Thursday, August 21, 2008

How To Clean Patent Leather Wallet

Thought Concern = = = Agitation ... might as well not to think. The class of Prof. Ayad

Elise returned from the post office concerned: no longer had his wallet with them. The portfolios were € 50.00 in cash, debit cards, driving licenses, the 's identity card ... Elise's heart was in my throat. He called his mother, desperate to tell the tale, "and now how do I do? In a foreign country without money and documents." The mother advised her to return to post, perhaps he had left his wallet there. Elise went to the post. The clerk who had served at the counter, Elise just walked into the office, he smiled and showed her his wallet: "I think this is your ...". Elise was in seventh heaven, fortunately nothing happened.
This story teaches us that to be happy we need awareness. Millions of people distracted have a wallet in his pocket, but does not make them happy. This story teaches us that often there is no reason to worry, no reason to be happy, because actually rejoice when things return to normal (according to our perception, because in fact, never been changed)?

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Csea Dental Claim Form

Alabbar. The science of



I miss the days When I was listening the amazing story of arabs. Now I've to study it.

Doujinshi Pokemon 400

Heyoka, ie: "let's pretend that reality is different"

As science progresses? People who are trying to find something, you find something else.
Saturday, me, my brother and my father, we dismantled a portion of the roof. My father removed the tiles from the roof, they went to my brother on the stairs, he threw them to me and I they position on the floor. Upload all platforms, we had to bring up others: my brother was down to tie with a string so that I could pull them up from the barn. Pull up the first down I raised the string, but I did not do the Christian way, it took me all the idiocy that I inherited from my mother, I tied a cord of wood to eighteen, justifying this act to my brother saying that given the inconsistency of its weight, the cord would come to earth if I had not weighed. These gestures are stupid and devoid of useful techniques that I and my brother when we do we make a boring job, do it just to laugh a bit '. Well, my brother has taken up the challenge of my idiocy: took the rope tied to eighteen, and has stuck by the axes of the platform. Auks I pulled on the platform without a hitch. Do you realize? We have discovered a more efficient procedure for putting up the boards by challenging the law of universal gravitation! I made fun of Newton's law and have paid off!

Friday, August 8, 2008

Cereal Low Glycemic Breakfast

sad story of a woman who is more mother and is no longer the wife

Yesterday I met a lady whose story moved me.
She, unfortunately, he buried his son, who died due to a rare disease, and five months after her son's death she found herself a widow since her husband died of grief.
's son, during his illness, he should take a daily medication expensive (€ 350.00 for each day) that could not afford. The Turkish, former minister of health, despite this woman and mother is facing her ministry over and over again by fax and registered, did not lift a finger.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Is Jam Bad For Chloresterol

To Russia with love



The one in the picture is Charles Aznavour, a famous French singer of Armenian descent (real surname is Aznavourian). When I feel a little down in the dumps his play "Les deux guitares", a song whose chorus is in Russian. As my friends-list is composed mostly from Russia (why attract your attention? Why my user-name is a number?) I decided to dedicate to you this beautiful song.
I hope you can teach me a bit ' Di Russo, he minimo per capire ciò che indispensabile scrivete. Two gypsies



scratch their relentless guitar
reviving the bottom of all my nights
memory
Without that runs in me A flood of distress

Font reborn under their fingers
My misspent youth

Aigh tsunami, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo
Aigh tsunami tidal, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo tidal

Play Gypsy Play for me
With over flame
To drown
Who told my soul
Where did you wrong Why did
you hurt?
You got a headache
Drink a little less today
You will drink more tomorrow
And even more after tomorrow

Aigh tsunami, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo
Aigh tsunami tidal, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo tidal

I want to laugh, want to sing And drunk

my pain To forget the past with me I carry

Go pour the wine very
Because wine delivers
Pour pour me some more so that I get drunk


Aigh tsunami, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo
Aigh tsunami tidal, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo tidal

Two guitars in my thoughts Throw a huge disorder

explaining the futility of our existence

What do we live?
Why do we live?
What is the rationale? You're alive today

You'll be dead tomorrow
And even more after tomorrow

Aigh tsunami, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo
Aigh tsunami tidal, tidal ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo tidal

When I am dead drunk
weak and pathetic
And you see my body
Roll under the table so you can stop

Your songs that resonate
But until I play
Play directs

Aigh tidal, ischô raz
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo
Aigh raz raz, raz ischô
Ischô mnôguo mnôguo raz

TRANSLATION:

Two gypsies
relentlessly scratching their guitars
reviving from the bottom of all my nights
memory
Without knowing that flows in A lot of anguish me

fan reborn under my fingers
The mad youth

once, an 'yet another
and over and over again
once, an' yet another
and over and over again

Gypsies play, play for me play with more passion


much to cover the voice that says to my soul:
Where did you hurt?
Why did you hurt?
You have a headache!
drink a little 'less today
drink more and more the day after tomorrow


once, an' yet another
and over and over again
once, an 'yet another
and over and over again

I want to laugh and get drunk and sing my pain

to forget the past that

drag me forward, versatemi
because of strong wine, the wine still free
versatemene
that can inebriate

once an 'other and still
over and over again
once, an 'yet another
and over and over again

Two guitars throw in my thoughts a
a 'great concern
suggesting the futility of our existence

What do we live?
Why do we live?
What is the raison d'etre?
are alive today will be dead tomorrow

And even more tomorrow

once an 'other again and again and again

once again, an' yet another
and over and over again when I am drunk-


dead weak and deplorable
and see my body on the table roll

then you stop playing Your songs

but meanwhile
played played, I order

once an 'other again and again and again

once again, an' yet another
and over and over again

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Medical Professionals Who Can Help Alzheimer's

Today redid



When I was little my mother used to sing nursery rhymes like this:

À l'enterrement de ma grand-mère j'étais devant j'étais derrière, j'étais derrière
j'étais devant, j'étais tout seul à l'enterrement.

Unfortunately, even in translation, does not do justice to 'the original humor:

At the funeral of my grandmother (great mother) I was before I was behind (as you can be in two places opposite one another?)
I was behind I was in front (the shape is reversed, but the content is that of the previous sentence), I was alone at the funeral (this explains its ubiquity: it was front and behind was because he was the only one).

Monday, August 4, 2008

Healing Stage Ringworm

The photos that I stole it from Karen.



From left vs. right: Karen, Julia, Anna and Sandra (I emphasize).




From left vs. right: Suhail (sponge), Hasan (aka Tyson), I.



A close up on a background of Genoa Roman (Mapi and Anna)

Friday, August 1, 2008

Can Waxing Transmit Herpes

PS (Sciver else I feel like)

25/07/2008, Rabat. They are the
23:39 in Rabat, the 0:39 to La Spezia. Why take as a reference La Spezia? Why is the only reference I have on this machine, borrowed from Mapi 2 days ago. It's funny to write on a QWERTY keyboard, here in Morocco because the arrangement of letters on the keys is different from Italian (Azer). This is a magic moment: it's Friday (holy day for Muslims) in Morocco, while in Italy on Saturday (the Jewish holy day). In thinking about this I realize that the time, or rather, his statement is actually an invention of man. Perhaps the Creator, whose day lasts 50,000 years (so I said Suhail), the succession of days seems to be the rapid change of color of a cuttlefish.
I believe that the Arabs do not know what it means to be punctual. If Alae says, "tomorrow at 10:00 we left for the beach," one must understand: "At 13:00 on the day after tomorrow, inshallah, we meet, we go to eat and, inshallah, we lose a little 'time to talk about torture Allah has for those who are not in Serbian ablutions before approaching the Koran, auks, Inshallah, at 18:00, we go to sea. "
The Charlie Parker Jazz accompanies my room type, while the Maarifa Bayt (house of knowledge), which reside at the hostel in the evening proceeds as usual. As usual ... I can say as usual? What do I know the routine of Bayt al Maarifa? I am here only on July 7. The routine is something that sets the man does not reside in places, dwells in our hearts. Bayt al Maarifa is not a building, is the set of people who live there and that is why I am talking about routine. Routine is in the eye of the observer: things did not proceed in the same way, I have to look at it as such.
aggregation are three points up at 00:15: the entrance, the study room and lounge with TV. At 00:15 of the Bayt al Maarifa closed doors, so smokers who are forced to enter the entrance chatting. The three alternatives are, once rendered inaccessible at the point of aggregation: either you go to sleep, or studying, or going to bother those who try to watch TV.
Another important place (at least for me that I write) is "the garden of women." There are cats and grass, trees and Korean, if they are not jumping rope, squeak. I, as a man, I can not get into the garden of women. It is a kind of paradise, a popular destination because it denied a place that my eyes can see without my feet can walk. If there is one thing that we do not understand, in addition to punctuality, is that banning something means to feed the desire. The psychological mechanism is simple: the more something is forbidden and so much more willing to break even just curious, is violent. God knew (of course, it is he who made us), so he told protoplasts: "Dear pieces of mud, you get what you want, except for that fruit."
My favorite pastime is to drink Souhail. I feel very funny to hear a Muslim before the first beer is justified to ask: "You know, you do not drink for a month. Now I feel I can do, is something I want, then, from 24/07, 40 days before Ramadan, I can no longer drink (25, I have requested one). "
"time flies ...." With this very simple and very eloquent speech, among other bullshit, I Giusy had to rethink sermons that avucà me on Friday evening. Shit, maybe it's true: there is no hope for us, we are just poor bastards (remember to pay the royalties to Anna). We have a limited time by barriers and the physiological and mental. The time of a hard life as a 'footprint imprinted on the shoreline that draws in the surf itself. Here is the right word to describe it: Epicurean. Although at first glance may seem like a shallow person, is actually a sensitive person.
As for me, I find that my "mourning" is not yet finished. I have a scar on his hand and shoulder. When I got these two wounds, I felt a pain, while leaving an indelible mark, within a month would pass. How can something intangible to so bad? Every time I look at your photos and I think (now I did): "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...." Yeah, I do not think anything, I just looked at me, then look away when I try to see (the wise, as they say Anglophones, is one who sees). I try to see things clearly, repeating things that logic can not understand a deaf heart.
Actually what I feel is not really pain, is boredom more than anything else that makes me apathetic. With you I made a leap ten years into the future. All the time I've taken since I have left is like an empty glass to make (thanks Baglioni). I feel old, too old to be surrounded by people like smiling.

Alpignano, 01/08/2008.
Here is what I carry around, the only souvenir (a term more appropriate than ever, since in Arabic the word "man" is connected to the root of "forgetting"), the Sura al Ichlas (112):
Bismillahi Ar-Rahman Ar -Rahim.
QUL Hua Allahu Ahad. Allahu Samad. Lam Wa Lam Yalid Yulad. Lam Wa Lahu Yakunu Qufuan Ahad.