Putting Cheats On Gpsphone

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And so the famous primary has reached the fame he deserved, that of criminal. Perhaps his story will hit both of her daughter compose a beautiful piece of blues and jazz songs instead of the horrid (which is not jazz). Yes, she has nothing to do, but if it were not for daddy's money, he could not follow lessons of jazz in America. At this time would be wasting his talent by singing in some local group. If you really had to reach a place at the top, could aspire to do the backing vocals in the group "Antonio Modica and Mohac Machine".
I could not read and understand the mischief that this person made famous because I was up sick. I'll never understand how you can get so low by the lure of money.
Maybe it's better to see the thing in a different perspective: the snip is seeing the collapse of his empire and who knows if that hateful expression pompous have it printed on his face still soggy. Doctor, now, heal thyself.

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roads that lead to dreams

I state that my intention is not comparable to the great masters of art, but if Michelangelo the mood created, it did not have to wait for the eighteen, a punch, did the shopping, tidying the house, cook dinner, did a shower and then gave free rein to the imagination! Right now I have a set of ideas that comes to mind, but I can only hope to remember all of you for tonight. In addition, I usually head into the worm that gnaws and when I feel the gnawing of the worm in the head means that something is wrong or at least is taking the wrong turn.
In times of chaos like this, among a thousand requests, annoying customers and petulant, and zero desire to do only the good sense to stop me blow it, I like to imagine myself in a huge art studio full of paints and brushes, canvases and other soiled white. Dream tables full of clay to be molded, precious stones and colored glass to be set to forge. Not having any of this the only action I can do and that comes close to what I like to do is cook a dessert.
Nothing is more delicious that the smell of cakes for the home. Cinnamon, vanilla, cocoa ... apples. And it's just nice to share with those you love what you cooked. The slice of cake on the saucer of china, forks, good service and an aromatic tea after meal. I know, I would have tea, in Italian, but I prefer to use the English term,
And all this must be tasted before the sun obliges you to stay away from home before spring arrives to disrupt the small daily habits. Should be made to enjoy the warmth of home, the flames of fire, rain, and why not, the windows steamed up.
Nothing reconciled me with the world to leave the office, wearing scarf and hat and feel the biting cold, see the clouds of smoke that form when you speak or breathe and walk slowly to the car imagining that this is not the way road that goes from office to car, but one of those paths of the English countryside, bordered by beautiful houses with slate roofs and gardens. And from my beloved bay windows can be glimpsed the hosts who drink brandy before the fireplace and talked among themselves of the new events in the county.

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The trunk in the attic

Ssh! Silence, are being creative. I had a few days of discouragement. There were no original ideas of cloning and I did not want. So, why should I repeat (and also bad) things I see around when I put my? So tonight the need to buy (I say partly because I do not have enough time to buy everything) and I will get to work.
pity that time is a tyrant and I spend the most in this square of bricks, with the desk attached to the window and back to the wall like a gecko. And wasted talking about things that do not interest me for anything less than anything you can say is the advantage. The head, however, I have imagined in my attic. That where I go in the evening when your imagination free and open wide the trunk and then we find old things and new things, those I accingerò to create. Ideas are not always beautiful, but there's nothing more humiliating to want to do and do not know what.
I do not know what is really putting his head. And maybe you better not ask me. I only infected friend who took the ball and as it is more sure of myself I think that will burn the stages.
Patience. I, after all, are those who like to stay behind the scenes. Or in the attic, among cobwebs old rocking chairs, boxes and chests overflowing with old dreams and new dreams.