Side Mount Scope For Marlin Model 80

[the misogynist] - A sock monkey filled with Xanax, pt. 4 / 4

Ok, the veil of Maya is torn, ripping through the true nature of the heavy commitments that have occupied the last hours of my host becomes manifest.
Many, facing a similar epiphany, remain banned. Not me, that I have imaginary friends who give me good advice before the ethical problems of this magnitude. So he mustered Seth Putnam and Fabio Fazio and ask their advice. Seth always knows what to do: I suggest that scream suck cock! At least scrape off the shit from the toilet before going out, ugly fool, I've also been waiting for hours to see your dirty shit, and then go away and slammed the door as she bursts into tears. Then go back inside, beaten, raped and beat her again. Fazio instead proposes to tone down the rhetoric, the bottom is not a tragedy, it does happen, it's best to ignore it and get back in there after having just washed her face.
Well thanks for the advice of dick consciousness. Seth says the right, but if my libido at this time could be drawn on this aspect would . It would make little sense without rape. Fazio not to give due consideration to the pain of my bladder. Mica I piss the shit and leave it there if nothing had happened, I mean the real mica are Fazio. Having to find a compromise, I decided to aim the pee right on the runway assholes who makes a fine show of himself on the ceramics, to give him a rugged rough. But that sort of relief seems to have the same consistency of the pediment of the Parthenon, my pride does not seem to even scratch jet. I have to crank it up with mop and elbow grease.
Funny how vile my mind, unparalleled in the art of finding excuses to take off my ass when I ask a favor urgent, hang in situations that require the help of just a stupid excuse, like I have just called there my uncle in the hospital. Instead here I am scraping my scagazza not in the name of a quiet life. How funny life!
I go out there with an expressionless face and friendly that I believe in truth be very alarmed because The Mad asks me immediately want something to eat, to drink? I repeat that no, I do not want anything (even more so now), so she, very thoughtful, to make sure he asks a third time. I say no for the third time, and you sure?, Fucking YES, I'm sure, just the thought of food makes me gag.
While we sit roughly in the middle of the empty room, I hear the audience screaming NO! What do you idiot, run!, But do not listen to them, so we start talking about metaphysics, aliens and pranotherapy, in any order. I had prepared on going over the texts of Nietzsche Marilyn Manson but never mind, I try to move the discussion on a field most congenial to me, ie the ratio of Xenu and the continuity of the Marvel universe. It is an hour of intense exchanges, who see me ruleggiare and make a show of my innate talents fuffologo technicalities with high academy that intoxicate my interlocutor. But now a prisoner of Hydra turns, I lose sight of my primary goal: to escape quickly. I went too much into the character and my mind is weak.
And now begins to talk about himself, and we move on the couch. Sai Baba says, I'm going to a psychiatrist for seven years, ah say, really?, What funny!, Haha yeah, and I am also taking medicines that calms me, I attempted suicide several times in the past, but now I think I'm reaching a balance, but oh well, it's a beautiful thing, is certainly good for your health to throw a dead weight in pounds of spiritualism seasoned with oriental crap, if you take away from suicide. Do you agree more, adding that this malaise was taking on the road to perdition, led an immoral life and felt dirty, and I apologize but amoral guy like?, Eh guy who was fucking with everyone, with the first one that happened to me, sometimes two at a time, and do not take precautions of any kind, I drank and I undressed in public and stuff, but now I decided to give us a cut, enough sex, enough, enough and still enough. Want something to eat, to drink?

A curious bug prevents me from putting in order of importance, the baffling things I've just heard, then, except to say no thanks I do not want no shit and dribble with nonchalance Topics psychiatry, suicide and venereal diseases, I focus on the last thing I heard, but as I say, no more sex?

She takes on the expression of ravenous tiger, typical of certain circles of forty female worshipers of the sacred heart that so are all the rage in my town, and I said no, it hurts my mental and physical balance. Pronounce this sentence caressing my balls with his right foot and waving his left leg, while his hands linger on his groin roughly massaging. Here is something that comes back, tells me that my insight, from the back of my head, hastily browse a compendium of body language attachment to focus the month before. I still I harden in doubt . After a while
'silences full of promises, it retracts upset, as if he had driven out the demons that possessed her. And I have!? She tells me here, I must say, I am passionate about dance!, I say yes, well, I think something very normal, in fact I like the dancers eh, and she no no no no do not understand! I was diagnosed with a terrible illness, a latent state but may take a moment!, Oh God you are already a kind of summary of the first two series of dr. House, what else is there now?, And she, on the verge of tears THE MUSCULAR DYSTROPHY! What the fuck, I think, now submerged to the neck in this booklet Cannibal Corpse living, and I thought who knows!
but I remain thrilled and say Come on, it's not that, then you always have hope ! You tell me, I love dancing so much!, Ah say, why do not you show me something, so at least we complete the psychedelic delirium?
So get up and start belly dancing without music. I do not have the theoretical tools to judge, but I think oh, be spread the vulva in the face is always a nice thing, especially after seeing what had forgotten to come out just the same ass dancing circles in front of me. So I harden without restraint, with renewed vigor. It happens that La Pazza mi casca proprio addosso, sul divano, si ridacchia e ci troviamo faccia a faccia.

Il finale parrebbe abbastanza scontato a questo punto.
Ma.
NO!, sbotta lei, DEVO ESSERE COERENTE !, e mi allontana in modo brusco. Ci ritroviamo ai due lati estremi del divano, e io mi risveglio sconvolto nel mondo reale, lo stesso mondo nel quale avevo raschiato via della merda prodotta da quell’essere immondo. Che diavolo era successo? Mi alzo in piedi di scatto, guardandomi attorno sbigottito. Guardo l’orologio, cazzo è l’una, io mi sa che devo andare proprio, è molto tardi, ci sentiamo un’altra volta (sissì, col cazzo però) eh? Ciao ciao, NO, aspetta!, she says, grabbing my stuff while I recover. What is it now?, And you please do not hate me, try to understand me, you're a special guy, I regret having done so, I'm very confused, I do not know what to think, but no but no, I say, do not hate you Come on, now I am going eh, WAIT, she says, at least I can hold you? And that's why I jump on me, hold me shaking my head and sinks into my flesh, where I feel the vibrations of his sobs. I think Jesus, this creature suffering should be torn down, and while I am about to deal a telling blow on the neck cutting with your hand, I see a light come on from behind the only other door of the house, as well as the bathroom. Sorry The Mad, I say alarmed, but who is behind that door?, and she ah there is a room where my mother's sewing things, irons, but do not expect your mother then came back is back there now or from when?, ah well there Throughout the evening, is there with my father, there is a tv ... but hey, where are you running? Do not hate me, please!

Tear in the night without looking back, surrounded by explosions and screams. Across the country in flames pointing in a southerly direction towards my car. I see the flash from a distance and open up to welcome me, I jumped in dodging the walls of buildings and sketches of broken asphalt, I turn on the engine, the machine asks me what happened to you man?, and I'll explain another time Panda, now take me out of here, quick!
I turn on the stereo, part European Son and I are gone and the Panda in the thick mist of the countryside, while the country with a horrible gurgling sound is swallowed up in hell.

Block Wall Foundation Requirements

[the angle of the misogynist] - I'll be heavy. (Pt. 3 of 4)

spent days, weeks, actually a whole year and then some. In the middle, a pile of stuff. Not one but two ghosts of reconciliation with the girl, both finished in a dingy. The second time he had done his hair like Dolph Lundgren, and I, but why?, And she wanted to try as I stood, no you are fine but eh, really, it makes you very androgynous, ah thanks. For her it was a great compliment. Only that I do the androgynous just sucks the dick, Judah pig, had already icy marble, now the only thing missing was the shit and we could play pool together. So did not last long. Besides, she was making fast and loose with a dwarf bald, older than you and me for several years, and schizophrenic cocaine dependent end-stage and in the end he chose me.
I stepped aside, objectively it was a beautiful couple.
Then there were not one but two great love stories. Two experiences are very important, suffering, who have taught me a lot. But with two aspirin and a good sweat my experience has passed away. And so, oblivious and trusting, I went back in touch with madness.
Or rather, she called to give me his msn. We had heard before, but much faster. Anyway, let's talk for a while, 'I do not even remember how the fuck I was done, show me a photo shoot of her in costume and I think apper, nice tits! So they decided to meet. On the night of
got into the car and go to Cagliari, with a little 'in advance. I call and say hey, I'm in town, when you come down?, And she looks, I'm sorry a mess, I have problems and I can not go, I think shit, a parcel, that sucks, and I say okay, by no nothing, it will be for another time, (you die screaming) nonononono and she figured that we come to my house and we eat a pizza and I just you repeat yourself and me. Ah.
AH!, I say, thinking to be done on the set of American Pie, FANTASTIC, AT THAT TIME STEP ', by passing in a couple of hours, which handles a matter, you do not mind it?, Grandparents' NEVER A TIME BETWEEN TWO HOURS EH? A big kiss!
And go, nasty cow, a tétatèt a ràndeview. But now that I have time left over and the country where you live is lontanuccio, so I think I'm using time to meet my dear friend who lives nearby to tell him this thing, so I write Dear Friend hey how about a beer that you are near?, he no thanks, I do not want to see anyone, I'm not in the mood, I uh, fuck I'm sorry, you have trouble?, I did not want to talk about, sorry, ah ok, I do, if you want to chat tell me oh, yeah yeah, okay, hello. Poor guy I thought, who knows storiacce. Dear Friend in truth that I hated, but still did not know. However
. You must know that her country is famous in the area as a den of fools. But not violent madmen, psychopaths and murderers, but as good-natured wags, combining colors that color the case questionable, such as purple and orange, Prussian blue and pea green, things like that. Viewed from outside the village seems to be the chocolate factory of Willy Wonka and the people smiling like giddy. In short, a great country to get two husks.
leave you car out of the country and I do a lap at random, saw that madness will be late, very late. In a bar / games room are involved in a speech from a customer and the bartender. Then, near a park of thirteen I make a pass. Of old men sitting on old benches while I positively reviewed their next step. Yes, it is a country lolloso. At one point she writes that it is at home waiting for me, then ask for information at this guy makes me ah I lived close by, I'll give you a ride, get in the car! Wow, just friendly. Then I am sorry I have to stop at an ATM to withdraw money, it takes me a second. I remain incredulous, these people are full of confidence in the next, I leave the machine on (!) while going to pick up a bunch of notes from 100 euros in cash (!!!), then returns as if nothing had happened. I'm too strong country.

Arrival at the house of madness. The house is open and fully enlightened, but I see no bell. I try for several minutes and just do not find it, so later all.
I step into the driveway and I see the door wide open and her against the light, as if she had been all the time behind the door ajar to wait for the sound of my footsteps. Hmm, strange.
I go. Hello, I found open, hehe, no but I figured I left open on purpose, by entering!
I see that pussy is not like the pictures, however, her tits are nice, but is well known that hump, and the neck a bit 'short maybe. A bit 'strange here. I bend over to give her a kiss. The eyes are wide open and if possible even more fixed the first time I saw her, looking glass and I truly disturbing. But who cares.
Just before I feel very confused: well known that there are no doors in the house, only strings, and the environment is half-empty, things seem to be stuck on the walls to make room, but you do not understand a thing: What the fuck is a dance hall?
it now asks me for the first of a series of times you want something to drink, to eat?

I say no, I was around for a bit 'and I had beer in the body, so I ask you to use the bathroom, I'd just need a fucking.
Thank God at least have one bathroom door, but what the hell is this tattered's home?
I open and, with the power of a ton of bricks on the head, the unmistakable, heavy stench of fresh shit I invest in full. Gh, not exactly the best way to start a meeting gallant, but then neither is now asking me to enter a piss. However, I think, boys embarrassing situation, we pretend to nothing, and so he came to
(!!!)

WATER!

but this is a fucking shit black scoured a certain extent and consistency of Nutella!

(SUSPENSE!) The

Denise Milani Nipples

[The angle of the misogynist] Part 2: sensitivity and common sense

we see now, insanity. Not so much for the look, it's a normal girl after all, but as for looks. Always keeps his eyes open, staring. I do not remember seeing him wink once, now that I think. And why talk all the time, a mixture of Ayurvedic medicine, psychic powers and Sigmund Freud. A mix that attracts attention, no doubt, and I at the time I need to believe in the paranormal. I mean, you STATEC with one that pulls back when you offer to lick her pussy ground as an excuse the ghosts, in the end even if you are of sound mind a little 'we want to believe you too, because it is not possible that you are together with a real mentally ill, a bit 'like those who say oh I've been abducted by aliens as a child because that is how their brain elaborates an event like the dad that they sodomized. In short, the strange things that happen in life we must give an explanation, although this is not exactly logical. I want to believe. However, for an extension but thought no, not that there was a madman, the girls are all a bit 'so, and then you end up feeling attraction for tattered as they are to that. I Want To Believe II. And so I ended up with the crazy talk monopolizing the attention and the fixity of the vacant look. We stayed there for a couple of hours talking about thousands and thousands of crap and I was a prostate cancer if I can remember one. Eventually she asks me the number. Well, this is an interesting thing, it requires an explanation.
In all my twenty years of experience on the planet Earth I have seen a very strange thing: every time I did the sex, or nearly so, or was the idea of it but then nothing, well all these times to ask me the phone number They were computerized or other contacts. Always. No this is not true, but admit it would undermine the validity of the argument I am about to explain, try to follow while building a general rule, starting from experimental data loaded. I said, these people have turned out regularly (this figure test is not rigged) of people strongly disturbed, with difficult family relationships, victims of abuse at the turn of childhood and adolescence, orphaned, rich, poor or very poor, children of divorced, only child of divorced, haha but we think? All the dregs and misfits of the world showered upon me, all these people with very serious problems I was knocking on the door convinced that I would have solved my kindness and my sweet eyes, even one had come to tell me that I looked like a comic-book hero, and now I'm here to laugh at their misfortunes, ahaha when I think I am, oh well. We fly over. The Mad
you take my number and I leave satisfied with the CEPU, and my friend makes me eheh, achievements have made, and I and yes!, all proud to have made a splash. Look at me that this mica is all right with the brain eh, and I, but come on, you're sure, SISSI trusted, and I actually talked to mah weird things but come on, just did not seem crazy (of course, for my criteria à la Fox Mulder, as already explained). The fact that others had probably misled me speak normally, so to say I was at a point of accumulation of desperate cases, in a statistical anomaly, near the extreme edge of the bell of the Gaussian normal. I mean, we were in the waiting room of the CEPU, and already there seemed a bit 'strange. I would be out of there seemed like something halfway between the dwarf from Twin Peaks and dancers Cthulhu, perhaps. I ask for clarification, what do you mean by crazy?, Well I am his friend, like she and others were in Rome for a business and were in a hotel, she was always with that guy with the hat bassottino rapper who was also in the hall 'appearance, and at some point if it is dragged into the room and if it is kept overnight, has made five or six swallows blowjob and fuck anything, only blowjob, just choking because he enjoys it, I say well , ok, everyone has fun as he sees fit, not mad at you for giving a girl because she likes to give head, there were!, very serious and he says yes, but she had brought with her mom and dad took him to their room and chased them away all night to do it on purpose. Ah.
Ah, I said, thinking to be done on the set of Clerks.
No in fact this box is not really happened that day, only the first part, the second took place several months later, after our second meeting and haunting past to history, but it would take away the rhythm to the story I have placed now because another dialogue with his friend after a long time would be redundant and boring for the reader. The fact of blowjobs then took place about a month later that morning, so everything is a sham. Besides, if I had known this at the time hardly have been a second meeting. Ie mica are so stupid, even if I undertake it hard to believe at all.

friends for the next installment in the drama's third episode!
Say no to drugs and yes to heavy metal!

Themes For Church Anniversary

[interlude bufo] Separated at birth.




but fuck's sake.
a sincere thanks to the magician who made me notice the similarity fished out this relic from the archive of the horrors of 2004.
I was not depressed enough to have recovered the lost pounds working on.
expect, from the same set (school trip to trees), crops up out of the picture where I am OK with behind a pile of cow dung, a perfect synthesis my present.
SOB.

spartitevi the remains of my asshole. (cited)

Wedding Program Templatesgroom's Mother Deceased

Corner misogynist: Good Luck to Lennie (pt. 1)

As such I am not a morning at the headquarters of the CEPU. No, it was not for me, then I was in letters and was committed to cigarette smoking alone on the steps of teaching love and little else. No we went with a friend.
This friend tells me comes from, so do not realize it, and I sure?, And him, but sure, go tranquo, ok I say. And within.
Oh the place is really nice, reminds me of the luxury apartments of the city, like the one where does my ex, so that bitch that does not give it to me kind of excuses that he had heard the ghosts there, let's see, and then I was put your ear to the wall and tell me you feel it?, and I well is normal, it will be water, or gas, or what the fuck I know, now you make me love licking pussy for pleasure?, and she aaaaah I heard again, is that little girl, cry!, and I but baby, if you mean that little girl with my dick is true, yes porcodio crying! Eh, that one. Yet he was rich, fuck, and I've been there seven months less one day and I have not even taken advantage of the wealth because they are honest. Nemmeno le ho rubato i fumetti che affollavano quella cella frigorifera dei sensi che era casa sua. But back to the CEPU. The CEPU is a fountain
boh style, tacky, fake, or maybe old ancient true, but it is pleasant from view, with all the perennials around, a floor of an old building nice and well kept, brushed every day, and there were bikes parked outside the front door that smelled of Italian comedy and stolen kisses at the rising of the moon.
later his friend called the elevator and I did not bother me a lift, I'm afraid of small places, and he is open come on now, ok I do, and within. Argh, the smallest elevator ever. I close my eyes, breathing fast, I feel like throwing up. The 4.5 seconds of my ugly, oh well, let's say weeks. Ih ih ih but he makes you feel really bad, I figured it was not to make the gag.
we are welcomed, I him and ten other twelve, but in a small room crowded with desks, but even so, comfortable. This palace so well done and starts to warm on me dick, I feel inferior to me that teaching a few days before I shit in a toilet with his feet sunk in the gray liquid that also lapped my pants. Then I think ha ha losers, the maturity I've already taken money without lifting, lollercoaster, I drink a lmaonade facciaccia to you and wearing my lollerskates to go pee in your toilet. After I would not have been so funny, that was the last time I caught bragging about something, I can remember.
Of course, the bathroom was not only better than that in which I shit in power, but also that of my house. A goccino pee goes off line and I feel guilty, I clean everything carefully, consumed by guilt.
back to the room in which there is a kind of meeting later this year. The professors are encouraging speeches and say that things are going very well with a tone of voice that, years later, I heard on the lips of directors and managers of human resources at the Fort, when the festivities of the staff told us that we were great and Fort make it big with our sacrifice and our ongoing commitment. At least I ste I connect two things, but it's no badarci lot because I've done a few things in life is very boring, and to pass time and make Interesting links them all to one another, so, as I am. Then I add a bit 'of sarcasm and invented stories to make room and give color. That's how I became one of the great storytellers of my generation. However
eventually give all un'agendina leatherette not too bad and we dismiss. The others had other things to do, maybe talk to the teachers one by one, getting signatures to put it somewhere, I do not know, however we end up in the waiting room. The waiting room is a beautiful place: there are machines for functional foods and beverages, stocked and also beautiful to behold. Crazy stuff. Smoking inside all of us, two wave packets of smoke casually, others drinking coffee, everybody casino and chat. I used to just make friends, I've got to throw fish. They look like the idle and the idle chattering in a small room is very easy to make friends.
And in fact it is precisely here that I know insanity.

(more ...)

Woman Strangling Woman

which illustrate the vital importance of clearly expressing a healthy distaste for the bad things. After

It's not that I am intransigent, to judge people so severe and relentless, pounding on every single word spoken, ready to come back to haunt those who have said in my presence at the first opportunity. That is, in short, an unbearable stracciacazzi. That's why people say about me, but it is not true. I also know a little person to be golden indeed. But
when, for the millionth time in my life, talking about music I hear obscenities like,

" Well, maybe to you the [xxx] are shitting stones and water, but from a technical standpoint [yyy] and [zzz ] are impeccable, you can not deny it! "

and

" Sure make crap music, no doubt, but the drummer [CCC] does its job well, this is out of question! "

and in addition:

" Ah as infamous album is rubbish and it is shameful that some songs were even think about it, but there production work behind truly stellar! "

here, I'm not like most of humanity.
But remember, always give respect to others' work (whatever it is), eh! Ah but
eye: respect yes, but still the job is well done according to the criteria by which we judge the traditionally gender stocazzo "or" stammerda, careful not to judge right from optics out because then you end up not having of this or that pile of crap fake and banal, the right vision, or worse, of not being able to place historically. Let it never be!
And if the author is a known genius, before you think I've done a whore you're careful to evaluate all the other assumptions, to chop his work in every infinitesimal part, maybe it's so genius that you do not realize, and still is, of course there will be some interesting things and always will be worth the trouble to pay attention in every detail, even losing sight of the fact that the work is a total crap. ^(*)
mica can not say that one thing makes you sick, is likely to appear as one that does not mean it that speaks without weighing all the elements involved. You must first have a pedigree of the musicians in mind, to know the instruments and the drum set used, remember the album kept by the same manufacturer and so on. Whether the songs themselves are a hodgepodge of stale riffs badly glued to each other by drum patterns ridiculous, redundant, and everything else is a contradictory mix of citations (plagiarism =) delusions of leadership and individual, matters little. Look how much skill with playing these crap!

[ the sexual metaphor that sums up humorously the sloth de 'day ]
"lifer Ah look at the psychopathic murderess of children with whom they put me in jail is certainly a despicable person and I slammed the face wall and then raped repeatedly, but he has a penis really nice and big and knows how to use it, you have to give him Act! "
[ end ]

Hear, hear how clean the sound and how high the volume of the recording! It is very high, you feel how the fucking altissimissimo volume of this fucking awful song ^(**) ! And hear the sounds of tom as are deep in this passage that would also include a goatherd zufolante dell'Herat, just beautiful!

Fri deserve them, Dream Theater. And all the side-project including how not to mention the OSI and the Transatlantic, or Liquid Tension Experiment.
You deserve this cover as , expressing her going your mediocrity ^(***) .
You deserve the ultimate miscarriage of Metallica, the previous, simultaneous viewing MTV Icon with their guests of honor, the film-truth (?) "Some Kind of Monster" and this video clip. You deserve
movies Marilyn Manson attached to his cd. You deserve
Chicago that have become a rock classic, and Pappalardo who sings in tribute to Baptists. You deserve the
OF MISFITS JERRY ONLY .

Then I keep wondering why no longer released albums like this:



(But even as this or this, to be honest.)

Keep segarvi on your big shift workers who can not think of a sequence of notes but they sound decent God for that of others, ejaculate blood on your dick vintage sounds on your music-wave revival, the old-style synth (AAAAHHHHHHH!!) and of Baustelle "The Underworld" ^(****) .

Listen to me, put your ear, light of my eyes misted and old: never trust, never, NEVER say that people always find something good in things, of those who never say that a cd is a shit but they have a mouth full of "masterpieces" of those who never loses his balance, which is an awkward comparison Weltron.
are their own, apparently sloth, to issue the most devastating and irrevocable judgments against people, to drive them out of the circle, to exclude them in the most cowardly and infamous ^(*****) .
Avoid them like the plague. Keep them away, insultateli, accoltellateli gallbladder.
Give them a fucking reason to hate you true and force them to take a clear position.
For the good of all.

Yes, I gained.
But listen to "Sadness Will Prevail" by Today Is The Day helps to digest.


_____________________________
^(*) : a name and a surname? Roger Waters. Ça Ira, porcodio, CA IRA. For one thing.

^(**) : yes ok, Raw Power in the mix in 1997 by Bruce Dickinson (faithful to the original master wanted to be Iggy Pop, Bowie not to tweakability of 73) is perhaps "The Loudest Album Ever "And all this raise the volumes is killing the music together with other 2 * 10 48 things, but it's another story, right?

^(***) : fuck I can not help thinking of their fans in the office playing with those fucking balls desk with a smile as they watch the video on YT. is an image that grips my heart, in its way is something to skip the three-legged dog with Alice In Chains.

^(****) : yes, I admit. the "Subsidiary explained" I like, and "The Song of the reformatory" is a beautiful song, with controcoglioni. if dreams Bianconi to write a piece like this, now. Enjoy the ranking, fags, so good.

^(*****) one day I'll tell you what I think of the inner torment of Roger Waters. Wish You Were Here, diocane, ugly hypocritical whited sepulcher Vietnamese son of a bitch with AIDS. WISH YOU WERE HERE.

Kates Name From Kates Playground

cease to exist, pt. II



tomorrow I shit the money.

When Does Costco Sell Their Brush Set

Saigon. Shit.

[WARNING: This post is subject to post-trots disappointment in love]

will not speak of the Fort. Indeed
maybe yes, but not now, because the information that I know of threatening me, my family, my friends, their children, their children's children, my women and, incidentally, even your mother.
will not speak of my recent experiences and my new knowledge, as my memories of pullulino tasty anecdotes about human folly and sull'abbrutimento soul in situations of captivity.
not even talk about my future, to which I look with the incurable optimism of a dodo.

I'll just say this: freedom is overrated. The rest, ditto. Since I returned
home is a series of media events to empty message to which no one answers, to "see you in these days." They are, indeed, a very uninteresting person on the outside (as I lead a very intense spiritual life and possesses a rich inner arise, St. Augustine I should just suck the beans), but damn, this makes it seem like the desert social life Papillon a new year with Roy Paci and his band of wags.
spend my days, waiting for something to move, to do gymnastics not regain the weight they lost, not to lose the muscles acquired. Desperate enterprise. Beginning to resemble a kind of Travis Bickle and are just going to make me seriously the mohawk. I retain only the fact of not knowing what form it may take my bare head.

For you, after a month when the kindest thing you have heard is "asshole! dickhead "by a Neapolitan chef fat fucking scum of the earth, at least the minimum you think" ah, I come home, so that finally there ways I will use urban pig god. "
way back, but not exactly the rivers of milk and honey and carefree nymphs who play in a pond below the falls.
Contact your friends, but they seem to zombies, the serfs (in the medieval sense) who spend their wages in alcohol, which are idle or magnificence to the bar to share long silences. Sometimes the silence is broken and there is talk of high school, but do you remember that morning ceeeeh upstream claro erupted Lost? Perhaps, you think after a while 'before you sit down you were talking, the silence you brought you here. Nothing easier: at the table there are a number of well-known former friends, with friends, but the boundaries between each other and are rather blurred lately. But who wants to understand these things now. Too tired. Impalateli all, then Christ will judge them. Consult a book that skeletal
not swell for months and months to see if anything is still possible to remedy the archive pussies, and nothing, all busy, busy, annoyed, silent. Exit
evenings at sea, who knows, maybe there's some concert, some reggaettara a bit 'wrong with the skirt with flowers, and instead you're stuck between the cover and heavy metal dream theater nerd. You look around and see the same guys at the bar of the country, while the department pussy all the best stuff is included in the group on stage, the rest of the stuff from one part of Bosch, attractive, and with the receding chin venticinquesettenni eyed greasy hair and movements sea lions. Cristosanto. You get up hurriedly in the ass with a little 'difficulty, and the Short oh, the usual playlist of shit! Prodigy, Blur, Chemical Brothers, Rage Against The Machine, System Of A Down, stuff 10 years ago, perfect for the couple with memories rescued by necromancers at the bar the day before. Spotted a group of beautiful little mouse dancing sun, of which two are just good, you come closer and just say a friendly "Hello", and those close to curl, from dancers who were digivolve in a flash alternates in mathematics and physics, and strict but fair you drive away with a "but no, thanks, okay, hello hello". Lesbian shit, you die screaming. Note a bizarre knot near there: a beautiful Topina surrounded by five thugs. The expression on their faces say "competition." You approach to test the nature of the curious crowd (after all you are a guy who is alarmed when even sniff a gang rape, if nothing else is watching a good opportunity to touch) and realize that not only are trying to grasp all and 5, but did not know each other, because they ask each other names. Note also that some people are worse off than you (and them): close to a friend of hers, which obviously behind the crack, is to watch and suffer, while welcoming the substantial amount of NO which distributes it to his Beatrice desperate people around her. Poor devil, do you sympathize with his misfortune, and while you're watching that eludes him that she oversees the string that gives thugs. This
you down. What the fuck happened to everyone? Always something to be really successful. Perhaps the pain in the feet and muscles, poor sleep, the treatment reserved by the Gestapo to you from your head you have tarnished the memory. When was the last time this place has given you milk and honey?
Answer: pretty much, when you were in high school. And not even so much honey, to say the truth.
Suddenly, you feel the need to tell someone your funny adventures of long ago.

I feel like a veteran unappreciated, like Rambo. Vietnam was the best: I'm back for a week and already I'm sick of these balls are peaceful and defenseless asshole.