Yellow Discharge White Particles In Pee

50 - A gun and me alone... Let me collect dust.

"Just Because I Do not Say Anything,
Does not Mean I Do not Like You.
I open my mouth and I try and i try
But no words came out.

(...)

And besides your probably holding hands
With some skinny, pretty girl that likes to
Talk about bands and
All I wanna do is ride bikes with you,
And stay up late and maybe spoon."

TOUT SIMPLE MENT.

Humeur : Fatiguée de faire le yo-yo.
B.O. : Nothing came out - The Moldy Pe ac hes.
Pic: Post Secret.

Sweet Custom Bball Warm Ups

49 - Twist away the gates of steel.

A nail in hunting another nine yards. I do not want to piss me off to play without the leech than it ever worth the effort. I do not want to say goodbye but do not have much choice, there. So that's how it finished. Finished finished finished, and now I ENJOY (unless of course you say the right words, and you're doing the right things, and you put your eyes in my eyes as there is one which nzaine of days, but you will not do it, Jove) .

Good if not, my bug tracker to death, it has been months I have and I still have no hits. Yet I'm sure plenty of people who qu'y'a googlent "assholes", "I want to die", "I love him he is too good," "Miss Amanda," "I understood the lesson I will repeat not, "all that.
So I'm like I can with this tracker, and I enjoy combing through the tab "geolocation". There's something that bothers me. Who the hell lives in (or near) Yvette, in the center? I swear it stresses me out every day or almost Yvette Anybody who visits me and everything and I do not know who it is. Apart from the mysterious stalker Yvette I also Americans, Canadians, Brazilians, Belgians and of course (but that I know who I reckon it's finally, kind people who live their life through that of others). Brief.

So, you, who lives Yvette, you manifest. I am sure that it is actually not a stalker but it's a mystery (e) dude (ess) with the IP is based there and the coup that I "will fall down", but good. I like to think that j'intéresse strangers.

Mood: I want, thank you.
RB: Gates of Steel - Devo.
Pic: Jonnie Craig.

Ramipril And Back Pain

48 - Garçon ! Un double triangle équilateral s'il vous plait.

PoPoPo Friends, last night was to be the evening of tuberculosis, it did not happen. We had originally planned to go to Regine, in Crimea possible, and dressed in our finest dresses (or not). Unfortunately for us, after long hours of waiting outside the club, completely fastened to each other, we were not always entered. Fuck 'em, go to Tania.

Tania, 0:30 am, empty rooms. "Rich Girls" sounds, bim, it does tilt. A few sips of rum later and here we are on track (ouuuuuuh). Was it well. A few minutes later, all the recalibrated Regine finally decide to come to this club kitsch. There are too many people, it's drunk, it's fatigue. And if you come home?
Finally, no. The house, it will not for now, enjoy the evening. Girlfriend and myself Hail to half a billion taxis, none of them take us as they are "all" caught. So we find nothing better than to keep walking, singing to warm the Stripes and yelling "PÉÉÉÉÉDÉÉÉÉÉÉÉ!". We arrive gradually Rue de la Madeleine. "Oh but it's really not far from Truskel! Come on, let's go, ranafout. We're gone. It was full of bullets, the redneck, the regulars were absent, which was surely a good thing. The main thing that was cool.
Finally, we ended the evening in Austria, an express trip unorganized totally improvised. His sixth journey to her, my 19th. One would be much like tides, especially given the delicacy and tact of the Austrians! The least we can say is that they transcend the limits. Yes, yes. Alcohol teach me something useful: I speak a presqu'excellent English when I'm soaked, while sober, it's total darkness.

This article was full of private jokes, most of you should understand anything, and I 'm sorry.



Mood: better.
RB: My ride for me - Edith Piaf.
Pic: Luca Gabino.

Poptropica Games.ccom

47 - You never hold me like your little piece on the side.

Something has changed. I became apart, put me on the low side, I have the impression of being in the race. I was dumped on a motorway. I feel totally isolated. We do not care what I feel, no more invites me to parties and even the most simple questions, I am invariably the last to know everything, you do not listen to me when it will not, in fact we do not notice when it goes wrong. You argue with your eyes closed, guided by I know not what. You do not see when I call-rescue when I'm on the verge of irreparable harm, you hear nothing. Not even a whisper. I have the unpleasant impression that everybody was dropped, and I do not know what is the reason. I feel like shit in the air, from far away and alone, without giving further (anyway we do not ask me), leave all these people in their quiet little life shit. I'm in a period where I need to be surrounded, smothered limit not to die, and you're just the opposite. You all turn me back, everyone has a different degree. You prefer your new friends to your old girlfriend, you act as if it does not matter to me. I'm not jealous, I just do not want to fall in your esteem for no reason, I do not want to take my place, that place, I fought for it, fought with myself and lose it would be an overall failure.
I would like to limit all let you down before you do it. This will do less harm. I'll do it someday. When you never hear from me, you understand.
This is by no means the paranoid. It's much too recurrent to be. If the idea that it can be went through your mind, then I think you really have nothing SEIZED. We have nothing to say.
Still glad I Miss Amanda.


Mood: as the straw in the desert, so cliche.
RB: Eyesight To The Blind - Placebo.
Pic: Magdalena Fischer.

V-tech Digital Answering System Manual

46 - Beautiful friend, the end.

I got a fucking blow last night. The worst thing. I'm forced to mourn a person still alive, and I do not support it. When I think of my tears come, I want to hurt me, to disappear, since anyway I'm nobody. Disappear. 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... Implosion imminent.

And I cannot look inside HIM anymore.

Mood: senseless.
RB: The End - The Doors.
Pic: Maciek Pogoza, again.

Ways Of Congratulating Pregnancy

45 - I love you baby, can I have some more ? Ooh ooh, the damage done.

Nothing nothing nothing. I do not understand. I do not know how to react, I do not control anything anymore, I am again caught up in a situation cacatoesque (Gary and Jude if you read this, I hear you sing on). There is positive, negative, but mostly non-classified. I do not know how to interpret its behavior, how to decipher how to guess what's in his head, what he expects of me. It was so
innattendu everything. All was not perfect, but particular. I am ashamed to have drunk so much. I should be pretty ridiculous, not to walk straight, with the girls yelling, spilling glasses, failing to properly articulate. I blame myself for not having found the opportunity or the right time to address important issues, for which I am moved. I also want not to determine where does this discomfort that a. Why is it so secure? I do not know. I am worthless.
was beautiful at times though. I well remembered all those moments. When I woke up slowly and I felt his arm around me. When his long hands roamed my back, my arms, my face. When I met his gaze and he smiled at me. When he held me tight in her arms. Several times. I felt like that day never stops. And finally the time passed, and then everything fell apart. Finally I'm exaggerating a bit but hey. I terribly afraid of falling into the same relationship a few months ago, which I expect nothing but me nothing but doubts. Wait, always wait a little sign that never came (or too late) and that there will probably not do. Sad refrain is not it?

Well, fortunately I also saw my copinous dj set for the famous Glitches that everyone has heard (with the ad we did in the streets of Tours, it was not hard to come) . I went to Manon's house, I thought it was a small party raised between "us", the band which, overall I can still sober and I find myself surrounded by twenty gus drunk, known and unknown . I had to put me in the bath eh. So I'm BIM glass on glass (Cuba Libre, do not forget me I'm doctor B), and then it already time to leave. Why not the good it is very small, the bouncers that empty slab, they let in all the balls more psychopaths than each other. Antoine sees us, he is tense but he looks happy. His acolytes Clement is thoroughly him by cons. They spend good things okay. After I have some memory lapses. I know that Jude, Manon and myself found ourselves in the street blouses for I know not what, we walked, we yelled, we laughed, it was cool, I drank glasses but I remember not having paid one and I wheeled excavators and Jude Bertrand. Those are my only memories of Why Not. A remake anyway, with less rum this time to see.

Mood: Lost Control.
RB: All the Little Pieces - Louis XIV.
Pic: Maciek Pogoza.

Colon Cancer Undigested Food

44 - I've got you to let me down.

Bon bah now I'm going on tour in two days. I do not really know what purpose other than to lose money, and certainly my dignity in the process. But hey, I like to believe it. So the coup I have to find how to dress, because I go out. I'll see fabulous Glitches Why not mix in, it promises. So I'd like to look cool, but a little class, but not too much, y'know? And I do not know what to put. And I'm drunk. And then it you drunk so I'm sure. Tonight I
exactly 26 contacts connected on Facebook, Myspace and 11 of 19 on MSN and yet I'm pissed off at death. I do not speak to anyone and nobody talks to me, beautiful is the advancement of Internet communication like (oh I mean I V'la "Plok" Facebook, I have a friend!) (Oh shit is a ball) (yes I'm never happy).
So as I'm bored bah I'm making this crap article. And I sail on some blogs too, and they are people who come to tell really interesting stuff with a good vocabulary and topics addictive. I tell my poor life, read three Clampin (thank you, for that matter), which is rather not very cheerful. It's true what I'm complaining all the time, I often tell the same kind "kikoo I want to die" in short, is not great. Sometimes notice, I have bursts of good humor, which I'm light. Genre right now. But on 44 items y'en not even a tenth.
I want to read books full of good but I do not know where to buy. I like the classics but also new stuff, so if you want advise me / lend, I'm involved. These
time I do not really know why, my memory comes back to me (that's it, I drink less then my neurons grow back or not). Yesterday I was kind of train suddenly remember a sunset near Blagnac airport with my ex, like it was lying on the roof of a building and watch the planes go (yes it ' say it is beautiful). I almost textoter for once but I dunno if he still has the same number. I also recalled a shouting match with some monstrous Mr. stairs in Maxim's. I remember that I waited for him to "put the record straight" (I reckon it's my specialty), and he sent me shit severe type "I want to see you anymore hear from you coward Cluster me for crying out loud. "Then I'm gone, and I cried on the subway, Mr. worse after I joined the Truskel to apologize. Very funny this memory, especially as Mr. is one of the worst balls infréquentables I know. What he took me in that time (a year and a half note)? I do not know and I want to know. But it's cool to step back.
Anyway, good night, maybe?

Mood: in a vacuum.
RB: The needle & the damage done - Neil Young.
Pic: Ashley Stymest my future husband.

Confidentiality Clause For Fax Sample

43 - Don't wanna waste away my life-savings, too many feelings left to save.

It was dark and I do not really know where it was. It looked like a festival, just the same kind as the Garden Nef Party, except that the site was directly integrated into the site itself. We were three. It was after a long period of isolation, stubble and dirty clothes, but it felt good. He seemed to rediscover all, he was touched by every detail of what we live, the drunk people around us, the guys on the side of the stage who smoked, all alone, the sun was setting and the cold that s' installation, how sassy she had painted her nails, holes in my sneakers. Everything. He was so changed that he hardly spoke. She went to fetch us beer, leaving me alone with him, I had not seen for so long. I knew the next day he was leaving, I knew it all. I knew this time would not know it when we see him again. He had two days of suspension, to say farewell to life, and it is with us he chose to pass. Eternal gratitude. We were both then, and I did not know what to say for fear of disturbing her back among the living. So I called him, then walked up and I took him in my arms. It lasted ten seconds, a minute or perhaps five, I do not know. I had my nose against his neck, his beard pricked me but it felt good. It was not cold, unlike me. Then it became moist, and me too. I asked him why he had done "it" and he did not answer. We just cried and it was enough for an answer. She arrived, interrupted our embrace and made me a thousand reproaches. "It is fragile, you know very well that you would not do that." No I did not know. I knew nothing, what to do or not do, I was just doing things by instinct. I was only assured that I shall never see him again. In the end, we decided to sleep under the stars. Each For its part, although his eyes he asked only one thing: not being alone.

Mood: Wounded.
RB: The Crystal Ship - The Doors.
Pic: Tibo Zissou

Italian Wedding Wording

42 - 'Cause I adore(d) you.

You do not deserve me. It is obvious now. It took you pronounce these words these, and you do not pronounce those. It's a shame, yes, that's a shame.
It always comes back to the maxim laid by Jude: "To say things and act as if we had not known it is wrong." You is the perfect example. You have memory failure or just hidden disincentives? Do you express your faith in me to finally smiles do worse than before? You tire me, and I'm tired of being tired. Especially when the result is invariably the same name.
is decided, it will not be for me to come to you from racking my brains for plans to con in order to be perfect, to bleed me again, as tonight, because I was afraid of our whites. It will be up to you to make these sacrifices then. It will not be for me to strive for perfection, to be afraid of the slightest misstep, anxiety every contingency. I dump everything. Torture yourself just a little, not even a tenth of what I am killed, you'll see if it's easy. I wish you much courage or not.
I'll raise a finger over for you, nothing will come from me, I'll be dead, as you were so used to doing. Let's exchange the roles, I appointed thee the burden. You have no choice if you want me to prove you've changed, roll up your sleeves and plan provisions; the wilderness may be longer than expected.

Mood: upset.
RB: Razorblade Sky - Queenadreena.
Pic: Jude.

Magic Tilt Vin Location

41 - L'alcool, le manque, et la maladie mentale.

is done, we are in 2009. This Christmas Eve was very strange. Even unhealthy. Hiding in the bathroom to cry it's not very nice what. Crying what, you say? Crying shame, despair, doubt, tiredness, fatigue, anxiety, lack.
"I do not know where I'm past few days, what I should do, how I should react. I lost track. I was so sure of myself there not long ago, I 'were content to be distributed on new foundations, to be moved on ANYTHING basically. But it took you disembark like that, without warning, you fucked everything I had managed to repair weak, that you violated one by one the barriers that I put my heart before. You're a bulldozer. I hate you. I am not unsettled and I really like this. For once I had asked nothing and I was careful not to make a pretense of fuckin first step towards you. For once, I remained silent, erased ... You suddenly wanted to change that. Help me to follow you. Help me to know what I should do. Start by not already make me doubt, by no longer make me doubt. "
That is what is going on in my head while my tears flowed for the second time that evening. Yes because there was a first time. It was just because I realized that I could be pretty unbearable. I wanted to slap me, me bleed. Yet I tried to make efforts, when I heard my own voice, for example. There, I said to myself internally "Warning, you're a ball at that moment. Shut your mouth for a moment, do you remember, then forget that you did and again." And obviously it did not work. I hate myself. That
, 2009, you give envy.

Mood: lost.
RB: After Hours - The Velvet Underground.
Pic: Irina Ionesco.