Letter To Hr Generalist

Ghiàvolo Er, ll' and A'gnolo ll'Acquasanta

These verses, I knocked out in ten minutes .....
I was at home with a little 'season of pain (' the infruenza ....) quer afternoon and was randomly 'r priest (Don Giampaolo ..) to bless the' asa and family.
course, not just a simple "Schizzettino" dell'aspersorio Lava 'sins and dell'A'gnolo .....




Ghiàvolo Er, and ll'Àgnolo ll'Acquasanta


the Omo, history speaks, seems to be down to give surprise Adam

and Eve, the woman, 'na on' 'òstola shaped.


Then, a snag, such a result morza apple branch, and from that inauspicious day

peace 'was a PPIU there.


Dé, we're good partners poo paradise!

But who has ffatto is 'da' ar rrètta bifurcate ?


C'avevi of ugni 'dares no need to open the' windows

but you had to ll'invidia pe 'ffòrza clog' ll'ombuto!


How ppòi sees', the common mortal, the story 'a has changed the way

gl'è less than straight, dark and always serves bbuia


and anch'ammé,' ow tte laws that, in sort 'bega m'è is touched!

'por do you know'? Nothing! Bears' need ... and hallelujah!


accidèrba And it takes a tbsp zzampino always! Yes, Ghiàvolo ar!

Giampà Come ... Don, you go to dda 'blessing coll'Acquasanta!


Mah ... quer brush 'on ttre dark for' sins and dell?? We wished but

lla der machine copper! Sa ... cen'è splash so much!

Pumping Water Into Urethra

Invictus

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


Dal profondo della notte che mi avvolge
Black as the Pit from pole to pole it,
thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.


In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud anxiety.
Under the blows of the ax
fate of my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of
shadows

yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the
life.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Invictus, William Ernest Henley

Rashes On Outer Thigh

Monkeys (12) Via

A phone call ... Means communicating with the outside world, is at the discretion of the doctor! No. Hey, hey! If all these misfits telephone for the madness spread through telephone cables, and pierce the ears of all those poor sane people, infecting it, you know? Freaks everywhere, plague of madness ... In fact we are just here. We are just here to be mentally ill. I'm not talking about you, maybe you are, say, you're really jumped like a horse. But that's not why you're here. You're not here for that! You're not here for that! You are here because of the system. See the TV? All there is the issue, the matter is all there. Watch-listen-knees-please! Advertising! We do not produce anything, do not serve more than anything. It's all automated, what the hell are we doing then? We're consumers, Jim! Ah ... ok, ok, a lot of stuff to buy good citizen. But if you do not buy what's up? If you do not buy what you are, I ask you! What. A sick! Mental. Jim is a fact, a fact. If you do not buy toilet paper, a new car, a computerized blender, an electric tool for multiple orgasms, a stereo with headphones you beating their brains out, screwdrivers radar equipment with miniature-embedded computer equipped with voice ...