hamm
This weekend I took a dip in that of Germany, Germany moooltoooo high ghghgh almost holland in practice! I went to see one of the exhibitions for lovers of Europe's largest reptiles, in fact there was to go crazy in there! I drove 11 hours Friday and 14 Saturday and Sunday night! I ALWAYS change anything because of the corporate machine ... a couple of times Saturday night I was going to sleep = 0 / but it was worth it! here's the new entry in the family!
http://www.sanguefreddo.net/SFNpro/index.php?name=PNphpBB2&file=viewtopic&t=13717
are beautiful right? smakk smakk
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Friday, December 2, 2005
Funny Comments For Wedding Guest Book
Artificial Intelligences (A Snapshot)
Miles of empty in every direction, and center myself.
It must be so that you feel a neuron in the skull of Fallaci, apart from being sick. I have none.
I do not have the money for a taxi, potentially more useful. It's raining outside. A deluge "a la parisienne," ... only with water instead of lead suburbs.
also raining inside, in fact, the ceiling of the hall has more cracks and holes of a heroin addict, but not euphoria. Maybe even in the rain
Fallaci's skull, it would explain many things. Sometimes I wish it would rain "a la parisienne". And are the times in which they are affectionate.
However, I must go home, I have needs that blondes are waiting for me. And to wait for a lager violates my every moral principle. Imagine that the models waiting for me at home.
'm stuck, and the time flies. I do not, then this is also included.
I have no choice. The situation is illogical, the only plausible solution is even more irrational.
Cursing my offspring and wishing myself years of constipation, make up the numbers Andy.
Three rings, a click, a hum softly. A metallic voice.
Voice: "replies the answering machine of Andy. That is me. In effect, the voice is mine. That is, Andy. But technically it's the voice that speaks. With my voice. Wow. Like, do you remember the ventriloquist? Here, the same mechanism, I think. It is as if the voice came out from the belly of the secretariat, where is the box. Like ... any sound. No, that is ... not that I had sex with the secretary, I have not made pregnant ... I think. Anyway ... I meant "I
: " God, take me .... "
Voice: " Unable to process request. "
Me: " But what the heck ... "
Voice: " Unable to hell. To continue in English, say "English". For the English version ... I
: "Huh? ... Er .. English! "
Voice: "Malay is not an option under the menu. Can not find item: Malay. To continue in "
Me: " English, English ... fuck! "
Voice: " Tres bien. Pour laisser a message, dites "Je suis ce que je suis et si je suis ce que je suis, Qu'est-ce que je suis? " " I
: "And if you piss on your hard drive?"
Voice: "Yeah sure, good idea to threaten me, so now you're in deep shit, humanoid."
Me: "What about ... Give me Andy! "
Item: "Costringimi" I
: "I'll kill you"
Voice: "... You and what army, Shirley?" I
: "Formatter your arrogant interface with a double ax"
Voice: " Sublime. You have selected mode "Aboriginal". The remaining menu options will be illustrated with imaginative dances and onomatopoeia. "
threw down his phone temporarily adhering to various religions politestiche, to have more material to blaspheme. Shattered by emitting a heavenly sound, very similar to that of kneecaps accountant on the bumper of a BMW.
I can not wait to buy a BMW.
Andy: "Sorry I was in the bathroom" I
: "What the fuck was that thing? Listen, I wanted to ask ... "
stall. A still image blurred and shaky, a silent film in Aramaic, stuck on a frame indecipherable. Here, I think my face appeared so at that time.
But with Lithuanian subtitles. Lithuanian close. Shorthand.
short, I was puzzled, a painful perplexity. Or maybe it was a blood clot. But I was puzzled. And I breathed wrong. Evil was everywhere, mixed air, then inhaled involuntarily.
Bottom. Plastic and tin. The phone was incongruous pile of nonsense sizzling circuits, a few nanometers from my shoes. But I heard the voice of Andy. You know the feeling of a look behind? Like a knife to the throat, only it's on the neck, and a look.
I turned around with speed and grace and veal, and equal mental acuity.
Andy: "Margarita?" I
: "Where .."
Andy. The door of his apartment. Just behind me.
Others: "Hey, this guy has hung up, I know that does not work well the answer, you know? "
The prophet, that came out of the refrigerator. A few meters behind Andy, in his apartment.
I instinctively looked around for Want to Marchi, Bruce Lee, a team of croquet and dell'Orzobimbo testimonial. Deserted corridor.
apparently had not yet arrived at the gathering of my nightmares.
avran found traffic on the A14. Or maybe I'm still autogrill, Bruce Lee is crazy for Camogli.
Andy: "Will you join us? We have already started the game, but you can have short alley if you like "I
: " You can get a game started, a Monopoly? "
Andy: "I do not know, we played at Risk"
slowly close the door behind us.
I take the dice.
.
Miles of empty in every direction, and center myself.
It must be so that you feel a neuron in the skull of Fallaci, apart from being sick. I have none.
I do not have the money for a taxi, potentially more useful. It's raining outside. A deluge "a la parisienne," ... only with water instead of lead suburbs.
also raining inside, in fact, the ceiling of the hall has more cracks and holes of a heroin addict, but not euphoria. Maybe even in the rain
Fallaci's skull, it would explain many things. Sometimes I wish it would rain "a la parisienne". And are the times in which they are affectionate.
However, I must go home, I have needs that blondes are waiting for me. And to wait for a lager violates my every moral principle. Imagine that the models waiting for me at home.
'm stuck, and the time flies. I do not, then this is also included.
I have no choice. The situation is illogical, the only plausible solution is even more irrational.
Cursing my offspring and wishing myself years of constipation, make up the numbers Andy.
Three rings, a click, a hum softly. A metallic voice.
Voice: "replies the answering machine of Andy. That is me. In effect, the voice is mine. That is, Andy. But technically it's the voice that speaks. With my voice. Wow. Like, do you remember the ventriloquist? Here, the same mechanism, I think. It is as if the voice came out from the belly of the secretariat, where is the box. Like ... any sound. No, that is ... not that I had sex with the secretary, I have not made pregnant ... I think. Anyway ... I meant "I
: " God, take me .... "
Voice: " Unable to process request. "
Me: " But what the heck ... "
Voice: " Unable to hell. To continue in English, say "English". For the English version ... I
: "Huh? ... Er .. English! "
Voice: "Malay is not an option under the menu. Can not find item: Malay. To continue in "
Me: " English, English ... fuck! "
Voice: " Tres bien. Pour laisser a message, dites "Je suis ce que je suis et si je suis ce que je suis, Qu'est-ce que je suis? " " I
: "And if you piss on your hard drive?"
Voice: "Yeah sure, good idea to threaten me, so now you're in deep shit, humanoid."
Me: "What about ... Give me Andy! "
Item: "Costringimi" I
: "I'll kill you"
Voice: "... You and what army, Shirley?" I
: "Formatter your arrogant interface with a double ax"
Voice: " Sublime. You have selected mode "Aboriginal". The remaining menu options will be illustrated with imaginative dances and onomatopoeia. "
threw down his phone temporarily adhering to various religions politestiche, to have more material to blaspheme. Shattered by emitting a heavenly sound, very similar to that of kneecaps accountant on the bumper of a BMW.
I can not wait to buy a BMW.
Andy: "Sorry I was in the bathroom" I
: "What the fuck was that thing? Listen, I wanted to ask ... "
stall. A still image blurred and shaky, a silent film in Aramaic, stuck on a frame indecipherable. Here, I think my face appeared so at that time.
But with Lithuanian subtitles. Lithuanian close. Shorthand.
short, I was puzzled, a painful perplexity. Or maybe it was a blood clot. But I was puzzled. And I breathed wrong. Evil was everywhere, mixed air, then inhaled involuntarily.
Bottom. Plastic and tin. The phone was incongruous pile of nonsense sizzling circuits, a few nanometers from my shoes. But I heard the voice of Andy. You know the feeling of a look behind? Like a knife to the throat, only it's on the neck, and a look.
I turned around with speed and grace and veal, and equal mental acuity.
Andy: "Margarita?" I
: "Where .."
Andy. The door of his apartment. Just behind me.
Others: "Hey, this guy has hung up, I know that does not work well the answer, you know? "
The prophet, that came out of the refrigerator. A few meters behind Andy, in his apartment.
I instinctively looked around for Want to Marchi, Bruce Lee, a team of croquet and dell'Orzobimbo testimonial. Deserted corridor.
apparently had not yet arrived at the gathering of my nightmares.
avran found traffic on the A14. Or maybe I'm still autogrill, Bruce Lee is crazy for Camogli.
Andy: "Will you join us? We have already started the game, but you can have short alley if you like "I
: " You can get a game started, a Monopoly? "
Andy: "I do not know, we played at Risk"
slowly close the door behind us.
I take the dice.
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)