... Guan of as lonli jer is laying in bed. Esterina
at the cylinder, guisin if songüere els guides instead. Guan
lonli of as is, as is only gloves of Guétin for a col ... ..
must have looked something halfway between Terence Stamp in "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" and Paco Clavel, Abba singing like crazy while driving back to Madrid.
This morning I bathed on the beach. This body God has given me has been submerged in the waters of the Mediterranean for a while. Floating, playing dead, playing around with the sound that left my ears half-submerged in the bubbles of the waves passed beneath me. That's always cool, but if I do an October 26 is even more commendable. The sea was beautiful and radiated thousand different colors to distinguish those who never know: green turquoise, bladder, blue topaz, cobalt blue, mauve .... And though the water was nice and cool I have left a good time to make me feel every inch of my body and noticing what part of my anatomy was reacting to the cold and what part of my anatomy began to generate heat.
Jo, I have this very neglected, and I'm sorry. But I can only plan to have things in Bridget Jones Diary, but around a hundred: so many cigarettes smoked, so many pounds, I'm reading this book, this film I've seen ....
Yes, I started smoking again. The fault lies with my recent holiday in Denmark. It is not serious to buy a pack of Marlboros and you put 'er Rygning yderst skadelig for dig og dine omgivelser. " Of course, that is not perceived the danger of blood flow and the range of Impotence fades with each puff smoke. No one is aware that bother those around you, do not you realize the fact that smoking can cause a slow and painful death. On the other hand, that beautiful and desirable is a high percentage of Danish women, despite their bland faces! I remember I saw two with whom I had not city hall. Rectified, there was one. Now that I think was the Little Mermaid statue. Rectified, there were zero. The other was another statue, this time of Hans Christian Andersen.
As if my ramblings have triggered an alarm, my phone rings. Is to say that Southern Antena 3 starts a movie called "The Sweethearts. " I called because he knows that I have not seen and I love any movie where John Cusack out. Damn, and this also leaves the Zeta Jones. I do not see a movie, series, program, contest in which there appears, at least, a beautiful woman. And I continue. I do not know if I am a satirist, a dilettante, an esthetician or out, but what can we do.
I have been fucking the pool. I lost against Recre Murcia and Madrid and Sevilla who tied a week keeps me in the group of death with no chance of driving a Porsche, short of buying a suit and remote Hermenegildo Zegna caught a flight to Tahiti tomorrow . Next time ... ...
Of course, I bought some dark brown boots fucking Panama Jack. Identical to those that have taken over the past four winters and I had to pull shattered a few months ago, with a tear rolling down my cheeks. Of all my worldly goods those boots (and now this) are the most precious. I understand the fear of extinction. I understand the desperate attachment to the material. I understand the concept of "dying with their boots on" and I will delve into the subject of the resurrection of the flesh. And as confirming that there is another life, one day raise from the dead and I will continue wearing a 43, embrace Catholicism. I would
be a good photographer, because it would make a series of photographs really cool playing with the absurd and some phrases. For example, I would photograph in the subway, reading. Would the title of the book, such as "Science and metaphysics in the pre-critical Kant." I would face being very focused on what I read, with a cap and a T-bohemian M-Clan Cold Soup tour. And behind me would be about right signs for Line 2, Sales - Cuatro Caminos and left the line 5, Canillejas - Aluche. And titled "Reading between the lines." I have thought more crap, but I write not because then I get a colleague overrated Ray Loriga type and is capable of doing something similar. Step of lawsuits ... ... Note to self: knowing the Madrid metro lines and do not keep remembering only his tour of 1984.
Speaking of reading, I devoured in the past few days i) The best that can happen to a croissant. I laughed a lot because it is a mixture of Eduardo Mendoza and Torrente. And I admit without shame that I like both types of humor. I have also read ii) The magnitude of the tragedy of Quim Monzo. I rendered one of its readers, but this has left me mixed feelings, and unfortunately is far from gasoline. The great discovery was no doubt (thanks From, I adore you), iii) Cold Skin Albert Sánchez Piñol. The first 20 pages are captivating in themselves, but wholly unexpected twist that gives the story had me on edge all night, because I could not put it down. I'm afraid to find out other works by this author for not tempted to browse, buy and disappoint, so I'll let some time pass and meanwhile I launched iv) 2666 Bolaño is seducing me greatly though extremely uncomfortable to read in bed. Ja.
I will hang this on the blog, then I am torn between a) continue with Bolaño, b) a presentation to get to work I have to do on Tuesday, c) fall in love with Ann Baxter in All About Eve d) being moved to tears with the Adagio from concerto for two harpsichords BMW 1060 of Bach.
sure end up with the Pro Evolution in Play 2 and putting a washing machine. The return of the identical. Nietzsche put it well.
at the cylinder, guisin if songüere els guides instead. Guan
lonli of as is, as is only gloves of Guétin for a col ... ..
must have looked something halfway between Terence Stamp in "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" and Paco Clavel, Abba singing like crazy while driving back to Madrid.
This morning I bathed on the beach. This body God has given me has been submerged in the waters of the Mediterranean for a while. Floating, playing dead, playing around with the sound that left my ears half-submerged in the bubbles of the waves passed beneath me. That's always cool, but if I do an October 26 is even more commendable. The sea was beautiful and radiated thousand different colors to distinguish those who never know: green turquoise, bladder, blue topaz, cobalt blue, mauve .... And though the water was nice and cool I have left a good time to make me feel every inch of my body and noticing what part of my anatomy was reacting to the cold and what part of my anatomy began to generate heat.
Jo, I have this very neglected, and I'm sorry. But I can only plan to have things in Bridget Jones Diary, but around a hundred: so many cigarettes smoked, so many pounds, I'm reading this book, this film I've seen ....
Yes, I started smoking again. The fault lies with my recent holiday in Denmark. It is not serious to buy a pack of Marlboros and you put 'er Rygning yderst skadelig for dig og dine omgivelser. " Of course, that is not perceived the danger of blood flow and the range of Impotence fades with each puff smoke. No one is aware that bother those around you, do not you realize the fact that smoking can cause a slow and painful death. On the other hand, that beautiful and desirable is a high percentage of Danish women, despite their bland faces! I remember I saw two with whom I had not city hall. Rectified, there was one. Now that I think was the Little Mermaid statue. Rectified, there were zero. The other was another statue, this time of Hans Christian Andersen.
As if my ramblings have triggered an alarm, my phone rings. Is to say that Southern Antena 3 starts a movie called "The Sweethearts. " I called because he knows that I have not seen and I love any movie where John Cusack out. Damn, and this also leaves the Zeta Jones. I do not see a movie, series, program, contest in which there appears, at least, a beautiful woman. And I continue. I do not know if I am a satirist, a dilettante, an esthetician or out, but what can we do.
I have been fucking the pool. I lost against Recre Murcia and Madrid and Sevilla who tied a week keeps me in the group of death with no chance of driving a Porsche, short of buying a suit and remote Hermenegildo Zegna caught a flight to Tahiti tomorrow . Next time ... ...
Of course, I bought some dark brown boots fucking Panama Jack. Identical to those that have taken over the past four winters and I had to pull shattered a few months ago, with a tear rolling down my cheeks. Of all my worldly goods those boots (and now this) are the most precious. I understand the fear of extinction. I understand the desperate attachment to the material. I understand the concept of "dying with their boots on" and I will delve into the subject of the resurrection of the flesh. And as confirming that there is another life, one day raise from the dead and I will continue wearing a 43, embrace Catholicism. I would
be a good photographer, because it would make a series of photographs really cool playing with the absurd and some phrases. For example, I would photograph in the subway, reading. Would the title of the book, such as "Science and metaphysics in the pre-critical Kant." I would face being very focused on what I read, with a cap and a T-bohemian M-Clan Cold Soup tour. And behind me would be about right signs for Line 2, Sales - Cuatro Caminos and left the line 5, Canillejas - Aluche. And titled "Reading between the lines." I have thought more crap, but I write not because then I get a colleague overrated Ray Loriga type and is capable of doing something similar. Step of lawsuits ... ... Note to self: knowing the Madrid metro lines and do not keep remembering only his tour of 1984.
Speaking of reading, I devoured in the past few days i) The best that can happen to a croissant. I laughed a lot because it is a mixture of Eduardo Mendoza and Torrente. And I admit without shame that I like both types of humor. I have also read ii) The magnitude of the tragedy of Quim Monzo. I rendered one of its readers, but this has left me mixed feelings, and unfortunately is far from gasoline. The great discovery was no doubt (thanks From, I adore you), iii) Cold Skin Albert Sánchez Piñol. The first 20 pages are captivating in themselves, but wholly unexpected twist that gives the story had me on edge all night, because I could not put it down. I'm afraid to find out other works by this author for not tempted to browse, buy and disappoint, so I'll let some time pass and meanwhile I launched iv) 2666 Bolaño is seducing me greatly though extremely uncomfortable to read in bed. Ja.
I will hang this on the blog, then I am torn between a) continue with Bolaño, b) a presentation to get to work I have to do on Tuesday, c) fall in love with Ann Baxter in All About Eve d) being moved to tears with the Adagio from concerto for two harpsichords BMW 1060 of Bach.
sure end up with the Pro Evolution in Play 2 and putting a washing machine. The return of the identical. Nietzsche put it well.
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