Husky/standard Poodle Mix For Sale

Sunday, January 2
1993, the year is over dirty. I do know that I reserve the nascent, but I bet nothing more terrible can happen. Unless, of purgatory, I sink body and soul in hell.
I reread the first few lines written in 1993: that good resolutions, which failed abyss.
In my rabbit hutch, rue Vercingetorix, Purgatorio my I repeat, I have to take essential part of my responsibility. I am not alone, but almost. Legally, I I'm erected at the head of all these ruins to prevent the people I love are reached. I do not know if this will suffice.
I'm 24 and I feel that moment as a total break with the evolution of my tormented life. Weakness, amorality, losing genetic defect which leads me so low, resounding in the fall. If everything was properly
place, I am currently manager of a thriving publishing house, beginning to nibble with an insatiable appetite for European markets, vice president and president of a GIE gathering promising companies. My future wife, Kate, beautiful as a goddess and loving to my side to support me in all the trials and foibles of ambition come true. The ultimate victory would have been able to leave the heim leisure to devote himself to the world of ideas, writing, and all the arts. Take over, that's what was the goal.
Reality? In a public housing as a Purgatory, I am preparing to take on the series of bankruptcies in the majority of the group companies, my calendar fills up an appointment with justice, may soon be with the police, and then bars why not! demolition contractor called himself Leon Bloy. I myself am a true, a lecture!
I saw as a child, then a young man model for many. Here I am become a man missed. What a lesson! That is where intellectualism recognizes supreme in absolute inability to apply the powerful sermons uttered.
I make it out? In any case I would try to channel my energy into that.
I do not really feel desperate. My status is ambiguous, between indifference accountable, an amorphous disgust and despondency of one condemned to death. I tickled from time to time to let shine a smile.

Monday, January 3 With a female voice
fairy Ornella always touches me so. This girl, I know that through his voice sounds, moves in me the most braised feelings. It looks like a goddess: 1m77, 56 kg, fair as the sun burning, blue-gray eyes, face sirènéen , a wasp waist. Phew! phew! Mirage perhaps. Friday, January 7


Beauty of the world and happiness do not light my skies. I do not judge me even more worthy of pamphlet, if it does not concern my own failing. How could I still support a critical while I have all failed. Sense of humor, a tad, business acumen, to the gulf, the meaning of life, I did, if I ever had. The pages of lamentations enough.
Positivism, chanting souls constructive. The will to fight suppose to armholes, some fibers shivering. Poor passion for this world I do not understand. I'm like a fish on the bank. My excitement only accelerates my loss.
Raise head, clenching fists and balls forward, face these formative events. That's the only plan worth. Without fuss or convolution.
I would try to avoid whining pathos for the next meeting of scribouillage . Since my
Purgatory, I join the stars for a few hours. Saturday, January 8


Focused like a cyclops egocentric on the decadence of my fire micro-empire, I abandoned the national and international drama of the moment.

is in the precincts of the cathédralesque Sainte-Genevieve, library of his condition, parked vertically in anticipation of a wooden chair, I do not give 'll browse the torments that tense on all sides this year rising. How is France
balladurienne ? Wet in its ruts, streams and rivers that découchent, nature makes mud pies on a few buildings at the bottom of a mountain: nothing wrong in our tempered hexagon. The generosity easy
not able to ubiquity, we can not even provide a few canisters Maousse to Australia who sees his beautiful Sidney threatened by flames. The powerful
Tito's Yugoslavia is dying today in full freedom barbaric. Where fratricidal guerrilla s'étripe by religion and for a few yards of ground to conquer. Fabulous show from beyond the grave.
The "Great Machine" Castrato Supreme of effective action and the severity applied washes out day by day the blue forces. So much so that large caps are screaming to humiliation: licking understand that turning out in this country deserted by hygiene should not be more lurk activities.
Aparté in the Great Hall of the Saint. Master of masters of the pen incandescent, Leon Bloy offers some impetuous in his newspaper pieces pamphleteer Pal.
On the Republic of 1870: "The decay of the original bastard of all is cowardly to throw the universe. Jezebel of brothel, cutthroat of filth, grotesquely fattened for fornication, bestiality of any cad was satiated in her arms and looks like some very ancient Lust might have painted on the wall of a tomb. "

Monday, January 10 0:40
. Lying in my Purgatory, waiting for my soft contact lenses are cleaned by deproteinization greedy, I blacked out a bit.
I just finished typing the list of creditors of the sebm I'm back today to judge, under the receivership of the company. The mechanics of the wind will soon begin. Drama series he'll have to assume and manage the best we can. With the company's debts and bank debts owed amount to more than four million francs. It is not the disaster zone of a second, this case!
Dawn on the phone. Full review. Charming, but I do not know where this relationship takes me. Kouchner
the small screen, for the umpteenth time the guest of Sinclair. Humanitarianism glitter, he recalls his tunes without noticing any change. His phraseology is often a tendency to irritate me. Thursday, January 20


No good hair tonight. Bent on a Compaq prehistoric coming out of co-production contracts on a no cooler printer pins, the beast crashes. "Error 1701 disc," to pretty much, tells me she's on screen. I am furious. My evening's work botched, and the fear of a future resurrection unlikely. Dirt modern world.
I am back with more craft occupations: smearing my paper with small squares.
Incorporated telephone contact with some girlfriends faculty wishing them my warmest wishes. Elodie
D., charming young lady who spends most of his time Apec (Anpe frames) to perform some research. Pretty little blonde, the bob, a blond Californian, she has literally transformed by the love encounter. A little chubby before, its forms were slender, her character became stronger in sweetness. In a very pleasant company.
Sabrina L., exiled in Nancy, bubbly and delicious girl known Deug law at Paris I, we promised we would see when I bring back the original book loaned to the library by Seru Epinal. Fresh and detonating his contact reinvigorate the most apathetic of fatalistic. Touching affection from him, she had sent a small greeting card at the Chateau d'O, what I learn on the line, leaving less and less of my Purgatory.
Valerie S., tall, thin, pretty blonde, but not all: especially brilliant. Known for purchases of law books that I have made my debut, we sympathized and held the bonds. It just came out top of his class in the contest of CFPA. The lawyer here. She came to Paris in March to attend a small ceremony presided by the Chief Justice of the Court of Cassation, to which are invited all the majors this competition in France. We'll see at that time.
Anne L. brown doll, frail-looking and pearly skin. Discreet, perhaps shy, she is currently participating at the show on fashion which leaves him no time. We'll see you soon. Vania C.
, the big brown Carole Bouquet, who called me first. Always delighted to have him and see. I.
Lamia, an old acquaintance of first-year law student, long brown hair, eyes beautiful colors, but elusive. Of Moroccan origin I believe, it always seems to have a thousand cares to solve. Very nice and soft. Aline L.
to the end. My oldest friend. Since the sixth grade to high school in Cergy St Christophe we follow. She has already appeared in this newspaper when I described the features of presumptive behavior. Very pretty and equally brilliant student, she seems set to love. We will meet soon.
Wow what a catalog! And yet I have not violated any. This need for contact is obviously to compensate for the huge emotional void inside me that sex and, dare I say ... Dawn has been a sham and a scam Ornella sentimental.
I must however not stun me of projects: most of these girls are already installed with someone. So here I am
income my loneliness starting with a progressive sense of loss of charge. Saturday, January 22


That queue time, without abate my torment. Carried away by a train towards Laon coral, I'll spend my Sunday in Au, for retyping the homestead. This is the last link I try to keep my family of heart. When I would return
actor of my life? I am fortunate not to be bothered by any disease, and I feel more apathetic than comatose. Shot down? Even more. Aware of the power chromosome shaped my destiny disaster.
Getting through the bulb.
Los Angeles was shaken to its foundations. Seconds expression for the plates to California land worth mourning for 55 of his souls, 8000 to treat wounded and 150 billion francs to find to repair the damage. We say thank you to the San Andreas Fault ... until next time the Big quake, one that will engulf the state.
On the other hand, Washington and the surrounding area to chill like a pole. Descents, from less than thirty least forty, ruthless for more than 150 people dead. There, time is no longer just a topic of conversation at the merchant. Sunday, January 23


Still on track for this session of writing. Back to Paris, after the passage stealthy, but oh so refreshing at the castle.
Saturday evening, Karl train, I readily confess to La Loco in Saint-Quentin, instead of techno-dance-rock Funko and drinking in order. Hours défoulatoires unpretentious to forget quickly. Note the gag obsessive Karl get disc jockey broadcasting a piece of java accordéonisé refined by Andre Verchuren to be invited to dance a little blonde mignonette probably conquered the feat unthinkable. The gag will remain embryonic.
Today's transportation mess with Hermione blights the future chamber Sally destinations more appropriate. Sticky, humid weather, your wishes! Heim
me around the rooms including the renovation is completed: the lounge, enhanced by murals, portales more precisely, Mary, by the many paintings that the lining, the soft atmosphere of serenity here. Office, bedroom and bathroom to lay out, warm room.

Pddj Red 5.2 Build 1023

January February March

Friday, February 4
Peronne in the Somme. I get out of the Industrial Tribunal which I imagined as the legal representative of the seru cons Valerie F. and cons Odilivre Catherine L. Cases of nonpayment of wages to which I objected undertaking demolitions carried out by interested companies against Martine Dugant scuttled. Convened at 14:30, my two cases were exposed only after 16 hours. Even the province's courtrooms bouchonnent. Before we
, talented or drunk lawyers give life to employer-employee conflicts banal. In the present batch of employee ass earth, earthy par excellence, offers a spectacle worthy of the farcical antics of bad boulevards. Muttering in his double at the pleading of his representative, he gets up from time to time and bellows out "Master! "The President and starts dozing at the very young lawyer of the defendant:" Your evidence, you can sit on it! . My
state, stationary? Not really. I spend my days just to manage the gradual annihilation. Builder opens a new perspective for me. I'm off to the National Library, the soul ethnologist, to exhume the works of scholars dealing with communities during the Revolution. Embryo Project, I must undertake: survey and contacting City Hall, booksellers, cultural associations, press and sponsorship. Variety of exciting activities. I hope that since my Purgatory, I know that grabbing the pole Heim me tense.

Sunday, February 5 at
away, my Purgatory approaches, and all thanks to the station.
Saturday, with Monique, Alice, Hermione and Karl, further removal of a castle on the other. CLEARING the House Guard, including the room dusty and cluttered with old furniture, archives, rat droppings and dead insects or leaking. Biscottos the heat all day. The spirit of derision situations, strong at first, calm markedly with the approach of increasing fatigue.
The evening trip with Karl La Loco in Saint-Quentin. Still curious to observe the relationships with young people like us in playful and superficial, which often makes a sexual misery, night clubs. The
cromagnonnage , concentrated impulses and behaviors of primary homo sapiens sapiens , finds a breeding ground.
Do not rely on the apparent relationships that sketched out, no credit for any sign of interest that there seems to carry us on pain of being, a moment later, wizened the more inconsistent figure lost in the smelly night swarming.

Above all, for Whore Hole to give its meat to sniff in a dress exciting. While there remains healthy girls, but the middle encrusted round a dislocation and ultimately, they accommodate themselves drift microcosmic. For
Soft Bite part is more tricky, especially when not accompanied by her Bitch at home, but only other Big Soft. Charm alone does not pay for the buck. He needs a sense of initiative and contact a good practice to expect beyond the circle of mindless rivals.
The Bitch in Trou, in small type well placed to put in asset value, without penalty reigns in this dark realm of illusion and delusion. Soon a swarm of Big Soft revolves around the long pair of shapely legs wrapped in nylon mesh or black, fleshy butt wriggles who wish to warm the reproductive instinct of the poor sucker sweating, chest bulged after the rhythm, nipples forward curves enticing.
A real treat that this decadent basement decibels.

Thursday, February 10 1:33 am. No sleep horizontally in my purgatory. It is in these moments of serenity in the silence of the night, I can practice my few fundamental analysis.
twentieth century in the last decade, several thousand years of human history and nothing seems to change behavior in the instinct of my contemporaries.


Saturday, February 12 2:43 am. Rather brief my fundamental analysis, hey! hey! The duffel has had no trouble because of my pompous thoughts in embryo.
Tonight promises to be more inspired to draw some Roman letters on these small squares of paper. Marchant
frequently in the capital, I am excited by the amount of pretty girls, touching their pretty features that exist in this world. And to think one of them could make me the happiest of men, and blast my heavy loneliness. I have not the talented boorishness for drunk in the middle of the asphalt.
The guy did not survive long under the spell of dreams. I missed my train this morning to Amiens.
Last lap of the removal of a castle on the other. After 17 years of occupation by Heim and his household, the house will be home to more conventional lives. Hermione and Alice invest the house Julie, Monique arrived at the castle Au, Karl expects to roll in the areas of the national army. Burst necessitated by the material and geographical contingency. My Purgatory, I'm not proud.
Tonight resumed Tchou-Tchou backwards to find my decadent Lutece. At the end of the dock should expect a young woman in her thirties known in a corner of National Library, in the heyday of my historical research for the seru. Young law student at the Sorbonne, I found it in a sort of fellow, as it was preparing a dissertation on the influence of Encyclopedia in developments revolutionaries.

Exiled in Lyon, she returned to the capital for the weekend. We could miss our friendly reunion. I will host for the night in my Purgatory section spare bedroom.
press back into service in the countries blue-Kakiese of UN forces. NATO will play the shooters ear if, in ten days, the bad Serbs have not walked their heavy artillery to 20 kilometers from the bloody Sarajevo. It was time that we grognions.
between religious fundamentalism and the guerrillas of clans, we are still at the dawn of the pale year 2000, stuck in the most archaic behavior. When will human intelligence evolve Does a tad, just to stop the terrible tragedy we offer daily body scarves, tripe air, massacres ever again?
Sisyphus, crushed by his mouth fucking rock, has only to behave themselves.
18.20. Departing for the return. Dusk mass celestial reluctant to be transmuted into sky, stretching toward the horizon in pastels of pink, all topped by a few stray stratus.
The Horns of info on Canal + suitable anesthetic and soporific powers to Prime Minister. It is clear that if international politics tantalizes the most hardened of our analysts, internal affairs over the flow-reforms, without making too vague. Here lies France, in full national recovery. It is no longer live together, but a sweet fusion. If this can help provide some punch to our hexagon and its satellites, encourage the unusual union of hoary Socialist and Gaullist smooth. The eddies are so
the relief of an encephalogram corpse that the press gives leftist political events in the senility: "And if Fanfan visualized a third time in elections? . The killer question! Arrg, no! no! pity, not Uncle scary.
Finally, who do we laugh? And why not establish branch Mitterrand to embody the French sovereignty. We went back into the twenty-first century conducted by the apparatchik of the Fourth Republic regonflé blows infusions before his rare outings? Really do not care, these journalists! Monday, February 14


Balladur, our life and soul being Prime Minister, this evening we came forward with his natural sparkle The moment of truth on France 2. I could check on room its soporific effects. After a half hour sermon wise and measured greeting, his voice became unintelligible and his suave father m'alourdit irresistibly eye. And yet, how many were serious and fundamental Topics: Unemployment France, NATO ultimatum, rescue pension ... All this fully justifies a shift in proper uniform . Balladur hard, yes! Note
my reunion with the Nadette bn. Charming and bubbly young woman who stayed home to bed Saturday night, after having made me discover a quaint Russian restaurant in the 15th Street Letellier. The scents of vodka, magnified by our many cul-sec , I was tickled the senses like a revelation. The character of
Nadette is much to what I like in a woman: authenticity, joy, lightness when it should, serious at the right time, uninhibited humor, generosity of heart, momentum to the other, complicity friendly, attentive softness ... among other virtues. We'll meet again very soon.

Wednesday, February 16 At
domain bargains I could be crowned emperor. Despite the financial difficulties of the moment, I could not pass up the opportunity: the dictionary in five volumes of Emile Littré edition of 1875, in good condition, for ... 800 F. I thought that this finding jewels in auctions, now they offered me on a platter. I give it very soon Heim who wishes for decades.
Received today a letter from Mr. Nadette the bubbly, to whom I responded immediately. Our epistolary relationship begins on hubcaps. She calls me tonight to get news and inform me not answering my business trip, on which she wanted to save a stupidity of his own. I think we're really meant to be lasting friends in madness as in reflection. Given the rapidly
Sollers writer on the show Gildas on Canal +. He seemed to enjoy his intellectual superiority, to look for common undrinkable.

************
Paris, February 16, 1994
ithyphallic Nadette,
When Big picnickers have decided to invest the Minitel rose cracra we resisted, we knew what kind of people we were dealing with: beings collapsed by renunciation, an existential distress, failed relationships, in a word, soft. The only anything that pointed at these poor guys pain girly, you guessed it ... Better than nonsense, my expression, a little bold and explosive, is an illustration of the disharmony of these sickly minitels first generation. We, at our level, tried to change that nature.
In front of me, the treasure of 1875 in five volumes of our favorite Emile. Beautiful and old, these volumes (and Jerry of course!) Belonged to a journalist in penury, forced into selling furniture and bourgeois property following the collapse of the newspaper he had created computer. I not had the indecency to negotiate the sale price of Littre, already widely expected. We're all on a razor blade, and the balance disturbed, everything collapses. That's what inspired me the poor man.

Atla, atla, the days pass and I have not had a moment to dedicate myself to our starmaniaques seats.
It delights me to come my ranting nonsense in your school. I hope you can soon tell me the themes.
I wanted to thank you for your pleasant and enchanting company, I would appreciate that we create more these wanderings in Paris, heated or not a vodka to the twelve scents.
Feel free to email your refuge from Scotland.
Always yours, very friendly. ************

Paris, February 18, 1994 Dear poet
culinary
to Friend of fragrant
The Little Mangy Tares (translate PTT) Lyon are at least as much merit as those of Lutece. Through their professionalism stamped, I can mess that day, my beautiful white paper to respond to your letter bubbly.
Your invitation to eat some grub in your company does will not rhyme dead. I do promise to bring my bib large capacity and leave my shoes in the closet Picardy. My
pun flush with Hannah & Barbera you were not too scared, I hope. Forgive this big booby just emerged from the Sandcastle. "Not the ferrule ma'am! j'recommenc'rais atest! "Stop
lightness infantile fart-poop-pudding! Question everything ablaze healthy neuron is finally out of the cutest blue beads: Is it the product of what has been experienced? Phew. It depends if you have soaked in juice or smelly Dew fragrance. For a tad less messing around: the genetic power is impressive and the number of events that one has to be experienced live depending, of course, external factors, but mainly in relation to our own genetic instinct. Phase
illustrator: if you get a big stone on the face, fell by chance or by necessity, regardless of genetics. If, however, we see the poor bugger squashed by the stones, our reaction, then lived future will depend mainly on our deoxyribonucleic acid.
That what is our relationship epistolary in germ, and does not stain: to discover all our faces in sincerity and humor.
soon in my mailbox. Your attention
"prankster". ************


Sunday, February 20 The correspondence with Mr. Nadette going well. Received on Friday a new one-page letter and a half of the newly researcher at CNRS. As galvanized by the invigorating force of his remarks, I started straight out in front of my white paper and pen before I traveled at the speed of the ink dried horizontalities offered inspiration to my wandering.
gas explosions at the headquarters of Canal +: Noisy departure of CEO founder Andre Rousselet, a few months before blowing out ten candles from one of the most prodigious achievements audiovisual. Comic-tragedy politico-economic-media, ok! ok!, the septuagenarian friend Fanfan did not buy the entry into force of new shareholders in the capital of the string, old stumps enemy as France Telecom. The guignolades have, for once, like the cave scene sacred and nurturing of turbulent whistleblowers defects and evils which proliferate. Health and welcome to the club!
start for the Castle Au. to the train station of Laon. The J5 flat out on the winding asphalt cold. Surrounding the snowfields beautify the fields of agriculture.
This afternoon, I found, by browsing through my boxes in the attic, some texts written at the time of the Gulf War. These columns were spawned after the publication of the collection Large picnickers.
I note here, so they are safe:

Solution venal

November 2, 1990

grown since the upheaval just three months around evils of big bad new crop requires some tweaking fist.
Saddam Hussein certainly has all the bases. Powerful and mustache like Stalin, fast and determined as a Hitler, SH offered in archetypal demon synthesis.
If the Israeli pilots exploded like a power plant, nuclear power everywhere, I would not go whining on his porridge. The monster
Baathist nevertheless has a gaggle of apology.
A war against Iran would exhaust fans Nebuchadnezzar himself, even fed gunpowder to the West.
"Only had to start! "Gives me a keen opponent of strain.
"Still plancha that Iran seriously destroy the most insidious to commit in the region "I frustrate you with a natural cut the Strait of Hormuz. The decline
grotesque panorama makes the Iran-Iraq successive penetrations of each ballet of aggressive offensive jokes, flashes of offensive-and-cons offensive revanchism; bap-poetic warfighting systems, since the Six Aurora launched by the privates of Imam Khomeini, to Wars marshes or ... tankers, yes already! ; The unfortunate attempts at reconciliation of Olof Palme small UN good offices cluttered.
hygiene bloodshed is needed per cycle.

This proxy war has largely served both Great stationed in fla-fla diplomatic. More is needed to rant on arms sales that s'opérèrent with the goodwill of leaders eager to reconcile international principles for good figure and gains for the lowest, in terms of scholarships. Hackneyed topic ... motherfuckers if I dared! France on familiar.
Iraq has paid with his people. One million men at the foot of Saddam does indeed seem to be gifted as mowing the fields battle: just see the lack of popular revolt to the announcement of reconciliation with Iran. Yet there is one full story Brindezingue phase delirium! The oppression by the Iraqi militia? The collaboration of the oppressed does not help.
fought Iraq and other Arab countries have failed to refer a barrel. Ruined country, the instinct of his master is not wrong target: Kuwait is a piggy bank, not just large heavy-full-of-soup, and provides a direct outlet to the Gulf.
The money is indeed the rationale of Kuwait. Do not speak of state, let alone a nation. Let us take for poor topmen of Poulaines bums on Clemenceau would not surprise me: the beautiful lesson in hypocrisy of pretending to enforce international law in this artificial protuberance. Work
the English colonizer, Kuwait declared independence in June 1961: Iraq claims it bluntly as "integral part" of the national territory. The dispute is as old as the rump juicy itself.
Upon the announcement of the invasion, the United States, as the hooker claiming virtue or morality Mitterrand, undermine international law to carve out the makings of a vigilante of the globe. Ignore their history and their I-am-care less for the purposes rules enshrined in the UN. Bush scolds, sure of himself, the others follow. If some of the motivations
commotion combat elude us, the perceived interests stink enough to suspect of being the international reaction not based on values gueulantes trotted out to great fanfare in the media.
The threat to other Arab countries? On paper the addition of potential military only Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Syria, UAE and beyond to graze their arms and those for men of Iraq. Without motivation or determination, of course ... The place of artificial
some Arab leaders, at the sole buyers oil, driving people into the man who dared defy the economic colonizers. There is danger, yes, but for business.
is the case of big money, power and gumballs.
The cramp is on the horizon. I stop here my account of these stacked guignolades.

Here lies for laughs

If vapors winter transit the country, my fignard exhales him a 37 ° 2 of thunder. Beineix can go die in the gutter. No
fevered rants tonight. Time for a moon, I forsake the depths of Paris and stinks-death . In the cotton to
reeds, I display a wealth of more gray in rising to the surface. Breathing like a great way of drawling, loud cough which completes a groove in tatters, not slamming on the rate of leakage, j'infiltre mist without penalty, the pores just annoyed.
Nothing tries my thoughts. The news, odds and pitcher of chiasses global activates more at home urticaria nerve on edge, this rage to crush those who foul life. I'm hatching the blazer of my dislikes, or chtuc COMAC of depression.
War and peace are woven into spheres Foreign Thatcher dropped her coat without being destine with stitches and backwards; Bez fucked! refrain of the day on the zinc bistro big red.
All this inspires me a big sniff. The way I
morose pliers. Actions, thoughts stream: this applies not only to realize that there is to be oneself.
Probe Enthusiasm relieves the ego. Freud would not have said it better.

the Strennas Fanfan
(Written between Christmas 90 and New Year's Day 91)

I take this in-between parties for change in tone. The victuals are likely to go wrong for the new year, but I can not stay marble, warm under the petticoats.

Fanfan mité we concocted of presents on air écharpées flesh. A payroll that they were waiting, our new going-in-war socialist.
If all the guys in Carpentras and elsewhere could fuck hand in its mouth.
All those years of humanism sticky, tolerance clobbered, calls liturgical dialogue have served only one thing: after a decade of power cushy, old Fanfan, the past not always transparent, may decide consciousness in the destiny of our country and the lives of millions youth. That achieving democratic happen ...
What is brewing in the Gulf does not concern us at all. For
Fanfan la rose, entered the war in France will be motivated and limited by international law. Who can believe that the bellicose Bush has such good intentions? U.S. President we will show that these so-called global principles boil down to the fittest.
case to enforce a number of rules built as fundamental, our President can immediately send its 58 million citizens to fight for a good cause, starting against all the countries of the Near East, Israel and the United States themselves. I even wonder whether it should send a small commando clean its own ranks.
Imagine that hundreds of thousands of men end up in the sands Arab carrion. Our leaders will look to go end justify the slaughter by a few smoky principles against the most basic of them: the right to life. The only dignity that remains to Francois Mitterrand will be to put a bullet in the back of the throat. Hope this never happens.
Fighting is done for sound reasons, such as defending his country against the invader, but certainly not going to release a state-owned land for own interests strategic and financial.
At this price, no legally can not force young people to experience the atrocities of the pipe puzzle. What
professional soldiers and volunteers go eat the nasty Arab duty for some, the right for others. But
commandeer human lives, a terrible time to return to the cannon fodder, would be an unforgivable abuse of power.
Mr. President, do not follow the example of the United States and its rump English.

Act of War

For a while, I was going to miss my priesthood big picnickers. War Gulf is celebrating its 26 days old, crackling form of air, and I did not find a bit of time to stumble.
Blame my gluttony information: I left to sediment the daily pittance but could not purify his comments in the form of flatulence chilly.
The Gulf War is the developer of a pitiful humanity.
Drama, Gong UN, set by a grotesque scam moral de Cuellar will not take long to sense, has adorned the future conventional Allied barbarism of international legality.
My first thoughts, despite growing anti-humanism (or misanthropy rampant as you want), go to the innocent victims of heaven explosives, including Iraqi civilians, Israeli and Saudi Arabia.
Again, it is the mass of soldiers killed is likely to stir the peoples of our soft democracies, and to stir up passion and hate committed the massacre in snags of Islam, the extremist course.
While they are confined in the air, allies can make it look a transaction of gentlemen, a war in white gloves, so to speak.
soon blood abundantly poured into our ranks, and the laws of war impose its terrible purpose.
Misfortune is currently focused on several major Iraqi cities bombed and the family s cudés and soldiers killed. (The example of the seven victims of their own sea missile is a sordid comedy.)
The horror, as it will be broadcast by the media, if indeed they have the means, is yet to come .
The reasons for this conflict have nothing shining and certainly do not deserve the sacrifice of human beings. Think of France, for which the small claims Mitterrand as a great power! 1% of air raids, 15 000 700 000 men: our soldiers are being massacred for the symbolism. It could have been limited the sending of our old Fanfan Arab in the sand. It was beautiful with her little backpack full of the dust of the Unknown Soldier.
The gagging of the media, it seems necessary for political and military leaders, is no less worrisome for the content of what will make history in 50 years. The principles developed here or there will be reduced to the only Christian charity usa negotiations after the war. If
simple flight operations are available with such opacity, particularly with regard to their results, imagine the confusion that reigns in hysterical ground fighting. The Battle of Khafji is the pitiful figure.
Thus was born, by clearing the ground for all sorts of rumors that haunt the newsroom and, if left unchecked, will pass soon for historical truths.
Bush, his white Bear and his Chief of Joint Staff s'attellent to let go of the strong beast. If the urge takes
Emir Jaber al-Ahmad al-Sabah going to reign in the upper reaches of its territory, we can help them with a great shot latte in the plump: the air of Kuwait are free .
For the rest, since it refuses to clean atomic, it will initiate bilateral war, the flesh that kills at hand. Bush will then reach the power deleterious progenitor, interposed by Iraqis, for boys gutted. Comprehensive economic program! And Saddam Hussein
there?
Bloodthirsty tyrant like any self-respecting, it has been over a decade that his talents. Implement the baassisme in a country where the majority population is Shiite (like Iran) it can be done in the marshmallow.
Saddam must enforce and impose its views: the determination in the horror is the only way he knows.
Still, success is complete and would drool over an officer fart in démoucratique : November 13, 1982, four million Iraqis fill the streets to support his regime.
support, yesterday allies in its fight against Iran, as a catalyst of Islamic fervor, can only reinforce it in today's practice.
Intelligence is easily reconcile with acclaimed tyranny, Saddam Hussein understands is the strength of the Persians in battle galvanizing by nationalism and religion. Hence, its current strategy: to be limited to military coups until the melee. Also, why take the risk of major ground offensives, doomed to annihilation by aviation allies, when Israel launched Scud simple enough to sanctify the eyes of the Arabs and to provide worldwide coverage?
Do not doubt that history made in West Manichean make him an honored place among his demons. The Arab world, He will long Saddam in his heart and he will remain a key figure as more than an average American will not put a function on the Bush family name. I
wanders, my mind wanders ...

Dresden In The Gulf

With less than a resurrection of the Iraqi martyrs, the operation gams Desert have had a birth twilight. The silence, charged as a language of wood, now overlooks the battlefield.

most distressing in this bloody epilogue: Bush, Major and Mitterrand, draped in a trio torchonneuse legality, will try to careerism infatuated winners. Saint
Mitterrand is no shortage of giving us once again the good word. Sands trampled him dérouillent jaw. Bordering on aggressive manhood with his handful of journalists black-out workers , it drives bluntly questions just teasing.
Big deal that shaped his litanies breath of drivel. In history as a thief decrepit, it is trying to Vaseline on the agenda of his master Bush: Saddam's skin.
Doping media did not prevent the liquefaction of Iraqi troops. Faced with the fury of the allies, the great Saddam has led a struggle stammered. The most ferocious killer of Arabs? Bush no doubt: nearly 100,000 dead and wounded according to initial estimates. Destruction and humiliation: the guardians of law have a high sense of justice.
wait negotiations for postwar ideas clearer. The principles of paper mache leave room for interest quickly dashed. We will have destroyed a country and a people without bruises take care to balance the region. The oil promotion, puppet Kuwait more fortified than ever, finding routes extremist terrorists after an instant rebate ... and Allah knows what surprises.
avoided the carnage in our midst does not change the murky mixture of our leaders. The victory, of course expected, should not obscure the dirty process of anti-Saddam clan. If some pessimistic predictions have not realized, humanity is still taking a bad shot behind the ear.
************
Paris, February 21, 1994
Dear Sabrina,
The weeks pass and my precious book on the Vosges, that I must convey to Epinal, is still held in Czechoslovakia. By the same token, my visit to the depths Nancy could not take place. A glimmer of release of the original work leading to the horizon, however.
I hope the hard work student brings you all the satisfaction earned by the sweat poured.
I am, myself, new browser at the National Library for projects republication of works on the history of the localities under the French Revolution, a new collection that I must attend.
I look forward to seeing you again, you and your companion. Whenever I am in possession of the old book, I call you to arrange an appointment.
Good luck and see you soon.
Very friendly.

************ Thursday, February 24
Seen yesterday evening Bernard Tapie, the first guest Backstage destiny, the new issue of journalist Guillaume Durand. Which character, duffer! Dexterity to communicate through the media is almost fascinating. As these large marine mammals wonderfully agile in their midst natural, beautiful beast Tapie develops its aura and surfs the crest of the media leaving the pallid small screen as gourdiflots suckers.
contrast, Durand, the rebel of the wick, offers a boil alabaster sweating, a dubious aesthetics, and just manages his own anguish of Philippe Tesson Quotidien de Paris, came s' try at odds with the Bernard seems to have been unearthed for the occasion and should be frightening to small children. The basket from a union between our old journalist and Fanfan, although I suspect the complete lack of attraction between the two remains, have all chances to win the grand prize of Avoriaz. That was for a laugh. Saturday, February 26


Departing for Au, loaded with a hodgepodge of tax forms for statements of SCI and its eight partners.
Currently, the Winter Olympics in Lillehammer. The Sports Minister, in his characterological trends and state of health, to boil or to adrenaline under him. Poor old! His athletes cold, powder snow at the rink, will pick up with the stubbornness of suicide, leaving all the medals hanging in other necks. Do they still have that bitter chocolate snack. As soon as the game ended, frictions in the ears will be on the agenda.
Jean Sablon died. The first French singer to help the micro dragged a serious illness. Syracuse and went to bed ... Sunday, February 27


Terrible day. Heim goes very badly, both physically and psychologically. Financial problems are beginning to extend to the sci, which may not be able to honor its commitments. Suffice to say that Heim is hit directly into his flesh. Between the deadlines for ending months of Histodif, contributions to Reprographics to Santerre, and personal obligations (sci, taxes, food ...) we will have necessarily painful choices. Peugeot 505
In bringing us to the station of Laon, Alice, Hermione, Karl and I do knuckle, each in its desperation and its concerns. Maybe I would have preferred me Heim cassata mouth ... tension had been less unbearable.
Heim is at every moment in danger of death. Heart ailments, sugar, blood: Protests and rates often reach extremes that would kill any person normally constituted. Despite the myriad of tests, the will to live is stronger than Heim at all. Tonight, however, we felt a mixture of weariness a furious and ready for more fighting ultimate solution: to blow his brains out, if the shame is too great. What degree of misery will bring us the apparent inevitable decay of life. And if we, children of blood or reported, could not live human height. What will happen? How long Heim Will it withstand and resist? What solutions to find and implement? We resist external attacks and our own mediocrity, where Heim join the Christ of the property? Tears in eyes and big ball instead of the uvula, I can eradicate from my mind these questions.
Asshole at my level, stuck in my unfathomable nonsense, I am troubled with my small means.
Ownership of Au, while we finally just left the castle of O, inspires more and more bad things to Heim. Feeling of absolute isolation, a finding of disobedience increased staff incompetent and inefficient to produce something other than wind alone Hermione responds to the expectations of Heim.
Gloomy outlook ...
We did review the 17 years at O: wealth and poverty, happiness and unhappiness, unions and separations. Land subsidence are becoming more frequent, trees are uprooted by storms ever ... self-harm is growing, as if we were to stay forever its last guests.

************
Miss M. Nadette
[...]
Ehkidd
Edinburgh Scotland
Paris, February 28, 1994
Dear friend, It
small lights under the green National Library that I dirtied this paper.
I got your message on my answering machine crumbling, reminding me of your weekend before the flight to our beloved Scottish neighbors. For me these two days have been rather awful, cluttered with multiple worries.
I am not in a pleasurable turbulence, especially after what I just read. I promised to find a book on Lyon in the revolutionary period, it's done: the work, published in 1883, comes from the Baron Raverat. What he refers to me in the idea that WE, FRENCH, have nothing to envy NAZI & fascists of all stripes that they swamp us ears. Our horror, our barbarism equivalent to at least their genocide. Here are the facts reported
held on behalf of Human Rights, two hundred years ago, which is not even the addition of three full lives.
Guillin Dumontel-old governor of the place, was repeatedly beaten, to defend his people and his kingdom, and kept physical traces. Vermin revolutionary persisted in wanting to eliminate their leader, not as enemy warriors and loyal, but like beasts atrocious barbarism.
The governor, a refugee in his castle with his wife and children, killed them first before they reached the front. Transported by some municipal officials, the enraged crowd and slobbering not want not leave him alone in his agony: a sudden fork in a cul Couzon earth, "an old peasant kills him shoulder the edge of his scythe, each he wants to plunge his sword into the throat (...) we repeat that we shall kill him as his wife and children to turn off this infamous race . [ Written in 1887, does not own a genocide? ] a young man of Curis, more human than others, the completion of an ax. "Here begins
the inconceivable horror that would make almost marshmallow death camps, and children of their heart facilitators" Guillin is hardly dead, that his tormentors rush, dismember the corpse, they would share the tattered each wash their hands in blood of black powder, while others, incredibly, Wheat ! to dip their thirsty lips, ears were torn, the smoking entrails of the victim, it will be decorated as a trophy and rosette, and finally, one carries on a pike's head detached from the trunk to the show as I do know how indescribable it prepares to feast Chasselay. "
All these details have been thoroughly reported in the procedure who was educated in Lyon after the event.
Taine, Historian serious a priori, recounted the episode in which these unspeakable feast devoured the heart and the flesh of the scarf governor.
This is what will our democratic regime ... Long live the Republic! Vive la France!
Sorry for the darkness of my remarks.
hope to regain your sparkle .
your friend. ************

Is There A Condom In Between Normal And Magnum?

Friday, March 4
Departing for Chaulnes. At 15 o'clock I see Mr. Gerald, the driver-courier for an interview prior to his redundancy.
Balladur is on the downslope. The gaffes are cumulative. The case of Air France, fishermen, Andre Rousselet, and finally the contract employability alias SMIC-young : GAUCHARD and unionists blister this pittance to sustain their waning influence. Nevertheless, the Balla., Ultimately, has its soft belly to the protesters becquettent to satiety. The family man, good as good bread, could be a victim of his wisdom wait. In
Nadette the phone. Did not look very jouasse in Scotland. Must return to our land Monday. She will visit the Saturday after. Hopefully, this time not having a case of force majeure causing the cancellation of all.
back to Paris. Supertramp
me canarde eardrums and I find myself some melancholy. No love, no passion has caught my existence since the end of my story with Kate. Nothing that has lasted, anyway. No news of the girl, since October 1993. She would have died it would be the same. For his part, she probably received in his mailbox a flyer touting the reissue of a book on Lagny. Brief demonstration of our ongoing activity.

last track that I keep her in my wallet: a check for 350 francs dated October 10, 1993 to my attention, as reimbursement for I do not know what expense. How symbolic! When one considers the millions of francs heavy lost because of our negative relationship.
I write with interest that in moments of excitement or revolt. Where serenity settles, I have taste to speak, for lack of utility. I would be very hard to become a worker the pen, as Flaubert or Zola. For me, this exercise is a demonstration of guts. The guts of my apple did not at that moment, not much to sink your teeth. Would there be in me a slight tendency to cyclothymia?

************
Miss M. Nadette
From train bound for Paris, March 6,

Precious friend,
The harvest was late but abundant: your letters of 24 and 28 February, one born of gentle heat Lyon, the other hatched near the Scottish humidity are both fell Friday in my mailbox . There are feats of our public services that can not be explained. This agonizing uncertainty of the date of Akim-ment of our pieces of paper must be agents for yellow supreme art form, although qu'insi-gods, or even pernicious. Do not reticent to the subtlety of language, crénom!
you going to come back to me with a form clanking, and not the mug of woven plaid? Your voice, during our last telephone conversation, I foreshadowed the most flourishing of existential fantasy. For
mézigue pasty (expression from us) weekend in the land in search of dead twigs and small branches torn from their home by storms swirling. Believe the beast that I am strong: it removes rust you the armholes to none. Fresh air ducts cleaned campaign respiratory handcuffs tamper good rich earth of our country, just to give good-looking nails dreary and the wriggling snout the end, to better absorb the savage fauna and flora of the park. Rural picture, I admit, but oh so refreshing for the soul déschématisée . Apart from these escapades
, nothing very edifying, and even less transcendent to narrate. Hectic week in perspective. Tuesday and Wednesday Epinal and Nancy will be played my presence on Thursday, I will sail between Chaulnes and Peronne, Friday, if all cases of force majeure shall be muzzled, I devote entirely to Lyon.
you very quickly. ************

Tuesday, March 8

Bloy "soft as a moth ..."
In the train to Nancy, I read Four Years of Captivity in Pigs-sur-Marne of Leon Bloy. Here is what I extract:
"I have often thought that many people one sees here and there, are actually dead, exhaling a smell of dead pit, with body attitudes. How are they live in the Ministry or Parliament? One drawback of the least observed universal suffrage is to coerce citizens rotting out of their graves to elect or be elected. The President of the Republic is probably carrion. "What
dark delight to read in this style cataclysmic ideas always at the height of the news.
Other literary gem of violence in an article in the April 21, 1903, against men of the press, entitled "The Aristocracy of Mackerel :
" By dint of degradation, journalists have become so foreign to all sense of honor it is absolutely impossible now to make them understand that the vomiting and after I vomited, they were furiously réavale for defecation: the corporation is housed on this floor of ignominy in which consciousness can discern more what it means to be a bastard. "
Good god How good PURGE!

************ A Miss M. Nadette
March 8,
From train for Nancy

My favorite traveler,
As we journey both hamlets in the towns, capital cities and villages, allow me again to scribble a few things at a little over sixty miles an hour.
As you can imagine, I am in no way fooled harm and atrocities of the revolutionary order, and this has been my most comfy cradle. Very small, I played with my brothers and Chouans sister heart, determined to be ashamed of the blues. Me, I incarnated Cadoudal, a major figure Chouan with Frank Charette and Jean Cottereau. I had clearly chosen the camp of the white flag and the cross in the heart of the final solution against vermin Jacobin and Republican. My name is not for nothing ... Crauze

Tonight, I am greeted by an old friend Nancy at the Sorbonne that shines, like you, by his keen sense of life.
delicious moments for me: the mixture of pleasure is on my shelf now. For the ears, the last delivery of Phil Collins, inspiring melodies. To view and additionally (!) mind Ungrateful Beggar's cataclysmic Leon Bloy, in an edition of 1948, still untouched by reading. It was in cut-paper that I need to open and discover the pages. Almost as sensual as opening a fruity lady ... The preliminary
have not been useless reading your second letter of Scotland have me very stimulated to scratch my turn to the pen. Thank you.
look forward to seeing you at Lutece.
your attention. ************

Wednesday, March 9
G. Gilles, a law professor at the Faculty of Nancy, is in front of me, throwing his wise words and sounding in the overheated air of the auditorium TR02. Duffer what a story! Here I am, for one morning in the company of the lovely Sabrina, the student returned stiff material. Wise, too wise prof! Nothing attractive in its phraseology. While serious, competent, it is undeniable, but not a blade farting fire.

sorbonnards At the time, during my first year of Bac, I was fortunate to have constitutional law the flamboyant Jean Gicquel. Despite his penchant GAUCHARD, I was captivated by his words, his ability to transform concepts for murals the least soporific, his pace but still colored with humor, cynicism and jokes. For the only interest that led us to listen, we retain much more profound and lasting it would have been without this oratory, to cram big shots sweats.
I continue playing the martyr Leon Bloy and came across this new account:
"8:40 am, train employees. Those people who know each other, come, invariably, a small bag or small basket in hand for lunch at the office. They shake hands and the beginning of the year to the end, share the same platitudes in where they are buried, after they pretended to die. "Terrible and pathetic
fate of ordinary mortals, what Heim gathers under the category of plants shit flapping their occupational activity.
In an unpublished article under promising Revenge of the Vile , this definition of car driver, "a motorist is ambitious A premeditated murder." It's been ages since I am con-cient to live in a world of criminals.
Decidedly, aphorisms abound in our earthy despair: "There was, formerly, the wonderful selection of Blood and Soul has named the aristocracy of virtue. There are, today, the selection of money that occurs naturally aristocratic idiots and murderers (...). "Go
, two more beautiful formulas:
" The painters have the power to be heard by the eyes. "
" The Prophets are people who remember THE FUTURE. "Thank you Leon!
I understand why, some years ago, Heim asked me to wait until they matured before the first reading of Bloy. His agony, misery more deep passing day, terrifying the reader, but the extreme difficulty in life is transcended by a desperate revolt.

The ungrateful beggar receives few francs a very young child, André Martineau. The Rabid wrote him concerning this word:
"My dear little friend. You are the benefactor of Leon Bloy. It's one thing you still can not quite understand. But if keeping this letter, you read it again in twenty years, when the poor Leon Bloy is underground, you will weep with pity at the thought of the terrible life of this writer so unhappy. At the same time you will weep with joy when you remember that you were given the power to console a few hours. "What
his misery? Read thus: "We're starting to do more to feed children. Sending a letter necessary, thirty cents, bleeding in the middle carotid, a stream of blood! .

************
Paris, March 11, 1994,
Dear Sabrina, dear Fabrice,
This little letter as a testimony of my gratitude for the friendly service and attention that you m ' have booked. Kindness and gentleness of your exhale couple are good for the soul a little vague, a sort of tonic.
As I explained to you, Sabrina, does not value small dirt that few envious of passage could send you. Only your authenticity must rely on yourself and your family, your quality of being confirmed every dawn, extreme straightness of your choice fed a sense of life and the pleasures it offers.
I look forward to the opportunity I'll ever see you again.
Yours. ************

Sunday, March 13
I'm dark tonight. My nature, that which arises by my instinct behavior is detestable nant for any bold action. A force myself too socialized, I'm no longer bear the loneliness. At the same time, this need emotional and possibly sexual, is not feasible because of a penchant for excessive elimination-selection where, when lightning is near, I have an inability to convert that opportunity into potential approximation real.
One day perhaps I will like more natural sound simple.


Tuesday, March 15 3:03 am. Yesterday evening with Corinne R. pikeminnow in full despair. Again, I did not choose the purring bliss. This young lady, to be pathetic and sensual forms, has the intelligence and specifically whether this intuition Women who désarçonnent male hoof. It touches the extremes without ever nestle into a comfortable routine.
Me narrating with his guts on edge of chaos sinking his passing, she gives me her eyes screaming, touching the moisture that has a blue-revolt. I bled the bottom, as if a white-hot peak idle crossed my eyeball basis, as if a razor blade cleanly cut the other apple, then open gaping terrifying. And stratus of Dalí and Buñuel always come round to the moon ...
Tell me, lady, where do you concentrate the soul flay to the bone ? A too determined, too much carving, you betray your greenness to greedy and too early could widen your baby porridge. I wish I insinuated myself in the depths of your fibers to better understand the intricacies of your drifts.
The gift of self without reservation, the source of your discomfort, deserves attention a tad. That this prince of the Bar, the lord of the dress that will trap you with skill and sincerity alleged. More than receptive, the girl abandons her toes, the quills that protect it, leaving bare her attire, her generosity, sensitivity to light. The absolute is in itself a quest, like the horizon, a focal point inaccessible. Once believed to live one moment of perfection, it is wrong itself, and the return of lacrosse is only more violent.
A reflects this passion flaming gauge today flaps that remain worry. Nib to build a semblance of life, just as a bad knockout.
experimentation by the injury is too on the development of his personality. Yesterday, like a scared little animal, from birds to broken wing and the trembling little beast of aggression, you showed me the rarest qualities of a wife and the vices of the dangerous tightrope of balance.
I do not know if painting your dough bow down to human m'allouer your confidence, but know that my fondness for you is tough scratched in my fiber.
That day, I saw the justice in his masterful dirt. See my letter to the fucking chairman. It should not have to slip a blade into the handle because of the viscera of industrial tribunal judge would have attended the pit:

Sir, You
today chaired the hearing of interlocutory Council Prud'homme males of P. .. at 14:50, in the case between the L. .. gy Ms. Josette C. .., represented by Mr M. .. I am Mr. Loïc
Decrauze, born October 6, 1969 in Tours, sole director of the L. .. gy has been. go from 26 November 1993, registered at Paris. I am the sole legal representative of L. ..
At 14:30 I was present at your hearing, which began with 20 minutes late due to late arrival of Master M. .. Just before his arrival, you have even offered to put my conclusions and make my argument, without asking no counterpart in my capacity as legal representative.
At the request of Master M. .., that should have been declared defective and inadmissible because of its late arrival (if one takes into your "legalism"), you refused to hear the defense of L. .. Invoked only because I had no paper proving my quality. I wish to advise you that I have defended numerous cases before the Industrial Tribunal for P. .. as legal representative of R. .. U. .., O ..., and S. .. and that was never questioned my sincerity legal representative of such companies.
Today for L. .., I just attended a miscarriage of justice because of a genuine legal banditry.
Tomorrow morning, I send you from Paris all the supporting evidence of my quality and completeness of conclusions that you would have heard so far.
The new Criminal Procedure Code has eliminated the concept of "no excuse to ignore the law. "Believe me
me justice for me and the group I represent, I would not hesitate to denounce this travesty of justice which I attended, gagged so to speak. The new code above severely punishes the use of trace elements to deprive the opponent of adversary. Whether to go to the suspicion until the High Court, and would go well.
Believe me, Sir, the assurances of my highest .

Monday, March 26 Private
my natural medium to record my personal notes, it gently on a sheet given by a traveler as I headed discourse about the latest episodes of the ambient environment.
To start with the ego, I must get tired damn ass to move more quickly into the collection development towns during the French Revolution, otherwise I'll go through the famine under a roof of heaven. Poetic for survival, but troublesome in the armholes.
establishment that manages my account for a good half decade has shit on me mouth to an overrun of a few hundred francs on overdraft: elimination of the cb and immediate flow of my current bills. Scrapings bastards! Consequence: check for input F to 2000 sci Castle Au is simply dismissed. Scraps of my two slimy! I do not know what the future holds for me as divine surprises, but the rating of satiety was very outdated. Note that for lighting that credit institution has to show a loss of seven billion in its annual accounts. Understand the huge bankrupt. Welcome to the club! Not even the state is there, the open boxes. If
clashes appear on the road to extinction in the late Yugoslavia French youth began to share a stammering of revolt against an integration contract professional brainstormed and decreed by the Balladur government. It's been a long time we did not go out in groups for a few weeks and all these young people anxious. As always, the phenomena of mass stink of dangerousness by skidding. The rioters
be engaged in urban guerrilla chilly, being confined to a few stone-throwing, car outbreaks, bastons improvised, no real constitution of a strike force organized. Opposite, the loudmouthed Pasqua trying to scare the wankers, as more expeditious sanctions would suffice. A scorched earth policy would put an end to the rampage of hate pain sensation.


Sunday, March 27 Depart for obese Laon Lutece. Weekend Physical Au. The spring is illustrated by fragile buds. We lit a huge bonfire on the cement of the old barn, alternating layer of dry pine leaves and slice of agglomerated. Alternately I handle the rake, fork, I drive a small tractor towed trailer, I float in the thick white smoke feeder furnace muffled. The property becomes more and more beautiful, in its outlines. The first round of Castle has done a makeover, dressed with new slates.
Hubert arrives Sunday afternoon, on leave before returning to Castres in the paratroopers. The hair close to the skull, he shows us his handsome uniform of cadet Reserve. Conversation sprinkled with Heim. Monday, March 28


tonight on TF1 and France 2, young people speak. Ashamed to belong to that generation of old people conformists, prostrate on their hemorrhoids germ, assisted to the bone. And it's a max blablate either illiterate, imbecile, or both combined.

Na Dobre I Na Zle 418 Ogladaj Online

Saturday, April 2

Balladur did not resist the mouths of young restless. The Democratic can not do anything at the head of a soft diet. Unable to subdue the Vandals and thugs determined to destroy what is within their grasp, unable to impose its views on a youth in search of a safe and secure future, this government is liquefied bubbled until the presidential elections, not not venturing to blows latte in the foundation needed by our society.
urban guerrillas had no mercy with merchants, destroying, pillaging, plundering any goes. If they could own guns, they would not hesitate to offer a few corpses. When someone has spent its entire existence, the price of a slave away daily, made of selflessness and courage to build something that is reduced to dust in five minutes by lawless thugs, he has the right put an end to their atrocities.

Internal security is currently embodied by the master of the bluff Pasqua leaving his troops, not in order of reply attend destruction. But what sort of deliquescence general we live then? Even the State no longer his duty to assist and protect abused his flock. How then to victims refuse to arm themselves for the next time, deal with rogues? We will not accept a terror child, whereas a few muscular commandos would be enough to calm them down for good.
disorder illegitimate irritates me. That's why, can not rely on my own self-defense capability, I rarely go out without a switchblade knife. If the circumstance is serious, dramatic and that I can act, I would not hesitate to oppose an aggressor, even if it be myself or rot in jail. After what I endured, I do not place more than my life above all other considerations. While living, but not at any price. I know the cowardice that lies in me, congenital weakness that gnaws at me, but I also know that a seed of violence exists in my fibers and that the remains of my ethics will put me in serving my property or the property of people who are dear to me. In this, I'm not Catholic Christian soul. Monday, April 4


I am the castle. Late afternoon, the sky was dark times cataclysmic storm and wind: sordid.
Terrific day. Without the involvement of Karl in tears Heim blew his brains out. Alice, by his comments and lack of clarity globalizing, Heim placed in a hopeless situation where honor led to the death. The atrocious was immeasurable theories.
We are not going well at all. Heim, in danger of permanent death, plagued by physical complaints that he never leaves appear, assists and powerless individual disqualifications, each questioning the meaning of this collective life. Alice has changed enormously psychologically, and his judgments are an incisive Heim, revolted by his personality and absolute man of honor, can not accept. Faced with Karl and I, Heim is fortunately relented and Alice pursuing his reasoning, he limited himself to give a drubbing to his daughter.
Instead of taking its independence with a constructive spirit and kindness, we feel rumbling in the fibers will break Alice brutal, so bad for the whole family. It is for Heim
be most valuable as it has. She can not not take into account his actions and his words.
I leave here emerge as the event, without the display of all the facts and all the thought processes that led to this tragedy paroxysmal. Write all it remains extremely difficult for me because I am involved with all my existence and my constitution.
Time is curious. From my bed I see the trees swinging back to a reasonable set against blue sky recently. Tuesday, April 5


I scribbled these lines with a few glasses of red and champagne down his throat. Sorry for the possible confusion in the expression. Fabulous meals
reconciliation with Heim. The horror experienced yesterday with Karl and causes me epidermal instinct of sincerity: the immeasurable love and devotion that we bring to Heim. Alice, as Valium, persists as an iceberg incendiary. Our tears
immediately defused the atrocious processes. Heim has shown us his infinite gratitude. Blowing his brains for a drug was poorly ingested a terrible mess, and irreparable tragedy for the whole family. Saturday, April 9


last Thursday on television, all channels, mobilized against AIDS. From 8:50 p.m. to 3 am, around the duo Dechavanne-Mitterrand (Frederick), "you know everything, everything, everything, you know all about the" dreadful syndrome. Actors, singers, entertainers: all revolved around witnesses and victims of the scourge.
the bus No. 48 that brought me Porte de Vanves Gare du Nord, I looked into dozens, hundreds of boiled. Among them, some girls by touching their beauty, perhaps in their youth, are or will be affected by evil.
Le Pen was the first policy in France to alarm the public about the seriousness of the virus. Today, even the most GAUCHARD puff plastic, protecting, with an eroticism directos from the supermarket, most parts very genitals. Sunday, April 10


journalists, editorial chiefs or leaders of national newspapers, reflected left, last night, one (even) more detestable image of their way of being and thinking.
press review on the small screen. First subject: the suicide of Grossouvre at the Elysee, emaciated little figure at the head oblong and beard cut short, incidentally close friend of mité Fanfan. The troupe journalistic we drunk more than thirty minutes on the ins and outs of the drama. Each said its subtlety light, its incontinent analysis, design falsely moralized the role they must keep the rogues and evil. Indigestible leftovers renumbered to single file ... After Pelat and Beregovoy, Fanfan finds himself very vulnerable.
Saturday, April 16

Before leaving for Au, seen in a cafe near the Pantheon, the studious Aline L. Soon lawyer, she has reached her look of woman, keeping her hypersensitivity. Lovely time with him. Casual conversation. She managed to control his penchant for partying and fun, to achieve his ambition.
All these futures that emerge peacefully: work, money, love, leisure, friends, travel ... I do not know what will be my tomorrows. One can not accuse me of conformism, much less follow a conventional route. Inevitably more qu'intention premeditated.
New illustration of the bloody drunk catapult a people who at the age of barbarism: Rwanda slay, stumbles, s'écharpe, maintaining the acrid stench of spilled juice and lanky bodies littering the ground. The spring colors mortis.


Tuesday, April 19 The UN is, again, to show its total inability to enforce its decisions. Even a great machine, just a little, a little muddy stuff. Western policies were swollen with pride at the response so late to stop the butchering of Sarajevo. With some ridiculous raids aircraft blueprints, we thought invulnerable, laying of international law. Nonsense technocrats ossified by the intellect so inept procedures for considering a resolution number to be shipped as soon as possible in the pits UN.
The UN is more than ever the mark of sterile intellectualism, principles for the good word, crooks of political action. Nothing, nay, that slab of skin prick. Gorazde, Muslim town of the late Yugoslavia, is being extermination, reduced to ashes, annihilation by tapestries blood of innocents. Peacekeepers lacerate their berets, desperate to have their leaders so castrated. Serbs massacred cheerfully, playing the game of war in full. Bodies, battered credit to enforce an alleged international justice, cry out in comfortable lobbies. Pathetic abjection.
While a real war crime is nearing completion, we French, we find Paul Touvier proclaimed killer of humanity! There are severe, unforgiving to an old man adored by his family. The demonstration is made that nothing works properly in this world: Kuwait protected Undercutting Yugoslavia. Garbage political scrapings worthy of their pseudo-legality!
Our soft belly against the Germans during the World War II, almost amazes us today but we have nothing changed. A small faction of Serbia, to use the weapons it has placed under UNPROFOR control, can lead his killing without being disturbed. Lucid
Juppe: "There is no military solution to the conflict." But if, glabrous minister, there is one ... for the Serbs! But good god! those who have the authority to take military action without blablatent. We will wait for what? That the Serbs are sending in nice packages severed heads of UN peacekeepers? Another aberration Juppe wants a meeting of major nations to adopt yet another position of principle that it will impose ... but with what? The diplomatic bag? Wednesday, April 27


pathetic bitter tonight. Saw a movie in tribute to Serge Moati Pierre Beregovoy the Just, who committed suicide. At the time, when I heard the news, I cooed with my sweet Kate in the Grand Hotel de Cabourg, where we decided to spend a long weekend. At night, discovering the beauties drive around, I kept deep in the throat a strange whiff of distaste for the media clique, who buried yesterday and today praises the Prime Minister. For the man Beregovoy, sensitive to the core, I mulled the vague impression a masterly mess. This little man, so harmless at first sight, probably hiding a loyalty that dipped beyond competence constantly being improved by its questioning daily, combining its survival within the meaning of honor. Leftist I know, but I remain deeply moved by this intimate tragedy.
Certainly my doubts about the infernal failed business professional, face the negative influence of my relationship with Kate, facing this fragile and short break from my troubles at the gates of Deauville, has crystallized more my dismay.

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April May June

Sunday, May 8
Up at dawn to find the castle. From me for a few hours the gray morass of obese Lutece.
Last Wednesday, an hour's sleep under the ring and not a morsel in his stomach, I sink to the Industrial Tribunal, rue Louis Blanc, to counter the findings of abundant tallowy Lafente, lawyer of his condition, situated on the Champs Elysees, incidentally scoundrel Caroline Moles, the late literary advisor of the seru.
My argument, I prepared up to 5 am with Heim, Hubert and Monique. At a time of stuttering, a feeling of anxiety as the germ time of my oral law at the Sorbonne. I'm not even sure that the Council understands me, because that is composed of bosses and underlings elected magistrates.
Big Media we simmering dramatic Turgis few of his own, not a blade polyphosphatées, thundered Jean-Pierre Coffe. In the disorder of a foggy cogito:
Senna, crazy driving, laughing enemy of ascendantal Prost will receive a nasty head butt to 300 km / h.
Between two massacres, the South Africans play at the polls, throwing the old convict Mandela as president. What a fate for Nelson !
Fanfan Mité and some ministers baptize the Charles de Gaulle, whose submarine hull is the joy of warm piss Kersauson: it is not a "codfisher" that, crénom! With their usual
film, the small and large Sarkozy Pasqua, Laurel and Hardy of the moment, go and fetch the chief, Sage Matignon to hear his sentence on the budget allocated to the land. Hugh! "Laurel and Hardy, are good friends ... "We Uygur song, here!
A Malian illegal, picked up at the station Porte de la Chapelle, died of a heart attack in police custody. SOS Racisme Buddies were gray with mine, tried his hand at the suspected dirty cops white. No pot-brothers and-sisters, the attack took place before the examination and is confirmed by the forensic nature. Monday, May 9


slightly diverted route for my morning back to Paris I have to catch the flight to Chaulnes an envelope passing through Amiens, and file the SNVB before noon. Sunday
very beneficial for the emotional release builder. I experience different activities: thrusting and spread of small pebbles, redrawing of the curve of the driveway, clearing in the meadow and around Christ polychrome mowing the big red tractor refurbished grubbing feet of cabbage, I think, in large pins mounted. Phew! phew! what a day, my ancestors.
Green and lush, the property was embellished with increasingly revealing the turning radius of the magnificent building that sits there for a few hundred spring.
I finish the back cover of Bethune in the revolutionary period, the first work out my responsibility in the collection localities of the French Revolution.

The capital is approaching ... Wednesday, May 11


One o'clock. Yesterday successful day for the editorial project on Valenciennes. While the economic fabric of Bethune did not give me hope for a picaillon, Etienne Gaspard, old man loves his city and the company's founder, first in France for office equipment that bears his family name, informs me that it will participate in at least 30 000 F to our initiative. That inflates and gives meaning to my work.
At the same time, I get the two prefaces, one of the local scholar Philip L. for Bethune, and Professor of Modern History at the University Karl de Gaulle - Lille III Valenciennes, written with care and volunteers. These contributions will only contemporary stress relief works from the beginning of the century.


Friday, May 13 On this day of superstition, I resume my favorite doodle. Recent interventions have been exhausted prematurely.
Meanwhile Fanfan Mité shared with us his presidential Happy Birthday. Priesthood of thirteen years: nothing has started the vivacity of his relationship with the world. More concerned than ever that he will leave traces in the history of butter, he honed his last act with dexterity and stretches between benevolent paternalism and Machiavellianism underlying.
The man knew how to satisfy his political ambition to the depths, agreeing to a seven-bis assuming the contradictions of this presidential longevity. To withstand the daily battering, attempted scuttling of his system, the flurry of denunciations of his labyrinthine blackness past, it has fully integrated the properties of the oilcloth. The agile mind, determined character, Fanfan was waterproofed: flowing and splashing ...
The end of his immanence takes place in the most comfortable of situations: cohabitation with the sweet Balladur. May 95, he will leave his lair, crowned by a good half of citizens. Sunday, May 22


23 hours and dust. Lutece is offered at night, the degrees are enough to maintain a reign mild spring storm accents. I decided to go for a ride in a box. I commissioned to sketch live atmosphere and its actants. Tiny notebook in hand, step to the side, Bic armed spirit alive, I'm ready.
Above all, do not melt before the little face more or less fresh, fleeting youth on the way to menopause.

After a few detours in the metropolitan sewer, here I am good first Aquarium. The place is kind of neat: fusantes lights, muted for the most phosphorescent neon lights to create the unrealistic setting, the waitresses, openers, delicious stews forms adorable, especially embellished by the reigning blur.
Hall welcomes its first visitors. Few lonely like me. Damsels and young guns take place on the beautiful red velvet armchairs. Wise beginning, classical, that spice the night thickens and alcohol diffusing its exciting to neurons. A Note: trio wankers pinned impeccable, no doubt ready for hunting.
Early start, dance has found its first incarnations, including a talented little swarthy poles agile. Ay-east, some of the ladies roll butt. I return, I must m'ébattre ... Some
swaying later, the track was the least populated. Is the soft lights, but the presence of competing good boiled.
Far from me, castles, nobility of soul, sacrifice everyday near the fireworks. Rhythm is a beautiful day, he must regain the upper legs.
The illusory sprout like Satyr stinking to dew. No credit can be given to any expression of interest which we may be worn. Shake my ball on these sheets on a reassuring clarity that still exists between the eardrums smashed.
What a curious need to turn the cul among strangers. Healthy or harmful addiction, it is hoped that this fucking civilization will not brutalized by the reign fun. These infernal cycle, leading to the tons of rotting fetus, give each of them a few juicy protuberances.
Petiot, a formula I and a constant theme: "This is what I have to say in this world inert everything seems plausible. Do not rely on it too. The only agreement between us will be possible to understand us or kill us! .
few wreaths escaped from the mouth of a young girl. The features of the siren at night gives off a perfect harmony. Still a vision, forever lost, which joined the pits unfathomable waste of unfulfilled. The
Mia of filthy Marseilles excites the crowd the place, the track extends beyond the sweaty bodies. For all our new vintage philosophers, a matter of urgency scratch: relaxation in human megacities.
Decibels flirting with the tops, to the point of forcing the heart to jump to the rhythm of the melody going. Passage
techno music par excellence hormone, it causes bodily vibrations. For the subtlety of reflection, I suspect the consequences liquefying.
oven heated young trance world: one can easily imagine the pleasure of paroxysmal turned psychotic committed the massacre in Rwanda. The white flashes would discover some guts to red. The melody of organic cracked noggin.
The world is compact, delusions more pronounced. Each plays his local celebrity and ephemeral, with everyone trying to catch hints of entertainment, while everyday and mediocrity are accumulated for a moment forgotten.
The women's liberation, what a find! There
rush all the instincts that would necrotic in blazer. Some figures
resist the lure ecstatic and, lo and behold, I come to talk with two lovely ladies, one is a dancer in the troupe Béjart (if I heard correctly). Impressions of this strange world and unusual ...
Again, I fall too easily into pessimism systematic. These two young girls, looking like a very juvenile, are interested in my unusual activity in this sanctuary of trapping physics. Me, I limit myself to the galvanization of axons and bustle of the left hand surgery.
Aside on the news: Fanfan Mité us once again climbed the Solutré. An annual pilgrimage for not very talkative pals Fanfan and mystics mitterrand ...

Tonight, again, Rwanda in the spotlight on the boards of Big Media with piles of corpses. The report shows preliminary TF1 beauties of the country with abundant waterfalls, nature and fairy fat. The following image crystallizes a sudden nausea: the bodies of men, women, children and old men naked float carcasses soaked in boiling water. A scream, to die of pain, so much contempt for human nature is profound. Barbary programmed systematized slaughter: we must eat these irreducible bastions of gerrymandering to enter the first inclination of man and admit that this decay can reach and destroy any civilization, whatever the stage of its evolution.

Doodling, swaying to the rhythm of boisterous, this drama directos of Terror from the more definitive: for a contrast, it is Maousse, my brothers. Comfortable under the floodlights, I think of the morbid events of this people.
Here we dance, we drink, we smoke, we observed for the possible fornication, it cultivates its pleasures. There, it awaits the next second to avoid joining the mass graves or floating to cadaveric sides. Atrocities that haunt everyone.
We also have our batch of horror on the threshold of the cee. The late Yugoslavia is always fatal convulsions. And Prince
beats. The Kiss countries have their favorite, the machetes have theirs. To each his drift ...
The dawn will soon break. Only these few pages remain of that night.
Tone romantic cycle slows for the languor meetings. Loll that the bodies before they wilt.
Phil Collins inspires me to the glottis. In addition, two beautiful slender pieces through the ankles, easy touch: one of these girls rushed to a black pearl, beauty black woman made, and all of them go into conversation on the track. It should at this time it out of that role prestatie and dehumanized to try to update its points of sensitivity and intelligence. Femininity, they have body lines, but not the behavior and psychology. Friday, May 27


Nighter for writing into the rhythm. Advantage decibels: inspiration is not exhausted sleep early.
News, unlike this place fun, do not adapt to a purring bliss. B.-HL, disheveled thinker, shakes somewhat rancid trances of the campaign for European elections. Faced with issues without sizes, the image of listless Delors, intellectuals activate the signal for battle with "Europe begins in Sarajevo". They stigmatize and the only point that is worth a mobilization: the struggle in the late Yugoslavia.
Alongside this shamelessly screwing the underground trips will continue. Slow aggregation shapes to techno measure.
Nothing in the proposed perspectives, encourage serenity. Civilization worn by the immobility of human genetics. The packaging of carpe diem , immediate pleasure in superficiality, no evil is rooted in the noggin of fresh skins, hopeless irrigation of new blood. Even the human carnage is not enough to give rise to strong fundamentals. Stirring mortis, this is what remains of the noble savage. Ankles fine, although the curve drawn, the size to wiggle, and intelligence to stir ephemeral flashes according evacuations of Big Media . The unconsciousness combined with unbridled playfulness are holders of irreversible decay of people and systems.
Have fun, folks, as barbarism has not tarnished your doorstep!
mastodons Race Track and the stone is to take the heavy caliber. Clauclau he is still honored in the Hall of relaxation. Returning
small national events. More than ever
martyr, the beautiful beast snorts Tapie against attack as an energy saving him rest. The commandos on a mission for her stoning to compete effectively. Nth claim for waiver of his parliamentary immunity. Tapie is housed in the same boat as Le Pen. Normal: both figures thick trunk. The capitulation of the case, should it occur, would probably not look like a brain burned on the banks of a water wedge ...
The price of celebrity, the star system , has plenty of good harvests. On the one hand, the battering court, with their muted insinuations and terrorizing their chips on the other media response which includes its daily mixture according controversy and imagination of the actants. My
publishing activity, focusing on the exhumation works dealing with the excesses of the French Revolution, including redness of Terror, would find in the news all the material for fill. Stubbornness
humanists to ignore an order to channel the strong tendencies of the humanoid murderers makes them accomplices sanitary cycles of bloodshed.
What good have ended some strong states of Eastern Europe. How many people, the base with little concern for freedom of expression, then lived more peacefully. To my knowledge, no journalist has clearly underlined the plight of democratization in populations in frozen ethnic resentments. There is not an apologia for the of totalitarianism in these intractable situations of violence. Admittedly, this system has excluded its head Turk tortured in cul-de-dungeon. But the bulk of good Pople can count on serenity, with food and shelter.

The aura of democracy in these countries immature, is a funeral wreath.
"Freedom for what? "Questioned Bernanos. Pose the problem of the inability of some people to assume a freedom, at times in their history, is mere intellectual honesty. Why
monomania of Human Rights Is proclaimed everywhere as essential, while for many the only life to be insured? The individual conscience remains untouchable, only its expression may be regimented. What good is all of these rights? Homework deserve far more attention to the blossoming of harmony in the world as expected. Freedom to relieve some ego or to fill a need tugging of poor human nature? Evidence, freedom denies itself without learning.
It will tax all my daemons: nazis, fachillon the most rebellious hair. Swagger-like anathema deficient minds, too much molded by the atmosphere end century in order to blow up the ideological shackles. Too often the illusion reigns paragon of Information and question commonly heard. The
deviant conduct the game Any attempt to revolt, even accompanied by excessive destruction, has only illusory resonance. Once mortified passion for ephemera May 1968, the rules of the sad lords submerge again crusty lanky. And what's up
, Fanfan Mité? Goes well, our President. Point of angst for the old man filled. He teases here and there in its constitutional areas and let him slowly come to end of his reign. Go, Fanfan, joining the illustrious ... Sunday, May 29


Little Sandy on 28 runs. Karl and I on a mission to sociological La Loco in Saint-Quentin. For my apple comparison with the Parisian inspiration it generates.
Large tracks are still at half-time was not yet sufficiently advanced.
heads explode in warm regions of the stone, here we limit ourselves to focus fluttering in the abdomen. The Loco
has accents more popular than my favorite Aquarium.
That a small track for all the young people in need of trepidation. Make an effort Mr. Loco . Getting through the framework
glitter and blare to note a significant news. The older it is Solzhenitsyn returned to his homeland cold, and loco. please! Reunion with former classmates camps.
The patriarch had pledged a funeral in the forbidden lands. The speech and writing will finally triumphed against the steamroller Communo-Stalinist and its armada of ways exterminators.
The big track opened its black curtains and the world was engulfed, nice ass before. The bursting
cool behind our morals in the mire lightly. Distract the people and channel his energy always dangerous to the system. Old trick, and yet always at the forefront of mass manipulation. The religious, playful, sporty, so deviance beneficial for potentates. Nihilism traces its frustrations, and trade, what juicy profits to be made. Never forget that rogues assembled. A few
myself to change perspectives. How will my future projections they illustrated? Mal crossed for the success illuminating. Not, without playing the immodest, that I lack capacity, but the embers inside is sprayed.
React to retain any hope of reaching the flowering conventional. I no longer believe too. Ersatz, that is all I catch the flight. The sacrifices are multiplying in the manner of buckwheat. The old story of paradise lost, love, work, and why not-family home, everything turns mediocre garish hues. The age of the pastel is over for me. Only this little ability to scribble saves me from the undifferentiated, born to die in ignorance universal. Useful effusions or Wailing bulky or obscene? The slice
slows felt the outpouring of sweat. It only remains for me to butcher me know myself better. Nothing should escape the sharp analysis of my condition and improvised path. Monday, May 30


Back to Lutece for a new week hope that successful business and love, hey hey! Valenciennes
Experience has convinced me of the need to physically meet city officials to complete in a favorable context, sprinkled with an editorial project sponsorship. Open wide for economic exchanges, I invest myself body and soul, playing my mug and my youth. The passion has always led the world.