OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH.
Oggi ho un po' di tempo per il mio-vostro blog.
E ci sarebbero un sacco di cose che in questi giorni... diciamo settimane, mi sono passate per la testa e che avrei voluto scrivere, di cui I would have gladly talked about and for which I had lost a bit 'of time willingly.
But all these things are precisely the past and have gone away like the famous butterfly-mentioned thoughts already with huge success by a famous cntante in a famous song by a bit of year ago.
(clues? 18 years ago in America, a band, an album of ten songs).
and AME have been only slight traces just as the magical powder that makes flying butterflies.
at least I try to describe the tracks.
What do you bring the bitches in the house like a pimp while in any room full of strangers smelly and smoky like a black-faced and eyes to madorla me yelling something that looks like a reproach, and I decided to quit and go to the pool where they are old in thong drunk and JB Camparini and then I'm in the rehearsal room with the apostles and in the process I find a punk animal and I wonder if the animal is not a contagious disease because it will matter to those of animals more than people, then we're going to take a Tigrett two months and are excited that I can not say it in public because I am ashamed and then there's the fabulous Neapolitan mozzarella but I know it's on the dioxin, I'm afraid that the Dioxin has a fantastic taste like crap as well as other heavy metals that are in milling and in drips and tell me if I do not eat the grinders and the drops go crazy and I like The Shining. Fortunately
have passed due mesi dai tragici eventi narrati in passato relativi al compleanno di Rachele e il terribile mese di astinenza da ogni alcolico è finito con la finale di champions-league, ultima occasione mondana cui ho partecipato, conclusasi come tutti sanno con la vittoria di quelli forti e simpatici contro quelli forti e antipaticissimi.
W Leo Messi.
Cin.
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