Mexicanas Follando En La Alberca

RINO HELLO, GOOD sixtieth birthday!


Who knows how to clothe Rino Gaetano today. Cylinder and rod are evergreen that would do their scene in sixty years, indeed well liked and a Petrolini Buscaglione, two idols of the young boy who emigrated from Calabria to Rome. Yes, because today the "one-child brother" of the Italian song to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. If a bloody dawn on the front Nomentana not if it were taken away, twenty-nine years ago, Rino would still be there to laugh at ourselves, of self and others and with poetic irony to tell us what will happen in a couple of decades. Yes, because he, modern society has already described and sung in the seventies. There seem anachronistic ways these? "To you who hate politicians imbrillantinati that minimize their crimes, willing to fuck up everything just to save their worldly dignity" or "Blessed is the war, those who do and those who settle, but still more blessed is the war when is holy. "
's so far from us the speculation of "manufactured homes" or indifference of the general "Nuntereggae more"? Rino perhaps knew that we must leave soon, and we imagined the world would come. Scratching and smiling, with a look at the past and a strong powers, looking into her eyes. "I will write about the world and its ugliness," he promised, and this did. Perhaps we can imagine her clothes, the bittersweet grimace, the look over. But it is rather risky to draw a profile of a hypothetical Gaetano sixty. Already in the last months of life had revealed a dislike for the discography that labeled as "jester" suspended between irony, satire and spontaneity. The deep intellectual honesty would not publish certain discs only "live", would never become a photocopy of an artist himself, sad, disappointed or sui generis as many of his colleagues, for the first close friend in 1980 from which Antonello Venditti already distanced. Some people see the "scourge", a sort of Beppe Cricket in music, who showman Gaber alternative to the south. According to the friend, Bruno Franceschelli, Rino would return to his first love: theater. He's probably right, who better knew the artistic ambitions and tensions in human. With society getting worse, the songs would not be sufficient to hold his arrows, the questions, the screams of pain and sneers. On the other hand had already anticipated the P2, which lobbies to come to an agreement economy, politics, entertainment, football and fashion. Maybe we would see the turn Tent with Paolo Rossi, Marco Travaglio, sharing the stage with or Sabina Guzzanti or whatever, is working on a grand musical about the history of Italy but ... all assumptions are only words, perhaps unnecessary. Dictated only by the desire to tell Rino that now more than ever, we miss someone like him who can make us laugh intelligence without taking itself too seriously, which makes us look ahead without fear and without losing sight of this. What remains to do is take an old vinyl (much better than fiction anthology remixed or heartless) and start to listen to it again. If we were to materialize before us a young gentleman of a certain age, with bowler hat and cane, we would not have nothing else to say except "Hello, Rino."

Beach Volleyball Game For Psp

Untitled

Breast Cancer Thank You Cards

BOYS SCHOOL FOOTBALL MEET THE ORPHAN OF "MAMA ANAKUJA"


emotion and joy for the second event organized by Malindikenya.net and Kenya Football Academy to bring together the realities of young people in Malindi supported by the "Mzungu" with the school football Karibuni-Genoa. After Hearts Children's Home last week, Saturday was the turn of the orphanage of Mama Anakuja Muyeye run by the legendary "Mama" Liliana. The kids of Mama Anakuja spent a day together with our young players, confronting and absorbing the philosophy of football school (education + discipline as a foundation for the sport of the group), while boys of Genoa Youth whenever people are confronted with as they will help but not lucky enough to have parents. Coach Ben Ouma before and Freddie Del Curatolo then explained what unites the social projects of Malindi, speaking from the heart. Then the challenge! Young people Muyeye have been an awkward young rossoblu to strong, led by captain and striker Eugene Janja. Unlike previous reviewers, who lost 5-0, Mama Anakuja has finished 1-1 for the first time and then yield in the second game of village, aided by a great free-kick and a break of Eugene Janja (two for him). In memory of the great day, which was also attended by two "supporters" rossoblu details (Geo and Donatella, Ligurian Andora, but they claim are genoani Mama Anakuja years) the most beautiful picture is the joy of very young children, arrived Muyeye support from friends of the orphanage, that the equalizer were reversed in the field performing in celebratory somersaults. Wonderful. The Saturday afternoon social will continue in the coming weeks. An educational and entertaining show that fills the soul with satisfaction. As one great: "Freedom is participation."

Thank You A Dental Hygienist

SONG: Nakupenda


My woman has a dog deaf that speaks with his eyes
She asked him with my heart / when is the day that unless
who carry it far away where the sky has no roads
where the horizon waiting to tickle the sea

My woman has broad shoulders / back straight and fatigue and boredom
It confuses sleep / with the evils of life
Every so ashamed of that bit ' Invented
stagnating in the dreams and do not want to leave

But take her hands in a relaxed air

Where the sun looks in the face
And people talk plan

But take her hands
Among outlines of things
Where the world knows how to die at the end of each day


My woman has a cat idiot / salt on the shoulder
She looks at him with mouth / to confirm
that will take away where the wind
has no name Where the nature of fate and love laughs

But take her hands
on carpets of gold and silver
Where does the soul
shadow and light gets inside you

But take her hands
Among the outlines of things
Where the world knows reborn
beginning of each day

Nakupenda wewe

(Freddie, 2005)

How To Watch Banbros For Free

FREDDIE BECCIONI: ROME, obstinacy ARCHITECT AND THE PIG MAREMMA


If in life you can afford to sweat through the intermediary of an imbecile, all expenses paid to travel and also download the defects, thanks to creative accounting, not only Rome can be worth a lot, but also a long weekend.
fact besides myself, we can meet almost all the parliamentarians of this Republic of Papaye (some would say "banana", but the difference is substantial: aString bananas, papaya and laxative). Your
Beccioni, since Saturday afternoon when the pathetic Baglioni begged him not to go fuck a bird, it is produced in the course of cosmic futility that led him to attend the Rome-Genoa.
Advance of little value, boring and apathetic waiting room of the meeting of the season: Genoa Grosseto-Italy Cup. Because we, this year, the Italian Cup is held there, eccheccazzo!
Saturday evening of shit, trafficking of the ring at Ostia, on the gray porch of piss fascists where life is a slap in the face of a Romanian. To go to the Olympic Stadium
Caput Mundi less cocaine in the air you breathe in Piazza Argentina. Solita Dalwhinnie
half bowl sit in the stands before the world as far away from the field and then, how'd you know very well.
Heartburn.
Gasptrite.
not speak of the race, however you came in on us too, dear friends.
I, if I can, I'd rather go somewhere else. The parade continues in the useless
tavern Testaccio (by Nando Puzzone er), Tarquinia ordinary quaffing a Red Monti della Tolfa, ideal for the lamb chops, but not to rinse away the memory of Palacio quarterback. Rome has never eaten badly (so drunk), but to do the tourist gourmet de mortacci them yours, you lose forever.
How do visitors the ball at the Olimpico.
On the other hand, in the capital, is so easy to load a Russian girl to shove me in a little place jazz and try to bring the maid to bed, Two Women. Results will close at six in the morning, tongue in her mouth and invitation to go on eating Nomentana maritozzi hot from Alfio.
The waitress is nice but, like Rino Gaetano is an only child and she is convinced that Leo Messi can not go to Frost, whose team is rooting for. Rino Gaetano
Roman era and was sympathetic to Genoa, the waitress confirmed it to me.
Only fans in the world does not know. And he sings his songs. I ask
Checco Moriero, new coach and former frusinate of Grosseto.
He says he has stopped.
"Even him?"
her back home. Slinguazzata already more passionate.
If tomorrow I insist, I end up the loaned armored.
Sometimes I like ordinary adventures. The 442
of sexual conquest.
Awakening afternoon with language plush and soft as the pace of Kharja.
useless, Sunday, they face more than Papale, there would be so many things to do than I have chosen the most gasperiniana all.
Coliseum? But we are mad? Trivial and popular as the 4231, we want to recognize?
Fori Imperiali? Circus Maximus? Palatine? How old you are, stuff like a bolt or a maximum of us off guard ... we innovate, we rise.
On the advice of Palma, the waitress Two Women, I chose to go to the Museum Maxxi, a journey in the architecture of the late twentieth century.
young but not young soldiers in the pay to surf masters the art of building, architectural fake revolutionaries who sell themselves and give up the plan of Terni and Crotone.
Yes, I like it! Meanwhile Dalwinnie 16 years that goes down is a pleasure, watching 'is rubbish and postmodern thinking about the game the day before, and I do not feel the need to do as Kenny Rogers in the song Mona Lisa, who came at night in the Louvre to bring in Italy Gioconda but ended up pulling the keeper and massacre sganassoni Leonardo's work with the nails.
Right there in front of a vision-like Fuksas, I think the recurrence of high modernism is no longer Gasp, but stubborn need to leave a mark different, unique architecture, which may go down in history short and colorless in the Third Millennium. Fuck
modern architecture in Rome. We leave to Caesar what is Caesar's.
Maxxi Museum will look good in Rovigo, in Brescia, in Latin. But in the Eternal City is absurd.
A little 'as, in the cradle of football, want to bring only applicable methods by unknown automata.
How can we reduce the emotional potential of those who wear the shirt to rossoblu Ferraris, a cold patterns and chains tactics? No wonder then when you kick distant fields are scared and disoriented.
How nice not to have a dick to do in Rome.
I feel rejuvenated, I have twenty years of Zuculini, and the same desire to break the world ... if not at least one person! Instead I get thoughtful and kind, I come home in the port of Palma and out to dinner in mejo local Parioli, then she brings me in a bad place to Fleming and ends that slip easily, as Borriello. Monday
are already anxious about, the great challenge lies and birth early, around ten o'clock in the morning, at a time of Grosseto.
I have to measure their will, what has felt the challenge.
lunchtime. I'm at Frantoio Capalbio. A historical site if you have not been honorably cocks are yours, but where you find a restaurant-pub in the middle of Maremma in which pecks at the table said a director, a cowboy, an art critic, a failed songwriter, a tissue, a farmer, an electrician, a repentant thief, a Florentine noblewoman, a retired lifeguard and Checco Moriero?
Good grief! The owner of Inter Ado, a character from a pure neo-realism, I guzzle croutons, wild boar sausages and cheese in the oven. I drink a great hunt Plan, cabernet from Bolgheri and wonder if the tissue would come Wednesday in Genoa.
"To see the Grosseto?" Asks the herdsman.
"Sure," I say suddenly, without a belch from wild boar.
The woman nods, including the repentant robber and a retired lifeguard.
"It makes the truckload! Come on you so you thou hast! "
" Yes ... but I'm leaving tomorrow ... "
" And do we care? You go to see Genoa! "Barks the woman.
I was screwed. But it happens here, Maremma pigs. Checco
Moriero screen ... you did not expect to find many of the ultras Grosseto to the mill.
"Forza Grifone" screams the electrician, raising his glass.
"Forza Grifone" repeat, and do not understand. Yeah ... even
Grosseto, like us and Perugia, the Gryphon as a symbol.
I had never noticed.
Moriero grabs the Florentine noblewoman (ecco!), respectfully salutes and leaves.
"Checco! - The vent - Wednesday the company do? "The curls
turns.
"Eh ... maybe ... I'd love to play at the Meazza ..."
Fuck! Motivation!
pretend to retreat to the bathroom and telephone to my knowledge in society.
"Tell Gasp must deploy a decent education, wants to qualify Moriero"
"Do not worry - calm me - Sculli will own"
I am very calm. They do not have Dalwhinnie, but Ado takes me on the table a bottle of Caol Ila 18. Cabbages her. The tissue
gives me at least the evening (one thousand euro including a couple of gifts in boutiques Orbetello) and dinner at Osteria del Lupacante spectacular, the best soups around the Argentario.
Tuesday afternoon, a large shipping of Marassi wins the Maremma, with the loser if you loaded them all into the car and hosting them at a hotel in Nervi, who still thinks the waitress Two Women.
Trash Travel: lonzetta boars stracchino Sorano, pecorino cheese, bread and Maremma Morellino di Scansano "The superintendent Reserve".
Zuculini owner, everything else counts for little.
As it goes, we'll know soon.
The rest is modern architecture in the Temple, is little respect for history, is the obstinacy of the darkest before the flow of things. Other
you preach, that ostentatious optimism, the true Genoa in October, the real Genoa Genoa in November ... the real thing to do? Vivacchiare the left side?
That to me is a fake Genoa, Genoa is not true. Better
the Maremma, which never made the mystery of being pigs.

Where Can I Order Katydids

book for poems illustrated book for

Vip222k And External Hard Drive

Pinnacle Pctv Mac Software

Milan and operational plans

Cordusio @ Milano Piazza
Originally uploaded by . Sammytd

traffic of Milan 8 at night made us desist from going to see the Dali exhibition. At this point we hope to succeed in the near future that counting should remain a good deal '.

expectations disappointed me a bit negative 'mood but there are now well past.

Meanwhile I am thinking seriously of starting a blog dedicated to Japanese restaurants, which is not something new but at least do an exaggeration to vent my passion for sushi and Eleanor.

Im 13 Where Can I Buy Dildo

Excuse me, where the line starts? Dali

Excuse me, where the line starts? Dali
Originally uploaded by . Sammytd

Tomorrow evening, if everything goes smoothly I should go to the Royal Palace to see the exhibition dedicated to Salvador Dali entitled "The dream is near." The exhibition on Thursday is expected to close on 22.30, so I should have time to visit with calm and patience before the dinner. Dinner based on what you do not know yet, but tomorrow should come to me for some ideas.

Sunday, Eleanor and I had made a feeble attempt to go visit him but the line outside the venue of the exhibition made us give up and made us finish the MySushi Rinascente to make a fun drink (with an expensive plum liqueur from 9 € for 20cl) and a stroll on level -1 of Rinascente with its design objects you spellbound.

Need Help Tracking My Period

a minute's silence


A minute of silence for the Italian soldiers who had decided to earn his bread in a manner according to their proper, manly and full of allowances and benefits that would have rewarded them of the risks and fears.
One minute for the dead at work who could not do anything else to do but had not found much to those who did not know that their work was dangerous, to those who did not know what was their job, those who had them there mandates, which had for a few days or who had a life.
A minute's silence for the victims of rapes in the home and garage, for accomplices, the conniving, the harmless and innocent.
One minute for those who have been killed twice, the second interview, a news report, a live broadcast.
A minute's silence for the strangled wives, girlfriends killed with a hammer, mothers murdered with a knife, the fathers with a shot gun, the children that has been denied a marriage that they just wanted them.
One for those who are exploited by their own brothers and who until the last thought he had a brother, a relative, a fellow citizen.
A minute's silence for dogs invested in the road, investors massacred, poisoned animals and humans trained. A minute's silence for foreigners beaten, victims of extra-horny or drunk, for the occupied territories, the criminalized innocent, criminals under suspicion.
A minute of silence for the temporary license, the downtrodden workers, employees taken for a ride even by the unions. A minute's silence for the victims of medical malpractice, the organized crime, disease legalized the prescription drugs and doctors stressed. A minute of silence for the forgotten pensioners, young people committed suicide, the lovers looted.
For the coffins empty benches at school without a name and faces wrapped in cold sheets.
A minute of silence for those who suffer injustice, corruption, coercion, pressure. One for the wars of religion. For
moral blackmail, the threatened virtual world are persecuted and unfortunate reality.
a minute for those who are fed to newspapers, to sharks, or pearls before swine.
A minute of silence for those who die alone and for those who lived alone until just before he died.
Every day a day of silence would not be enough to silence, and before we would feel desperately all the same.
Small, scared, selfish, screaming humans just waiting the moment when someone asks a minute of silence for them.
is what is our life: one minute.

Best Yellow Toned Foundation

The Kenyan Grifoncino DERBY AND THEIR INFINITE


football, sometimes, makes you think that between Africa and Liguria then there are these big differences. Even in Malindi, for example, there is a derby, and here the opponents of the Kenyan Grifoncino is originally from a suburb of the city, which is called Shela. The team of young
Shela called Myfem and, until last year, was the most traded reality of youth in the province.
The first derby, played two weeks ago, seemed to have confirmed this leadership, Myfem had beaten 3-1 in the Genoa Karibuni Malindi, behind him only a few friendlies and even denounced adjustment problems of boys. Just as the greatest of Genoa in Italy, so many new faces that are still needed to know.
After the defeat against Gede healthy stuffed quota, and encouraging two draws, the great day of revenge has arrived: Mr. Ben Ouma has uploaded the boys to training has come a fan of Chiavari, Genoa player on vacation, Mauro Fogola with two children who wear vests and Rossi Criscito.
So the derby begins: Captain Eugene takes his hand and organize the team the game, Janja is elusive on the band (although sometimes it's a bit 'too much of his head) and Fahad Abdullah, tall and strong that the centravantino already friends call "Lucatoni," makes its way through the cracks of the "cousins" of Myfem. The match, however, is in perfect balance until it is the captain Eugene (a Talentino a happy life, at least in continental Europe) to achieve a precise diagonal, after tail-Fahad and Passing Mwangemi. It 'a real football, which moves for its purity and innocence, the desire to chase a dream that rolls along with a ball and sometimes you can not come true, illuminating and ephemeral as the smile of a child in Africa after a goal or fulfilling and enduring, like the victory of the hardest game in these parts, that of a decent living just above the poverty line.

Hodgkins Lymphoma Rash

BECCIONI FREDDIE: ROSARIO, AND THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE PONTETTO Pierflavio


The news of the mysterious disappearance of Pierflavio has taken everyone by surprise.
All except me, I'm leaving the stadium whistling, riding his scooter. Esterina
Zia failed to stretch the dough as you have the lasagna and the rumenta her husband made a pesto of shit. I was convinced that he did not care much about that as a child came out wrong TORCETTO Biella in a box of strike-breakers to Casale.
For a week no news from him.
girlfriend, with whom now you could see through the intermediary of i-phone only on Facebook, believed to be in a military training camp of the Movement Five Stars, the broker friend has asked him back because it's impossible to find vinyl music "prog" of the seventies, the company's Irish pub swears that neither of the Matteotti Rapallo or the O'Donaghy Dublin. He remains the only
Pontetto. There
step just before the game, hoping to avoid being recognized by my detractors. I only do it as a favor to the two old men who have always treated me like a son. My brother is an only child.
They asked me almost crying to investigate where it could be done.
Any idea I would have. An old guy never grew up like him, must be hidden not too far from here. It is not the type to leave his Zena, and do not have enough imagination to go beyond the narrow confines of the satellite.
Surely it is disappointed and saddened, as any coach after a 5-0 defeat when they can not even appeal to the bad luck, the arbitrator or the two owners of gastroenteritis.
My cousin had the first hit in June with the confirmation of Gasperson, then pass the fans, no transfer of Sculli. Finally, the blasphemy of Berlusconi the other day, must have definitely put KAPPAO. There are people brutalized
to Pontetto, among which seems to do their Omoni all to no ends meet, others that "Genoa for us that we are in the bottom of the countryside" and boys who laugh as if they always knew to be fellow citizens of Paolo Villaggio. It
imbenzinano of draft beer from two cents and belch in the face of the Gryphon judgments on the presidency, and the majority of the Gaspensiero rossoblu fans, who have only demerit to believe it. Eventually even the males, Pontetto here to have a smile as you wish each other well. I pull out half-liter bottle of mineral water from San Benedetto, which I filled with Dalwhinnie, and shredded mercilessly.
I also get a barrel on the sly. I would give my eye if I refuse. I
expression gaia type idiot staring arrived yesterday from Kenya.
a joint, you think. Last Morgan had offered me a gig in Abruzzo, where he sang in the style of Marillion De Andrè. Seeking
, eavesdropping on the conversations of the Pontifical Pontetto, to perceive something. There must have been a migration, because it lacks only Pierflavio, is said to have given lump sum after tens of years even Zapatista intellectuals, immigrants of Chinese rice, the former punk-rocker bald, historical resistance bridge Carrega and industrious mice grifoteca .
The card's fan in his right hand, "We genoani" in the left, I make my grand entrance into the North.
It 's the first year that I set foot there, I have always loved to see the choreography or the tribune distinct from sucking on a candy, but this year seems less livable and choreography. Incidentally are the Gryphon, mica Nureyev ... What a beauty! I am not obliged to make any choir, there are no glares at me, I meet him also two of my high school classmates, who at the time cheering Juventus.
Genoa-Bari is about to begin in a quasi-atmosphere: the stadium is almost full, the fielding side is almost what I want, the pitch is almost impassable, I am almost lost.
breathe fresh air and grass of home again. Whistle in Ventura, the Gaspallecoperte ovation.
Hashish is not a nice to alcoholics, in first twenty minutes I seem to see a strangely unbalanced Genoa forward, albeit subject to the game of Bari and I find it technically impossible. Dalwhinnie
I finish but unfortunately I get another whiff of Pakistan in the face.
then went ahead and increased my confusion, because finally now playing in Bari counter as if he won, and that I find absolutely amazing! Ahaha, but what happens? I have fun! I also support him on the shoulder of my neighbor looking at me as if I were Lele Mora. Nor is it attractive as a Fabrizio Corona!
I'm really out, boys, discordant and uncoordinated movements and thoughts, like a cupboard in a trullo. The only advantage is that only now (it will be the drug or the North?) fully understand the game Gasperini! The effect, however, still rocking, in fact I am convinced to see that, after a draw and be left us with ten men, the Bari backlog of more than the center of gravity, the stuff of comic books! Haha I'm like ... we put in ten without a player in his original role that we have made under the numerical superiority in Bari, physics and the rationality of those who have always played a 442 with high wings. Bonino God, I feel better than Mimmo Dani Alves, Rafinha makes me enjoy Mesto seems more haunted me, think Chico is playing another game but not play badly and win especially when you finally break Veloso and enters Milanetto. The North exploded in full recovery, and I also do two drops of pee in excitement! What a journey I did! The great heart of Genoa has made me forget all the suffering, the flaws and the hardships that I have ever had. But rather a preventive than a memory forgotten fake, right? I live in the present, we do not want to make the nostalgic, not I want to miss this show as a matter of principle! Gryphon always! While
extension before the Little Club, approached me a very sinister, with a leather jacket and graying long hair tied at worst. A metropolitan
fucking apache.
"You are Beccioni?"
Shit. I escaped it.
This is not the present, is the recent past which pursues me.
Courage.
"Yes, dear, in person ..."
"Beautiful song ... and you too, as a metaphor are not evil" Fuck
. According to me you've never tasted the Caroni.
Metaphor is your sister and if I bring it here, I'll also see the inside half.
smile.
"Thank you brother! Until next time ... "
starts to leave and I try.
"Play-by-case ... you know what happened to my cousin Pierflavio?"
moves faster, as he had not heard.
Then he turns and smiles.
Shake a hand.
"Rosaaarioooo!" I scream with the expression dell'oritteropo in the breeding season.
"Nooo, Pierflavioooo!" I say.
"Ahahahaaaa"
What the fuck you laugh, an anachronism!
The next time I drink the beers of the fucking Pontetto, I shoot three guns one after another and within the stadium convinced to attend Genoa-Montevarchi.
It seems that the spirit is good.
Other than the camel, but 'I'm fucking whiskey.
Maybe it's the old subservience that turns into new resistance.
What the fuck should I do to invent their own happiness, Sunday after Sunday ...
Fuck!
toast victory of the Gryphon, and the Spirit! What Pierflavio
lost and that the friend of the gay longhair.
Rosario.