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year can not end without a final delivery of blood. And since this year has done so damn, here goes ...

The truth of the matter is that I do not like Christmas. As a child, and baby Jesus brought me all the gifts that my parents always refused to me for the rest of the year, I loved it. But today, I hate them. Mainly, and I forgive my parents, because they have become the festivities at the home of the Bello-Russian. 5 days of constant drunkenness and disorder in the house. The one that always ends up taking care of drunks and I'm cleaning house.

1. Curse-Christmas begins on December 22 with the arrival of Christmas spirit. To this day my mom already has a December exhibition mounted in the house. Everywhere there are Christmas decorations, the Christmas tree, wreaths, red tablecloth on the table, small deer in the driveway, the jardín iluminado, etc. Un año llegó hasta el extremo de poner un forro de Santa Claus en el WC de nuestro baño. Daba como paja ir al baño, sentías que te cagaba en Santa Claus. Mi casa era como si el espíritu navideño hubiese vomitado por todas partes.
2. El 23 de Diciembre cumple años una de mis tías. Como buena fiesta venezolana, termina con gritos y borrachos. Algo que ustedes no saben es que yo odio a los borrachos, y mucho más los hombres borrachos.
3. Luego el 24 de diciembre noche buena. Misma rutina, inicio sobrio, fin borracho. Lo único bueno es que al menos el 24 me dan un regalo de consolación.
4. The December 25th birthday my mom. This day, to make matters worse, my mom likes to celebrate by sending a pea from 9am. She starts the holidays with a bottle of champagne and finished the night with 3 bottles of champagne on top. I always had to clean up the mess.
5. December 26, at night the whole family comes to my house to "bite the cake my dad" (ie download a case of whiskey) and Friends ñapa engineers, builders of my dad are scored at the commotion. There is nothing worse than when a mob of drunken engineers cling to "the philosopher" of soup.
6. Finally, on December 27 is the birthday of one of my cousins, where he was also "pica a pie."

hate Christmas so much that sometimes I dream about killing Santa Claus.

This Christmas has been, without doubt, the worst of my life .

My teachers are not better idea to put exams are worth 50% of my grade for 3 and 4 January. Who the hell would think to test for the 3rd and 4th of January? Thanks to these sons of bitches, I've had to stop every day at 6am to get to school. What the hell's going to have Christmas spirit? Who the fuck can have the Christmas spirit when you have to read while you sit cause to mourn? Napa And then you have to go out and buy the gifts.

Now I can not get away and buy a gift for every member of my immediate family. No sir. It's my turn to buy the gift for Christmas and birthdays. And there is no worse time to go Christmas shopping. Whenever you get to the mall, no matter what country in the world you are, the first thing you get is that no job. After circling for two thousand hours in the parking lot, including a possible pain in the ass, you get put on the floor - 5, where you have to walk 2km to reach the main entrance. When I finally walk into this cauldron of hell, you realize that the whole damn city is doing their Christmas shopping. Damn Catholic Church, the Coca Cola damn, damn time that people came up with this shit called Christmas. To take a step, you have to give two elbows. For every nudge you give, you get four. So, you end acoñazeado for the moment you enter the store.

As you can imagine, I have not been in good humor. Am I bite people. My aggression has reached a dangerous level that when it comes home visit, my parents locked me in my room where the guard dog, is the only way to prevent someone from getting hurt with my comments. So far, only there were two victims.

French No:

had my card shipment in hand. 17C as clearly stated in the hallway as I like. When I get to my place, there is an old whore sitting in my place. She sees me coming and I do not say anything. She knows she's sitting in my office, but it is getting the willy. Damn. I say in French " Lady, sits in my office. As I see that you are older (old and ugly), stay . "

In theory women always say they are offended "old" but this bitch was unfazed and just said " Thanks" , and continued as usual. Apart from all this miserable was rude. At least I had an apology for abuses, and ultimately should have been pissed. But no, the old French is a fucking whore. I'm about to explode. Not only do I have to spend 15 hours traveling to celebrate a Christmas that I can go to hell, but also I have the unfortunate side to this. Respite. I try to calm down.

Mrs. begins to review the journals that were brought to the flight. Without exaggeration, the chick was 10 magazines: Elle, Vogue, Paris Match, Marie Claire, etc.. I know it's a long flight, but shit, is not it better read a book? Sure the bitch was illiterate and only chose these magazines Photos. Suddenly I see the lady calls the stewardess. What the mother fuck want this bitch? The stewardess comes in and the lady comes and asks "Will newspapers?" What the fuck want a newspaper and magazines have 10 damn? The stewardess comes with Le Monde. The old bitch gets folic face and says " oh, do not have Le Figaro?" . The stewardess and I see, this chick is a crabs.

The old bitch had not finished leafing through the newspaper when I was annoyed. Instead of looking for one of his magazines, found a victim. " has done so cold! Right? "says the old me, like trying to find conversation. I replied "No french." The lady looked at me puzzled and says " But if I just talk in French ???". I answer the same, "not French." Neither pendeja me to be. Just the plane was in the air stewardess asked the English if they had other jobs. When the flight attendant said yes, told me in a tone of compassion. She knew what I suffer if I was sitting there. I took the exit to give a boring old with my package, inadvertently . When I "apologized" I said in French " pardon" .

Crack James Brown

Whenever I'm in Miami took the opportunity to walk on the beach. Every morning and is in final path. The only bad thing is that where road there is a small section which is a nude beach. The amazing thing about this nudist beach is that it is full of fat and old naked men. It's pretty nasty. I do not understand why they do not mind being surrounded by pure naked men. I would feel uncomfortable on a beach of pure women. In these nudist beaches never miss the perverted. I'm not saying that all are perverted, but at least there's always one. This time I got to me the perv. Every time I step out there and try to see, I get an imaginary fixed point and not move my head. But suddenly, something distracted me. An old black man with the James Brown hair, greets me with his hand and then shows me his penis. I of course me horny, because in itself responsible for a global pissed. I scream, "WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK? "Obviously attracted the attention of the people who were around and he raised his hands like" I am innocent. " But everyone knew who the fuck perverted that day: James Brown Crack

My Brazilian Grandma 2

handful of sand in BLUE'S JAZZ (still missing something)

3.bp.blogspot.com/domai_varios1_8.jpg.w300h434.jpg

No, not jazz, but your legs
or laxity that wakes up sleeping
when you're naked and without clothes
let you have an animal later
wind and dryness

But no, not your legs
but the closeness, the way to your waist
circular motion sickness in your hip that I'm
Crazy geometer
open in front of your sex rough
runaway, ready to weather

No, not your waist or your legs but your mouth
autumn and melancholy violins and Verlain
,
your tongue Mediterranean
what amazes my mouth my tongue
domestic
pales to my senses

's late, do zonda, that wind
obstinate and cursed.
The wooden window afeizar
complaint about a jazz session in blue's
My clothes and yours, unnecessary, redundant
atavistic
heat that suffocates us,
happily lie dead.

Kode Za Mount And Blade

need a

The other day I was talking with a friend and she said: " fag, I have more than a month without throwing, I am that I grabbed the wall" . It is not the first time a friend tells me this and I have to keep quiet. I just never know what to say. I can spend months, years, without the waka-waka and did I realize. Would be too drugged to hold onto the wall. I can not help thinking that I'm able to defective factory went wrong. While everyone has to give free rein to their sexuality and wild at least once a month, I tripeo my hysteria. It is no secret that I'm hysterical, but I think if a dog would be just hysterical. Contrary to what they think people like Hector (down Chinese milk), Collective (Hector's boyfriend) and I do not know how many other losers who get offended and then commented on the blog " you need is you someone who will take " , I do not need an egg. But the question is, will I need a Totona?

Now, since my parents, uncles, cousins, I have given the speech " if you are lesbian you're going to want the same " . If ever I become a lame-toti, I promise the next day I'll post on the blog. And if you are homophobic and crude intolerant, anda y lee el blog de Benedicto XVI. Como algunos se habrán dado cuenta, yo no soy el tipo de persona que se queda en el closet. No descarto la posibilidad de ser bisexual, ¿por qué no? Pero como nunca he probado las ostras, entonces mejor me abstengo de emitir un juicio al respecto. Pero sí creo que tengo un lado masculino muy desarrollado. Si hay hombres metrosexuales, sin ser gay, tiene que haber un término para nosotras las mujeres que usamos camisas manga larga y perlas. Aunque no somos muchas, existimos, mujeres que nos encanta los zapatos de goma y dedicarnos a nuestros trabajos. A mí me puede importar un carajo si nunca me caso, pero tener mi Doctorado es un imperativo categórico kantiano, punto. Si lo quieren pensar en términos Sex and the City, "there must be a label for the Mirandas us? Those are always mistaken for lesbians and the men flee because we have very strong opinions. It is as if we had the same Totona than other women in the world. While other women are simple, sweet, pink and soft, I'm pushy, arrogant and hysterical. Capable need a Totona like other women.

This morning when I left the shower and I was in the mirror, I realized that my arms were to be more defined. Yoga classes take 4 up and I'm already seeing results. I put my arms hard to check out and touched my muscle to see if it was hard. When I realized that yes, my arms were the hardest, I was excited like a teenager discovering his first mustache . And there, right then, I realized that yes, " need a Totona."

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