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.
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.
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.
"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.
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