Im Paranoid I Got Herpes

I have no words ... Delusions

article has been taken from the site italiadallestero

interview Berlusconi 'manipulated' for TV
Article by domestic politics, culture and religion Society, published Wednesday, June 3, 2009 in Holland.

[Algemeen Dagblad]

Rome - The Italian public broadcaster RAI has now passed herself in submission to Prime Minister Berlusconi.
RAI journalists usually shake the idea of \u200b\u200bputting questions to the Prime Minister that he does not like.
For this reason, in recent weeks, the news programs have treated the news of Mr Berlusconi's alleged affair with a teenager with great caution, but news that it has led to intense controversy in the newspapers.
On the other hand, has been given much space to an 'interview on CNN with Berlusconi, during which the premier says no contradictory, that all the rumors were based solely on left-wing slander. Berlusconi
broadcasters have sent long stubs, but both the first and the third channel of RAI done even better, sending a version 'manipulated' interview on CNN.
In the images that have used it can be seen, to the left of the premier, his party's election symbol: a circle with the word PRESIDENT BERLUSCONI. In the movie clip of CNN was not there, but RAI has added to the words spoken by superimposing premier issuer American images of Italian commercial Videolina interview issuer. The owner of Videolina, a fan of Berlusconi, added the logo of the party to the movie, which he then passed to the RAI. Using those images, even the RAI has transformed the interview with CNN in a campaign ad for Berlusconi. Even
the movies are working for the campaign. In the movie Night at the Museum 2 by little in the rooms, the main character Ben Stiller meets a Napoleon, who tells him that one of his descendants circulating in Italy, once a "singer on a ship, and that some really like." In the version dubbed into Italian, the phrase has become "much like that at all."

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more I think the more I feel there is a sort of sadistic punishment of God in all this. A sentence to be served a crap job in my previous life.
I did not choose to be like, or only in part. Anyone who knows me knows that deep down I am a bit 'a kind little man trapped in a body of a woman. Are heterosexual, that's for sure, but I've got very little of women. Apart from the establishment of unwanted hair on my clothes, shopping, beauty treatments of little interest to me. I'm just like.
Then you probably understand why people just shake so much for certain things. As a wedding.
Now, I'd understand if I was the marriage or (very remote possibility, but I am sure that in this case I make every effort to try to look your best) or if I was best man, sister, mother of the bride and groom . But I do not have any of this, only a guest at a wedding, as indeed is my mother. Friend's history, ok, but only a guest.
The dress I do. No one can give me if wrong "recycling" what degree. I like a lot, I paid a lot to me is also good, and I wore once and for these reasons I am happy to have a second chance to wear it.
Sure, it's a bit 'low-cut and I'm not tanned at all, indeed, are as white as a corpse . But I hate the sun and have not had time to go to sea. As for the sun, there's no story, not me I will never make one. Are white and remain white. More than enough Berlusconi and Carlo Conti with their chestnut-colored complexions. I can not go to the hairdresser
: marriage is Monday and hairdressers are closed. Then if you put me there I know the commitment system from me, now that I'm short.
course, if it rains tomorrow, the campers a bit 'but it certainly does not depend on me.
In light of these facts I think everything is under control, no?
And then I explain why my mother is all excited and I Scassa to die?
Since he does is known about this marriage, to do things aimed at marriage. Before
anxiety wedding gift. Thanks to the list it was easy, so why be afraid? Then the die
clothing. And how I dress myself, and my father the way he dresses, oh my God oh my God we have nothing, come here, go there, no not here do not have the stuff I like to me, we go to Florence, yes, now there's the dress but the shoes are missing.
Where can I find shoes? Help help, try the shoes could almost do pay me to buy her aunt nay nay pay me or maybe buy them.
only thing missing is the handbag. But I do not have bags, I wonder if I buy another, no there there was not a good, Marta, you have bags to borrow? No this does not fit well on, I will turn all the shops until I find a bag.
But what do you get? The graduation dress? Are you sure? Did you already put! Yes Mom, I'm putting it only on the day of graduation. It's not that I'm going to do with that dress then the garden there, you think? Yes, the jacket I did not have more throw. I have two pairs of shoes that are comfortable, do not worry. It depends on the weather. No, Mom, I have new bags. The black gave me her aunt I think that would be fine ... No, Martha, that is too "usualina (usualina fucking mean?). I've seen a pretty, pink beans in the store the other day. Why do not you go and you buy it? You've already told you, mother, why not go and buy it myself: why is it pink bean.
And the hair? How will you do with your hair? I arranged them by me, Mom. Are you sure? It will not be better to go to the hairdresser that is open on Monday, I discovered that I? No mom, I prefer to be alone and me know about them them a little disorder that might put my head in the hands of those who do not know and maybe together with one of Stephanie Beautiful style hoods in the '80s. Then today
TRAGEDY. Given the disastrous weather my mom brought together the great advice: my aunt. Oh, but if it's raining, but I have cold, but I get too hot ... No, no, here we need a jacket, a shawl is not enough. No, the sweater is sloppy. Marta, but you've got yourself a jacket? Sure Mom, I have the jacket matched the dress. And the shoes! Oh the shoes! I have sandals! And how do if it rains? I absolutely have to buy a pair closed because if it rains ... Martha and how will you? I have two pairs of shoes suitable for mom: a pair of sandals or closed shoes. I choose on the basis of the time it will do. From here
frantic series of speeches and rambling with my aunt ... But do you remember the wedding of our quadriscugina Gigetta in '91 when there was instead heavy clothing and hot? Remember when she married Gandolfo '70s, when it rained all the time, I was wrong to put the sandals. Yes, because what Ramunzia '85, when they did the refreshments and outdoor shower was terrible?
They go on from yesterday and still are talking about. And he married the daughter of a friend, not a close relative ...
Then people are surprised that I do not want to marry me and ask me why!

How Do I Remove History In Dvr

talk it over with the family of former


The blog of a 'friend made me decide to post this piece written some time ago

few nights ago I dreamed about my ex. Not an ex a chance but my first boyfriend or, as Jupiter when it relates to him, "the former" pronounced with a deep voice and trembling from horror movies, to underline the appalling mess that his figure caused in my life.
In my dream, against all odds that gave my bald to 98.9% of cases, he still had all his hair, or Cesare Ragazzi had done a great job.
Even the noble features of his face were more or less unchanged.
When we were together was really a pretty face. Not of those beauties that stir upsetting and women who make them think "what a beautiful mama figaccione me as I would." Her beauty was more elegant, delicate, refined, not a beauty of those who have sex style Hollywood actor, I would say that was the classic actor and sad beauty of Italian fiction of the early evening here. Of those cute, ephebic and without fear of an ass. They are nice to look at but certainly the first thing that inspired it is not the sex. With that face there was 10 cm taller and had done a test would certainly cinecittà got one of those series of 5-10 episodes. With a couple of favorites Jacopo Ortis there would have been better for him while he writes his last letters in a TV series made with his feet, he could be credibilissimo in the leading role in fiction dedicated to the first inventor of the rubber checkering on the accelerator pedal, or with fewer pretensions, as a distant cousin of Elisa di Rivombrosa. As far as I have never auditioned or career on the small screen and was probably a mistake. If he did I'm sure that would have taken and now have a nice nest egg aside. But these are my assumptions that have nothing to do with what I mean.
is not unusual, because, at least for me, dream of the former. Although it is not one of my recurring dream. Sometimes it happens that they dream, that's all, as I sometimes dream to be still in high school and be unprepared for the question of English. But his dream and in that context, I left a bit 'weird.
No, do not worry, I've dreamed of going to bed. I just dreamed that we were talking and dreaming in some sense this is almost more absurd than to be dreaming of going to bed.
I met my ex last year of high school. If it were really in love or not, that still does not say so, nor do I think it'll never be able to. What I know is that it was a story dreamed idealized, perfect in many ways. It was spring and the two went to her scooter. In the Florentine countryside wisteria plants were flowering everywhere. Funny how even today, after ten years, the sweet smell of wisteria and I will remember them. The school was at the end, the exams curavamo close but not there. We made love and went to ride.
how everything has gone on, changed, evolved not say. I have no clear idea of \u200b\u200bwhat happened later, only confused memories. I only know that the story went on for several years, then ended. A very sad end for me.
initially said the blame for my suffering to the fact that I'm still in love but I lied to myself and him. Did not love her. I loved her because I had left it. I loved her because I had spent with him, at least in part, a good time.
Then there was a period in which I continued to suffer, perhaps for that series of strange feelings that are wide at the end of every story: the pride, the change of habits, the insecurity of having to face life alone once again, the anger that he had rebuilt a life while I was single and I was doing wrong. The desire for revenge, perhaps for revenge led me among other arms, to try to be what was not. Then the hatred against him, almost to deny its existence.
was my first relationship, my first serious story that ended, and it took me quite a lot 'of time before returning to the track.
I think it was this, the fact that it was my first experience of history that ended badly, with a succession of phases in the tumultuous events of confused, to ensure that even today, years later, by which time his memory is but a distant dot in a completely different life, that his name be remembered with a shudder of horror movies in the collective imagination. Funny how one face of fiction has turned into a horror face.
Then this dream. Nothing earth-shattering if you will, nothing abnormal. I was at his house, his sister's room now that was gone and had become his. And talked. Which seems to me was telling me was coming to the wedding and see his girlfriend in a picture that kept on the nightstand. A pretty girl fresh-faced and cheerful, with long curls and a big smile blacks. I was happy that he married. The room was bright
I remembered, with the strong smell of wood that I liked so much. At one point I pointed out some things to my ex as the room had changed: there was a new desk, stuffed animals had been removed from the trunk next to the bed and the curtains were also different colors. And I asked him if the case was not in the small bathroom that had been one of my cosmetic bag which kept the Pupa and particularly that for a long time I searched in vain.
His eyes in the dream have become sad and I have fixed a long time. Then I said "What a strange feeling. For you it's like in this room for all these years, the time had never passed. I remember exactly as it was when we were together all the details and have continued to remember so all this time. I, however, live there still, I never noticed. I never noticed the small changes that have been over the years, having always been here, but you've seen everything. "
So ended my dream, with this note of strange melancholy.
And indeed it is. The last time I saw my ex was in 2001. We were still together. We greeted each other on a hot July afternoon at the station in Florence. I was leaving for the sea. I boarded the train with her eyes full of tears. We were in crisis and did not know what to expect the return of the holidays. When I returned home two weeks later, we heard only briefly by phone. He was in love with another with whom he had begun a story in my absence. It was very hard, verbally violent. He did not want to see him again. For a long time I tried to compare but in vain. I wanted to see him again, just to get my stuff and make it his, but he refused, even after months, perhaps fearing that I was always in love with him, I could creargli problems with his new girlfriend. After months of trying I gave up. At the end of this romance had given me a lesson: you can not expect people to change. You can only share or less choices, but in the end the only thing to do is accept that not everyone think like you. There is no sense fighting windmills like Don Quixote.
So I never see again, or met by accident in any place. I do not know what he looks like now, what we do in life and if, as I suppose, has lost his hair at that time were already beginning to diminish.
dream last night made me understand why this story, now a uniformative memory of a love that is no longer part of my life, the other loves have passed strong and overwhelming, I still create and melancholy because every time I feel the smell of wisteria me a lump in my throat tighten.
was not the love affair, the hurt of defeat. It was not hatred or anger. These are things that fade with time up to fade away, one of the great gifts that give us the years go by.
E 'the melancholy of the past renegade nice to know that it is not even a memory, when perhaps the sole purpose as human beings genetically Our aim is to be remembered.
It 's the certainty that if now, after so many years, we met again by chance, there probably will not recognize or pretended not to know, when in fact maybe what I would greet him, shake his hand and say "hello, how are you? I'm fine, I still remember you with a smile. "

Bf Penis Too Big Inches

And watch the world from a porthole ...


After spending a week dopata based Aulin and penicillin cause abscess in a tooth, I'm back here again, his face deflated. Did not seem like a Lino Banfi. I often
, when "heal" from a disorder that I had, to feel as if I woke up from years of sleep, a kind of Sleeping Beauty without beauty, without a prince, and especially without the wood. Still numb from sleep I look around to assess what has happened while I slept, what I missed, something has changed.
So I find that work has happened half a ruckus (and balls, I thought, when I miss things always happen more "juicy") that I have to open the VAT and the people are all mad and angry, perhaps the muggy heat.
Sometimes in these cases, I happen to become estranged from the world, life, of looking at things outside, and through binoculars as the contrary I seem distant.
My father has a bad habit: when he saw the angry people to death begins to laugh and do not know how to stop. The fact is, of course, is increasing even more incazzatura of angry, but that's another story. The fact is that my father not to laugh or to mock the challenge of the other but because it goes beyond the situation, it looks like a baby the funny faces that make people furious, and starts laughing.
What is genetics, which are drugs or heat, the fact is that I these days I'm estranged from everything and I tried to experience things as if I were looking from the outside, as if I saw on TV, for see what effect they do, that have made the small screen.
I look around and see people pissed off, people screaming, yelling, insults, who loses his voice for a parking lot. People who spend their lives in the liver fret for trivial reasons. People who surrender to things that would be much more important for a job that frustrates them and makes them unhappy.
Over the past three days I saw only this, the screams pissed, speeches acids, resentments, to ricattini.
Well, last night, when I attended the nth sclero absurd to the person who stood before me, for things objectively futile, but at the time were very important for her, as if they were matters of life and death, I realized that sometimes I am part of the mixture, so sometimes I sclero.
Sometimes I gnaw the stomach for a job that does not give me even € 250 per month and no satisfaction on a personal level, yet I spend whole days to work towards is best done, as is done must be done.
unnecessary I ran the car to find parking near the place where I go, to lose less time, so I can spend more on things that I have no desire to do, but I feel I must do.
I try to do everything so well because no one else has anything to criticize me, nothing to say, the expectations are not disappointed in me, and I blame for even minor errors that I do, what others can not see even with the lens magnification.
Well, yesterday, looking at the face of the contract that chick sclera, I realized that maybe in the end does not so well take themselves so seriously.
E 'pointless trudge to reach a hypothetical perfection, which we know does not exist. There will always be a comma out of place.
E 'useless fret the liver for all the things that happen to us, because the unexpected will continue to happen, whether you want them or not.
It 's stupid to live for work, take a tip, since the only thing that can give you some extra money, then you can not enjoy even if you're too stressed and busy working.
So you might as well take themselves less seriously and to live life as it comes, relax, laugh and sometimes a bit 'of ourselves. At the end is right my friend Sara, which I will never be sufficiently grateful for making me understand that sometimes what can save us from the madness it is to live carelessly.