Sugar And Breathlessness

THE SECRETARY OF THE SIXTH ... CENTURY AC

Oggi ho voglia di vomitare. Oggi va così: ho voglia di vomitare. Che poi, voglio dire, vomitare non rende bene l’idea dello smottamento di detriti intestinali che amerei riversare sul piatto delle sostenitrici della cultura al femminile.
Non parlo ovviamente di quelle che fanno contro-cultura… quelle che rompono le ovaie… quelle come me, quanto quelle che fanno delle “pari opportunità a tutti i costi” il proprio vessillo post-femminista.

Parlo soprattutto di quelle che non fanno altro che rompere i coglioni agli altri, assurgendo al ruolo di vittime tout-court del secolare maschilismo nel tentativo di raggiungere obiettivi di uguaglianze. Insomma, di quelle che si lamentano per l’iniqua sorte… e poi continuano a lamentarsi se l’uomo non fa il galantuomo. Dicesi galantuomo, l’uomo che ama mettere la donna a proprio agio, pagare il conto al ristorante, pagare le spesucce … che ama pagare le puttane. Dicesi puttana, la donna che incassa. Incassa e tace.

Sono sempre stata convinta che la cultura avesse, in sé, un’anima progressista che, col passare del tempo, tendesse a miglioramenti incrementali. Poi, invece, succede qualcosa di imprevisto che ci riporta indietro nel tempo e ci fa esclamare un educato: cazzo, no!!!

E d’altronde cos’altro si può dire davanti alla nuova sit-com denominata filosoficamente “Le secretaries of the sixth?!

television, you know, is a large distributor of shit, but we do what we did to deserve this take-cultural way? I mean, with all professions there are fucking around so dust off the secretaries?

I know, I know, apparently there is nothing wrong with talking about a pool of Oscar hysteria that make a fight to show off in front of the boss, but I think we deserve examples of the evolution of another type.

What irritates me is not the show per se, but the reaction from women, or its total absence. Not a voice is raised. Nothing!

Populism and the good things of a After invading, no escape, every sphere of life and feeling. We all feel this pampered by doing good, from this seasoned pietism "right useless." A no or, in fact, it never occurred to the right to refuse? We are so stuffed by the will, and will at all costs, that there glosses over the thought that we should learn to say "no". What we are afraid ... of missing a train that could take someone else?

I take it, indeed, with the producers of this junk culture, but especially with these actresses that lend themselves uncritically. I take it with those who will look at this shit, with those who say "cute" ... con chi non opporrà resistenza.

La televisione italiana è ancora ammorbata da stereotipi, è omologazione pura, è irrealtà spacciata per ambizione per le nuove generazioni.
Dopo i “medici in famiglia”, le tettone, le puttane da salotto, i fascinosi magnacci, le commesse dei negozi… oggi ci toccano anche le segretarie.

Resto basita.

Ditemi adesso che la Carfagna (questo è il suo compito) sta vigilando sulle pari-opportunità e sull’abbattimento degli elementi che rendono perpetua la segregazione occupazionale. Qualcuno me lo dica, vi prego!

E d’altronde cosa ci si può aspettare da una che fine a ieri bazzicava negli armadietti Teamsters. The rider continues to insult us and you, of course, is silent ... as the most skillful whores.

It takes so, but I'm really there.

I'm not. I'm not. I'm not. I'm not.

Good Sunday!

Ps: If you are wondering what has to do with Rita Levi Montalcini Codest creatures, not scervellatevi (dowry little used) I can tell you: nothing. Absolutely nothing!

Amanda.

Western Chikan Brazil

EQUAL A silly blockhead CALENDAR OF CULTURAL

my return to this page because, however hard I try, the political junk of recent months has started to make me being the urticaria. God only knows how much I tried not to look, not to hear ... but, alas, every attempt has failed miserably.
We know that in all the dwarf in the throes of a fatal syndrome of omnipotence - and a simultaneous helplessness syndrome - began to raise its voice: the only big thing that remained after the meatball greyish hopefully soon turned into a metastasis Cavalcante.

People always ask me if I read have never suffered such abuse in youth, many of them so sour towards women.
These characters (men or women who are) I can simply say that - given that the number the fool is on the rise, while the intelligence has remained constant - I claim the right to talk about something current greatly.

we all know that women are whores, that was known thousands of years ... the point is that for some time now started to mystify some content is actually infect the air of men with strange concepts like " legs could be more than "the uterus is mine and manage it" and so on.

Even more recently, have been sighted strange creature first seen only in some shabby cabinet or some horny mechanic in the cockpit some unrepentant truck driver.

The thesis of "X-Men" suggests that, from time to time, the evolution of the species makes the extraordinary leaps forward ... and so it was that gave birth to the Minister of Equal Opportunities. We do not know where sbuchino, how much effort they made to win the coveted chair. Yes, ok, scurry from morning to night and make big smiles, showing all sides available, including the esophageal tube, deserves at least one ministry. Ok ok, the child has graduated ... more or less the same shortcuts Gelmini. Italy is also this, but we we did to deserve such a fool? When

coming to talk about "This" creature, I always feel singled out as the usual left-wing whore ... and it perplexes me why, in fact, certain things may be valid, not taking a political position, as by simply analyzing the facts.

The quarrel between Mr. B and the masculine in a skirt left me indifferent, that if the giving of holy right ... well of course are paid handsomely for this, not! What I
harm and, instead, note the complete absence of a presence that should ensure, at least on paper, compared to the paristronze. In short, the Bindi is a process not a secret even for Luisa that starts early, ends early, and usually does not pull the toilet. Nor is it a secret that your Prime Minister put the heels of 20 cm and raised a forest of viagra false and face directly into a vein. I mean, his cock will be well ... when he can have it.

The point, to return to bomb, is that the doe-faced lady from cow's soul (the photo spread in the ether I have not taken mica I) do not be surprised at all that the role of master their subject: the nothing at all seasoned with a dash of steaming shit.

I do not understand. I still do not understand, but where is this evolution? Is he in the fact that women be restricted to 4-mat of the bed premier, while touch with other club in the cave to return home?

It does not take an ark of science: the woman loved by the premier (the ideal, I mean) is the female who is silent and has less than two trump. Lario? Never heard of her. His first wife? Boh! I do not know, but I imagine that they were paid handsomely for not saying a word. No wonder then that our Ca ... Spain has been overpaid to say shit. She, of course, is concerned only to make laws on stalking garbage. It is said that stalking offense for which the victim is always a woman ... and, incidentally, becomes a victim when you tired to give it to free. God it is helpful! How much care ... and Stakhanovism! In its mint has also created the "pink box" to be installed in cars for women, so, if necessary, can be readily traced and saved by the male beast. Never heard bigger bullshit. Then, of course, as there are attacks of gays (beloved by the right as the shit on croissants for breakfast), she simply sends an email that read: "I'm with you!" That political action, political commitment that! !

Not to mention the female youth gangs ...

You know, the important and not to see. Ok, this is also covered up.

There is no doubt: in Italy all goes to hell. And if we is also the prime minister, it means that the road is the right one.


Amen