Tales of stupid projects that are more or less
While I still have a act of coffee from the port to write (coffee will be longer, thank you Gregory put me jokes so stupid in the head, now I can publish them blaming you), 20 good minutes of choreography Schubertian to spawn, and some systems top-secret military information to validate, I inexplicably chosen to concoct a clever medley of the worst of my mind.
As I have already complained in November, because of the time shit, I'll try to adopt a more positive tuna this time (the release of "Ocean" made me want to adopt a tuna). What in effect in more pleasing than a fish optimistic and smiling to cheer you up every night when we returned from a long day of work simulated. Except that as I still have no bath, I keep my tuna Léverest in my shower all day, which is not really green in terms of consumption of drinking fluids without alcohol.
back to our soft tuna. With Léverest, I keep my head above water, despite the fact that January is often as vicious as November. These months are in cahoots ugly (we freeze the loaves, they eat the salad, you would blow up his sleeve).
First, January ruthlessly put an end to Christmas. No form of pity or compassion. It's over, finished. For you to imagine the havoc that the sound of this bell may cause in my heart pure and sparkling, imagine Snow White, driven from Disneyland, walking through an industrial area of Seine-Saint-Denis, giving, haggard, shots feet in cans and used syringes, compromising its abandonment in the velvet of his ballerinas black dork in red. As I promised to remain broadly positive, saying she quickly found a mac rather sloppy which provides scheduled taf nice, and a chirp-free rats or cockroaches. And it's awfully better than undergo the nightly onslaught of 7 Dwarfs cavers.
Moreover, in the series in January is an idiot but there is still hers, an epiphany January we stick to console us for the end of Christmas. Certainly, the consolation is thin, since the tree is no epiphany. But we draw the kings, and in the slab of modern jazz that a girl had graciously given us (trotting on his spikes in the 60s Mini Dress is graceful, right?) I found the bean! So I could dance all the following course in mini shorts with a tiara and a sash "Miss epiphany 2010 flex-time". Then I made a speech like what I was BTS tourism and I wanted peace in all the scenes of the world, but like all the good times it went way too fast, and I fell into my routine as a dancer in mini shorts with a tiara.
Also you should know that the epiphany in a dance school is nothing but a vast hoax. As everyone knows, the dancer eats an apple in November for the winter. So when someone brandishes a cake in a radius of 10 km, it stops the nose not to grow because of the smell of calories, and begins to run around the room in case sugary foods emit waves magnifying (To date, nobody has proved the opposite after all). Then, even when we cut the cake, it plays like everybody out "and-it-is-for-quiiiii? "And then skinning each share with the little finger in the air to determine if there is reason to coronation. And throw all the shares in a large skinned incinerator food to be sure that girls will not come to the dustbin of the dance hall at night. And they dance around the blouse of the incinerator, but it's part of any well structured dance class.
So me my right to eat. But I'd better abstain, report the fact that I do not want to tease the wrath of a hungry corps de ballet, which would cut down on me ... like smallpox on the lower clergy, it is something heard. Especially since this year my friends, the girls must carry me in splits over their head. And even if I do not have procreation in my immediate plans, this position exposes dangerously tanks of my genetic heritage bellicose intentions of these graceful Amazons. Having already suffered my own accord a total removal of the Viking, it would not affect my sex life completely, it would make me cranky.
In the series of real good news, so good that we skip around the room screaming until he bumps into the tibia in the sharp corner of the table and let slip his hatred of humanity in a powerful string of insults, in January, sales! So of course I bought half the stock of the body shop, then I bought 5 Ikea bookshelves to store my stock body shop. I wasabi mask for the next 60 years, which is strangely comforting, because in case of nuclear war, I'll have a good skin detoxified in the bunker. I gave some to my family too, for the sake of preserving the visual aesthetics of my surroundings, of course.
Another thing that was sold off in January, damn, that's my little person. Thus, on January 8 for only 18 euros, a large crowd was able to see me shirtless, sweating and panting, in a sticky white transparent polemic, jumping on a sublime music by Gounod, surrounded by sparkling as Sylphs also undressed. Rate which of course ended with the disappearance of environmental bonus. And I'm not scrapping. No but.
Comically and delectable when headlamps were lit and dressed in light my anatomy tortured by hours of practice, revealing the subtle transparency of my white tights, my partner, in solidarity and no doubt by jealousy, brutally ripped the strap of her leotard, unsheathed proudly in the front rows have been able to see well. Proving in a suicidal terrorist act of feminism that she had burned her bra with the rest of her piece of cake. In short this whole campaign was a great success and everyone told me I was pretty good when I was 5 hours of sport per day without eating anything. Succeeded
this exhibition a weekend with my venerable and venerated as formidable and feared sister, who was obviously post-liver-detox-of-fat feasts. So again not drunk and not eaten, except the juice of carrot / turnip. I told you it was terrible. But to compensate, session layer cake, watching Golden Girls, and spa to compensate. For those unfamiliar with the concept of mille feuille (shame on you and your family), it has nothing to do with this dirty ice cream cake that makes crumbs everywhere. This is superimposed on its skin as many beauty products possible, until the skin is called saturated beauty. It's been awfully good. I advise you to consult the blog of Sonia for more information, guinea-bottle that you are deep within you, without knowing or without assuming
... And speaking of pretty girls who are nothing that moth, I urge you to go to gloat "Bliss", the film directed by and starring Drew Barrymore. In essence, this is the story of a girl (the one that was knocked up in "Juno" but is better apparently), her mother pushes to become Little Miss Sunshine. She, all knocked up in Juno she was she complies, until she realized that she preferred to mini-skirts, and go on wheels will be trouble with other girls in mini-skirt. And we are agreed. So we'll see his mother, and he kindly said, "Yeah, ma'am, do not be cécoin there, c'mon let's s'castagner on wheels anyway, she laid her lumps, it's legit now, she Roller may be trouble as she wants. " So she rolls, quick, she castagne, mini-skirt, with music that rips. And we were jubilant and just to be trouble though we laugh a bit anyway Because it feels good and because the teller of the Gaumont did not steal a little help castagne in the teeth.
To finish the series "My sister is a moth and then I say it's a delicate flower for me not to remove the shoulder", know what being pregnant a large family business of entertainment! To warm up, we'll lay you a coffee port will awaken your great aunt, where I'll write and dance, where Sandra will play the piano and being nice, and when Philip will make videos and prepare ThomThom royal. Alain will be private but before the performance, relative to that the last time he drank, we needed a scaffold to hold it up by directing the Christmas concert. So Alain, juice carrot / turnip. And another that will be quickly dubbed the Royal ThomThom is Maia, who will dance and choreograph for me with these fabulous evening of entertainment. But again, we'll be waiting for the show is past ... Would not brandish it to turn into a raging ...
worry, soon I pollute your facebook too practical information on performances of this show.
And promised soon I acquired a velodrome was added to the "coffee from port a whole act of castagne on wheels.
Oh, and as is still
January ... Happy New Year!