Diy Party Invitations Ice Skate

Tonight MTV

Tonight I'll be in the audience of "Tonight, no MTV, new transmission Amber ...

Extracting Two Front Teeth

anything you broken the 6?

TE LO 6 BROKEN? We
it to you:

STRING - Stretch - ENLARGEMENT
SHORTEN - Throw - ORLIAMO - Patch
GROUPER - Buttons - TASCO
Ting - ECC ...

Lgb Train Troubleshooting

Dependencies (Part II) (flashback: Love Can Damage Your Health)

Any reference to people and places existing or real events is purely coincidental.
(The first part of the story is in the post below)

"Hello Charles, good night .. and thanks for giving me a hand ... "

" But I figured Stè, \u200b\u200byou have to carry that huge bass ... and I just my trombone. What do you want it be five floors of stairs in his arms with an amplifier? I need you in one piece for the concert at the 'Bottleneck' the next week. I told [pants] ... it will Venturi room ... and that we can bring in significant speed! Rest. "

" Ok Ca. Thanks. Good night. "

[Carlo winks and walks away. Then, as Stephanie is about to open the door of his apartment, Carlo stops and turns back:]

"Stephen ..."

"Yes, tell me."

"Bravo. Congratulations. I wanted to tell you that since you are 'clean' six really great. Your swing is more reliable ... and now in the groove that you just did not compare with the past. I'm really happy for you. You really managed to get rid of that shit and it shows. And Angela is crazy about you and you are happy. Are you happy, it's nice to see you ... even for a 'beef' like me! "

" Thank you Charles. Now I'm too tired even to blush. Thank you for believing in me ... and ... just, fuck, I say you're doing too many 'thank you' ... ugly infamous "

smile.

"Come soon ... You'll find a subspecies of the female bear you up in that old age will make you even more sclerotic than now ... and beyond. When you find you miss it ... and I will catch up with you ... maybe you will stop smoking as a neurotic, you prick! "

" Ahah ... that kind, thank you ... goodnight asshole Paraculo exploiter of labor! "

Simonsson My name is Stephanie and I have twenty-eight years.

I have an Italian name because my parents were already living in the Salento when I was born. My father Magnus, Swedish, and my mother Cristina, Argentina, had decided to join a small group of relatives of my mother when her parents died in an accident.

I live in Perugia for a decade, ever since I moved there for college.

immediately clamped a solid and bizarre friendship with Anthony, a pukabbestia Matera of the apartment she shared with me for students. We were both fixed-Progressive Rock with him and, after two months of knowledge, I found a job as a bassist in a cover band Pink Floyd. Antonio was enrolled in the Faculty of Foreign Languages, but the only language he knew at the time were those of crap that goes into the room. It was not a dick all day and cane is killed (and I also saw). With him I made the first 'trumpet' of my life and although I had never smoked cigarettes, I became moderately dependent on cannabis. Antò taught me about the location of its pusher of trust, but in reality at that time I was still not good and I bought almost never smoke, content to scrounge every so often the good grass from my roommate (that we know that the grass the neighbor is always good ...). The night I went to the tests of the group, went out drinking at night for rooms with Anto and looking stoned in the morning I arrived for classes in Mathematics.

One morning, in a break-barrel in the yard, I knew Margherita. I do not remember how it was dressed, but certainly wore a multicolored band to hold together his mountain of curly brown hair and lots of piercings including ears, nose, eyebrows, lips and tongue. I was definitely telling a few episodes of the life of Charles Mingus with George and Peter, two of my classmates at that time they were together, and she kept staring at me that way as I listened, rapt. That evening we went for some "Tequila Bum Bum" in a pub to discuss in complete agreement on Quentin Tarantino's filmography, and in complete disagreement on the work of Fellini, laughing numb alcohol for our silly little game of finding people that look like things to roll between the sheets in my bed. Burning our passion like two wild animals for two years and I was the happiest man in the world, or at least I was convinced of it. Until Antonio told me that fucked.

After that even the smallest debris of the world I was falling on me, I left my room in the apartment and went to live with Julia and Michael, a saxophonist and a trumpeter that were made for speed. I started taking drugs seriously and hoped that cowardly to end my life early because I could not bear the agony any longer. I thought it was filled with shit my right, to annihilate, to alienate us from an evil world beyond reasonable doubt. Despite the ruling

acid, the abandoned in favor of Progressive Rock-Jazz, under the heavy courtship of John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Gato Barbieri, Clifford Brown, who not only my two new friends made me listen all day, but sometimes they were just talking to me personally in my moments of madness. We formed a strange instrumental trio and fortunately we found there were several clubs that play live. I needed to play just to earn enough money to buy the doses. Meanwhile I had to practice hard to quickly adapt my technique of electric bass, double bass. I exchanged my phone with a pair of comfortable shoes, little used, so no one could contact me and I began to strive for absolute isolation.

I was told that during a concert in 'La Tana Dell' Orso "I dropped to the ground with a heavy bass thump, and I was dropped from the dais to take punches a chick who, during a moment of distraction her boyfriend, who had gone to order two beers at the bar, had come to slip a note in the package, I had not even read the ticket but that it involved his phone number. She escaped with a broken nose and a black eye, me with a complaint for assault and how a contract (although in reality there was no physical card to tear).

slept little or nothing, morning I woke up crying and I did not trust anyone anymore, not even my father. He wanted to help, poor, and I was bullied on the phone when I called a cab to ask for money. I deserved to be disowned, but fortunately he, at least he, I have never abandoned. Many people thought that 'friend' knew how to reach you, but no one lifted a finger, except for Michael who gave me some dose when I was really bad and you do not expect much in return. I realized that I had always been what he called old friends to know what they are combining, and I definitely felt alone in the world. But one night the world will remember me.

I had gone to buy cocaine and I was walking near Piazza arm Fortinbras, when I noticed a beautiful German Shepherd who played chase a tennis ball and return it to its owner. Or maybe it was a beautiful girl who was playing to launch a tennis ball to his big dog. I did not have too much time thinking about it, because I do not know where it came out at full speed and it was just a scooter on the trajectory of the puppy. I dived instinctively on the dog with a gesture worthy of a good goalkeeper and rolled together on the sidewalk. I stayed for a while 'lying folded on his knee and that I must have crumbled on impact and he did not know if frightened or amused, took a licking the face and then wagging his tail with the damn ball in her mouth. So it was that I met Angelica, that being the wonderful creature that took a walk. I said a thousand times thanks, took me to his house to heal the abrasions, I put a box of frozen soup on his knee swollen and offered me a drink. Smelled crazy and was always smiling. The chair where I had to accommodate was all bitten by the dog.

That evening the dealer did not see me coming and then from there I would never see again.

The rest ... the rest is made of music, of abstinence, sweat, terrible pain, his cozy living room, a sofa that sometimes, unfortunately, I cagarmi saw him, his hugs, his words of comfort and trust, cycling.

The rest is this: I, Angelica, Alfonso the dog, the smell of our house, my scribbles, jam sessions and love.

Now I'm clean, no longer a junkie, but sometimes I wonder if we still, somehow, 'dependent'.