Dario Salvelli's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook has second thoughts
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Uterine Fibroids Pyriformis
Salvelli Dario's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook it Justin and thinks
Dario Salvelli's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook has second thoughts
Dario Salvelli's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook has second thoughts
Uterine Fibroids Pyriformis
Salvelli Dario's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook it Justin and thinks
Dario Salvelli's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook has second thoughts
Dario Salvelli's Blog »Blog Archive» Facebook has second thoughts
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
9 Inch Ac/dc Portable Tv/vcr
the cart (2) and Justin
Open your eyes Justin did a loud yawn, stretched 'legs and arms, then they wonder' to be still on the seat of his truck. He had not slept much, indeed, perhaps, had not slept at all. He had just closed his eyes for a moment. Open 'the door and stepped out of the truck. Before his eyes revealing 'a scene that seemed tragic. Under the right front wheel of the truck There were pieces of wood decorated with a strange, and nearby, leaning against a wall Fabiano his face in his hands. "Hey, - she said, almost shouting with excitement - you hurt?" Fabiano go away 'hands from her face, looking at him' numb with air, then with a trembling voice stammer ': "... I eehmm? Ehhm ... it sounds bad ... no ... I do not know really ... Ehmmm and you? Are you hurt? " this sentence just whispered, his voice trembling and staring into space made him startled. It was a fortune, almost a miracle to stay alive after the impact. The cart had just entered the freeway and he simply had not seen him. The front wheel had hit the tailgate which had come off and the noise, even in sleep, he woke up the reflections of Justin who had suffered brake is applied.
For this reason he was watching, looking for a reason to justify what had happened.
Fabiano was an irrepressible dreamer. He had painted the sides of that cart. At one time his father had been in Sicily and had raccontanto ancient art of painting the carts. Cosi 'Fabiano had begun by painting each piece of wood which he found on his hands and one day, precisely with the first pay a worker, had bought so much wood to make us a cart. He had decorated using colors that are in the clouds when the sky suddenly from the darkness begins to be clear and the aurora painted pink tufts of clouds drifting in the air. He had learned to use oil paints or dilute with turpentine. The shores of this little wagon was pinkish and orange, with some even hint of lilac and green. The clouds were reflected in blue. It was good to his cart, and had spent months to smooth the wood 'cause he did not wrinkle. Fabiano was happy that afternoon, 'cause it was finally climbed on the cart and was walking with his best friend. But because 'he had decided to cross the road?
The dull sound of wood dragged continued, meanwhile, filled the air. Justin face 'look and saw, far away now, the remains of Carreto the horse, maddened by fear, was dragging on the road. Touch 'Fabiano's arm that she woke up' his anguished stupor and began to scream at the top of his voice: "... MALOOOOOMBRAAAA FERMATIIIII.
2 \\ (continued) 
Open your eyes Justin did a loud yawn, stretched 'legs and arms, then they wonder' to be still on the seat of his truck. He had not slept much, indeed, perhaps, had not slept at all. He had just closed his eyes for a moment. Open 'the door and stepped out of the truck. Before his eyes revealing 'a scene that seemed tragic. Under the right front wheel of the truck There were pieces of wood decorated with a strange, and nearby, leaning against a wall Fabiano his face in his hands. "Hey, - she said, almost shouting with excitement - you hurt?" Fabiano go away 'hands from her face, looking at him' numb with air, then with a trembling voice stammer ': "... I eehmm? Ehhm ... it sounds bad ... no ... I do not know really ... Ehmmm and you? Are you hurt? " this sentence just whispered, his voice trembling and staring into space made him startled. It was a fortune, almost a miracle to stay alive after the impact. The cart had just entered the freeway and he simply had not seen him. The front wheel had hit the tailgate which had come off and the noise, even in sleep, he woke up the reflections of Justin who had suffered brake is applied.
For this reason he was watching, looking for a reason to justify what had happened.
Fabiano was an irrepressible dreamer. He had painted the sides of that cart. At one time his father had been in Sicily and had raccontanto ancient art of painting the carts. Cosi 'Fabiano had begun by painting each piece of wood which he found on his hands and one day, precisely with the first pay a worker, had bought so much wood to make us a cart. He had decorated using colors that are in the clouds when the sky suddenly from the darkness begins to be clear and the aurora painted pink tufts of clouds drifting in the air. He had learned to use oil paints or dilute with turpentine. The shores of this little wagon was pinkish and orange, with some even hint of lilac and green. The clouds were reflected in blue. It was good to his cart, and had spent months to smooth the wood 'cause he did not wrinkle. Fabiano was happy that afternoon, 'cause it was finally climbed on the cart and was walking with his best friend. But because 'he had decided to cross the road?
The dull sound of wood dragged continued, meanwhile, filled the air. Justin face 'look and saw, far away now, the remains of Carreto the horse, maddened by fear, was dragging on the road. Touch 'Fabiano's arm that she woke up' his anguished stupor and began to scream at the top of his voice: "... MALOOOOOMBRAAAA FERMATIIIII.
2 \\ (continued)
9 Inch Ac/dc Portable Tv/vcr
the cart (2) and Justin
Open your eyes Justin did a loud yawn, stretched 'legs and arms, then they wonder' to be still on the seat of his truck. He had not slept much, indeed, perhaps, had not slept at all. He had just closed his eyes for a moment. Open 'the door and stepped out of the truck. Before his eyes revealing 'a scene that seemed tragic. Under the right front wheel of the truck There were pieces of wood decorated with a strange, and nearby, leaning against a wall Fabiano his face in his hands. "Hey, - she said, almost shouting with excitement - you hurt?" Fabiano go away 'hands from her face, looking at him' numb with air, then with a trembling voice stammer ': "... I eehmm? Ehhm ... it sounds bad ... no ... I do not know really ... Ehmmm and you? Are you hurt? " this sentence just whispered, his voice trembling and staring into space made him startled. It was a fortune, almost a miracle to stay alive after the impact. The cart had just entered the freeway and he simply had not seen him. The front wheel had hit the tailgate which had come off and the noise, even in sleep, he woke up the reflections of Justin who had suffered brake is applied.
For this reason he was watching, looking for a reason to justify what had happened.
Fabiano was an irrepressible dreamer. He had painted the sides of that cart. At one time his father had been in Sicily and had raccontanto ancient art of painting the carts. Cosi 'Fabiano had begun by painting each piece of wood which he found on his hands and one day, precisely with the first pay a worker, had bought so much wood to make us a cart. He had decorated using colors that are in the clouds when the sky suddenly from the darkness begins to be clear and the aurora painted pink tufts of clouds drifting in the air. He had learned to use oil paints or dilute with turpentine. The shores of this little wagon was pinkish and orange, with some even hint of lilac and green. The clouds were reflected in blue. It was good to his cart, and had spent months to smooth the wood 'cause he did not wrinkle. Fabiano was happy that afternoon, 'cause it was finally climbed on the cart and was walking with his best friend. But because 'he had decided to cross the road?
The dull sound of wood dragged continued, meanwhile, filled the air. Justin face 'look and saw, far away now, the remains of Carreto the horse, maddened by fear, was dragging on the road. Touch 'Fabiano's arm that she woke up' his anguished stupor and began to scream at the top of his voice: "... MALOOOOOMBRAAAA FERMATIIIII.
2 \\ (continued)
Open your eyes Justin did a loud yawn, stretched 'legs and arms, then they wonder' to be still on the seat of his truck. He had not slept much, indeed, perhaps, had not slept at all. He had just closed his eyes for a moment. Open 'the door and stepped out of the truck. Before his eyes revealing 'a scene that seemed tragic. Under the right front wheel of the truck There were pieces of wood decorated with a strange, and nearby, leaning against a wall Fabiano his face in his hands. "Hey, - she said, almost shouting with excitement - you hurt?" Fabiano go away 'hands from her face, looking at him' numb with air, then with a trembling voice stammer ': "... I eehmm? Ehhm ... it sounds bad ... no ... I do not know really ... Ehmmm and you? Are you hurt? " this sentence just whispered, his voice trembling and staring into space made him startled. It was a fortune, almost a miracle to stay alive after the impact. The cart had just entered the freeway and he simply had not seen him. The front wheel had hit the tailgate which had come off and the noise, even in sleep, he woke up the reflections of Justin who had suffered brake is applied.
For this reason he was watching, looking for a reason to justify what had happened.
Fabiano was an irrepressible dreamer. He had painted the sides of that cart. At one time his father had been in Sicily and had raccontanto ancient art of painting the carts. Cosi 'Fabiano had begun by painting each piece of wood which he found on his hands and one day, precisely with the first pay a worker, had bought so much wood to make us a cart. He had decorated using colors that are in the clouds when the sky suddenly from the darkness begins to be clear and the aurora painted pink tufts of clouds drifting in the air. He had learned to use oil paints or dilute with turpentine. The shores of this little wagon was pinkish and orange, with some even hint of lilac and green. The clouds were reflected in blue. It was good to his cart, and had spent months to smooth the wood 'cause he did not wrinkle. Fabiano was happy that afternoon, 'cause it was finally climbed on the cart and was walking with his best friend. But because 'he had decided to cross the road?
The dull sound of wood dragged continued, meanwhile, filled the air. Justin face 'look and saw, far away now, the remains of Carreto the horse, maddened by fear, was dragging on the road. Touch 'Fabiano's arm that she woke up' his anguished stupor and began to scream at the top of his voice: "... MALOOOOOMBRAAAA FERMATIIIII.
2 \\ (continued)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
... More Condition_symptomsconversion Disorder
cart
To drive a truck, you know, you need a special license. Not everyone can - and they know it - to drive, but driving a cart is something less formal.
Of course if you do not know the horse that drags you on the road, it could be even more 'dangerous than driving a truck, but we think the simple things, for once, not necessarily to complicated ones.
He was a poor man at the mercy of the road, on board, in fact, of a truck. He drove
already 'hours and sleep, as well as' hunger, began to send your brain signals of impatience. But he would not stop. A few more hours and would arrive at their destination. In his house, where he would, by now not too anxious, a good wife and children.
His wife's name was Rosa. Rosa was married to Justin, a truck driver for years now that many did not take into account, but the nights spent with him, that the count could: have been, yes and no, fifty. Always out, he always in the truck. Now for a load up in Belgium, then to Germany for another.
lived as the almost separated him about his truck, she always below the house and the two brats. So they continue to call Justin who had not seen practically grow.
Sleep, then, shouting to sue orecchie: "basta! per favore, fermati. Giuro che, se non metti ORA una freccia e ti fermi al primo Autogrill, comando al cervello di chiuderti gli occhi e, sta' sicuro, che non potrai riaprirli presto!! Il primo muro che incontriamo.. SBAAMMMM .. sarà la tua fine!". Lo stomaco, di rimando, commentava: "e non parliamo del bisogmo che avrei io di digerire qualche sostanza nutriente!! Ma io dico, come puoi pensare di andare ancora avanti cosi'? HO FAME!!". Ma Giustino non voleva sentire ragioni. Macchè fame e sonno! Io vedo già la camicia da notte della mia Rosa. Sento già alle narici il profumo del brodo che lei cucina così bene ... Ah com'è profumata la casa quando la mia Rosa cucina la carne in brodo!!".
As if he was there, the steering wheel in hand, thinking the house olezzzante broth cooked from her pink ... a sudden noise made him jump. It did not have time to think, to understand where it came from that dull sound, thunderous, almost crisp, like the noise it makes the foil covering a plate .. say boiled meat prepared by Rose, to stay on topic.
What followed the story to you, but Justin did not hear him more already. Sleep, as he had forewarned, had commanded him, without further notice, the brain, to close your eyes, just as Justin savored the smell of a tasty dish of meat in broth. That the damage was more 'serious, because if he had seen with Justin his own eyes that the crowds, on board a cart pulled by an old bay horse, he had decided to intervene between his truck and his dream, he swerved, he braked. Would have had some reaction. Instead of Justin's eyes were on the plate of meat and broth in the cart ... under its wheels.
truck drivers have these little lack of attention, you know. Because they are always on the go and, perhaps, sometimes, are wallowing in the fact that the road is clear, that the medium is large, and that. 2è easier to see a very small half than vice versa. "
Malombra, however, the horse did not know that Fabiano was taking him on a fast road, where trucks are at 90 per hour dreaming of a hot stock.
A small country road, gave, in fact, access to the freeway. Fabiano wanted to try to run once, run on a real road. Challenging, perhaps a truck.
1 / (continued) 
To drive a truck, you know, you need a special license. Not everyone can - and they know it - to drive, but driving a cart is something less formal.
Of course if you do not know the horse that drags you on the road, it could be even more 'dangerous than driving a truck, but we think the simple things, for once, not necessarily to complicated ones.
He was a poor man at the mercy of the road, on board, in fact, of a truck. He drove
already 'hours and sleep, as well as' hunger, began to send your brain signals of impatience. But he would not stop. A few more hours and would arrive at their destination. In his house, where he would, by now not too anxious, a good wife and children.
His wife's name was Rosa. Rosa was married to Justin, a truck driver for years now that many did not take into account, but the nights spent with him, that the count could: have been, yes and no, fifty. Always out, he always in the truck. Now for a load up in Belgium, then to Germany for another.
lived as the almost separated him about his truck, she always below the house and the two brats. So they continue to call Justin who had not seen practically grow.
Sleep, then, shouting to sue orecchie: "basta! per favore, fermati. Giuro che, se non metti ORA una freccia e ti fermi al primo Autogrill, comando al cervello di chiuderti gli occhi e, sta' sicuro, che non potrai riaprirli presto!! Il primo muro che incontriamo.. SBAAMMMM .. sarà la tua fine!". Lo stomaco, di rimando, commentava: "e non parliamo del bisogmo che avrei io di digerire qualche sostanza nutriente!! Ma io dico, come puoi pensare di andare ancora avanti cosi'? HO FAME!!". Ma Giustino non voleva sentire ragioni. Macchè fame e sonno! Io vedo già la camicia da notte della mia Rosa. Sento già alle narici il profumo del brodo che lei cucina così bene ... Ah com'è profumata la casa quando la mia Rosa cucina la carne in brodo!!".
As if he was there, the steering wheel in hand, thinking the house olezzzante broth cooked from her pink ... a sudden noise made him jump. It did not have time to think, to understand where it came from that dull sound, thunderous, almost crisp, like the noise it makes the foil covering a plate .. say boiled meat prepared by Rose, to stay on topic.
What followed the story to you, but Justin did not hear him more already. Sleep, as he had forewarned, had commanded him, without further notice, the brain, to close your eyes, just as Justin savored the smell of a tasty dish of meat in broth. That the damage was more 'serious, because if he had seen with Justin his own eyes that the crowds, on board a cart pulled by an old bay horse, he had decided to intervene between his truck and his dream, he swerved, he braked. Would have had some reaction. Instead of Justin's eyes were on the plate of meat and broth in the cart ... under its wheels.
truck drivers have these little lack of attention, you know. Because they are always on the go and, perhaps, sometimes, are wallowing in the fact that the road is clear, that the medium is large, and that. 2è easier to see a very small half than vice versa. "
Malombra, however, the horse did not know that Fabiano was taking him on a fast road, where trucks are at 90 per hour dreaming of a hot stock.
A small country road, gave, in fact, access to the freeway. Fabiano wanted to try to run once, run on a real road. Challenging, perhaps a truck.
1 / (continued)
... More Condition_symptomsconversion Disorder
cart
To drive a truck, you know, you need a special license. Not everyone can - and they know it - to drive, but driving a cart is something less formal.
Of course if you do not know the horse that drags you on the road, it could be even more 'dangerous than driving a truck, but we think the simple things, for once, not necessarily to complicated ones.
He was a poor man at the mercy of the road, on board, in fact, of a truck. He drove
already 'hours and sleep, as well as' hunger, began to send your brain signals of impatience. But he would not stop. A few more hours and would arrive at their destination. In his house, where he would, by now not too anxious, a good wife and children.
His wife's name was Rosa. Rosa was married to Justin, a truck driver for years now that many did not take into account, but the nights spent with him, that the count could: have been, yes and no, fifty. Always out, he always in the truck. Now for a load up in Belgium, then to Germany for another.
lived as the almost separated him about his truck, she always below the house and the two brats. So they continue to call Justin who had not seen practically grow.
Sleep, then, shouting to sue orecchie: "basta! per favore, fermati. Giuro che, se non metti ORA una freccia e ti fermi al primo Autogrill, comando al cervello di chiuderti gli occhi e, sta' sicuro, che non potrai riaprirli presto!! Il primo muro che incontriamo.. SBAAMMMM .. sarà la tua fine!". Lo stomaco, di rimando, commentava: "e non parliamo del bisogmo che avrei io di digerire qualche sostanza nutriente!! Ma io dico, come puoi pensare di andare ancora avanti cosi'? HO FAME!!". Ma Giustino non voleva sentire ragioni. Macchè fame e sonno! Io vedo già la camicia da notte della mia Rosa. Sento già alle narici il profumo del brodo che lei cucina così bene ... Ah com'è profumata la casa quando la mia Rosa cucina la carne in brodo!!".
As if he was there, the steering wheel in hand, thinking the house olezzzante broth cooked from her pink ... a sudden noise made him jump. It did not have time to think, to understand where it came from that dull sound, thunderous, almost crisp, like the noise it makes the foil covering a plate .. say boiled meat prepared by Rose, to stay on topic.
What followed the story to you, but Justin did not hear him more already. Sleep, as he had forewarned, had commanded him, without further notice, the brain, to close your eyes, just as Justin savored the smell of a tasty dish of meat in broth. That the damage was more 'serious, because if he had seen with Justin his own eyes that the crowds, on board a cart pulled by an old bay horse, he had decided to intervene between his truck and his dream, he swerved, he braked. Would have had some reaction. Instead of Justin's eyes were on the plate of meat and broth in the cart ... under its wheels.
truck drivers have these little lack of attention, you know. Because they are always on the go and, perhaps, sometimes, are wallowing in the fact that the road is clear, that the medium is large, and that. 2è easier to see a very small half than vice versa. "
Malombra, however, the horse did not know that Fabiano was taking him on a fast road, where trucks are at 90 per hour dreaming of a hot stock.
A small country road, gave, in fact, access to the freeway. Fabiano wanted to try to run once, run on a real road. Challenging, perhaps a truck.
1 / (continued)
To drive a truck, you know, you need a special license. Not everyone can - and they know it - to drive, but driving a cart is something less formal.
Of course if you do not know the horse that drags you on the road, it could be even more 'dangerous than driving a truck, but we think the simple things, for once, not necessarily to complicated ones.
He was a poor man at the mercy of the road, on board, in fact, of a truck. He drove
already 'hours and sleep, as well as' hunger, began to send your brain signals of impatience. But he would not stop. A few more hours and would arrive at their destination. In his house, where he would, by now not too anxious, a good wife and children.
His wife's name was Rosa. Rosa was married to Justin, a truck driver for years now that many did not take into account, but the nights spent with him, that the count could: have been, yes and no, fifty. Always out, he always in the truck. Now for a load up in Belgium, then to Germany for another.
lived as the almost separated him about his truck, she always below the house and the two brats. So they continue to call Justin who had not seen practically grow.
Sleep, then, shouting to sue orecchie: "basta! per favore, fermati. Giuro che, se non metti ORA una freccia e ti fermi al primo Autogrill, comando al cervello di chiuderti gli occhi e, sta' sicuro, che non potrai riaprirli presto!! Il primo muro che incontriamo.. SBAAMMMM .. sarà la tua fine!". Lo stomaco, di rimando, commentava: "e non parliamo del bisogmo che avrei io di digerire qualche sostanza nutriente!! Ma io dico, come puoi pensare di andare ancora avanti cosi'? HO FAME!!". Ma Giustino non voleva sentire ragioni. Macchè fame e sonno! Io vedo già la camicia da notte della mia Rosa. Sento già alle narici il profumo del brodo che lei cucina così bene ... Ah com'è profumata la casa quando la mia Rosa cucina la carne in brodo!!".
As if he was there, the steering wheel in hand, thinking the house olezzzante broth cooked from her pink ... a sudden noise made him jump. It did not have time to think, to understand where it came from that dull sound, thunderous, almost crisp, like the noise it makes the foil covering a plate .. say boiled meat prepared by Rose, to stay on topic.
What followed the story to you, but Justin did not hear him more already. Sleep, as he had forewarned, had commanded him, without further notice, the brain, to close your eyes, just as Justin savored the smell of a tasty dish of meat in broth. That the damage was more 'serious, because if he had seen with Justin his own eyes that the crowds, on board a cart pulled by an old bay horse, he had decided to intervene between his truck and his dream, he swerved, he braked. Would have had some reaction. Instead of Justin's eyes were on the plate of meat and broth in the cart ... under its wheels.
truck drivers have these little lack of attention, you know. Because they are always on the go and, perhaps, sometimes, are wallowing in the fact that the road is clear, that the medium is large, and that. 2è easier to see a very small half than vice versa. "
Malombra, however, the horse did not know that Fabiano was taking him on a fast road, where trucks are at 90 per hour dreaming of a hot stock.
A small country road, gave, in fact, access to the freeway. Fabiano wanted to try to run once, run on a real road. Challenging, perhaps a truck.
1 / (continued)
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