Ldv Pilotcooling System

"no avail" Johnny Thunders

Any loss hurts, but it
abandonment and neglect that kills



when ever _____ you had a fur coat
not know what cold is _____


are doomed to failure
any battle is lost before we
struggling to postpone the final defeat and above

revenge victory _____

eyes open
banishes fear not
_____

I like the wild women
those that tend to go
noisily spits



_____ that does not feed hatred



_____ Bored SHEEP? They eat the grass
shit mate
care of their offspring and spend their lives growing
born reproduce and die without leaving the fold


wolf protected by the love the shepherd and watchdog
slaughter without protest
bleating a
pastoral bucolic life boring
insipid yawning and roads marked
without many problems without many hassles

without asking questions without illusions, without dreams they shall inherit the earth



_____ I washing dishes in a sweaty basement
facing a mountain of dirty dishes
the Working humidity heat exhaustion the burden
have destroyed me sad
dirty defeated top beautiful girls have a good time laughing
dance and drink with rich kids cute funny
ascending to see a friend

only avoids meeting me greets me
passing my presence elusive dirt poor host
nothing to do except go back down

tighten
teeth and hope that all this is nothing but a nightmare. _____

Like a wounded animal is screwed into your pain

entrenched in a shell that seems fraught with poison spikes and
without being more than a fragile lie
When you curl up in my arms
smell the wild silence of defeat
If leave to escape his anger would destroy all

_____

seen through the eyes of others

speak through the mouth, the other

take the compass and the pace set,
other so
do not ask for an opinion, a reflection, a commitment
or something else, because nothing can give
.

are chameleon and without any scruples
added to any group
where they conform with ease
but nobody made the slightest attention,
not care,
no scruples, no coherence,
word, not empathy ,
only a pinch of curiosity and temporary child


carefree and empty it does nothing,
anything. Neither
learners or teachers or cooks or friars


that only viewers in his footsteps leave a trail of shirts
old, useless objects, loans not repaid
and stories to complete ...

When Does Pregnancygas Begin?

JPG

July 15, 1952 - April 23, 1991

Toy Party Invitation Wo

Recognize this (to myself) Better

"me a favor and get up when I can not take anything,

when flooded by tears on both sides of your pillow."

And remember that shine in his absence. Always.

Power Saver Schematic

"Blitz" by Enric González Julio Llamazares

Bombings
By: Enric González

Western societies, including English, believed to be guided by reason and logic. But too often behave irrationally. Proof of this is the devotion to the oxymoron. You know, the juxtaposition of antithetical concepts. It is a very useful figure of speech to write poetry and to disguise the reality. For the advertisers love it.

If we sum up in two words the origin of the capitalist economic crisis, we could do with a famous oxymoron: "easy monthly payments." As we have to pay in installments may be comfortable, we are prepared to believe anything else: that the price of housing can go on forever, for example, or that there is always credit.

not need to resort to 1984, George Orwell's novel, to understand the political utility of the oxymoron. In the future society described by Orwell, the government operates with only four ministries: the Ministry of Truth deals with the propaganda, the Ministry of Plenty, the rationing, the Ministry Love, Torture, and the Ministry of Peace, war. In our society today, soldiers are used for peacekeeping missions. And the bombing is humanitarian.

seems like they want to bomb Libya. For humanitarian reasons, obviously. What happens in this country is deplorable, no doubt, and Muammar Gaddafi (friend of the Western leaders to do nothing) is a repulsive dictator. Gadhafi is killing many Libyans. We are outraged at the reports arriving from Libya because we are good and want the best for his neighbor, and we must do something.

There is no time to undo the mistakes that led to the current situation, as the greed of oil or support dictators terrorists who allegedly collaborating with the West in the "war against terrorism." To be frank, we are hungry for oil and nothing we do not like the massive immigration. What happens to us? As a humanitarian bombing (oxymoron) with smart weapons (oxymoron) of those who never cause collateral damage (civilian casualties formerly called), to destroy aircraft Gaddafi.

Another interesting option is to send arms to the rebels, as was done with the "freedom fighters" in Afghanistan (then Osama bin Laden was a "freedom fighter" against the Soviets) or Saddam Hussein in Iraq (When was the war to Iran). What you do then with these weapons is not our concern.

not remember what happened every time the United States and generally what we call the West has sent troops on "humanitarian mission" to a Muslim country. Does anyone remember Lebanon? Does anyone remember Somalia? We prefer to ignore what the Arabs are fed up that they bombard you with the best of intentions. Not even want to see what happens in Afghanistan.

Humanitarianism is the new secular faith, any faith irrational. And yet, we guided by reason and logic

The text is from the blog of Eric Gonzalez:
http://blogs.elpais.com/fronteras-movedizas/
Kalvellido The illustration is

What Happens When Meth

"Such a passion for anything" Horace McCoy

The reader

My countryman Antonio Pereira I think one of the best writers of short stories that has given our recent literature (and, without any doubt, the most brilliant storyteller who have been lucky enough to hear), subtitled one of his several books, titled A both forced (by the script to which he was forced) arms of the Y with ambiguous and unorthodox definition of Twelve stories and a Brazilian novel . The stories were stories of thirty or forty pages, while the Brazilian novel call was a simple story taken from a newspaper in Sao Paulo and describing a mysterious incident in which women appeared committed to a general or a colonel and a lower-ranking military, but, it seems, more vitality, to which one or more unknown had shot while in the interior of a car in a field on the outskirts of the city. As suggested by Pereira, in this brief news story were contained all the elements of a novel, you only have to develop.

With permission from Pereira, give it to me, sure, from his grave in the cemetery of Villafranca del Bierzo, where he rests for a short time, again so original idea, replacing the word novel by fable, more in keeping with the spirit the story with which closes the book, to describe this collection of stories that comprises most of which I have written for years and whose title Such a passion for anything, more than one will surprise you. At a time like this, in which the windows of bookstores are full of self-help books and novels for entertainment, it might seem a mistake to lump persevere in nihilism, even that is a hallmark of personal poetic: The river of forgetfulness, In the middle of nowhere , In Bahia, No one listens ... The collection contains, in addition to the aforementioned tale (just seven lines counted wrong, but that extend indefinitely in time, hence its specific title: "The Day After Tomorrow"), twelve stories of all kinds, from the two letters in the manner of serialized melodrama - "Uncle Mario's Travels" and "A Tale of order" - both written for a newspaper, which are resolved in a few pages. Some were published before, even in book as "Djukic's penalty" (in an anthology, Tales of football, edited by the same house), but most are for the first time. Among them, of course, there are very different issues, including opposing intent and construction, but all share the same vision of life: a lot of passion ... for nothing.

A passion that is part of the art of writing and counting, which is linked to reading and thinking, and allows us to continue living, even though we know its uselessness. He

Cooked With Expired Chicken Broth

Biographical information known by Horace McCoy are scarce but few who know can give us an idea of \u200b\u200btheir lives and their stories. Born in Pegram (Tennessee) in 1897 and prior to participating as an aviator in World War working as a barker of newspapers, street vendor and taxi driver. Between 1919 and 1930 he worked as a sports reporter for the Dallas Journal in Texas and in the late 20's began publishing stories (westerns, black) for pulp magazines. Like many of his contemporaries published in the magazine Black Mask. During the Depression, McCoy moved to Los Angeles in an attempt to be an actor she played in the movie "The Hollywood Handicap (1932). No luck in his acting career and devoted himself to the varied jobs: guardaspaldas, huelguista profesional, peón agrícola, camarero, luchador en clubs de tercera ..., hasta que en 1933 consiguió un empleo en Hollywood como guionista. Allí trabajo para diversas compañías, la Warner Brothers y la Paramount entre ellas, principalmente en películas del oeste. Entre los directores con los que colaboró figuran Henry Hathaway, Nicholas Ray, Raoul Walsh, Edward Dmytrik, George Marshall (“Texas), Fritz Lang (“Western Union” guión que McCoy escribió a dúo con James Cain). También fue guionista -aunque no acreditado- de la película King Kong (1933).

 

In "They Shoot Horses, Do not They?" ("Do not kill the horses?" Or "Dance, Dance cursed") tells in a concise form a dance marathon where jobless and desperate youths participating in this competition where pairs of dancers had to remain standing and moving for as long as possible to earn a few dollars, or to be discovered by a film producer, or just for something eating. Sydney Pollack made a splendid film about the novel.

"I Should Have Stayed Home" ("Hollywood Lights" or "should have stayed at home") is the story of a young actor trying to find work in Hollywood in the 30's, a city where there is "any the tragedy and pain ... all the cruelty and vice. "

In "No pockets in a shroud" ("The shrouds have no pockets") It tells the story of Mike Dolan, a fearless journalist who writes on controversial issues. Noting that the magazine where she works does not publish or a single article he has written the newspaper decides to change. His controversial reports does put a price on his head.

"Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye" ("Say goodbye to the morning") is the story of Ralph Cotter a contradictory character, cruel and tender, thoughtful and impulsive, he made a crime that marked his childhood life. Ralph believes he can find his salvation when he falls for a woman of high society, the daughter of a former governor who is now a corrupt political and financial chief. McCoy ran this thriller in 1948 and was adapted to film in 1950 with the same title (in Spain, "Heart of Ice") and starring James Cagney.

Velodyne Impact 12 Or Psw505

EGOFELICIDAD

My inspiration has come now, make half hour or so when I received a call from a friend telling me the problems with your partner which has joined me one case of a scratch from a friend this morning and something told me my best friend will be three quarters of an hour or so. This echo me think a lot. Horrible moments I remembered a few months ago along with others which I will never forget (which is not itself part bad part is the base part of your life and you can not forget you) I hate to "think." I hate Sundays at home (a few), yes those Sundays which are "made to think" because there is nothing else to do. And "What's all this?

This entry wants to devote all stripes love for someone, anyone, to all who suffer for two: for him / herself to and by / the other / a. This is not writing for me because I have been thinking in my love life (which is currently scarce and I have no shame in saying) I write for all the souls that wander all institutes of the world in pain, seeking an answer to their problems they have emerged over the weekend, something that tells them something that makes you breathe, they return the heart throb again. And that hunch most will find in the other's heart and ours froze after hanging up the call. Who has not happened? You expect me to call you, do not call, you call him, is eating and says I called after lunch, spend an hour "can not eat in an hour? Always and average or less "So that you know. And sige without calling, you call home and do not hold and you call the phone, and says that I have come to take the dog that when he calls you, and does not and spend 2 hours. And you get desperate and you connect to Tuenti and will send a private message and type " said you call me, I've been waiting all afternoon " And suddenly go from being great on a Saturday in pure spring be crying and drive you crazy home, and inside you swept the coldest winter with all your heart, forgive me wrong, the heart stole it for some time that the person you've been waiting for signs of life at home all afternoon desesperandote. Winter came, clear, it will be winter until you return the call or just settle with any nonsense response to private messages. What do you do? Smile and dry your tears as a / a total idiot, just like / the "montapelículas" as you consider that after so many times yet the phone.

By this I mean that if you seek happiness in what you bear another rather crude. Although it is true that, for at least a while, find it in your company. But never, ever do your happiness depend on anyone but yourself. That has nothing to do with you the concept airport, that is, that your life does not depend on whether anyone comes or goes. That when that time comes, will cost up. But as Alejandro Sanz " After the storm comes the calm always" but also says it is true that after " but I know after you, after you nothing." In that case have faith in time, believe me.

For caresses and little details that everyone, however hard that we do, we always miss each person that has set foot on the ground of our heart. I do not think I check dust, because I'm a fucking and now that he is about Easter. Avoid scratching, ye be not more damage.

Pros And Cons Of Radiation Therapy

four poems of Alexander Selkirk

there you have them clinging to their bit of power
proud of the crumbs that have been able to collect and accumulate
proud of your car, your home, your couples, their professionalism ... it has currado
have had good luck and congratulations
have triumphed!
but why the disdain with which they have not succeeded?
why twist the mouth when they smile?
what is wrong?
did have fear?
there you have them and spend

care because that fear makes them vulnerable and dangerous, besides
false, treacherous, mediocre and just deadly, dangerous

and not last to steal, insult, ningunearte,
and stab in the back
when create view jeopardize that bit of paradise

who believe they have conquered
_____

POETRY
the best poems written dejastes
the last night on my body

_____


be free
is not having to choose
_____

not know if saying
- no
who are guilty but who are my enemies
or
- do not know who are my enemies
but who are the culprits

so I am driven by instinct and

by and took position with those who are losing

The vignettes that accompany the poems are Max (Francesc Capdevila)

Wp Themes For Pet Salon

Jesus Gázquez "Rubble"

I demand what they gave me
Like
were born to be judged guilty before
We talk
There is a hunter behind every idea
Fear of the freedom of others all Shoot
what flies. _____


The tramp on the street mea
Revenge is a physiological need

In the heart of being
savor my last days as a bomber
No wealth and satisfaction. _____


decent thing is turn
Leave unnamed days of the week
not give opportunity to the future

loose dog is a change for the life I'm not going to plant
what I gather. _____


men are not equal
Hunger distinguishes us

The world smells like wet dog
A bin is my mouth
The rust is a perfume

The look a glass wine
bites heart drunk. _____


The love life is nothing but an absurd fear of death


every day I care less what I have so abandoned
More
_____

How Much Does Database Management Cost

Incendies

Original title:
Incendies Country: Canada / France

Length: 130 min
Genre: Drama
Color: Color
Release Date: 11/03/2011
Director: Denis Villeneuve
Screenplay: Denis Villeneuve on the work of Wajdi Mouawad
Cast: Lubna Azabal, Mélissa Desormeaux-Poulin, Maxim Gaudette
Music: Grégoire Hetzel
Photo: André Turpin
Editing: Monique Dartonne

Plot: When the notary
Lebel (Rémy Girard) makes twins Jeanne and Simon Marwan (Mélissa Desormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Gaudette) reading of the will of their mother Nawal ( Lubna Azabal) are astonished to see that they do deliver two envelopes, one to a father they thought was dead and the other to a brother whose existence is ignored. Jeanne
seen in this enigmatic silence the key legacy of his mother, locked in an inexplicable silence in the last weeks before his death and immediately decided to travel to the Middle East to exhume the past of a family you know almost nothing ...

To download "fire"
http://fileserve.com/file/uafCtYP

Faith Evanshair Color

ever, late and poorly.

I came to a conclusion on Saturday, and the 3 / 4 parts of a human life passes them by denying love. But why disown the love if the people blame? We the people: the human being, love, hate, keep the strongest feelings of resentment and end up forgetting everything, and yet what I mean at first it was all and now is nothing. Love is just the tool, the patch of red clay that we can model and make it a world, that all. Thanks to that piece grow red. We give each one a different and a different meaning. For a love means not alone, for others to share, others believe in happiness, others immediately associated with pleasure. Good God, think of whom is then to blame? Not his or yours. Clearly women and men are and will forever be something indescodificable, not love, but what we do with it.

Although we can not imagine also continue ignoring the existence uncomfortable memories, traumas, guilt, helplessness, fear, despair, insecurities, complexes, loss, loneliness or bulging egos. All of these spiders will acurruadas in a corner of our bedroom while trying to sleep.

How Much Does The Ski Cost?

I need love literature

"I Need Love" is an autobiography written with nerve and claw, stark and bold, passionate and sexual, bluntly, openly, without shame, without compromise. Klaus Kinski gives a review of his childhood, war, his season in the asylum, their experiences (and opinions) on theater, film, fame, film directors, love and life. For Kinski, life, freedom, love and sex are closely related and all his autobiography (Life) is a search of that freedom, that love and sex, sex and more sex.

Christmas Eve. The party of peace and joy. The room is cold and dark so we do not see the faces. Nobody says a word. Just heard the breathing. However, I know they're all here. In recent weeks I have seen people carrying packages fir and tomorrow night. Now, from our window, I can see behind the curtains of the houses opposite the lighted candles subject to the firs, the colored balls, the glittering garlands, strips of silver and gold paper and attached clear stars the windowpanes.

I won a stunted fir, but we have no candles or any other hardware ornament to decorate the tree. Not even an iron stand on which to keep you dig it up. (....) The only decoration of your window is the shimmering frost which covered the glass with millions of delicate crystals, forming a steady stream of pictures, much more beautiful than the most expensive curtains. (P. 28)

But I do not regret! I must not despair under any circumstances! I do not even get sad! That would take away the hate me, and I need to hate! None of scorn, contempt tires: I need is hate, hate evil and bent on revenge! (P. 112)

Minhoi

I love above all else. I love her more than my life. I love the magical beauty of her face and body. I love her soul, haunts me, full of mysteries and full of wonders. It is my wife and my mistress and the mother of my child, bring it to the world. And yet, our living is becoming more painful. Minhoi is completely innocent of our terrible fights. All my fault. My feelings are so intense, so disproportionate my fantasy and my reactions so violent that looks just like a natural disaster that destroys everything in its path and leaves behind more that desolation. The opposing forces in me is fighting to death, and threatens to tear apart. I have wanted to throw me to the top of a tower! (P. 255)

My agent housekeeper brings a Japanese woman, Nauka. Japanese cuisine and Chinese dishes beautifully, washes, irons, keeps the house clean, wash the car, making the purchase, answer the phone, cleans the pool, water the flowers and mow the lawn, and everything is done quickly, quietly and with a smile. In return, in addition to pay, I have to fuck her. Morning, noon, afternoon, evening, every time I wake up with a kiss from his deep sleep. Even when cooking, cleaning or doing standing next to the dishwasher, or washing the car, provided that under her panties and fuck me, naked and hot pussy I grab the bone like a dog growls and shows his teeth when they try take a deserved reward.

I was so happy during those two months, I felt so elated, so elated, so happy at last-child again, I have not noticed approaching the day when I have to take to Guatemala Nanhoi with Minhoi.

Early this morning I go in a speedboat to the mainland where Nanhoi Minhoi and have rented a house. Nanhoi waves at me from the top of some rocks. Y I salute my Nanhoi time standing on the bow of the boat, and we both salute until the boat with me on board, disappeared from their sight beyond a bend of the coast, and neither am I. I can see it now. But while I go to Guatemala airport to catch a plane to Los Angeles, still see before my eyes your dear little hands waving.

traveling in the same taxi the millionaire daughter of Pepsi Cola. We must rely on each other: we have been screwing up the last minute. She's beautiful, but more importantly is its very wide hips and ass huge, and neither has crossed my mind the idea of \u200b\u200btirármela in another position other than behind.

"My name is Morgan Fairchild," says one girl, sitting alone at a table in the restaurant Le Dôme, threaded with a fork and cold spaghetti, along which there is a cup of black coffee and also cold. Through the girl in the reception, which always touched her breasts, asking me if I sit with her. I agree. Everything

Morgan Fairchild is feverish. It is so searing fever, her cheeks are pink so burned, and has eyes so searing that seems consumptive fever. His hands are so hot and her tits, her tummy, her ass, her delicious pussy feverishly horny, wet and hot, her thighs febrile, feverish skin, hair, fever, febrile ears, lips, fever ...

exchanged our phone numbers and promise to call. But what Nauka? Nauka

and would have drawn the eyes of Grace Bongo, a sweeping African schoolgirl of sixteen, whether in the past I had not postponed the deflowering of the young black until the day Nauka going to buy raw tuna to the Japanese market Los Angeles, which always takes several hours.

A Grace met her at an Air France flight to Paris-Los Angeles. He knelt on the floor in front of my seat and asked me for an autograph. At that moment I knew and she no doubt) I was going to burn my autograph in the matrix.

Thank God I'm done with that crap hollywoodera command of Billy Wilder. For someone who sees it from outside, it is impossible to imagine the degree of imbecility, bluster, hysteria, dictatorship and deadly boring to be endured when shooting with Billy Wilder. With him, the alleged authors are merely wool dogs trained to do and play monkey tricks to bring the stick over and over again until the vomiting does one believe that all have become stark mad. I thought that delirium was not going to go on forever. But I charged a bundle for those few days. In the future rodarás serious films with Herzog and comic me, "Billy Wilder told me at our first meeting, at La Scala.

I think it is rather the opposite: the so-called comedies of Billy Wilder long ago are no longer funny, but stilted and Plumb, and laughter is one freezes in the corners of his mouth. But if I do what Herzog wants his alleged serious films would be unintentionally funny.

So far, I pursued those parasites of scribblers who want to cram in my blood like a tick. Chupópteros, thieves and looters. Everyone wants to write books about me. Want to get rid of the crap out of your intellectual constipation, adding its disgusting personal touch: biography, filmography, videography, interviews, comic comic, talk-shows and any other kind of decay arising from human minds. After trying to squeeze for doctoral theses at universities, I now use as a school subject (How warning to young women?). The University of Michigan, in Chicago, ask me through my agent, if I want to pronounce for the upcoming Holy Week a conference about the crucifixion of Jesus Christ! And the Baltimore Symphony asks if I want to talk about Beethoven in front of the orchestra during the interval! The university does not think me anything, and it is Jesus Christ! The symphony offers me $ 10,000 for ten-minute chat. The command to one and all to hell. French Culture Minister Jack Lang, sent me through the French Embassy in Los Angeles the award "Commander of the Order of Arts and Literature" (What the hell you mean that?) As he has done for France and the rest of the world this time not attached any check! Here someone has a screw loose! What does she think this guy? "Granted" a bargain like that! They're all like a goat! I tell my agent to return this grand mess. (P. 345-347)

A documentary on Klaus Kinski, "My intimate enemy" by Werner Herzog.