Pattern For Fleece Shawl With Pocket

not having them follow me, do not read. You only want

I wonder every time I log onto my blog, but really I have 52 contacts? 52 people in the flesh following me? Who read my shit?

That is, to overcome the psychological threshold of 50 contacts is a little 'how to overcome the psychological threshold of 50 years.

I miss a little 'to get to half a century, and who knows even if c'arrivo...

Accantonata la sorpresa, ne giunge un'altra che, credo, questa volta sorprenderà voi.

Quanti di voi mi vedono commentare i vostri blog?

Quanti di voi mi vedono prodighi nello scrivervi "Uau, che bel post" "Sei proprio simpatico/a!".

Credo, sinceramente, nessuno. Eppure, tra voi boffatori, ho un paio di parenti e amici di lunga data.

E nessuno si lamenta?

Nessuno che mi scrive: "Oh Pierpà, ma io ad ogni post che scrivi lascio un commento e tu non mi cachi manco di striscio?!"

Diamine, avreste ragione da vendere! E non la ragione dei fessi, la ragione ragione, quella con a capital R!

I, as far as possible, I try to give my explanation that starts from a premise: I am an asshole.

Only an asshole, in fact, wants to have the last word. Here in my blog, and my speech is better than that, I think, there's only me that Claudia Schiffer is courting. In another blog in another post, I do not think I would have this enormous power.

I totally egocentric also the reading of other blogs. Few, very few really, and sometimes I just read a post that I do not like to label this blog no longer worthy of my attention. I also snobbish with the smell under her nose.

E 'is true che ho poco tempo e molta poca pazienza. Spesso mi annoia e mi stanca leggere su internet, fosse anche una cosa interessantissima, condivisibilissima, di quelle che ti fa riflettere, ridere, immaginare, incazzare o boffare.

Sono "anziano" per questo genere di cose. Purtroppo, anche a causa mia, gli alberi in Amazzonia continueranno ad essere abbattuti perchè devo avere della sporca carta tra le mani da leggere.

Lo faccio anche al lavoro.
Circolari on-line, video aggiornamenti, banche dati consultabili. Per me sono immondizia! Io individuo quello che mi serve, lo stampo e poi ci cogito sopra.

I miei appunti, i miei fogli di lavoro o di semplice lettura non a caso, sono peggio dei quadri dei cubisti or abstract or qualcostattisti! Full of underlines and asterisks.

But this, I think little or nothing to explain my disinterest. It 's the usual round of my words to say nothing or say something that I could say three words, even 5, because the three are reminiscent of the sun, heart and love.

What then, if you really were, not disinterest. Nor is discretion, but that's just simple, as mentioned in the introduction, stronzaggine.

Thanks Claudia, but tonight I have to see me a replica of a doctor in the family.

will be for another time.

La Boxing- Membership Fees

Fa Fa nà photos

What can I say ... what to write, rather ...
I think I'm a bit 'as a kind of Zulu, and I think that the photographs a piece of ruby \u200b\u200bcore to who we are immortalized.
For this reason, and because of results in the horrible 97% of cases, I avoid since the death of me photographing.
's dislike with the picture is not unique. In fact, when I have a camera in hand, are bad. I can also make blurry still lifes.

For this, a little 'I admire and a bit' envy those who know and those who take pictures in the photo, there is good.
Since I also (unfortunately) written on facebook, are also flooded with pictures of people that, frankly, could put myself little.
And what then say that I do not give a chip only, then, every now and we'll give it a look at me too.
And here comes another consideration: there are people who takes pictures for me is absolutely absurd!
It 's true, each makes of his image and what he wants, but I just can not picture myself in every sacred moment of my life. I understand
trips, graduations, weddings, birthdays, anniversaries and various ...
But what use would the photograph me while I'm at a pizzeria? Ok, once there is. But let me take pictures at every sacred pizza with friends?!
make me take pictures and send kisses (????!!!???!!!??!?!?!?) vm or while I look 18 years What do I bring?
exacerbate, perhaps, my ego a bit 'flat? I'd be more sympathetic or less bigoted?
mechanism is the infamous "tag", where should I put it?
There are people who, from what I understand, live to be tagged. They live to let others know whatever they do. Where do they go, what they eat, what to wear.
fashion photo, funny photos, photos in color or black and white, where we laugh, we show its tongue or the lower back. Photo
that, in most cases, we could avoid them.
I, my soul, I hold it tight.

Is Dimethicone Bad For Babies

Whistles the wind I'm envious

Of all the atmospheric phenomena exist or not, what support is less wind.

not explain, but we just do not get along.

When there is wind are more pissed off than usual. Yet, since my nose, I should be happy with the wind, I think I have a CX, the air penetration coefficient, similar to that of a sports car.

I do not have the problem that my hair go into your eyes or mouth because of the wind.

But ... I find myself embarrassed in their movements. Perhaps due to the fact that everything moves and moves, trees whose leaves are shaking, foglie che cadono, panni che si staccano dallo stendino e finiscono, guarda caso, sempre nella pozza di zozzeria che sta in terra e mai, per fortuna, nel balcone del vicino che sta di sotto.

Mi sembra di essere un po' Neo di Matrix, quando si muove a rallentatore mentre gli sparano addosso. Sì, intento ad evitare tutto quello che può essere evitato. Lui, Neo, però evita davvero tutto, diventa il salvatore del mondo e trova pure l'amore. Io, ovviamente, no.

E quindi, poco prima di venire in ufficio, esco sul balcone per dare da mangiare alla mio psicotica micia.

In quel preciso istante, manco a dirlo, c'era vento.

E quindi, nell'ordine, ho:

- evitato un piatto di carta che mi volava, ad altezza menisco, a mò di lama rotante di Goldrake;

- evitato di schiacciare la micia che, per fortuna non volava, ma ha pensato bene di piazzarsi quasi sotto il mio piedino da fata;

- evitato che le ante del balcone sbattessero contro la cristalliera che (intellijentemente) mia madre ha piazzato vicino al sunnominato balcone.

Nel mentre, però, non ho:

- evitato che mi si svuotasse in terra metà della scatola dei croccantini della micia;

- evitato il conseguente cazziatone di mia madre.

Al che ho dovuto:

- prendere the broom (which, precisely, was already out on the balcony, and, mind you, wet, because it was raining too);

- cazziatone continue to hear my mother's complaining now that same sweeping with a broom ( wet) dry food dropped on the balcony (why, he said, would wet the broom! e. .. of course, as written over the broom was already wet, why, exactly, it was raining outside. "The broom, grace, was GIA 'wet, as well as half of the balcony ... and then cocks bels ??!);

- take a new paper plate and put into the dry food because the cat, with little collaborative spirit, continued to meow and got me tripping all the time.

Score:

- balcony swept from dry food (which if it remained, for charity, attracting ants. Intended that the ants, which show a lot more intelligence of mankind, when it's windy and if they are underground fuck my biscuits!)

- infamous cat who ate three biscuits in number and gone;

- fancubazione mutual between me and my mother

- early symptoms of sore throat.