Thursday, December 11, 2008

Paint Colors Of Bunk Beds

comes to mind Habib
















squola The flight, after a promising start, has threatened to close its doors.
Blame the recession.
recession of the mind in the deep ravines.
Negative sign of the GDP of the stimulus.
Amnesia and distractions.
Risk of default, the word terrorifica markets for creative financing. Failure. The term creative
gives me pretty boring, like a pimple on the ass. Bores me so creative cuisine. With tastes strange, odd mandatory, it is easy to hide flaws. Who can say that behind the recipe thaitiana not hide a filthy botched?
Who wants to challenge me to do it with the homemade ravioli. Not with the creative crap.
However, the danger, Aihm, is not entirely removed.
too few students in the flight were distracted. They did not understand, finally, before putting his hand to the yoke, we must study the theory, be prepared for the board.
Lesson, and also critical of what the instructor he says.
Attend lectures.
And my room was miserably empty.
But there are no bad students, only bad instructors.
So should I assume my responsibilities.
Today, however, a sign.
After a long night at work this morning, already in my pajamas, I went out to the balcony, wool hat stuck over his ears, warm coffee and cigarette.
simply watched the rain fall.
not think about anything.
Then, suddenly, Habib.
I tried all summer to remember the name of the exchange on fifth street, Abu Dhabi, where he worked Noemi.
There was no way. I would not have written about Naomi, then.
Habib Exchange. I got it. Well it
a segnetto. Maybe I write maybe.

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