Brests Of Indian Actress

On Thursday, a story. Is there life after Blogger? Conjunction

woke with rare vibrations. The air transmitting invisible particles of concern, they felt like tiny crystals of snow hitting the head.

Pavarotti my finch to fly home every morning brightened my bathroom with several tunes, was deaf and dumb at the same time.

Desdramaticé the situation by blaming it on a domestic phenomenon easily explained, and began the ritual nice breakfast.

The real revolution came from the hand of the nearest objects ... cupcakes had hardened inexplicably open milk the previous day on its surface a spot suspicious odor, and sugar (because it put "sugar") was salt.

Something in the environment that was unruly, wayward, weird balls.

tried not to lose your temper. I put the TV in the hope that was from me or at least give some logical explanation of what was happening. Emissions were canceled, the unit was on but inanimate. Under the circumstances should not go out. Wait a turn, a sign that everything was back to normal, and remember it as a bad dream.

The minutes seemed like hours, the world was stopped, even a slight perceived absence of gravity. Anxiety to recover the mechanical, regular, daily, press or radio show, it all became a vital necessity.

resorted to the Internet as an emergency solution, hoping that my latest purchase comes with 2 5 GHz Intel processors and 48 GB. RAM, give me full satisfaction and repaired more than the chaotic and eventful morning.

The glare screen lit up and I saw reflected in it. Next to me stood a text that could not read clearly, like a blurred message. A finger ripped the air with random movements directed from the bottom of the PC:

- "It's your goodbye, undressed of your costume, because the show is over. Mourn the loss and start over again from the helplessness and anonymity. Weep like children, as only the absence of capital sins you redeem both rhetoric and inconsistent story "

night The morning was quiet and the pixelated text was taking focus, to appear neat as a sentence in the bottom of the screen. From him, I only had time to take this blurry photo:

disintegrated after me and me all my rhetoric and inconsistent stories.

More lost consciousness Vezdermarbánpolis

Denise Milani Post Parto

interstellar

Three great to dream.

1 .- MORENTE , humble the great, posing next to the canvas that leapasionaba.

2 .- GUERNICA , emblematic, captivating, great content emotions.

3 .- and cadauno ALL of us, that casual viewers have vibradodelante of that painting, making this ina time of the greats of our lives.

Photo: Country Weekly

Milena-velba Nightmare

On Thursday, a story. Portugal, what does it mean to you?

... "Aircraft of the Armed Forces barracks portuguesasbombardean of the Incarnation, near the airport Portela, in what appears to be an attempted coup. "

opened with the headline news in lamayoría reach of English radio stations .

12'00 It was noon on a cold Tuesday in March from 1975. E n the vicinity of the Sports Pavilion RealMadrid for several hours, we live a bitter blow transistor acontecimientosque could destroy the young democracy lusa.

... The music, always music.

yet two years ago that the broadcasting of two cancioneshabían set the standard to get the carnations on the street. On April 24 Esla Paulo de Carvalho song "E depois do Adeus" deldía broadcast at the end, the first signal for a revolution that guarded weapons with long red bullets detail. That same morning, on Radio Renasceça, playing "Grândola, Vila Morena", revolutionary song of José Afonso, banned by the regime.

is lasegunda signal. The Carnation Revolution is underway.

Tail, seextendía by Goya street and the faces of concern mingled with elentusiasmo we had met thousands of young people, of what was to be Elprime Genesis concert in Spain. Yes, Genesis, Peter Gabriel, elauténtico. Presenting his new " TheLamb Lies Down On Broadway."

The concert was outstanding, Lasombra despite that surrounded the stage for a possible red carnations to esashoras may be withered by disappointment and dejection.

did not, carnations withstood the onslaught, and we always remained attached to the memory of this unique concert unatarde mud splattered threatened to cloud the future of Portugal.


H Oy Portugal, for me, (apart deconsideraciones more serious and far-reaching ) are two names that I served with the same force ydevoción, as did that evening Genesis future cold disturbing

Alvaro Siza, the architect of Matosinhos quepone music in the streets in the form of houses and buildings. And Dulce Pontes, quepone listening to music and I spent one of my first posts: "Sweetest Dulce ..."

More views on Portugal at 100 km from the border.

Reset Mileage Scooter

A bit of Portugal, to whet your mouth.

video was uploaded by: Donegal