18. This morning Jukin did not rise.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
When I Eat Certain Food My Scalp Is Irritated
17. This morning Jukin became rich.
He got up early, which was already a good thing. And soon, the desire to write his autobiography came the tease. The first time he had before going to bed. Now he got up, motivated by the idea of sharing her life. However, the effort required to fill a big book discouraged. He needed the return of the public in the early chapters. That's when the first lightning struck his destiny. In a flash, Jukin realized he had to publish his autobiography blog. Still in shorts, he came out and plugged in his computer but functionally obsolete. He still paid Internet subscription!
Soon he published the first article of his life. He was enthusiastic and refreshed the page every minute to see if there were comments. An hour later he would leave when he first discovered: "I arive by Hazar, ms c too bad your thing. lol :-). Depression buried him immediately. He took a bunch of blankets and climbed the stairs to the attic. Above, he wrapped himself in a ball and let slide down. At the bottom of the stairs, he bounces against a small dresser fell over. He left a good 20 minutes in disposing of his refuge cotton and pain.
Half suffocated, he came out and discovered the contents of the drawers spilled onto the ground. He immediately fixed his eyes on a long bright red box. It contained a pencil that had been impregnated his brain. It was no longer the sole possessor of his inner thoughts. Jukin had deliberately trapped there because he was afraid he could write with. Then came the second flash: he would write a blog with a pencil. As a way to exorcise her fear by taking revenge on the poor reception of his blog. It was painful then retype everything, but he felt that extra stuff and just integrate its particular narrative.
He also took advantage of the pencil to add artwork that is scanned, then this new article published. After a pause he munched a pear, it refreshes its reflex Page: 120 comments. He thought immediately of a mistake. He checked several times, there was no error. And this time, no mockery, the comments were enthusiastic. Under the incentive value, he wrote a second book with a second drawing and published them. The reaction was immediate, it passed the 2000 comments. In the aftermath he accepted a contract as t-shirts are edited. It affected only a euro per copy sold, but was very proud. We then rang at his door. Working as a wholesaler computer fan offered him a high-tech equipment brand new. To which a graphics recognition character, allowing him to use his pencil without retyping the text or scan the drawing. The driver identified him and asked him for an autograph in babbling.
Once rid of formalities, Jukin closed the door, all happy. He published his third article. Immediately, his bell reasonable. He opened it to find a television crew who told him he had become the richest inhabitant of the city. 2.3 million T-shirts had already been sold! They wanted to do a story on him. Surprised at the number of attendees for this, he explained the success of his blog and the "buzz. All the writing was moved, the guard at the Producer, to meet the phenomenon. During that installation and that the make-up, he saw the hundred people who strolled home. They began to dig, some were taking pictures of objects with him.
When the interview began, would have been in a cathedral silence of thousands of eyes flickered to Jukin. He began to explain how things happened. The crowd reacts positively when he brought up the discovery of his first comment. They booed by heart the internet anonymously and began to come alive. They applauded his downfall the stairs and cried when he told his first release due in pencil. They jumped frantically to wear their t-shirts as he spoke of the contract. They were warm and gesticulating everywhere. The elbow of a man shoved a table against the wall. The frame and the glass broke ground. Nobody paid any attention and they trampled the glass, their feet bleeding. Jukin had seen everything but could not say anything. The interview then ended. 3 beautiful girls, two brunettes and a blonde headed toward him amid the general crowd. Improvising a party at his house.
Girls complimented by approaching more and more. He felt their perfumes fresh and exciting. The first was the blonde to kneel. She unbuttoned his pants when the other two knelt in turn. Jukin recoiled. They threw themselves on her lower belly, tongue out. It was rejected, and rejected them again suddenly recoiled. His back hit his Viming. Pottery extremely dear to her heart slipped from its mount and exploded on the ground. Jukin yelled suddenly. On tearing vocal froze everyone. The 2nd howl, clearly directed towards the crowd, dissuaded even the most enthusiastic to stay. In an instant he found himself alone in front of the remains of the table, and monitor its Viming forgotten by the team. The show
freshly ironed registered there. He discovered in the screen, the greedy eyes of the 3 girls behind him. Its cathodic him he seemed so trivial that he felt relief suddenly. He mentally relives his hole in the ground. He was so full of prospects colored, translucent geometric shapes that he alone understood. The monitor that was flashing before him now spreading the snow was so empty in comparison. This
life he had not chosen. It was imposed by others. So it did not suit him, he does not please them. He took his pencil carefully slipped into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled on a cap. He got out and walked in the city, avoiding the possible fans who recognized him. Finally, he found what he wanted: a serious man with 3 piece suit, closed face, hair and chin ambitious. Then he offered this life, through the pen, the man who dreamed less fortunate. He advised him to move to get a box of latex gloves. After a happy, Jukin returned to his life, one that did not make waves, those that did not notice, that for which he died.
Half suffocated, he came out and discovered the contents of the drawers spilled onto the ground. He immediately fixed his eyes on a long bright red box. It contained a pencil that had been impregnated his brain. It was no longer the sole possessor of his inner thoughts. Jukin had deliberately trapped there because he was afraid he could write with. Then came the second flash: he would write a blog with a pencil. As a way to exorcise her fear by taking revenge on the poor reception of his blog. It was painful then retype everything, but he felt that extra stuff and just integrate its particular narrative.
He also took advantage of the pencil to add artwork that is scanned, then this new article published. After a pause he munched a pear, it refreshes its reflex Page: 120 comments. He thought immediately of a mistake. He checked several times, there was no error. And this time, no mockery, the comments were enthusiastic. Under the incentive value, he wrote a second book with a second drawing and published them. The reaction was immediate, it passed the 2000 comments. In the aftermath he accepted a contract as t-shirts are edited. It affected only a euro per copy sold, but was very proud. We then rang at his door. Working as a wholesaler computer fan offered him a high-tech equipment brand new. To which a graphics recognition character, allowing him to use his pencil without retyping the text or scan the drawing. The driver identified him and asked him for an autograph in babbling.
Once rid of formalities, Jukin closed the door, all happy. He published his third article. Immediately, his bell reasonable. He opened it to find a television crew who told him he had become the richest inhabitant of the city. 2.3 million T-shirts had already been sold! They wanted to do a story on him. Surprised at the number of attendees for this, he explained the success of his blog and the "buzz. All the writing was moved, the guard at the Producer, to meet the phenomenon. During that installation and that the make-up, he saw the hundred people who strolled home. They began to dig, some were taking pictures of objects with him.
When the interview began, would have been in a cathedral silence of thousands of eyes flickered to Jukin. He began to explain how things happened. The crowd reacts positively when he brought up the discovery of his first comment. They booed by heart the internet anonymously and began to come alive. They applauded his downfall the stairs and cried when he told his first release due in pencil. They jumped frantically to wear their t-shirts as he spoke of the contract. They were warm and gesticulating everywhere. The elbow of a man shoved a table against the wall. The frame and the glass broke ground. Nobody paid any attention and they trampled the glass, their feet bleeding. Jukin had seen everything but could not say anything. The interview then ended. 3 beautiful girls, two brunettes and a blonde headed toward him amid the general crowd. Improvising a party at his house.
Girls complimented by approaching more and more. He felt their perfumes fresh and exciting. The first was the blonde to kneel. She unbuttoned his pants when the other two knelt in turn. Jukin recoiled. They threw themselves on her lower belly, tongue out. It was rejected, and rejected them again suddenly recoiled. His back hit his Viming. Pottery extremely dear to her heart slipped from its mount and exploded on the ground. Jukin yelled suddenly. On tearing vocal froze everyone. The 2nd howl, clearly directed towards the crowd, dissuaded even the most enthusiastic to stay. In an instant he found himself alone in front of the remains of the table, and monitor its Viming forgotten by the team. The show
freshly ironed registered there. He discovered in the screen, the greedy eyes of the 3 girls behind him. Its cathodic him he seemed so trivial that he felt relief suddenly. He mentally relives his hole in the ground. He was so full of prospects colored, translucent geometric shapes that he alone understood. The monitor that was flashing before him now spreading the snow was so empty in comparison. This
life he had not chosen. It was imposed by others. So it did not suit him, he does not please them. He took his pencil carefully slipped into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled on a cap. He got out and walked in the city, avoiding the possible fans who recognized him. Finally, he found what he wanted: a serious man with 3 piece suit, closed face, hair and chin ambitious. Then he offered this life, through the pen, the man who dreamed less fortunate. He advised him to move to get a box of latex gloves. After a happy, Jukin returned to his life, one that did not make waves, those that did not notice, that for which he died.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
What Size Of Trowel Need For 4x4 Tiles
16. This morning Jukin hoarse for nothing.
He howls at the window of his residence that he makes his pencil. That the person who did this has stolen some of his life. This pencil was indeed impregnated his brain after spending a day in his ear. It put him even more furious that everyone seemed to ignore it, seemed to mock them. As they saw his life unimportant. And suddenly, a huge swarm of doubt crossed. His eyes widened, his house becomes gigantic. Were they right? His life was it a hole in the ground? Jukin immediately joined the nearest forest with a shovel on his shoulder. At the park, he stopped in front of a poster. It represented a cast iron flower pot which exceeded two mini legs stiletto heel. He was flabbergasted. This image was to him the exact day of a condensed abstract of his past. As it had been someone to summarize mind a full day. And especially as he had found a way to capture the essence emotional, that in itself kept in his memory. Someone used his pen!
To relax, he whipped out his shovel and pulled on a clod of earth in a hurry. The grass moaning and disfigured. His reaction was a little heartbreaking to actually calmed down when he saw the hole. Was this life? It was hard to believe. This dark featureless him shudder. He continued along the road that borders the forest. From time to time, he cast a glance through the trees on the right. A small car, the windows wide open, the radio background, beyond him. A radio spot advertising the whispered in passing: "This morning, the urge to come up? The epoxy is there balm to free you from your bacteria ... "He stopped in shock. Another of his personal memories had become an advertisement. These people really did not scruple to succeed in selling their crap. They were not even the effort to widen the head, they stole ideas outright.
The largest advertising agency had its headquarters across the forest in fact, he left in a hurry. Arriving near the building, he knelt down and walked along under the windows. He cast a quick glance at the offices to find an employee who wrote with a pencil. The latter seemed surprised at what he wrote. Jukin is concluded that this was his pencil. He also wondered why the man was wearing latex gloves. A mark of respect was moved from people too shabby. But perhaps the fear of an object whose creative substance certainly seemed inhuman. They were unable to realize that their general attitude toward life they closed the doors of creativity and that from the pencil was just normal for an individual with a minimum of openness.
Jukin wasted no time. He threw an explosion over the building. The shock wave was vibrating all the windows of the opposite wall. The employee got mad and joined his colleagues in the hallway. Jukin straightened up and slid the window. He crept softly and checked what was going on in the hallway. The crowd was so great that nobody paid any attention to him. Then he turned to the desktop. His pen was sitting there, casually. It seemed trivial! He grabs it and understood immediately the use of gloves. All along was still fat and creamy his ear wax. He took a glove box, slipped, replaced a pencil on the desk and the same made off by closing the window with her tight little treasure in his palm.
Returning home, he returned to his hole in the ground. He believed there to see this time of distorted perspectives disappear into obscurity. But he did not have time to stop, he was too excited.
In his stay, he gently placed the pencil on the table, engulfed by the same movement in his bathroom, took off the gloves and washed his hands meticulously. Once dry, he carefully drew a blank sheet of the closet and placed it next to the pencil. He sat down opposite. He was fascinated, but it frightened her. He knew beforehand that he would be afraid of the result may be that he would find himself in the presence of his future. The curiosity and excitement drove him to try anyway. He knew then he would lock the double pencil round because he was a coward. But he could not help but grasp it, deliberately this time to enjoy the contact with her and let the wax pencil to form a short sentence: This morning Jukin broke a hunter.
To relax, he whipped out his shovel and pulled on a clod of earth in a hurry. The grass moaning and disfigured. His reaction was a little heartbreaking to actually calmed down when he saw the hole. Was this life? It was hard to believe. This dark featureless him shudder. He continued along the road that borders the forest. From time to time, he cast a glance through the trees on the right. A small car, the windows wide open, the radio background, beyond him. A radio spot advertising the whispered in passing: "This morning, the urge to come up? The epoxy is there balm to free you from your bacteria ... "He stopped in shock. Another of his personal memories had become an advertisement. These people really did not scruple to succeed in selling their crap. They were not even the effort to widen the head, they stole ideas outright.
The largest advertising agency had its headquarters across the forest in fact, he left in a hurry. Arriving near the building, he knelt down and walked along under the windows. He cast a quick glance at the offices to find an employee who wrote with a pencil. The latter seemed surprised at what he wrote. Jukin is concluded that this was his pencil. He also wondered why the man was wearing latex gloves. A mark of respect was moved from people too shabby. But perhaps the fear of an object whose creative substance certainly seemed inhuman. They were unable to realize that their general attitude toward life they closed the doors of creativity and that from the pencil was just normal for an individual with a minimum of openness.
Jukin wasted no time. He threw an explosion over the building. The shock wave was vibrating all the windows of the opposite wall. The employee got mad and joined his colleagues in the hallway. Jukin straightened up and slid the window. He crept softly and checked what was going on in the hallway. The crowd was so great that nobody paid any attention to him. Then he turned to the desktop. His pen was sitting there, casually. It seemed trivial! He grabs it and understood immediately the use of gloves. All along was still fat and creamy his ear wax. He took a glove box, slipped, replaced a pencil on the desk and the same made off by closing the window with her tight little treasure in his palm.
Returning home, he returned to his hole in the ground. He believed there to see this time of distorted perspectives disappear into obscurity. But he did not have time to stop, he was too excited.
In his stay, he gently placed the pencil on the table, engulfed by the same movement in his bathroom, took off the gloves and washed his hands meticulously. Once dry, he carefully drew a blank sheet of the closet and placed it next to the pencil. He sat down opposite. He was fascinated, but it frightened her. He knew beforehand that he would be afraid of the result may be that he would find himself in the presence of his future. The curiosity and excitement drove him to try anyway. He knew then he would lock the double pencil round because he was a coward. But he could not help but grasp it, deliberately this time to enjoy the contact with her and let the wax pencil to form a short sentence: This morning Jukin broke a hunter.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Best Conditioning Mascara 2010
15. This morning, Jukin has a headache.
It took him like that, you wake up. Yet he had a fleeting impression of having sweet dreams tonight and soothing. He felt not even a bad mood, despite the pain. So it was not a misfortune that caused her psychological disorder. Something, somewhere in his body, was wrong. He sat cross-legged, slow breath and closed his eyes. As it rolls up a pant leg, his mind had turned up in himself. Methodically Jukin traveled throughout his body. He communicated with him intimately. He met his organs one by one, then his bones, his nerves ...
The trance ended a few hours later. Unsatisfactory, the responses were positive. No internal malfunction. He unfolded it, placed it on her bedside table the notebook of notes which had remained on his bed. Indeed, at bedtime, he wanted to write his autobiography. This was a failure, but he quickly found sleep.
An enema may be detailed could solve the problem he said suddenly. He does not procrastinate much longer. Shortly after arriving at the institute, was installed here in a washing machine. He did not know what to expect, we do it had given no instructions. As suddenly as a flash he was immersed in water. And the next moment everything was aspirated. He blinked water. The cycles were so fast and powerful, they allowed him the impression of being fully inflated by the liquid. As this spacing in the least his body was invaded; of his lungs, inside her eyes. Disheveled and after passing through a storm, he was already redeposited on the sidewalk, her headache pain a notch.
Surely stupefied by suffering, he rushed at the corner of the hypnotist. Jukin kept his gaze fixed on the window to his right, because the man sitting behind his desk was too ugly and smelly. This discomfort did worse. The man had huge hands, even the corner of my eye, Jukin noticed. He let them pass along his body, like a scanner organic. The hypnotist was emitting a buzzing simultaneously, it was totally ridiculous. But he decided not to interrupt. With conviction in his voice, between two buzz, he asserted that evil flowed. Jukin laughed a lot, even after paying the sum claimed indecent. So that the suffering was slightly attenuated. For a split second, he wandered to the naivete and wondered if it can be had not worked. Of course, the euphoria has passed, the pain twisted his temples again.
Jukin came home upset. Past the living room window, he saw a pencil. A pencil in the air. He stopped and looked at her reflection in more detail: he had a pencil in his ear. Pressed almost to the gum! He retired once, gently. The pain gradually decreased as the mine went out. Finally relieved, anxiety got into him when he realized the length of a pencil that had spent the day in his brain. He thought for a moment in using it, it might be unconscious write his or her hidden thoughts, or ideas for future. Not feeling well anyway, he put the pencil on the rim of the round window. He went to bed, although it is still profoundly day. He fell asleep immediately. On the bedside table, sat still blank book of his autobiography. But nowhere enough to write it.
The trance ended a few hours later. Unsatisfactory, the responses were positive. No internal malfunction. He unfolded it, placed it on her bedside table the notebook of notes which had remained on his bed. Indeed, at bedtime, he wanted to write his autobiography. This was a failure, but he quickly found sleep.
An enema may be detailed could solve the problem he said suddenly. He does not procrastinate much longer. Shortly after arriving at the institute, was installed here in a washing machine. He did not know what to expect, we do it had given no instructions. As suddenly as a flash he was immersed in water. And the next moment everything was aspirated. He blinked water. The cycles were so fast and powerful, they allowed him the impression of being fully inflated by the liquid. As this spacing in the least his body was invaded; of his lungs, inside her eyes. Disheveled and after passing through a storm, he was already redeposited on the sidewalk, her headache pain a notch.
Surely stupefied by suffering, he rushed at the corner of the hypnotist. Jukin kept his gaze fixed on the window to his right, because the man sitting behind his desk was too ugly and smelly. This discomfort did worse. The man had huge hands, even the corner of my eye, Jukin noticed. He let them pass along his body, like a scanner organic. The hypnotist was emitting a buzzing simultaneously, it was totally ridiculous. But he decided not to interrupt. With conviction in his voice, between two buzz, he asserted that evil flowed. Jukin laughed a lot, even after paying the sum claimed indecent. So that the suffering was slightly attenuated. For a split second, he wandered to the naivete and wondered if it can be had not worked. Of course, the euphoria has passed, the pain twisted his temples again.
Jukin came home upset. Past the living room window, he saw a pencil. A pencil in the air. He stopped and looked at her reflection in more detail: he had a pencil in his ear. Pressed almost to the gum! He retired once, gently. The pain gradually decreased as the mine went out. Finally relieved, anxiety got into him when he realized the length of a pencil that had spent the day in his brain. He thought for a moment in using it, it might be unconscious write his or her hidden thoughts, or ideas for future. Not feeling well anyway, he put the pencil on the rim of the round window. He went to bed, although it is still profoundly day. He fell asleep immediately. On the bedside table, sat still blank book of his autobiography. But nowhere enough to write it.
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