Do I Use Biotene For My Monroe Piercing?

in it for free drinking: rise to power

non so com'è che mi è venuto in mente comunque l'altro giorno sono andato a cercarmi un lavoro. mai più una roba del genere. che praticamente io avevo fatto la telefonata giusto per provare a fare qualche colloquio dimostrativo da dargli in pasto ai miei per fargli vedere che mi stavo almeno sbattendo, e questi qua mi convocano subito il giorno dopo e mi tocca saltare sul tram per davvero fino a un posto della periferia torinese che andrebbe raso al suolo e incriminato per istigazione al suicidio. sarà che il cielo è grigio, sarà che sono io che non c'ho voglia, ma a me mi sembra che qua ci sono solo dei gran cazzo di benzinai e concessionari e infatti mi sbatto in giro a cercare il numero e finisco in una stradina laterale among the weeds and used syringes, that combination goes on the back of a petrol station and door in the courtyard of a dealer. from the courtyard of the dealer go inside a shed so filthy dirty that should be sterilized with an arson attack and following the emissions of a subwoofer end up in a big room with a desk just inside Ikea and speakers that send the worst kind of tribal house. behind the desk there is this almost twenty year old wearing the shovel of eyeliner and pants tucked into boots. hoping that the practice of his trousers thrust into his boots will soon be violently repressed and punished with ten years in prison without parole to contemplate and think I'm almost sure of it having already seen it, probably while performing a blow job behind the toilet door of a famous local dance in Turin, but you can never say, considering the degree of approval frightening aesthetic that seems to afflict almost all of the emerging generations. I am made to accommodate into the office of another person with the fucking pants inside boots merdosissimi and I can not help but wonder what the fuck talk is a conversation in which is never questioned and are forced to listen to a petulant tirade dynamism and teamwork, I made myself a static and sociopathy my workhorse. the work that I do I did not understand a shit, but considering that I listened as she told me is the very least. Event organizers in the ad it said that combination is just my branch, so I say okay and cow bitch called me the next morning at eight thirty and fucking for a day of further selection included Puppi tiling with their employees. I go out while I was told to dress well and I decide to gloss over the fact that the pulpit preachers, and a 40-year old dressed like a Cubist on the decline. fly away with his head down because the most out of my concept of well-dressed for the interview I had performed and mentally going over my wardrobe I have to see that I'm fucked. clearly not enough, since I decided to make the situation worse by choosing to accompany me by my father around the outlet squalliderrimi that arise in the most lurid of this city and in the context of a gray day with the prospect of a wake at dawn and a shitty job on the horizon it must be said that a journey into the depths of 'cheap clothing is a close loop around the neck. Considering that I get dressed by myself since I have never worn anything but jeans were not, amphibians and T-shirts of the groups, and whereas my father when he married my mother's dress is made, the result Oedipus of this sad morning I almost cost the end of a long love relationship a decade, because when I performed my achievements, the first lady I saw really about to pack up in disgust. I just realized I did not, my problem was to give attention to those fucking committed facit of which must have amused behind us to crop a fancy dress because I in my stronzaggine I just groping in the dark to some vague aspiration concept of elegance and perhaps unconsciously guided by the gray that I hung in the soul fact is that when I got home I found myself dressed like

the most humiliating thing was undoubtedly the next morning at half past seven I was waiting for the bus door to the palace dressed as a country priest as I roamed around the North African children who were at school with all their beautiful hood of his sweatshirt pulled on a baseball cap, and I could not help but feel jealous of their estates by gangsta rapper, his eyes grew moist with tears me for the lost dignity. when I arrive I am made to sit on a plastic chair who will support my ass for an unreasonably long period of time. the usual twenty boots behind the desk continues to raise the volume of the tribal house in the hope of covering the motivational frightening screams coming from behind a closed door. In fact, after a few minutes to file away a few dozen highly motivated employees that support the well-dressed colored backpacks. I come from the chair and picked the one entrusted to me is presented as il miglior dipendente dell'azienda, che a giudicare dalla giacca che gli spunta da sotto il cappotto arrivando a lambirgli le ginocchia sembra essere anche l'unica persona nella stanza vestita peggio di me. intuisco che questo lavoro non mi renderà milionario quando vengo fatto accomodare sull'automobile aziendale, una tipo 1.6 coi sedili cosparsi di gratta e vinci accartocciati. partiamo lasciandoci alle spalle i confini della città, senza che io abbia ancora capito cosa cazzo ci sto facendo dentro una tipo arrugginita alle nove del mattino pinzato sul sedile di dietro in mezzo a quattro completi sconosciuti. avrei preferito continuare a non saperlo, invece mi viene rivelato che gli zainetti colorati sono stracolmi di telefoni cellulari e che io tra poco verrò introduced into the exciting world of selling door to door. then I'm like the model employee, but an excuse, and organizing events? sure, he says, perhaps next month they send us to distribute the gadget in roadside restaurants. very well. dismantle them in a town where there have never been before, I do offer breakfast and when we are ready to vanish from me pretending to be ill. dj enzo phone, he lives in the suburbs, and I try to explain me how the fuck you leave this place Alien immersed in a blanket of fog. I hold her in the coat but the air inside edge creeps me the light wool pants are frozen toes. I am alone, cold, inhospitable and in a strange city, hunted by four warring travelers Trade with the armed wing of a series of powerful business slogan. still no idea on how to walk away from this shit pond in which they are bogged down by a number of years.

atroC.TXZBtion

Do I Use Biotene For My Monroe Piercing?

in it for free drinking: rise to power

non so com'è che mi è venuto in mente comunque l'altro giorno sono andato a cercarmi un lavoro. mai più una roba del genere. che praticamente io avevo fatto la telefonata giusto per provare a fare qualche colloquio dimostrativo da dargli in pasto ai miei per fargli vedere che mi stavo almeno sbattendo, e questi qua mi convocano subito il giorno dopo e mi tocca saltare sul tram per davvero fino a un posto della periferia torinese che andrebbe raso al suolo e incriminato per istigazione al suicidio. sarà che il cielo è grigio, sarà che sono io che non c'ho voglia, ma a me mi sembra che qua ci sono solo dei gran cazzo di benzinai e concessionari e infatti mi sbatto in giro a cercare il numero e finisco in una stradina laterale among the weeds and used syringes, that combination goes on the back of a petrol station and door in the courtyard of a dealer. from the courtyard of the dealer go inside a shed so filthy dirty that should be sterilized with an arson attack and following the emissions of a subwoofer end up in a big room with a desk just inside Ikea and speakers that send the worst kind of tribal house. behind the desk there is this almost twenty year old wearing the shovel of eyeliner and pants tucked into boots. hoping that the practice of his trousers thrust into his boots will soon be violently repressed and punished with ten years in prison without parole to contemplate and think I'm almost sure of it having already seen it, probably while performing a blow job behind the toilet door of a famous local dance in Turin, but you can never say, considering the degree of approval frightening aesthetic that seems to afflict almost all of the emerging generations. I am made to accommodate into the office of another person with the fucking pants inside boots merdosissimi and I can not help but wonder what the fuck talk is a conversation in which is never questioned and are forced to listen to a petulant tirade dynamism and teamwork, I made myself a static and sociopathy my workhorse. the work that I do I did not understand a shit, but considering that I listened as she told me is the very least. Event organizers in the ad it said that combination is just my branch, so I say okay and cow bitch called me the next morning at eight thirty and fucking for a day of further selection included Puppi tiling with their employees. I go out while I was told to dress well and I decide to gloss over the fact that the pulpit preachers, and a 40-year old dressed like a Cubist on the decline. fly away with his head down because the most out of my concept of well-dressed for the interview I had performed and mentally going over my wardrobe I have to see that I'm fucked. clearly not enough, since I decided to make the situation worse by choosing to accompany me by my father around the outlet squalliderrimi that arise in the most lurid of this city and in the context of a gray day with the prospect of a wake at dawn and a shitty job on the horizon it must be said that a journey into the depths of 'cheap clothing is a close loop around the neck. Considering that I get dressed by myself since I have never worn anything but jeans were not, amphibians and T-shirts of the groups, and whereas my father when he married my mother's dress is made, the result Oedipus of this sad morning I almost cost the end of a long love relationship a decade, because when I performed my achievements, the first lady I saw really about to pack up in disgust. I just realized I did not, my problem was to give attention to those fucking committed facit of which must have amused behind us to crop a fancy dress because I in my stronzaggine I just groping in the dark to some vague aspiration concept of elegance and perhaps unconsciously guided by the gray that I hung in the soul fact is that when I got home I found myself dressed like

the most humiliating thing was undoubtedly the next morning at half past seven I was waiting for the bus door to the palace dressed as a country priest as I roamed around the North African children who were at school with all their beautiful hood of his sweatshirt pulled on a baseball cap, and I could not help but feel jealous of their estates by gangsta rapper, his eyes grew moist with tears me for the lost dignity. when I arrive I am made to sit on a plastic chair who will support my ass for an unreasonably long period of time. the usual twenty boots behind the desk continues to raise the volume of the tribal house in the hope of covering the motivational frightening screams coming from behind a closed door. In fact, after a few minutes to file away a few dozen highly motivated employees that support the well-dressed colored backpacks. I come from the chair and picked the one entrusted to me is presented as il miglior dipendente dell'azienda, che a giudicare dalla giacca che gli spunta da sotto il cappotto arrivando a lambirgli le ginocchia sembra essere anche l'unica persona nella stanza vestita peggio di me. intuisco che questo lavoro non mi renderà milionario quando vengo fatto accomodare sull'automobile aziendale, una tipo 1.6 coi sedili cosparsi di gratta e vinci accartocciati. partiamo lasciandoci alle spalle i confini della città, senza che io abbia ancora capito cosa cazzo ci sto facendo dentro una tipo arrugginita alle nove del mattino pinzato sul sedile di dietro in mezzo a quattro completi sconosciuti. avrei preferito continuare a non saperlo, invece mi viene rivelato che gli zainetti colorati sono stracolmi di telefoni cellulari e che io tra poco verrò introduced into the exciting world of selling door to door. then I'm like the model employee, but an excuse, and organizing events? sure, he says, perhaps next month they send us to distribute the gadget in roadside restaurants. very well. dismantle them in a town where there have never been before, I do offer breakfast and when we are ready to vanish from me pretending to be ill. dj enzo phone, he lives in the suburbs, and I try to explain me how the fuck you leave this place Alien immersed in a blanket of fog. I hold her in the coat but the air inside edge creeps me the light wool pants are frozen toes. I am alone, cold, inhospitable and in a strange city, hunted by four warring travelers Trade with the armed wing of a series of powerful business slogan. still no idea on how to walk away from this shit pond in which they are bogged down by a number of years.

atroC.TXZBtion

Make Up Brushes What Need To Know

lullaby for the working class vol.5: cronache di un lungo viaggio alla ricerca del fondo

Make Up Brushes What Need To Know

lullaby for the working class vol.5: cronache di un lungo viaggio alla ricerca del fondo