lately I have been to draw
, some of my creations I will leave,
so that everyone can criticize
and so know what you think .....
, some of my creations I will leave,
so that everyone can criticize
and so know what you think .....
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Chevrolet Silverado Ss For Sale In Calgary
Someone will die on Sunday
Sitting in his living room, a graying man playing with the barrel of his revolver. A few minutes before a ball has loaded. Only one. This revolver supports six. It is now pointing to his temple. Try not to think about anything. In its front line is drawn anguish. Separate the striker. His sight is lost. His lips are dry. Close your eyes, strong. And shoot.
The bullet did not exit. He does not smile but no regrets. Open your eyes. Watch the drum immutable. Spin it thrice. He raises the gun and points to his mouth. Her hand shakes. Breathing hard. His finger slides on the trigger.
Just then, a key noise is coming from the street. The lock clicked and the door opens. It is his wife. Sign euphoric. In his right hand flutters a lottery ticket.
Just a block away, a child plays ball on the sidewalk. Alone. The game consists of kicking the ball against a wall. It's noon, and this time, everyone is getting ready for lunch or siesta. There are cars or people on the street. The mother calls him but his voice is a hundred feet from the sidewalk, after the front door after the aisle, behind the apartment door F.
Neither can hear the engine of the truck because it is still quite far. The ball bounces off the wall and the child manages to intercept. If you drop it on the street lost a point. And if you go look for his mother would challenge. But his mother is and he has managed to kick again.
The truck is quickly approaching. The mother walks down the aisle because the child has not responded. The hit of the ball becomes too oblique. He gets no child's foot. The truck crossed the intersection, the ball crosses the cord, the mother opens the door, the boy stretched his hands for the ball, the mother cries, the van slammed on the brakes. The boy falls.
grizzled man had left his revolver on the table after seeing his wife enter the ticket lottery. They embraced. All your problems are solved by a game. The man had come to celebrate the backyard. He pointed the gun at the sky. Broke the hammer. Once triggered. Triggered twice. The bullet left in the third shot. Then he heard the screams braking and around your home.
was not for the truck. The child now has a bullet stuck in his shoulder and a dark red puddle wets the street. The mother weeps at her side. The man in the truck has been lowered to help.
But the child did not die this time. May live for many years. I felt sorry for removing it from so young ... and today, still, is a fabulous Friday. 
Sitting in his living room, a graying man playing with the barrel of his revolver. A few minutes before a ball has loaded. Only one. This revolver supports six. It is now pointing to his temple. Try not to think about anything. In its front line is drawn anguish. Separate the striker. His sight is lost. His lips are dry. Close your eyes, strong. And shoot.
The bullet did not exit. He does not smile but no regrets. Open your eyes. Watch the drum immutable. Spin it thrice. He raises the gun and points to his mouth. Her hand shakes. Breathing hard. His finger slides on the trigger.
Just then, a key noise is coming from the street. The lock clicked and the door opens. It is his wife. Sign euphoric. In his right hand flutters a lottery ticket.
Just a block away, a child plays ball on the sidewalk. Alone. The game consists of kicking the ball against a wall. It's noon, and this time, everyone is getting ready for lunch or siesta. There are cars or people on the street. The mother calls him but his voice is a hundred feet from the sidewalk, after the front door after the aisle, behind the apartment door F.
Neither can hear the engine of the truck because it is still quite far. The ball bounces off the wall and the child manages to intercept. If you drop it on the street lost a point. And if you go look for his mother would challenge. But his mother is and he has managed to kick again.
The truck is quickly approaching. The mother walks down the aisle because the child has not responded. The hit of the ball becomes too oblique. He gets no child's foot. The truck crossed the intersection, the ball crosses the cord, the mother opens the door, the boy stretched his hands for the ball, the mother cries, the van slammed on the brakes. The boy falls.
grizzled man had left his revolver on the table after seeing his wife enter the ticket lottery. They embraced. All your problems are solved by a game. The man had come to celebrate the backyard. He pointed the gun at the sky. Broke the hammer. Once triggered. Triggered twice. The bullet left in the third shot. Then he heard the screams braking and around your home.
was not for the truck. The child now has a bullet stuck in his shoulder and a dark red puddle wets the street. The mother weeps at her side. The man in the truck has been lowered to help.
But the child did not die this time. May live for many years. I felt sorry for removing it from so young ... and today, still, is a fabulous Friday.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
How To Tell If Someone Masterbaits
escaping from their mouths to show off and be noticed. As there were very noisy all decided to leave in an orderly fashion every 5 minutes to realize once and for all that feelings need to breathe. Sigh after sigh, followed and uniformly managed to be heard, they achieved their freedom and his friends managed to get the feelings of that little box where they were hidden.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Born Blonde Toner Instructions
Crucifixo
an atheist tells you:
the greatest revolutionary in history
Jesus of Nazareth
could not do without your computer without your Judas
or 
an atheist tells you:
the greatest revolutionary in history
Jesus of Nazareth
could not do without your computer without your Judas
or
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