Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Quick Books Premier License Number

each other and others with special participation of all of them with us

I move between zigzags, and essential parallelepipeds Compositions delicious.

others move between pins and needles.

other between waves.

algunosotros between fideuas and even more delicious crunchy nuggets.

others do otherwise,

hanging as carrying a bottle of rumple slash mamajuana and walking drunk and cry where he pulls the card. print that will last me a long time given the picturesque orrrvidar case. said that he had stolen, and many that are stolen, it had to be done quickly because tomorrow it was the English or German tourist near accompanying her and another woman beside her said, if you steal it po you the citizens give it a trusted person and she is most comfortable in the chair to turn the lady and tell where a good sabroseo of words, and to whom?? and then complained that his mother was his trusted person died and I almost began to mourn but I could not continue serving the gadget because tobacco out focusing on not so bad in the photo because it lasts 7 years or so and I had a little earlier when I was a teenager.

others do something like buy two boxes of oatmeal with plums showing their great kindness

or decide what color to paint the hair is

or disappoint

or die today leaving a friend sad, like my grandfather

or reconciled, again.

or choose to forget

or find

or pretend

or play with dolls

or choose cool skins for your phone

or start the diet to be skinny

or melt more than a cheese sandwich when he looks Valgame God

or they're corny Being

or learning Portuguese

or doing anything else.

least this. here, now.

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Why Does Toothace Hurt At Night

To whom it may concern I do not want to die

I'm not sleepy, but I've always been a very good sleep. At night, I crawl into bed, put my head on the pillow and just spend 10 minutes (if they) before I sleep. It is usually what takes the arch of my back up to the ass to accommodate the mattress.

The truth is that it is fortunate not only because this break, but because it seems I'm one of those lucky at all, however serious (with some exceptions, I'm not stone), I lose sleep. Sometimes, to strut and downplay it, say it is because I have a clean conscience. Actually it's usually because I'm tired and also because I like to move around in bed.



bed ever given me great ideas, so I have paper and pen on the table, but usually the times I have caused sleepless fears, anxieties and pain. The oldest

remember them as real hell as terrible childhood earaches I awoke from my peaceful sleep. And then had the shame of telling things and would not bother, so when after several attempts to relax and go to sleep again saw the pain overcame me, I had no choice but to surrender to despair and throw me to mourn, but short. Two or three tears later, my mother would wake up and say: "Silvia, what's wrong?" At that point I knew that victory over those pesky punctures was mine, and that in a moment all would have happened. I answered, softly through her tears: "My ears hurt, and my mother got up, stretched a protective blanket on the table, and plugged the plate as he pulled two tiny towels. The doubling in the form of a pad, passing the hot iron and I ran one. "Here, put it between your ear and the pillow, but be careful not to burn." The lobe was burning, but the heat relaxing me, as my mother put another towel on the plate to relieve the previous one, which was cool. So he repeated the operation until I slept with one under the ear, the morning after was the only reminder of my agony girl with the ears.

But other nights there was no pain, only darkness and silence that the streets are finished in the pouch of my neighborhood, and it sounded like a constant buzz. Other times from the door I got a glimmer of light and sound (light) of the TV that my parents were still watching. Then began to fantasize, and he rolled me mind, a thought crossed with another. A few days thinking about the school, others in the things she heard at home, and sometimes, as all children do, in death. Those were the worst days. Not thinking about how they die, or pain or anything like that, only one kind of view from beyond the grave in which he saw that the world was without me. And I did a lot of anger, as if (as is actually) is not noticed my absence. Ever mentioned it to my mother, I guess because she has always been very keen to make clear that she does not mind leaving this world. Years have passed, and now live in another house, but remains on the same street, ending in cul de sac, with the same buzz. And those moments before sleep are still as disturbing. And years later, again leaving the subject, My mother tells me: "Child, is that from small're committed to that you want to die."

And yes, it's true. I do not want to die. Especially since now that I do not care that the world will continue without me, now I have fear of other details.

So today I uneasy all day. Because one thing is going to accept what is upon us, and another victim of a pandemic. One thing is that one be misled by the excitement of being part of history, and one who wants to appear on the books of the cone (the mixture of natural and social absurd called "middle knowledge") as part of a number, as in his day there in my history books hit the poor the plague.

The truth does not seem right at this time. What if I have to end up in a car (now would be in a truck, I guess) between loads of bodies to carry
burn me after they have painted the door of my house with a cross to warn my curse, damn it at least not be at this time of crisis, I'm unemployed and I have no desire to grant me one last trip as a farewell to New York, a feast with friends or to make a contract to someone for me to scratch the back throughout the day.

also is not the same die of an epidemic caused by rats, which is a thing as misery, that to do otherwise caused by the animal that gives the ham. Not just live in a time when you warm in cold weather and hot weather cooling off, in which you travel miles in minutes, in which a cavity can not kill you to end up like centuries ago.

No, I do not want to die of the flu, or avian or swine, or sleep with your ass in the air, so tomorrow I go to Lidl, and like my mother when war threatens, I collect and I stay here locked up with sauce, until the thing happens and the hogs do not pose more danger than a few extra kilos or a guy who tries to get you hand.


Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Ocean City Senior Week House Rentals

BRITAIN, BRITAIN, BRITAIN (part two)

Funny how you change the mood overnight. Today I was in a London darker than yesterday, or perhaps I should say that I've been less happy than yesterday. Is that I see an overcast sky and now I get low blood sugar. But as for now one can choose to have blond children (English-like), but not the day you're going to do on vacation, I have to fuck me and make plans with a "What if time permits."

allowed time at the end all, because it has not rained, but "was not of God." I left a little late, and although it was a time when "off-peak" (Which is not rush hour), the subway was really bad, something that should not be rare because the stations have a man who puts on a blackboard Velleda "good service", as no other times you give him bad, is what has happened to me today to me, I have taken the car twice to wait for the next. Luckily

had a free newspaper and I've learned several things. What the minister is still kicking, but the G-20 has made the affair Perer bellows. By contrast, Jade Goody is in loving memory of the British, who walk pending funeral, because now Jacko (the English papers are given the nickname, so is Michael Jackson Jacko, Like Madge Madonna, Victoria Beckham is Posh and Becks) says it will not, but pray for her. I do not know if they have buried or cremated, but a lady called Val Thompson makes you a little picture of monkey sea with the ashes of your lord husband or your beloved mother, so he was commissioned as one of Goody and just hanging on porting the national gallery, where the same is that Mr. Churchill Virgin rich.

As the British is like this in the manual works, because I also have learned from the newspaper a couple of old men who has spent 19 years recreating in miniature the town where they met. They have even put their own figures at the entrance movies that were on their first dates, with posters of the movies they saw at the time. Has been the news of the day Coca-Cola, which is not to sponsor me, but it made me mourn, as announcements of the company in Atlanta. But according to manual work, but much more disgusting, is the story an anesthesiologist who treated women going into abortion. The partially sedaba as is done in such interventions, but it seems that the guy pulled pork is the jam and the girls placed in his hand, while asking them things like "What is your alcoholic beverage favorite? In girls, the little question they should seem odd, but it seemed strange a nurse saw the man with the cock in the innocent hand of a patient, so it cracked and then caught the hands (otherwise), as a member.

Well, leaving the news and continuing with my delays and my bad leg. After I took a metro bus high red to go to St. Paul's Cathedral, I've never visited, but I confused and I thought I had gone to stop, so I downloaded and it turns out I was a while (let's be silly shit, because it looks that this cathedral is huge, not to see it). To make matters worse, I have come to the cathedral and gentlemen "bobbies" I have been refused entry because there was a private act. All this before noon time when the whole city mobilizes and begins to swallow, but things are not as tasty as these pieces of cheese sold in the market
Borough


To me the issue of chow in London me crazy. I do not like seeing people eating in the street, is the time of day it is. They will have their schedules, do not tell me no, but I fail to know exactly what they are. I know this is true of all life, but also that culture freaks me out to eat on the street that Londoners (I think the English in general and many Americans) exhibit. Any place is good to get the sandwich / salad / Currys varied and made to move the mustache. When the bobbies have left me again without seeing inside St. Paul, I found a Marks & Spencer food alone, and I have not resistrido to enter. I have no regrets. Lechuceo is paradise, as he called my mother to Malcolm. Sandwiches of all kinds, cakes, bags of snacks varied, ranging from a thousand varieties of potato chips (cheddar flavored cured, onion, salt and vinegar) to fried banana with honey and black pepper, small bowls of salad dressing can with strawberries and champagne vinegar, to cooked salmon slices or small bags of dried fruit containing several sprockets, an almond, raisins and some dried apricots. I took the bag fried banana (put do not know what crisps and I thought they were potatoes) and a juice that has resulted Rapsberry also contain orange juice and mashed banana. Disgusting snack that has ended up becoming my only meal.

A lack of food for the stomach, I decided to give me spiritual food. It was after getting lost in streets and alleys without getting strange find the London Bridge, which I finally managed to get to take a view of Tower Bridge and the Tower of London. I've been in Southwark Cathedral, very nice, where people pray as a group of school children listened intently to their guide, who then has dressed some of the Small deacons, or something. People have always needed foreign aid, something that makes us trust and not feel alone. Sometimes we used to rely on family, friends, the couple, but in these times of disbelief God seems to have re-emerged, perhaps because this time of crisis.

Here also there, and people need help. The church (here), he knows, and so there is usually a place to let their parishioners to write their prayers. Most call themselves, for their sick relatives or in memory of those who are gone. I would have liked to put a picture, but in Salisbury Edu upbraided me it was a gossip, so they stuck in wishes of the faithful, and Southwark Cathedral have to ask permission to take pictures that you are granted upon payment of three pounds and half. I am very respectful of the rules, anyone who knows me knows that, and I do not mind paying to see a church. In fact, I have made a voluntary donation, but paying for the photos to me seems absurd. Or you can or can not. Even so, I pulled a backroom. Not the prayers that could be placed on a board with post its, but one of those chips that are driving me crazy. This time, as well as in every chair in the church, had this very curious on the wall of a chapel



Yes, is the author of music as "Oklahoma", "Sound of Music" and "The King and I". And many may not know, but also the legendary "You'll never walk alone" Liverpool's popular song, which seems strange to think that comes from a musical, something not too heterosexual and testosteronizada as fĂșmbol.

Then I followed the banks of the Thames to get to the Tate Modern, where I have given the world of audio guides and enigmatic works. Now speak of my contradictions about art, but I do not want and I am also doing some shopping and attend a theater matinee, which is the theater ie two-thirty in the afternoon, something highly absuuurda, my friend would say Unai.