Thursday, December 25, 2008

Extreme Boobs Milena Velba

The Way is a wonderful thing ...


E 'was a difficult day today.

Cicitto I had to leave home just after lunch to go to work.

The department was not full, but as always, remain in hospital only people with more difficulty. We also had two hospitalizations, very complex, but I was in good company, two very good colleagues and a wonderful auxiliary and a good doctor.

The afternoon is spent.

Back home, it was empty and it looked cool, even though the heaters going full steam: Cicitto was not there and I felt terribly alone.
For more on television, turning to channels, I found the film "Life is a wonderful thing" ... and tears down. As usual I did the "pregnant woman".

And yes! That's right!
LIFE 'a wonderful thing!
So to have close to a wonderful man who loves me and that I love ... and everything is WONDERFUL!

Merry Christmas to all and may God bless you everyone! A big hug to

tuttied especially to you, my love!
Merry Christmas!

How To Tell Baby's Hair Color

STRANGE CREATURES CHRISTMAS. BUT CAN A COW 'A SLEIGH RIDE?


wind. Our envy of the penis has the wind at your back ... and big meaty breasts. Here, yes, more or less like idiots (extreme understatement) shown above, not taken at random as an example of what I call a missed opportunity ... and God only knows how many there are lost.
In this day of Christmas, the web has been invaded by images like these. In every corner del pianeta virtuale è stato infatti tutto un fiorire di varianti “sexy” (altro garbato eufemismo) del coglionazzo più rosso-dipinto della storia del consumismo occidentale: Babbo Natale.
Lungi dal voler mettere in discussione i sogni di milioni di pargoletti infinocchiati fino all’età matura, vorrei invece soffermare la vostra labile attenzione – resa difficoltosa da quel pezzo di cotechino non del tutto digerito – sul perché… sul perché di codeste ambizioni.
Noi donne – si sa - siamo soggetti peculiari e non soltanto in quanto portatrici di un miserabile potenziale creativo, ma ancor di più per quell’ineluttabile bisogno di dover sempre giocare la carta sexy con piglio bunny-cow-pretty-nice-and-froufrou-trallellero-and-trallallà. Underlying this ambition there are obviously a pair of beliefs:
- the first is that we think we can be always able to turn every toilet in a toilet ammorbante scented with only the use of our warm charm, the right amount of lingerie red pork, veal and tits pulley-like look porn star retired;
- the second - even worse than the first - is that everything the prerogative of men can be easily reviewed, copied and pasted on our brains and our need to lean equal-opportunity at all costs. Moreover - and this I think really - we are able to do what men do ... and even better. With a "simaptica" dash of chilli.
So, what's the problem? There is no problem, no kick awkwardly with our panties filled with some wilted cucumber is the solution ... the solution to our need to grab something that will never have. Even with a prodigious foul-plastic.

The point is, you see, that the result is always questionable. In short, there is somewhere in the world someone really interested in these variants uterine? Yes, ok, pea flaccid your partner needs a help ... but Viagra is not enough? But
question of questions is: are we really sure they achieved the right effect?
continue to complain as pregnant bitches who mistreat us, that we underestimate that we use, we see only in the "horizontal", but what I wonder is: what do we do to oppose this? Good question, is not it?

From what we see around, we not only put in the queue for auditions, but we pride ourselves for our aesthetic goals: the only thing that we would never be able to sacrifice. In other words, we ride the wave ... and what we like!

No, dear friends, I'm not here to make morality - who the fuck it fuck if your favorite position reaches 20 cm above the ground - what I want for Christmas is a little 'sincerity. Nothing spectacular, mind you, just a little 'self-critical to understand that if the world is how it goes, not just the fault of men (the third and last euphemism), but also ours. It is also our fault because we are not able to remain dressed in front of a man? (No one forces us ... if not the desire to put in that place at the heart of our enemy)
Even more I understand why - even when we should be fully dressed in red, dress with soft white fur, covered by a thick white hair - we present in this latter fashion?

Qualcuna, ovviamente, potrebbe obiettare che se fossimo così nessuno ci distinguerebbe da un uomo. Ottimo, e non è questo quello che volevamo? Non volevamo essere come gli uomini?
E d’altronde solo qualche sgallettata pensionata potrebbe esigere da Babbo Natale un pacco dono turgido e durevole.

Insomma, io continuo a non capire: questa processo di “sexyzzazione” del tutto-cosmico non lo capisco davvero. Perché questo bisogno di essere vacche-forever? Non sarà per caso che assecondiamo semplicemente la nostra indole? Non sarà per caso che sentiamo tutto questo coerente con il nostro modo di essere?
C’è qualcosa che mi sfugge, lo confesso.

Buon Natale. Anzi no… non vorrei proprio avervi sulla coscienza. Il mio psicanalista dice che sono prossima alla guarigione e che non devo esagerare con i sensi di colpa... potrebbe piacermi troppo.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Is It Ok To Work With Chest Infection

A CHRISTMAS, A CHRISTMAS GIVE A stereotype



“A Natale bisogna essere più buoni”. Io questa frase me la sarò sentita ripetere si è no una volta l’anno negli ultimi trentacinque (quando andava bene) , ma quest’anno, differentemente dall’opaca acquiescenza degli anni precedenti, ho deciso di voltare pagina, decidendo repentinamente di ribellarmi a questa gran cazzata dell’albero, del presepio, dei cenoni interminabili… ma soprattutto delle Christmas balls. Some

every year buys a half-dozen to swell the unprotected plastic straw, but there is someone else - me, for example - waiting for Christmas to empty the closets and soul of those balls that year after year copiously filled his consciousness.

I this year I donated a wagon sincerity ... and a shovel, the first to uncover some truth false historical-cultural, the other to bury the highest number of coglionazze license - with SUV - nicely named "moms of today."

That reads "Mom's any one ... ed io ogni volta mi ripeto ossessivamente “Per fortuna! Per fortuna!!!”. Questo è infatti uno di quegli strani momenti della vita in cui ringrazio Iddio per averci dato di default questa enorme BOTTA DI CULO. Perché, diciamocelo francamente, nulla è più nocivo al mondo delle mamme… dopo l’amianto.
Vi starete chiedendo – ma forse già lo immaginate – perché questo travaso di bile uterina ad una settimana esatta dalla evento più improbabile che sia mai stato elaborato da una mente malata autorizzata per intercessione divina. Beh, datemi il tempo di spiegare, ma prima consentitemi una piccola digressione.
Al termine dei miei lunghi e penosi studi sociologici, credo di aver finally identified the two main macro-categories of women: single and married. The big difference between them is not - as could easily be inferred - a circle of stupid metal finger on a date that most would then forget, what an idea ... or as they call the business a vision.
In the first - the single - there's an idea of \u200b\u200b"discontinuity" in fact there is a desire to "break" (and how they break the single is known to all) of evolution, emancipation ... of the future. And that future is usually something futuristic space where there is for the cultural, socio-cultural asymmetries for the limitation of the potential that each of us feels like the X factor in their lives.
In the latter, there is instead an idea of \u200b\u200bcontinuity, of tradition, firmly anchored to the regulatory principles of social and biological. In other words, there is in them a desire to maintain a strong identity ... and in general the idea of \u200b\u200bpreservation. Their.
The crux of the whole question is that, since the fair, while the first model is appealing to all, the second is at the end the winner. And an outstanding reason for this: while the first club to sign up for Equal Opportunities, cazzeggiano in ammorbanti disquisizioni filosofiche su chi sia il più forte e la prima della classe, se la tirano… e professano obbligate astinenze (chi vuoi che se la fili una cessa logorroica?); le seconde si limitano a sfornare figli e figlie a loro immagine e somiglianza, contribuendo a mantenere inalterato lo status socio-culturale con il semplice uso del passa-parola. E poi dicono che le casalinghe non fanno un cazzo dalla mattina alla sera…

Per tornare a bomba (me le dia tutte, oggi prevedo un genocidio di genere), questa mattina deambulavo pigramente per gli affollati corridoi di un supermercato qualunque per fare un po’ di spesa, quando ad un tratto mi tornò alla mente di dover necessariamente comprare un pensierino per la figlia di una cara amica. Per adesso.
La ragazzina è tanto caruccia: un vero condensato di dolcezza e sorrisi spensierati, una bambina a cui non si può dire di no. E così, con il sorriso stampato sulla faccia e tutte le sane intenzioni del caso, mi avventurai nei corridoi riservati ai giocattoli. Vi giuro, non l’avessi mai fatto. Nell’arco di una manciata di secondi il mio sorriso cominciò a perdere il suo smalto per trasformarsi nel più orrendo degli incubi ad occhi aperti: corridoi improvvisamente scoloriti in un monocromatico rosa shopping che indulgevano, quando andava bene, ad un più intenso lillà. Ma questo era niente: fatine griffate, atletiche e siliconate pretty-girl, principesse, mermaids sprouted from every pink packaging bearing the CE mark to say that ... are not toxic. Of course if you do not eat anything happen, but if you play you'll see that something happens to you ...

And then there were on display all types of need to create the most futuristic plastic jewelry (we are accustomed to the costume ) to make delicious dishes with a portable kitchen, to make up the nails mo 'bitch of Thailand, for bleached hair (all the dolls are blonde. Mah!), to tattoo the body of glittery fairies, to the mother of the child the child, the nurse, hairdresser, stylist, men's grooming elderly, caregivers, and the teacher. In short: a condensed-tools are still able to sink even the most promising of feminists and to obscure the clearest idea of \u200b\u200bcultural evolution.
And the brainwashing continues with the clothing - all pink, it goes without saying - to continue with pink accessories of the PC, camera ... all topped off with tulle, organza, the scent of freesias, red strawberry.
not an object looked even vaguely suggest a smart choice, an alternative estimate. No, the most dramatic of the whole picture was obviously the mothers, suddenly became the passionate director of taste and more ... detrattrici fierce critic of the spirit. At least up to 14 years.
From this age, the mothers - the same as above but with a fake hair color more than before - in fact, begin to wonder why their daughter has become so bitch ... and especially so early. Envy, you know, is the hallmark of us women ... and of course the math has never been our favorite subject, perhaps because a prior sum of all the bullshit, preconceived ideas, stereotypes would have helped to realize that perhaps are not the men not to allow the evolution of a cultural model. The women of today are the children of yesterday ... and from time to time, education has been in the hands of men? Yes dear friends, let us stop to shift the blame for our losses of men, we like to wear a skirt, or more convenience, but we are not even ready to admit that the brain-ce grave dig the well by themselves.
We like the benefits of being a woman, but scream "discrimination" if others see us as we are.
This is our defeat, and things will not change until we persist in developing transactions with cultural meaning: Let us begin a boycott of the manufacturers of toys, magazines that depict us as we do not want to be, to do different jobs, to up and perfumes di meno, a fare meno le puttane.

Cominciamo ad essere davvero coraggiose. Facciamolo davvero perché, fintanto che percorreremo questa strada, il totale della somma sarà sempre e soltanto una bambola di gomma. E neanche di buona qualità.

Buon Natale

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Jamaica Athletics Singlet

Alero A huge ...


say that a huge tree gives rise to misunderstandings ...?

I was trying to find a new Christmas tree, because the ones I had in my garage, because there were two: old plucked and second-hand.

I tried searching in all the malls closer to home: they were either too large or too expensive. Carry Bradshaw would say, "I asked myself: will there ever be a Christmas tree for me?"
Cicitto and I were shopping for Iper ... and here is a box to nod a lot of other ciarpamerie Christmas: it seemed just the right height and also the price ... I'll take or not take it ... I'll take it!
can not offer me a good buy and then take me somewhere else! I buy it!

got home I opened the box and beat ... well is huge!
and sixty feet high, full and rich and deals with a mess of space in both width and height.
I do not care ... It 's my new Christmas tree and it's beautiful: shorten the tip! With

Cicitto, go to the garage to take the boxes of Christmas decorations, where are all the accumulated years of decorations and ... we begin to decorate our Christmas tree. The first Christmas tree to Cicitto.
The end result was stunning: balls, ribbons, blue lights and silver. Beautiful!

I still have to put all the other decorations around the house and the lights on the railing, the angel wings on the lights.

Yet I can not even feel like Christmas every year.

shifts at the hospital are really crappy: 23:24 morning, afternoon, 25 and 26 and no chance to exchange with colleagues to stupid rules that do not allow to work consecutive afternoon and morning. Shit!
And to think that I have all the gifts already in the house for months: the first one I bought at the end of July.

Maybe it's all because of steroids! To relieve pain
riacutizzatosi art psoriatic arthritis, the doctor changed my treatment, but after an initial improvement has taken over a period of stalemate with a persistent discomfort in the jaw joint, knees, ankles and small joints fingers in a zero sum.
But it's good that I have someone who loves me and whom I love and that gives me the strength to get up in the morning, although I'd love to stay in bed and rest, that gives me the strength to go to work and I from the joy of returning home where I often find myself waiting for me and make love.
It 's a simple life ours, but gives us much joy, gives us life .. a beautiful life we \u200b\u200blive together for five years and a half.

Another Christmas!
another wonderful Christmas together and to hell with everything else.
I'll tell you the rest when the cortisone will give me a new mystical crisis.
An arm, Sal.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Glamour Wallpapers Hd

... In your consciousness. YOU NEVER KNOW ... COULD SERVE

EDIZIONI PENDRAGON

Le mie editor(s) si sono divertite a cercare di stemperare il linguaggio acidulento del mio libro d'esordio. Io gliel'ho impedito.

Ad esser sincera stavano quasi rischiando un esaurimento uterino. poi, alla fine, si sono divertite anche loro.

and now its your turn!

tomino This is already in the library ...
you and you just have to ask for it.
Some reviews:
NEW YORK MAGAZINE: "... exhilarating, poignant as any book ever was capable of being. Amanda Nash paints a timely and ironic detail women today. It will definitely be sued. "
LE MONDE: " Incredible enthusiasm in the misogynist these Pages that spit fire on the new trends of being a woman today. Fun ... for those who can read between the lines. "
THE TIMES: " real women to the rescue. Finally someone realized that the model has run Spice girl no longer works. A sociological twist and a dash of chilli "
BOOK YOUR COPY NOW!