To be perfectly sure that the competition in Rome was a real hoax I thought it appropriate to leave Monday and return Tuesday to make the second tragic competition , except that it 'is time, since the seats were only 2, the dairy product was much more evident.
Two are in fact the archivists that serve the entire free banana republic, and it is clear that in order to choose the best you have to ask equivalences, functions, fractions, number sequences and various other platitudes rather than the fundamentals of the conservation documentary.
Okay, that's okay. Moreover
imagined it, and if Mary was to go live this pre-selection tests, I say here with a conscience that will have been only a big huge ass massive stroke.
Leaving is always a good thing anyway.
Geri and John have opened the door as usual and even the sofa bed, where, as this summer, my unconscious has fished in the depths of my mind the most hidden things and people almost forgot to revive them in an agitated dream.
Monza there .. no, there were no degrees at all.
was cold, cold, cold out around me and within me .. every internal organ vibrated with frost and Christmas present everywhere in the corners of the city, and a pint of hot chocolate are barely enough to warm the stomach for 10 minutes.
It 's true, though, that sometimes when one is content just seems to freeze the secondary, and pizza with artichokes and bacon becomes the discovery of the year.
The circumnavigation of the villa of Silvio, speeches disillusioned mother of a future, hope that somewhere sooner or later someone is to give meaning to decades spent studying, in the end all there was in the right measure, and all could stay there.
people of Naples who works hoping to "get off" a day before the distance from the sea's physical weakness and the heart, people who live in Milan and runs just to warm up, people who go to a competition and is run out of the meter without any apparent reason, along with all the others ..
I find myself running along with all other companions stop unconscious and indolent, who sleep underground, read the newspaper, listen to music, rise, fall and hope to not be late, but hope that perhaps even more so to keep within him the warmth of the car closed.
I find myself responding to 100 questions in an hour and groped the Brain, and I find myself back on a plane.
I find myself at home again, 15 degrees, the conscience "archival" in place and the pocket "monetary" lean.
I left my traveling companion at home with his traveling companion and I went walking up to look into the eyes even the north wind that will get in my way.
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