870 Mcs Avaible For Civilian Purchase

Zoophilia.
Today, I am seized by a virulent journalistic conscience (and a pretty spectacular too lazy). So I started to make a dizzying journey to the very sources of written composition. And my fabulous adventures in the land of CE2, I brought you some one of the founding principles of writing, which should guarantee this time an article clear, structured, and especially exciting. As I do not want to destabilize my readership by putting me in a quick one to write things flashed smart, I will progressively apply the famous golden rules of writing that I fished in my old notebook composition. First rule: choose a theme. I open my notebook to the first composition, "describe your room." No way, there may be minors among the readers, I can not speak for my room here. Second composition, " describe your favorite animal "... Bingo!
Damn but of course! Having played the kiwi, I'll gladly list all the characters in the animal kingdom that I love and explain why! I knew that this plunge in the primary school would increase the level of this blog ... Always go back to basics! And always turn off the blender before mixing carrots. Because after 3 or 4 times is a bit tedious to spend the evening licking his meal on the kitchen tiles.

Ok, let's go to my favorite animals. I will not put them necessarily in order of preference, but the first is my favorite so he absolutely must be the most preferred list of my favorite animals.

So for me the king of beasts, I give you in a thousand is not that lazy lion yellow sleeping in the shade of baobab trees. The king of beasts is the emu. It sits high on my Olympus, and even on a pedestal on the Olympus! But not for long because the emu squirms a lot, so it's a safe bet that before I finish writing this sentence, the emu will fall from the pedestal and down the slopes of Olympus, legs tangled around his neck. Maybe even sing he bawdy songs. The emu was plummeting music, and that's why we love him. We also love the emu guy for his looks, his eyes bright and delightful, and morphology sensual desire: a big feather pillow, with three pipes that come out, I like the concept. Imagine how your life would be nice if you'd like an emu, a third leg in the place you neck!
And then an emu, like all noble creatures of this world, derives its grandeur of his manner, he hoisted to the level of lifestyle. His credo: I swallow. I swallow the whole pineapple, I swallow the package of popcorn in the world with plastic, swallow the handbag with the little old lady who hangs (which is why it is not uncommon to hear a "you want my finger!" out of the belly of an emu when we cure the nose in a zoo). If Zola had his "I accuse" the emu has his "swallow". When I was young an emu had swallowed my right arm to the shoulder when I handed him a popcorn merrily. Hand in his stomach, I had recovered a watch, an umbrella (open) and an almost new bike seat and a spare tire for my tractor.
And then an emu is romantic (with a name like that, obviously), and is engaged in the spring of courtship that did not fail to inspire the candidates of "bachelor." As you've understood, the emu has the place of IQ well established in the rumen. The rest follows. The parade of the emu is a mad rush in the bush (or in your kitchen, but I do not recommend having an emu in apartment), characterized by sudden and random changes of direction (you know the link with the bachelor). Except that the head, casually perched on a 148-neck vertebrae, is hardly aware of the decisions taken in the brain of stomach bug. So she follows as she can, with a lot of late ... But it amuses as much (and it amuses you too, be a little rushed in the savannah by an emu, he confesses, rogue), emu shows a beaming, and enthusiasm, it flaps its wings frantically, so "i believe i can fly", which is not true at all. As an old Russian proverb says well-known ballet dancers, "swallow between tractor tires and fly with lightness, sometimes you choose. The emu has chosen, he swallows.

Now I must confess a report rather unhealthy with this wonderful animal which is the rabbit. As proof, my fascination for the movie "house bunny" ("Super Blonde" in French), and my playboy tattoo on his left buttock. I usually have little compassion for animals that have a potential mantle interesting. A chinchilla, for example, I can not approach it without a sleeve to me ... but not rabbits. And causes me not even stew. It must be said that the chinchilla is a kind of potato hairy (such as those who have spent six months in the bottom of my fridge) who spends his day sleeping in a sandbox. He looks so much more fulfilled on the back of a glamorous actress ... The bunny is cute. It hops awkwardly upon the polished floor of my living room, striving to travel 50 cm so it slides with its hairy paws ... And me it touched me while I filmed in his galley.
I have no more rabbits in my house. It's too hard emotionally to consider their demise. And then you have to hire professional mourners (often unionized), organize the funeral procession to the Pantheon, pay Mitterrand's speech ... In short I can not. My first rabbit was living with a roommate with a hamster that racket. The night he came to steal his seed. The rabbit was so stressed that he lost all his hair. It looked like a prawn. And I though I preach the hamster, nothing worked. My second rabbit I'm afraid he did not much like when I emptied a can of spray Baygon on a fly, forgetting completely that it was just off ... Anyway fate tells me clearly that I 'm not made for a rabbit.

Then I must say that I rather like raccoons.

Well, it it said.

And i like badgers as well. Here I have a story to tell you. The badger, an animal that is clumsy, good-natured and furious (I really had to do an article on badgers to write all those adjectives in a row), and wearing a jersey of the PSG and hiked in Jersey by wearing a bag Quechua, has against all odds of nocturnal habits that deserve describe. So
badgers at night, not sleeping. No, he does not snore either, although I'm sure he grumbles a lot. At night, he travels constantly and at full speed circuit in nature, which often reaches the radius several kilometers. It is not a badger for nothing. You see the side of Jersey ... And hiker in good conscientious hiker, badger never strays from the path marked by blue marks demarcated or, where applicable, its traces of urine (we do not do it too in Jersey or only one out of a pub). But then it does not deviate from 50cm. One day badger, badger ever.
And one day, my parents, who live in the wild backcountry of western Brittany, found a badger walked (and raging) every night their orchards. They quickly concluded that God had imposed the transition from a circuit Badger (though with a radius of several kilometers) stack on their orchard. No luck ... What?
My father, an engineer, and knows very well the badgers, which has nothing to do with the fact that he is enrolled in the neighborhood association but still a bit, had a bright idea. He laid a grid cell on the path of the badger in the garden entrance. Not a big fence, no, hardly wider than the width of a brush means. Well it did not miss. The next morning, no trace of badger in the orchard. However the fence was smashed with a hump-shaped skull badger. The badger had dark right in the fence, and the idea to bypass him not even touching the spirit, he turned back. So he took his card in his bag IGN Quechua, and he went further hike in the orchard neighbors no doubt. Since I love badgers. Like the stubborn creatures.



I must also confess a penchant for weasels.
When I was little, my grandparents had a chicken coop. And they kept telling stories of weasels, each more terrifying one than others. "The weasel still has 3 chickens slaughtered," "The weasel has twisted his neck a goose," the weasel has decimated a flock of sheep "," weasel ate my best cow and deposited the carcass in my bed "... So the weasel was a mythical creature and terrifying, we never saw, malignant as the last son of a peasant, who makes sweet shots (one who is not brave, but is Malignant anyway). And so she could spend transformable into all the interstices of your house. Limit in a pinhole she passed (which terrified my grandmother was intended seamstress).
So when I was bigger - I think it was in March 2008 that I grew up - fearless young man I became, I investigated the weasels and I went to park the woods to try to see one. Well I was not disappointed. Between a few carcasses of children (it might be dead branches), a huge weasel (or maybe it measured about eight inches), prowling threatening casting spells to passersby (or maybe she was playing with her little perky ). And then I was still disappointed she n'égorgeait not really eat cows but rather slugs in general. Which in itself is admirable I grant you.
But no matter, the value of things is in the eyes of others, and a slug-eating creature that manages to terrify people (also Jurassic and peasant it may be) has all my esteem and admiration.

I really like the muskrat in principle, because it is pushy. It's still just a rat vulgar, and sometimes to finish in a nice coat ... Another fine example of stubbornness. For a rat, it's still more glorious to die in a fur coat in a bin ... It is true we all do.

The snow owl is also my favor. It is a very lazy animal that has developed an extraordinary flexibility of the neck just to avoid having to move the rest of his body. We at the zoo he was throwing stuff to make it move, but nothing helped. One suspects that even a few people at the zoo had stuck to a branch to not let her leave. It is also the only bird who wears moon boots.

I think it would be fair enough that I also mentioned the Coati in this column. For those who do not know is a kind of big-haired hamster very rough, with a pig nose. And this beautiful creature to grace sylph (tamped the sylph, but it happens) is extremely fond of popcorn. As a big potential for interaction with Coati moron who goes into a trance when he smells a pop corn to 200 m. And then there they threw themselves into the mud, make pyramids to reach the popcorn that they tended, building small helicopters with leaves to escape from their cage (do not worry, it never works, but c is cool to see them try) and block the airspace causing volcanic eruptions in Iceland. Very entertaining.

Finally, a few words about the animals that I do not like but then not at all: aplaventrés animals, too smart or too loyal like dogs "intelligent". German Shepherds in mind, especially those with long hair on the legs, and trot all day with his tongue dangling. Yerkes! I do not like the so called dangerous animals, but actually do nothing of the day ... Never did a lion stung me my popcorn at the zoo. An emu or a coati is very common. Next time I will ask the carcass of an antelope at the zoo entrance instead of popcorn. And a wheelbarrow to lug around. A
unless I rented a living antelope, and I have split the wind savannah on his back, hair flying, shirt open, Meryl Streep hipped, pursued by a lion or an emu in turmoil ...

Leclerc Mobile Phones

You know me, I'm not one to publish articles incomprehensible, frivolous, or referring to facts not true ... not my idea to also submit written vaguely nebulous formalism purely selfish and elitist. You know, my blog is an example of journalistic access. And like any self-respecting blogger, I dealt only with issues that affect my daily readership (far be it from me to make you waste time), such as hair removal kiwis, for brawls in roller and mini skirt, shorts or Star Wars. So I will once again occur under your very eyes, and without unreasonable increase in ticket prices, a new masterpiece of journalistic composition, which will simplify your daily life, open your smoky eye to the outside world, and especially what is remarkable deal for a significant portion of this long Friday cruelly separates me from the weekend. Here is an article intense journalistic, within the limits of available neurons.

Today, I 'll cheerfully tell you (when you love, you do not tell, and you do not tell it to me) my not so bucolic getaway in Jersey-over-handle. Finally Jersey is a bit misleading, I should say the town of St. Helier, Jersey-over-handle or the main street and the luxury hotel in the town of St. Helier in Jersey on-sleeve. I will go and explain to you why my journalistic integrity requires me to split hairs at this point.

In the collective imagination (which in my opinion is nothing but a barren desert where jackals lurk some poorly educated), the island of Jersey is a paradise preserved for nature lovers, hikers, Odds wild, fresh air, gardens of flowers and earthy authenticity. I do not always explained. Yet the facts are there. Saturday morning, stumbled half awake with my dear sister in the departure lounge of the ferry station of Saint Malo, at 7am, it was clear that the crowd around us was not particularly beautiful for walking the red carpet of the Palais des Festivals. Gauchos beige or brown, fleece jackets with intriguing colors (sometimes pastel), hiking shoes, backpack, tent, camper, portable dishwasher solar ... The whole outrageously stamped insignia "Quechua" ... I even saw one with a bob. Love him
the coast of Brittany, I explained, it Mignonnet wish. But why that Jersey would be so exotic? After all it is 20km to fart all the coasts of Normandy Brittany ... So why pay a crossing and a change of country just to see their side but in reverse, a bit beyond me. Or they were offered equipment "Quechua" at Christmas and they knew not where to wear it ... Because
still in Jersey, the wildest part is the zoo, and so much better. Very nice zoo for that matter, a little lacking emu but not lacking in gorillas, where the lemurs frolic in freedom. It is a joy every moment of the chase to slingshot them to make hats. But the rest is fairly densely built luxury villas. And for the soil, the most glamorous thing about Jersey is the cow. The famous Jersey cow "that was stamped on each product containing a trace of the dairy product.
You who know my love of the countryside and walking, you understand that I am about to write a comprehensive praise to this wonderful island where, far from the desert areas and small stores genuine, all is shopping street, shopping center, pub and spa

sirens ... So that you understand well the real face of this island wonderful, we must put in mind that Jersey is not a wild and unspoilt paradise, but a tax haven and urbanized. And that's why we go there actually. Because in my case hunting hummingbird and the identification of different species of wild artichoke, I did it once in class CE1 green and it was enough. So as it is a tax haven protected from harmful tax that destroy the natural habitat of the rich and the wealthy bin live and breed (but not too much, that's what good little lumps rate) in peace. So they built these remarkable buildings in which their society flourishes: modern glass top banks, shopping malls, trendy bars, luxury hotels. And not to ruin their shoes rich (or because their bones have not survived the diet of this very special paradise-see below-), many of them moving in small motor vehicles, a cross between a golf cart and scooter jet. Of course there are accidents, and that's what makes these people so endearing.
The other consequence of the tax paradise is that in the ferry fleet nicely to Jersey, there is a tax-free shop. Where you find all the stuff not too good for your health but extremely splendoyant for your morale, as are fags, cigars, niaule concentrated, English chocolates and beauty products (which are beneficial for all aspects of human realm). So even before the hand of the man put the Jersey on foot, she can begin doing business in earnest. And trade out there that not laugh, since there are almost as many banks as pubs, which is saying something. The trap is to fill his bag before landing, and be strong guard when Top Shop comes complete ... Speaking of her bag, I still do not understand why the ferry does not close it all the people who vomit in Park sealed. A bit like we did with smokers at one time. Especially as the vomit I think it far more annoying than smoke cigarettes. Because there, you know, I'll be lenient, but there were Beside us a woman who was asleep. And look like nothing she woke up on purpose to throw up. She stayed 10 minutes in the head to empty its bag of his own guts, before falling asleep again as if nothing had happened. Suffice to say that with my sister, it was awfully upset us. But after 3 minutes it was used, and we started to film the lady for her to remember his long trip to Jersey. And then, for example, we have thrown overboard in the eddies behind the turbines. One felt that Ben needed to take a little air.

Brief After a short time tax-free shopping, the bag filled with bottles of gin and bundles of shortbread, we landed on the island. And then there's beautiful harbor with yachts and all around a mixture of fine glass banks and facades typical pub. And in the middle is a beautiful building all shiny and outrageously classy: our hotel. The Royal Yacht Club "oh my lady. And there was still much less understood the people who will be trekking with their bag of Quechua, because this place is so perfect that we almost hesitate to go out and go shopping ... The staff is aplaventré to perfection, and it was fun to bring 4 times the groom in the room for him to change the batteries in the remote DVD drive. As we had found a DVD that does not really worked, they gave us free access to movies on demand! Suddenly everything has downloaded their database of movies ass ... But the best this hotel is the spa "mermaid." Here is the total delirium. Everything is perfumed, set to music, perfect temperature, and you evolve as floating in cotton ouatifié ... Even there was a great shower that you made the rain all the seas of the world, with iodization charitable winds, the cries of seagulls, surfers and jet algae out of the water. And there was even an effect "xinthia" which was a large bucket of cold water hanging above your head that you can reverse by pulling on a rope (like a monk bell ringer, but in a swimsuit, and most muscular of course). And then there was everything necessary level saunas, steam rooms, to make your muscular body glistening with desire as a result of your manly perspiration (oula, pheromones ...).

After a while, when we had nothing to sweat, it was still determined to go out into the streets to exchange our money cons of beauty. The advantage in Jersey is that there is a street, it is 300m, it that in this street there are all the shops in London. Top Shop (where I bought a tshirt "i love ur mum" with a naked woman on it), New Look (where I bought a perfect jeans and a Tshirt Power Rangers, which goes very well with my pants and my hat starwars), a whole gaggle of department stores (where I bought a Prada cologne at prices enjoyable, re-pheromones), and then there's Boots ... Who is like a supermarket of beauty and drugs. Then my sister and me are filled with a semi each trailer, with rinses, creams, vitamins (the first one I found deficient I stumble), and medicines. Less than a penny a tablet of paracetamol 500mg me that makes me dream. So I put across in my cereal in my Coffee ... And I fly. Ibuprofen is at about the same price (which is good since it's been six months that I dance under anti-inflammatories). No discount on DHEA, however. We will return for the sales. Suffice to say that after 2 shops were returning to the hotel to drop our bags and we rented a caravan of camels to transported to the port on Sunday evening.
And among the stores there is Marks and Spencers, where stocks are made of chips and pickled ginger drink to keep going throughout the day. That allows me to transitioning to the chapter "British way of life" of my article! Everyone knows that England is the country's refined cuisine. So in the morning arriving at the hotel of your dreams, we started by eating a light breakfast English: breakfast tea that strips your spoon, toast and marmalade, Jersey butter, potato pancakes, bacon and eggs, beans, stewed tomatoes, and few slices of a sort of big black pudding. And there was also decorate muffins I think. Then we fueled by chips with vinegar until, according to the law of communicating vessels, the shops are empty and the pubs fill up. Then my stomach turn is filled Strongbow cider, which is not too much of cider, but a solid beer almost hallucinogenic pronounced. So I see lots of girls squads in mini skirt, fishnet tights and tank top neckline under the boobs, then it was 2 ° while farting. Then my sister confirmed that she had seen the same, so we spent the evening sitting on a bench-watching squads sluts. And it was good. Of course it gave us hungry. Then we feasted on the famous local specialty of the island: French fries with curry sauce covered with melted cheese and vinegar. Our happiness levels were paroxysmal.

This, with too much detail, stylistic heaviness and length, the summary of this weekend in Jersey ... Obviously we think only one thing: to return to the beginning balances. You come with us? At

diverse and exciting news that punctuate every moment of my hectic life, know our super-family production will be on stage May 1, there are dance, theater, music, movies, popcorn, an emu who juggles with false beard and a woman to chat ( it is the woman who is multilingual, no beard). You believe me? Ben brings you on May 1 If you want to know where you leave me a message.
meantime you should go see "all that glitters." And after you speak chav for 1000 years thou shalt make a face of peacock ate too much and you sing "song on my funny life" in the subway. And then you can go see Julien Doré (from all that glitters rolala I'm funny !), Which is very charming in "together we will live a very great love story." Especially when he plays the tambourine in traditional costume.
Check out these good words, I'll go to my course of hip hop. Jt'ai chui said too bad boy now. Yeah drives me kes you, you're the fast-talking. Go back to your mother spreads.

Japanese Sharking Cam

coastal path with a few devils

Beside some devils I paved the underworld
intentions delicious dying in the morning.
choking with desire in the heat of my hands, it warms my life
ember ephemeral.

Beside some
Saints I thought glimpse
Far beyond the bare glimmers of hope.
Leaving on my path and my gold enamel,
I never reached these sad semaphores.


with your ghosts snaked my feet
chains tortured lovers of heavy casualties, Who
their plaintive cries skinned our joy, And made a Calvary
each of my steps.


With my dreams I liked getting drunk. However, my merry mates
evaporated.
m'assécher Leaving me in the palm of a trough, My skull
deserted me was a dungeon.


with my mirror I painted my face,
Drawing each day features a character that fades
evening when I massacred heavy cotton hand
his work in the morning


From a gray bird, who was on my life
A shadow without parole, I traveled oblivion.
His eyes never left my scavenger trace
While weary withered my envelope.


Beside you my angel I found.
In the shadow of your wings I loved to travel naked.
But why your love my life is so precious,
Should he take the exile, when I open my eyes?


Beside some devils, I played lovers,
And few exquisite words would run on my wanderings. But the Devils
feverish dancing crazy dances,
And never have dried the tears from my eyes.