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to speak when I pulled farts. If I wanted to train could be extremely funny to read "I have not been!" when I throw a fart particularly strong. And if I throw a fart particularly strong in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, which is outside of Paris, who is in France, obviously my anus would say, "Ce n'etais pas moi!" is translated by me from the language of Shakespeare to Cervantes, two writers who died the same day, which is the day of the book, which is ironic.

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My problem is the pulse. I can spend four hours updating the LiveJournal and reading my friendlist, and the friendlist of my friendlist ... And then spend a month without touching it at all. I can lose sleep time playing DS and then leave it lying around. I can spend months without reading a book and then read me a huge tochaco three days. I can jump ten episodes of Lost and then watch them all followed in a single night (is that this season is great).

I can also not engage in any new series from Heroes and now, suddenly, hooked to two in a row. For FNL cool, and Jericho too. In fact I parked FNL to watch Jericho because I'm that turncoat. But I've downloaded 18 episodes and I have seen almost one after

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Your class, your caste, your country, sect, your name or your tribe
There's people always dying trying to keep them alive
There are bodies decomposing in containers tonight
In an abandoned building where

A squatter's made a mural of a Mexican girl
With fifteen cans of spray paint in a chemical swirl
She's standing in the ashes at the end of the world
Four winds blowing through her hair

But when great Satan's gone, the whore of Babylon
She just can't sustain the pressure where it's placed
She caves

The Bible's blind, the Torah's deaf, the Qu'ran's mute
If you burn them all together you get close to the truth still
They are pouring over sanskrit on the ivy leaguemoons
While shadows lengthen in the sun

Cast on a school of meditation built to soften the times
And hold us at the center while the spiral unwinds
It's knocking over fences, crossing property lines
Four Winds, cry Until it comes

One year and three days younger than me and already has nine albums on the market. The ninth is out today and already two songs I have come to the jugular.

I hate you, Conor Oberst.

another year.

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Come, I confess that I liked 300. Mola visually and conceptually, is spectacular and I do not remember having been so long time without looking at the films that I had lost, at various times I had chills on the back and I left the theater wanting to kill people (if anyone Wii is the game of spades, YA Let me know.) But the movie has some moments worthy of comment ...

Beware of spoilers, but none are very overweight may spoil parts of the film.

The Spartans are trained from an early age with a single purpose: to be good looking without a shirt. Spartan babies are screened at birth, if they have any indication that they will not be handle dC Moment "obvious criticism" of the film:
- I know people like you, you are of those who send people to war just to get rich.

And one final question: Imagine you are a race of disfigured and horrible beings, by twist of fate, take advantage of the many attractive women to do with them whatever you want. The question is: why the hell would you inbred??

Gay Wrestler Singlets # # AUTOMATICALLY GENERATED MESSAGE

# This message is automatically generated 4 MONTHS NOT WRITE ANYTHING IN THE LJ #

Hello! I'm back! I'm still alive! Jo, did not write anything from # DATE LAST ITEM #. I had little time to get to this because hardly credible EXCUSE # # and I have had that SAD EXCUSE # DESIGNED TO GIVE PENALTY #

Today I woke up wanting to retake the LJ, so I redesigned the page # LJ HA RANDOMLY MODIFIED DESIGN OF THIS PAGE TO GIVE THE IMPRESSION THAT YOU ARE LOOKING AT YOUR READERS #, now I think is much nicer. Although good, I read most from your friendlist (mostly because I do not been deleted from the playlist to see how little I update). Anyway appreciate entrarais and you only saw the design to see if you cool.

I intend to write more often # LJ IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR COMPLIANCE WITH THIS STATEMENT # and tell you interesting things # # THIS DOES NOT

soon! # # CAN NOT BE TRUE

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Moved to: tujes.blogspot.com

I moved to: tujes.blogspot.com

I moved to: tujes.blogspot.com

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Constantly walking through the rooms of my apartment, smoking and binge drinking more than usual, which was not little. Every so often, I approached the window and watched the rain and the streets deserted. I thought of my life lonely and difficult, in the disappearance of the will and how the memory fades over time and reduces pain but can not make them disappear. Tired, and without cigarettes, I lay on the couch, waiting for death that did not come, deaf to my calls and that both seemed to enjoy my torture.

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or time that he understood that the activity itself does not mean anything, much less be alive. And if not, he had only to look through the window, to realize that life must be something else.

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Walking through the gray city, or rather dragging their sadness and monotony, hardly looking up from the sidewalks washed by recent rain, his mind was illuminated by a sort of revelation: "You only know a woman when separated from it. " Reluctantly smiled, cocking her mouth and feeling the bitter taste of such ironic truth. With anger, kicked a stone, which, after hitting a tree, slipped through the open window of a ground floor. Ran, laughing like a naughty boy and wondering what more silly coincidences were given in life.

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Once, lying in bed and listening to the radio that sat on the bedside table next to, the following words came to my ears: "I always have to follow when one is not dead." I thought I was right until later, illuminated by a break in the painful burden of mental hazy monotony and successfully pursued me for a long time, I told myself (perhaps my subconscious): go to where. Since then, I try to remember the name of that type.

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Its glorious days as a successful actor had been forgotten by almost everyone. Now leaning on the bar of any bar, missed the past and tried to see his future, that he knew non-existent, eternal in the bottom of whiskey. No longer remained more than memories and drown bullfight in yellow alcohol, the devil in him.