Excedrin Pm's And Meloxicam

We work with clay and with dreams

Puta ... many things. Some time ago I've been wanting to write and I found a short time with a sense of urgency about other things. And at times suspicious of this format because it seems very hard-fought case and the authenticity and sincerity, as if one show here teatrero something half as inauthentic, just spontaneous ... I like writing
M, why not think and the result is charming. Or maybe he thinks of the mad stash before writing and I'm fresh eggs, and all do the same. Well, I should think so, but overall I think it seems less. Although in any case already or write, that is folin in lov, ashi ...

saw a being from another planet that is my son in a light screen perched on a 11-story tower ... from far away, or so I'm sorry, but it comes close enough to see that it is humanoid . It is a humanoid that word .. it is rare, all finished in oid is something false or incomplete. In this case it is the latter.
moves, at times surprisingly ..! is a human being. Reminds me of the homunculus or the painting "The Scream" Munch. Then I took a photo of the front and is for tattoo Chascón: pure skull.
We call it "the speck" when he was just a spot report that beat, like a primitive heart. Now it seems a Martian and we call it, and with some love, "Rena", short for tadpole. Although what has the past few days is to look funny, but serious in the third person, a "watermelon", by the look begins to offer the package, ie the batting that contains it. Whore

have complicated things ...
lot of work this year as ever.
wanted a house with Cecilia, and we got to get one.
At first she wanted an apartment, for fear that thieves visits and it seems safer.

I did not want, because I like land and square Depas are like children, oppressive over time. She is frightened, but I believe that crime is part of the landscape and that there queh 'tar saw no ma, broder, ashi ...
not always just that, but, not wanting to be reckless, you can not live in fear of danger. If the world is as messy, and large cities that I know have always been.
The issue is that after much searching (left with eyes full of houses), we found one where we agree and JUA!
The Money fuckin puts the bank, which has a beautiful name ("Santander"). It sounds as elegant as the name of port or something. In other words, has a name that is as a surname.
Not content with silver lend the bank required me to make me their client. That's pretty special, because I thought that if I were paying money for a house and was a customer. Especially considering that if I meet them I do pebre, I may even jail after taking my house, furniture and soul.
The fact is that I put as a condition bound with them, and now I have a checkbook, checking account and a set of plastic cards and a line of credit.

weas a handful of which have never needed, never asked and I consider more of a piece.

But are there in a drawer.

Then on top I have to pay a monthly fee. It is not so high, but the bleeding is continuing. Finally, I consulted with my father, an old fox and tanning in these conflicts, which blew me can not legally force me to "customer" for years to life of the loan for the house, which was what I had told my executive, so I think hold the story a year maximum, and gate pescao chao.
not trust my executive. In reality you can not trust them. And advertising
other financial institution, Atlas, said, "someone I can trust" pffffffffff ... ..!
Anyway.
This time of year is bittersweet for me next summer, but you have to find sticks for another year. In good weather, but accelerating the rhythm of change no time. Not to mention the wear of the annual cycle phase enters peak, that is all tired and wanting to slit pure go on vacation. There is little, but at the same you want it to end, and wea lengthens. Pffffffffffff
again jajajajaja =)
seems to be walking Zen. Day and look at the sounds, the details in the leaves of trees, in the rhythm of breathing and the sound of the sea. Sport, I do sports, I hurt the body's muscles, not your head no more.
The Internet, at the time of year when most needed is operating as the loly. Murphy's Law.

flat I have the Pokemon and reggaeton. And the telethon. TV more than the ton. Non-Windows I dislike the TV in general. The whole meeting and frivolous and fooooomeeeeeess pajaronas ..!
already started with the untimely considerations ...
My mother, my poor mother ... is a red cable to the center of the earth. The death and misery, tattered life in a body that ages and love the background, burn. Life begins to say goodbye to her, she delivers the stolen minutes, discounts, and she has never been more expressive and cheerful, perhaps we have never been so close. And run clockwise. Pulse. The pulse of the world makes me grind their teeth and scream silently: I devour everything ... my mother goes out, my son moving on and I run a cosmic dynamo, like a shipwreck at sea, with no chance but instinctively clinging to hope and lucidity.


The man is crazy. Yesterday was no medical supervision and Ronnie said that the tadpole is male. It has no name yet. I wanted a girl, but he is welcome as well.
I know because I wanted a girl. Amazon wanted to raise a princess. This reading atrophy Quixotiz head and one jajajajaja ... However I have to raise, what?, A dandy, I suppose. Or something. So you have to know first to put a name. No rush.
C wants to baptize him. For the Catholic Church understood.

I'm not there.

respect to persons professing that religion (I also militates her child by tradition and culture), but I see no reason to register there to goat boy. Religion is a matter of responsible choices, I think. If not for what, po! ... If we celebrate the birth of a significant and symbolic ceremony and a feast with family and friends. End of story.


People have written me and I am glad that you have done and intend to see in person in the short to medium term: Checha Quinteros (take a look around here; Checha!), Marcela Cubillos, PP Benavides. Thank you, graduates. I have not vouch for that work has kept me away from the key, but greetings and blessings to all. Thanks to Carlos for his comments, a regular reader of long standing.

I'll play with dirt again at last!

Flucillin Sinus Infection

Cruising Speed \u200b\u200b

In November last year my mom got sick. A thrombus or blood clot stuck in a vein near his brain and making irrigation obstructed lose consciousness. A stroke or thrombosis, they call it. When he awoke unable to move or speak. It was a Saturday afternoon when I received a phone call from a cousin who got me current. It was evening, and cache that was time that I had been thinking for some time. The next day I went early to Rancagua, the city of shit that carries me and my friend loves Chopa, each of the two with their own reasons. I had to bancármela nearly 20 years.

Since then I've been close to it as I could and I went to visit it every fortnight. The first month and a half I went every week and stayed several days. As fate would have a very dear aunt and a cousin who has proven to be an angel has taken charge of it, for it can not be alone and bring him to where I live would put in an uncomfortable situation, she, who never wanted to leave home. I abandoned the idea of \u200b\u200bstudying abroad because it could not go for long letting. And it is both miss it as you feel it is my responsibility, or at least I know she would not have been less if I had been in his situation. He recovered well, but will never be the same. His right arm was broken and lost the ability to speak. Transmits creek, equal, but is not understood anything. Spoke in a jargon-vowel syllables Wave Tototatetototototutoto ...", and you should try to cache that wave. In return his mood improved and is more cheerful, as more relaxed, she was tougher than the supermarket avocado ... Also (do not know why) did not want more hair dyed or dressed, as if he had said as the song of Alvaro Henríquez "alashushesumaaaa ...". At least now controls sphincter, which is a great thing, and walk on his own, ordering things, sets the table and eat and go to the bathroom alone. But it is not independent. He had to go and live with my aunt in a tiny apartment, and our house was inhabited only by tenants of the remaining parts, which are as reliable and good care. When I'm there, I do it in almost 20 years that was my part. At night I light the fire of the salamander, I walk home and feel full of memories and ghosts of the past. It Cuatic.

The garden is just dirt and weeds grown in pots. They cut the vine and the grape vines are emaciated and half withered. All is quiet. The good thing is that she is well within their means, where it is. Do not want to leave the depa, and his head is the color of the garlic. With glasses and short hair has an air of Andy Warhol. On Saturday we were in the car with Cecilia and the idea was to get her out for a walk. I did not want, I had to forcibly take; already weas nothing, you will not be locked the rest of your life here .... let me scratched, but finally I got the same no more, put it in the car and we went for a walk to Lo Miranda, a village near Ranchi where we had a summer home when I was a child. The town is not the same. The streets are paved and everything looks more urbanized. But I find the ways and was pleased; mom was happy and enjoyed it too.

When I buy tickets in the terminal, or when I'm third with a doorman told me ""..." Young, Young", "Good morning, young man," You're young "... and me laugh.

I'm not young. The future of my youth is gone. I am an adult, a man. Full of contradictions, uncertainties and ghosts. Intense rage, alert, with a hidden child. Like everyone else. Old age is just around the corner. The aging and death. And I'm running: my mother's smile tells me so. No hope, no sadness, so no more. Must be good if it is. It was dust and dust return soon, within a few years. Meanwhile squeeze the life. Both squeeze the shit I took a bike recently, but I like my scars. I sit on the crest of the wave but the mirror every morning whispers "Memento mori ...".

That's your enemy, the son of a bitch. A part of him.

Rubbermaiddrainer 8354

To Marica Anonymous firebrand of

This song is dedicated to the firebrand Marica Anonymous (That's your name, right?). For you, weon, yes, for you, no, not just for you, or for you to enjoy it or suffer in bad, for the whole team and SQP LUN and shit like, especially for the enemies of life, for the envious and firebrand for the intriguing tale tellers to these plebeian souls that seek the mote in your neighbor's eye without seeing the beam in your own from the comfortable position that provides anonymity and impunity. That resonates in your ears and inwhichthe in his memory.

But also good for my friends, for my wife and for all who are full of faults but they are still good people even if they make mistakes, so you chopitos, friend for you, Dr. Patrick, enemy of man and apprentice commoners like me to Rojas my friend, my father, David, Manuel and Polaf, for Maricza, for Bolocco and Bachelet.

And you, Marica, listen well and accompany it with a cyanide soup.

A salute to the warriors for life. Endurance, and great Ruben. For

pavuncios: you must click on the image to see the video pa.