2009

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Culo Rico De Jenifer Lopez

What is Christmas?

"I must say, first of all, that Marley was dead. Thereupon, no doubt. The Register burial was signed by the pastor, his clerk, the undertaker and the principal mourner. Scrooge signed it. "

Charles Dickens, 1843.

For many people, Christmas is above all family. Erratum .
family and commercial.
But why should we wait for Christmas to see people like? Should not we do throughout the year?
Obviously, there are all the requirements of our working lives spent running in one direction or another. Who has time? Person. And are we so interested in seeing this old drunk uncle more once a year? Maybe not.
However, it must be recognized that our social relationships are very different from those of the past. We are generally much more individualistic than our predecessors.

Fortunately things do not change.

Christmas is a celebration of traditions. The opportunity to remember how good it feels to live with his family and friends. The occasion to remember.
Remember what?

The answer is personal to each of us.

For me, it is primarily the birth of Christ.
Indeed. I confess. I am a believer. What
taboo!
Without being a member of any religious sect, or adept at the point of spending my Sundays at church, I am still very religious. Every Christmas, I listen to certain parts of Jesus of Nazareth and Passion of Christ . Yes, tears to the eye.
And why not? Christmas is that, after all.

And I would argue that Christmas is the biggest day of remembrance in the West is that I am attached to a bunch of disparate memories. A whole bunch of different sketches that fill me with joy every year. At the top

This list throne The Muppet Christmas Carol with Gonzo, the ghosts of the Marley family and the terrifying Ebenezer Scrooge. I also like The Fool of the World and the flying ship , this story of a Russian peasant wedding by asking the daughter of Nicolas II, aided by his friends, all possessing extraordinary powers. And then remember how
Cinema Gift ? The Ballad of the Daltons ? Or Asterix and Caesar's surprise ?
Christmas is also a lot of songs. And for me, nothing can surpass the songs expressed during the midnight mass. At my most beautiful celebration.
So from Robert Marien. It shepherds assemble us , Minuit Chrétien , Come Divine Messiah , etc..
And who could forget the most beautiful songs? Christmas in Jerusalem by Enrico Macias .
In fact, Christmas is not just that religion is not it?
So add to my playlist: The Santa Claus s'tun Quebec and Deck the Halls.

What else?

The pie, cookies decorated with icing in the colors of the North Pole elves, the Grand Marnier. What else
yet?
Catching Macaroni, a spoon in the mouth, the tree all decorated, children playing with new toy of the moment, the macaroni salad served at two o'clock in the morning.
Christmas is all this.

And why not?

Fortunately things do not change.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Tex Capacity Exceeded Sorry Input Stack Size

Officially the worst movie of the year!

Inglorious Basterds.

I never thought of writing a movie review here. Never.
But this movie was so bad, so bad that I could override the transaction here to castigate the grandiose excesses of inaccuracy and degradation theatrical.
And say I wanted to see this movie for so long!

I finally decided to wait for his prophetic DVD release, rather than spending unnecessary to purchase a popcorn and a large Pepsi.

So what Inglourious Basterds? A fantasy

rammed disgust, topped by a layer of cream idyllic patriotic American. The
"Inglourious Basterds" is a unit of fighters from the United States whose primary purpose is to kill as many Nazi soldiers as possible.
Until then, almost laudable.

If Obviously, it is considered "honorable" the killing of privates and corporals who had nothing to do, nor will any operations at Auschwitz-Birkenau. But there
particular. Very particular.
this commando soldiers in terror, cartoons obvious common idiot living in the United States and leading by Guantanamo and the suspension of rights and freedoms for Muslim communities, is a commando who must kill his victims in literally scalping the heads of poor devils crossing the path of this claim unit.

revenge legalize torture and arbitrary, why not?
Canada has done you say? Returning

.

Not content to spread terror in Germany, Inglourious Basterds participates in a heroic operation to burn alive the executive officers and Nazi officials.
Goebbels, Bormann, Hitler, Goering, etc..
And guess what?
They do!
Lord!
What fantasy!

The reality is far from this dream girl. Q. Tarantino, as a good patriot cynical and a bit silly, succeeds where the U.S. Army has yet failed. Who ended the war? The pompous or Patton's Army red? Exact
.
Without the Soviets, Germany is still Nazi.
File closed.

So how this movie ends? In
fishtail.
SS Colonel, a leader with intelligence and manipulation, is suddenly at the end of the film's most ridiculous fool of all Germany, falling headlong into the more predictable and ridiculous ambush of history of cinema.

Bravo! Clap! Clap!

Who pays for years of dictators, while at the same time preaching democracy?

Right. The United States.

Beau propaganda film, Mr Goebbels.
Oops! Tarantino!

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Men In Ladies Underwear Pic

Halloween, Part 3!

Damn! I have no time to do anything!
With my apologies, here's my final story for Halloween.
Happy reading!

What To Wear Retirement Ceremony

Dorval (part 3, 24 November 2009)

"I leave here. Immediately! "Yann
laid his hand on the frail door handle ice.
A click. Nothing else.
The door was now locked.

"Wow! You've seen the size of the staircase? "Kevin had
eyes now is accustomed to the darkness. In addition, he did not notice at all that was still frozen Yann before the door.
"I wonder what he may well be at the top. Damn, look at all these old furniture. "

Yann wanted to talk. It could not. He could no longer do. He was completely paralyzed by fear.

"This chair needs to have a thousand years. Check it Kev! "Nicolas
contemplating an old wooden chair, and full of tarnished son spider.
He continued: "Yann, check it out!
- Yann? "Kevin had turned
too.
"Yann, what are you doing here? Come see! There is nobody here.
Alex was the first to rush to his brother. Her eyes betrayed anxiety, anxiety.
"Yann, it will not? What is it?
- leave ... I want to leave.
- What is it? Yann! You're starting to scare me! "But
Yann could no longer find the strength to talk more.
His brother did not know what to say or think. Now it was the bravest of the family.
Steve gave a great blow to the back of his friend.
"What are you doing, shit?
- I think it's wrong. Look at him. "Nicolas
also seemed not to understand Yann fears.
"Yann, tell me what happens. Tell me. "
Kevin looked straight into the eyes of his best friend. Eyes that seemed completely extinguished. There was no response.
"Tell me Yann! Talk to me! "Kevin
lost patience. He had never seen his friend this way.

Long minutes passed, long minutes of silence.

"I think I have no desire at all to visit this house. "It
Alex who had just clarify that. All
nodded.
Alex turned back to Yann, now sitting on the floor and turned the doorknob.
The door opened. Yann

not cared about anything. The door he had attempted to open a few moments earlier was now open. The pumpkin was not turned inwards, but to the small path.
not matter.
Yann was thunderstruck.
He always saw his brother and two friends, but as bewildered in a strange fog. The fear was so intense, that the spirit of Yann had seen fit to remove the fear in some strange dreams more reassuring.
A field of barley. A fire behind the house. Pretty
memories.

" How to carry it? "Alex
in the half-open door, stared at his brother's friends.
"Wait! Maybe we could find some water? To try to wake him. I do not know me ...
Anyway, we will never carry it. "Nicolas
walked swiftly toward the interior of the house.
Towards the darkness.

The cold wind rushing through the door. The three candles flickered pumpkin growing.
Alex closed the door.

"Alex, stay with your brother. Me and Nic are going to try to find water. "Kevin rushed
therefore also to the interior of the house.

A strange scene. Yann
was slumped over a dusty rug placed just before the opening of the door. His brother was holding his neck as if he had refused to abandon his favorite teddy bear. Around it all was darkness, darkness.
was almost complete silence, broken only by footsteps and whispers of Kevin and Nicolas, while engaged in the large wooden staircase. Yann
was not asleep. He dreamed, half-awake, completely banned by fear. He thought
to a TV. One of the show.
cartoons and a glass of hot chocolate.
Her mother stood before him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. And whispered that dinner would soon be ready.
Yann did not care, he listened to the cartoons. Popeye and Scrooge.
Her mother, slim and pretty, went to open the front door.
"I think you should leave"
Leave? But to where?
"The door is open, sonny! "Yann
turned to his mother. He wondered why she opened the door like that.
He did not understand.
Go where?
Door ? The door ...

Yann returned to him.
Alex opened the door a few minutes before. Few minutes or hours? Yann could not tell.
Certainly now he remembered everything. The grin of the pumpkin, Dorval Road, the small wooden bridge.
In this strange house.
He had to leave. But where, golly, were his two friends and his little brother?

Yann rose painfully based on what looked like an old coat hanger.
He looked around him.
Person.
The door was always locked. Outside, the three candles being extinct, it was now impossible to distinguish the pumpkin. Was she even there yet? The feeling of fear
Yann faded in favor of the need for urgency.
He had to leave.
He shouted: "Hey! Where are you? "
No answer. Yann
peered ahead. No sign of life.
He went to the next room and up the stairs.

The room was gloomy. Large dark walls lined what looked like a bunch of antique tapestries. Several furniture from another era. Old chairs, coffee table, an old wardrobe now outdated.
What was that? A sort of antechamber
possibly leading to the kitchen and living room. A "passage". Yann
wondered what to do. If he was heading to the kitchen, he would probably find another door. Closed? Maybe. It would then take any blunt weapon to break the handle or window. And downstairs, there was still some light.
other hand, which could well be his friends?
Up? In the dark?

"Yann! I'm on top! Help! "

was the cries of her little brother, Alex. Yann
climbed four at the stairs.

Shouts seemed to come from the first room to the left just ajar, emitting a smell of sulfur and low light yellowish. Yann
entered it.

No description could effectively describe this Yann lives in that time. Kevin and Nicolas were standing at the back of the room. The low light of an oil lamp lit up the faces of his two friends, who now had no eyes. Their mouths were draped with pieces of dark fabrics. Blood flowed
their empty eye sockets.
They were dead. Yann
this time does not collapse. He thought of leaving. From. To shatter any window that would stand in his way to leave this cursed place.
The sense of urgency had won. Yann
stepped back and turned, ready to abandon this place at full speed.
But it was too late.

Alex stood between him and the door.

Yann collapsed on the floor. Two certainties

invaded Yann in that fateful moment. The first is that this one was not Alex's little brother. The second, equally important that the Halloween pumpkins were placed inside houses. Why? To protect occupants from evil spirits that lurked outside. Where was asked
pumpkin that funeral home?
Outside.
To preserve the people of what was inside the house. Simply
.

Friday, October 30, 2009

South Florida Stomach Virus

Halloween, Part 2!

Here, as promised, the second part of my story yesterday.

Be here tomorrow for the conclusion;)

Samsonite Forget Combination Lock

Dorval (Part 2, October 30, 2009)

Young Thus began the road in the dark. Bicycles left
thin furrows on a floor covered with more snow. Everything was silent. In the distance there were some absurd and strange noises, but nothing to disrupt the ongoing sentiment felt by our youth.
A weird feeling. As they were walking on ground never before trod. As they were entering a place not really exist.
The journey seemed endless at all. At each bend in the road, even large trees threatening to obscure the same slope drawing away.
the darkness almost complete.
Yet our Friends still progressing quite well. They relied on the outlines sketched by vegetation that ran along the dirt road, and the moon that showed his nose through the spruce and fir trees, like a lantern in the middle step of the underworld.
They crossed small streams on two occasions. There were also large hills to climb, and finally found themselves overlooking a large mountain, which was located more than six or seven miles from their starting point.

"Hey! Look! We arrived at the top of the big hill! Just have to lower it and we'll be almost there! "Nicolas
shouted with excitement. The other three seemed completely exhausted by physical effort.
"Nico, you do not even think when we get off that mountain bike?
-No. We should leave here and continue on foot. "Yann
was satisfied with that answer. They then drove
bicycles along the road and began to descend in the dark this enormous escarpment.
It was impossible to envisage any other scenario.
The drop was far too large and, moreover, was made slippery with all that snow fell during the last hours. A truck or all terrain would have struggled to climb here, and this, in full summer day.
So they went down. They chutèrent sometimes. There were also a few rolls in the snow. Kevin broke his pants even believing always be on the way, when in fact he walked into the ditch.
At the bottom, our quartet rested a bit and went to the old wooden bridge spanning the river Dorval. Beyond were the famous waterfalls and, further, the three peaks of clay where Kevin had come early to raise raspberries.

"It's not there, says Nicolas. Take the small path just before the bridge. "Decidedly
, Nicolas had a lot more to say than usual. They saw each
their steps and then, after some effort, found the right path. A small path completely hidden under the branches of trees and ferns frozen. Nicolas
embarked on the path.
"Damn, but what do you take? you've already been here or what? "
Yann did not seem happy at all. He began to feel cold and even though he was the bravest of the group, became increasingly fearful at the prospect of engaging in this passage obscure.
He did not know why, darkness began to really scare him.
Meanwhile, Nicolas ignored the question of his friend. He merely said: "Come! Over here! "Kevin looked
Yann and his brother. Kevin seemed tired and discouraged. Little Alex, meanwhile, was busy with some musings known only young children.
Nobody said a word. And, curiously, as if they were arrested by the Devil himself, engaged in the narrow path.

The wait was not very long.
They saw the house.
A forgotten house of cards and plans. A house of forgotten people. Forgotten God ...

A large Victorian nineteenth century, having absolutely nothing to do there. Anachronistic and inexplicable, certainly, but equally majestic. All wood. Large windows and threatening obsolete. A wide porch overhung by huge beams Scots. Perhaps the cherry.
Two large floors topped here and there with large windows with rectangular windows.
In front of a massive dark door, almost giving the impression of a gaping mouth leads directly into the entrails of a monster. A monster
majestic, all-in-fact. But also
very old.
Many broken windows. A gray and cracked wood. An old brown dust on the steps leading to the porch and on window sills.
Part of the chimney was also collapsed, leaving the ground a pile of broken bricks haggard.
Add to this picture a thin snow cover, a dark and cloudy night, a heavy silence and, scattered everywhere, many grass fueling the feeling of abandonment and imprisonment. A table
strange.
Who wanted to go there?
Person.

"What's that? "Yann
pointed an orange object that illuminated the front of the house. A small dim light.
"It's a house," said Kevin.
- No, I'm talking about this orange object over there before the house. "They approached

so all four.
Suddenly, Yann felt his blood run cold.
was a pumpkin. Placed on a table in front of the stairs to the porch. A horrible grin carved out the flesh of the squash. Two large triangular eyes.
Three candles. One inside the fruit, the other two on each side.

"I do not like it at all! Damn, why is there a pumpkin at this point?
Let's get out! "Kevin was really
in shock. Suddenly, he would have liked to be elsewhere. Not before this house and before this nightmare sneer yellow-orange, but in the streets of Alma, picking some caramels. The city seemed so far away now. Yann
dared say a word. Completely frozen at the sight of pumpkins.
Meanwhile, Nicolas will not display at all his assurance earlier. He wanted his father to be there. And for once, he would have preferred to be away from Yann.

In the distance, an owl screamed. Some of the wind rustling in the trees.

"If there is a pumpkin is that the people inside are distributing sweets! "
Everyone turned to Alex.
It's amazing how the words of a child can sometimes dispel all fears.
Suddenly, they were almost all reassured.
Almost.
Kevin knocked on the door. There was no answer.
They went all-in-itself.

When the door closed, it is unclear how, Yann realized with horror that not only in snow were those of his brother and his two friends. How someone could he put that pumpkin on the table? Yann
turned, hoping to leave soon.
What he saw through the window was beyond human understanding.
Pumpkin, previously turned outwards and the small path, was now facing them. Looking inside the house. Yann
The heart froze in horror.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Grooping Animals Games

Halloween!

As Halloween in a few days, I decided to compose for you a little story of circumstances. In three parts. The first, entitled "Dorval (Part 1 October 29 2009.) "Is published today.

The second tomorrow and finally the grand finale on Saturday.

Happy reading!

Wie Heißt Milena Velba Wirklich

Dorval (Part 1, October 29, 2009)

October 31. The day of the dead.
What is what may scare young teenagers in there? Everyone knows that Halloween is simply a commercial holiday. For the youngest, a quest to collect sweets for the rest of the year. For older children the opportunity to read Bram Stoker or listen to the new horror movie.
A simple possibility for people to entertain and warm up a bit, while Christmas is still very distant, and that winter is already upon us. A feast
stupid, then?

is well believed that our four friends who stood backed the amounts of an archaic old cedar fence, this cold October evening.
Four youths, aged between nine and fifteen years, for whom the threat of ghosts and witches do not represent more than the other chimeras of this ilk.
Well, almost everyone. Alex, this little redhead puny nine years as a cheerful pink and elves from the North Pole, believed all these stories.
year last, his big brother had made him listen Exorcism and he was still shaken. No doubt to him that the devil did exist. Hidden somewhere in the neighborhood. In the bushes.
Alex, however, was more of a burden for others than anything else.
He was there because "mom" wanted Yann wins. Yann, his older brother by 15 years, and somehow the leader of this band.
There was also Kevin, chubby and with almost looks like an adult, and Nicolas, thin and not very talkative, which would have followed Yann anywhere.
latter two had all fourteen both.

Our four friends stood against the fence, and all wondered what to do. Alex would have liked to collect sweets, but Yann, down from its fifteen years, refused to go to the clown in front of all these homes to meet his little brother. For his part, Kevin was receiving tons of sugar each week of his mother, now separated and living at the other end of town. No need of October 30 to satisfy his appetite and waistline. As for Nicolas, he was just there. It was in Transylvania if Yann had lived there.
As simple as that.
These are life circumstances that are inscrutable. Our group could, like many others, walking the streets picking candy and gum.
Our group could disguise himself.
But this was not the case.

"What can we do?
- No idea. "Kevin looked
Yann absently, with a hint of bitterness in his eyes.
"As long as nothing, I may as well go home.
- Everyone is picking up some candy right now, stressed Yann.
- We could perhaps go for a stroll to the end of the road Dorval? "Alex
soon fades. Yann and Kevin turned to Nicolas, who had just proposed this idea.
They were vaguely surprised, firstly, that Nicolas dares to propose an idea and, secondly, that this idea was going to walk in the most dismal place throughout the city of Alma. Yann
scratched the snowy ground with his boot black, then said quickly: "And what we would do there?
- My father once told me that there was an old house in the background, near the falls, Nicolas growled. A house that once served as housing for people of a religious sect. I wonder if she is still there. "
Alex hid her face in her hands.
Nobody said a word for a long time. Their minds wandered.
the distance, the last rays of sun pierced the sky already heavily laden clouds.
few flakes here and there. A
I indescribably grim and fascinating at the time in this strange scene. Four young silent about the fate of the evening, as night fell seriously on this little road to the few houses.
It was said not one October evening, but rather far advanced on November 1.
One winter evening a lot more than Halloween ...

Yann Kevin looked, and finally Nicolas, and said, "Okay. Let's go.
- And if there are still people out there? "Asked Kevin.
- We will have to return here. People have every right to walk, right? And anyway, it is true that there was already a cult there and it's still there, then we will have to convert! "Obviously
, Yann joking.
- I doubt that people are still there. Dad said it was in the seventies. The house is probably all rotten, "said Nicolas.
- Nico Frankly, asked Kevin, since when do you take an interest in old houses?
- I went to Val-Jalbert last year!
- Who cares. "All
then began to laugh.
Except Alex. The red-haired boy of nine years was terrified. But he loved his brother and had great confidence in him. Then he dared not oppose the will of the group. Besides, he knew that most of the time he was a burden for Yann. So he tried to have as little as possible differing opinions of others. Moreover, it never showed her fear. At least in words.
Because yes, he was afraid.
And in this dark hour when the quartet embarked on the path to Dorval Cycling, Alex might just save. If he had only opposed resistance. If he had threatened to complain to mom and dad, everything would have been different.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Halal Restaurant Buenos Aires

Beatles, what is the best version?

Indeed, there are two official versions of the musical material devoted to the Beatles. The first, most widespread, is often associated with Great Britain. The second is largely confined to the public of the United States and Canada.
Before entering the heart of the matter and assess the notable differences between the two products, we allow some preliminary remarks.

First, we must know that the version of the United States, U.S. repealed, no longer in production in Canada. Since the advent of the CD in the early 90s, this version has become increasingly rare. Yet, from 1963 to 1989, it was this version that was legitimate here. I do not know the precise motivations of Apple and Capitol Records, but one can believe that they decided to cut the costs associated with duplication of equipment the Beatles muscial.
This is also the same in the United States. At this writing, the new remastered albums sold in the U.S. appear to be the same and here is the English version - or UK -.
will review the album-you one U.S. one day? Nothing says ...

Why are there two versions? Very simple.
The output of 33 rpm albums in the United States was often delayed compared to the output in the United Kingdom. Result? In America, more time to make albums of higher quality, with also the possibility of incorporating recorded material belatedly. That
. UK Albums

Please Please me
With The Beatles
A Hard Day's Night
Beatles For Sale
Help!
Rubber Soul Revolver

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band Magical Mystery

Tour White Album Yellow Submarine

Let It Be Abbey Road

So 13 albums. In 1988, we added to this musicography another album: Past Master. This album allowed Beatles fans to finally listen to tracks from the albums still neglected by English. So today, we consider the version from Great Britain as a label of 14 albums.
additionnal Note: Contrary to official edicts, I placed Abbey Road as the last album, rather than Let It Be . The reason is simple. The songs from the album Abbey Road were the last recorded by the group . Let It Be was released later, but his equipment is older than the previous album. Albums

U.S.
Twist And Shout
Meet The Beatles
The Beatles 'Second Album
A Hard Day's Night Original Soudtrack
Something New
Beatles 65'
Beatles VI
Help! Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Rubber Soul Yesterday ... And Today Revolver

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band Magical Mystery

Tour White Album Yellow Submarine

Hey Jude Let It Be Abbey Road

18 albums. The entire Beatles musicography is present here. No song is missing. Even the songs are instrumental in this portrait. Special note: according to my classification, Beatles' Second Album and Beatles VI are respectively three and seven albums The reason is simple. The Beatles arrive in America in 1964 with Meet The Beatles . It has therefore from that.

Analysis:

mention, first, that I am therefore entitled to determine for you the best version of Beatles albums. I have indeed each disk imaginable, both those of the United States than the United Kingdom. Gone With 33 laps that materials on compact disc. In fact, I have all. Including rare albums, compilations, etc..

(Drum roll ...) The U.S. version

wins and it is unequivocal.

All songs are included in the U.S. version. In addition, the albums Hard Day's Night Original Soundtrack and Help! Original Motion Picture Soundtrack are not only simple but full albums hearing the two films of the same name. The song Help! is different, the introduction is complete. The album Rubber Soul is higher than its counterpart from Great Britain. A more folk, sweet, special.
Hey Jude, Do not Let Me Down , Ballad Of John & Joko , We Can Work It Out , Paperback Writer , etc.., Are all available songs only in the United States.
In England Will not possible to hear these songs on 33 rpm. In fact, through Past Master is feasible. The catch? Only since 1988. Before? Only 45 laps.
Moreover, as there are more albums, so there are more album covers. In short, the evolution of the group pictures is more significant.
Beatles Experience is more comprehensive through the U.S. version. Sound more authentic. The "feel" more real. The full smile.
As simple as that.

So why this version is it increasingly abandoned?
I do not know. Probably because the English version is considered more authentic because of its widespread availability around the world. For, indeed, the U.S. version was limited to the market in North America. Also note that the discs from Great Britain came out on the market some time Advent those of the United States. And where are the Beatles?
From Liverpool.
Liverpool is in England.
That, ultimately, the only explanation.

For U.S. albums are better.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Messages For Wedding Program

Forgetting is not dust-

Why do I think about that tonight?
I do not know.

We are all different. We all have things we are taking to heart for different reasons. To this dark past, nostalgia events and circumstances that may or may not evoke good feelings.
A memory attached to that first kiss. A ARTEFAC associated with this event occurring to the banks of a fire.
A picture or a song.

For me, this object can be found in the dust. Under
lot of dust.

Imagine this old garage 80s. A cottage too small to include a car, but also too big to serve only to Apenta. Coverage bland and pale white sheets. A simple iron fireplace brightened a dark witch hat.
within a broad bric-a-brac. Lots of effects accumulated over the years.
There all a bunch of miscellaneous tools. In the other corner, piles of wood arranged so haggard.
disks. Revolver leaving the lot, as if it had been used recently. A bicycle, old and worn. A lawn mower. Various materials: wood, glass, pieces of steel, tin.
Some fantastic figurines painted in red. Old furniture. A clock mode of the Sacred Heart. A sketch of autumn.

All this under a pile of dust.

There is also something else. At the back of a motorcycle. Yamaha Virago 750 XVK 1983.
She is always there. Gutted, murdered. Bruised.
Long ago, we tried a restore. Missing budgets, as well as desire and the project was abandoned.
It looks at all that what once was. Now, this is only a skeleton dissected. A kind of remembrance of the ravages of time.
Yet it is still there. Pieces.
No more rear wheel. The seat is gone, as well as the fuel tank; be prominent on any motorcycle.
Tires are cracked. Most globes are broken. All chrome has been removed. The exhaust, chrome and pretty old, no longer exists. The steps are distant memories.
nuts all seem dull or rust-ridden.
But it's still there.

The engine seems intact, as well as the chassis. The front wheel is still in this strange portrait. Finally, the front consisting of lights and dials, remains substantially unaltered.
Looks like a look. Vague and worn.
A look that refuses to die.

missing pieces to complete oxidises in the attic.

But it's still there.

hundred times my father would have wanted to get rid of it. Percent When I refused.
It is too much for me.
My first test on a motorcycle. My best pictures. My driver's license. My first excursions around Lake St. John. All my high school diaries.
My father going to work when I was younger. The starter refusing to comply. A romantic getaway between my parents. The secret passage behind Heggins . Rashel.

Freedom.

No chance that I can get rid of.

I wish I was close to her. But why?
She is patient.
She knows that I will return one day for her.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Example Of A Car Offer

Bridget Jones

I was asked this week, quite simply, if I wrote a journal.
My response was scathing. "Me, write a diary? Lord Never!"

In fact, I have some aversion to people in general who write diaries. Certainly a consequence of my previous relationships.
However, it is necessary here to explain that these antipathies are not based solely on the vagaries of disparate memories and bygone days. But more on simple concepts of psychology related to the generic communication between two people.

Come what are the possible reasons to write a diary

1 - The biography .
(The less common)
The person who writes a newspaper this way transposes writing almost every day, a bunch of different elements good and bad. His sentiments vis-à-vis a new event, this action should not have to ask, this beautiful day spent fishing with his son, etc.. The goal here is not just on paper translate the complexities of his life, but rather to build a receuil in which that person may refer to the occasion to remember.
This book is neither good nor bad. He "is". And the person who wrote this type of diary no gaps in communication order. However, it is a rare case.

2 - The atoning.
(Common)
People who write this kind of diary are burdened with heavy problems in relationships. People who lie constantly and / or are unable to live without changing personality to please others. This log type is characterized by gloomy thoughts only. Events black, dark. Feelings of dissatisfaction. Hatred.
Psychologists often suggest that such people still burdened, to write diaries to express feelings. This process fails unfortunately most of the time.

3 - The substitute.
(most common)
Preponderance of the negative in this intimate Jounal. Yes there are some positives, but in much smaller quantities than moody elements. This paper focuses largely on affective episodes. And it is in most cases, the worst enemy of any relationship.
People who write this type of newspaper fleeing conflict situations. They are very sociable in general, but limited ability to express feelings in relationships. In short, they do not communicate.
They use the diary as a relational loophole. they write rather than speak. They hide instead of facing each other. By dint of writing, they come to believe that they are able to manage crisis situations. This, of course, is not the case. Towards each other, they say nothing. At the newspaper, they say it all.
These people use the diary as a drug addict using drugs. To flee to avoid.
Finally, these people still reject the blame on the other.

That's why I'm disinclined to like the authors of diaries. And note that I am writing this article together with a friend at the Masters in psychology.
So think twice the next time you lie down your words on paper. Ask yourself what are your motivations, and whether it would be wiser to face reality ...

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Where Can I Find A Loanshark

Suspisious minds

"I, the world, I want to know where they come from. I want to know where they go.
The world, they can be white, yellow, black, purple, blue with yellow-orange pegs, I Cali. If they want to fight with me, my brothers. So we are not racists. We must stop always apologize.
The problem is Simple: Quebec is a country conquered and annexed by force. Conquered by armed force in 1760 and then annexed by force with the Act-d'Union in 1840.
Confederation, it's just a result of the Act-d'Union.
So Quebecers are a people under a vassal people, a people subservient to another. "

Pierre Falardeau

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Free Men Virtual Haircut

Durham, mission accomplished!

Durham will not have to cause the assimilation of French Canadians in soil of America. No.
He will have to wait.
Quebecers were responsible themselves for this Ambitious project. Not all at it.
Montrealers instead.

You understand where I want to come ? No, no. Not Pierre Vadeboncoeur. At Louise Harel.
The former PQ minister. Responsible for mergers. Longest reigning longevity in a woman on the hill, Quebec. You remember now?

Louise Harel is seeking election to marry in Montreal.
This metropolis of Quebec, subject to XXIV Charles and his lady. At the "Cosa Nostra" of asphalt and Komatsu 750. Water meters with only a hundred tickets. For children
-de-coeur de Montréal-Nord. Two seventy-five dollars to go to one of two stations Laval.

Hands up, stunned.
My neighbors are ignorant dark. Not all, obviously. And my have no intention to injure. Analyzed simply.

There are thirty million people in New York. Does this city is multicultural? Yes.
far as Montreal? Absolutely. more even. Let's say the main
rector of civil order in New York is called "mayor".
we hear it. This
"mayor" (I know, I'm a little cynical), Did he need to speak English, English and Mandarin for daring to run for mayor?
Certainly not.
it is silly, perhaps?
Certainly not.

Harel did not participate in a debate in English. Montreal anglophones should rather buy a translation dictionary. Montreal is a francophone city. Check the charter, dark stunned.

I encountered your souls and consciences? What do I give a shit? Montreal is a francophone city. Supposed tell you one.

Moreover, we say that it is important to open up the world. Indeed. But at what price? At the cost of losing what remains of us?

Hoist the Union Jack on the Place Ville-Marie. Come on! Why not!

Lord! Deeply

returning ultramontanes ...

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Women Using Headscissors

Revenge of Pierre Laporte

outset, specify some details. John Locke, father liberalism, considered the legitimate right of insurrection. Vested right and necessary when abuses of the government. When the government of the nation starves its citizens when it usurps the power or performs acts immoral and it is good to see the populace to rise up.

This fact leads us to some questions.

Can we say that the political world has changed since the eighteenth? Can we consider this notion of "popular uprising" is different from the time of Mirabeau? Is it as easy today to revolt against the powers that be? Not

I will.

Moreover, it is necessary to draw a distinction between rebellion and insurrection. The first term refers, as Hugo puts it, an uprising of a few against the majority. The second revolt of the multitude against a minority. A rebellion

always precedes the general insurrection, revolution.

Robespierre Before there was Danton. Danton before there was Camille Desmoulins. Still further? Jean-Sylvain Bailly.
Before the storming of the Bastille, there was the game of palms.

Rebellion is always the genesis of the insurgency. The "radicals" are always the precursors of political change. Thank you, Derriennic.

There.

Do not get me wrong. It is much more difficult to raise the masses today. And never compare Quebec 70s, with France in May 1968. Light years away from social pressures and various uprisings us apart.

The FLQ is it a rebellion or insurrection? It is certainly a rebellion. Point doubt about it.

He was also one of the disparate elements leading to the 1980 referendum.

At this point it is important to explain some details for those of you who do not trust that "Allo-Police". Also note that it is not prohibited from attending libraries to clean up your minds.

The FLQ was composed of dozens of independent cells. Anyone could claim such affiliation. No contact whatsoever between the members. No plan of action. That acronym.

Murder? Only Chenier. In fact, it is not even true.
No premeditation. Laporte was eating good chicken. He was himself killed by strangulation while trying to escape, while his tormentors were absent.

short, the Quebec Liberal Party is in error. I am not trying to "legitimize" actions of the FLQ, believe me. But it must admit that this movement has had a significant impact on subsequent events. It is also very misunderstood. Returning

. Who are the people who make up the PLQ? The
abandoned asphalt under Duplessis. Friends of Taschereau. Rich English. Francophones who blithely enjoyed the anglicized Quebec during the sixties and seventies. Members of Alliance Quebec. A lot of returns in Europe.
There are also undecided. People who vote as the "family". And, of course, under-educated. Where are the castles of the PLQ? Westmount. Pointe-Claire. Beaconsfield.
Think about it.

Jean Charest refused to apologize?

This shows just how far some politicians are disconnected from reality. Like what some people do just want a new "good" election.

Yes, it's wrong. Otherwise, we should quickly seal of obscurantism all major developments in the West. In the index, the France of 1789. In the index, the Magna Carta-.

Bravo, Liberal Party of Quebec!

Friday, September 4, 2009

Hillsboro Livestock Trailer Wiring Diagram

Ticket to Ride!

At midnight tonight, there will be only three short days very long before the arrival of "The Beatles: Rock Band.
Three days before having the chance to dance and sing my songs favorite of the Fab Four, fitted with a plastic replica of Harrison: guitar Dretsch Duo Jet.
Damn, I think I've waited for this moment all my life!

When I was little, I used to play Rubber Soul by imagining himself to be John Lennon. Then I shut the lights in the basement, light my strobe three colors, and round in circles between the library and the stove, while singing such hits Ticket to Ride and While My Guitar Gently Weeps.

Not everything changes in life, fortunately.
I promise to fulfill those dreams again teen Tuesday evening. As soon as I returned here. With, of course, a copy of the game PS3 Moreover, I will get my camera out of the box Sony, which is useless for about a month.

So you can name it in haste, or fanaticism, as you see fit. Still, I
lot of fun on Tuesday!

* * Updates: My new novel - is a new complex term because I have published anything so far - is well underway. 15 pages already. This may seem little, but be aware that I have time that evening and I have to do a tremendous job of research and preparation so that my project is credible. If you
want to read the first pages, feel free to ask me! Your comments are greatly appreciated!

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Packaged Crab What To Do

A camel on the Jacques-Cartier

Then you're done! Finally.

According to my father, everything went adequately. My ex, of course, was present to supervise the work. My property seem at first glance, honest. I even had a gift! The figurine official housewarming on Pius IX. A horrible smile green delegated directly by her best friend! Yay! Trash!

"Kill Bill" on TV? Of course!

So if I'm lucky, I'll never hear about her. Four times

relationships with guys who are responsible for everything? Four times she has never done nothing wrong? Four times she takes disproportionately? damn, it's bad luck! Fortunately, it's not my problem. I'm not a plastic surgeon, then, frankly, our relationship ends here.

Good!

I suffered enough to endorse the lies of an aristocrat overprotected. you say? A hidden folder?

short, now, think positively. Katryne is really great! I have all my stuff. It that lack of painting! (And a pool one day!)

For those who can read between the lines:
Now I have all the time in the world. I really any time in the world ...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Indian Chanels Frequency

Memories!

I should mention that this post is particularly aimed at my brother.

During my brief return home to my parents, I had the opportunity (will also) of "falling" into the box of photographs. I do not know why. Probably history to remember everything that had been lost. At first, very old pictures. Me, blonde, trying to explore the dark corners of the bathroom. Photos of the wedding of my parents. Photos my father, bearded, working at James Bay.

And here. A picture of my brother with the Grand Schtroupmf. On wheels. Damn he wanted one! Good memories, really. My brother following me, step by step, in the hope of obtaining the coveted figure. A big smile on his face. And I truly too stupid to leave him.

In all, I kept a forty photos. Disparate memories. But all good memories.

fate would have it. I realize I have absolutely no recollection of the sad moments in my life. It's probably better that way.
Without pictures, it is much more easy to move on. Besides, everything is going very well. Oddly, really well too.
My stomach problems disappeared. And though I keep a certain sadness, I now know that communication is what is most important in life.

And that, I'll never need any photo to remember.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Pillows For Straight Bath Tub Back

A classic of Phil Collins!

How can you just walk away from me, When all
i can watch you DO IS leave Cos we've shared
the Laughter & the bread & Events The Tears shared
You're the Only One Who Really Knew me Has all

So take a look at me now, oh There's just an empty space There's nothing
And left here to remind me, Just The Memory of your face Ooh take a look
at me now, well There's just an empty space And you coming back
to Me Is against all odds and that's What I've got to face ...

Chart Of The Black Death

Revenge of insects

Frankly, not many good memories to tell in regard to my bohemian life. Few facts Cocac. But misery. And a lot of memories.

The first night, "squigee" asked me to sub. I told him I like him, that night, on the street. He threw me this strange look. At once sympathetic and disappointed. I burst into tears. Simply.

Know that I am not going to tell you everything that happened my last two nights in Montreal. While I certainly believe writer-notch, I do not probably find the words to explain just a difficult situation.

Imagine you walk the streets at random. Without knowing where to go. Without knowing what to eat. Exhausted. Las. Sad. There. Add to this a deplorable physical condition. The first night, a bed of green moss. With a lot of carnivorous insects moving around me. The second night in a shelter. Empty syringes and grime, my faith, completely indescribable. Ho, and then again from insects. Bedbugs. Thirty-two bites all over my body.

was too. The next day, six visits in which a roommate with a cool girl amateur manga and video games. A look back at history of Pius IX recover some tips: brush my teeth, sweaters and dirty: my electric razoir. Cry of joy. I missed so much!

From that time, return ticket for the Lac-Saint-Jean.

My adventure is very moody, I can well understand. But believe me, you can not grasp how this adventure almost made me lose my mind. I had never experienced so much suffering in my life. I was deprived, simply, all human dignity. Any power to rebound.

And then I wondered a thousand times what I could do well as bad to benefit from such treatment. No response. I am guilty of having been on unemployment for a month and a half. Guilty of having a face to my ex because she does not consult me for buying a GPS.
That's all.

No, there's really nothing else.

Besides, I never had the opportunity to have a real discussion with her. But what is certain is that I did not deserve such an eviction. In fact, I would have anticipated. I should know. She had already mentioned several times that she became very nasty with her always ex.

Very bad? We can say more.

Now, much remains to be done. My parents are not able to help me, since they already face a very difficult financial situation. I do not know where to start so my situation is perilous. But I would find. What else?

"War is a recipe for failure. The failure of the sensible path of talks and negotiations."

A big thank you for supporting Spounz, Marianne and Leiby. People are not all bad ...

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Build Retaining Wall Railway Sleepers

The fall

That should happen some day. Inevitably. 1977, Debby Boone's "You Light Up My Life ..."
Bullshit. And now I'm in the streets. Outside. Roaming. Nothing for me to wash. The same clothes for 4 or 5 days. I never go hungry. I thank in advance those who have hosted this past week. But I had to leave and keep my dignity. So I prefer to sleep in a park that beg for such a thug.

What will I do? No idea. Maybe go to my parents at Alma. But only when all else has failed. I always money. Enough to accommodate me. The only problem is that most visited sites require a deposit of two rents. I did not. If I do not eat for another two weeks, I get to have enough money to get me a room roommate.

And I await news shortly of a roommate I had originally planned, while I stayed still on Pius IX. I wish I could get there sooner.

For the rest, I have not yet contacted my ex. I'm really scared of her and her parents. Its non-veiled threats, and what she could do with my personal stuff. I threatened to go on but I know she would fool. She and her family are so rich they will prefer to completely ruin me, break me as a man, rather than arriving an arrangement.

Maybe do you read these lines? Wonderful time. You can smile at will. You managed to completely destroy me. Yay!

Next move: to check whether the Roman Catholic Church receives me, and if it can really help the most disadvantaged. Otherwise, I will choose my park. And I'll watch the sky all night wondering what I could do so incredible to deserve such punishment.

Tomorrow afternoon, I will return here in the National Library of Quebec, to keep you informed of my first night as qu'itinérant. Beautiful stories in perspective ...

Friday, August 14, 2009

Christian Phrases Of Faith

Hail Mary!

When all hope is lost, when everything collapses around you, there is always a last chance. In football, game is called the Hail Mary. A desperate long pass. A final battle cry. The worn and weary soldier who gets up one last time to confront her rival.

"No One Knows What It's Like, To Be a sad man ..."
- The Who
"The heart of a man is rockier than acidic soil."
- Stephen King

Yesterday evening, after many phones the police of Montreal and the housing authority, I came to this conclusion: the Law and Justice can do nothing against an individual (s) completely blinded by hatred and revenge. As simple as that. Ahhhh, how beautiful the whole aristocracy to dummy values and gleaming Jaguars. Hundred acres of fields and bribes wines. Damn, I love it!

So I had kind. Go-go in the Latin Quarter. Some prostitutes. Some Pimps. All encased in a black reluquats calling me a "fucking asshole". And this suggests to me that Quebec to travel to St. Elizabeth. A bar on the corner of the same name and Saint Catherine. Thunderbolt. The most beautiful terrace I saw in my life.

A magical place. A dark bar, black. An arch at the bottom of the wall. Past the arch, we're outside, in a forgotten and lost souls. A large enclosed patio and enclosed by walls of great high-style Middle Ages. Large trees that rise up to heaven.

There was no Cointreau. But the Good Rum. Very good even. One lady even paid me a drink!

I found a contact for work in the field of radio. I received smiles, and I met a wine lover and former resident of Oka. Finally, I got out of there all drunk.

to McDonald, history Contributes to the regeneration of my saturated fat, I participated in an exchange which quickly became very aggressive. A man of thirty might be ordering a Big Mac. Six feet two, easily. A long black shirt. Impressive.
He discusses the pretty waitresses in English. I let him order and will see it.

"You should" talk French, man. Sorry, we are not objective in Great Britain Here. Gotcha? "

He says he speaks englais to speak the same language as the waitresses. However, it was wrong. The waitresses were also speaking as Gilles Vigneault. I'll sit down.

Now he comes to my table. At two inches of my fried golden brown. And there, cunt, I began to speak French.

"Do not tell me how to speak, idiot. I'll do what I want." Fucking Frenchie "Looking for trouble?" Our friend is waving his fists. I'll reçcevoir a slap, a matter of time.

I turned to him and I find nothing better to say that: "In your country, he taught people how to brush their teeth?" Completely

héberlué of my remarks, our fellow back seat. A group of young people from Ontario began to giggle. They share my opinion and force themselves to speak French here. Wonderful. A widespread debate erupts mcdo St-Denis. All because me.

Damn it's beautiful Montreal!

Well, at bed time. Tomorrow Angrignon station!

Sunday, August 9, 2009

How Long Does Metformin Take To Work

Hochelaga / Waltz pizza

So, what to do on a Saturday night? Why not take the opportunity to overcome some of these fears? Facing these phobias? That's what I'm finally on my way in the Hochelaga / Maisonneuve there just a few days.

Let's start with some contextualization.

After a crazy day Saturday hanging from my computer and my letters of introduction, I was looking for what to do. I was navigating between the opportunities to go walking on René-Lévesque, or find me on the crowded terrace Latin Quarter. These two options clearly involved in solitary activities. I could not resign myself.

Meeting fourtuite help, very nice smile indeed, I found myself in Francopholies. Many, many people. Music almost sympathetic. Smells of hot dogs cotoyant laughter fatty cranks rather tipsy.
Day What!

Me tiresome quickly Cetta musical atmosphere very heavy, I proposed to my partner's evening walk, talk. Obviously, as the only intelligent people are able to do so. Irony? Maybe!

And I discovered the Hochelaga / Maisonneuve. Prefontaine station, around Ontario.
Suddenly, that is there in this neighborhood long considered infamous and obscure, that I discovered some truth: People exaggerate too much, me included. Yes, this neighborhood is not very rich. Of course, sometimes there are children crying. Poverty draws lots of its problems, crime. But to be afraid to attend such a place, there is a short step.

Side Architecture, the place is quite nice. A corner that reminds me vaguely Limoilou district. The apartments are all the same, three-story red brick ringed with ancient iron stairs. Patios in rotten wood, certainly, but also beautiful tall trees. And real people. Many students also. A drastic opposition to the West Island and the Isle Bizard. Opposition to artificial values of the richest. Their taps and Italian duck at one hundred dollars.

short, I liked it.

I realized some things that night. Among others, that the greatest love stories often are built around two specific values. The honesty and trust. Trust is built step-by-little on the basics of honesty. Simply.
be honest with someone is not so simple. It must, first, assume that you are. His whole being. So, logically, recognize its twist. Talk with other contentious issues. I mean discuss. Not to impose. Nor complain incessantly, too.
Finally, it is extremely important to make decisions for both. All decisions.

So a failure on the line. A failure that had been planned long ago. So handling.

A bad person? Unfortunately.

On a more positive note, I confirm that I have had the opportunity twice to enjoy the incredible culinary delight of the pizzeria on St. Denis Latin Quarter. I do not remember the exact name of the place. I think it simply: "pizza".
Check it out! Wood oven, Italian flair and breathtaking terrace. Located next to the cinema.

Thought of the Day: "A donkey never falls into the same hole ..."

you soon!

Friday, August 7, 2009

Trane Weathertron Thermostat 239a

Day 3 after the flood.

You know, since my love life and social collapsed like a deck of cards, I took much time to think. First observation: there are many things to do. Obviously, the job search appears at the top of the list. And for a long time now, I devoted myself with all my energy. The results are output are not there yet, but at least efforts are. I even started to please me to do resumes and cover letters .... * Sigh *

Lemon of the day: bad advice from the subway station Longeuil-Université de Sherbrooke.

I also finally received my carte Accès Montréal ". And the Rogers Cup which starts this weekend. So the discounts. I can not wait to see whether Federer will be able to beat Nadal ...

Friday, January 23, 2009

How Much Does A Small Estate Affidavit Cost

.:: Prison Break ::.. SAISON 4

Synopsis :

Vo Sous-Titres VF

Episode 01 : Scylla
Episode 02 : Breaking and Entering
Episode 03 : Shut Down
Episode 04 : Eagles and Angels
Episode 05 : Safe and Sound
Episode 06 : Blow Out : [Partie1] - [Partie2] - [Partie3] - [Partie4]
Episode 07 : Five the Hard Way
Episode 08 : The Price
Episode 09 : Greatness Achieved
Episode 10 : The legend
Episode 11 : Quiet riot
Episode 12 : Selfless
Episode 13 : Deal or no deal
Episode 14 : Just Business
Episode 15 : Going Under
Episode 16 : The Sunshine State
Episode 17 : The Truth (Diffusion : 17-Avril-2009)
Episode 18 : The Goal
Episode 19 : The Angel Of Darkness
Episode 20 : One Way Or Another
Episode 21 : The End Is Coming
Episode 22 : The Final Situation
Episode 23 : ...
Episode 24 : ...

VostFr

Mu-RS

GigaUp (CDM: shaka)
Episode 01 Episode 02

Episode 03 Episode 04

Mu
Episode 01
Episode 02
Episode 03 Episode 04

Episode 05 Episode 06

RS
Episode 01 Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4
Episode 02 Part1 Part2 Part3
Part4 Episode 03 Part1 Part2 Part3
Part4 Episode 04 Part1 part2

What Is The Cheapest And Strongest Type Of Wood

..:: Heroes ::.. saison 3

Synopsis:

worldwide, a number of seemingly ordinary people turn out to capacity with "unusual" cell regeneration, teleportation, telepathy ... They do not know what happens to them, nor the impact that this could have. They are still unaware they are part of an evolution that will change the world forever!

Information Series:

Director: Tim Kring
Cast: Milo Ventimiglia Greg Grunberg
Series Nationality: American
Genre:
Drama Runtime: 42 min
Release Date: June 30, 2007
Language: French
Subtitle: No
Network: NBC