Pokemon Trainer Clothes - Stores

AESTHETIC SURGERY

Recently I saw in the magazine Health on France 5 a story that shocked me:
A lady was sorry to see that his lips fell slightly. She could not bear to see her face and wanted to have surgery! This woman must have money to throw around. Surgeons have good reason to enjoy the stupidity of this kind of person! Fortunately
Social Security does not pay any what ...

The two presenters of this magazine they have forgotten the two heartbreaking stories of Pascal and Jerome both men face transplant?
Their faces were badly distorted by huge tumors caused by neurofibromatosis.
They were made free. In France we have a very good health system makes this possible!

I invite you to view a beautiful story called "My new brand face "
is the story of Maurice Simpson, a man carrying a neurofibromatosis. Since his childhood, he has staged numerous times on the operating table. He decided to undergo a very risky operation that will change her face.

Maurice worked very hard in a restaurant. He coached a basketball team. His wife is lovely. He is father of 4 children. With courage, he fought the disease as if it did not exist.

Before going to the hospital, he meets with Reggie Bibb. Their meeting me bouleversée.Petite funny story that day was Reggie wearing a beret. (I thought I recognized my gift) This covers her head is fine. His friend Lou is right to say that my friend is a French frenchy!
It felt good to smile. The images of this video are unsustainable!

Now he has new face thanks to a generous donor anonyme.Les surgeons have done a fabulous job! Americans are not lucky enough to have medical coverage as is the case in France.
Do not count on me for me to tell you everything. Watch the story. Thou shalt know two men I admire and respect deeply.

"My Brand New Face" from AdGiant we Vimeo.

Neosynephrine In Cats

at this time is where you come home?

For breakfast Gregory, whose father came home a little late the other night.

23:30. In an empty house in a deep armchair, a young man's eyes follow the hands of the clock. He wears the shoes of his father, and holds a cigar between his fingers off. On the table, the decanter which sleeps an old whiskey diffuse amber highlights. At his feet his dog asleep under the table.
To pass the time he likes to reverse the scene. The dog smoking a cigar, slippers for feet, and her ball under the table, gnawing a bone. It may be try later when the carafe is empty. Meanwhile he squirms nervously cigars, inhaling her scent, rejecting a nervous sigh. It may grate a match, the approach of the cigar and change its mind and look at the flame extinguished by burning his fingers.

23:45. The door opened timidly. At this low noise, the eyes of son s'écarquillent. He does not move the chair provided. The father enters quietly, trying not to get noticed. He runs behind his son, who turns his back in his chair, hoping that he dozed off. He sets the chair of the gaze across the room, along the back wall. A few meters further separate him from his bedroom door. Then he extends his arm toward the handle, a stern voice was heard behind the chair.

- Dad!
- Um ... Yes?
- It at this time where you come home? And you thought that plus I do not realize it?
- I do it often, and most of the time you realize not consider ...
- What do you think Daddy, what you think!
- What difference does it make anyway? You to sleep or not I would be back at the same time.
- This is the value you give to my nights of worry? This is my reward? The indifference, ingratitude? You know Dad, twenty years the sleepless nights are no more pleasant than fifty.
- You're still more driven than me ... you're not last party!
- I seem to make whoopee there? You're confusing the sleepless nights and insomnia ... at your age you should make a difference!
- Ben then sorry. I'll go to bed I'm really tired. These days were a bit demented.
- Not so fast my friend. Take time to sit down, I'd be happy to offer you a drink. This deserves a little break after no?
- I'm really not anxious now ... I still feel dizzy.
- I do not force you to drink Dad. But you and me we need to talk a little.
- Leash I go to sleep now ...
- You think only your comfort! Under the pretext that you spent 50 years you think you any permit, you think you have the right to leave like that without warning?
- I'm a kid either ...
- You're still under our roof dad, and you have homework. And I remind you that it's me again who pays your pension, and it's going to be like this for the next 40 years at least. So were you I would not zeal. And without your excess in the '70s we might not be there financially. So the least recognition it might be to be present for us. A little longer.
- But the father's neighbor, he is long gone, and he's younger than me!
- Yes the father's neighbor! Talk about an example. If you take example on guys like him you will not go away!
- It's not just him in the bike club there are plenty who spend their time away from home, and this year alone there are 2 that are still parties. And their wives and children they leave them alone.
- A band that alcolos picolent even more than I talk about a model! That's what makes you dream? Necessary to change references Dad. I'll have people just visiting me. And appreciate life.
- Even my father at my age he was already gone first.
- Oh yeah? It was 30 years ago. I believe that times have changed since then.
- Times are always changing in the direction that suits you ...
- And your mother?
- The language of lunch ... I do not believe
- Do not answer like that to your son! And your mother and yourself, it would make you happy can be when he left like that for so long? And you did not hear ... And it ended up breaking, and it is not income ... You do not remember the evening vigil to wait any news? Is that what you wish for your son now?
- It's like that is the past, we will change nothing. What's the point of reused old stories like that? It's pathetic.
- But history repeats itself constantly. Human life always has the same mouth. The same principle, the same end ... But why repeat the same shit?
- is not conn ...
- And I'll say anything to my neighbor's son? It's been 15 years that I balance my dad is a superhero, that is nothing compared to hers ... It will make me pass for a big mythology in the neighborhood if you going to break you like that, and if you disappear overnight.
- Yeah it's a real problem ... but my boy was not telling them to salads snotty opposite either.
- The worst is that I hardly had to tell him to make him believe that you were a superhero ...
- Yeah but his father is a scoundrel ... obviously it was easier
- Her father was a scoundrel, but if you continue like this you'll soon make it to the competition!
- Yes well it is still there! That's life too! Becaufe it is not just absent one is a loser. It happens to everyone.
- No one is immune from stupidity. You got the right to plant, and I have the right to yell too. What is good and the papers there, one more call?
- No son, that my results
- Your results? Let's see. I'm almost afraid to look now ... If it was brilliant you would not have stayed so long there.
- Well look, you see. Either way you look or not the results be the same.
- Oh yeah? Maybe if I look at the envelope further 20 minutes with a grunt, the results will not improve? You did that with my ballot
note ... - Yes ... effectiveness was limited in general ...
- Okay so I'm going. Anyway the point where we are.

The son opened the envelope with a sigh, his hand on the forehead, with a dramatic exaggeration. His caricature he makes his speech to conceal his real concern, and hand wipes the drops running down his temples. His eyes roam wildly black lines. He puts the paper on the coffee table, sighs, looks up at his father.

- Well, I expected worse Dad. It is getting better compared to last time right?
- Ben was told to continue my efforts. It is not good ... but top
- Yes I can see it thank you, you will not even honor roll ... you reconvened next week?
- Yes I return with the department head this time.
- I hope you will take charge of it ... there are so many who have tried. You're a terrible you know!
- Well it seems to have a lot of hope for my case ...
- May their hopes be realized ... I'm rather proud of you all in case Dad you made efforts.
He closes the envelope and went to his father.
- I leave the store with the rest of your medical records ... I hope this is one of the last I read.
- Well I hope so, but you know there will be others. And I have to leave. And longer and more often ...
- Yes, finally for this kind of crap the later the better. What is so great out there for everyone to finish? Tell me I'm interested! I hope at least that you take your foot while I am the blood of ink in my chair! Tell me what gives you the low that you do not here!
- Ben
... not much - is that the products you spin? I hope you take no dangerous stuff ... what do they pass on to you people out there? There is so much crap that circulate in hospitals ... You look at what they spin you eh?
- No te son bile not they know what they give me ...
- Oh yeah? Then you glide well over there? You guts right? That's why you there go back?
- Sometimes it's not bad but ...
- That girls can be? They send you is sexy nurses that? I was sure ... It's nurses in short skirts that make you injections of morphine. What do you want me to do it against me ...
- Not only that ...
- Note says that's pretty cool as cancer, I'll be finding me. You take me next time?
- Nan but you do not have anything at all, at any age!
- What do you mean there is an age to be connected?
- Well I think yes. And five minutes ago you told me it was better not to repeat the ancient bullshit ... So it might be better if you stay a little wiser. If everyone loses it at the same time here, Mom will probably not appreciate ...
- Sure ... other hand, it is she who has set an example ... It was she who mucked first.
- So you see I had a good example in the eyes!
- Nan nan Dad you will not get you out that way. You know very well that it is a party when Mom told you nicely to fuck him peace for a very long time, and join as late as possible. Yes, you followed her everywhere but over there you can leave her alone, she has everything she wants on the spot.
- Yeah but I miss ...
- Do not worry, she will stay over there super long time, even if you waiting 20 years to join you'll have a beautiful stretch of eternity to share with her. Relativize some what. You're not the center of the world. Damn, why must you be so impatient for your age?
- We do what we can sonny, everyone does what he can. In life you need to know basis, and must also know how to leave.
- should also think about those who remain ...
- You think I enjoy letting you there? When you were a kid it made me a huge hangover in the morning to let you go to work. Have to say that made choices that did its best, and that for the rest, there was no choice. So when you have no choice we have nothing to regret ... There is no reason to be angry ...
- Oh yes, there are plenty of reasons! Actually no, there can be no reason, but I could not care less! In November the weather is rotten, and night falls faster. It's every year, irremediable, that's life. Yet this shit seriously, and we complain, and we stick together and we will keep you warm until spring ... So yes, I complain that it is autumn and I'm entitled!
- It con, but I'm rather pleased that you detest it ... it means we have at least had a good summer together. It would be sad if we could leave the past behind you like that, without it we lack a little.
- Easy for you to say you've still got the blood drenched psychotropic Me too ... if I had nurses in short skirts to take my temperature, and drug self-service, I have positive thoughts about the disease!
- wait a little son ... The strong painkillers are one of the few privileges of the sick and old! So it leaves them a few years. Glad you sex. I assure morphine is not much better. You have everything else. You're beautiful, strong, smart, not two like idiot ...
- I have a father who made the 400 blows at the hospital, that goes without warning, and returns more later, and whose the results are even more than poor ...
- Yes, but tonight he came home. So why spend that time to take the lead?
- You're right. We should instead celebrate it ...
- Voila! Come share a little of my whiskey do you?
- Haha! No Dad, you, you go to bed now! You need rest, you're growing.

The father sighs and turns on his heels, shoulders low. He returned to his room, muttering ...

- Couillon!
- I distinctly heard Dad! .

Title For Friends Birthday Party

The tender faces a violent poison.

accumulation neuroses futile, stupid and potentially dangerous, but absolutely necessary to my existence.

throat encased in a black tie, smothering under a light scent and anonymously, sweating bad coffee, I speak with a stoic efficiency at a meeting without color. Scroll down my face expressions learned. My mind assembled mechanically words and sends them to the chain, subtly modulated by human intonations falsely, to this audience ruminant. I wonder at the durability of this mechanism, which day after day gets under way, and does not seize. I dread the expected failure of this improbable hoax. The mask held there for another hour? Another five minutes and I can go out, breathe. I imagine an actor, I invent games to take a few moments more. The entire morning can be. And then sometimes, surreptitiously, the eye disorder. The time to fetch a document in my suitcase, a pained expression distorts my face, I pretend not to find document Searched, I earn twenty seconds under the table, drops a sigh, bite my lip, and back to the table, impassive and smiling coldly.
And the break in the toilet, I stared at me, clinging to the lavatory. Trembling under the effect of coffee, I watch my face and I have not changed. The mask is transparent, dark circles are real, and modulated my voice was not human. I think about my breathing, my chest seems stiff.

I try to decorate the mask pouts some rigor. I rarely leave in recent days. For the credibility of the thing, I decorate. Smiles and attentions of witticisms, compliments of the shovel. Sometimes I pretend compassion before any complainant. This appeasement of surface finish can be impregnated by a little more deeply my flesh ... I mean
rain and sunshine, and just under my skin, I feel blades that slowly settle. And under my disembodied speech, I repeat a thousand arguments to convince me of the absurdity of my pain. They're healing, ten minutes, and then I forget the blade and slice again.

I had not slept the night before. I turned into a typhoon indefatigable, freezing my veins, shaking me, illuminating my Board of harsh lights and cold. I turned around for hours in my bed, a prisoner of my impotence as a straightjacket. My

capricious boils were of no avail in the morning nothing had changed. Strangle my pillow did not provide any particular improvement, any more than the repeated bites in the sheets ripped apart. Always the typhoon in my belly, and its haunting cries that covered my thoughts. Screams, silence, what is the difference? Lack, always there, sleep less, and rabies have resumed. The shame of myself again inflicted stupidly, this voluntary torture. After some struggles

, saved by the recklessness and abandonment, I manage to sleep peacefully. And then at night I open one eye, and he is there at the bedside. Intently watching my sleep illusory, a smile of disdain at the corner of his mouth. And it is necessary, chasing dreams sweet fleeing at his approach. Silent, staring into my eyes, the poison is there. He clasps his heart in his hand and cold makes it beat. First slowly, then faster and faster, and never leave my eyes.

But I got up, automatically, mesmerized by my poison. I Typhoon took my hand and we went to work. The routine for both of us. The poison, typhoon, black tie, mask polite, and time passes too slowly distilled ... And in every minute flowing, concentrate the poison.

Sometimes I lie awake in my house to my office in the morning, scanning the moon for an anxious eye. From a vacant eye and crazy flowing underneath the deep dark circles and dry. On the eye and which formed protruding on a screen that lights up my face a livid light.
I entertained in these musings of a passionate night with a telephone, turning every ten minutes, until it finally spits these few words I expect. I torture my nails scratching the screen smooth and death, shaking as I shook my fevers. More than once I nearly exploded against a wall ... But we must preserve the lives of hostages, including a confession ... we hope

This was one example I could cite it as one hundred . Hundred things I need, a hundred things that haunt me to make me sick, every day. And every day one of them is so strong that it permeates every cell of my body. I conquer, the price of some fevers, and it is his sister who attacks me, then his daughter and then his shadow. So the days pass.

For years, I strictly forbid me to wince in the rain. Each storm is an excuse for this childish challenge. I cross, expressionless, and I remain unaffected by water running down my face. What could some
grin against the elements? A distorted face is it less permeable or less sensitive? I see in this discipline the embryo of a victory over the pain I suffered. I do not have the same wisdom to bad weather plaguing under my skin.

These paths cross paths are hidden shortcuts or detours, whatever, that j'empreinte to happiness. If I have so much trouble, does that mean I go? Child I dreamed for hours in front of the stone crosses and lace that flourished in the moors of Brittany ...

How many ruins in the lower house? How many wars have overwhelmed? How many times he was again rebuilt, and with this morbid obstinacy and laughable at the same place so vulnerable, where necessarily the enemy comes back, where they will remain easy prey balls heavy and cold ... So I
rebuild, the same material so fragile, perpetually. And on the same floor where furniture and sinking, slowly but inexorably, my foundation. I feel the soles of my feet up the heat of hell. I keep the nose in the air, stretching like a marshmallow ... Always the same pains, the same questions, same mistakes, the same vagaries.




I often persuaded, perhaps to console me, it could be otherwise. Without these neuroses and addictions without these, what would happen to me? Without this typhoon roared through my veins, what a sad breeze would turn my blood? Where fleet generally stifling the fragrance poisons my dears, would I support clean air and fresh, sanitized?
I certainly decrease, very slowly, like a balloon punctured, without consistency, without stress, without pressure.

You say one day we will get used to their absence, emptiness, lack, the latent dissatisfaction. It clings to the belief that the reason comes back, it grows with time. That adolescence is just lazy little linger in a corner from us. One day, certainly, the body will simply happy little soul and to delight in his dreams, as in his memories, and remain deaf to the song the thousand mermaids.
But the days pass. The addiction is increasing, pounding his claims, struggling, taking us hostage.

But this poison is me and nothing other than me. It is my lot, the life that I received and I shall have more. This weakness is myself, this pain is proof of that life.
The energy of the fall, propels me through the day in depths of love, I fall again as I fell often with great belief, sometimes with enthusiasm, with relish. I was complaining, especially people judge me, I was taking pity on the victim of my immaturity. But I never have complained of these poisons there.
I feared so, and I complained often, when alone in the morning on an empty stomach and neck typhoon deserted by the smell of poison, I got up too cold, and pale as the moon left me numb.
For when flies are also poisons my soul, and appear around me happiness too intense for reasons too wise. So I fly in my typhoon, far far behind the front man of the mask, to divine pleasures that I pay in sleepless nights.

And these pleasures there, what happiness there is joy to which I am entitled. It is happiness to me allocated. Dare to tell me, if your time is worth much more, to live differently, to love otherwise. Here

life, the material burning. I dare not smother. I still fall asleep in the dark glow of my love, pain and nights of absence, they will succeed tomorrow
a dawn smiling, she will face a tender poison.