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Sweepstakes on the blog of our compi Lluna,
http://elpetitmondelalluna.blogspot.com/

Long Bay Resort, Sc, Bankruptcy

Flaneur BCN / BCN

López Catalán is perhaps less well known street in Barcelona. Many things have not and many others do. Has no outlet. Has no stores. You do not have sidewalks. Not even a sign indicating that Lopez called Catalan. But many other things it does, is sixty feet long, a sign at the entrance indicates that it is contradirección, raised pavement and only a building with only a balcony. There, in that only balcony of this one building, Joaquin Flores Ribera drinking a watery chamomile while swinging the left leg on the right. Joaquin neck stretches, see the asphalt from those twenty meters high gray asphalt-and believes that it is green grass sprouts through the cracks. At the entrance to the street currency distant white shapes. It is incorporated with the same speed as the branching cracks in the wall. Bones creak. Sign in in the room now empty, there is only a bed, mattress and a smell of ammonia. Turned to the kitchen, opens the refrigerator unplugged. The cold surface returns that stabbing pain in the fingers. A rice dish who knows when, half a lemon dry, a box of wine, two eggs. A single building. He addresses the room, the tile floor is just up the asphalt out there. Walk over and sounds like xylophone. Back rests on the peeling wall and try to remember. Before him have to remember twenty square meters. But now Joaquín only able to remember the way that squeezes an old cloth. The cloth is dry, lint. One building, one floor occupied. Joaquin Flores Bank drops its puny hips against the only chair in the house. And without thinking, and without squeezing. In the fridge, while the moss intrudes between the grains of rice. Under the shell of an egg, a pair of enzymes eat the yolk. The ammonia penetrates the pores of the floor of the room. The crack in the balcony extends half a millimeter. And out there on the cracks greenish-Catalán López less well known street in Barcelona, \u200b\u200btwo white men beat the door. No matter what, and whether or not López Catalán, because soon there will be bed, mattress or ammonia. There will be Joaquin moss or crumpled cloth. Not a crack, or the memory, even these letters apathetic, and no one to continue telling this story ends.

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Awards parcel


Prize gives me our colleague Yolanda, thank you very much invite guapa.Os to visit their blog you liked it a precious minis. Http://miniaturasyolanda.blogspot.com/

now my turn to present this award to five blogs.
I grant this award to: Ana
http://elmundoana.blogspot.com/
Xisca ........... ................. Olga
http://misdamitas.blogspot.com/ ..... ................. .... http://elpetitmondelalluna.blogspot.com/
Helena ................ ........... Mayca http://manualidadesdehelena.blogspot.com/
http://milugarsecreto-mayca.blogspot.com /

Affects Of Marijuana On Cataract

Flaneur 9 / 8

The day I decided to kill Michael was invited to take a wine bar Margarit Zodiac of the street. He said he would pay me and I looked at her strangely. I do not know if the offer or the tone as I said.

we entered, sat down and pray. A drop of sweat tickled me back. Miguel is tucked in his jacket felt as if the wind had been cast street under their lapels.

hid the lips and teeth after I tried a smile in his eyes, more open than normal. He also tried to smile. Lace your fingers on the table, he began to tinker with the ashtray. No one dared to break the silence. Without esperármelo, betrayed by my impetus, I posed the question he had saved for last:

"I know why you persist in despising each text I teach.

He intended to start with a prologue, with some absurd topic expel those who do a gentle stream of air through the nose and motivate the shoulders down. But my sentence put on notice that there would be a normal week, because gulped and leaned back.

That sentence triggered in me the hate that magma was accumulating during the year. I flushed cheeks, ears vibrated me, gritted teeth. I remembered all the bad moments I had to live since we concluded our meetings on Saturdays. Every Saturday afternoon he went to his room from the street to talk Tapioles on our texts. My impulse is always pushing me to start. He listened to my recital and I looked askance at that, going forward read, piling up the fingers of both hands, to turn them into a fist hammering on his legs. Then I prepared to hear criticism. And he, biting his lip, threw his consistent string of groundless. The best days chose adjectives such as variable , beginner, weak, irrelevant or unlikely. The most savage, ignorant , clumsy, inefficient , idiot. The six remaining days I struggled to overcome the errors pointed out, trying to concatenate the right words, avoiding absurd rhetorical figures, choosing the right argument and dressing in a manner consistent with the characters. And the following Saturday Tapioles returned to the street more safely, to submit my story to his trained eye. But the answers, for a year, were always the same.

That evening in the bar Zodiac, compared to two glasses of wine, it was a year of our first meeting.

The fury shook me an ardent long exhalation. My hands trembled. To simulate my anger went into the pockets of American, but the right hand reminded me that there gun waiting his turn. Miguel suggested a similar move, almost modeled. Also hot air over the mouth, I felt, also gritted teeth, I heard. Both jaw trembled. He leaned forward. Foaming at the mouth I said

"And I want to know why you anticipate all my ideas. Whenever I bring a text is exactly the same as I had imagined the night before.

I rose from my chair. He also. I took the gun just before he take out his behind the lapel of his jacket felt. I put a bullet in the middle of the forehead, just before he gave me in the chest. Blai escaped down the street, probably the same street he had chosen to flee.

Flying Wooden Mobile Bird

Flaneur BCN / BCN

Bogatell drizzle wakes up with a tingling, those with droplets that put you behind the ear. Now I know: there are other sites and drizzle. Wrinkle sea rocks and sand roads uncomb false leading to a curved slide, of which I like, or those linked to climb ropes that give me so dizzy. I spend tongue over his lips and drink salt. Shook up the jacket to mom, but I did not speak. She looked at me. Crouch, kiss me. She looks at me with their marbled eyes, his eyelids tremble to the rhythm of the waves raging. The sharp wind moves her curls and I see even more beautiful. Insists wind up the scarf that covers me elephants mouth, and I subject to not escape me. But the wind starts me in the neck. And mom also wears it. I stretch my little arms, I strive to mourn, but I just drizzle falling from the eyes. I get up the lapels of his jacket and run to a taxi. I think I'll spacing these visits. Every time I find it harder to remove the salt from these lips, moisture behind the ears.

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Flaneur 7 / 6

"Actually, right now, at this very moment, hundreds of gallons of semen are being poured through me. And along a chuckle
studied before taking the campari. Jeannette, or rather Esther, as I had just confessed "He said with the nonchalance of a banker who sealed stubs. I sighed and looked at my boobs, so in the open in the middle of December.
- you take me to eat before? - Proposed. I took a few seconds to say yes. I took
arm and crossed the street Espaseria. She seemed to be laying down the road. The dinner was not included. I stood firm:
"Wait, revolve with the Rambla del Borne. Although
to foot was covered with synthetic mink coat, everyone without exception they turned to see his exuberance. I should have asked for more discretion. After the rodeo
absurd went to the restaurant she wanted, Caputxes. It ordered a seafood platter of fifty euro did not even touch. At least I took a few sips to Protos.
"Well, shall we?
But I did not even leave the terminal. I invited her to a drink in Borneo, on the other side of the neighborhood.
"I see you like walking, Daddy.
We sat by the window. She took off her coat and turned to expose their boobs to the crowd. Irritates me slightly. It asked for another campari. I was a Jameson's.
"Well, as I was saying ... because you're probably waiting for my stories ... my record is thirteen guys. In one bed, thirteen, yes. What surprises you? I've seen, probably. It was hard yes, but I gained good pasta. The most fucked up is dry, you have to put one of these moisturizing creams pussy every half hour. What surprised you? Can you imagine that you are taking for each hole without pause for six hours? That director was a jerk, Jeff called himself and was in Cadiz, I wanted to shoot it all in one afternoon. Above, surely you know, before a scene and you live in water for days, just eat fruit, how do you think you can give up the ass just like that, then? And cut, and the crema, and guys who hold their ejaculation to the next shot, and another shot. But worst of all are the lights on the set all day in front of these bulbs leave you frazzled skin. Look, look what I have in my cracked nipple and breast.
I asked him not to do what was done and he laughed again as before. I suddenly realized that the last words are heard, yes, but faded in between hollow words that bounced like the corridor of a Gothic castle.
"Well, tells you something, I can hear other than to fuck too. "Again the chuckle. So you got good pasta of the settlement?
was going to say yes, that sixty thousand euros, which had considered making such a trip lasting six months, but when I realized that three days would be back I gave that long ago that I masturbate seeing your page, your pussy is too fake, that on the Internet are all the same teen pussy, as false hair on, many in the bar with her pussy depilation, perhaps the only waitress that I have nowhere to go but locked up at home, I have not changed the sheets tonight, my room smells like closure, I borrowed this jacket to a friend, who ten years ago fuck no I do not know if it worked with women of flesh and bone, prostate and
me anyway ... Then I became aware that he was stroking her hand. Without speaking, without even looking at her. In fact longed to hug and sniff the scent given off by his neck. She let me do while sending messages on the phone with his other hand. I did not answer your question.
- Well, you want to go around or go to we? "I noticed a tone of annoyance in his voice.
- Do you mind if we take another turn?
"Your demands, Daddy. It's your night right?
In Picasso street I'm clinging to her hand and held my nose to his neck. Suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt an emotion so young that I could not contain the urge to mourn. I was dying to embrace the female skin contact was stronger than I thought. Only
hug.
She stepped back and shoved me in disgust. I took her arm and led me to Calle Princesa, presumably to catch a taxi and complete the deal in my house.
The taxi arrived right away, like in the movies. Missing it fell a mist and was even more film. Before you get in the taxi he blocked the entrance with his right arm. I took his wallet and gave him one hundred euros.
"Go.
I got into the taxi and pointed myself home address to the driver. Before him to take Via Laietana I refused to take a last look. He had me on the scent of her neck. When I came to a house the first thing I did was turn on the computer. I masturbated looking at her tits on the sheets that had not come to change.

Quotes On New Job Congratulations

..... Y. ..... more More paqueteria


I hope that the owner likes his parcel and this is the beginning of many more, Anubis.

Cervical Polyps Natural Treatment

New look for the work of a fellow forum "Your miniatures," I hope that you like in your hand as much as I like to my design.
Anubis.

How To Dye White Satin To Ivory

BCN flâneur / 5

Every afternoon, at Plaça d'Osca, I hope. All skipping in our bench. Holidays, rainy days when Festa Major, Sant Joan when. My satin shirt, my shoes Barrett, my tuxedo tie, my fedora.
Our bench.
But now my bones sting. Today at the foot of the bed, I wait.

Sms To Congratulate A Pregnant Woman

Flaneur BCN / BCN 4

In the balcony overlooking Sert Passatge Indian citizen named Ammit managed to levitate a few millimeters. At the corner of Sant Pere Mes Alt, meters, Marien was the first kiss of his life, and was surprised to feel that kind of sucks. In Josep bar, Marius drank a cut and watched Spain Direct, while the display, after the crowd at the reporter who asked about a toxic spill in the Douro, honored his daughter Joanna, runaway from home six years ago. Just then left the bar Tarik holding in his hand a bouquet of dried flowers on display and found twelve mobile missed calls from Islamabad. He passed Pròleg library where Carmen Somonzano presented his book Water in your blood with only nine participants, a book that years later would be considered cult. A few steps Anna believed water breaking while reading the back of Mrs. Dalloway , revised and annotated. Behind the counter, the cashier called Esther was wrong for the third time in his first day at work make change. Opposite, across the door of the building called Crixmina Lluís snagged his pants arranged by his mother, who died a week ago. Hector found ten euros, Jaime opened an email with the subject Farewell, Montse changed the pack in the wrong bathroom, Augustine again with the tongue touching the teeth loose, Mary boasted not have listened to the weather forecast as he opened the umbrella of three euros, and Joaquim, just go home after four days of flu, felt that the doorway was the very edge of the world.