How To Take The Phlegm Out Of My Baby

Happy Birthday love

Today is your birthday. I called you. I have not forgotten, as I did that year: I would never head the August 31, however, that terrible year had finally gotten off my mind, I forgot your birthday. I said I was sorry I did not want you off my mind 100%. But unwillingly took. You see. I remember back to our respective birthday we sent them a box full of gifts, things made for us: drawings, photos, a ring or bracelet , things like that. I remember I liked the way you had to get with that box full of surprises, birthday cheer. But let's send those box. Because little little, to be the woman of my life, spent be the woman he was going to have less contact the rest of my life . Years since we've seen, and nothing happens. I know you're okay, so little to tell me. You do not read my blog, I write it here. If not, perhaps, remain silent. I've bought something, anything, silly. And as we talked, as spoken by people who call for commitment (and why I did not call for commitment, but the conversation has gone as if it were), I asked you to send me a message to the mobile address home, to send "it" that I've purchased. This morning I've said I would send the message with your address, I'm still waiting . And if it will not.

Must see in what way we parted. You who taught me many good things. You, you were everything, and now with this distance are nothing. You, you helped me so much and taught me the value of many things, and that one day no more, I said goodbye that way. And today I have the audacity to talk about you here. Because here usually talk about important things. And you, you ... Despite this hobby of yours to get away, you are important. That's why I write. So, I tell you today that although the nonsense that I've bought never comes, I can always combine them with other things that you never sent and are still here, in some drawer.

Happy Birthday.

427 Ss Trucks For Sell

Friday, holiday cooking and kitchen memories

On Friday, at work, we breathe a different air. You see people smiling more and more eager to work. However, my boss, the more nervous Friday is when it is.
And now everything was different. Talking faces (happiness, leisure, plans), I did not say anything. During the month of August, on Friday we went out before work, and while almost all of my colleagues complain and say that instead of the three could go out at 2. More than one I would like my see them working 15 hours straight, burning his hands with bleach, having to squeeze a sponge to clean the marks left by glasses in the bar of metal. More than one, yes, more than one "he muttered.
I would like to see them wondering why the boss use much bleach to lighten the cloth. I would like to see their injuries later, and that smell ... the smell of bleach in the skin that appears not to want to leave.

But there they are. Complaining about this, what else. Now, I'm happy, is this working?. Sorry, no. Work was to carry boxes of cola, dark basement. Is to push that car with five boxes of Coke, a ramp 20 meters that seemed to never end. And the back pain. The calluses on the palms. That feeling of apathy and resignation. That, comrades, this was work, not what we do. That, to me, sitting at the computer doing what I do, it's a little game that gives me wisdom and comfort. I have fun, entertain me. Nobody bothers me, treat me well. It does not hurt your back, or I get calluses on their hands or smell of bleach. Working 5 days a week, removing the holidays and vacations. What do you want me to say?. I've been lucky. And I'm glad I lived those days in those bars, all those things. Sure. All that I lived and I saw, I use today to appreciate more the work. To not complain foolishly and without reason.

And I see my, with strange tingling in my stomach. Because besides being Friday, my vacation starts today: I expected a bye week and days in Granada. Break, that laughter, as if I get tired when you're sitting at your computer every day, as I say, doing a job I like and entertains. But hey. lives and enjoy the moment -I repeat every day. Do not know what will last. So I use my free time to write, play what I like, reading, going out, doing crafts ....

Today, for example, we have kitchenettes: croquetas caseras y un pastel de queso. He aquí, la prueba:

Who Did The Yellow Power Ranger Die

¿Por qué tienes esa alfombra tan fea, y sucia en el lavabo? - me dices con cara de asco -.
Primero: no es una alfombra fea. Es una alfombrilla de baño, sí, eso que usan las personas normales y corrientes, para apoyar los pies cuando salen de la bañera. Y no esta sucia. Es de color gris y está mojada, quizá eso de sensación de sucia. Pero te equivocas, a ver si vamos mirando mejor, antes de abrir la boca.

Me haces preguntas extrañas. Preguntas sobre como coloco los libros en la estantería. "Why not put the big books, with large and small, with small, why the mix? . Do not mix. I like that. I like them as they are. So my mother put the encyclopedias at home, but this is not my mother, is mine. And I have them because that's how I like them.

You always, with that air of knowing everything. You are perfectly imperfect. You. You've held my hand so many times, and has released several others. You. You gave advice then you never applied. I looked and told me, seriously: I had to stop missing you . And you called me, called me in the mornings, afternoons and evenings. When fear and loneliness, you said, stormed home. And you wanted to go down to the portal to wait for my arrival, scantily clad. No. You're not here, on the walls of my house. Or on the walls of the heart you left so broken and so alone. No longer miss you, baby. And let's look at your photos. These photos, for which he asked as his eyes go over every one of my shelves, when asked by that I have hung posters on the walls.

What did you think the only among women. You thought only your hand could make my body tremble. And you were not alone. And I've noticed, while crossing legs, sitting on my couch, sofa gray. Well, I see that you like the gray tones - I say, without taking your eyes off mine. Yes, so you left my life when you left that day, and today is part of the past. The left gray. So I had to color it gray sole. Based on hosts on the wall give me a basis to scream your name, and trample your memories in the kitchen, my bed, bath, everywhere. And today, you just sit there and ask me why I like both gray what do you think, sweetie?. Come

. It's time you go. My life goes on when you walk out that door.
come to dinner tonight friends. Yes, those friends you fell so bad, because I stole the time that could have happened to you. Selfish . That I told you that night, just before sweating together in bed. I asked for forgiveness, would not say what he really thought and said. And I hurt. Smite me with your absence, with the calls that never did, to go alone to the movies, with citations to those who never came, with afternoons and evenings, when I called and said nothing.

Anyway.

And now you're here. And it seems to want to stay. But in this house, no place for you. Yes, sorry, but she knocks on the door. She? -questions. Yes You thought I was alone?. No. Long ago I stopped cooking your memories in the kitchen. She is ... Well, wait. I'll introduce. Ah
what you're leaving?. Very soon, right?. Sorry. not want to hurt you - I say, while firing at the door.
No, you hurt me, tranquil. Just that I still love - stutter.
back whenever you want, I say, smiling shyly.
do not think - tell me.

elevator and the noise bursts that leave space when you leave. You're gone. And it's funny, I feel a little empty.
A voice. From the lounge. Call me. She is. My love, my new love: my future.
I'm coming baby.
Coming.

Pain Inleft Gland After Drinking

When you save a book

I know I am clueless. I know that when I walk down the street with the mp3 in the ears, a book in his left hand, and the other in his pocket ..... I somewhat clueless. In my world. Mentally writing any scene, which adapt to the next chapter. Because sometimes, with small ideas that large.

And no, I was walking, there was only just leaving work, crossing the first pedestrian crossing, every day, and then the second, that I have not crossed, because it can not be called cross . The light was green, and I started to walk over the zebra crossing, but my attention has been focused on women of Pharmacy. That I always see, and I never know exactly what you think at 9 am, looking so lost and sad face. A man handed him something (not yet know it, and believe me I have this object in mind.) He gave something, and she smiled as she held the thing in hand. And it was at that time, when I encountered, had just finished crossing the crosswalk, I encountered not know that yet, and I dropped everything that I am long (almost one meter seventy). I've been lying facedown on the sidewalk, staring at the girl with the sad face with the thing in hand. I got up as fast as I could. The girl has approached me, I wanted to offer help, but I said that was fine, and I thanked him. " I saved the book eh? - he says -". I smile. Yes Yes

and fled. Because what we've done can not be called otherwise. He fled the scene. Recalling that the girl wanted to heal the knee and elbow, which I have touched me. And yes, he was right not to carry the book in his left hand, I would have scratched the face, hand and whole arm. But I had to fall with his face on the book, and the same arm, has also fallen on it, thus, the worst part he has taken the book, which is completely shaved below (A pity, because it was new). I was not aware of the pain and scrapes that the book has saved me until I assimilated my fall, which was when I saw the white pants dirty and broken. Then the scene came to my head, I in the ground, which I took to get up, fall down on. Then the girl from the pharmacy that wanted me the cure, and I said I was perfect, and a horn! was cast pieces, but I did not discover that it was that man gave him, and that has so captured my attention and made me not look at the floor, and stumble. I did not want so little, to be near her, I did not discover her face to be sad at 9 am. Like imagine.

When I come home I have made appropriate cures. My elbow has been well:



If the picture is not appreciated at all, the huge scrape that I've done. But I decided to teach the elbow, and to do my knee because I have unpleasant raw right now. So you better elbow.

And here, the book that saved my life these days ............... often thought billet book to take to work everyday. It weighs an egg. Thought, looks have not begun to read my other, which was more finite, as there had to be this. Because I had to save the coup. And, true, books, Sometimes, we also save lives.