Beating boredom is a grim struggle
I leave the bravest
I like when
myself getting bored and table at my feet my head almost asleep
Friday, March 4, 2011
Creative Sound Blaster(r) X-fi Mb
Deserter from boredom
Beating boredom is a grim struggle
I leave the bravest
I like when
myself getting bored and table at my feet my head almost asleep
Beating boredom is a grim struggle
I leave the bravest
I like when
myself getting bored and table at my feet my head almost asleep
The Symptoms Of Black Death
When we are old
When we get old, it will often cold. The old always gives the impression of being cold. The good weather we can not forget many things. We'll leave our troubles in the gray clouds of yesterday. I think that's what the old. The sun will dazzle us with much more intensity, and smiles widen and wrinkles. We have already quite a few wrinkles, but we will be more to a close. We'll be making white hair, with the help of our children and their children. So we think a little more to us, bringing us closer gradually ground.
Because the sky and the ground will form a pair and we will be in the middle. The sky will support with all his might to push us against the ground, and we try as best they could to keep us upright. And one day when the pressure is too high, rather than the sky and the ground we break into two, the sky burrowing under the earth. As if the lower part of the clamp is crushed. And all will be good to throw away. We, the clamp, and the crumbs that this scatter in the memories of others. When we get old we will live together. Like all old. Because all old and live. With the impression of having lived their entire lives in the middle of a clip that would have tried in vain to reduce to crumbs. 
When we get old, it will often cold. The old always gives the impression of being cold. The good weather we can not forget many things. We'll leave our troubles in the gray clouds of yesterday. I think that's what the old. The sun will dazzle us with much more intensity, and smiles widen and wrinkles. We have already quite a few wrinkles, but we will be more to a close. We'll be making white hair, with the help of our children and their children. So we think a little more to us, bringing us closer gradually ground.
Because the sky and the ground will form a pair and we will be in the middle. The sky will support with all his might to push us against the ground, and we try as best they could to keep us upright. And one day when the pressure is too high, rather than the sky and the ground we break into two, the sky burrowing under the earth. As if the lower part of the clamp is crushed. And all will be good to throw away. We, the clamp, and the crumbs that this scatter in the memories of others. When we get old we will live together. Like all old. Because all old and live. With the impression of having lived their entire lives in the middle of a clip that would have tried in vain to reduce to crumbs.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Where Is Your Cervix During Early Pregnancy
Feeding the fire
The heat is a relic of sun
winter would last four seasons
we should do
sparks with our eyes
to rekindle the flame
we should do
sparks with our eyes
to rekindle the flame
Fakku Internet Explorer
What we can not do with a shadow
- The highlight
- The
to shame - Make it a hair color
- The paint
- Tell her she
beautiful eyes - make love Him
- The
to smile - The dress
- Maintain a reasoned discussion
- The tie
- The
give someone - He hurt
- The exit
- The love 
- The highlight
- The
to shame - Make it a hair color
- The paint
- Tell her she
beautiful eyes - make love Him
- The
to smile - The dress
- Maintain a reasoned discussion
- The tie
- The
give someone - He hurt
- The exit
- The love
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Internal Hdd Error Dell Latitude D610
Question viewpoint
love makes lovers discerning
love on balance would rather
a kind of dust in the eyes of other 
Love does not blind
lovers is what they say is wrong but
love makes discerning the limit Yes that's
lovers is what they say is wrong but
love makes discerning the limit Yes that's
love makes lovers discerning
love on balance would rather
a kind of dust in the eyes of other
Monday, February 28, 2011
Can You Put Mozzarella In Poutine?
Deep in the night
Deep in the night, you see nothing, No one 'means nothing. Its meaning is coupled with trash and quirky forms. We simply blink and wait for sleep to become a drowning. It is intolerable that suspension, which will surface in the morning breaths. Then left alone in the abyss, with open eyes and body movement. It turns its head, we scrutinize some hope of light is allowed to float its flesh and derive its muscles. It is less the clever, deep in the night, surrounded by unseen monsters. We feel that it turns around, then you close your eyes but to no avail. We swim with the dolphins died in thinking. You can stay for hours, deep in the night, waiting for a drowning that exists only in our dreams. 
Deep in the night, you see nothing, No one 'means nothing. Its meaning is coupled with trash and quirky forms. We simply blink and wait for sleep to become a drowning. It is intolerable that suspension, which will surface in the morning breaths. Then left alone in the abyss, with open eyes and body movement. It turns its head, we scrutinize some hope of light is allowed to float its flesh and derive its muscles. It is less the clever, deep in the night, surrounded by unseen monsters. We feel that it turns around, then you close your eyes but to no avail. We swim with the dolphins died in thinking. You can stay for hours, deep in the night, waiting for a drowning that exists only in our dreams.
Wdm Driver For Digivue
Release - The Growler No 17 - March 2011
The Growler 17 is available. This is a Grognard "special poetry," developed by Gaston Vieujeux and Stephane Beau and preface by Luc Vidal, head of the editions of the Small Vehicle.
poets in this volume are:
Teresa Allison-Aziz, Pascale Arguedas, Philippe Ayraud, Bernard Le Blavec Martine Brugiere, Jacques Coly, John Crill, Chantal Dupuy-Dunia, Heptanes fraxion, Cathy Garcia, Michel L'Hostis, Jean-Claude Lamatabois, Denis Langlois Alain Lebeau, Jean-David Lemarie, Jean Lenturlu Guy Lheureux Guy Lorant, Guy Meunier, Yves Moulet, Gregory Parville Henri Philibert, Stephane Prat, Pascal Pratz, The Revoyure, Aude Cervens Rubin, Rene Sartre, William Siaudeau, Eric Simon Thevenet Collette, Aglaia Vadet Luc Vidal, Gaston Vieujeux, Vinau Thomas, Paul-Henry Vincent.
The "In terms of books" has was performed by: The Goulven Brech, Stephane Beau and Jean-Louis Millet
Illustrations: Stéphane Prat, Nicolas Desire Frisque, Magali Planes, Cathy Garcia, Sarah Dao, Guy and Jean Lheureux Lenturlu.
To order, or to learn more about the Growler is HERE 
The Growler 17 is available. This is a Grognard "special poetry," developed by Gaston Vieujeux and Stephane Beau and preface by Luc Vidal, head of the editions of the Small Vehicle.
poets in this volume are:
Teresa Allison-Aziz, Pascale Arguedas, Philippe Ayraud, Bernard Le Blavec Martine Brugiere, Jacques Coly, John Crill, Chantal Dupuy-Dunia, Heptanes fraxion, Cathy Garcia, Michel L'Hostis, Jean-Claude Lamatabois, Denis Langlois Alain Lebeau, Jean-David Lemarie, Jean Lenturlu Guy Lheureux Guy Lorant, Guy Meunier, Yves Moulet, Gregory Parville Henri Philibert, Stephane Prat, Pascal Pratz, The Revoyure, Aude Cervens Rubin, Rene Sartre, William Siaudeau, Eric Simon Thevenet Collette, Aglaia Vadet Luc Vidal, Gaston Vieujeux, Vinau Thomas, Paul-Henry Vincent.
The "In terms of books" has was performed by: The Goulven Brech, Stephane Beau and Jean-Louis Millet
Illustrations: Stéphane Prat, Nicolas Desire Frisque, Magali Planes, Cathy Garcia, Sarah Dao, Guy and Jean Lheureux Lenturlu.
To order, or to learn more about the Growler is HERE
Is Harmful To Swallow A Little Mouthwash-scope
Fire Magic
© photo: Ronis Muche
Yearning summer
c ' and is betraying
underestimate
fire
c ' and is betraying
underestimate
fire
How To Play Gpsphone Games On Vba
Our life under trees
ago your little heart
surrounded by bone
veins
skin and around the trees
we tend branches
You could leave me there to join them
live at the top with them and their birds
But you know
I have vertigo
then we spend our lives
under trees and try to catch me
like the sweet futility
a perfume of flowers in your hair anchored
surrounded by bone
veins
skin and around the trees
we tend branches
You could leave me there to join them
live at the top with them and their birds
But you know
I have vertigo
then we spend our lives
under trees and try to catch me
like the sweet futility
a perfume of flowers in your hair anchored
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Royal Caribbean Cruises Line Auditions
Confetti
The morning breath
laughter yesterday remained
the feeling of being a
confetti after
Carnival
laughter yesterday remained
the feeling of being a
confetti after
Carnival
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Mba Sample Admission Deferment Letter
Their thighs as refuges
© photo: Bill Brandt
One morning
who smokes
size that smooths our retinas
One morning
who arrives early and leaves late
that
not say thank you all who care about our pupils
squats
sleeps in our heads
One morning
that violates our faults and our mistakes
A frightening morning
which they hide in the palm of their thighs
who smokes
size that smooths our retinas
One morning
who arrives early and leaves late
that
not say thank you all who care about our pupils
squats
sleeps in our heads
One morning
that violates our faults and our mistakes
A frightening morning
which they hide in the palm of their thighs
Invocation Prayer For Sales
Outside the Law
Marauder
in our heads to pick
2-3 ideas
plunder our small skulls
become off-the-law
our memory lapses
in our heads to pick
2-3 ideas
plunder our small skulls
become off-the-law
our memory lapses
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Butalbital Versus Narcotic
In the belly of squirrels
So that 'at some point I
been obliged to tell him that it was nuts
like love stories
and once they were made
When she was little
she often asked me where were going nuts
Once the squirrel had swallowed
It was long believed
they disappeared and the stomach was a squirrel
universe
an enormous black hole or some kind of Bermuda Triangle
she often asked me where were going nuts
Once the squirrel had swallowed
It was long believed
they disappeared and the stomach was a squirrel
universe
an enormous black hole or some kind of Bermuda Triangle
So that 'at some point I
been obliged to tell him that it was nuts
like love stories
and once they were made
in our bellies
they ended
simply by forgotten
they ended
simply by forgotten
Pokemonshinygoldcheats
Release - Cahiers Adele No. 7 - February 2011
A good title
January THIRION
Our Lives alcohol
GUILLAUME SIAUDEAU
Yv (r) es
PATRICK PORTET
tutor
PHILIPPE LEROYER
The wine of the ancient
HELENA neard
Linen
KHUN SAN
Permeable
Chistopher Havot
Hie!
ARTHUR CRAVAN
Apnea
ELISE Blaque
The tour of Santa
DENIS SIGUR
Intoxicated man
SERGE GAINSBOURG
I drink
BORIS VIAN
Dionysian Dance
CHOMBART OF MARION LAUWE
Besides
FRANCOISE QUARDON
Wish drunks
VINCENT LEVEBVRE
The taste of strawberries
CLAUDINE Candat
The party at Fred
MANU CAUSSE
Female
KHUN SAN
Vertigo
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