Female To Female Panyhose Wrestling

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Imagine the scene: On the frozen Russian steppes people are piled in the middle of the village. All look very sad, and in the middle of the crowd, a beautiful blonde girl, skin as white as snow itself is crying uncontrollably. Bijan, the only bird in the whole region, has died. No one saw it, but feathers scattered on the snow as they shout from the rooftops. The girl notices the bloody footprints in the snow and gets sadder crying. Like a curse which has broken out, people spread of sorrow and no one dares to speak. Then, between the legs out Lyova frost, jack and at the scene, he goes to the girl: "Had I known you were going to mourn so much, I would eat the feathers also" - said. "It could have invented a story that your bird had gone to another land, hot, fertile, to nest there, but now it's late and your tears I say the next to die will be me." The girl stopped crying only to look at him with hatred, while the black cat stretches out on the snow.

while ago I read this, words, words less and stayed with me in mind. The scene was repeated many times in my dreams and wake up, think I have put these ice boots. I think. Everyone has something that makes us happy. We love to feel loved, admired, respected, needed, essential and even beautiful. We love the idea of \u200b\u200btears in the eyes of those whom we miss and blood in the chest of those who have hurt us.

The trouble with happiness is not to be done, but we left undeniable traces. Sometimes, waking up and chirping lacking the heart, it seems we hear that melody, but it is only a hallucination that vanishes as soon as we found lying next to anyone. The songs sound and then leave when we know by turning our hearts to a huge gap that has left us lost happiness. We write, we are dedicated to create and deliver us to anyone. We want our bird back. That gives us joy that we all need. We feel love, but can not close our eyes so completely.

On the floor, if we dare to look, the feathers, blood ... snow. Our love, sadly, died. The bad thing that has happened is not whether the cold horrendous and loneliness, but there in that corner of the heart, still hear the cries. And as I've said: "It hurts the heart, and to feel that you die, but ... you know what?: Do not Die .

So above is Monday and out there, still waiting for life itself, turned into a titan, waiting for the brave you can grab the eggs and submit. Good start to the week. Titan luck and long life to the little bird that makes them happy.

Littestpetshopvipcomputer Gamestoplay

Moncada!

There are, I theme the green FB Pirati Rep. Villaseñor Yolanda Landa, to see what you are saying, beyond the cocolazos not equate with the licks of patrols, and sabem, is therefore imperative. Come!







not got on the other hand, prefer the paycheck that read the blog. I think the debate becomes more flavorful as well. Good day!

Denon Wrieless Receiver Headset

Rocket Brothers.

I met Luis when I went to finish high school at the Art 9, then known as ETA. I remember the first time she arrived as papaya, irreverent, dirty and run riot, the eternal loser of those epic duels puns that always ended up saying some bullshit or getting own goal.

Luis - shut up, pinchi pumpkin!

Alburero 1 (cough cough ...) - I get it out there on the plaza!

Luis - Okay, but then you sell it. (!)

And so on, Luis used a strange hybrid between the classic puns and phrases Antonio Badu film, which always made me funny and unusual. I think that's why I liked him, although on occasion we met we ended up in huge brawl which cost us clean the toilets in the secular, thick frankly nauseating odor. Luis was launched by tremendous hose used to fill the tanks and lit the bomb, I, eyelet, the key in each of the toilets and it became a pool of shit and leaves patinón book with cinnamon. Click wild laughter, as he entered a companion, aventábamos tremendous jet of water, as more could not be punished.

I think my reputation of being expelled several times helped that bastard could be himself and let me in her modesty, fucking crazy, came running with his fat book, product theft in the industrialization of food shop, in a riveting slice of ham between leaf and leaf, finishing with half a kilo smuggled. I to correspond to the kind gesture of sharing the loot, filled out my soccer socks with candied peanuts and we climbed a water tower and the way to eat them, spitting from beyond the freshmen, who only managed to paint creams with their fingers, while we, tanned Leper stronger laughed their disgust.

Luis had a sister in the first year, Maricruz, lolita asshole seemed but half of which I will tell of course, cough cough ... the thing is that she was like Pinocchio's Jiminy Cricket was the bastard. But as soon as the girl disappeared, we returned to chaos. I remember that I suddenly came the heartbreak when I realized we had no future in that direction. Unless someone paid us to talk a bunch of bullshit, and fight with the other schools or to send greetings to the students of the boarding out loud, did not see how it could pay me the food in the future. If he had a scholarship, even had good grades, but the few times that coincided with Luis in the direction it was because I was going to a meeting with my advisor and he, to report to the prefect. She looked at me sucker and I smiled to show his hand, in the form of a verguita and beckoned me leperos the son of a bitch.

Nearing the close, we got an afternoon at the disco. Ah, because that Apopka had "albums", not "clubs" and you come home drunk shitless was a monumental occasion Madriz, no pendejas therapy and stuff. Luis and I drank, but the difference was that then could let out all their troubles and I realized that I would not do it. Luis wanted be a soldier, carrying a heavy rifle and "assholes charging all with the tip of my dick" he said, his voice thick drunken teenager. I do not remember that I said, I do not remember even as he finished that afternoon in June.

I did not go to the closure to mourn, nor to listen to dog-faced embarrassment "swallows", let alone shake hands with all those bare trained in the presidium. I just wanted the paper to say that I knew I read, write and even a little English. I wanted to finish that stage already suffered and as a mechanic in the workshop of "poor", earn lots of money by removing carburetors, engine tuning and making assholes to customers. Luis, strangely, was embraced by his mother and cried both. I think it's because his mother, as I knew that was the last paper he received "the Melox" in his life. Came to see me sad and I said "oh my God, and want to come to fucking hug your father, asshole" ... we laughed and shook hands. I never would have known that this was my last chance to embrace Luis. I let her go. And in that time, neither seemed to me and I felt so special.

Luis, the worm, the Melox, became matron of the court with only 17 years. And it only lasted 12 days with that old pistol belt. Night began to fall when he was killed in Chilapa kiosk right opposite the central square. Then we were not so used to seeing dead scattered far. I cried pretending it was because Dr. Hell was finally overwhelmed Mazinger Z, but the truth is that it could not see Luis down the well, he could not say goodbye. No.

His family was. I was me. For years the ETA has changed its name to estimates, who painted the water tower and that our names were erased from the seats, bathrooms and the trunk of real lemons in the courtyard. Years ago, man. And it was yesterday that I saw a Koggi succumb to these two mechanical monsters ... and I remember losing to Melox style. I guess after all, our laughter from above can not be erased.