Men Brazilian Wax Cincinnati

The first For the fiftieth

E 'the fiftieth post, I realized just now. The fact is that I thought to write something great, important, impressive, powerful, surprising and touching, instead misa that we should abandon the idea since it already is so far if I wrote three lines . You know, is the inspiration, inspiration is, how are you or not depends on how you feel, or at least is not so crucial. Why if you're bad, you got inspired to write about sad things, good things if you're happy, but I find myself to be bothered by a confident but on the other side, wanting a turn, frightened by change, excited about making decisions. .. In short, they run too many thoughts on my mind and the ability to order them on a blog or in real life is, at least for me, impossible. So should only tell of what I see right now as I write this post I mean. What is the fiftieth've already told you? Yes, I did. Seeking to broaden the perspective and then re-reading I realize that all the past ones I do not regret any of them, who all had a sense when I wrote it because it think that maybe should be changed or worse thrown in the toilet? Even now, as I post instead, you're writing, but not on paper, some other episode, which will then be archived with the others in the library of my existence. I speak for myself but to you the same thing happens ...

Cervix Five Days Before Period

It sounds all a bit 'obvious, in reality simply a duty, but I also want add to the chorus of those who today January 11, 2009 thank you and remember to ten years after his death Fabrizio de André . Perhaps I could write the longest post in history if only fully describe what has been, is and will represent me for this singer, this poet, this man.
I have difficulty expressing myself, more than other times, me because it is almost impossible to trust the emotions I feel and I've tried listening to his songs, would be to tell myself to the heart and brain, because since there are came his words. It would mean revealing the dreams and disappointments, hopes, loves, the thoughts that cross my memories would be like confessing in all respects to God and I love you as I prefer to keep some things for me.
I chose the song as a tribute to me most is that the more I feel my own. Do not look for similarities between me and the text, there are less than you can imagine. Rather, I choose because as a Christian (original) reads the Bible before going to sleep, or during leisure time in church on Sundays, so I listen to this song, it is so important to me. I'd like to come here to read until you went a bit 'below, you took 7 minutes of your life and would listen with attention and silence that Fabrizio has given us. Maybe you will not like, maybe you can not find it exceptional, maybe cry, laugh maybe, maybe ...
The song is "The Will of Titus", the place is the theater Brancaccio in Rome, and his last concert, in fact I wanted to post this video a long time ago, I do not know why I have not done before. There is more love in this text that thousands of poems, thousands of songs, thousands of words, there is freedom, compassion, hope, justice, but above all is the truth, the real and the real one, that only Fabrizio in my opinion was and is able to tell.
Now I leave you to listen and for those who do not know, Tito was the good thief crucified with Jesus in the apocryphal gospels ...

First Death Anniversary Invitation Sample

In the box you

You have a box resting on the shelf in your room. He's been there for a bit 'of time, "I like" thee heard. It 'really a great bell' object, you would not know where to locate the material has been done but perceive that is unique from what seems to shed light shines, it almost seems real from what is not true. Sometimes we do not forget the case and because the box is always still while you and the world turn faster, but when you stop to look and stay kidnapped your mood seems to change. You know it will remain there until want, summers and winters do not scratch it, tears and smiles do not modify.
Now we have to open it ...

How Much Restoril Will Kill U

Parable of the new year

To see him sitting on the tip of the pier made only of wood, perfectly still with his head down looking at the water, it seemed as if it were alive, as an ornament. Instead it was all right, held his fishing pole with his right hand while his left was holding a straw hat that is too big for her head, but good for those rays of sunshine as thick as stalactites falling down from the sky. He had been at that pier, about a dozen times and never got anything. He however did not matter, the fish could still see through clear water and you do not bite meant that it was fate. Furthermore, only in that place did not hear the noise of the world, the best sound of the sea beat on the wooden posts that supported the precarious structure. He stood for a couple of hours and everything seemed to take place as usual: the same hat, the same barrel, the same sea, the same group of fish that were moving along just as coordinated swallows at sunset. Suddenly, however, felt a slight tug on the rod that he was awakened from a dream with open eyes, was not prepared for such an event, and certainly not an expert, but she took courage and began to stand stronger in your hands what a little 'ambiguously called fishing tool. He understood immediately that the game of tug of war with a creature of a few grams heavier than a remote control would have won in a few seconds, and so it was. He picked up the fish with that stuff much like the yo-yo and watched him dangle for a while ', was not large, it was not nice, but hell it was a fish. He took off his straw hat too large for the Roveco, put it inside next and put the fish still quivering. He barely had time to take another position that he felt tug on the rod, the stronger this time. The fight was longer than a minute compared to the previous year, but ended the same way, other fish in the Hat, another satisfied smile.
Within an hour, twenty fish bite; Most of the time it seemed even revolt, as if they wanted to be caught. The straw hat did not hold anything now, then stood up and was thinking, even a ten times, the eleventh winds. How strange is fishing how strange life