the others.
The corpses of the past, which have evolved as those of today, were buried in wooden coffins for the dead not often steep package as those that cost at least two thousand euro daily plus all the service the funeral director who also invented gadgets (not mica those sales will be for work) type the key ring-shaped coffin that then all they want because "quant'ebbello where did you get where you bought it no friend, I have not bought, it was consolation prize that they gave me because he now dead grandfather is decaying as now, yes, the fatal course of the physical deterioration of a human being "no longer acting as an" (a polite way to describe the body).
Moral of the fable and the intertwining (see, going to school? You pigiano in clichés semantic head, you will not free more, unless you sign a Scientoloy or other sects of enthusiasts crazy brain washers).
Ancient cemeteries were unemployed, in which they are perversely preserved cadavers.
're dead.
Yet they keep you.
underground.
But is not that we have thrown away. Go
rotting.
I know it's not your fault but you can not resist. Go
rotting.
Produce gas without push the sphincter.
Do not fart gas.
What's happening?
Wisps. The wisps are
Loff post mortem.
Imagine.
You're dead, you asked for forgiveness, then you can go to heaven.
're in heaven.
Physically, indeed, souls, because it is one that rises to the kingdom of heaven, you are in paradise.
're in the clouds.
know tomorrow's weather forecast not looking at the weather.
Observe your loved ones.
watch over them.
On earth there is a part of you, indeed, let's say that you were everything yourself when you identify us to the point of just asking you a slave to a mortgage to buy a big screen TV 3d there then you realize that you do not need as much as you thought. Your body
deceased remained on earth fart.
takes to give off.
addition you peccat, or because it is a sin ... socreggiare
You know what happens?
Eh?
The people of the nineteenth century, addentratasi in cemeteries as unemployed and multi settlor of free time galore at will, he saw wisps of your farts, and mounts the head, writing horror stories of cock, you invented the myth of Chtulu of Halloween, several films of carpenter etc etc and you know what happens?
you sinned on many levels.
You farted. You farted
dead.
In fact the more you fart the brain of the living ("creativity" they call it) and you have double, triple layered sin, in various sizes.
Sin multidimensional.
What's happening?
Eh?
You know what happens?
No you do not know, otherwise it will not hang by my fingertips (I'll talk to you in person and hang "lips" but it is a sneaky excuse to ask you a blowjob free, of course you pay nothing at all is done, no ?).
short.
're in heaven and end up in hell because your body on earth has sinned without your permission.
It's a great catch.
is a inculatura.
might as well sin. So
sins.
Rutta, fart, swear.
So you do not nothing happens.
And if you think all this goes beyond mental blowjob horror horror means that I have reached my goal because ...
because ...
Nothing.
I wanted to give you a nice horror story to celebrate all the saints and the dead of the dead halloween fiesta calendar (this is globalization, which we have gained to enter Europe? Do not despair, soon to be world government, then you Brinder).
And more horror of this paper here, most of the horror of what we have in mind, hard to believe that it exists.
If there ... so be it ..
Coming is a sin.
Jesus is watching you.
you notes. Yes
Unemployed him well.
does not have a dick to do.
It has lots of free time.
So ...
By the way I am (I hope, I do not know "where" they are), I will tell you the story of the "big toe" in several quibble over.
There once was a dickhead as there are few, relentless lover of improvised explosive et.
not "arsonist", but New Year s'indebitava to buy hundreds of pounds of fireworks.
His life was a whole new year.
fired from January 1 to December 31.
fired for not shoot himself.
The way my house looked like Sarajevo.
Trust.
Sarajevo is not fun like the movies of Emir Kusturica.
is not as festive music by Goran.
Ray Kurzveil, probability, math, not opinion ...
... shooting today spara domani...
Prima o poi doveva succedere.
Nella mitologia greca Zeus era il dio degli dèi.
Era al top.
Nella nostra mitologia italiana, Zeus è un raudo (cioè un petardo) modificato geneticamente, tant'è grosso.
Allo stronzo un giorno gli è scoppiato uno Zeus in mano.
Gli è partito il pollice che lo (quasi) differenziava dai primati.
Cos'è successo?
Essendo spappolato, irrimediabilmente fottuto, INUTILIZZABILE, all'ospedale gli hanno asportato l'alluce (è il pollice del piede, per chi si fosse sintonizzato solo ora) del piede destro, per trapiantarglielo sulla mano sinistra (da qui “tiro left-handed, "Zampaglione fuck, you're better behind the camera that before the microphone).
Legend has it that, every other day ... The
smelled a finger.
had the big toe instead of the thumb.
The toe had not identified with in his new role of an inch, repeatedly insisting to carry out the OLD, OBSOLETE duties for which he was provost.
smelled like stinky feet. In fact
came from there.
When he went around the country, the gossips said: "A smell that's hands smell like feet."
History traumatized me quite a bit.
So when nel cervello sento le voci che mi dicono le cose cattive prendo un gattino, un coniglietto e li anestetizzo.
Li faccio lottare.
Chi perde muore.
Chi vince vive per essere torturato, successivamente mangiato inconsapevolmente dalla sua mamma, tenuta in una gabbia 1cmX2.
... a sentire la mia, di mamma, tutta questa violenza è stata colpa dei film violenti.
Io ci credo.
Voglio crederci.
Mi conviene, mentre tolgo il sangue dai muri.
Sta arrivando la polizia.
Vorranno fare con me i giochini particolari.
Ancora una volta.
Solo un'altra volta.
Ancora.
Ho paura.
in doubt I open.
from behind.
I'm not a hundred.
worth more. 
GENIALITA' E UMILTA' A VAGONATE PIGIATE TUTTE INSIEME OLTRE IL DI FUORI DELLA (FU) PERSONA EINSTEIN?
ESISTE.
RISIEDE IN QUESTI DUE TIZI.
SENZA PAROLE.
CHE MUSICA ASCOLTI?
FOTTE UN CAZZO: RECATI A VEDERE I TESTA DE PORCU OVUNQUE SI TROVINO.
E' UNA LEZIONE DI...
VAI!
RESISTENDO FINO ALLA FINE DEL POST CAPIRETE (e DOPO DOVRETE ULTERIORMENTE CAPIRE) A COSA SI RIFERISCE QUESTA.
AIAIAIAI, CHE DOLORI.
PUZZOLENTI.
fuck OR FOR unleash a war rebel against the system that keeps you bound to live SLAVE 'A LA COCK?
Maccio ', celebrate the new year.
AH, AND I thought that was AN IDIOT!
not pulled the water.
The house was saturated with a hinged water an indefinable smell, counting that the factors associated sensory, then logically interpretable, were two of the cans and human shit.
Someone had shit, no one pulled the water.
There was a strange atmosphere. When I went home
s'odea column Halloween sound of carpentry, yet nothing good omen 'similar to involuntary osmosis, as if osmosis can be a phenomenon of acceptance.
just happens. There were twenty
scratch scattered on the ground in the street (municipal land), illusions vanished in a torn unknown guys. They tried it, they were disappointed, as compounds returned to his seat without saying a word no.
attain enlightenment is not as easy as I thought. You
the right people behind us. The lighting is
agent.
Without acknowledgment of receipt.
t'avvisano Manco.
(not) Succede.
Guidavo senza una meta, andavo a far colazione; è più interessante quando il personaggio si muove liberamente; da al lettore l'illusione che, almeno il protagonista, sia dotato di una sorta di libero arbitrio che forse verrà sfatato verso il finale del racconto, comunque è una caratteristica che di solito ne il lettore, ne lo scrittore possiedono, e si accorse, sulle note più gravi del violoncello, quando il testo s'apprestava a carezzar' il punto più alto del significato che voléa trasmettere...
Non è difficile disimparare.
Non impari, così fai prima.
La follia, quella vera.
Tutti.
Tu.
Io.
Me.
The madness dwells here. She
.
Command.
This does not mean that I will be salaried.
I had a vague idea of \u200b\u200bwhat was going on.
I only found out later, shortly after, because there I was thinking.
gloomy atmosphere of the October 31, now, now, was scepter, orchetrando moreover, the performance of my (In) skeleton staff, propinano a relaxed holiday package, such as abnormal posture taken by me.
No Leopardi.
he had the right people around. And
Tampin.
The ill-treated his balls.
DO NOT HAVE A DICK, Yesterday I spent COOKING IN THE AFTERNOON.
MI LOOK STRANGE MADNESS, CI'm talking about.
writing while the door of the DOOR TALK, I DO NOT SEEM VALID IN TERMS OF GENDER.
Where are we heading?
Why is mandatory to have a goal?
is because we want to be safer?
With great sadness, I ask the incessant (too many adjectives, too many horn downstairs) stream of consciousness: how can an adult (hopefully) Disenchantment, procrastinating, hanging out, swear, get in hand, to succumb to (not ) the name of security, from the moment she, it, that person has previously swallowed and is RIspera, digested, the idea that one day, maybe even a few minutes, there will be no more?
Why do we want certainty, when the largest, incontrovertible truth is that we die?
This is a comic horror story, is what I write is my life.
And trust me, do not worry.
With the right smile, the proper skill, you can run around, eat like a model citizen, without paying.
quantifiable Thirty minutes ago it happened.
Smile denoting security, assuring the operator. Greetings
rare, out of the way, without paying the appropriate cost / manager which manages the (not I became ill, the female audience), without any weight on his conscience / having more weight in your wallet if you have one of those people that insists on cataloging all of himself, more general business cards, memory storing each paper into a container attractive tissue to be fixed firmly to the right or the left buttock, according to the lefties and / or destromania.
Destrofilia.
I do not mean nazi.
A talk with the stones do not solve anything, unless you believe in reincarnation.
there reincarnation?
happens "the ..."?
These are not questions to do.
So I think, unfortunately, are not, 'fuck Descartes with his teacher, now, now, is not a problem to create art.
Reincarnation?
Believe it or not ...
NOW, NOW, NOW, WHERE ARE YOU?
Physically you are there, in front of the screen.
life led you to having to put in the hands of a genius of my caliber (.38) and maybe you think it's a great thing.
Let's say you're living.
depends on many things.
take it for good.
Here.
're living.
I'm living.
... there is!
How many months there is the universe?
Some say some thirty, some voters per l' 11 milioni, tal altri per migliaia di anni (mal interpretare la bibbia a propulsione ne genera di codeste burle), tal non so la contrapposizione di “taluni/tal altri”, nel senso, voglio abbattere le barriere strutturali del linguaggio semi concreto, eppur hanno inventato/comunemente abbiamo accettato per Ozmosi codificate forme di linguaggio che ti intrappolano nello scadere (come una confezione di fagioli biologici aperti 20 sec. fa) perciò non puoi continuare il luogo comune senza auto ingabbiarti in un luogo comune.
Il luogo comune è un posto dove la giunta comunale può riscuotere i diritti d'autore.
Non per questo gli operai e gli altri subordinati possono trarne vantaggio dal punto di vista crisp, not John ("Jack" exists only in the novel), but pocketed the money / expendable for a better future in the company of recommended drugs.
What's on TV today?
Ah, yes, the list of drugs coolest of the moment.
Tell me what you assume, I'll tell you how you are.
fact, do not tell me, I just analyze your tears.
I think it is like trying to think, have done so already having sex pre-programmed will never, ever s'attuerà.
's up to you?
there free will?
I Sofficini Findus is a tangible proof of our weighted character to / from adults, so yes, I can say with certainty that free will exists.
precisely do not know when or how it was invented but just now ("horror" is an anagram) we are not widely provided.
Then a gleam of polished instrumental madness makes me play to be normal according to the canons of the paying public, the judge, the Executioner, the executioner, the projected figures, existing only in my head, I pretend nothing, starting to tell me what upset this week.
You have to dig into the past.
I know it hurts to admit certain weaknesses.
heartened.
weakness, "the concept of" whole I write stuff there because we over-valued, we have gone beyond the beyond.
is not important.
I know.
I know.
I learned the truth by Padre Pio.
We are only 4 pages.
do not know if you're still there.
I think you are tired.
thinking how presumptuous I think, I am convinced you know what you're thinking.
would be shipped in a gas chamber, no?
Sappi son (I high, will stretch from top to bottom) in a gas chamber have been there.
do not mean the gas chamber type I farted while I was sleeping and the door was shut tight drastically forever Another had it that farted in my place in the same room tight.
I have conquered death.
the gas chamber I started to converse with gas, I convinced him to spare me.
gas saved me.
With that savings has created the public debt of which you are / are (psychophysically) slave.
Do not despair.
has begun an innovative new edition of Big Brother.
rooting for this year ...
typhoid ...
Some time ago, typhoid fever was a disease. Today
hath been translated as "affection".
Progress follows these patterns.
I am proud to live in a pianeta a tinta unita.
Gli da un tocco “di”.
Ho progettato un libro bianco di contenuti.
Scrivo una riga dove ti sprono a crearti universi mentali non gestibili, dopodiché sarai tu a impostare, compilarne le pagine.
Mi pagherai affinché io, col mio benestare, ti darò la possibilità di aprirti a te stesso, a chi vorrà leggere il libro preimpostato/da te dopo strutturato.
Le nano tecnologie sono i gadget elettronici escogitati dai servi di Biancaneve.
In inglese è “Snow white”.
È un titolo vagamente cameliano, non parlo di sigarette, non faccio pubblicità occulta (andrei all'inferno, trattando topics banned by the church)
I speak of the group.
bandages.
the band.
The camel.
Du iu no?
question teg I can do well.
Camel guitarist singer fell ill, called off the turn (I repeat that I write things I feel like shit, they are an adult, I'm free, I go to bed when I want, I assume Nutella at my discretion, so resigned, if you've read this far you have committed at least since resigned your tenth birthday) and nobody has been able to see more live.
bad.
Snowgoose was a great record, wonderful use of the orchestra in it.
Pensare che era un progetto per un “audiobook”, come li chiamiamo ora.
Era un libro per bambini, la favola dell' “oca della neve”.
Nello scrivere mi sono porso nel torso una domanda che non dirò, anche se la posso anche scrivere, le pagine sono gratis, mica mi cacciano se vado avanti a oltranza, e sì, dài, tutto bene, i bambini stanno bene, anche se a casa mia ad una Barbie manca la testa e misteriosamente il bambino non si siede da una settimana, dicendo “Gesù detto sedere seduti peccato”, arrivo qui.
COMPIERE GLI ANNI.
Sembra quasi un traguardo.
E' UN TRAGUARDO.
Pensa quanto sei bravo.
You birthday.
You have reached a goal.
least for the record, you should be sad.
When your birthday is in less than a year living on earth.
It depends on how you live.
For me it is a goal, knowing that I was not much left.
for you?
As a child I was thinking, that I have squola award rejected so often imagined (I was talking to myself in third person without knowing it) if life was like in elementary school and after squole.
you imagine.
Every year, when it arrives on your birthday you have to do a test with the almighty.
he / it ("It" in English, pronoun impersonal thing or object undefined) puts you difficult questions, TI asks the questions, some questions of the oral exam, such as maturity, and you say what you know.
If you do not get old ball.
may seem positive, fail not to get old.
"" "" ""
-How many have you?
- I have 43 years.
- it does not show, you look like a child of 15 years.
- I know. But I was rejected.
- How it works, here on earth?
Nothing, the porcoddio you ask questions and oral examination as the years go by if you bowl in your head but the skin does not t'invecchia, not even the brain, then you are condemned to repeat the year, the cells will freeze criogenizzandosi, biological processes are known human confiscated by Beelzebub (the horn of beer) and never gets old.
Spontaneously. If you were
fear death, old age, decay generally in the 80s was enough to become a vampire by Joel Shumacher.
Now there is the question of universal state.
not pass it?
does not age.
do not walk / do not get old.
I tell you the truth, man.
... This too is a lie, how can I have friends if they are only focused on myself and my physical person legal? Estimated
interlayer.
Tanto per fare due chiacchiere con me stesso, la persona che amo odiare.
È un toccasana.
E ripeto che ti dico la verità, anche se mi sono fermato a contemplare le due “E” di inizio discorso.
Una era con l'accento, l'altra senza.
Una significa verbo essere.
L'altra significa NON verbo, bensì congiunzione.
Tra l'essere e il congiungere, quale scegli?
La busta o i premi?
Mi rimanda alle lotterie sul lungomare di quando avevo anatomicamente 11 anni, avevo comprato (“acquistato” si dice nei racconti rispettabili) il primo album dei Doors, l'omonimo (non è il titolo the disc, "namesake", was known simply as "The Doors") and I was old enough to do something which I regretted to create me permanent youth disorder, while my mother is still struggling with the stench in the toilet, claiming that it is my fault, but there is no guilt, the importance lies in the evil smell.
There was a raffle with the guy hand microphone inside the cabin filled with premium bikes toaster ski turntables televisions VCRs boxing gloves mannequins (they were well, a fair ballardiana atrocities close to home), then sunglasses , eyeglasses and buy a ticket with a number, waiting for the extraction, mica was like slavery statale dove ti tocca aspettare due estrazioni settimanali, là ogni sera faceva almeno trenta estrazioni (durava poc'oltre la mezzanotte), sognavi di vincere un premio per sentirti più appagato, dimenticandoti dei traumi infantili, sedando l'ego.
Era questa la domanda figa che mi ricordo?
Era questa.
SIGNOOORA, VUOLE LA BUSHTA O I PREMI?
LA BUSSSSSHTA O I PREMI?
M.
mm
Mmmm.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MI PIO IL PROGIUTTO!
Dicette cushì.
Quello che mi ricordo rispose così.
Era una domanda clear, concise, minimal, not radical, very chic.
- LADY WANTS THE Bushta or bonuses?
- I think I PROGIUTTO Pio.
That day, more than just "knew" I was convinced I had a lot of road to be done, at least for only remotely match those results.
I went away disconsolate, without seeing the assignment of progiutto.
not heard a pencil from school required.
I'm excited.
why you wet your pants, Luigino (...?).
- It's so good that Jesus uses to let you know that you were wrong.
- But I'll go to hell, Father?
- Do not think about these things, son. Enjoy life on earth.
Ciuccialo as pope.
- So?
- No shit, you're hurting me. If you do not learn now I'll break your face with a fist, you disintegrated teeth, so you will not ever rise to the father.
- "Father"? Fuck you mean, Papa?!
- is a term used in the Florentine collodion story of Pinocchio.
- Daddy, Daddy, how the fuck is your name? I confused ideas, talk hard, I, I, I do not remember, I just want to suck everything as a Calippo.
- See son? Did you learn without violence. The Steiner method works. Montessori in the ass.
- but the show was beautiful.
- I said to please the body of the mother. I've seen it all just to make me jacking off with the protagonist.
is why I do not recommend that parents scold their children.
not beat your children.
Kill.
THEN ONLY THEN
scopateveli.
end up in prison but will end up on television.
What great things you have in life?
Exactly.
Once you are finished on TV, what more do you want?
Ok, girls smashed more cocaine up my ass, but in the meantime be content.
a child abused me.
Me forgot it.
leggett Then the book that Melissa P. and I inorgoglitti because there seemed to sweep the pages could well be poetic.
I fell in love with myself.
adored what I had done. The
odorai too.
I continued to read books by Melissa masterpiece. Then the professor maeshtro
dicette I read stuff higher, imbortande.
I present the 120 Days sodomitic, desadeiano book more Pasolini DVDs.
Voletta not read the book, it was too big, too long then ... I thought.
Pensetti. Paper
too big?
too long?
but may serve to magnify the Pirsing. How
the tunnel.
Amalgamai youth culture, slang added to knowledge, associai the book a nice cock, the concretizzai with its beneficial properties.
me I could be a culture that made the hole in the ass.
I could become educated and span.
Then after that I dicette Parlett professor with the book was to read, not by shoving it.
And there's love for literature svanette as a fatuous fire in January.
Did you ever think?
I tell wisps.
think.
fact, do not think, I'll tell you.
Our ancestors did not have television.
They had no drugs.
aim was sin.
Biestamare (mean swearing in dialect, for those who do not sapetttttte) made you go to hell without even the possibbili (OCME I write I think) to play the joker if you do not know.
What did they do?
Yes, Lovecraft's books (the name is changed, the Marlboro Company which bought the company logo and Kraft (good things from the world) takes possession of the identity of the lone Providence and changed the spelling) is fucking True, it was so.
summary.
There was no TV.
You could see people taking the drugs for you while having sex and committing sin biestamanado (now you understand that means; fuck you, I also explained, do not make me Irara) and were there to turn over the opposable thumbs, and sometimes the toes (foot thumbs are in the common semantic grammar, then you also tell the story of the feet and inches on me I also thank you and thank your children escaped mutilation, this is meaningless as the rest, trust that it has, I mean "sense") as well, guess they were doing?
I say men beyond those of the past "with" (read the above line, I'm not going to repeat ... well, you know I do? Copiaincolla) there was no TV. You could see people taking the drugs for you while having sex and committing sin bistamanado (It is now clearer, although I've fucking well explained, now I'm angry) and they were there to turn over the opposable thumbs, and sometimes the toes, that is ok, are the big toe (one foot "thumbs"? Here GMOs) into the common semantic grammar.
Then I will tell the story well on the thumbs of the feet and thank me as I thank your children prior to the mutilation survived.
Guess what they did?
NIGHT in the nineteenth century, the unemployed went in cemeteries.
were lost, haggard, frightened frightened, yet went to the cemetery, since there does not do better (yes, but there was a sin and you ended up in hell with the approval of padreINterno, lord of the absorbent OB).
They went around cemeteries, they invent stories.
were superstitious, not like now that people believe in made-up stories from various churches Le Bastard millennia ago then they do so because they know that forgiveness and then ask people to hell and ugly post-mortem there should be no no no no no to nothing.
moral of the story briefly summarized.
no longer needed.
Die.
T'imputridisci.
stink.
is not true that you are no longer alive.
We explain how.
We explain how. From
live smelt, farts, t'ostinavi to live. From
dead give off the same.
is rotting, but it is compulsive action as the others.
The corpses of the past, which have evolved as those of today, were buried in wooden coffins for the dead not often steep package as those that cost at least two thousand euro daily plus all the service the funeral director who also invented gadgets (not mica those sales will be for work) type the key ring-shaped coffin that then all they want because "quant'ebbello where did you get where you bought it no friend, I have not bought, it was consolation prize that they gave me because he now dead grandfather is decaying as now, yes, the fatal course of the physical deterioration of a human being "no longer acting as an" (a polite way to describe the body).
Moral of the fable and the intertwining (see, going to school? You pigiano in clichés semantic head, you will not free more, unless you sign a Scientoloy or other sects of enthusiasts crazy brain washers).
Ancient cemeteries were unemployed, in which they are perversely preserved cadavers.
're dead.
Yet they keep you.
underground.
But is not that we have thrown away. Go
rotting.
I know it's not your fault but you can not resist. Go
rotting.
Produce gas without push the sphincter.
Do not fart gas.
What's happening?
Wisps. The wisps are
Loff post mortem.
Imagine.
You're dead, you asked for forgiveness, then you can go to heaven.
're in heaven.
Physically, indeed, souls, because it is one that rises to the kingdom of heaven, you are in paradise.
're in the clouds.
know tomorrow's weather forecast not looking at the weather.
Observe your loved ones.
watch over them.
On earth there is a part of you, indeed, let's say that you were everything yourself when you identify us to the point of just asking you a slave to a mortgage to buy a big screen TV 3d there then you realize that you do not need as much as you thought. Your body
deceased remained on earth fart.
takes to give off.
addition you peccat, or because it is a sin ... socreggiare
You know what happens?
Eh?
The people of the nineteenth century, addentratasi in cemeteries as unemployed and multi settlor of free time galore at will, he saw wisps of your farts, and mounts the head, writing horror stories of cock, you invented the myth of Chtulu of Halloween, several films of carpenter etc etc and you know what happens?
you sinned on many levels.
You farted. You farted
dead.
In fact the more you fart the brain of the living ("creativity" they call it) and you have double, triple layered sin, in various sizes.
Sin multidimensional.
What's happening?
Eh?
You know what happens?
No you do not know, otherwise it will not hang by my fingertips (I'll talk to you in person and hang "lips" but it is a sneaky excuse to ask you a blowjob free, of course you pay nothing at all is done, no ?).
short.
're in heaven and end up in hell because your body on earth has sinned without your permission.
It's a great catch.
is a inculatura.
might as well sin. So
sins.
Rutta, fart, swear.
So you do not nothing happens.
And if you think all this goes beyond mental blowjob horror horror means that I have reached my goal because ...
because ...
Nothing.
I wanted to give you a nice horror story to celebrate all the saints and the dead of the dead halloween fiesta calendar (this is globalization, which we have gained to enter Europe? Do not despair, soon to be world government, then you Brinder).
And more horror of this paper here, most of the horror of what we have in mind, hard to believe that it exists.
If there ... so be it ..
Coming is a sin.
Jesus is watching you.
you notes. Yes
Unemployed him well.
does not have a dick to do.
It has lots of free time.
So ...
By the way I am (I hope, I do not know "where" they are), I will tell you the story of the "big toe" in several quibble over.
There once was a dickhead as there are few, relentless lover of improvised explosive et.
not "arsonist", but New Year s'indebitava to buy hundreds of pounds of fireworks.
His life was a whole new year.
fired from January 1 to December 31.
fired for not shoot himself.
The way my house looked like Sarajevo.
Trust.
Sarajevo is not fun like the movies of Emir Kusturica.
is not as festive music by Goran.
Ray Kurzveil, probability, math, not opinion ...
... shooting today spara domani...
Prima o poi doveva succedere.
Nella mitologia greca Zeus era il dio degli dèi.
Era al top.
Nella nostra mitologia italiana, Zeus è un raudo (cioè un petardo) modificato geneticamente, tant'è grosso.
Allo stronzo un giorno gli è scoppiato uno Zeus in mano.
Gli è partito il pollice che lo (quasi) differenziava dai primati.
Cos'è successo?
Essendo spappolato, irrimediabilmente fottuto, INUTILIZZABILE, all'ospedale gli hanno asportato l'alluce (è il pollice del piede, per chi si fosse sintonizzato solo ora) del piede destro, per trapiantarglielo sulla mano sinistra (da qui “tiro left-handed, "Zampaglione fuck, you're better behind the camera that before the microphone).
Legend has it that, every other day ... The
smelled a finger.
had the big toe instead of the thumb.
The toe had not identified with in his new role of an inch, repeatedly insisting to carry out the OLD, OBSOLETE duties for which he was provost.
smelled like stinky feet. In fact
came from there.
When he went around the country, the gossips said: "A smell that's hands smell like feet."
History traumatized me quite a bit.
So when nel cervello sento le voci che mi dicono le cose cattive prendo un gattino, un coniglietto e li anestetizzo.
Li faccio lottare.
Chi perde muore.
Chi vince vive per essere torturato, successivamente mangiato inconsapevolmente dalla sua mamma, tenuta in una gabbia 1cmX2.
... a sentire la mia, di mamma, tutta questa violenza è stata colpa dei film violenti.
Io ci credo.
Voglio crederci.
Mi conviene, mentre tolgo il sangue dai muri.
Sta arrivando la polizia.
Vorranno fare con me i giochini particolari.
Ancora una volta.
Solo un'altra volta.
Ancora.
Ho paura.
in doubt I open.
from behind.
I'm not a hundred.
worth more.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
What Does The Latin Kings
a ride AMONG the power lines It allows me to (pseudo) SEZA GUADAGNO.IN THINK ARE ON COMPENSATION BLOGITALIA.IT
SINCE OUR OWNERS HAVE NOT GOT THAT WE LIKE TO THINK BECAUSE THE THOUGHT AND 'HARMFUL, seriously affect the health PHARMACEUTICAL INDUSTRY, WHICH convinced us that nothing can' go bad Until we have the right and the duty filled with anti depressants, CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE EVEN THE ART WORLD. The
IMMORTAL, INNOVATIVE, BUT TOO COMPLICATED ALBUM "ABBEY ROAD" AND THE BEATLES 'SENTENCE WAS AGAIN BY Teletubbies, make the language of the texts most' Simple, easy to absorb and playful.
HERE IN THE NEW WORLD PREMIERE, colorful COVER.
OLD ISSUE WAS (celebrated a funeral of Paul? The human race? Anyway, you know that I speak: another of the mysteries around the beatles).
IN THIS FANTASTIC, THERE COVER ULTRA TRANDY 'SPACE ONLY FOR CLARITY AND FUN, far from mourning as SORPASSATISSIMA THE VERSION.
THERE 'S SPACE FOR THE SADNESS.
... and I miss the music!
RELIABLE SOURCES CLAIM THAT THE PARASITE nonagenarian LOOKING FOR A tortoise RANCID IMMORTALITY close to death ABOVE HAS REFUSED TO SUPPORT THE TEACHING AT HOME AND IN PARLIAMENT.
PROVIDE YOU PSYCHO political maneuver.
do not despair.
HE 'HAS REALLY SMALL.
UNLESS THEY BE TALKING WITH ... KURZVEIL LI 'COCKS ARE FOR EVERYONE.
NOTHING blasphemous.
COMING IN THE BOTTOM OF THE POST understand why 'THAT.
will even ADVISED THAT YOU WILL HAVE TO ASCEND TO THE PAGE WITH A MOUSE BARRELS To understand what 'you read.
trying not to think about the physical and psychological malaise that grips the Italian province, that the whole of Italy scandalini of provincial and fingering ("pasta", you do not think that once I start talking about fingers into their vaginas human animals), Mama tries to make the dumplings, fishing recipe to / from the Internet. Compared with the average time
biological clock impiantatami personal guilt from unexplained fever (7:00 am), I woke up late for that which is my canonical Canone Inverso (great new book), so I ate breakfast a fleeting ( coffee without sugar) to the hotel / bar tobacconist abused by parties / near / close to home.
When pressing the by-product of the distorted nature takes over from inhumane food on the bottom right of the belly, cagarti and you're wearing, that's un'inamovibile, irrequivocabile, changes in the funeral car, decided to continue under the usual 50 km / h, appears before you, in a street where a continuous white line to overtake and argues that it is forbidden, magically, in front of it there are the cops that, yes, go slow, but not so slow as to prevent you from turning to take a shortcut or at least pull back a part of the ecosystem itself riperpetrata reinterpreted by one of its cells are also of human nature ...
... realize that the talisman of Padre Pio is another scam.
We were not really little.
I'm fine, I feel more balanced. Had I listened
the advice of the Danone and cool hunters I have now regained my natural regularity, I would not have these problems browns flavored with Southern Comfort.
I have to adapt, by listening to advice for buying.
So I'm going to dive into the world of information, in exchange for having so many laughs poisonous fish without a targeted, looking for a diamond in the middle of the dung.
tried dung and I was satisfied, as a child looking in a chocolate factory of Willie Wonka, the years go by, then forgets why he had entered there, falls in love with a hoooompa looompa, giving rise to a series of protests in nature nanofoba xenophobic, helping you to understand another unacceptable truth.
In TV we never talk about discrimination against people of "high otherwise."
Mayor Avetrano, a person really wake up, you can see from the lively eyes cesposi findable as salad plants in coastal habitat in Martock (TE).
He called hidden order in a law prohibition that bans people to ban short and no, not prevent, however, imposes no, as it was, it is a moment (the time is an illusion) has set aside an order that, no, fuck, WAIT, I will not start HURRY, I CAN NOT RUN AND REMEMBER MY LANGUAGE OF SHIT, he made a law (here, we return to reason, or at least, to make us understand, because I speak in the plural, ah, ho scordato le medicine, le medicine amico, quelle si che ti fanno bene).
No, ancora no.
Devo ricapitolare.
... come faccio, mica sono un bibliotecaio.
E adesso?
Che cavolo racconto?
IL TURISMO DELL'ORRORE.
Lo scazzato sindaco di Avetrano ha fatto in modo che non ci fossero più pellegrinaggi nella casa di Sarah scazzi, reindirizzando la folla verso luoghi più consoni al concetto di pellegrinaggio (e al loro tipo di cultura), tipo santuari della madonna dedicati alla Madonna e luoghi affini, per creduloni scemi con cervello nel medioevo e culo sulla sedia elettrica (a loro insaputa)
Mi ha fatto molto ridere come This time they used the language of journalistic propaganda Orwellian dictatorship to alarm people, unaware of what is going on for thousands of years, taken over by such things oh yes, the super enalotto, the lot, if I stop Solving the first prize a month to work then I Combro me buy ... the machine that llllà.
TOURISM horror. They did
debates here and there on the television "this time, only in this very special occasion" was insensitive (they crossed several tragedies and has speculated on them, look at 'What's new') and the little girl abused even in death has become an object of desire of the mass shit they have imposed on the populace another tragediuccia sociale usa e getta... PROPRIO QUANDO SAPPIAMO CHI SI FOTTE LA COSTITUZIONE AVANTI E DIETRO SENZA LUBRIFICAZIONI.
Succede qualcosa al re?
Terremoto.
Scandali.
Assassiniiiiiii.
Complotti.
Malasanità.
Malcostume.
Cavallette bibliche.
Io non credo ai complotti.
Mi sforzo di credere in dio; almeno ho qualcosa di “concreto” da odiare e, burlandomi di lui, aggiungo ulcere perforanti al mio corredo genetico spastico.
... e risiamo al...
IL TURISMO DELL'ORRORE.
Ci sono un sacco di persone darwinianamente evolute, OCCIDENTALI, con un buon reddito, che prendono l'aereo e vanno a Bankok...
... to fuck the asses of tender, juicy girls who, by agreement, six years already know how to do things that, on average, are learned after fifty, when you feel rough, to throw, and after you have signed up for facebook you realize that fuck on command was not so complicated but, unfortunately, begins to be Tardini.
such as tourism and more horrific, what to go see a house where there was an orgy of blood sponsored by the Coca Cola Company, and tourism aimed at rafforazre the character of young ladies used to pre natal incubators of guilt non-Eastern?
ask to stay awake all night.
What they can not do in Haiti. There
cholera broke out the alarm. If an alarm burst
... where they end up all the pieces?
mysteries of the cosmos.
broke the color.
could write on "Highly flammable, can explode."
There is not enough security.
propose the RFID microchip required for the entire planet. He returned
cholera.
I immediately thought it all began to smell "like."
But a game of words does nothing to appease the angry spirits.
Tell that to Saviano, taking his fight against the Camorra of € 2 million for the program that is preparing; sin that can not go to the mall to spenderseli personally.
Regarding the cholera outbreak there are problems: the multinational McMerdonald has shown its sensitivity (those who create food animals in the laboratory is as sensitive as a wart rotting in the eyeball with a knife in the sun rotting Equator) offering ...
say ...
have offered to help the poor little black bottom (yes, McDonald's is racist, not you can have everything in life is racist because of race ... is a creator himself!) Importing country in their thousands crates of mineral water per LOW ENERGY AND LIPID. The carcass of
McDonald, buried the carcass in the ass of the other deadly Mason Walt Disney (with the text style orgies of Cannibal Corpse, "post eiaculation mortal" and "Mummified on Barbwire) has re-emerged from the cold ground, and in this case, from the earth negra (kindly words taken from "ancient tears" the little girl's hand, the sun does not rejoice over the corpse of the son of Carducci) to communicate to the press: - Yes, we have decided to show the world that we are not barbarians racist motherfuckers Nazi profiteers who exploit all that (still for now) breathing, so we decided to donate the water low in calories and fat, so as to allow these sporchineg ... these dirty anime sloppy ground and bacteria were not created in our laboratories to continue their usual characteristic low-calorie diet.
who believe that there are thin because they do not know how he is the food?
're on a diet and then, when they eliminated all the excess fat is physically ready to embark on a path of step, push-ups, abs, squats, chest press, lat machine, curl art, so you can put on muscle mass ( without eating, trust me, there the food they do, and so from organic farming!) and, once they become giants NEGRI GANGSTA MUTHAFFAKKA ultra gym-sculpted, defined, with gold teeth and brains liquefied by the crack, can finally go on MTV, singing rhyming crap misleading, make millions of dollars, have the luxury of retiring at age 23, provided that an accidental bullet unscheduled carelessly crossing the their skulls, which is also tattooed & properly trained, so you can set a good example to future generations, because today's children are the masters of tomorrow, and once you become the masters of tomorrow will turn ... weights in the old stomach the day after tomorrow.
will require the board, will require that drain the urine with the catheter, which will require them to listen when they have nothing to say and then ...
do we do?
Let's get rid of the elderly, say it like it is using a realistic language: Let's get rid OF FUCKING OLD.
... I say all all.
In Italy, where "you get rid of all the fucking old" means that you cleaned up in parliament.
desert roam bales of hay to the parliament to witness to the ephemeral nature decadent.
were alive Bodler (Baudelaire fucking write it as I think, is my blog, okay? WRONG?) We would write a beautiful poem.
... then the masters of tomorrow will have to study it.
amazing how boundless knowledge of someone turns slavery perpetrated against the undeniable rights human a poor student from Bologna, more interested in the fuck girlfriends, barrel after bong after twelve years chiloom off course "family reasons", which absorb the priceless knowledge.
Take Dante. What
of crisps, no one with the funny hat.
He used all his life, body and soul to write the three Tomon which, together with sutures sterilized, give birth to quell'operona universally recognized as the "Divine Comedy".
first noted: "Divine" because the author decided that this was the 'nature.
Comedy ... Well, I've read, there was a fucking laugh.
A life in writing in versi la proiezione lisergica di sé stesso che, partendo dall'inferno, va a fare visita a tutti e dico tutti i poveracci dell'aldilà, senza risparmiarci i dettagli più cruenti, riuscendo a essere più insostenibile di David Foster Wallace quando decideva di farti pesare grammo per grammo sulle spalle stanche tutto il suo titanico enciclopedico sapere esponenziale.
La vita di Dante è costata la sanità mentale degli studenti di mezzo mondo.
Dante ha fatto quel che ha fatto.
Ok, ci dicono “ognuno è responsabile delle proprie azioni”.
ANDATELO A DIRE A TUTTE QUELLE PERSONE IMPLICATE NELLO SCANDALO DIVINA COMMEDIA.
Ore, giorni, mesi, anni, fifteen years, decades, dumped on his visionary madness.
was so important to learn the folly of a poor bastard?
will.
not want to think about, like the ones there with the heavy accent and the sexually promiscuous past not want to think that leaving the waste land.
Remember the episode of the Simpsons where they start to push the waste under the ground and then explodes all?
is happening here.
At least the Simpsons are funny.
this protest.
PROTEST THAT SHIT!?
PRODUCTS HAVE TONS OF SHIT?
Save it NOW. Instead of listening gasarvi
rolling "'or chieftain" or watching the "Camorra," as an incomparable work of art, take a plastic bag can not be recycled to the head, go home, the boss of the moment, tell him: - Note: half ass your mother, the other half of Nino 'angel with friendly greetings from the godfather of' fuck is.
shoot you in the eye, or you just buried alive, after having torn the tongue, as they do in Jamaica with women "talking too much" in return you will be well regarded socially, you have a good reputation.
Having a good reputation with the skull smashed and useful like having your ass crack without being able to use for recycling.
end in itself.
And as usual the good guys always win mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmdubbimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmseridubbimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
So the pope arrives and says ... to help the peace.
I help the peace every day: I throw the garbage, I'm going to buy the scratch cards, chased the cats entered illegally in his lawn to eat all the salad.
More than this I can do to Mrs. Pace.
Oh no, something I can do.
I can say to the Pope and his subordinates of shit to stay away from the altar boys butts, to resell at least 0,001% of its assets, so you can restore the world's public debt created in part by their emissaries child pornography.
I have it with them because, as every year, the circus tent Fides Life was re-assembled near the location of the landfill where I live.
Yesterday I've been there before.
I saw objects fly.
Yes, there do not have the force of gravity as they do not believe it. There is this
you believe.
What do not you think does not exist.
I found this.
There was also a great smoke.
intimacy, where Jesus can not see, because who ever lived, I thought, indeed, hoped, nay.
I do not want to be bad, karma is a serious matter, then it makes you svaccare everything.
If you get hurt badly.
NOT I hoped that everything was on fire.
I was happy for the barbecue of dead animals were doing to feed the fervent devout believers.
Indeed no, I was happy for them.
Indeed no, I felt pity.
fact no ...
See?
To make the Buddhist stay fucked as the other members of the seven self denial.
resign So, buy yourself the 3D screen, wait for death in Dolby surround sound, after paying the fee for digital terrestrial.
Once there were the problems we are now, because there was no soap, people do not drink the shit of civil rights. For
dictators had it easy.
The "Lodo Alfano".
Chiccazzo Alfano is?
Why praise?
What praises?
Ahhhhh, it is likely to give a leccaculaggine career on top of the pyramid of control sheep.
Be ', stroke him and his wife.
And unborn children of spastic children have already been brought by the same disease. A Napolitano
we are thinking nature.
HE (the old fool with a face like Mr. Magoo in the laboratory hybridized with the DNA of diseased tortoise) said it remains impassive about the laws buggers personam.
is obvious: a job you dare to contradict your boss master of life, bad slaves unworthy to live another nano second?
rightly so.
To make a career you submit.
Once you've made a career ...
...
...
...
What!
Ah.
Once you have made a career around the gourmet food, sexual endorphin in the world, you can eat all you want, as well as satiety.
The problem is another: when you've spent a lifetime lick hairy ass and soles of boots, you will have the language encrusted shit, your taste buds no longer work (only time will really get a sense pierced tongue) and you can not longer feel the taste of things.
Was it worth it? Yes
Holy shit, when you have a Ferrari in the ass are the master of the world.
pity that the master of the world also has masters.
you know who is the master of the master of the world? If you're
those who think that God really exists, who is the owner / head of god?
His madness.
His perversions. We
subordinated motherfuckers sadistic megalomaniac.
What is our dream / purpose in life? Become
like / most of them.
Then when lunch scato watching movies with piss, diarrhea and vomiting tell me I'm sick.
At least the actors have to be covered by the above bodily fluids.
you do not.
But I'm more relaxed.
Now that they have arrested another boss life has meaning.
think.
Last night I had a suitcase with thirty thousand euro and I left it open road without that no one touch her.
For this propose to give unlimited power to the police.
educated people, rational spirit, which ensures human security, with a right to judge as they see fit without any repercussions.
YES '.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
Come on, repeat after me with a big smile.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
Do not you feel better?
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
AND 'THIS CEH WANT.
continue to repeat.
AND 'THIS I always dreamed of.
AND 'THIS I always dreamed of.
AND 'THIS I always dreamed of.
a little effort.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
is done, praise be to Jesus
JESUS \u200b\u200b'LOVE YOU, THANKS FOR FREEDOM'.
JESUS \u200b\u200b'LOVE YOU, THANKS FOR FREEDOM'
JESUS \u200b\u200b'LOVE YOU ... because you touch me like that? You said that it was wrong.
Shut up and worship, God!
not sin 'NEVER AGAIN' WHY 'I LOVE JESUS' FREE AND WE ARE FREE, AND 'WHAT YOU WANT, That 's what I want and' why I've always dreamed of, It 's what he gives me.
not sin 'NEVER AGAIN' WHY 'I LOVE JESUS' AND ARE FREE, AND 'WHAT I'VE ALWAYS DREAMED AND' WHAT he gives me.
not sin 'NEVER AGAIN' WHY 'I LOVE JESUS' AND ARE FREE, AND 'WHAT I'VE ALWAYS DREAMED AND' WHAT he gives me. When
repeat a thousand times the same thing at the end you fall in love, you convince yourself that everything will be fine so that when you find yourself starving, without teeth, the bones like a xylophone in the concentration camp to kill your fellow for a crumb of bread dropped in the mud diligently fucking happy and convinced "That 's what we want, nam myoho renge kyo" and all evil will disappear.
Col loaf of bread.
Bon appetit.
MOTHER, STOP 'STI cocaine, get a moment's peace.
to vent her frustrations suffered by the alleged failure and self invented, my mother gets angry with alternative category.
Maybe today are drug addicts.
Tomorrow are the right ones.
day after tomorrow will be the masters of tomorrow.
In the middle I'm watching, I feel something growing inside me.
I'm not a woman.
I'm not a creature of Geiger.
... I guess this time it's a tumor.
Seriously.
Fuck with sentient nanotechnology di Ray Kurzveil guarirò nel giro di pochi minuti.
Dobbiamo vivere in eterno.
Così potremo continuare a lavorare amorevolmente, a essere liberi, a rispettarci tutti l'un l'altro con amore e devozione innamorata.
Solo da morto potrai riposarti.
In paradiso i bambini giocano con le bestie feroci, ci sono bei fiumi, I CESPUBLI BRILLANO e tutte quelle cose la sugli opuscoli della Torre di Guardia.
Figurati l'eternità come un prato dove tutti vanno d'accordo in perfetta armonia leccando il culo di dio, sperando di far carriera.
... cazzo se mi fa paura la morte, altroché!!!!!!
Dio e affini.
Anche a me è capitato di meet someone famous but not really important. Me
the purpose as well.
You know the face of a dangerous homosexual suicidal and nihilistic that the clergy has decided to give San Gabriel?
Go to google, type in "San Gabriel".
To be more practical, one of the photo quissopra.
my girlfriend's mother was born and raised in a prehistoric village near the shrine of St. Gabriel in the province of Teramo.
He made everybody believe that she was born there, not in the prehistoric village with stone houses.
To handle the history and maintain an ironclad alibi, forced the family pilgrimages to frequent "by relatives "living in the quaint village.
The village is full of priests, nuns, etc., being a large shopping center (they want to make a McDonald's in front of the sanctuary hahahahah, when I knew I was going to burst, he told me a gadget that sells statues of saints and saints, "Industry in which shtà gris", from what he told me the sad operator.).
A group of sisters Sara took her hand, still at an age when he did not know the pleasures of the male penis and lap dance in front of the ultras Samb (confidential information) and showed a series of photos.
A dozen photos.
was choosing the appearance, APPEARANCE, THE LOOK OF SAN GABRIEL, as the original one with the helpless fat ass and your ass face life span to the lambs that we slipped (it was his favorite hobby after "compassion" and the Masonic compass).
In his innocence, Sara chose this picture.
From that day on San Gabriel is mentioned according to the distorted aesthetics of baby Sara.
All your relatives, your friends, we, we have one thing in common that when Sara decided, within hours, he could think.
the end me and my world, sometimes in a direct way ... Persecute you.
So be careful.
Be very careful.
few years we scegliere la fisionomia del nuovo padre pio e camperemo coi diritti d'autore.
Allora scriverò un post di questo blog al giorno.
Coi soldi arrivano i guai.
... è un rischio che sono pronto a correre.
Quanto ai neri che fanno "successo" dico solo "salto di rete televisiva".
Quando un nero è ricco sta su MTV.
Quando un nero è povero sta su Discovery Channel.
Sweat baby, sweat baby
Sex is a Texas drought
Me and you do the kind of stuff
That only Prince would sing about
So put your hands down my pants
And I bet you'll feel nuts
Yes I'm Siskel, yes I'm Ebert
And you're getting two thumbs up
You've had enough of two-hand touch
You want it rough, you're out of bounds
I want you smothered, want you covered
Like my Waffle House hashbrowns
Comin' quicker than Fed Ex
Never reach an apex
Just like coca-cola stock
You are inclined to make me rise an hour early
Like a daylight savings clock
Do it now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now
Love, the kind you clean up
With a mop and bucket
Like the lost catacombs of Egypt
Only God knows where we stuck it
Hieroglyphics? Let me be pacific
I wanna be down in your South Seas
But I got this notion
That the motion of your ocean means
"Small Craft Advisory"
So if I capsize on your thighs
High tide B-5 you sunk my battleship
Please turn me on
I'm Mr. Coffee
With an automatic drip
So show me yours, I'll show you mine
"Tool Time"
You'll Lovett just like Lyle
And then we'll do it doggy style
So we can both watch "X-Files"
Do it now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now 
SINCE OUR OWNERS HAVE NOT GOT THAT WE LIKE TO THINK BECAUSE THE THOUGHT AND 'HARMFUL, seriously affect the health PHARMACEUTICAL INDUSTRY, WHICH convinced us that nothing can' go bad Until we have the right and the duty filled with anti depressants, CHANGES HAVE BEEN MADE EVEN THE ART WORLD. The
IMMORTAL, INNOVATIVE, BUT TOO COMPLICATED ALBUM "ABBEY ROAD" AND THE BEATLES 'SENTENCE WAS AGAIN BY Teletubbies, make the language of the texts most' Simple, easy to absorb and playful.
HERE IN THE NEW WORLD PREMIERE, colorful COVER.
OLD ISSUE WAS (celebrated a funeral of Paul? The human race? Anyway, you know that I speak: another of the mysteries around the beatles).
IN THIS FANTASTIC, THERE COVER ULTRA TRANDY 'SPACE ONLY FOR CLARITY AND FUN, far from mourning as SORPASSATISSIMA THE VERSION.
THERE 'S SPACE FOR THE SADNESS.
... and I miss the music!
RELIABLE SOURCES CLAIM THAT THE PARASITE nonagenarian LOOKING FOR A tortoise RANCID IMMORTALITY close to death ABOVE HAS REFUSED TO SUPPORT THE TEACHING AT HOME AND IN PARLIAMENT.
PROVIDE YOU PSYCHO political maneuver.
do not despair.
HE 'HAS REALLY SMALL.
UNLESS THEY BE TALKING WITH ... KURZVEIL LI 'COCKS ARE FOR EVERYONE.
NOTHING blasphemous.
COMING IN THE BOTTOM OF THE POST understand why 'THAT.
will even ADVISED THAT YOU WILL HAVE TO ASCEND TO THE PAGE WITH A MOUSE BARRELS To understand what 'you read.
trying not to think about the physical and psychological malaise that grips the Italian province, that the whole of Italy scandalini of provincial and fingering ("pasta", you do not think that once I start talking about fingers into their vaginas human animals), Mama tries to make the dumplings, fishing recipe to / from the Internet. Compared with the average time
biological clock impiantatami personal guilt from unexplained fever (7:00 am), I woke up late for that which is my canonical Canone Inverso (great new book), so I ate breakfast a fleeting ( coffee without sugar) to the hotel / bar tobacconist abused by parties / near / close to home.
When pressing the by-product of the distorted nature takes over from inhumane food on the bottom right of the belly, cagarti and you're wearing, that's un'inamovibile, irrequivocabile, changes in the funeral car, decided to continue under the usual 50 km / h, appears before you, in a street where a continuous white line to overtake and argues that it is forbidden, magically, in front of it there are the cops that, yes, go slow, but not so slow as to prevent you from turning to take a shortcut or at least pull back a part of the ecosystem itself riperpetrata reinterpreted by one of its cells are also of human nature ...
... realize that the talisman of Padre Pio is another scam.
We were not really little.
I'm fine, I feel more balanced. Had I listened
the advice of the Danone and cool hunters I have now regained my natural regularity, I would not have these problems browns flavored with Southern Comfort.
I have to adapt, by listening to advice for buying.
So I'm going to dive into the world of information, in exchange for having so many laughs poisonous fish without a targeted, looking for a diamond in the middle of the dung.
tried dung and I was satisfied, as a child looking in a chocolate factory of Willie Wonka, the years go by, then forgets why he had entered there, falls in love with a hoooompa looompa, giving rise to a series of protests in nature nanofoba xenophobic, helping you to understand another unacceptable truth.
In TV we never talk about discrimination against people of "high otherwise."
Mayor Avetrano, a person really wake up, you can see from the lively eyes cesposi findable as salad plants in coastal habitat in Martock (TE).
He called hidden order in a law prohibition that bans people to ban short and no, not prevent, however, imposes no, as it was, it is a moment (the time is an illusion) has set aside an order that, no, fuck, WAIT, I will not start HURRY, I CAN NOT RUN AND REMEMBER MY LANGUAGE OF SHIT, he made a law (here, we return to reason, or at least, to make us understand, because I speak in the plural, ah, ho scordato le medicine, le medicine amico, quelle si che ti fanno bene).
No, ancora no.
Devo ricapitolare.
... come faccio, mica sono un bibliotecaio.
E adesso?
Che cavolo racconto?
IL TURISMO DELL'ORRORE.
Lo scazzato sindaco di Avetrano ha fatto in modo che non ci fossero più pellegrinaggi nella casa di Sarah scazzi, reindirizzando la folla verso luoghi più consoni al concetto di pellegrinaggio (e al loro tipo di cultura), tipo santuari della madonna dedicati alla Madonna e luoghi affini, per creduloni scemi con cervello nel medioevo e culo sulla sedia elettrica (a loro insaputa)
Mi ha fatto molto ridere come This time they used the language of journalistic propaganda Orwellian dictatorship to alarm people, unaware of what is going on for thousands of years, taken over by such things oh yes, the super enalotto, the lot, if I stop Solving the first prize a month to work then I Combro me buy ... the machine that llllà.
TOURISM horror. They did
debates here and there on the television "this time, only in this very special occasion" was insensitive (they crossed several tragedies and has speculated on them, look at 'What's new') and the little girl abused even in death has become an object of desire of the mass shit they have imposed on the populace another tragediuccia sociale usa e getta... PROPRIO QUANDO SAPPIAMO CHI SI FOTTE LA COSTITUZIONE AVANTI E DIETRO SENZA LUBRIFICAZIONI.
Succede qualcosa al re?
Terremoto.
Scandali.
Assassiniiiiiii.
Complotti.
Malasanità.
Malcostume.
Cavallette bibliche.
Io non credo ai complotti.
Mi sforzo di credere in dio; almeno ho qualcosa di “concreto” da odiare e, burlandomi di lui, aggiungo ulcere perforanti al mio corredo genetico spastico.
... e risiamo al...
IL TURISMO DELL'ORRORE.
Ci sono un sacco di persone darwinianamente evolute, OCCIDENTALI, con un buon reddito, che prendono l'aereo e vanno a Bankok...
... to fuck the asses of tender, juicy girls who, by agreement, six years already know how to do things that, on average, are learned after fifty, when you feel rough, to throw, and after you have signed up for facebook you realize that fuck on command was not so complicated but, unfortunately, begins to be Tardini.
such as tourism and more horrific, what to go see a house where there was an orgy of blood sponsored by the Coca Cola Company, and tourism aimed at rafforazre the character of young ladies used to pre natal incubators of guilt non-Eastern?
ask to stay awake all night.
What they can not do in Haiti. There
cholera broke out the alarm. If an alarm burst
... where they end up all the pieces?
mysteries of the cosmos.
broke the color.
could write on "Highly flammable, can explode."
There is not enough security.
propose the RFID microchip required for the entire planet. He returned
cholera.
I immediately thought it all began to smell "like."
But a game of words does nothing to appease the angry spirits.
Tell that to Saviano, taking his fight against the Camorra of € 2 million for the program that is preparing; sin that can not go to the mall to spenderseli personally.
Regarding the cholera outbreak there are problems: the multinational McMerdonald has shown its sensitivity (those who create food animals in the laboratory is as sensitive as a wart rotting in the eyeball with a knife in the sun rotting Equator) offering ...
say ...
have offered to help the poor little black bottom (yes, McDonald's is racist, not you can have everything in life is racist because of race ... is a creator himself!) Importing country in their thousands crates of mineral water per LOW ENERGY AND LIPID. The carcass of
McDonald, buried the carcass in the ass of the other deadly Mason Walt Disney (with the text style orgies of Cannibal Corpse, "post eiaculation mortal" and "Mummified on Barbwire) has re-emerged from the cold ground, and in this case, from the earth negra (kindly words taken from "ancient tears" the little girl's hand, the sun does not rejoice over the corpse of the son of Carducci) to communicate to the press: - Yes, we have decided to show the world that we are not barbarians racist motherfuckers Nazi profiteers who exploit all that (still for now) breathing, so we decided to donate the water low in calories and fat, so as to allow these sporchineg ... these dirty anime sloppy ground and bacteria were not created in our laboratories to continue their usual characteristic low-calorie diet.
who believe that there are thin because they do not know how he is the food?
're on a diet and then, when they eliminated all the excess fat is physically ready to embark on a path of step, push-ups, abs, squats, chest press, lat machine, curl art, so you can put on muscle mass ( without eating, trust me, there the food they do, and so from organic farming!) and, once they become giants NEGRI GANGSTA MUTHAFFAKKA ultra gym-sculpted, defined, with gold teeth and brains liquefied by the crack, can finally go on MTV, singing rhyming crap misleading, make millions of dollars, have the luxury of retiring at age 23, provided that an accidental bullet unscheduled carelessly crossing the their skulls, which is also tattooed & properly trained, so you can set a good example to future generations, because today's children are the masters of tomorrow, and once you become the masters of tomorrow will turn ... weights in the old stomach the day after tomorrow.
will require the board, will require that drain the urine with the catheter, which will require them to listen when they have nothing to say and then ...
do we do?
Let's get rid of the elderly, say it like it is using a realistic language: Let's get rid OF FUCKING OLD.
... I say all all.
In Italy, where "you get rid of all the fucking old" means that you cleaned up in parliament.
desert roam bales of hay to the parliament to witness to the ephemeral nature decadent.
were alive Bodler (Baudelaire fucking write it as I think, is my blog, okay? WRONG?) We would write a beautiful poem.
... then the masters of tomorrow will have to study it.
amazing how boundless knowledge of someone turns slavery perpetrated against the undeniable rights human a poor student from Bologna, more interested in the fuck girlfriends, barrel after bong after twelve years chiloom off course "family reasons", which absorb the priceless knowledge.
Take Dante. What
of crisps, no one with the funny hat.
He used all his life, body and soul to write the three Tomon which, together with sutures sterilized, give birth to quell'operona universally recognized as the "Divine Comedy".
first noted: "Divine" because the author decided that this was the 'nature.
Comedy ... Well, I've read, there was a fucking laugh.
A life in writing in versi la proiezione lisergica di sé stesso che, partendo dall'inferno, va a fare visita a tutti e dico tutti i poveracci dell'aldilà, senza risparmiarci i dettagli più cruenti, riuscendo a essere più insostenibile di David Foster Wallace quando decideva di farti pesare grammo per grammo sulle spalle stanche tutto il suo titanico enciclopedico sapere esponenziale.
La vita di Dante è costata la sanità mentale degli studenti di mezzo mondo.
Dante ha fatto quel che ha fatto.
Ok, ci dicono “ognuno è responsabile delle proprie azioni”.
ANDATELO A DIRE A TUTTE QUELLE PERSONE IMPLICATE NELLO SCANDALO DIVINA COMMEDIA.
Ore, giorni, mesi, anni, fifteen years, decades, dumped on his visionary madness.
was so important to learn the folly of a poor bastard?
will.
not want to think about, like the ones there with the heavy accent and the sexually promiscuous past not want to think that leaving the waste land.
Remember the episode of the Simpsons where they start to push the waste under the ground and then explodes all?
is happening here.
At least the Simpsons are funny.
this protest.
PROTEST THAT SHIT!?
PRODUCTS HAVE TONS OF SHIT?
Save it NOW. Instead of listening gasarvi
rolling "'or chieftain" or watching the "Camorra," as an incomparable work of art, take a plastic bag can not be recycled to the head, go home, the boss of the moment, tell him: - Note: half ass your mother, the other half of Nino 'angel with friendly greetings from the godfather of' fuck is.
shoot you in the eye, or you just buried alive, after having torn the tongue, as they do in Jamaica with women "talking too much" in return you will be well regarded socially, you have a good reputation.
Having a good reputation with the skull smashed and useful like having your ass crack without being able to use for recycling.
end in itself.
And as usual the good guys always win mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmdubbimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmseridubbimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
So the pope arrives and says ... to help the peace.
I help the peace every day: I throw the garbage, I'm going to buy the scratch cards, chased the cats entered illegally in his lawn to eat all the salad.
More than this I can do to Mrs. Pace.
Oh no, something I can do.
I can say to the Pope and his subordinates of shit to stay away from the altar boys butts, to resell at least 0,001% of its assets, so you can restore the world's public debt created in part by their emissaries child pornography.
I have it with them because, as every year, the circus tent Fides Life was re-assembled near the location of the landfill where I live.
Yesterday I've been there before.
I saw objects fly.
Yes, there do not have the force of gravity as they do not believe it. There is this
you believe.
What do not you think does not exist.
I found this.
There was also a great smoke.
intimacy, where Jesus can not see, because who ever lived, I thought, indeed, hoped, nay.
I do not want to be bad, karma is a serious matter, then it makes you svaccare everything.
If you get hurt badly.
NOT I hoped that everything was on fire.
I was happy for the barbecue of dead animals were doing to feed the fervent devout believers.
Indeed no, I was happy for them.
Indeed no, I felt pity.
fact no ...
See?
To make the Buddhist stay fucked as the other members of the seven self denial.
resign So, buy yourself the 3D screen, wait for death in Dolby surround sound, after paying the fee for digital terrestrial.
Once there were the problems we are now, because there was no soap, people do not drink the shit of civil rights. For
dictators had it easy.
The "Lodo Alfano".
Chiccazzo Alfano is?
Why praise?
What praises?
Ahhhhh, it is likely to give a leccaculaggine career on top of the pyramid of control sheep.
Be ', stroke him and his wife.
And unborn children of spastic children have already been brought by the same disease. A Napolitano
we are thinking nature.
HE (the old fool with a face like Mr. Magoo in the laboratory hybridized with the DNA of diseased tortoise) said it remains impassive about the laws buggers personam.
is obvious: a job you dare to contradict your boss master of life, bad slaves unworthy to live another nano second?
rightly so.
To make a career you submit.
Once you've made a career ...
...
...
...
What!
Ah.
Once you have made a career around the gourmet food, sexual endorphin in the world, you can eat all you want, as well as satiety.
The problem is another: when you've spent a lifetime lick hairy ass and soles of boots, you will have the language encrusted shit, your taste buds no longer work (only time will really get a sense pierced tongue) and you can not longer feel the taste of things.
Was it worth it? Yes
Holy shit, when you have a Ferrari in the ass are the master of the world.
pity that the master of the world also has masters.
you know who is the master of the master of the world? If you're
those who think that God really exists, who is the owner / head of god?
His madness.
His perversions. We
subordinated motherfuckers sadistic megalomaniac.
What is our dream / purpose in life? Become
like / most of them.
Then when lunch scato watching movies with piss, diarrhea and vomiting tell me I'm sick.
At least the actors have to be covered by the above bodily fluids.
you do not.
But I'm more relaxed.
Now that they have arrested another boss life has meaning.
think.
Last night I had a suitcase with thirty thousand euro and I left it open road without that no one touch her.
For this propose to give unlimited power to the police.
educated people, rational spirit, which ensures human security, with a right to judge as they see fit without any repercussions.
YES '.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
Come on, repeat after me with a big smile.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
Do not you feel better?
And 'what we want.
And 'what we want.
AND 'THIS CEH WANT.
continue to repeat.
AND 'THIS I always dreamed of.
AND 'THIS I always dreamed of.
AND 'THIS I always dreamed of.
a little effort.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
ARE NOW FREE AND HAPPY.
is done, praise be to Jesus
JESUS \u200b\u200b'LOVE YOU, THANKS FOR FREEDOM'.
JESUS \u200b\u200b'LOVE YOU, THANKS FOR FREEDOM'
JESUS \u200b\u200b'LOVE YOU ... because you touch me like that? You said that it was wrong.
Shut up and worship, God!
not sin 'NEVER AGAIN' WHY 'I LOVE JESUS' FREE AND WE ARE FREE, AND 'WHAT YOU WANT, That 's what I want and' why I've always dreamed of, It 's what he gives me.
not sin 'NEVER AGAIN' WHY 'I LOVE JESUS' AND ARE FREE, AND 'WHAT I'VE ALWAYS DREAMED AND' WHAT he gives me.
not sin 'NEVER AGAIN' WHY 'I LOVE JESUS' AND ARE FREE, AND 'WHAT I'VE ALWAYS DREAMED AND' WHAT he gives me. When
repeat a thousand times the same thing at the end you fall in love, you convince yourself that everything will be fine so that when you find yourself starving, without teeth, the bones like a xylophone in the concentration camp to kill your fellow for a crumb of bread dropped in the mud diligently fucking happy and convinced "That 's what we want, nam myoho renge kyo" and all evil will disappear.
Col loaf of bread.
Bon appetit.
MOTHER, STOP 'STI cocaine, get a moment's peace.
to vent her frustrations suffered by the alleged failure and self invented, my mother gets angry with alternative category.
Maybe today are drug addicts.
Tomorrow are the right ones.
day after tomorrow will be the masters of tomorrow.
In the middle I'm watching, I feel something growing inside me.
I'm not a woman.
I'm not a creature of Geiger.
... I guess this time it's a tumor.
Seriously.
Fuck with sentient nanotechnology di Ray Kurzveil guarirò nel giro di pochi minuti.
Dobbiamo vivere in eterno.
Così potremo continuare a lavorare amorevolmente, a essere liberi, a rispettarci tutti l'un l'altro con amore e devozione innamorata.
Solo da morto potrai riposarti.
In paradiso i bambini giocano con le bestie feroci, ci sono bei fiumi, I CESPUBLI BRILLANO e tutte quelle cose la sugli opuscoli della Torre di Guardia.
Figurati l'eternità come un prato dove tutti vanno d'accordo in perfetta armonia leccando il culo di dio, sperando di far carriera.
... cazzo se mi fa paura la morte, altroché!!!!!!
Dio e affini.
Anche a me è capitato di meet someone famous but not really important. Me
the purpose as well.
You know the face of a dangerous homosexual suicidal and nihilistic that the clergy has decided to give San Gabriel?
Go to google, type in "San Gabriel".
To be more practical, one of the photo quissopra.
my girlfriend's mother was born and raised in a prehistoric village near the shrine of St. Gabriel in the province of Teramo.
He made everybody believe that she was born there, not in the prehistoric village with stone houses.
To handle the history and maintain an ironclad alibi, forced the family pilgrimages to frequent "by relatives "living in the quaint village.
The village is full of priests, nuns, etc., being a large shopping center (they want to make a McDonald's in front of the sanctuary hahahahah, when I knew I was going to burst, he told me a gadget that sells statues of saints and saints, "Industry in which shtà gris", from what he told me the sad operator.).
A group of sisters Sara took her hand, still at an age when he did not know the pleasures of the male penis and lap dance in front of the ultras Samb (confidential information) and showed a series of photos.
A dozen photos.
was choosing the appearance, APPEARANCE, THE LOOK OF SAN GABRIEL, as the original one with the helpless fat ass and your ass face life span to the lambs that we slipped (it was his favorite hobby after "compassion" and the Masonic compass).
In his innocence, Sara chose this picture.
From that day on San Gabriel is mentioned according to the distorted aesthetics of baby Sara.
All your relatives, your friends, we, we have one thing in common that when Sara decided, within hours, he could think.
the end me and my world, sometimes in a direct way ... Persecute you.
So be careful.
Be very careful.
few years we scegliere la fisionomia del nuovo padre pio e camperemo coi diritti d'autore.
Allora scriverò un post di questo blog al giorno.
Coi soldi arrivano i guai.
... è un rischio che sono pronto a correre.
Quanto ai neri che fanno "successo" dico solo "salto di rete televisiva".
Quando un nero è ricco sta su MTV.
Quando un nero è povero sta su Discovery Channel.
Sweat baby, sweat baby
Sex is a Texas drought
Me and you do the kind of stuff
That only Prince would sing about
So put your hands down my pants
And I bet you'll feel nuts
Yes I'm Siskel, yes I'm Ebert
And you're getting two thumbs up
You've had enough of two-hand touch
You want it rough, you're out of bounds
I want you smothered, want you covered
Like my Waffle House hashbrowns
Comin' quicker than Fed Ex
Never reach an apex
Just like coca-cola stock
You are inclined to make me rise an hour early
Like a daylight savings clock
Do it now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now
Love, the kind you clean up
With a mop and bucket
Like the lost catacombs of Egypt
Only God knows where we stuck it
Hieroglyphics? Let me be pacific
I wanna be down in your South Seas
But I got this notion
That the motion of your ocean means
"Small Craft Advisory"
So if I capsize on your thighs
High tide B-5 you sunk my battleship
Please turn me on
I'm Mr. Coffee
With an automatic drip
So show me yours, I'll show you mine
"Tool Time"
You'll Lovett just like Lyle
And then we'll do it doggy style
So we can both watch "X-Files"
Do it now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Do it again now
You and me baby we ain't nothin' but mammals
So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel
Gettin' horny now
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Recent Reviews On Moon Palace,punta Cana
AN EXAMPLE Saturday
filmstrips, METAFORINE SOCIAL, shit.
THE FUTURE AND 'THIS.
LOOK like you're SEEING THIS FILM A DOCUMENTARY ON RELIABLE NOSTRADAMUS. The mites
READY TO SAVE, SO 'TO PLAY WELL, YOU GET THE SCREEN YOU.
blaspheming God THINK ON HIM WHEN THE NOSE PIG.
HIM AND 'THE TRUE GOD, THERE, AND HAS 60 YEARS' a Nazi megalomania shit.
SOON THE LOVE, I love his name. RAY
KURTZVEIL.
For some peoples of the world perpetually at war with each other, Jesus is been the historical savior of humanity.
I wonder who saved them before his coming.
were sentenced to be condemned for lack of time available to the rescuers?. However
.
He did a lot of miracles, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, integrating the misfits.
It was everything and being able, having the power and the blessing of himself, he did what he did.
3 days, 3 nail ... and they NEU-TRA-ZA-TO-LIZ.
annihilated.
To prepare the dough in the oven for two people my mother claimed to 1000ml of sauce.
1 liter of sauce for two people.
1 kg of white sauce.
A pint of white sauce.
½ liters per head.
the historical Jesus was savior of mankind, and that was all he could, in his power, he has performed.
was neutralized by three nails.
They have even used a pound of nails.
weighed but I do not know what the legend is fleeting, religions are unlikely.
The fact remains that, on paper, and gastronomically speaking, my mother is the most pretentious of Jesus, and it passed.
Fa la pasta baked with ingredients in quantities greater than those used in the act of crucifixion.
... the class is not water.
... a ginocchio non è lo sternocleidomastideo.
Oggi mi divertirò parecchio, col mio cervello.
Per farlo, devo riportarlo (il cervello pesa niente) alla giornata di ieri, sabato l'abito.
Venere la cenere.
Giove le ove.
Mercole le nesopole.
Marte le scarpe.
Lune la fune che fine non avrà.
Va la Rosina bella al mercà'.
Trecentomilalire annue, spese durante i tre anni obbligatori, per gli obbligatori testi, per poter frequentare le obbligatorie scuole medie hanno portato a questo.
Ci impararono quella canzone.
Mentre la intonavamo, mi affascinavano gli ipotetici milleusi che avrei potuto do with the rope of moons.
The psychiatrist I clip the wings, so I stopped dreaming.
I converted to the religion that worships the Ritalin in a frozen night in late August.
Since yesterday was Saturday, there was a dick to do Camillo and I had already warned the day before the ash, to Jason Vhoories, we went to the luxurious conference center in San Cursed del Tronto, province of Ascoli olivafritta Piceno (AP).
Yes, the province "of" where live those ignorant ungrammatical enhanced by microscopic views of living in the Middle Ages, celebrating this lifestyle by the Quintana every fucking summer.
Office error is marked "sternocleidomastideo" that "demand."
Quintana no.
Softwareuncolo ignorant fascist. But
succumbs.
Despite his forties, Camillo has behaved correctly, warned that parents would be home in time for lunch.
The mother was eternally grateful to him, turning a page of the week puzzles, trying not to think her son alone in a world of destruction and drugs too expensive.
Entering the front door (usually enter the emergency exit to avoid paying) we cast into a world foreign to our particular way of conceiving life.
To use a metaphor of the singer Samuele Bersani euphemistic, "suck life from the corners, so she has no complaint of "harassment by suction abominable."
gigantic tapestry caressed the front desk, one with the large waiting room equipped with piano.
I would have liked to taste the poetry of this 'nice tool, but desistei, aware that in some art circles, the real one, and the various semantic fields adjoining, act solely for ornamental purposes, using them would be an insult against conformity wanted by' dullness conservative feature / characteristic hotels of a certain level to be scientifically correct (**** stars).
As if now I come to your house, I see a chair and ruin sedendomici.
But we are mad?
The voice of my friend set director was quick to accept us in all respects as two of the sector, secure and proud, as we climbed the stairs with no cure us of the response of the receptionist, whose voice echoes behind our backs aware, a vaguely remembered "the conference is on the second floor."
We knew.
The request was a pure formality for the return stroke of musically could not be toying with the object of hatred of each student shopen.
I write how the fuck I want, right?
... Oh well, I do not remember how to spell Chopin, 'MOUNT' n fig, so it is just a blog, we are network, ignorance has been accepted, forgiven, integrated, now also award-winning, as overflowing flooded, so hurry up and turn the mouse wheel, moves the page down the bottom, without fuss.
Ignorance is Strength.
the second ramp, struck by a deadly breath, I crossed (Jesus?) Eyes with an old lady of twenty years, over, inside the old, unconscious dead, alive by a miracle agreement concluded in the outdated with outdated laws DIY mortality.
Thanks to computers it has come to be able to negotiate with our destiny.
not you know?
Go to wikipedia, search for "How die without fouling too much. "
intrasensoriale Conspicuously marked by the experience, to tone down gloomy dell'infausta climb Camillo informs me that today, if you're nobody and you want to become a director, rather than the canonical 10% on your agent you are sucking the 40 trading feasible without .
You have to adapt as the orgies of gifted, even if you are visibly below the average of the health committee.
... You can still buy books Macro Edizioni affixed to regain self-esteem in a second, third time.
should only strong will and blind faith in personal coach Roy Martina.
1 Dvd 1000 hopes.
... and we have a lot of the above the messianic average of 3 nails, here is what "the human race has progressed further evolved."
arrived in front of the infernal conference room door (bitch, down the fucking radio, we understand that you've worked the last six years just to buy a stereo system in accordance with NASA, do not do it 'weighs on us, and What the fuck!) Camillo risfoderato the baritone voice of the galaxy by managers to persuade the fierce vigilance, atavistic walkie talkies equipped (even plurals Inglese them write it as I think).
To be a conference of editors was a very controlled.
Very safe. Two
boing747 the WTC, a plane wing of the Pentagon, fourth plane into the district of Somerset were unable to stop them.
we risk being stopped in its tracks.
Four buildings, ten bouncers and we are still above the average of the Lord.
See?
Over time, what has surprised us even lost value.
entering, assail us forcing us to subscribe. Now I think "Yeah I have to carve, to know me before I brought the guitar back, left-handed as a vocation, not by choice, unable to use tools of right-handed.
was the rhyme time in my life when I signed Rod Serling.
And before that day, the art gallery suffered The same evening I signed Rod for a second time, after noticing that all participants signed first by e-mail address (or myspace), then with your name, address style semi / not legible, type of doctor scribbles.
A degree in medicine is this: given the power to invent a doodle that's you, your name on paper is not recyclable.
the face of environmentalism.
As at school, good villains come up with pranks of juicy, we took place in front of the room, hung with paintings dubbissimissimo taste, non-existent value, tending to human low shot, but a nice fake acrylic triptych of the god Zeus intention to launch a ball (the world?) v ship, in that exact moment when the story took place right under the flying bed on which he epically Rising muscular, strongly points from the concept of realization / rationalization / implementation of existing human scale of the painting.
But he was (I speak as a deity in the past fallen into disuse, except when New Year is called by children and adolescents arsonists) a god.
could afford.
In the penultimate row, in front of my red glassy eyes of sleep, a paunchy rampant semi obese manager in his fifties. From time to time he turned, smiling, in an attempt to establish a relationship between the old guard and the venture new generations to educate and preserve, succeeding in similar results to those obtained with the will to pass a camel through the eye of genetically modified a needle without the aid of a nano assembler.
has not been sluggish indifference on the part of Camille or discourtesy on my part, my attention was traveling on the wavelength of the musical note, white cotton illusory imperfection formed by chance behind the jacket of this rampant prossimissimo death Explosion infarction, tie, automatically looking for youth attention.
A note without additional cutting.
The guy was a man who knows what he wants even when no one knows exactly what the menu has to offer. Had it not been for
elargitami innocent nudge from my fellow adventure I would have been staring at that patch of dry cleaning lint from wrong to try to understand the key (I had already mentally placed in a fruitful staff) .
not why I write books on music as Maurensig.
"You see that guy, those two files back?".
I did not understand.
intuitively sensed that he was referring to the kind of soggy hamburger human placed in the row saddest and least colorful of the entire room.
recurve on itself, as sacredly pledged to pour into the soul of itself, the homunculus peering fruits of years of wrong feeding, gazing, the prominent belly, appearing as the eyes of the careless ... a human hamburger.
is a hamburger, does not mean that the company forbade him to have a chance to make their way of life in the ruthless market. The guy was
("E '" if he did not die during the night), an anthropologist married to a petite Thai lady is not present in the room.
Years ago he went to Polynesia to study a Maori tribe remained at the dawn of industrialization dirty ipertechnopsycho in vogue on the planet.
He spent six months in the company of the people undergoing a multitude of "evidence of dignity, "so she could buy up the trust, the tribe's consent to be examined under a microscope.
Six months of fighting with wild beasts (hamburger fight with the tiger?), Countless voyages into the jungle wilderness (hamburger in the salad?), Exercise test (hamburger suffering?) And nothing, nothing, the Maori were not that feelings need to give him the luxury of vivisection.
Big Mac vivisection Maori tribes.
I can already see the headlines!
Discouraged, the anthropologist created in the laboratory to the Mc Donald (I'm not good at finding metaphors / similes appropriate to indicate in a stylistically acceptable hamburger five feet from me) was about to leave the island forever not remember the name when ...
A sign of the gods. A sign from the gods
The antropoburger was able to examine under a microscope, dissect meticulously the Maori tribe, his primitive habits, with the full consent of the tribal chief after a clear, unequivocal act manifesting the will of the lord of the Polynesians.
Sitting under a palm tree, the anthropologist felt his head explode when a coconut fell on the head.
was the signal by which the lord of the tattooed people gave its approvals so that the progress of malls invaded the laughing tribe Ounces Were Warriors more primitive than Jake "the fury".
A year of living with the Maori did not help to lose weight do, in fact, those who knew him first argues that the experience was a handsome, wiry Indiana Jones Noantri.
... they say the abundance is given to the racist people of the West ...
The speakers were a handful of representatives of the most prestigious Italian publishing houses. A
a handful of Maori meters from my nose dripping snot generated from the assumption of repeated derived from grasses (mucus are not bacteria, Pasteur is exceeded, mettetevelo in the head or the hard disk that you have implanted in the cerebral cortex ) were spokesmen for Minimum Fax, Mondadori, Einaudi, etc..
With a simple homemade bomb could put a stop publishing rubbish in Italy just at the moment there I thought I was doing the association Piano downstairs / Maori in front of me.
The Piano is a film to be reassessed.
Oh, I'll be the only one Alpha male in the world that he dreamed, he moved with Holly Hunter reciting the spastic mute melancholy attached to his piano, he lets her go down in the bottom of the ocean after being crippled by that asshole was Agent Smith in The Matrix, angry at you for extramarital relations between his wife and the fake Maori Bad Lieutenant Harvey Keitel once again that shows the bird (it will be proud of it) but I'm not ashamed.
think that Sara's house no more TV in the dining room (economic reasons) and instead of it, shines its lush cover of the VHS of this magnificent film.
instills a bit 'of peace to the turbulent behavior of life for parents of my girlfriend friend girl next door (one person can be all things to another person, you can, I think when I'm alone and I do not have to clean up the handkerchiefs breast dirty my children ever born).
The old, outdated items followed one another in loops in the bad acoustics of the room half empty, if after publishing market research publishers.
After five minutes I realized that if the publishing industry is in the hands of people like that, you might as well offer themselves as guinea pigs for experiments already underway on the installation of nano technology in humans.
This, plus a feeling of nausea lazy banality perpetrated by third parties.
No bucket to pour the food the previous day.
I resisted with great effort.
filth, vulgarity, cryptic ambiguity (spoke to a 1 byte per minute, arrived on a delayed three seconds without the hindrance of the microphone), carelessness, ignorance about the human condition.
I will not say anything about what I heard.
The result is that I understand how we perceive ruling class.
From home, with computers, they think they know / understand the world outside of their homes, and decide what to do, arch convinced they know what is best qualified to know and what is better left hidden in dusty corners of the collective.
55% OF THE ITALIAN never read.
's 11% read a book each month.
THE LAW OF 30% 2 books a year.
LIVES IN THE REMAINDER OF FACTORY WILLIE Wonka.
It was there that I examined the idea of \u200b\u200bgoing to the bathroom to masturbate (eject weakness) or visit the unattended hotel rooms (the convention center has 110 rooms, not even a ben abitata).
Succube figlio della MTV generation quale sono, ho optato per il passivo, perpetuo stato di quiete, non spostando il culo dalla sedia manco d'un pico millimetro.
Parlavano, parlavano, articolavano frasi senza senso, banalità dopo atrocità, il tempo s'era cristallizzato e, passata la fase contemplativa di tale fenomeno scientifico/spettacolo cronologico, ho assistito al processo di deterioramento e ammuffimento dell'orologio biologico del mio organismo arreso alle leggi naturali.
Intanto passavano la parola “a”...
Non fossero state le alte scarpe dal tacco 72 di una bionda brufolosa avrei abbandonato la sala gridando all'attentato bomba terroristi fate qualcosa inoffensivizzatevi bowls for the love of god denied drowned!
It takes little to keep me good.
One guy was tasting scene, me and the blonde team the circus stilts.
An unhealthy triad at the center of a room esoteric gear.
At the time of discharge, in the throes of emotion (brain) I have produced a spontaneous applause from the heart, sincerely for having given to my captors spared two hours of non-philosophical monologues on the concept of absolute nothingness in contrast to the cosmic void.
The center of the atom is empty, the reality is an illusion created by the brain / eyes that sent perceive as real and the rest of the body, which the records and agree as a tangible, solid, thanks to our software that would be the deoxyribonucleic acid ("DNA" if you look on facebook to ask the friend or if you just like this).
Such awareness, no more surprises, but I was appalled in the face of unquantifiable so empty, I felt like Silver Sufrer lost among millions of galaxies, stars stuck to the electric blanket in the universe.
Without even a distributor of coffee.
then why Silver Surfer was sick, his armor started to rot together the (zone one with it) and ceased to exist in this size, lying on a bed in the middle of his beloved Zenn-La.
escaped from the nerve center of power no self service we went to the Coop to quell the anxiety, frustration, dissatisfaction, with gargantuan binge.
The food has become the version of "natural" of psychiatric drugs.
take pills to smile. We hire for butter
serotonizzarci and benevolent cosmic tune frequencies so you can bear, always there if the system allows for 30 more years in a call center or in our office amatodiato.
Office?
unofficial thing?
I were / are you taking the piss?
Well continuate pure, tanto sarà ancora per poco.
Camillo ha optato per uno strategico bombardamento alle transaminasi, immettendosi nel piatto ben 644g (pesato da competente bilancia digitale) di olive ascolane fritte (“quintana”, “ignoranza”, “olive fritte”; dietro a tutto questo scorgo un complotto di proporzioni infinitejestiane, perché “bibliche” mi pare troppo piccolo, sopratutto ora che abbiamo appurato quanto mia madre, in termini di besciamella e non, riesca con nonchalance a battere i record del Signore), crocchette di patate e verdure fritte.
La parte riguardante una sana, coscienziosa pulizia della coscienza risiede nel contorno, cotto a vapore, peas and carrots in plastic.
This is also a theme that returns in the post, though always persevere in reading my cock, lovingly flat-spotted the eyes of thousands of lovers of really curious voyeuristic snuff movies socially acceptable.
Personally, I opted for a healthy dose (525g) of vegetables baked in Bergen Belsen, to balance the calories of protein a body devoted to massive consumption of alcohol at Eurospin (lower middle rasentante the ground).
chewing, I looked around me regenerating, reinterpreting the apathy of the others facing the 12,000-inch LCD screen that told what was happening in the world. A guy
wanted to flirt with me, I do not know what "flertare" so I made him understand that we could do together all you wanted as long that would take your pants get up in the meantime Camillo was justified by saying that at home eating "normal" for the , when it is to consume meals outside and from the family, is prone to excesses abound comforters fried.
I understand well. Use
fried as I use the triple malt.
got into the car, direct to my house to give me a way to expel the waste from the process of synthesizing food (I had to shit bad), we have enjoyed sound art technotronic good, old, loved Prodigy in this timeless masterpiece is "The fat of the land." From simple
not tolerate the drum &bass; the Prodigy are a separate book, Fat of the land it is the only formidable chapter in 52 min - 21 s (the one I have, the original, so hard, then I do not know you and I do not care).
arrived on the waterfront we enjoyed the delicious hide the sun, the enemy is not suitable for cyanotic, reptilian like us.
I reasoned to hibernate.
In this cauldron of fake palm trees and ill-fed sewage ENTAILING in our beautiful sea blue flag (that is, the water is blue Martinsicuro even when it is taken out of context maritime per riporla ad esempio in un bicchiere; chi ha detto che “l'acqua non ha colore, è trasparente e il mare è blu perché riflette il cielo”? Venite, ve lo dimostro. Ricordatevi le maschere anti contaminazione nucleare, altrimenti nisba, non voglio passare guai per voi) Camillo ha illuminato sulle scoperte di un personaggio ancora da inquadrare bene.
Avete presente Ozymandias di Watchmen?
Esiste.
Ha 60 ed è un perfetto stronzo.
È un dio reale.
Crea, distrugge, trasforma a suo piacimento.
Ray Kurzveil è un tipo vagamente somigliante a Enrico Ghezzi.
La differenza tra i due risiede nel contributo dato all'umanità.
The second makes her laugh and think.
The first restructuring the molding in molds. In summary
pills (and groceries, the shit you'll see feeds capsules as below).
Kurzveil Ray, a good fascist, reasons for twentysomethings.
Twenty years after twenty years.
The owners of Our Lives (Stephen Jobs, Bill Gates etc.. Etc.) Telefonatina him with when they are unsure what to do.
Ray is an expert in all, scientist and inventor.
with mathematical perfection can predict what will happen.
You know why?
No, not if it pulls you read all the books of David Icke, or because it feels bigger than Roy or Martin because he possesses all the "illegitimate children", paper and video, The Secret (and here I've finished all the clichés about the new pseudo FOUND Omniscient assets / buy online). He provides
WHY 'he creates.
You know those horrible cartoons of the sixties where there was a jerk who put a brick (or something) in a machine of metal that was crackling, skipping a few seconds, and then came BUM shoes, cars, televisions and articles similar?
The nano assembler is one of the things that Ray is working.
Thus, for example.
"predicted" that would have created a computer capable of defeating man chess.
Done.
Kasparow at home with their tails between their legs.
is testing on himself nano technologies sentient car.
You have cancer?
Just a shot. The nano
cells traveling alone, without "accompany" the human cancer where it is situated, if the locksmith and then deleting it, once finished the job, without even a letter of dismissal, are expelled from the body with a good crap.
Prostitute robot?
Today there are few and imperfect, reserved only for wealthy businessmen from life disaster, using that money, the scientists under the supervision of Ray endeavor to continue the search, until it can mass produce, at affordable prices, so that all of us we have one, as is the case with dogs and cats in Korea mechanical REAL always of his own invention, until the world will be populated (I think that this has "predicted" in 2020 and is not an asshole that wrong!) from humans and sentient machines with human feelings.
When we look at a person ask if it is an original or a fake.
FICTION?
I tell you mine.
From what I could ascertain, what we call "science fiction" "Fictional science" really is a science that, when it is assumed, discovery, is too complex to be understood, implemented, seem exaggerated, if not ridiculous.
because it is "fantastic science".
Sci-Fi.
Why is not called "Science can not," "Impossible Science. Take a
australopitecus afarenesis: Talk of Gutenberg's movable type or RFID chip implanted in humans.
will respond with a club, followed by a UH UH UH, translated from language to language ape-human means ...
FICTION.
Cazzo, stiamo qui a grattarci i peli delle ascelle scimmiesche, a stordire le femmine con clavate in testa, cercando di capire come scheggiare una pietra per ucciderci così per passare il tempo e tu non solo mi dici che i nostri pensieri possono essere messi per iscritto, prima con disegnini del cazzo, poi con grafemi, stampati in grandi quantità e divulgate al mondo talmente evoluto da doversi difendere da sé stesso assicurandosi pure il buco del culo, ma anche che dio non esiste?????
Be', per una domenica mattina nel pleistocene è un pochino ino troppo.
Dici fandonie.
Ora, se permetti, vado a vedere se mi è possibile creare un aratro.
... qualche passettino più in là, l'umanità è a questo livello, perciò non stupitevi di niente.
Dick, Gibson (no Mel, quello è un cristiano fascista di merda) Huxley, Matheson, Serling, non erano visionari dalla fervida geniale immaginazione che “ci hanno azzeccato”, ne le fonti d'ispirazione dei progettatori, costruttori di mondi e realtà.
Era gente che sapeva guardare avanti senza la tanto millantata VISIONARIETA' CLASSICA DEL CAZZATARO SCRITTORE DI FANTASCIENZA.
Così come Orwell.
Per il 2040, al massimo 2050 ognuno di noi avrà (altro che microchip; 'na pippa) un hard disk nel cervello e, come in Johnny Mnemonic del già citato Gibson saremmo delle USB flash drives fucking street.
All this, as usual, with our full blessing.
assume. When we
sentient androids, most of us humans (in Korea has fired a lot of English teachers and in their place we have put robots ... you know why? Because the robots were more patients!) Imagine the technology we have at home.
Right now, with various detergents and cocks in the house that you can make several bombs and napalm.
You can become a skilled McGyver.
In the future, imagine only (and only science fiction, as when they speak and precisely ascertained that the earth was flat, at the time believed this blindly, who said the opposite was fucking back and forth without joy, if not forever), there is much technology, high quality QUALITY 'it will be. A common frustration fifteen
could make life a constant joke to say a few thousand people.
PANIC: ALL would commit a genocide with a pin hair !!!!!!!!!!!!!
global nuclear alert, ALARM HUMAN crazy. We
us to let us drill the skull to take some type contraption that crap of water purifiers that are installed in the home fans to purify the new age of ultra-fluoridated tap water, for our security, AS USUAL.
That has to do with security?
As we begin to produce anti-social thoughts and bad, that is the famous "Psycho offense" in babbling Orwell in 1984 (so much science fiction as the medieval playstation3 on a pyre), we like to watch the "Precog" Minority Report, shit where the note that says "guilty" and we will be executed without trial (if one thinks evil once more and can do it!), for the good of humanity FREE for any worries, which will no longer need to work in As the machines will be able to work auto program e. ..
No, go ahead, I already have dilungato oltre misura, devo continuare il racconto del sabato folle.
Ricordatevi che è tutta fantascienza, sono tutte stronzate ed è impossibile perché...
Perché lo dite voi e perché lo dico io.
Perché ci fa comodo.
Perciò guardate tutti gli elettrodomestici INUTILI che avete attorno (un frullatore serve alla razza umana come la razza umana serve alla madre terra), ridete di loro, in quanto GIA' SORPASSATI, e ridete di quei patetici operaietti degli anni '50 che avevano un solo televisore in bianco e nero ogni dieci famiglie.
Negli anni '40 era fantascienza che gli umani creassero una luminosa scatola parlante in grado di trasmettere immagini a distanza.
C'era to fight the war and nothing else.
In the 50s it was fiction that each family had a TV in the house, was to think of the post war reconstruction, which èèèèèèè meeeeegilo, as would private.
Go to the Leonardo da Vinci and say: "You who do so much capiscione, you know the Smurfs? Be ', then' fuck you and your newfangled, bum da best seller by Dan Brown / Gerry Scotti (if you look at the photo you see that Dan is with Jerri Tera 2 pounds of fat in less ... and as he would say, " May God bless you ").
We went and took Sarah on galloping notes of Johnny Cash and his amazing greatest hits purchased for the modest sum of diecimila lire, quand'era fantascienza possedere una macchina luminosa a intermittenza che ti fa avere gratis tutta la musica desiderata in pochi minuti.
Camillo ci ha deliziato con la narrazione del suo ultimo lavoro su commissione.
Camillo è un regista di film e del resto.
Alla porta di casa, gli si è presentata la madre superiora di un arcaico convento.
“Mi manda il fotografo”.
Camillo ha subito pensato a un complotto oftalmo/clericale (gioco di parole scemo tra il fotografo e la casta dei man in balck pedofili di clausura) ma poi s'è rincuorato quando la madre superiora gli ha consegnato le fotocopie di tre passaporti di suore filippine, cosicché avesse potuto add their names spelled correctly in the menus of the DVD, on which played an hour of high mass to celebrate the hiring of three sisters, in fact, the Philippines.
Today as you take on today only in church.
The disadvantage is another.
If you resign (or speak) will make your ass.
It is not nice.
While in church, the people is moved by HOLINESS 'of the occasion, who were seen in 46 years that his country was not celebrated a rite of that thickness, so as to have a bother cardinalvescovocamerlengo wearer of a hat twice as greater than those which usually begins Jamiroquai, possessor of a golden throne bishop of the size of a new Panda model, Camillo was dedicated to invigorating activity of double recovery, SHOOT DOUBLE (not pornographic sense), having understood the true magnitude of the event humorous, having decided to have his recovery personnel to view and review joyfully lively in the privacy of her bedroom , away from watchful eyes warner to make fun of medieval bullshit that Catholics are still doing today, now that we are on the threshold of a pan technologizing the human being, not to say the Die Mensch Maschine Kraftwerk crautosi.
The development consisted of a long litany in which all were cited, one by one (but not in order of influence, importance, power exercised) and say to all the saints in the calendar, a day, 365 (366 if leap year), more martyrs, holy apostles and so on and so forth away because my stomach full of bile.
The three sisters of the Philippines, spread on the floor, offered their chastity to the Lord.
The contract was not specified "which" give the man hole in the grim universe of confining chastity, to be used for and what use / purpose hobbies and leisure (the clergy's right to recreation, otherwise then they take it with the children; Oh yeah, I remember before I forget, in the future society will (already do not remember which country) of the children to vent mechanical pedophiles, thinking that they have LA TESTA INTERCAMBIABILE, COSI' LO STUPRA CULETTI AVRA' L'ILLUSIONE DI VARIARE L'OGGETTO DEI PROPRI ABUSI, altro che quella puttana di megan gale che sostiene che il mondo è intorno a te, col cazzo).
L'effeminato trentenne prete vecchio dentro, con fare effeminato tendente all'omosessuale a 367,45° cantava da cappone castrato ricordando l'ormai dimenticato primo cantante dei Dream Theatre, quand'ancora si facevano chiamare Majestic e scassavano le palle il triplo di adesso (anzi, fino a poco fa, Portnoy se n'è andato perché nelle sue ville non aveva più spazio per nascondere il soldi che non riusciva a far entrare nelle strabordanti banche svizzere), alzando l'indice auditel di commozione generale tanto the idea that makes you a veteran nun sailed to extract from his bag a small hand-held camera to perpetuate the fleeting moment.
Here we enter the territory of the destination movie.
Camillo was recovering the nun director.
The nun's arm cast in a grotesque tzukamotesca craetura telecamerizzata turned, doing a masterful overview of the hall full of returnable bottles dripping from his eyes minerals for Christ, with Christ, Christ and we are three, plus the driver, the motor Mystical (needless to go to Naples four on a scooter, which serves as a divine power?) so long as it is over the physical space available and she has been seen trapped in the objective Camillo, a nun who was focused on decoding the picture of Camille with his camera, which turned goal tetsuoesca kinetic movements of the chaste bride of Christ, to resume a fixed camera Camillo fixed on her.
The revised his movies, could establish that depend quell'automa fides life was for 40 seconds, with the expression of an android face demagnetized printed in Camillus to resume taking it.
It was brave, my faithful companion of raids, did not lower his eyes (the camera) even before the power omni (IM) powerful (non) person, let alone in front of his wicked emissary.
Jungian free association: I say "emissary" I say "den of tigers."
's what brings in prepubertal couch potatoes.
Had I known ...
stunned the car in a parking lot of luck, since it's Saturday and all the good sheep they went to the course (our goal) to make the tanks back and forth, alternating the daily routine of visiting / shopping centers.
mall Monday. Tuesday
course. Wednesday
mall.
course
Thursday Friday Saturday
mall full.
The creative flair of modern man !!!!!!!
Ci ri rechiamo di fronte al palacongressi per visitare i molteplici stand sotto cui vari autori tentano di vendere i propri cartacei figli, i loro preziosi romanzi, le loro immortali raccolte di poesie.
15€ un libro di 50 pagine di un autore sconosciuto e quel figlio di troia di editoruncolo si lamentava che non legge più nessuno.
Perché lo fai, disperata ragazza mia?
Costa meno dell'ultimo di Pynchon.
E poi, perché ti ho conosciuto.
Detto questo debbo dire dell'invasata di Fides Vita.
Abbiamo conosciuto una folle barbona per scelta.
Ricca di famiglia.
Questa ragazza gira con uno zaino zeppo di cibarie, coperte, ricambi, to fall asleep anywhere, when all the friends refuse to put in the car.
"Can I sleep in the car?" Is one of the frequent questions posed to her more, and not equipped car.
He told us of his latest venture, a trip to the bare feet of Km25, foil made to the Lord to make her lover come back with her.
Her beloved is a giant, an expert with the nunchaku, terrified by UFO abductions (in a shooting carried out by Camillus to his last film, made in a wheat field, our director was giving instructions to a UFO that seemed, then virtually added during assembly, the same kidnapping (while waving nunchaku) with its laser beam, he changed expression, has refused to pursue a solo adventure into the world of acting) and holder of various gadgets like water purifier that I mentioned a few lines above fifty.
have been together seven months and then dumped him because he could not stand it anymore.
Now she spies on him, follows him from a distance, he begins to sleep outside the door of his house barefoot marathons and plays to please the limitless power of our good God, that performs a spell that makes the return ufofobico muscular ninja Catholic in his arms.
do not mess with this, the policemen who wanted to stop a concert, she asked if you have the suitable decibelometro, after quarter of an hour they ran behind the steering wheel while she ran screaming insults.
Finished hear his litany of concerning the worship of practicing new age, we went to a small art gallery exhibiting the works of impeccable not remember the name, one that creates compositions of vegetables made in polyurethane, they put inside a plastic display case and sell them at € 22,500.00 (big ones), 10000.00 small ones.
Upon entering you immediately the feeling of suffocation, the tiny size of the room you want, you want the futility of the first work to leap in the field of view of this "unfortunately inclusive artist.
The stones of the master.
Before lunch we took a shot from outside the gallery, called this fact "The stones of the master."
I was the voiceover, extolling the virtues exist, while three Neapolitan builders looked at us askance, wondering exactly what time we sneaked in there to fuck 'to mercanzhiijia' s' or master.
Of all the shrines that struck me most was the one with the cauliflower.
were six.
One that looked like the all-seeing eye on this U.S. dollar bills (do not say "The eye of the Illuminati" or else then I go reading about conspiracies, become paranoid, I lose all my hair and come looking for me with the revolver because before you read that crap and peacefully coexisted with that of Nibiru reptilian Venusians with Venus .... more ash).
The show was a huge success for us all nine of the spectators.
There were the inevitable chips flavored with artificial cheese, the pizza-shaped shithouse gravitating to the highly cultured flies in the narrow room used as an art gallery world, and potato starch / clouds of dragon ill. There were
Crodino but they have boycotted them all (the art is always alcoholic) and there was Berlucchi.
It was to him that I devoted all my attention, after it emerged from the hypnotic trance generated by the pleasure of watching a salad from € 22,500 on the wall.
I made half a bottle of Berlucchi after I drank many liters of beer in a bar where I had gone to pee, let alone have escaped after the fidesvitiana, do not know how we reached the tunnel, laughing As ... a crazy ... is the case say.
Camillo has interviewed while I decided to do another interview.
In one corner (the whole room was a corner) was a desk, on which sat the daughter of the director of the gallery (I only found out after several minutes). At the heart of
work table (not to write "desktop" twice in a row, is not good) was a kind of ash used as a door candy.
I sat, I set the daughter of the director and I said: "We do one thing. Looking at the candy I was reminded of my childhood, when I went to the doctor and he pungicava syringe with the vaccine and then gave me sweets, do so. You're the doctor and ask me what it is that hurts me, so I would say that as in an interview, the opposite of what it is doing Camillo, "indicating his Camillo camera fitted.
I must have awakened in her trauma buried in some obscure black boxes on the edge of the psyche, nightmare of uncles tastes with special propensity to "play doctor?".
She made white in the face: "NO, THIS GAME DO NOT WANT IT."
I promptly replied: "It's not a game", then I made the connection and I was silent.
Which is better.
Towards closing time, nine of which were left of it in three, with empty-handed, to quote the poetry of the past maxpezzaliana.
The day ended in a sad bar where I made an examination of conscience, and I realized that I was not the need of analysis, but all the others died young in voids the brindanti not know / not c'è motivo di brindare/non si prospetta nessun futuro alcuno.
E fissando i fondi di caffè di questa umanità, portavo alla mia bocca amari bicchieri.
“Amari bicchieri” non era una metafora; al barista ho chiesto un cocktail a piacere e quello stronzo mi ci ha infilato il bitter.
Bashtardo.
Così, si conclude questo tour de force della domenica mattina.
Sono le 13:46. Sto inchiodato qua dalle 10:29 (lo so di preciso perché al cesso c'era l'orologio).
Ora mi tocca ricorreggere tutto.
Non sarà facile ma penso ne sia valsa la pena.
Scrivere della giornata di ieri mi ha fatto capire che la vita di ognuno di noi, se viene analizzata per quello che è, risulta talmente complicata e piena da farsi fare le pippe da una sceneggiatura del calibro di “Fuori orario” o “Ore 11:14 destino fatale”.
Siamo ciò che mangiamo.
Per questo siamo dei cilindri fecali viventi. 
filmstrips, METAFORINE SOCIAL, shit.
THE FUTURE AND 'THIS.
LOOK like you're SEEING THIS FILM A DOCUMENTARY ON RELIABLE NOSTRADAMUS. The mites
READY TO SAVE, SO 'TO PLAY WELL, YOU GET THE SCREEN YOU.
blaspheming God THINK ON HIM WHEN THE NOSE PIG.
HIM AND 'THE TRUE GOD, THERE, AND HAS 60 YEARS' a Nazi megalomania shit.
SOON THE LOVE, I love his name. RAY
KURTZVEIL.
For some peoples of the world perpetually at war with each other, Jesus is been the historical savior of humanity.
I wonder who saved them before his coming.
were sentenced to be condemned for lack of time available to the rescuers?. However
.
He did a lot of miracles, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, integrating the misfits.
It was everything and being able, having the power and the blessing of himself, he did what he did.
3 days, 3 nail ... and they NEU-TRA-ZA-TO-LIZ.
annihilated.
To prepare the dough in the oven for two people my mother claimed to 1000ml of sauce.
1 liter of sauce for two people.
1 kg of white sauce.
A pint of white sauce.
½ liters per head.
the historical Jesus was savior of mankind, and that was all he could, in his power, he has performed.
was neutralized by three nails.
They have even used a pound of nails.
weighed but I do not know what the legend is fleeting, religions are unlikely.
The fact remains that, on paper, and gastronomically speaking, my mother is the most pretentious of Jesus, and it passed.
Fa la pasta baked with ingredients in quantities greater than those used in the act of crucifixion.
... the class is not water.
... a ginocchio non è lo sternocleidomastideo.
Oggi mi divertirò parecchio, col mio cervello.
Per farlo, devo riportarlo (il cervello pesa niente) alla giornata di ieri, sabato l'abito.
Venere la cenere.
Giove le ove.
Mercole le nesopole.
Marte le scarpe.
Lune la fune che fine non avrà.
Va la Rosina bella al mercà'.
Trecentomilalire annue, spese durante i tre anni obbligatori, per gli obbligatori testi, per poter frequentare le obbligatorie scuole medie hanno portato a questo.
Ci impararono quella canzone.
Mentre la intonavamo, mi affascinavano gli ipotetici milleusi che avrei potuto do with the rope of moons.
The psychiatrist I clip the wings, so I stopped dreaming.
I converted to the religion that worships the Ritalin in a frozen night in late August.
Since yesterday was Saturday, there was a dick to do Camillo and I had already warned the day before the ash, to Jason Vhoories, we went to the luxurious conference center in San Cursed del Tronto, province of Ascoli olivafritta Piceno (AP).
Yes, the province "of" where live those ignorant ungrammatical enhanced by microscopic views of living in the Middle Ages, celebrating this lifestyle by the Quintana every fucking summer.
Office error is marked "sternocleidomastideo" that "demand."
Quintana no.
Softwareuncolo ignorant fascist. But
succumbs.
Despite his forties, Camillo has behaved correctly, warned that parents would be home in time for lunch.
The mother was eternally grateful to him, turning a page of the week puzzles, trying not to think her son alone in a world of destruction and drugs too expensive.
Entering the front door (usually enter the emergency exit to avoid paying) we cast into a world foreign to our particular way of conceiving life.
To use a metaphor of the singer Samuele Bersani euphemistic, "suck life from the corners, so she has no complaint of "harassment by suction abominable."
gigantic tapestry caressed the front desk, one with the large waiting room equipped with piano.
I would have liked to taste the poetry of this 'nice tool, but desistei, aware that in some art circles, the real one, and the various semantic fields adjoining, act solely for ornamental purposes, using them would be an insult against conformity wanted by' dullness conservative feature / characteristic hotels of a certain level to be scientifically correct (**** stars).
As if now I come to your house, I see a chair and ruin sedendomici.
But we are mad?
The voice of my friend set director was quick to accept us in all respects as two of the sector, secure and proud, as we climbed the stairs with no cure us of the response of the receptionist, whose voice echoes behind our backs aware, a vaguely remembered "the conference is on the second floor."
We knew.
The request was a pure formality for the return stroke of musically could not be toying with the object of hatred of each student shopen.
I write how the fuck I want, right?
... Oh well, I do not remember how to spell Chopin, 'MOUNT' n fig, so it is just a blog, we are network, ignorance has been accepted, forgiven, integrated, now also award-winning, as overflowing flooded, so hurry up and turn the mouse wheel, moves the page down the bottom, without fuss.
Ignorance is Strength.
the second ramp, struck by a deadly breath, I crossed (Jesus?) Eyes with an old lady of twenty years, over, inside the old, unconscious dead, alive by a miracle agreement concluded in the outdated with outdated laws DIY mortality.
Thanks to computers it has come to be able to negotiate with our destiny.
not you know?
Go to wikipedia, search for "How die without fouling too much. "
intrasensoriale Conspicuously marked by the experience, to tone down gloomy dell'infausta climb Camillo informs me that today, if you're nobody and you want to become a director, rather than the canonical 10% on your agent you are sucking the 40 trading feasible without .
You have to adapt as the orgies of gifted, even if you are visibly below the average of the health committee.
... You can still buy books Macro Edizioni affixed to regain self-esteem in a second, third time.
should only strong will and blind faith in personal coach Roy Martina.
1 Dvd 1000 hopes.
... and we have a lot of the above the messianic average of 3 nails, here is what "the human race has progressed further evolved."
arrived in front of the infernal conference room door (bitch, down the fucking radio, we understand that you've worked the last six years just to buy a stereo system in accordance with NASA, do not do it 'weighs on us, and What the fuck!) Camillo risfoderato the baritone voice of the galaxy by managers to persuade the fierce vigilance, atavistic walkie talkies equipped (even plurals Inglese them write it as I think).
To be a conference of editors was a very controlled.
Very safe. Two
boing747 the WTC, a plane wing of the Pentagon, fourth plane into the district of Somerset were unable to stop them.
we risk being stopped in its tracks.
Four buildings, ten bouncers and we are still above the average of the Lord.
See?
Over time, what has surprised us even lost value.
entering, assail us forcing us to subscribe. Now I think "Yeah I have to carve, to know me before I brought the guitar back, left-handed as a vocation, not by choice, unable to use tools of right-handed.
was the rhyme time in my life when I signed Rod Serling.
And before that day, the art gallery suffered The same evening I signed Rod for a second time, after noticing that all participants signed first by e-mail address (or myspace), then with your name, address style semi / not legible, type of doctor scribbles.
A degree in medicine is this: given the power to invent a doodle that's you, your name on paper is not recyclable.
the face of environmentalism.
As at school, good villains come up with pranks of juicy, we took place in front of the room, hung with paintings dubbissimissimo taste, non-existent value, tending to human low shot, but a nice fake acrylic triptych of the god Zeus intention to launch a ball (the world?) v ship, in that exact moment when the story took place right under the flying bed on which he epically Rising muscular, strongly points from the concept of realization / rationalization / implementation of existing human scale of the painting.
But he was (I speak as a deity in the past fallen into disuse, except when New Year is called by children and adolescents arsonists) a god.
could afford.
In the penultimate row, in front of my red glassy eyes of sleep, a paunchy rampant semi obese manager in his fifties. From time to time he turned, smiling, in an attempt to establish a relationship between the old guard and the venture new generations to educate and preserve, succeeding in similar results to those obtained with the will to pass a camel through the eye of genetically modified a needle without the aid of a nano assembler.
has not been sluggish indifference on the part of Camille or discourtesy on my part, my attention was traveling on the wavelength of the musical note, white cotton illusory imperfection formed by chance behind the jacket of this rampant prossimissimo death Explosion infarction, tie, automatically looking for youth attention.
A note without additional cutting.
The guy was a man who knows what he wants even when no one knows exactly what the menu has to offer. Had it not been for
elargitami innocent nudge from my fellow adventure I would have been staring at that patch of dry cleaning lint from wrong to try to understand the key (I had already mentally placed in a fruitful staff) .
not why I write books on music as Maurensig.
"You see that guy, those two files back?".
I did not understand.
intuitively sensed that he was referring to the kind of soggy hamburger human placed in the row saddest and least colorful of the entire room.
recurve on itself, as sacredly pledged to pour into the soul of itself, the homunculus peering fruits of years of wrong feeding, gazing, the prominent belly, appearing as the eyes of the careless ... a human hamburger.
is a hamburger, does not mean that the company forbade him to have a chance to make their way of life in the ruthless market. The guy was
("E '" if he did not die during the night), an anthropologist married to a petite Thai lady is not present in the room.
Years ago he went to Polynesia to study a Maori tribe remained at the dawn of industrialization dirty ipertechnopsycho in vogue on the planet.
He spent six months in the company of the people undergoing a multitude of "evidence of dignity, "so she could buy up the trust, the tribe's consent to be examined under a microscope.
Six months of fighting with wild beasts (hamburger fight with the tiger?), Countless voyages into the jungle wilderness (hamburger in the salad?), Exercise test (hamburger suffering?) And nothing, nothing, the Maori were not that feelings need to give him the luxury of vivisection.
Big Mac vivisection Maori tribes.
I can already see the headlines!
Discouraged, the anthropologist created in the laboratory to the Mc Donald (I'm not good at finding metaphors / similes appropriate to indicate in a stylistically acceptable hamburger five feet from me) was about to leave the island forever not remember the name when ...
A sign of the gods. A sign from the gods
The antropoburger was able to examine under a microscope, dissect meticulously the Maori tribe, his primitive habits, with the full consent of the tribal chief after a clear, unequivocal act manifesting the will of the lord of the Polynesians.
Sitting under a palm tree, the anthropologist felt his head explode when a coconut fell on the head.
was the signal by which the lord of the tattooed people gave its approvals so that the progress of malls invaded the laughing tribe Ounces Were Warriors more primitive than Jake "the fury".
A year of living with the Maori did not help to lose weight do, in fact, those who knew him first argues that the experience was a handsome, wiry Indiana Jones Noantri.
... they say the abundance is given to the racist people of the West ...
The speakers were a handful of representatives of the most prestigious Italian publishing houses. A
a handful of Maori meters from my nose dripping snot generated from the assumption of repeated derived from grasses (mucus are not bacteria, Pasteur is exceeded, mettetevelo in the head or the hard disk that you have implanted in the cerebral cortex ) were spokesmen for Minimum Fax, Mondadori, Einaudi, etc..
With a simple homemade bomb could put a stop publishing rubbish in Italy just at the moment there I thought I was doing the association Piano downstairs / Maori in front of me.
The Piano is a film to be reassessed.
Oh, I'll be the only one Alpha male in the world that he dreamed, he moved with Holly Hunter reciting the spastic mute melancholy attached to his piano, he lets her go down in the bottom of the ocean after being crippled by that asshole was Agent Smith in The Matrix, angry at you for extramarital relations between his wife and the fake Maori Bad Lieutenant Harvey Keitel once again that shows the bird (it will be proud of it) but I'm not ashamed.
think that Sara's house no more TV in the dining room (economic reasons) and instead of it, shines its lush cover of the VHS of this magnificent film.
instills a bit 'of peace to the turbulent behavior of life for parents of my girlfriend friend girl next door (one person can be all things to another person, you can, I think when I'm alone and I do not have to clean up the handkerchiefs breast dirty my children ever born).
The old, outdated items followed one another in loops in the bad acoustics of the room half empty, if after publishing market research publishers.
After five minutes I realized that if the publishing industry is in the hands of people like that, you might as well offer themselves as guinea pigs for experiments already underway on the installation of nano technology in humans.
This, plus a feeling of nausea lazy banality perpetrated by third parties.
No bucket to pour the food the previous day.
I resisted with great effort.
filth, vulgarity, cryptic ambiguity (spoke to a 1 byte per minute, arrived on a delayed three seconds without the hindrance of the microphone), carelessness, ignorance about the human condition.
I will not say anything about what I heard.
The result is that I understand how we perceive ruling class.
From home, with computers, they think they know / understand the world outside of their homes, and decide what to do, arch convinced they know what is best qualified to know and what is better left hidden in dusty corners of the collective.
55% OF THE ITALIAN never read.
's 11% read a book each month.
THE LAW OF 30% 2 books a year.
LIVES IN THE REMAINDER OF FACTORY WILLIE Wonka.
It was there that I examined the idea of \u200b\u200bgoing to the bathroom to masturbate (eject weakness) or visit the unattended hotel rooms (the convention center has 110 rooms, not even a ben abitata).
Succube figlio della MTV generation quale sono, ho optato per il passivo, perpetuo stato di quiete, non spostando il culo dalla sedia manco d'un pico millimetro.
Parlavano, parlavano, articolavano frasi senza senso, banalità dopo atrocità, il tempo s'era cristallizzato e, passata la fase contemplativa di tale fenomeno scientifico/spettacolo cronologico, ho assistito al processo di deterioramento e ammuffimento dell'orologio biologico del mio organismo arreso alle leggi naturali.
Intanto passavano la parola “a”...
Non fossero state le alte scarpe dal tacco 72 di una bionda brufolosa avrei abbandonato la sala gridando all'attentato bomba terroristi fate qualcosa inoffensivizzatevi bowls for the love of god denied drowned!
It takes little to keep me good.
One guy was tasting scene, me and the blonde team the circus stilts.
An unhealthy triad at the center of a room esoteric gear.
At the time of discharge, in the throes of emotion (brain) I have produced a spontaneous applause from the heart, sincerely for having given to my captors spared two hours of non-philosophical monologues on the concept of absolute nothingness in contrast to the cosmic void.
The center of the atom is empty, the reality is an illusion created by the brain / eyes that sent perceive as real and the rest of the body, which the records and agree as a tangible, solid, thanks to our software that would be the deoxyribonucleic acid ("DNA" if you look on facebook to ask the friend or if you just like this).
Such awareness, no more surprises, but I was appalled in the face of unquantifiable so empty, I felt like Silver Sufrer lost among millions of galaxies, stars stuck to the electric blanket in the universe.
Without even a distributor of coffee.
then why Silver Surfer was sick, his armor started to rot together the (zone one with it) and ceased to exist in this size, lying on a bed in the middle of his beloved Zenn-La.
escaped from the nerve center of power no self service we went to the Coop to quell the anxiety, frustration, dissatisfaction, with gargantuan binge.
The food has become the version of "natural" of psychiatric drugs.
take pills to smile. We hire for butter
serotonizzarci and benevolent cosmic tune frequencies so you can bear, always there if the system allows for 30 more years in a call center or in our office amatodiato.
Office?
unofficial thing?
I were / are you taking the piss?
Well continuate pure, tanto sarà ancora per poco.
Camillo ha optato per uno strategico bombardamento alle transaminasi, immettendosi nel piatto ben 644g (pesato da competente bilancia digitale) di olive ascolane fritte (“quintana”, “ignoranza”, “olive fritte”; dietro a tutto questo scorgo un complotto di proporzioni infinitejestiane, perché “bibliche” mi pare troppo piccolo, sopratutto ora che abbiamo appurato quanto mia madre, in termini di besciamella e non, riesca con nonchalance a battere i record del Signore), crocchette di patate e verdure fritte.
La parte riguardante una sana, coscienziosa pulizia della coscienza risiede nel contorno, cotto a vapore, peas and carrots in plastic.
This is also a theme that returns in the post, though always persevere in reading my cock, lovingly flat-spotted the eyes of thousands of lovers of really curious voyeuristic snuff movies socially acceptable.
Personally, I opted for a healthy dose (525g) of vegetables baked in Bergen Belsen, to balance the calories of protein a body devoted to massive consumption of alcohol at Eurospin (lower middle rasentante the ground).
chewing, I looked around me regenerating, reinterpreting the apathy of the others facing the 12,000-inch LCD screen that told what was happening in the world. A guy
wanted to flirt with me, I do not know what "flertare" so I made him understand that we could do together all you wanted as long that would take your pants get up in the meantime Camillo was justified by saying that at home eating "normal" for the , when it is to consume meals outside and from the family, is prone to excesses abound comforters fried.
I understand well. Use
fried as I use the triple malt.
got into the car, direct to my house to give me a way to expel the waste from the process of synthesizing food (I had to shit bad), we have enjoyed sound art technotronic good, old, loved Prodigy in this timeless masterpiece is "The fat of the land." From simple
not tolerate the drum &bass; the Prodigy are a separate book, Fat of the land it is the only formidable chapter in 52 min - 21 s (the one I have, the original, so hard, then I do not know you and I do not care).
arrived on the waterfront we enjoyed the delicious hide the sun, the enemy is not suitable for cyanotic, reptilian like us.
I reasoned to hibernate.
In this cauldron of fake palm trees and ill-fed sewage ENTAILING in our beautiful sea blue flag (that is, the water is blue Martinsicuro even when it is taken out of context maritime per riporla ad esempio in un bicchiere; chi ha detto che “l'acqua non ha colore, è trasparente e il mare è blu perché riflette il cielo”? Venite, ve lo dimostro. Ricordatevi le maschere anti contaminazione nucleare, altrimenti nisba, non voglio passare guai per voi) Camillo ha illuminato sulle scoperte di un personaggio ancora da inquadrare bene.
Avete presente Ozymandias di Watchmen?
Esiste.
Ha 60 ed è un perfetto stronzo.
È un dio reale.
Crea, distrugge, trasforma a suo piacimento.
Ray Kurzveil è un tipo vagamente somigliante a Enrico Ghezzi.
La differenza tra i due risiede nel contributo dato all'umanità.
The second makes her laugh and think.
The first restructuring the molding in molds. In summary
pills (and groceries, the shit you'll see feeds capsules as below).
Kurzveil Ray, a good fascist, reasons for twentysomethings.
Twenty years after twenty years.
The owners of Our Lives (Stephen Jobs, Bill Gates etc.. Etc.) Telefonatina him with when they are unsure what to do.
Ray is an expert in all, scientist and inventor.
with mathematical perfection can predict what will happen.
You know why?
No, not if it pulls you read all the books of David Icke, or because it feels bigger than Roy or Martin because he possesses all the "illegitimate children", paper and video, The Secret (and here I've finished all the clichés about the new pseudo FOUND Omniscient assets / buy online). He provides
WHY 'he creates.
You know those horrible cartoons of the sixties where there was a jerk who put a brick (or something) in a machine of metal that was crackling, skipping a few seconds, and then came BUM shoes, cars, televisions and articles similar?
The nano assembler is one of the things that Ray is working.
Thus, for example.
"predicted" that would have created a computer capable of defeating man chess.
Done.
Kasparow at home with their tails between their legs.
is testing on himself nano technologies sentient car.
You have cancer?
Just a shot. The nano
cells traveling alone, without "accompany" the human cancer where it is situated, if the locksmith and then deleting it, once finished the job, without even a letter of dismissal, are expelled from the body with a good crap.
Prostitute robot?
Today there are few and imperfect, reserved only for wealthy businessmen from life disaster, using that money, the scientists under the supervision of Ray endeavor to continue the search, until it can mass produce, at affordable prices, so that all of us we have one, as is the case with dogs and cats in Korea mechanical REAL always of his own invention, until the world will be populated (I think that this has "predicted" in 2020 and is not an asshole that wrong!) from humans and sentient machines with human feelings.
When we look at a person ask if it is an original or a fake.
FICTION?
I tell you mine.
From what I could ascertain, what we call "science fiction" "Fictional science" really is a science that, when it is assumed, discovery, is too complex to be understood, implemented, seem exaggerated, if not ridiculous.
because it is "fantastic science".
Sci-Fi.
Why is not called "Science can not," "Impossible Science. Take a
australopitecus afarenesis: Talk of Gutenberg's movable type or RFID chip implanted in humans.
will respond with a club, followed by a UH UH UH, translated from language to language ape-human means ...
FICTION.
Cazzo, stiamo qui a grattarci i peli delle ascelle scimmiesche, a stordire le femmine con clavate in testa, cercando di capire come scheggiare una pietra per ucciderci così per passare il tempo e tu non solo mi dici che i nostri pensieri possono essere messi per iscritto, prima con disegnini del cazzo, poi con grafemi, stampati in grandi quantità e divulgate al mondo talmente evoluto da doversi difendere da sé stesso assicurandosi pure il buco del culo, ma anche che dio non esiste?????
Be', per una domenica mattina nel pleistocene è un pochino ino troppo.
Dici fandonie.
Ora, se permetti, vado a vedere se mi è possibile creare un aratro.
... qualche passettino più in là, l'umanità è a questo livello, perciò non stupitevi di niente.
Dick, Gibson (no Mel, quello è un cristiano fascista di merda) Huxley, Matheson, Serling, non erano visionari dalla fervida geniale immaginazione che “ci hanno azzeccato”, ne le fonti d'ispirazione dei progettatori, costruttori di mondi e realtà.
Era gente che sapeva guardare avanti senza la tanto millantata VISIONARIETA' CLASSICA DEL CAZZATARO SCRITTORE DI FANTASCIENZA.
Così come Orwell.
Per il 2040, al massimo 2050 ognuno di noi avrà (altro che microchip; 'na pippa) un hard disk nel cervello e, come in Johnny Mnemonic del già citato Gibson saremmo delle USB flash drives fucking street.
All this, as usual, with our full blessing.
assume. When we
sentient androids, most of us humans (in Korea has fired a lot of English teachers and in their place we have put robots ... you know why? Because the robots were more patients!) Imagine the technology we have at home.
Right now, with various detergents and cocks in the house that you can make several bombs and napalm.
You can become a skilled McGyver.
In the future, imagine only (and only science fiction, as when they speak and precisely ascertained that the earth was flat, at the time believed this blindly, who said the opposite was fucking back and forth without joy, if not forever), there is much technology, high quality QUALITY 'it will be. A common frustration fifteen
could make life a constant joke to say a few thousand people.
PANIC: ALL would commit a genocide with a pin hair !!!!!!!!!!!!!
global nuclear alert, ALARM HUMAN crazy. We
us to let us drill the skull to take some type contraption that crap of water purifiers that are installed in the home fans to purify the new age of ultra-fluoridated tap water, for our security, AS USUAL.
That has to do with security?
As we begin to produce anti-social thoughts and bad, that is the famous "Psycho offense" in babbling Orwell in 1984 (so much science fiction as the medieval playstation3 on a pyre), we like to watch the "Precog" Minority Report, shit where the note that says "guilty" and we will be executed without trial (if one thinks evil once more and can do it!), for the good of humanity FREE for any worries, which will no longer need to work in As the machines will be able to work auto program e. ..
No, go ahead, I already have dilungato oltre misura, devo continuare il racconto del sabato folle.
Ricordatevi che è tutta fantascienza, sono tutte stronzate ed è impossibile perché...
Perché lo dite voi e perché lo dico io.
Perché ci fa comodo.
Perciò guardate tutti gli elettrodomestici INUTILI che avete attorno (un frullatore serve alla razza umana come la razza umana serve alla madre terra), ridete di loro, in quanto GIA' SORPASSATI, e ridete di quei patetici operaietti degli anni '50 che avevano un solo televisore in bianco e nero ogni dieci famiglie.
Negli anni '40 era fantascienza che gli umani creassero una luminosa scatola parlante in grado di trasmettere immagini a distanza.
C'era to fight the war and nothing else.
In the 50s it was fiction that each family had a TV in the house, was to think of the post war reconstruction, which èèèèèèè meeeeegilo, as would private.
Go to the Leonardo da Vinci and say: "You who do so much capiscione, you know the Smurfs? Be ', then' fuck you and your newfangled, bum da best seller by Dan Brown / Gerry Scotti (if you look at the photo you see that Dan is with Jerri Tera 2 pounds of fat in less ... and as he would say, " May God bless you ").
We went and took Sarah on galloping notes of Johnny Cash and his amazing greatest hits purchased for the modest sum of diecimila lire, quand'era fantascienza possedere una macchina luminosa a intermittenza che ti fa avere gratis tutta la musica desiderata in pochi minuti.
Camillo ci ha deliziato con la narrazione del suo ultimo lavoro su commissione.
Camillo è un regista di film e del resto.
Alla porta di casa, gli si è presentata la madre superiora di un arcaico convento.
“Mi manda il fotografo”.
Camillo ha subito pensato a un complotto oftalmo/clericale (gioco di parole scemo tra il fotografo e la casta dei man in balck pedofili di clausura) ma poi s'è rincuorato quando la madre superiora gli ha consegnato le fotocopie di tre passaporti di suore filippine, cosicché avesse potuto add their names spelled correctly in the menus of the DVD, on which played an hour of high mass to celebrate the hiring of three sisters, in fact, the Philippines.
Today as you take on today only in church.
The disadvantage is another.
If you resign (or speak) will make your ass.
It is not nice.
While in church, the people is moved by HOLINESS 'of the occasion, who were seen in 46 years that his country was not celebrated a rite of that thickness, so as to have a bother cardinalvescovocamerlengo wearer of a hat twice as greater than those which usually begins Jamiroquai, possessor of a golden throne bishop of the size of a new Panda model, Camillo was dedicated to invigorating activity of double recovery, SHOOT DOUBLE (not pornographic sense), having understood the true magnitude of the event humorous, having decided to have his recovery personnel to view and review joyfully lively in the privacy of her bedroom , away from watchful eyes warner to make fun of medieval bullshit that Catholics are still doing today, now that we are on the threshold of a pan technologizing the human being, not to say the Die Mensch Maschine Kraftwerk crautosi.
The development consisted of a long litany in which all were cited, one by one (but not in order of influence, importance, power exercised) and say to all the saints in the calendar, a day, 365 (366 if leap year), more martyrs, holy apostles and so on and so forth away because my stomach full of bile.
The three sisters of the Philippines, spread on the floor, offered their chastity to the Lord.
The contract was not specified "which" give the man hole in the grim universe of confining chastity, to be used for and what use / purpose hobbies and leisure (the clergy's right to recreation, otherwise then they take it with the children; Oh yeah, I remember before I forget, in the future society will (already do not remember which country) of the children to vent mechanical pedophiles, thinking that they have LA TESTA INTERCAMBIABILE, COSI' LO STUPRA CULETTI AVRA' L'ILLUSIONE DI VARIARE L'OGGETTO DEI PROPRI ABUSI, altro che quella puttana di megan gale che sostiene che il mondo è intorno a te, col cazzo).
L'effeminato trentenne prete vecchio dentro, con fare effeminato tendente all'omosessuale a 367,45° cantava da cappone castrato ricordando l'ormai dimenticato primo cantante dei Dream Theatre, quand'ancora si facevano chiamare Majestic e scassavano le palle il triplo di adesso (anzi, fino a poco fa, Portnoy se n'è andato perché nelle sue ville non aveva più spazio per nascondere il soldi che non riusciva a far entrare nelle strabordanti banche svizzere), alzando l'indice auditel di commozione generale tanto the idea that makes you a veteran nun sailed to extract from his bag a small hand-held camera to perpetuate the fleeting moment.
Here we enter the territory of the destination movie.
Camillo was recovering the nun director.
The nun's arm cast in a grotesque tzukamotesca craetura telecamerizzata turned, doing a masterful overview of the hall full of returnable bottles dripping from his eyes minerals for Christ, with Christ, Christ and we are three, plus the driver, the motor Mystical (needless to go to Naples four on a scooter, which serves as a divine power?) so long as it is over the physical space available and she has been seen trapped in the objective Camillo, a nun who was focused on decoding the picture of Camille with his camera, which turned goal tetsuoesca kinetic movements of the chaste bride of Christ, to resume a fixed camera Camillo fixed on her.
The revised his movies, could establish that depend quell'automa fides life was for 40 seconds, with the expression of an android face demagnetized printed in Camillus to resume taking it.
It was brave, my faithful companion of raids, did not lower his eyes (the camera) even before the power omni (IM) powerful (non) person, let alone in front of his wicked emissary.
Jungian free association: I say "emissary" I say "den of tigers."
's what brings in prepubertal couch potatoes.
Had I known ...
stunned the car in a parking lot of luck, since it's Saturday and all the good sheep they went to the course (our goal) to make the tanks back and forth, alternating the daily routine of visiting / shopping centers.
mall Monday. Tuesday
course. Wednesday
mall.
course
Thursday Friday Saturday
mall full.
The creative flair of modern man !!!!!!!
Ci ri rechiamo di fronte al palacongressi per visitare i molteplici stand sotto cui vari autori tentano di vendere i propri cartacei figli, i loro preziosi romanzi, le loro immortali raccolte di poesie.
15€ un libro di 50 pagine di un autore sconosciuto e quel figlio di troia di editoruncolo si lamentava che non legge più nessuno.
Perché lo fai, disperata ragazza mia?
Costa meno dell'ultimo di Pynchon.
E poi, perché ti ho conosciuto.
Detto questo debbo dire dell'invasata di Fides Vita.
Abbiamo conosciuto una folle barbona per scelta.
Ricca di famiglia.
Questa ragazza gira con uno zaino zeppo di cibarie, coperte, ricambi, to fall asleep anywhere, when all the friends refuse to put in the car.
"Can I sleep in the car?" Is one of the frequent questions posed to her more, and not equipped car.
He told us of his latest venture, a trip to the bare feet of Km25, foil made to the Lord to make her lover come back with her.
Her beloved is a giant, an expert with the nunchaku, terrified by UFO abductions (in a shooting carried out by Camillus to his last film, made in a wheat field, our director was giving instructions to a UFO that seemed, then virtually added during assembly, the same kidnapping (while waving nunchaku) with its laser beam, he changed expression, has refused to pursue a solo adventure into the world of acting) and holder of various gadgets like water purifier that I mentioned a few lines above fifty.
have been together seven months and then dumped him because he could not stand it anymore.
Now she spies on him, follows him from a distance, he begins to sleep outside the door of his house barefoot marathons and plays to please the limitless power of our good God, that performs a spell that makes the return ufofobico muscular ninja Catholic in his arms.
do not mess with this, the policemen who wanted to stop a concert, she asked if you have the suitable decibelometro, after quarter of an hour they ran behind the steering wheel while she ran screaming insults.
Finished hear his litany of concerning the worship of practicing new age, we went to a small art gallery exhibiting the works of impeccable not remember the name, one that creates compositions of vegetables made in polyurethane, they put inside a plastic display case and sell them at € 22,500.00 (big ones), 10000.00 small ones.
Upon entering you immediately the feeling of suffocation, the tiny size of the room you want, you want the futility of the first work to leap in the field of view of this "unfortunately inclusive artist.
The stones of the master.
Before lunch we took a shot from outside the gallery, called this fact "The stones of the master."
I was the voiceover, extolling the virtues exist, while three Neapolitan builders looked at us askance, wondering exactly what time we sneaked in there to fuck 'to mercanzhiijia' s' or master.
Of all the shrines that struck me most was the one with the cauliflower.
were six.
One that looked like the all-seeing eye on this U.S. dollar bills (do not say "The eye of the Illuminati" or else then I go reading about conspiracies, become paranoid, I lose all my hair and come looking for me with the revolver because before you read that crap and peacefully coexisted with that of Nibiru reptilian Venusians with Venus .... more ash).
The show was a huge success for us all nine of the spectators.
There were the inevitable chips flavored with artificial cheese, the pizza-shaped shithouse gravitating to the highly cultured flies in the narrow room used as an art gallery world, and potato starch / clouds of dragon ill. There were
Crodino but they have boycotted them all (the art is always alcoholic) and there was Berlucchi.
It was to him that I devoted all my attention, after it emerged from the hypnotic trance generated by the pleasure of watching a salad from € 22,500 on the wall.
I made half a bottle of Berlucchi after I drank many liters of beer in a bar where I had gone to pee, let alone have escaped after the fidesvitiana, do not know how we reached the tunnel, laughing As ... a crazy ... is the case say.
Camillo has interviewed while I decided to do another interview.
In one corner (the whole room was a corner) was a desk, on which sat the daughter of the director of the gallery (I only found out after several minutes). At the heart of
work table (not to write "desktop" twice in a row, is not good) was a kind of ash used as a door candy.
I sat, I set the daughter of the director and I said: "We do one thing. Looking at the candy I was reminded of my childhood, when I went to the doctor and he pungicava syringe with the vaccine and then gave me sweets, do so. You're the doctor and ask me what it is that hurts me, so I would say that as in an interview, the opposite of what it is doing Camillo, "indicating his Camillo camera fitted.
I must have awakened in her trauma buried in some obscure black boxes on the edge of the psyche, nightmare of uncles tastes with special propensity to "play doctor?".
She made white in the face: "NO, THIS GAME DO NOT WANT IT."
I promptly replied: "It's not a game", then I made the connection and I was silent.
Which is better.
Towards closing time, nine of which were left of it in three, with empty-handed, to quote the poetry of the past maxpezzaliana.
The day ended in a sad bar where I made an examination of conscience, and I realized that I was not the need of analysis, but all the others died young in voids the brindanti not know / not c'è motivo di brindare/non si prospetta nessun futuro alcuno.
E fissando i fondi di caffè di questa umanità, portavo alla mia bocca amari bicchieri.
“Amari bicchieri” non era una metafora; al barista ho chiesto un cocktail a piacere e quello stronzo mi ci ha infilato il bitter.
Bashtardo.
Così, si conclude questo tour de force della domenica mattina.
Sono le 13:46. Sto inchiodato qua dalle 10:29 (lo so di preciso perché al cesso c'era l'orologio).
Ora mi tocca ricorreggere tutto.
Non sarà facile ma penso ne sia valsa la pena.
Scrivere della giornata di ieri mi ha fatto capire che la vita di ognuno di noi, se viene analizzata per quello che è, risulta talmente complicata e piena da farsi fare le pippe da una sceneggiatura del calibro di “Fuori orario” o “Ore 11:14 destino fatale”.
Siamo ciò che mangiamo.
Per questo siamo dei cilindri fecali viventi.
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