How To Get The Spinning Cross On Mw2

: D

the nonsense I take with a smile that naturally encounter on my way.
Such as feminists. Feminists are a breed in danger of extinction or, at least, they should be. Unfortunately, for I do not know what mysterious reason, they are not. I feel like a girl who are not only entitled to speak but I would feel almost obliged, if I was not too much to do in Australia.
Because of this, I take this opportunity to say that Australia is the last place where the dignity of female patients had a riot. (Of course, this assumes that you completely ignore the third world countries, but if we go for the feminists in the Third World, Judas pig, then there is a reversal of priorities!)
feminists, especially those convinced and especially those who are proud of it, are ridiculous. I say this with all my good heart and with all my ability to be respectful to those who believe disrespectful: Stop. Stop needing to hide behind the bogeyman of Sappho to feel in some way useful to the culture of humanity. Enough with the Austen, enough is enough with Plath and Woolf. You want to be smart, sure of yourself, independent? Well: plant to break the FUCK ALL (figuratively). Make your life, take your rights and duties of these cock beccatevi well, because they chatter chatter about discrimination, but feminism today is not that the stench of the corpse of the machismo of the past.

Then never mind that to be an artist today must indispensably be maladjusted. And to be sure, even lesbians. But this is a wider discourse, a discourse that goes on has to do with literature, especially with the literature of today. My lost sheep, I beseech you in the knee: just write books.
enough to believe the authors.
There are no more artists. Or rather, they are buried by the shit that is continuously published, publicized, and rubbish everywhere. From Twilight and Moccia. I know, I know, you shoot the red cross, you say, but alas, it is.
To publish today is nothing, not even the consecutio temporum. Not to mention the punctuation or the subjunctive.
Then, close friends, if you want to publish, in fact, if published , do not break the Zebedee left and right. Even my 13 year old brother could publish, as it only does so because he likes football more.
Football and literature are more or less the same level today. Totti's just that, at least, knows to be linguistically comic.

Auanzo, you wrung me credit for the very first post ever on this separately. Thanks.
This is a busy post, Gucci, are you watching me? Look at me! LOOK AT ME! : D