Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
How To Tighten Electrical Outlets
The final countdown
Just over a year, the Cabinet entered into a countdown of twenty posts, after which this place, and with it a server, so self-destruct and not fade again be seen again. That was the theory. But, as you might guess, their assumptions proved false.
why I put the costume McGyver, I cut the red (or green, I do not remember) and when just missing a few seconds, I turned off the countdown. And while platelets walled tissues are rebuilt, gathering strength for the opening of the new Cabinet , probably in new accommodation, certainly with new design. Pronto. Very soon. Stay tuned.
wiser, say some. Bitter, say others. It is time to return. 
Just over a year, the Cabinet entered into a countdown of twenty posts, after which this place, and with it a server, so self-destruct and not fade again be seen again. That was the theory. But, as you might guess, their assumptions proved false. why I put the costume McGyver, I cut the red (or green, I do not remember) and when just missing a few seconds, I turned off the countdown. And while platelets walled tissues are rebuilt, gathering strength for the opening of the new Cabinet , probably in new accommodation, certainly with new design. Pronto. Very soon. Stay tuned.
wiser, say some. Bitter, say others. It is time to return.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Cake Boss's' Fondant Icing
The three letters of his name
Since the end, just two weeks have passed. He has spent those days to gather patiently to gather under a serene and severe pain, fragments, parts, files, photos and more photos, songs, non-public assemblies, the private photoshop. And with the talks, the words constant, daily messages, that constitutes their entire history, theirs, one that waits to be closed, hidden landscape that even direct contemplation of which damaged him.
At other times in the past, the process would have been to capture a large box. In filling of shells, pebbles, cassettes, letters and more letters, a lock, drawings, some negative. But in this century, those hundreds of megabyte s in a virtual folder, is the sole and complete evidence, the silent witness that they had managed to overcome two formidable distances, they shared a range and a space, all what had actually happened.
For while, Wendy Kroy swiftly away in a car.
It remains to open the drive, the tray. Pour in plastic that a load is not heavy. Zeros and ones. Wait a few minutes, then guard it for life. While deciding what color to award. Not black, definitely no blue (she hated it), or consider the target. Is the orange? Perhaps the red ... Not convinced, are not appropriate. Too conventional. The recorder continues in the meantime with their rhythmic sighs. And the emotional Russian roulette random, capricious, shoot " Rocket Man" at close range, a song before, when Elton John was cool, and they framed their first meetings. Then I understood. Fuchsia. Intense, extreme, beyond the rose; exceptional and mesmeric, but which is harmful to be exposed for long periods of time.
So, having decided, place a sheet and prints a flat front panel. Unit CD stops its stupid rumble and sticks out her tongue. Carefully setting each part in place. And she taught him not to believe in coincidences, not surprised to recognize in the final result of the identical twin Loveless. How appropriate. Smile, and the calligraphy pen on the disc about the same interpreter, replacing the need for the almost identical three letters of your name.
Only then, he feels ready to put it all in his modest rack.
And among all the other colors, that shines, harmful and radiant.
And I think it's gonna be a long long time Till touch
down Brings me round again to find
I'm not the man They think I am
Rocket Man, Elton John
down Brings me round again to find
I'm not the man They think I am
Rocket Man, Elton John
Since the end, just two weeks have passed. He has spent those days to gather patiently to gather under a serene and severe pain, fragments, parts, files, photos and more photos, songs, non-public assemblies, the private photoshop. And with the talks, the words constant, daily messages, that constitutes their entire history, theirs, one that waits to be closed, hidden landscape that even direct contemplation of which damaged him. At other times in the past, the process would have been to capture a large box. In filling of shells, pebbles, cassettes, letters and more letters, a lock, drawings, some negative. But in this century, those hundreds of megabyte s in a virtual folder, is the sole and complete evidence, the silent witness that they had managed to overcome two formidable distances, they shared a range and a space, all what had actually happened.
For while, Wendy Kroy swiftly away in a car.
It remains to open the drive, the tray. Pour in plastic that a load is not heavy. Zeros and ones. Wait a few minutes, then guard it for life. While deciding what color to award. Not black, definitely no blue (she hated it), or consider the target. Is the orange? Perhaps the red ... Not convinced, are not appropriate. Too conventional. The recorder continues in the meantime with their rhythmic sighs. And the emotional Russian roulette random, capricious, shoot " Rocket Man" at close range, a song before, when Elton John was cool, and they framed their first meetings. Then I understood. Fuchsia. Intense, extreme, beyond the rose; exceptional and mesmeric, but which is harmful to be exposed for long periods of time.
So, having decided, place a sheet and prints a flat front panel. Unit CD stops its stupid rumble and sticks out her tongue. Carefully setting each part in place. And she taught him not to believe in coincidences, not surprised to recognize in the final result of the identical twin Loveless. How appropriate. Smile, and the calligraphy pen on the disc about the same interpreter, replacing the need for the almost identical three letters of your name.
Only then, he feels ready to put it all in his modest rack.
And among all the other colors, that shines, harmful and radiant.
Friday, March 2, 2007
How To Stream Big Bang Theory Sbs
On behalf of the non-dead princess
I return a few days ago a mini-vacation there in the Motherland away from the Cold Foreign where the melting is already being felt. At my arrival, yet you went all shaken, cynicism or indifference ration up or down, with the death of non-princess, sister artist, of the unknown. My first few hours immersed in this spring that no longer leaves, they saw the eternal return of a funeral cathode black on black, umbrellas, speculation, and gestures.
I came warned. Eager to brawl. Wanting to say that, like that, suicides (oops!) There are hundreds. That the proclamation against the ladies show is permanent seat on the patio. And sitting there in front of Our Lord El Tomate, they begin to parade pictures that I, in my exile, I have not seen: A beautifully angled face, a lock that covers like a starlette 40; fine lines, nervous hands, well-clustered bones.
- The truth is that was ugly Pici that - suddenly said Father Zito.
No, do not let you say that. Do not ever touch the remote. Let me contemplate a minute. Observe how your child walks to school, spy while almost posthumous hugs her boyfriend, guessing his sadness over the horrible tedium ceremonies. Let me make it my Laura . Let me keep looking at the painting. Is it dead or not? Perhaps, if I continue looking, if I continue fascinated by her apparent wounds, if I repeat again and again the same gestures, I can change the angles, return to the past and, as I could not do with Marilyn , grab his wrist at the time of season apathy that half empty bottle in his hand. Do not get lost in the silence. Not having the glass. Let me understand, to persuade her, hold her down there, where now only find despair. Let me save. Let me make it mine.
PD: I guess you already know. He's back. This time, moron and Nude , but has returned. Not like me.
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