Even this blog has a natural end, is one of my years and suffered the close today with the hope of being able to close even the suffering, and to be able to look beyond. I leave you with just my picture that looks ... beyond.
M entre you bite my neck, I embrace you, with your fingers try to unhook your bra, damn hooks hooked, they were so comfortable the old plastic clips! Finally the elastic doppiacoppa ends in my hands, the straps slide off your arms and your breasts do not bat an eyelid, not an inch down and think, 'This means that they are boobs, "I remember the Cleopatra of Artemisia Gentileschi, a breast perfect. I smile, I look and smile, and probably only your mirror neurons are responding, but do not have the slightest idea of \u200b\u200bwhat I think, and even if you explain it, do not understand. Your hemispheres decorated with small freckles and two nipples orange shake me, grabbed her by force, rapisco, are now mine. I kiss you everywhere, every now and then too impetuous shots for some bite, I take you for life and you lie on your bed, everything is ready, m'introduco in you And in the trouble-free in your home without air conditioning I find the cool your vagina, I feel, seems to silk and you become more serious and a little 'close your eyes and a bit' open them, you grab your ass and you get up, thrust his fingers into the flesh of your ass and you like, I understand nails penetrating my back and around you. You're over me, from the bottom I see the perfection of your chest, the hair that blends in with her nipples and I take you back, your belly to my approach, I want to contact, we turn again to one side, I laugh, and I feel say, "What the fuck are you laughing," and they laugh too; the trot becomes a gallop and then slowly I stop, hold me, you smell, sweaty go out to smoke.
... today released a book called''The Secret''Piazza Fontana-no, the link is not there-and now I write a little ', although without having read it (out today 700pag + = there is no time ...)*. The ANSA
talked about so much, but so much, but so much, that I first went to see who is this Paul Cucchiarelli. A journalistApart Pinelli that during an altercation at the police station falls back through the window substantially, er, "news" is: there were two bombs, one of Valpreda (but would have to explode after the close of bank) and the other of the New Order.
The thesis argues that "neo-fascist Ordine Nuovo, infiltrated among the anarchists and Marxist-Leninist groups in Rome and Milan as early as '68, devised the murder-trap to try to provoke a 'close the democratic system. The neo-fascist project he wanted to fall all the blame for the massacre on the anarchists. "
To me, the first thing that one wonders is, but because the months went to drink and sing" tell me handsome young man "with the anarchists? Why not do as usual, and then put a bomb cyclostyle with a claim to find? What then, you lose time and it is also risky to stay there, make two bombs, to two different timer, going twice ... to bring them comes along ...
Before there were two possible paths: the ridiculous to believe the official version, made up of dancers who take taxi for 400 yards and make plays rail jumping, shouting "Long live anarchy", or search for the masterminds of the massacre and systematic screening investigations between those who govern (va), in that system of communicating vessels, as a drain, it moves below the visible surface. Thanks
Cucchiarelli and also a truth Neapolitans have finally wrapped just for them, that will make them seem foolish enough to believe the official but not blend them with the dregs and subversive conspiracy.
* I do not break off! I rely on anxiety. Are those even the NSA can write decent bend on the book by a journalist of the NSA are not my problems.