Love is like playing with Lego delayed:
seprate arguing for no reason, if one wants
build something, the other
disassemble it to him and ends that someone swallows something to someone else ...
Monday, April 26, 2010
Lg Be08 External Connected To Xbox 360
Love is like playing with Lego delayed:
seprate arguing for no reason, if one wants
build something, the other
disassemble it to him and ends that someone swallows something to someone else ...
Monday, April 19, 2010
Best Thing For Sore Joints
Love Do not panic! The Satyricon
There are those days when a man, it is unfortunately devoid of ovaries, gli vengono le crisi esistenziali. In assenza di mestruazioni ed in continua crisi di astinenza da masturbazioni, aspettando l’agognata andropausa, gli ormoni, la noia, il testosterone e un po’ di sano pessimismo cosmico creano un mix assolutamente irresistibile. Così ci si ritrova ad errare per i propri pensieri con sguardo vacuamente perso nel vuoto cosmico e bavetta alla bocca.
Quel giorno andavo cercando la risposta alla domanda fondamentale sulla vita,l'universo e tutto quanto : nonostante mi sia fatto una ragione che la risposta a tale domanda sia nell'ordine del 42, sapere quale sia effettivamente questa fantomatica domanda aiuterebbe alquanto.
Sei per nove? 42. No it does not work, I do not like.
What I have in my pocket? 42. Too bad, I had a 5.
apparently find the question dictating the boundary conditions seems difficult, better to find questions that can be groped for an answer. How would THAT: what are we going? When we're doing? Or rather, what the future holds and what the fuck are we to make of the past? If I were rich, beautiful and famous would be the host of a program of the De Filippi?
hypothetical periods apart the key to understanding the future is to analyze the past. Well if I had to take a look at my past I would cynically critical ridirmi something. Since it does not matter what I think of myself, but what others think me, the society in which I live associatimi categorized according to stereotypes since I went to school. Although since the medium you are forced to play a role (nerdy, ugly, fat, suck ...) is when you go to your superiors that you begin to be branded for life. Not daring to even imagine what title you can boast a graduate of High School, to me, hardened with the penniless fat guy down the technique, I was saddled with the high-sounding title of "Expert Technician in Electronics and Telecommunications, despite the old joke the "last six perished on the train?" did laugh until the end of the 80s is a price that each of we must pay foreman. The fact remains that I have never been Capotecnico anyone, not even myself. Maybe that's why I decided to make the university, or rather the Polytechnic. So at least I could say "graduate." Oh no, there has been reform: more than the Second Vatican Council, now take three years after graduation short, then the specialist. If the bar of the Perito filled me with embarrassment as you think that I felt to be appealed as a graduate Briefly?
"Hey hello! You know when you came from is that I can not levarti eyes off her. You're very cute! What's your name? "
" Judith ... "
" What name great, io sono Giuseppe. Che fai di bello nella vita? Studi, lavori…”
“Studio Scienza della Comunicazione in Bocconi perché in Statale ci vanno solo i lerci. E tu?”
“Eh, io sono Laureato Brevemente in ing…”
“Senti, sei il quarto che stasera mi dice di avere problemi di eiaculazione precoce…”
Il climax, appunto, lo si raggiunge quando scopri la traduzione del tuo titolo di laurea nel mondo anglosassone: Bachelor of Science. Non mi sono mai posto il problema di che cavolo possa significare, ma googolando si scopre facilmente che “bachelor” vuole dire “scapolo”. Non che la mia classe di ingegneria elettronica pululasse the chick as a monastery in medieval times, but if 22 years are all free to give bachelor's, then you want to ruin the life of an individual. Ah no, that's looking better, the tenth meaning of "bachelor" is something like a "knight". Too bad they have run out of dragons to slay
IKEA ... Because evil is premature ejaculation discuss anyone's, I decided to take the degree. Bachelor goes to Master of Science. I am a Master
! Now I can teach in elementary school!
"Master ... I lose my shit."
"Oh no, Luke, you can go to the bathroom only after you've shown that that stage bipolar input is properly polarized ... "In fact, I
wrinkle a bit 'not to have continued with the Ph.D. To be able to philosophize about it all with the backing of the scientific society can be a nice slap in the face if your ultimate goal is convince your beloved mother earth is not round as claimed for years on television.
And what about the title of engineer? Leopardi was attentive to repeat Silvia when she was a menosella and not if the spinning: "I sometimes leaving graceful studies and sweaty cards, where my first and I was being consumed, the best part." Five years of sacrifice to sweat and cry bitter tears, an Exam State fake to receive a title branded on the forehead that not only does not mean you are equipped with intelligence, but runs away like hell any girl of marriageable age or old girl in search of adventure, attracting the other hand, any kind disasters. As divorcees with children without a penny of the bill, who have neither the desire nor the courage to become a prostitute. Well said my colleague Cinzio: "you can not take home mica cow and calf ..."
In short, all 'sti-sounding titles, and then we, what is? What is it? Everything we've done, heard, known, won, we were saddled, will serve to make us a better future? Someone said
that the art makes it immortal: the Goethe said that he wanted to shit. "Damn, transfixed by the passion, love survives us, the art makes us immortal." Or even immoral, as the man of Vitruvius who looked worthy of a pedophile priest.
There they are, some millions of artists in the history of humanity Arts gave us in spades, more Tiziano Ferro Giusy Ferreri and that will be remembered forever as examples of how we should not sing. I like to think that one day we will be invaded by a cheerful bunch of zombies screaming with the features of Leonardo, Picasso, Kafka ... That day will give us knowledge, we let you know all those domande che tanto agognamo.
Quel giorno sarò in prima fila, chiappe all'aria, a farmi beffe della loro immortalità
“Perché?”: la peggiore, più completa domanda che la mente umana abbia mai potuto concepire. Più strana del “cosa”, più puntuale del “quando”, più irriverente di un “come”, più corretta del “dove”, più cattiva di un “chi”. Un vero peccato che non ci sia risposta.
There are those days when a man, it is unfortunately devoid of ovaries, gli vengono le crisi esistenziali. In assenza di mestruazioni ed in continua crisi di astinenza da masturbazioni, aspettando l’agognata andropausa, gli ormoni, la noia, il testosterone e un po’ di sano pessimismo cosmico creano un mix assolutamente irresistibile. Così ci si ritrova ad errare per i propri pensieri con sguardo vacuamente perso nel vuoto cosmico e bavetta alla bocca.
Quel giorno andavo cercando la risposta alla domanda fondamentale sulla vita,l'universo e tutto quanto : nonostante mi sia fatto una ragione che la risposta a tale domanda sia nell'ordine del 42, sapere quale sia effettivamente questa fantomatica domanda aiuterebbe alquanto.
Sei per nove? 42. No it does not work, I do not like.
What I have in my pocket? 42. Too bad, I had a 5.
apparently find the question dictating the boundary conditions seems difficult, better to find questions that can be groped for an answer. How would THAT: what are we going? When we're doing? Or rather, what the future holds and what the fuck are we to make of the past? If I were rich, beautiful and famous would be the host of a program of the De Filippi?
hypothetical periods apart the key to understanding the future is to analyze the past. Well if I had to take a look at my past I would cynically critical ridirmi something. Since it does not matter what I think of myself, but what others think me, the society in which I live associatimi categorized according to stereotypes since I went to school. Although since the medium you are forced to play a role (nerdy, ugly, fat, suck ...) is when you go to your superiors that you begin to be branded for life. Not daring to even imagine what title you can boast a graduate of High School, to me, hardened with the penniless fat guy down the technique, I was saddled with the high-sounding title of "Expert Technician in Electronics and Telecommunications, despite the old joke the "last six perished on the train?" did laugh until the end of the 80s is a price that each of we must pay foreman. The fact remains that I have never been Capotecnico anyone, not even myself. Maybe that's why I decided to make the university, or rather the Polytechnic. So at least I could say "graduate." Oh no, there has been reform: more than the Second Vatican Council, now take three years after graduation short, then the specialist. If the bar of the Perito filled me with embarrassment as you think that I felt to be appealed as a graduate Briefly?
"Hey hello! You know when you came from is that I can not levarti eyes off her. You're very cute! What's your name? "
" Judith ... "
" What name great, io sono Giuseppe. Che fai di bello nella vita? Studi, lavori…”
“Studio Scienza della Comunicazione in Bocconi perché in Statale ci vanno solo i lerci. E tu?”
“Eh, io sono Laureato Brevemente in ing…”
“Senti, sei il quarto che stasera mi dice di avere problemi di eiaculazione precoce…”
Il climax, appunto, lo si raggiunge quando scopri la traduzione del tuo titolo di laurea nel mondo anglosassone: Bachelor of Science. Non mi sono mai posto il problema di che cavolo possa significare, ma googolando si scopre facilmente che “bachelor” vuole dire “scapolo”. Non che la mia classe di ingegneria elettronica pululasse the chick as a monastery in medieval times, but if 22 years are all free to give bachelor's, then you want to ruin the life of an individual. Ah no, that's looking better, the tenth meaning of "bachelor" is something like a "knight". Too bad they have run out of dragons to slay
IKEA ... Because evil is premature ejaculation discuss anyone's, I decided to take the degree. Bachelor goes to Master of Science. I am a Master
! Now I can teach in elementary school!
"Master ... I lose my shit."
"Oh no, Luke, you can go to the bathroom only after you've shown that that stage bipolar input is properly polarized ... "In fact, I
wrinkle a bit 'not to have continued with the Ph.D. To be able to philosophize about it all with the backing of the scientific society can be a nice slap in the face if your ultimate goal is convince your beloved mother earth is not round as claimed for years on television.
And what about the title of engineer? Leopardi was attentive to repeat Silvia when she was a menosella and not if the spinning: "I sometimes leaving graceful studies and sweaty cards, where my first and I was being consumed, the best part." Five years of sacrifice to sweat and cry bitter tears, an Exam State fake to receive a title branded on the forehead that not only does not mean you are equipped with intelligence, but runs away like hell any girl of marriageable age or old girl in search of adventure, attracting the other hand, any kind disasters. As divorcees with children without a penny of the bill, who have neither the desire nor the courage to become a prostitute. Well said my colleague Cinzio: "you can not take home mica cow and calf ..."
In short, all 'sti-sounding titles, and then we, what is? What is it? Everything we've done, heard, known, won, we were saddled, will serve to make us a better future? Someone said
that the art makes it immortal: the Goethe said that he wanted to shit. "Damn, transfixed by the passion, love survives us, the art makes us immortal." Or even immoral, as the man of Vitruvius who looked worthy of a pedophile priest.
There they are, some millions of artists in the history of humanity Arts gave us in spades, more Tiziano Ferro Giusy Ferreri and that will be remembered forever as examples of how we should not sing. I like to think that one day we will be invaded by a cheerful bunch of zombies screaming with the features of Leonardo, Picasso, Kafka ... That day will give us knowledge, we let you know all those domande che tanto agognamo.
Quel giorno sarò in prima fila, chiappe all'aria, a farmi beffe della loro immortalità
“Perché?”: la peggiore, più completa domanda che la mente umana abbia mai potuto concepire. Più strana del “cosa”, più puntuale del “quando”, più irriverente di un “come”, più corretta del “dove”, più cattiva di un “chi”. Un vero peccato che non ci sia risposta.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Invoice Cost Of 2010 Mdx
Ci were times when we could laugh. No, correct me, there were times when we could laugh about it. I was an eighteen year old kid that he understood little of political satire and even less, but I was raised on bread and "Trio" with a spalmenta of Jalappa's Band, hovering between the 80s and 90s. Then I went to "Tunnel" in '96, the plot of what was once the summer hits "Pippo Kennedy Show" the following year and then become followers of that in "The Eighth Dwarf" which ended in 2001. In those days there were for everyone, right and left Inalto and down, front and rear, with a particular fondness, is the exclusive property of Satire Conlie capital "S", for whom, if you take the piss, if takes it. You know I was a fat kid and I would know something about "taking the piss", but as a disambiguation, if you are prevented ask Ricky Martin, a few days neo-Ghei. Clearly, it is normal, it is eternal: if you do something stupid, someone will take the piss, if you are a midget in a bikini, someone will take the piss, if you are a politician, someone will take the piss for what you did. I was fat and I took the piss. But it's like the law of the jungle, more and more angry you they'll take the piss, but if you take a good laugh and respond in kind and are at their game, sooner or later get tired and maybe you end up enjoy it a bit 'too.
Vi propongo la bella rassegna satirica che portò al famoso Editto Bulgaro nei confronti del comico Luttazzi. La celeberrima intervista a Travaglio durante la trasmissione Satyricon, se avete mezz'ora da dedicarvi, è qui divisa in tre parti:
Dopo le polemiche il programma fu sospeso per una settimana ed al suo ritorno, Luttazzi, spiegò la situazione a suo modo:
And finally, abandoning the satire and moving on to investigative journalism, the recorded interview with Paolo Borsellino to Vittorio Mangano, a former groom's house in Arcore Berlusconi, French TV interview with fifty days before he was killed in via D'Amelio:
Here it is: the Fourth Estate.
"So let me give you some advice, you bastard" [...] "Never, never forget who you are, because some of the world will not forget. Turn who you are in your strength, so it can never be your weakness. Make it an armor, and can never be used against you. "
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