Where Can I Buy A Iron Man Costume Replica

Meet the antenna after use, thank you

Note the direction: this post was described as excruciatingly verbose for what he has to say, the crucial passage was marked to facilitate identification of important information it contains, for comfort the potential reader lost on this blog.
Thank you for your understanding possible.

Morticia, my plant canivore a little tame but is not messing around either, asking me the other night (no, not this one, another): "Say, Jean-Pierre, what do you want tonight?" . To which I replied: "The same thing every night, Morticia. Trying to conquer the world."
Yes, I know what you're shocked I told him repeatedly not to me thou, but what you want is a little hard leaf and sometimes I wonder if she understands French. ..

But enough about me, let me say a few words about Switzerland.
(Huh? Oh good night, right ...) To believe
Wikipedia (yeah, you saw, you know): "The western Switzerland covers the west and approximately 1, 48 million people. This region does not exist on the political level in Switzerland, brings together people whose common language is French. It includes the cantons of Geneva, Jura (with the exception of a small town germanophone, Ederswiler), Neuchâtel and Vaud, and some cantons of Bern, Fribourg and Valais. "
Well, go have a look if you're told, I've already seen I await you in the car (?).
...
Nothing to make a Romand, as they say in the country, hin hin ...
short so good so, after reading these lines, we notice several things, things that I will list 5 points:

1. In Wikipedia, there is apparently a whole team dedicated to writing the page about Switzerland Romande. How do you want? " It is a mine of information! And then we feel that this is a great band of goats being in there, it must be kidding big daily (Han and you remember a time where Herve returned tempered because he had forgotten his pébroque? Rooh c'te poilade! Huh? Nah, well ...)
2. Sometimes I have a sense of humor, but hey you know life is hard, sometimes the road is long.
3. ...
4. The Wikipedia page is incomplete, but I will because I have a point to develop.
   
5. I'm not going to lie: I had no point 3. (What an idea to fix the number of points at the start. We have really seen everything. It satisfies me everything. It's not a life my poor lady, especially with all the insecurities that lurk, finally, if you see this I mean, eh? Nan, well ...)
   

A promise chômdu, as they say at work I returned about 4 because I feel you on hold and it makes me a bit uncomfortable to leave you like that, expectant, full of unanswered questions about how to succeed in life, pay less tax by giving to the poor for the deductions, what is the trend in under-sweater this fall, do we really need ironing jeans, and western Switzerland in all this is the chicken?
Having only limited time to answer you, I will focus on the chicken, just to still give you some food for thought. And if after you're bored, you grind me conjugate the verb in all tenses compounds indicative.

la Suisse Romande, disai I is much more than a region that does not exist, contrary to what Wikipedia says. Western Switzerland is a handful of picturesque cottages nestled on a mountainside, against each other, united against the harsh winter. Western Switzerland, is a farmer but not too crusty and smelling the cow, which invites you to share a [typical dish of western Switzerland, yes ... bah] around an old oak table that hand grater (Huh, you've seen, there's that here we can see that), in a dining room bathed in the soft glow of the hearth, and feels the cow. Yes, Western Switzerland, is terroir. At least that's what I remember the fabulous story Antoine de Maximy (you know, when you have nothing to do on a Saturday and there is more than France 5 for us to avoid something miserable. Like playing sports or going out, for example).
Oh, and also in Switzerland speaking they are not very nice, except the lady who had her scooter down but only after she agrees to take her on a tour to visit before she sleeps in eating pasta with tomato sauce, as you see what they say the Swiss German gnagnagna and then sailed. Huh?

[Begin reading here]
Anyway, just to the point, what's really interesting in western Switzerland, it is not the chalets, it is not the farmer, it is not the cow that feels, it is ... (Yes, my mouth): NO! Western Switzerland is, above all, a radio, beautiful, and especially an issue no less resplendent where you can hear this Friday (24 if Morticia is an hour) between 14 and 15 hours, reading is only an interstellar post TCE if you have RealPlayer, if Tintin. Point.
[Start to finish reading here]
...
No but if I promise. Scrolling down the page, you will see well.
Okay, so I'll say this for you, eh. You think that me and Morticia do not withdraw any personal pride. And also since we're nice, well mostly me because Morticia ... Finally you see what I mean ... So, in short, good, note on your shelves that if ever you work on Friday to feed your family does not deserve it, I agree with you, given everything that you ever made a gesture for them, never a word nice, short, notice that you have a second chance to hear the voice streamed (it is said streamed, right?) Brigitte Patient: Saturday from 2 to 3 hours. (Huh? Yes yes, in the morning, why I seem to be joking ? Remember that I have a gun.)
I will definitely come back extensively on this event in a future post, in two years does not make you too languish band of rascals.

I take this post to give you the recipe for lemon pie (you can add a small Swiss to make it more creamy. Yes yes, my mouth because, after all ...), it doesn ' is not because I do not like what we have to deprive yourself. Not true, I was thinking about this the other night and it made me sad for you. Really.

Edit pm (Cresson?): It was necessary to take into account the time difference with western Switzerland, which is 24 h of France. Well yes that's how it can be anything. Jettez therefore an ear thereby (I will return). Well ... At least Marcel does is still stuck in the cassette, and it has been that of 24 on 23 but it's not his fault, since the time he asked to be put small labels do not that it crashes instead of the damn color. Especially with his daltonite, it does not help, but what do you want management cares. Nevertheless, the intro is from a blog "on the other side of the planet", so the hypothesis of my jet lag seems more likely. Another thing they did not specify in Wikipedia.

I wish you good morning.

How To Build A Rabbit Cage Using Coroplastfloors

Ode to the middle classes, but not too

This is not me saying it, but the Swiss proverb (but still):

"Having a blog results in some bonds. Regularly, we must either post a picture of his cat, or criticize reporters or tell his vacation. "

Admit it still felt good. It seems to me.
... Not
photo journalist to mail or chat to criticize, what do you want me to say? Yes, here, the holidays. No but I'll do it quickly, you'll see, it will be virtually painless.

Well then me this year, I went on vacation for the rich, you know, in a villa. First lesson: when you say the word "villa", insisting on the "l". It is necessary that your partner has the impression that this word is written with at least thirty "l", otherwise he will know immediately that you're not a real rich.
And you want to be a rich, is not it?

So beware, here I am talking about old rich vacation. No vacation for rich junk that enjoy to be with the jet set. No, the true, the old rich, well installed, well padded, bitter and all, and whose only concern is make bacon. And also about the weather.
...
Yeah.
Because the rich on vacation at his villa (tttt "villlllla", voila!), I must admit, it really has little to do. Well, go, okay, it has nothing to do. Except for one thing, a kind of red (as in Intervilles yes, if you speak it better) that punctuates the day, from waking to sleeping: be good. The old rich vacation, he, his trip is to settle in his recliner, a place where one can "see the view" and then say "Haaaa ... It is still not bad, eh ?. Question to which there is only one answer: "yes", possibly followed developed a critique of the weather.

The rich are indeed very fond of meteorology, and it is not uncommon that challenges you with phrases like:
"This morning was overcast but there I feel that it is released. .. "
"What we're well in the shade with the breeze, there. For it is bumping against the sun ..."
or finally "It's dark there, I wonder if we will not be a storm ..."
What he should generally answer "yes" or, if we want to deepen discussion, "it is possible."

Out meal period, no use trying to talk about something other than weather the rich, he will not answer you, he is too busy watching the view. This he did all day. Because the rich are tired, so when he is on vacation, he is there to relax. And the rich, which relaxes the is watch the weather for speaking, what do you want me to tell you ...

When he wanted to produce a physical effort, the rich oozes out forcefully and bellowing sigh (Fuck! Looks like Nothomb !) Of his recliner and went on dragging the tongues towards the pool. There, he dips a hand in half the water, take a look at your thermometer and gratifies a "26" This morning it was 24 ...".
Here there is a trap, and we must be careful. Indeed, the observation of the rich looks uncannily reflect weather. What one is tempted to respond logically "it is possible." Do not make this mistake, otherwise offend the rich by putting his words into question. No. Here the answer is "Oh yes, that is!".
Indeed, the rich did not want to know the age of the master cave. The rich do not care of your life. The rich are on holiday, the rich are tired, you know? All he wants is to see and be reassured about the temperature its pool. Damn! That's actually not complicated!
short, be vigilant on this point, for heaven's sake, and thus the rich.
(The aaaaaa-mour's rich ... [Complete])

But do sit down to eat you my dear Sylvie? (Huh? Sylvie ... But what are you doing in this post? No no ... I'm sorry, do not stay there, I have work to me.).
...
But sit down to eat, do you want?
Another major concern of the rich on vacation: sit down to eat. So beware, I say sit down to eat and not eat. Enter the grade, I beg you.
The rich love to eat, just to have the pleasure of saying "And if we go to dinner?". Point. It's just for the pleasure of a conditional use twice a day, accompanied by a link could not be more zélégante. It's a lifestyle. After
, do not expect to make a feast. The rich are on holiday, the rich man is tired and wants to see the view, then it does not bother extending a meal. No. Salad, accompanied by a small low-calorie dressing, ideally based walnut oil, and voila.

This does not prevent the rich have been relatively complicated to prepare a table with about seven drinks per person, and sixty cutlery. Oh, and there are also small mats, kind handwoven. Because the rich eat outside on the terrace, you see, and small craft mats it is SOOOO cute, camping limit, you see. It reminds the rich he was, one day, a man before becoming an asshole and obese enough, lacking any sense of reality (Huh? What do you mean exactly by "slip"? No, I do not see.)

We therefore quickly swallow half a plate of tasteless widgets bio, along with a single slice of the hundred and twelve grain sits proudly on its individual board before taking coffee, saucer and chocolate (the little guilty pleasure of the rich, "he confessed, rosy cheeks with a barely feigned shame), but not to sleep well at night. Because he must go to bed early so he could get up early and see the view in the morning, what is the water temperature at 9.15am, to eat, take a nap before the sight because it has up too early to see the view, and try to guess at what temperature rise in the pool in the afternoon, and then just before going to dinner, the evening before going to bed early to get up early. For the rich holiday, even if it has nothing to do, likes to complicate life just for the pleasure of having a complicated life. It's like that's rich. He does not understand these "ordinary people" who do not care nothing about their day, with no ambition.

No, you see, the rich, he can not remain inactive. You understand? The rich always have to have an activity, the rich are always one hundred per cent, instead of the poor. The rich do not know the meaning of idleness, and even when he relaxes by watching the view, it is one hundred percent, better than any poor could do. This is also why it is what it is today: a poor schmuck obese and sufficient ... Oh no.

Well, if not, my vacation was good. I know a lot about the weather, I know the limits between which the temperature hovered in the pool for 8 days, and i really studied for ...

And if so, when I rule the world, I will organize a civil war with one side all eat shit rich, and all the other morons who labourrent shelves of Carrefour with their heads idiots, who jostle you without saying sorry before taking a TV Magazine to find out if there will be little sluts to staracacademy this year. Kevin, come here or I'll glue one brothel.
...
No, really, I think it me good these little vacation. I feel spruced, reassembled everything. Maybe a little calmer ... Oh no, not more.
My field of vision has expanded, I finally realized that there is a lot more work than I thought.
To try to reassure me, so I immediately ordered The Lucifer Principle, on the advice of a nobody, a video game forum ... No, actually I do not think I would have taken without this sentence in the presentation of the book:

"Nobody can escape unscathed after this intellectually dramatic reading."

Raaah manure! How they knew that the simple act of writing "Reading Drama" I would buy my stuff? " Huh?
Raaaah! I'm sure it's the little guys who tappent in my head that they have spilled the beans! Raaaahh! Dogs!

Yes, heuu, if not me, okay. I'm glad to be back, even if it stings a little.

I wish you good morning.

Rugby Player Pants Down

Graphololgie (feat. Sylvie)

Thanks to Sabine Paturel who ate all the chocolate and I was not inspired this post.

The trouble with the internet is that everyone can express themselves freely.
QED.
Yes, I apologize in advance to submit to you this thought-worn, I should carry it silently is already a good ten years. (Reread that sentence indigestible, I too had trouble understanding it, burps ). Here, ten years ago, eleven to be exact, in 1995, I was connected with my modem 33.6, Infonie subscriber, and I spent my time in their proprietary interface to the con, without suspecting that there was a elsewhere.
Promised. Juror. / spit
I discovered (forks, spoons, everything) the existence of what is called a browser about a year after taking up my subscription to the Internet, which has produced in me as a kind of fussoir. It was called De Kersauson, as the browser, it had a famous three-masted end like a bird, silly.

But hey, it was good, Infonie, all that we discussed in the salons of their interface prorpiétaire rotten to the con, and we were happy. When we clicked on "Send", it made no noise, and I laughed every time. Carefree, wonder, innocence of youth, that I have enjoyed the sweet freshness of your clear morning burps .
Well, and if not, the scourge of modern times, my good lady is Smilies (cow, what I can use commas as now, if I a merchant of commas, I would certainly rich by now, with an office in a tower where I could see the town upside down, where I control my universe, but good. ..). We, on Infonie, it was a kind of "How we do about it and causing the internet?" With tips, everything, and then the netiquette that we must be polite to people from across the Internet. Well, after people realized that they risked nothing, and it was covered by anonymity, and they said to polite to go to hell.

And then there was also a kind of guide smileys, to tell people "but no, it's not a typo, tilt your head left and you will laugh as humpback whales, rascals!". If so, they were very close to the people in Infonie. So good, yes, it has smileys liked it immediately, must say it was her little effect first, and then we had not yet "lol", it was, it was great.

So good, in short, the problem now is that, like what I do with the commas, go figure, everyone or almost feels compelled to finish each of his sentences with a smiley. In writing, eh, I mean. Not because that "Hi Jean-Pierre, how are you semicolon right parenthesis?" spoken it goes a little worse. Try your loved ones, two points "for" Shift!
I feel like the smiley to acquire (correct me if I'm wrong, eh) a quasi-essential in any good conversation emailo-forumesque respectable. The excessive smiley, the smiley as a "regulator of atmosphere" (coming soon on this blog: The place the smiley in the air conditioning systems). The smiley has become THE essential way to play down and minimize the scope of his writings. How did we do before, I do not know.

But take a concrete example if you do not mind my dear Sylvia. I have here with me a phrase that I deliver between 14h and 16h except on Saturdays

I think you're wrong, Herve, but I will not try to persuade thee, because thou art a dirty big con.

You notice me as slightly aggressive character of this phrase, is not it my dear Sylvia. Embellish the smiley a very fit, like you, and discover together the result (yes, go to Sylvie, raise the curtain):

I think you're wrong, Herve, but I will not attempt persuade worry because you're a big dirty cunt)

Did you see? Yes, quite dear Sylvie, the sentence is instantly drained of its very substance, so much so that no longer knows if it's bacon, pork, or both (other: .. .........).
embellish everything with a hint of SMS (subject as we do not have time to address this issue, no offense to our young friends)

mdr c ke tu di nimp is, RV t gro kun fdp;) OOLOLOLOLOL

Have you seen the writing as young smiley sauce can get messages with a more serious tone of lightness disconcerting? Do not you think that the writing already known to promote reflection and remove all forms of impulsivity, must receive input and oh so relaxing dramatized smileys per million? Do you ever said that the smileys are the perfect way to add the right amount of pathos to writing, so poor, so complicated with all those difficult words? If this is the case, then you know that Sylvie Conchie, staracacadémiciens band:) lololoool

I wish you good morning.

Corn And Diverticulitis

Chronicle: his mother

... they have said, to the position.

No, I'm not talking about football. Good, or else just a little bit but not too much, because football is evil. Besides, look, I'm not talking about football, I'll just talk about football. You know, Zinedine Zidane.

For those who have not followed too much, I recapitulate: Zinedine Zidane is the greatest French player of football since Michel Platini (the gro ... the gentleman there, with the hair and cutting Champagne, in step). Zinedine Zidane is a living monument erected to the glory of football god, the embodiment of fair play, the symbol of a France that wins (thank you to Jacques C. de Paris for this sentence).

So yesterday, for his last game of his career in the final of the World Cup, quiet, Zinedine Zidane, the Jesus Christ of football, who walked on the lawn and distributed the bread, (I make a comma cure at this time, thank you your indulgence), left the stadium for the last time red card, having put a diving header in the ribs of an opponent while the ball was at the other end of the stadium. Realize how sad. Finally, for TF1. Because on TF1, after the game, they planned a "special arrangement" with many celebrities such as Lorie, Bugsy or Amel Bent Stomy to discuss the victory, and tell people to buy their records when even a little bit, because you eat well, you know.

so short, Jean-Pierre Pernaut was very upset. And the top of a terrace overlooking the Champs-Elysees sparse, he wondered what he was going to make this "exceptional measure" that he had screwed in the legs, following the stinging defeat. Especially since there is no report on the arcane weaving the old carpet in the bathroom Limousin would come to him save the day. Zinedine Zidane and leaving the football like that, on a whim. It Balot, eh. Of stroke, Bernard Tapie, the Swiss Army knife of television, which was tasked with finding an excuse for this unfortunate gesture. And Bernard, he knows a lot of excuses. So good, he told us that yes, okay it's wrong what Zinedine did, but at the same time this is a man (that's the side roubignoles Bernard speaks) and besides if he had made this gesture, it is likely that the Italian had said something serious, I quote, "certainly about his mother."

Unstoppable ... as an excuse. Argued, developed, indisputable. No, it Bernard Tapie had a well rehabilitated to Zidane before the world, and it was a total success. It must be said that the apology potential gesture was not easy to find. It was either:

- "He treated his mother." So the excuse that it was chosen.

- "He broke his angle, and stole his compass." A very valid excuse, but not during school holidays.

- "He stole the ball during recess, and even caps." And that, it still deserves a good headbutt. No balls, shit!

- "He told everyone that he is still wetting the bed." Then it's not even true uh!

- "There was not offside!", But hey, it's true, there was no offside and no one has said anything, so it did no, the coup ...

I want to personally congratulate Bernard Tapie, who once again restored and the truth is once again shine this little glimmer of hope in the eyes Small children and their parents and football fans unbalanced.
Or not.

But the real bad news this weekend is the last Everybody talks about it. The last animal show in which one could observe the wild THE STATE celebrities, all gathered around the point "of water." At a time when superstars go to drink, Thierry Ardisson - bartender presenter, Paris - connect the camera to give us beautiful images of wildlife in this semi-intoxicated. It was like a National Geographic documentary. Except that National Geographic there are dung beetles, so it necessarily has more class.

For the latter, the atmosphere was not there, unlike some bitterness. It's vodka, it stings a little. Jamel Debbouze and his band of merry men, we tried to raise the level by spraying the tray of champagne, but hey, Madame de Fontenay has just chuckled, and it has wet sheets, and after how do you expect, shit!

No, what it will take away from this issue is the meaning of the formula Thierry Ardisson (the only one who was not drunk). Indeed, when the ultimate blind test, sounding the death knell of the show, Titia, a former vase converted into nothing, starve to dance languidly next to the DJ, encased in a dress about 7 times too small for her (I did some calculations, made me a little confidence, dammit!). Yes because you see, Titia, the blind test she cares, and besides, she already knows all the answers. So ... she prefers to show his talent for dance, you see. It's in the blood, I do not know if you can understand.

And so, while his preposterous breasts (thank you Jacques C. from Paris to the adjective) (no, really, ou alors c’est peut-être l’effet 16/9éme qui écrase un peu. Dites moi ce que vous en pensez si vous avez un 4/3.) prenait une fois de plus le dessus sur une robe à l'agonie, et qu’à côté Jamel Debbouze, estomaqué, lançait un "Non mais c’est pas possible, on voit tout !" mal camouflé par le brouhaha, Thierry Ardisson décocha une phrase qui restera à jamais gravée dans ma mémoire (ou au moins jusqu’à fin juillet, ensuite on verra…) :
"Titia, vous êtes l’incarnation du service publique."
Avouez que c'est quand même plus élégant que de la traiter directement de grosse pute.
...
Next time, I will discuss perhaps the petanque contest broadcast on France 3, at 3 o'clock in the morning. I said "maybe" eh, do not bother to rejoice too soon ...

I wish you good morning.

Neosynephrine For Felines

Bad Faith # 4

"Oh say, then yesterday was a civil mess of these in my street. Chez Jean-Pierre you too?
- Yeah, I do not know what happened, from 23h to midnight: a parade of cars, engines roaring, guys who honk and bellowing like calves, I loved it. Especially since in my street, usually it's less animated than in a cemetery .... And so, j 'I missed something?
- Heuu the match, the team of France, World Cup, you were not aware of?
- Oh no, no. I thought they were just idiots. "

And if not, now in its chronic morning on FM Hearsay, Didier Porte has made an almost idyllic picture of the mother Denis (not the other) This harpy television, this slut ready to sleep with the first team coach of France came to be able to afford a blow-dry / manicure at Jean-Louis David (well, that's what I said, I have not checked if they actually do manicures at Jean-Louis David).
short, Didier Porte, one of last guarantor of literary protest and argued grunt but radio, has just committed an aberrant chronic, probably written under the influence of the alcohol timber, and succumbing to the mob song ("Aull, Aulla aulla aullezzzz is vauuu gaugner! ") and lost at the same time his faithful flock.

So the end of the world as we know it.

I wish you good morning.

Is Phisoderm As Good As Phisohex

Alter-ego-centrism

biiiduu biiiduu biiiduu
(Yes, always the same ridiculous tone phone, I know.)

I do not know about you, but it always takes me almost as ça (durée réelle : environ 11 minutes) :

Moi : "Jean-Pierre Jean allo j'écoute ?"
L'ami : "Salut Jean-Pierre, c'est l'ami."
Moi : "Ah salut l'ami, que me vaut l'honneur ? Ca va t'y ?"
L'ami : "Et bah écoute je t'appelle parce que blablabla blablabla blablabla et tu sais pas ce qu'elle me dit blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla non mais quelle conne ! blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla d'ailleurs ça me rappelle que blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla ça c'est tout moi tu me connais !"
Moi : "Oh que oui."
L'ami : "Et tu sais pas la meilleure Blah blah blah blah when in fact I left it in the car! blah blah blah head in the air blablabla "
Me:" Haha! "
The friend:" blah blah but hey it does that I did not blah blah blah was invited blah. "
Me:" oh bah comment me either, so you know ... "
The friend:" Yes, but I blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla it would still be the least of things blablabla blablabla blablabla blablabla plus I not blah blah blah was blah stingy but not you understand is a matter of education Blablabla blablabla . "
Me:" Sure. "
The friend:" blah blah is not all that good but I must leave you, it will you? "
Me:" Oh yeah, yes, you're off. "
The friend:" Bah, that's right! Go over! "
Me:" Ok, bah you spend when you v. .. "

tûûût tûûût tûûût


Good ... And since you have nothing to do, go have a look on this new swap magic , delivered food to the people's thirst for knowledge, which, certainly, can not get out of that grew up. You will understand not bad of things.

I wish you good morning.

Zalman Cnps10x Vs Cooler Master V8

Piss, you will cry less

Another one who left to join Jean-Philippe .
Oh, God overkill! What did I insult subjected to deserve your wrath? (Huh? Say?)

IBM Deskstar 40GB
04/2001 - 04/06/2006

If you have never watched a minute of silence for the death of a hard disk, there's a good place to start.
And then it will make something original to tell your friends if you have any.
(Warning, you will make others envious, band of rogues!)

Well, in short, so all respect a minute's silence for you, my valiant hard drive, which has so faithfully served during these five years of happiness . From you, I will keep fond memories and tough because you were a hard, yes, but you were tough.

To celebrate the last time your memory, I humbly written a little sonnet. Something simple and formatted as you loved.

Well, j'me launches. Aa-ahem (the noise of the guy who clears his throat. For obvious security reasons, please do not reproduce that noise at home):

A Sunday too, Sunday cursed
a Sunday of mourning when to 2:30 p.m., The
floured face and jumping from the bed, I turned on my PC
to verify my sales.

few minutes later as I walked
In a corridor of stone on the side of Ironforge
A strange feeling I jumped at the throat
"Damn, what it's slow, it is a calamity!"

Back in Windows, menu> System Tools,
I click "defragment" a finger a little feverish ...
In a "squeaking" atrocious suddenly you lose the wire.

Why do this to me, you know that I love you?
No, you've decided, you will end your life,
matter the reboots, farewell, beloved data.

Here, as usual the book of condolences at the bottom of the post, and all those who do not meet on 40 generations are cursed. One per gigabyte.
Yeah, we do not laugh at IBM, sir.

I wish you good morning.

First Audition Preview

The Curse of Fake

my way to work in the morning to earn my daily bread, I met a guy on the travelators.
Oh and then not like I'm going to do it.

"Me going to work like every morning,
To reap the fruit of my efforts, criss
, voluntary, my merry way,
I met a nice guy on the travelators."

Yes, no, it must be said travelator. No escalator. Because it's not the same thing, whatever. Travelator The treadmill is what is the escalator to the stairs, in fact, eh. Good. So my guy, then finally, the type, because then you will still interpret my words and you know what I mean, the guy was on his travelator, and travel Without Moving.
Heck yeah.
Like most people on travelators, type it was as frozen, more or less clinging to the guardrail, he waited until it goes quiet, but a bit stressed on arrival anyway. Yes, well, that's normal, there is always a bit stressed when on a trip, especially when at the end of the road before us a sort of mechanical grinder but a bit disingenuous, too, that awaits the lesser evil is yaw leg to snap you up and eat your children if you have any, I do not want obviously (to two interpretations that can have this sentence, I implied the other).
But hey, the guy, I would have asked him why he did not walk on travelator (noon ... but is not travelator that did not work, you are tiring ...), I would have answered "tsssseuuhh, why is it that I'm going to walk m'esquinter travelator while doing all the work for me, heuuu?!". What a cunt. While he was already sweating. And he also took what little haughty air of false-ass who does not dare admit that he is afraid. While good, it's not because it works by itself should not walk, shit, finally ... Just do a little jump at the elegant end to avoid the monster's gaping jaws of steel, and voila, it's not actually moving to delay the deadline that things will resolve them Similarly, but hey it a priori nobody understands. Pan, a startling revelation to most of the assets of this blog. They want to silence me, I tell you, but my fight for truth is impervious to intimidation.
And I have a gun.

Good, but the problem was not so much travelator, or even standing still on, that guy's outfit. Okay, it's a rule, it was said not the clothes, but allow me to differ.
The guy was there with his mug of Michael, and besides, it could very well have been called Claude. He had put salt and pepper in his beard, and also in what remained of his hair. Head, that way he air worthy Michel, "uncluttered behind the ears, please, because the heat coming, did you saw?" They said yesterday at the post, hinhin.. " In fact, I immediately noticed the main problem of Michael, his wife. No, she was not there, but judging by the paraphernalia of Glaude dress, I immediately understood that the base designing Mother Michel reserved to her husband, her rotten life with his taste for shit, and make it ridiculous in the eyes of the world to punish him for not giving his wife the life she dreamed of, because she wanted a domain where love is king and where she would be queen, Claude.
The guy was so muffled up in a salmon pink shirt from Scotland (10 € at the market), which dripped a tie too blue for Navy (Christmas gift). Everything was poorly packaged in a jacket mid-season swing between green and blue, but had apparently not yet chosen sides (recovered from the brother of Mrs. Claude). On the ground floor of this abomination survived jeans textile rapier I thought extinct since 1987 (40 € 5 in the declawed) that a sprawling two way surreal black loafers on the verge of nervous breakdown (25 € used).
There, bathed in the clammy morning, bending under the weight of his leather briefcase, a drop of sweat beading on his forehead, he was frightened by the curse travelator who took him, for sure, to a day of some shit, I Michel stared at him for 1.7 seconds. At this point, I read in the pure brown of her eyes all the distress of a man manipulated by a female succubus supporting the cause of Satan himself. Alongside this terrifying vision, the idea of a herd of black cats pouncing on me all claws would have seemed comforting. Forgiveness, Michel (Claude or I do not know). I heard your cry for help, but I fear the devil rendered mute.
Mr. President, I ask that sterilizes the woman quickly. Let's not wait another Claude (or Michael, I do not know) to put an end to these horrors.

I wish you good morning.

Cervical Position 8dpo

8:53

Demo Flight Simulator X on iMac.

A Microsoft game on a Mac ... Not but what they want us to believe.
And then there's something wrong with their screenshots. I dunno ... Textures, surely. In my opinion it is rowing.
short then, I have my doubts.

I wish you good morning.

How Quickly Does Flagyl Work?

off without moving the other

Good day,

as part of my campaign personally to the movies, I say, "art", I swallowed the-yet-highly recommended In The Mood For Love , s friend Wong Kar Wai. Yes, the same one that exists currently on empire of refinement and good taste , is it necessary to recall? (Game: The Lesbian Vampire Killers Will it encencé by Cahiers du Cinema: yes / no / issues?).

first observation is reflected in the Best Actor award, the emphasis has clearly been on the cast, to the detriment of the budget music. So yes good, I can already hear voices raised, people s'outrer "Yes, I m'outre, how can we last?" You're kidding! "Call the police!". Because you see, in the middle, we s'outre hyper easily. And I say no, sorry: the background music of the film is borked.
So okay, the main theme can be considered remarkable, but repeated 473 times (I counted) in the film, it quickly becomes tiresome. Even frightening, if you dint like me become a victim of the curse of Dede, who is to appear Andre Rieu each Once the three famous notes of violin sound. And believe me, 473 times is a long time. I ended up in a sweat. * * Schlitch
Then there is the subject of the film itself. (Do not read if you do not want to know they are dying at the end.) Consider a pair A and B. Cutting These two couples are moving into a building in neighboring apartments. Mr. A often goes on business trips, as well as Mrs. B. Mrs. A and Mr. B are often alone, and the dresses of Chinese helping Mrs. A, he began having "feelings" for the latter. There followed a half hours or more, during which Mrs. A strives to turn the ass in front of mine upset Mr. B who, not knowing if it's bacon or pork is as if he had seen nothing but good nonetheless there is no wood either, you understand.
So yes, well, there's the Chinese atmosphere that I will not transcribe here, which means that, effectively, one has the impression that things are happening. Especially when Ms. A will look for noodles and she meets Mr. B in the narrow lane on the music of Andre Rieu. This happens at least fifty times, because she obviously loves much noodles. In short, a film full of nuances, in silence, unspoken, in hands that graze and looks beveled, through which a poem emerges as light that subtle. A jewel of cinema that sublimates the fragility of being, and especially its relationship to the other, tell the connoisseur (Huh? Oh no no, it does not "catch it" not even the end, as you say ...).
For my part, I will summarize my analysis into a citation Bénabar, that came as a pee, so by the end of the film which perfectly captures my feelings about this masterpiece:

I need to be alone I walk
oceanfront
To make the point in contact
elements
But anything that I conclude I must
not be a poet is that it must
Very boring boring
be a seagull dêtre

(Yes, I wanted to quote Nietzsche, but Morticia my carnivorous plant (made me think of you talk about Morticia), I suggested something more inclusive, more "popular" as she said, snapping his jaws. And we must never contradict Morticia. Never.)
I concluded that I can unfortunately not be at the Cannes festival jury, not having the required sensitivity, for example, to assess its value almost philosophical dimension of the sequence where Mr. B to air kiss a rock in a temple in Cambodia.
For five minutes.
Without any dialogue.
...
Besides, if you understand this scene, I invite you to give me a lesson.

Tonight Desperate Housewives s'offira to my skeptical eyes on the little chain that goes up. I rely heavily on this series to get over the unfortunate delusion of In The Mood For Love. Look: 1, 2, 3, 4 ... (Those who understand forgiveness, explain to others).
So tomorrow, I will discuss with strength of character craze brilliant, quirky and cynical of this series which serves as my colleagues. That promises. We'll see what we will see!
Look, I made the phrases in preview: there will the "I love what I is that it's filled with second degree, huh?" Hihi! "the assistant manager or the" Yesh and then you see there is this unhealthy atmosphere You see, the double Thurs actors, a bit like American Beauty. "from the base computer / critical in his spare time to Carrefour Knowledge . Without forgetting the " Han and brown, then the one with the ch'veux, it is too boOonne! " commercial.
(No, do not tell me, Leo, I know you got the same at home.)
Tonight, millions of viewers will have a revelation, and me too.
Finally, normally ...

I wish you good morning.

How Do You Reinstall Wlan Card

Cry, unless you piss

Jean-Philippe
03/2003 - 12/2005

Ladies, gentlemen, is not without some emotion that I must tell you, with five months of pain behind the tragic death of Jean-Philippe, yucca and friend, took place in its second year.
disease, yes sir, illness, decided to bring in limbo my old companion in misfortune, after several weeks of terrible suffering, of course (not because when we called "the disease" should be doing things as they should). So much so, that I dare not describe the circumstances under which this atrocious little dear has left us.
...
Okay, so I say: I do not know what happened, it rotted from within. Si

What's crazy is that outside there was aware of nothing. He always looked well, serene. And then suddenly, the leaves lose their green yesteryear to become yellowish. Finally, I resigned myself to him in a tear, to establish a Diagnostic, and because I had always secretly wanted to make him suffer (Huh? No no, I have not talked to suffer m'enfin, a little outfit ...) and inside the trunk was filled with more ...
(Shit, I do not know what's in the trunk of a yucca when it is not rotten.)
short, it was no longer filled with [insert stuff here yucca], but in a blackish substance and extremely nauseating, admittedly.
Well, do not mince our words: Jean-Philippe, on his deathbed, stank ....
Jean-Philippe, was the next Yucca dormant in all of us (yes, looking good, not right, here ...), it was the deadly sting of a leaf as sharp as lurking in the shade, was a touch green and dusty in a gray and dusty.
But Jean-Philippe, was also a friend, a confidant, a shoulder (well, not) mellow (either) and welcoming (yet) on which it was good to pour out (well not finally).
Jean-Philippe was finally an accomplice, always willing to commit the worst crimes. Let us remember that under the kidnapping of fabulous fleafou , fomented by Jean-Philippe and myself, at other times, other blogs. Also note that the victim has since raised the green flag on his blog, probably a sign of mourning, you know, Stockholm syndrome and all ...
Decidedly he was not good to be green in 2005, which is yucca or even blog ...

Adieu, Jean-Philippe, may you rot in a soil more fertile than the one that saw you born, and give your life to turn a pack of small yuccas all the more sadistic than the others, who I hope your work will perpetuate.

(If you want to leave a little note, a book of condolences is available at the bottom of this post.)

I must leave you, it's still very fresh in my memory, so I'll withdraw in silence to go alone in my Chouin neighborhoods (Hein ? Play? Oh no, no, you do not think ...).

I wish you good morning.

Funny Stuff To Write On Cake

Reasonable

I do not know if you noticed, but I think the jokes, or even simple references to Maite , it really has not aged well.
Here, besides this post smells a little musty, the coup.
Yes, because before, when we wanted to talk about a fat lady a bit ridiculous, or just big, they talked about Maite, you see. They said "no but Haaan watching this one, it seems Maite, huhu.". Then everyone burst out in heart. It was fun, you know, friendly.
Now, all the Maite world has forgotten, and I do not even talk about this brave Micheline.
bad. I also think we urgently need a new big, on TV, because otherwise how will people do ...
I needed to say.

So if talking about this typical restaurant / lodging doubtful / Shabby move that took the honor for having me the other night. No, but tell me, in the end, dammit! It starts with the boss looks like a fridge door that is not damn tell me whether or not this is possible or not.
"We come tonight and we will both ." I say that Michelle's mother. (Both is a number between 4 and 6, limits excluded, you have two hours)
"Both ?" she says "Let's see."
V'la she began to think in eyeing the four chairs that are dueling in the cubbyhole that serves as dining room, so we were not that much.
"Well, err yes then agreed as , around 20:30, okay?"
"Heck yeah."
...
So here we go, limping clopant, and the way we could meet a large ... (Ah, it makes me sign board that is not: here we go, period.)
We put our coats we did not, and someone comes up with a card-shaped pig, so if we say "good time tonight if you want y 'to eat it. Point.." Yes, because you understand, to give the appearance of a cottage nice and friendly, nothing like making a single menu, that way everybody eats the same thing, nobody wants to bite you and that your fries we must recognize that it is still very significant. And then, well, I must admit that it's much less boring for the cook, eh. Not good but what bin at the end, what does that mean those restaurants that give us a choice? Huh? They will be glad when all the chefs will have died of exhaustion and even exhaustion.
So good, as a le monde avait choisi le même menu, du coup, j'ai pris la même chose que tout le monde, et le type au cochon, là, il avait l'air rassuré.
Ca a commencé par une soupe aussi verte qu'elle en avait l'air, avec des feuilles de machin dedans. La dame avec sa tête de frigo nous a posé la soupière sur la table, et pis elle est partie, genre "démerdez-vous". Moi, ne pas nous servir la soupe, j'ai trouvé ça louche. Mais bon les autres disaient que "Ahah c'est sympa et convivial".
Bon.
Personnellement je n'ai jamais ressenti un quelconque plaisir à servir une assiette de soupe, hein, mais après tout chacun son truc.
La soupe était bonne, merci. Malgré while I could not take my head that the soup is primarily flavored hot water for cutting hunger, but it's probably because I, sir, I know that c is that hunger! It's not like all these idiots who spend their days in train ... (Ah, it makes me sign board that is not: I do not really know what it is that hunger.)
This was followed by a plate of risotto "vegetarian" with a salad as green she looked like. I told myself in my fort boyar inside that "vegetarian" was a way a little mat to tell us we have no meat because it expensive and that the coup is made less profit per pigeo ... customer. But others found it still as nice and friendly and also super original. Si

Rice and salad.
Original.
...
And then the lady came to tell us refrigerator desserts. I was shocked, for he had the choice, there. I almost asked her if she was not too tired, so, as she had done several desserts, if she would not sit back for five minutes, all that drinking a glass of water. But actually no, I did not want to risk a darker surroundings as nice. And friendly.
is the gentleman who brought me pig my pie.
Finally ...
Technically, it was actually a pie. Apart from that I generally, I prefer when the dough is baked, but hey, I see you coming, you still tell me I'm looking for the little beast. And you'd be right, since everyone feasted with great fanfare as "mmmmhh" and other small screeching that for technical reasons, I unfortunately can not reproduce here.
Well, finally found the meeting very nice meal and friendly, especially since it cost only five euros per guest, with two bars and the ridiculously small pitcher of pink understood. "Reasonable." As they say, taking a serious head who knows Mr. Price, who plays the stock market.
It must come from me, but five euros for a plate fleet, Bolino a salad and a piece of pie home Tricatel, it stuck with me a little bit on the stomach. Like what, it does no good to s'empifrer ...

I wish you good morning.

Driver Model 5187urf2

Five simple steps for your environment

A short post where there will still be time to talk about poop.

1. Take public transit, but try to keep the arms along the body, thank you.
2. Rinse your mouth thoroughly after Ricoré the morning, especially if you are forced expansion to take an elevator with me, saying a phrase like "pfffffff, I'm exhausted."
   
3. Wash your hands after poop, especially if you're at work. In general, avoid going to poop on your work (although I already mentioned this, but what do you is the fight of a lifetime).
4. Noise pollution is a scourge against which you can actively fight. Shut up.
   
5. Help fool World Day against the global warming (which, unless we act now, can qu'agraver point No. 1).

I wish you good morning.