Wedding Koorai Sarees

ATTILA THE SCOURGE OF GOD

"you do me a great big favor ... ... ... chess as a house?" is not a question, even though it may seem, but a peremptory order followed an ill, treacherous and implied threats like "If I say no I swear ...".
"Come on! Please! It is six days, less than a week!" is the compassionate expression following the first request.
"I do not know how else to do and then ... I know that deep down you like it too!"
"Next - I say - shoot! You need?"
"Attila!" says my friend. Only three syllables: At-ti-la.
speaker and I know I already know what he wants.

Attila is a tabby cat, his cat. A six-pound cat, gray and striatum, with a pound of nails. Which is he tends not resist, they cry and cry out for vengeance bags sofas armchairs.
Those who know him lose faith in God
Attila is a weapon of mass destruction.

"But do not talk so!" I say "but for heaven's sake!"
"Look! I give you the keys of the house. Once you do see a day, give him a bag of food, a bit 'of water and if you changed his litter box. Nothing. A few minutes a day .. . for six days! "
"But porcaput ..." is the oath that I will strangle in her throat.
"Yes? You? And! You?". I mention it with a head and now I find myself in hand the keys of my friend.

Reach home at about 18.00. I open and Attila is already there, just behind the door. Rubs me on the leg and greets me with a feeble " miaooo " then gets up on his hind legs and sharpen the nails on my jeans and meat of my calf. The caress and he, the damned, he rubs his tail raising.
As agreed to make dinner, to a bit 'of water in the bowl and, taking advantage of his attention to the food, I go away from home.
Easy. E 'was easy after all.

The next day, a little 'later, around 20:00, back in the house and meowing Attila greets me stronger as to show his disappointment at being late. Runs to the kitchen and starts to turn around between his legs as if I wanted to hurry to the Serviglio lunch.
Quickly swallows the contents of the bag that I had paid the first few seconds in the bowl and jump with a leap Sun beds on the couch next to me.
Turn your head down and I understand she wants to cuddle. The
inadvertently scratch the throat and descend gently towards the belly. My hand is blocked by the legs and claws from the front while the rear with a series of two or three jerks I scratch around the inner arm. The feeling is the same as having touched an uncovered electric wire. A shock you dry through the body and from it rises a curse to the sky almost like a curse. But
Attila is there to head up and Sun beds on its side on "his" couch.
I approached the door and walk away. I've had too much and may even be enough for today.

"Ah, if she knew! You will not believe me! But tonight ... Oh my God! Tonight! We could not sleep a wink!" I said the lady next door neighbor of my friend open the door and feeling comes over.
"Good morning, ma'am!" What happened? " I ask.
"The kitten, the kitten of his friend's meow all night! Poor thing just feels! Do something! Do it for me. You know, I am old, I sleep at night and for that little bit 'I was awakened by that heartbreaking .... meow! Truly heartbreaking! I say this with the lady and her enigmatic and hermetic request tells me to take more care of the "cat" or rather just take the "kitty" and take it away from the house and possibly never to return again.
"Of course sir!" I say and add "I carry with me today! happy?"

Attila seems to have understood the program and I turn around rubbing even more than before. I'll take her up and after you open the door of my car slowly on the seat. The time to turn and he sits on the shelf for long.

reached home have the time to get the cat out of my arms now, light and quiet with a leap, jump on a cushion of the couch. Squints eyes and begins to "purr". It 's the new landlord at all. He moves with grace, without any fear, with knowledge.
spent the last three days with my new tenant without major trauma and without excessive damage. He cries a pillow quartered and suffers a tent that I wanted to change for some time. The back of my hands and my hands bear the marks of affection "kitty" but it will!

"Please bring him and I do not ask for more favors like!" I say to my friend.
"Thank you, thank you again. But he has behaved really badly? Sorry again." I said and picked up after Attila goes away.

Finally I took off half of that weight! I'd had enough! Ah .!!!.. finally alone! Only! Too much more! Seeking eyes Attila who has gone away. I fail to see although it is no longer with me.
I can still hear his " purr ... purr ... " to feel the closeness and warmth of her soft hair.
There is no more. Finally. And I'm alone, and I only tremendously

NAUSEA
:-(

Maxine On St Patrick Clipart

PLASMON GENERATION

When I go to my parents' house like to stay a few minutes alone in the room continues to be mine and rummage among the my things. Every object continues to be in the same place where I left off and even though it has no commercial value is important to me. Memories resurface always gently. I was given this ring in silver from a friend of mine who wanted a greater good friendship and I never had the courage to confess. This magazine instead, I received a gift from my classmate before moving to another city.

I do not like the memories. They make me feel bad. The memories you cry because time of your life and how much is spent unnecessarily. You yell what you could be who you were and become who you really are and you are. Now you can not do anything even if you believe that you do something. Is not it nice living memories and it is nice to have.

But in a drawer of the same cabinet that I see here is something again, a picture of the fourth grade class that I attended at the Salesian Institute in my hometown. 23 children in a classroom, placed on three lines, the highest and lowest behind seated or kneeling, each with a black apron, with the same collar and white bow with the same gray and light gray for boys for girls. Actually, the flakes were blue and pink but the photo is in black and white and shades of gray than the picture gives more consistency.

How strange, I can remember my friends even if not the names of all. There was a skyscraper, a tall boy, the first in the top left, and before him Ciccio, a fat boy in the class had given that very name. In the midst Andrea smiled and his ears earned a large part of the paper the picture itself. John smiled in the front row who had polio as a major slap in the face of which bore the consequences. Maria was the smallest in stature and Peter was sitting beside her with one eye perpetually ajar to hide his squint in felt ashamed. Denton named for its special image and the Abyssinian took over the nickname for that frizzy hair the color of his skin dark just the opposite German pallor of a corpse and straight-haired and blond.

For an absurd coincidence or chance a few days before I happened to see a similar class photo of the son of a friend of mine, The photo was in color and children's clothing made it even more colorful. We do not use the aprons and most certainly not the ribbons around his neck. Some say it is too reminiscent of the grim decades of a uniform and discipline.
All the children were smiling to the photographer to show off, almost everyone, a bell'apparecchio orthodontics. All the same, all beautiful, with small and insignificant nuances.

It 's the new generation pulled up with baby food and food preparations for children.
It 's the new generation that is bursting with health, ipervaccinata against everything and antibiotic coverage for all. I think where it fails the apron and bow thinks Plasmon to standardize the children but this is my personal opinion as mine remains the

NAUSEA
:-(

Erosive Gastritis Nuts

people so '

some years now live, for rent, in an ancient palace. The nobility of this property is visible at the entrance where a huge eagle, I believe in plaster, dominating inside, the door and a stained glass window, placed in front of it, limits access to what in times past would have been a garden, but today is the storage of bulky water tanks and a noisy pump. The nobility is appreciated also fallen from the dust that powdered the stucco of the stairs, it obscures the lamps and bricks in my little flat coming off more frequently.

Outside the building there are shops, some of which, lately more often, change the owners of licenses and product categories, while the smallest of these sets with a banner proudly input, with a plate written in italics dark green on cream background; Fratelli Grimaldi - Tailoring since 1926.

Old Mr. Grimaldi I find every day sitting on a humble chair near the door, leaning on some cloth to sew and put one foot on a stool that serves as a banquet for the "tools" of the trade: skeins of thread, scissors, a piece of chalk , a thimble and other small objects. The other brother, I knew, died a few years ago and two others, a boy and a man in his forties help him get on with the job.

Mr. Grimaldi is a good person and I like to exchange a few words with him.

"How are you, Mr. Grimaldi? "I ask after greeting him." Well, but ... might be better, or ... probably will not ever get better than this! "I replied a bit twisted 'mouth.

" The crisis, right? "I ask the little' rhetoric and" No ... is not a crisis. Indeed, to be honest, I never blamed the crisis in this area. But take a seat. Take that chair and sit down. Here, near me! Chat ".

" You see! I have a store full of bags of clothing stores for a large part of the city. "He says." Well! No? "I ask knowing that it was in those envelopes is the origin of face to face Mr. Grimaldi." Yes, of course ... but you it is simple jobs to routine. To these I have to shorten some dress pants and shake, while those I have to change the buttons or any open slot. All works well, without interest, without joy. Did you know? you must also work to the delight not only for the money. In fact ... "and stops with the same face to face before.

" Indeed? "I ask to hear the reasoning. The old tailor, supports what he worked on his legs, takes off his glasses and remembering the times gone says: "Once they worked for little and that seemed a little much. We were all poor people and the tailor was used to hide the poverty. How many times have I "made" coats and jackets! and sometimes the inside was the most worn part of the surface! I also remember when, with Emily, my brother, we took some measures to make the wedding dress of the customer. Always with some half size bigger because, after the marriage, check the bacon. And that customer came back after a few years, because you had to do some other work, always in the same dress. Having to tell a customer that there was no help for her dress was how to report a bad diagnosis, prognosis. I also remember the faces of those mothers who brought their children new pants with holes on the knees in a fall during a football match. They waited in prayer our own decision in most cases very mild. But we were tailors and the workshop was our job. Then came the lords Marzotto, Lebole, Sanremo with their clothes on the assembly line. All the same, is modest in cut and in the quality of the fabrics but still we serve, we serve our thimbles to change any of the half-size or length. Today it is not so! The quality of the fabrics is very bad and the same clothes should fit only for a season or two at most. And then there are the new super-technological fabrics. They are called Hi Tech as Ceramide or Teflon or the Goratex. For me they are just plastic sewing impossible, difficult to adjust, ugly. Patience! "And shakes his head slowly how to conclude a speech Voilerie painful.

"Yeah Right!" I say come and immediately stopped "Today I give € 10 to shorten a pair of pants and 20 for a little work on a silk dress. earn well and I can not complain but you want to put ?..."

is not the same thing. It can not be the same. It can never be the same. Everything is changing and will change except that the

NAUSEA
:-)

Templates Of Letter Of Comunite Service

INTERRACIAL

Anna is the mother of a friend of mine but it's as if it were mine. Indeed it is not my mother but it is a my friend because you can discuss with friends and act like you could not with their mothers do.

Always attentive to guests' needs and, at times obsessively careful not to miss a smile, a gentle caress and a council and, perhaps, even a rebuke.

know you always and forever I want to know, and it will love the next.
"Good morning, Mrs. Anna. How are you?" is my greeting. "Hello, Good! Not really good: pretty well ... almost too bad!" his answer is that troubles me and worries me. "What happened? - Ask - are you hurt?" "No no no! We miss this one. And 'that ... I'm sorry, but I do not want to talk about!"
It takes a cigarette from a packet, the switch is to the side of the filter, turns his hands off and still retain it in the package.

"Do you want a coffee.?" Calls with a fake smile as a three euro coin. "All right! So we calmed down a little song about it? Make me company?" "Sure," she says and then immediately leads to a coffee table and two cups.
wants to talk, I feel, I want to scream and beat their fists on the table or in someone's face, he needs to say what the ruined stomach. "What happened?" I ask with a tone more energetic. "Marina. My grace is called Marina. He must not do this to me."

Marina is the daughter of twenty-five, pretty, student and worker, not to burden the family. A good girl! A sweet and edgy at the same time.
"Because unfortunately, what has he done?"
"He's a boy!" she says "a good guy, nothing to say, serious, sympathetic. She has a degree and knows three languages. But ..."
"Okay! But you must also convince you that Marina is 25 years old and had to happen!" reference in response. "No, no. You can not understand! He is a foreigner, is Senegal, Liberia or Ivory or better to say I do not know. For me they are all the same." "What?" ... Black? " I say.

head to China to imply a yes, but also adds a deep sigh, agitated and moves his hands as if to add something that does not want uscirle from the intestines and stops in his chest.

"Come on now Come on! Do not think Bluebeard or something! I think will be a nice young man knowing the character of your daughter. Come on! It's not the black man?" And I realize only when it is called having committed a gaffe terribbile that, fortunately, is welcomed with a smile from Anna.
"Who knows! I do not like this story!" she says. "But you already know?" I ask.
"No no no, but I also want to know and talk to him. To see what stuff a man is. ... And also never mind go!"
"Forget what?" I ask again.
"I think it is too ... too!"
"Even?" lengthening its response.
"Muslim! Not practicing, but not a fundamentalist Muslim. There!" And I told you all! " and finally take a deep breath as will satisfy a hunger for air.

"Well! Indeed! Guy to have a house, five times a day ... ... lies on the ground and shows you in prayer .... my ass is not ... you know, its the best but ...! " I do not know what else to add but it seems that my face has graced more Anna laughs.

We have finished drinking the first cup of coffee, but we need another and this time with the correct grappa. A lot of brandy. "Allah akbar!" my bark is lifting the cup. "Prosit!" Anna replied, smiling again.

We have the same feeling, the same

NAUSEA
:-(