Ex Royal Navy Ships Still I

Vivons stressed until death

Magritte, The Key of Dreams , 1930

I had already done to my therapist: I hate it. At the turn of a conversation, I get the latest rain thanks to people who discover me as a privileged audience for their knowledgeable prose. No, not scholars, on the contrary: the knowledgeable are those who undertake to teach you only what you know. They annoy me. Consider an example in the dialogue that stupid here with my boyfriend a few years ago:

(him) - "(...) It was a house with a large roof - you know the trick covering the houses above the walls - really well located and ...
(me) - What a house?
(him) - Huh?
(me, finger pointed at him) - Do not be innocent! You just tell me what a roof! "

I made the head until he is a valid reason for that could make him think that 30 years I knew nothing of the word "roof".

is not even why since I left.

These days, my condition worsens sachantophobe. The objects are there. Yes I know, I had already yelled by explaining how a package, schema support, how to split a bread pudding in half one day left me puzzled. I confess: the sight of a drawing of a bread pudding with two arrows showing the direction it is contradictory forces operating on said pastry to split it into two parts Spreadable frightens me .

is not even why since I eat cereal.

Mind you, when I read on their packaging "Chez Machin, we believe that we owe to nature as much as we take him", my mind wanders to strange scenario where, after drinking my cup of whole grain "with real strawberries "not even plastic (yes, it says roughly), I go shoot myself in the middle of a cornfield in order to donate my body to the swarming nature and to express gratitude and fair.

is not even why I took the subway yesterday.

Horror: After was greeted with the sound of the priceless slogan "Attentive all: beware, your neighbor may be trying to sting your mobile phone. Be carefull please, your neighbourg May be your enemy." Achtung, etc.. "I was assaulted by a sticker placed on the window of my car. The
serinage hearing on the dangerous places, it still has a side game show: during the broadcasts, we observed every two seconds before lowering her eyes, limit disappointed not to have found where Charlie lurks the pickpocket. But the board is printed in pink and white sticker on a bubble-shaped cartoon to mean that yes, we are currently cause us, have mercy! Here is the philosophical reflection that I could read: "Prepare my output facilitates my descent.

At first I thought that Nicolas must certainly prepare its outputs to the comet. They say that drinking a tablespoon of olive oil is useful when there are having a good run. And then I contextualized. It could not contact Nicolas : he never takes the line 8.
So if I understand the injunction dumb, it is thought to stand a few seconds before the door opens, but especially before it closes, so that my output is successful. Fortunately, the RATP has provided a pink sticker because before, I do not understand why I could never get the right station by remaining seated until the next. Not

but tell me that this is not true.

What is history? RATP has had too many complaints from users stuck in their seat because they have planned their exit? Or is it to warn us that if we do it too late, we increase the risk that passengers holding a dark revenge by forming an impenetrable mass to hold us prisoner, then chanted, eyes bulging and arms forward, "thee to prepare your exit!"?

is perhaps why since I'm in a bad mood.

Denise Milani Sucking A Banana

ticket without fatigue

Velasquez the Immaculate Conception, 1618

A ticket in the form of poetry or romance without effort, anyone? Try generator words of love! You simply answer a few simple questions. The site will then concoct a custom text in minutes. Those who are struggling under the orders of pages could possibly offload so few lines? Those who manage a score of blogs have also the opportunity to produce a note without being too tired for once. The many love bloggers of my knowledge see their half blush of pleasure on receiving their passionate declaration, drafted cheap. If you're blogger policy would simply take care to inject the proper word to declare your love for your party or an action that you're loving éperdumment (32 hours, the re-nationalization of EDF .. .).

Now, here is the instant novel, set in three minutes, I dedicate S., my brave knight anticapitalist:


The Marriage Of Pixel
by Marie-Georges Deep


The smoking chimneys of a fog enveloped Paris artificial, and made coughing S.. The latter smiled, without knowing why, he met an old lady. He crossed the zoo, and strangely smiling lion who watched a sad eye. Faster than it would have thought, he found himself at the door.

He immediately rang. A few seconds passed. The temples of S. beat. As one opens, it rang again. But nothing happened. He knocked, rang the bell, knocked, rang again and again ... then he decided wait.
He waited an hour. Then two. After three hours, desperate, he arose, and having struck one last time, turned and walked away. But no sooner had he started a sound lock attracted his attention. He turned round and saw Marie-Georges on the doorstep.
- I ... excuse me, "she said. I'm sorry, I ... I ...
- You're so myopic, cut it S..
- Come in, "said Marie-Georges.
S. followed her to the lounge.
- Sit down, "said Marie-Georges.
He sank into a chair and heaved a sigh of relief. A silence ensued. Then Marie-George, who looked at him, threw softly
- So? Do not you kiss me?
S. smiles.
- I take pleasure, "he said.
Then he added:
- Approach ... Marie-Georges
complied, and S. placed a kiss on his lips silently. Then another. Still.
- I ...
But she did not have time to finish his sentence, or even the start, since S. gratified that both the long and tender kiss. When it was over, Marie-George smiled.
- It is you who kiss, best of all my lovers, "she said.
- Small Wanton, S. laughs.
Once again, S. uttered the three magic words.
- I love you.
But this time, it sounded otherwise. It was more beautiful. It was more strong.
- It's been two months ... two months since we met ... two months since the lightning struck me ... and you're the only person I ever loved.
- Oh ... it's true?
- Yes, yes.
- My Heart ... what you say is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. You are also anti-capitalist inside and outside.
S. blushed. It felt good. In the distance, an elephant was screaming. Nearby, his heart beat. There spent the day ... here, everything was stopped.
- Poppet ... Marie-Georges ...
But he could not continue. Once again, their lips met again. They almost delirious as fever won the ... they were on top of a tree, trying to climb outdoors. Near them, Eugène Pottier sang''The International''by looking at them. As if struck by a thunderbolt, S. fascinated barely had time to see in a flash, as in a painting by Nicolas Poussin, Georges-Marie reincarnated into a mermaid ... Foam curly, tousled waves, sky bathed in clouds that are the moon winking, lip commissures pearly shells, coral enameled smile white, milky voice and topless starfish .. all disappeared when S. opened his eyes.
- Marie-George ...
- Yes ...?
- Marie-George ... will you marry me? ...
- Yes ... she said softly.
All night they stood embracing, talking, or kissing.
- I've already talked about Anthony? Asked S..
- No.
- He once told me that I could never seduce anyone, even a lunatic.
- Do not buy this kind of nonsense ... how could he tell it to you, who are so ... smart!
- You do not know. His stupidity is beyond belief.
- I believe you!

Then they promised to love forever and eternity began for them.