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So, as regards the rule , I thought it was something implicit in the presence of locks to the posts, but apparently not, then we specify, when picked up pieces of stories posted on this community, you always ask the author for permission to use elsewhere. The presence of the lock means to post their protection, so to post "clear" pieces of history in this community need to ask permission. And, when you post elsewhere, please remember to credit this the original author. There is no post, for example, on Facebook, whole pieces of fanfiction not even say where they come from. I recommend a bit 'of a minimum of attention and respect. :)

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Egg White Cervical Mucus

[Series] Und So Weiter [fanfiction] There Will Be A Dry Eye In The House Tonight [NC-17] Introduction II

Title: There Will Be A Dry Eye In The House Tonight
Author: lisachanoando ( Lizon )
Genre: Introspective .
Rating: NC-17
Torque: Fler / Chakuza, WTO / Fler.
Alerts: Angst, Violence, Slash, OC.
Wordcount: 5079
Summary: " But I'm here in front of a boy not a weakness, then that is what I understood and shared by him and Fler. They can be incredibly strong, they both know that unbreakable armor use, but overlapping with, their core is still soft and vulnerable. only to discover it scare you for what you could do bad touching. "
Notes: continues with this shot of the series spin-off dedicated to Flerkuza and its derivatives XD Get ready to see what Fler had in mind when he spoke of taking care of Danny. Bring you panic bags of air. Also spit in it, in the case.
Apart from that, a quick warning: this history, the extensive wine cellar filled with stories that we had already written months or weeks ago is out, why it is likely that from next week onwards updates to suffer some delay:) We know that you will forgive us.


(Patton of the Tab, as usual)

THERE WILL NOT BE A DRY EYE IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT
I hid my head in the fridge, when it happens . I do not have time to understand a damn thing, really, because I'm scraping the bottom of drawers and shelves to try to prepare something edible for dinner. Something that has not been able to evolve to the stage amphibian, at least. There are olives in a jar. I try to remember if I even make the sauce in the bottle for some 'pasta, but then I look better and olives are almost certain to see the eyes, somewhere, so I give up. Beside me, there is the constant presence of Daniel, who wanders near my annoying person and judged. He has his arms crossed over his chest, one of them blindfolded and still around his neck, as dislocated, and looks at me with evident pity.
- Is not nothin 'in here, eh? - asks in disgust - I do not know if you have this life that I did at my house, but at least the food was never missing.
- now I find something. - I mumbled, getting up and closing the refrigerator door, so that is clearly not find anything. - I'm just looking in the wrong place.
- What place further from the truth of the refrigerator to find food edible, for that matter. - He rolls his eyes, following me as I move toward the cabinet above the stove and began to open them all together to be able to have a full overview.
- Not all the stuff to eat for strength should be stored at four degrees Celsius. - I make him out, frowning. Cans of tuna! Here's how to win this battle. I rise on tiptoe to reach the three packs of tuna packed in oil on the last shelf on top, triumphant thinking that if the sauce is really what I thought before, hidden somewhere in this kitchen, I will tuna with pasta so good that this naughty boy cry of joy, apologizing for being an evil and enslave my will while I live, consenting to be thrown out of my house not to be never see again.
squeeze the cans in his hands and turn around the package a formality. It should not be expired.
... but it is not. I feel physically
Daniel arch of the eyebrow on his forehead, produces an almost audible sound, like fingernails on a blackboard.
- I see that even those stored at room temperature are not a dull moment around here. - Says, leaning just to note the expiration date indicating an object too distant in time to be masked with a mild "should be, 'So much is still good."
- Look, if all you want to do is turn myself around like a vulture without even giving me a helping hand, go back to lounging on the couch! - Blurt offended, glanced in disgust. Where the hell is Fler when I need it? Why not go home and drag this social evil to get ice cream or shoot the birds with a slingshot or whatever they do for fun when they are together without having to strip naked?
- We'll even help, - Daniel sighed, arching his eyebrows in an expression that seems truly contrite and embittered to the point that I opened his eyes and looked at him and I even feel guilty. I. Guilty. Let's talk. - Unfortunately, with this arm here ... - sighs again, indicating for the arm nurses with a quick gesture of his head.
I scratched his neck nervously, looking away. Damn kid.
- I-
- No, come to think - he interrupts me, curling his lips into a grimace reflexive - Not help you even if I had the good arm, it is true. I prefer to break your balls girandoti around like a vulture, yes.
- Daniel ...! - Thunder, as he stares at me blankly and sticks out his tongue with a knowing air. I have no time to tell him anything, or just to organize what I would tell him, because I feel the key turn in the lock and suddenly this brings me back to reality. Fler is back. - At the early hour! - Yelled, hands on hips, - But do you know where was she? For a second
Fler eyes are lost and confused. It is as if, to a time before arriving, was taken by many other thoughts, much more severe and serious, and be in front of me that I legitimately complain of pain I'm suffering was a possibility that he had not even considered, because they are too busy to plan who knows what else. It is a different light that illuminates the eyes and casts dark shadows and mysterious to the rest of his face and his expression, but it only lasts a moment. I watch him smile wryly, while laying the keys on the console and closes the door behind him.
- Maybe you do not remember, but I do not live here. - Me this - why these protests seem decidedly out of your site.
- Out of place, yes. - I agree, frowning, - Just as the presence of your lover in my house. Explain because he has to live here?
- Look, are two inches from you and not her lover. - Daniel reminds me, again crossing his arms over his chest somewhere to my left. - Even if I become one, if you really care about.
- prefer to have lived in my apartment and I could sneak in there every time I want to meet him secretly while you are not watching? - Fler asks me, giving me a look amused.
- I would prefer! - Daniel admits, raising the healthy arm for emphasis.
- You stay here. - I growl, extensible to retrieve the wooden spoon on the table and throwing a spoonful on the head.
- Ouch! - He complains, massaging the sore point and losing a hand in that huge ball of hair that continues to grow inexorably in blatant affront to my person - I could report you for abuse, you know? - Threatening me, making me another tongue. I rolled his eyes, let go, and go back to look Fler with the look, but he's gone.
- Fler? - I call it, going around the island and started walking to the corridor, catching up in the bedroom watching and quickly slip a clean shirt and jacket just above, - What the heck are you doing? He
system the collar of his jacket, looking away.
- You are right here, right? - Calls, blatantly ignoring my question, - You do not need anything?
- ... no, no-Fler, what happens? - I ask insistently, a step closer. He forces a smile, returning at last to look into my eyes.
- I have a business to attend to. - Said, before wandering around and take the corridor.
- Fler! - I chase him, stopping just when I almost bumped into - but what the heck ...? - Muttered, leaning over to look at his body. There is Daniel still in front of him, watching him with evident curiosity.
- Where do you go? - He asks. Fler not respond immediately.
- I have a business to attend to. - Then repeated, holding his gaze. The term quiet Daniel remains so for a few seconds before suddenly crack.
- No. - said with difficulty, taking a step toward him, - Fler-
But he did not listen to him, avoiding his body and heading quickly towards the door. I look at them and do not understand anything. I look at the eyes of Fler, two blue spots perfectly serene, calm, focused, lost in the sea of broken contracts and worried about his features. And we do not understand anything.
- I will later tonight. - He says, his voice is distant. - Do not wait for me awake.
disappears through the door the next minute, and I have no idea yet of what happened.
- What ...? - Chance, glancing Daniel uncertain. He turns to look at me, finally stopping to fix the door closed with the expression of one who is waiting to burst into tears at any moment. Tightens his lips and holds her breath, and when it seems he's going to tell me something, but I do not say anything.
- No. - stutters uncertain, before going to closing in the first room available. Which is also the only one. My room.
It shows up only at dinner time. I go out shopping in the afternoon and then step I do not know how much time behind the stoves, how can I get distracted, I cook for an army, and when he leaves the room, all wrinkled and taut and eyes so red that if I did not know who cried, orders a drug test immediately, comes into the kitchen dragging their feet and scratching his head and standing in the doorway, watching the spectacle on the island full of equipment and food while I acted around us, arranging everything with maniacal almost pathological.
- Hey. - The smile nervously - You woke up. I prepared a little something to eat.
- known .... - He says, his voice slurred and a little 'hoarse. - It was felt, right? - Asks fearfully, refusing to meet my gaze.
- No. - I say, pushing a stool and playing a couple of times the palm of your hand against the chair, to invite him to sit. I would like Fler ask him if he really knows where he went, or what is going to do, but it is clear that Daniel did not want to talk about, and perhaps, if it is something that Daniel did not want to talk, there are high chances that it is also something I I do not want to hear. For this reason, I try to smile and I sit on the stool beside him. - Do not think about it now. - Shake my head, lifting the bowl and serve a large portion of boiled broccoli, - eat your dinner. Fler for those I have already put aside, when you eat again. He notes
vegetables with hallucinatory air, pricking with a fork for a few seconds before deciding to leave her alone and go back and watch me.
- Chakuza, you hate me much? - Therefore asking me to be a broccoli and sideways. He rolls his eyes, cough forcefully, sending down a generous swig of water and I clean with his napkin before clears his throat and return his glance with a calm full of bewilderment.
- What, sorry? - I ask in my turn, raising his eyebrows - Look at the broccoli are good for you. You are too skinny as you are tall, not that I'm trying to poison you. - Muttered resentfully. He laughs, and his laugh is totally different from what I've always heard him when it came to laugh at me. It is a resigned laugh, a bit 'sad. Grips my heart, I think, if this senso di colpa assolutamente immotivato che mi prende quando lo vedo meno che contento può essere paragonato a un’espressione simile. Il mio rapporto con Daniel, in questo senso, è un po’ confuso. Mi arrabbio quando è felice, perché il più delle volte lo è solo quando può stare appiccicato a Fler. Ma sono triste quando non lo è, perché il più delle volte non lo è solo quando deve stargli lontano.
- Non sto parlando dei broccoli. – si stringe nelle spalle, seguendo con la punta di un dito i disegni quadrettati della tovaglia, - Stavo solo pensando che… non lo so. – ride ancora, cambiando lievemente posizione come se stesse scomodo, - Posso riuscire a capire perché Fler still keeps me with him. But you? You should hate me. I think.
I swallow a little more 'water, inhaling deeply.
- Hate is a great feeling, Daniel. - I explained - too huge and too dirty, unmanageable. Hating someone takes away pieces of yourself, pieces that give in to anger, resentment, envy, desire for revenge and who knows what else. - Sigh, shrugging his shoulders, - I do not reason in these terms. All in all, I have a good life. I am a happy man. I was sad in the past, and I tried a grudge against someone, but I never let these bad feelings take control over me and turn hate. Hatred will not take you anywhere, if not more hatred. It is not a wise way to live their lives. Anyone can claim to be happy, can hardly hate. Or so I think. - Conclude by looking away.
Daniel nods slowly, his blue eyes lost on something that I can not identify. Are so similar to those of Fler ... not only in color. It is something more intimate, more profound. And maybe what I understand when Daniel opens his lips and speaks, a little later.
- I do not have much to be happy, then. - Says the plan, - Why I hate my father. I hate it so much that I do not know how many times I dreamed of being alone with immobilized him somewhere, to be able to punch and kick him until passing the same signs that he has left me. ... And at the same time - let go a sigh that was almost a groan, and supports both elbows on the table, as no longer able to stand straight on the stool with his own efforts, - At the same time I think my father must not 'be much happier if he hates himself enough to get what you do, and hates me enough to hit me at first than I can remember.
Weave your fingers on the table, licked her lips as I try the best words to continue. That is something I never do, I mean that I'm trying to filter out thoughts and I do not I throw it on first that comes to mind to express it exactly as it was formulated in the dark recesses of my brain? I'm so out of character that most complaints from me alone. But I'm here in front of a boy not a weakness, then that is what I understood and shared by him and Fler. They can be incredibly strong, unbreakable armor that they both know how to use, but overlapping with, their core is still soft and vulnerable. Only to discover it scare you to what you might do bad touching.
- I think it's Tempelhof. - I say softly, nodding with conviction - poisons people. Think of me, I've set foot almost two hours and I came out with more a form of Swiss cheese holes! - Plays down, shrugging his shoulders and gesticulating and praying to God to send me the good, and he happily does, because Daniel let go a laugh a half attimino deepest of all those he has done since we were sitting around discussing life , beatings and death in the ghetto, all things that I absolutely do not want to talk even when they are calm and serene when I picture a man lost in the mists of Berlin and not even know if he will return home in one piece, and I can pull a sigh of relief.
- Maybe. - Concluded, rising, - In any case, I doubt that will matter from now on. - Add in a half whisper, and then come a smile, looking up at me. - Look, I'm very hungry, - confessed with difficulty - but I would like broccoli they eat tomorrow. I keep them?
nod, in my turn, getting up and emptying both of our dishes still virtually full nell'insalatiera. The broccoli that I had to make the company released back to their brothers Daniel and leaves the kitchen and disappears from sight. I place in the fridge and I think that when you come home Fler, the ingozzerò enough to prevent him from being hungry for the rest of the week. So, just because I can.
When I finish tidying up, I go to the couch on Daniel convinced us that watch TV, and I'm so well disposed towards him and asked him if I do not want him, the bed, maybe just for tonight. But I do not have time because I find him already asleep, lying on the couch for a long and feet dangling over the armrest of the chair touching the one next to it. I smile when, back in the kitchen and setting to spend some 'time washing dishes and arranging stuff that I never thought to put in place in a normal situation, such as cartons of canned food in the lockers, or the collection of spices on the shelf above the stove.
finish that midnight has already passed one piece, but there is still no trace of Fler. I sigh and recover the phone, I try to call and hear the bell ringing somewhere in the bedroom. It's so rare that Fler not carry with it the first phone that I can hardly believe what my ears hear. I go into your room and see the cell phone rings and vibrates slightly on the bedside table, and only then, in the face of visual evidence, I resign myself, and I close the call. I let myself go sit on the bed, wondering what I should do. When I disappeared, Fler has almost turned the city to find myself. But I would not be able to do it, so I will simply wait. I lay in bed, by his side, which is something that almost never do, but today it does. Today, even a little 'Who cares of the things that I do almost ever.
I realize that I fell asleep when I wake up, I do not know how many hours later. The night is still dark outside the window, but I see the profile of Fler sitting on the edge of the bed. It gives me the shoulders hunched and silent as I've never seen. It seems depressed, and is something that grips my heart.
- Fler ...? - I call it, the voice thick with sleep, while I rise on his elbows. He does not move, and really does not give the impression of not heard me. It remains there, motionless as a statue of salt. I hear him breathe, but it's a slight murmur, which does not have the slightest impact on his body. He does not inflate the chest, not her shoulders, I wonder whether it is sufficient to keep him alive.
I better straighten up and smear on the mattress to him, leaning over the curved line of his shoulders to throw a look alarmed. There is something strange in his figure, perhaps in her clothes, but it's dark and I can not see well.
- Fler? - I call it again, definitely. He still does not move, staring in front of him. His profile in the dark for a second change shape when wet his lips. He stroked his tongue in a hasty gesture, which runs out after the shows when, with such speed as to give the impression that he left impressed by his own taste, as this may sound absurd thing. - You do not want to talk? - Wonder. He obviously does not respond. I sigh. I'm angry, it annoys me that it continues to remain silent even though it is clear that I am concerned and I would take a half a word to reassure her and get back to peaceful sleep, but I decide not to be overwhelmed by anger, and shrug. - OK, - nod, - okay if you do not want to talk. At least come to bed and rest. I do not know what time it is but it must be late. - I suggest, and at the same time I get back to crawl to the other half of the bed, which is always his, but tonight I decided it's mine, that he sleeps beside me or not.
It is then that he moves. His arm stretches slowly into the darkness of the room, deep black shadow in the background just lighter shade of the front wall, dimly lit by the bluish light of the night, and his fingers close around the switch-dell'abat lamp, turning it on. The room is invested by the warm yellow light bulb, and so his body. A body in patches, like a Dalmatian. Only the spots that cover it are red and dark and thick as blood. They are blood.
- Fler! - I call it, returning immediately close and putting his hands on. Jet legs off the bed and sat on the bank beside him, the ride and turned it over to control by where is all that blood. His expression, however, did not appear distressed. Or rather, it seems, but not as if hurt. The pain in her eyes is one of those elusive that leave no visible scars on the skin. On him, now I'm used to recognize it. - Fler, what happened?
- not mine. - He says. They are the first words that escape his lips since I opened my eyes. Come out rough and uncertain, it seems to me to see them groping around, bothered by light, running to take refuge in the shadow cone of the corners of the room. - Blood. - States after briefly pulled up his nose - not mine.
- Have you had a fight? - Asked frowning eyebrows. He looks down on his hands. Are abandoned in her lap, dirty, caked with blood.
- I went into his house. - Says to me, and I stuck with me. I freezes the air in the lungs, his blood, saliva on the tongue. I stare in horror and I would find enough voice to tell him that I do not know anything, but I remain silent. - He slept. - Continued - was so drunk that he had not noticed to have vomited in his sleep, or if he had realized he had cheated, and had remained there immersed in his own vomit to sleep and snore. You can not imagine the disgust of having to touch, Chaku.
- Fler-
- I went downstairs and went into the kitchen - continued him, as if he had not heard - and I tried a clean glass. I searched for a long time - laughs bitterly - but I finally found it, and I filled with water. Then I went back upstairs in the bedroom. I grabbed and I flipped on the mattress on his back. And then I threw water in my face because I wanted it to be conscious, Chaku. Got it? I wanted to be awake and knew what was going on.
- Fler ..., - I hardly swallow, take your hands off and let it fall inert in her lap - to whom are you talking about?
He looks at me a long time, and in the end decided not to respond. I do not know if it does because he wants to protect me or because considers the question so stupid, and the answer so obvious, will not have to even consider. The fact is that it does not say anything, but somehow in that moment, in light of his serious eyes I find myself sad and frightened silence of Daniel, and everything makes sense.
- He woke up with a grunting animal. - Resumes, returning to lower their gaze, - And I said "this is not a man, this is a beast." I do not know why I thought, maybe because it was easier. - Shrugs - I shook hands around the neck, but I just wanted him stunned and afraid. I did not want to kill him that way, it would be nice. You know what happens when you choke? - When you look at me, her eyes brimming with something sweet and child that gives me the chills. - It is sweet, - says in a low voice, - the air is exhausted, little by little and it's like falling asleep, in a sense. Sure, of course, is more violent, - says, letting slip a half-nervous laugh that jars uncomfortably in the silence of the room, broken only by his voice - but is quiet. Othello, you've got this Othello? I have not studied much, at school, but my mother loved Shakespeare, I was a child filled his ears. Here, Othello, Desdemona when it's out, and choked. Because he loves her and knows that it will suffer less with a knife in his belly. - Just smile in a puff of breath exhausted. - I did not want it to be sweet. I wanted to hurt.
swallow again, and then again when I realize that I feel that the blockade is not simply at the throat down. I resign myself, running a hand over his eyes, and when I speak still has only to say what I should say at the outset, the question Fler been waiting for when I woke up, one which continues to respond without my 's has yet to post, but he still wants to hear.
- Fler, you've done? - I ask in a whisper, a whisper barely audible. Fler I poured him a cascade of words without brakes, and I suppose that's not even care to hear my voice say the words, he just wanted to know that I understood what she was telling me, because as long as I pretended to have no idea he just could not tell me everything.
- I was allowed to stand, it was heavy but it seemed very light. He looked at me and was scared, so scared. I beat him for hours, I do not know ... for days. - To tell him that I was away a lot less than a day, but he quickly resumed talking. - It was unrecognizable as soon as I finished, a mask of blood. I dropped to the ground when she fainted, but I continued to beat him even if no longer responds not only did not try to defend himself, but he could not even moan of pain, I know, give me a sign of life. I'm screwed. I started and I looked straight ahead, I spat in his face and then I crushed his head underfoot. - Stops and opens his eyes wide, staring at the wall while I drive like a block of marble, is struggling to curb the attempts. He used that expression with human beings has nothing to do. You crush the beetles, spiders, ants, mice at the most. Not people. - I've crushed the head . - Again, stressing the words. I pounded and pounded and pounded until I heard that they broke and sank in the shoe- Christ. - Folds in on itself, burying her face in her hands, and I am so paralyzed that I'm afraid to move because I'm tense and I could also go to pieces, but when I see him bend that way I lean toward him, I lose balance, the fall on him but somehow I can keep up, shake it and feel it melt into a flood of tears in my arms as she cries and complains like a baby and shaking like a leaf and I do not know, I have no idea how I should solve this situation.
- What are you doing? - Ask rocked a bit, 'and he, in tears, he lets out a hysterical laugh.
- I have no idea. - Responds, shrugging his shoulders - not that the bastard will be missed by anyone, so do not take risks ... I think - said, while I'm freezing of new blood in the veins, - But I have to do cleaning. - Sigh - I do not know, I'll call tomorrow and see what Sonny-- stops suddenly, shaking his head - I'll call Bushido - is correct - and we'll see what to do. - Pauses for a few moments, breathing in and out a bit 'hard. - Sorry. - Says so, - I'm talking in the language of another world.
am departing soon, returning to sit beside him but leaving him on the shoulder. His cheeks still streaked with tears, but his eyes, though bloodshot, are dry.
- It's your world. - Hint, strengthening his grip on his shoulder. He shakes his head.
- No, that's the trouble. - Whispers - not my world, not more, at least, and I can not pretend that killing a person is now equal to killing six or seven years ago.
I licked her lips, swallowing hard.
- had already done it? - I ask breathlessly. He turns to look at me and opens his lips, but the greenhouse immediately, shaking his head.
- I need some sleep, 'Chaku. - She says quietly, forcing a tired smile that looks more like a wound - Do you mind if I put down a few hours?
- No ... - I answer, - Of course not. - I stand up, leaving space and tucked just relax, resting his head on the pillow with an exhausted sigh and closing his eyes immediately. I watch him a bit 'remains standing beside the bed while listening to her sigh calm down slowly, and then turn off the light. I no longer sleep, if I ever had. I leave the room and enough for me to step into the hall to hear the muffled weeping of Daniel.
I leaned out the door and glanced at the sofa. Under the pile of blankets that I see that Daniel is buried his face in the pillow. Fler him and even have the same kind of crying is disturbing. I suppose that when grow in a place that does not allow you to do it when you need it, at some point becomes a little weep 'as explode. You hold it while you can, but you get to a point where you have to let you go by force, and can not be a quiet thing.
- Danny. - Approaching murmur.
- I'm fine. - I immediately stopped him, hiding under the blanket so he can not see his face - Stay there. I'm fine, just a moment. Time passes.
breathes in and out, shaking his head. I approach the same, putting her hand on the back of the couch and leaned slightly toward him.
- Listen, - I say - I did not sleep. I get a little 'ice cream and watch a movie if You have not even sleep. But if you want to sleep I'm going back to your room.
He sobs for a few seconds and then dares to pull his nose out of the tangle of blankets on which hath been knotted. It is purple and swollen and a bit 'choppy. Who knows how much she cries. Fler probably since he returned.
- Which movie? - Asks me uncertain - and the ice cream that taste?
I try to smile.
- you can choose both. - Answer with a shrug.
Daniel hesitated a couple of seconds, but eventually comes out, stands up and follows me into the kitchen. Even his eyes were dry now, and even his cheeks, however, remain wet. And as I look to fill a cup of hazelnut gelato and then drag it back there to put dvd hand column next to the TV, I understand that this kid has ceased to be a problem only Fler, and has become a problem even mine.

Play Simpsons Hit And Run Online

The legend of the jumper were

You should know that the Venetian childhood living with a constant average sense of inadequacy and a strong inferiority complex towards the "older generation" . And, mind you, is not that this is the result of accidental or inadvertent pressure on the new by the old guard. If there is a fault that our infallible predecessors is the conscious stain sadism that often permeates their view, even dissent against us ggiovani. And it is a sort of chain letter, an unhealthy habit that is perpetuated from generation to generation through which the frustration of the foo-ball round, never lived up to expectations of their parents, it flows to the child which in turn will fall, tripled, its offspring. Decade after decade, the burden becomes increasingly heavy, with a generation today that is on his shoulders the weight of grandparents and great grandparents that " they know what war means and what it means to go hungry and parents that they advertise their local struggles made of student riots and strikes of the workers.

This "generational rivalry" is I think there is something that the dawn of time and a little 'everywhere, but I am equally convinced that in reality the Veneto, once the country reaches its maximum height. If you come from this region and are no longer just in the very first coat, you will also have no doubt heard, at least once in their life, the irrepressible need to devalue the offspring and affirm your leadership with the key phrase. Yes, that. "I wing to age jumped ditches par longo " (the "I" are those "channels" of water flowing to the sides of some roads ed.).

The "jumping ditches" is exemplary of this superman dannunziano thousand resources embodied by the Venetian-type, so dutiful, good at everything and inexhaustible energy, to be able to jump from one 'end to end of a ditch, but from one bank to another. This Andrew Howe Noantri Veneto is a mythological figure, and I fear now entered the collective nightmares of people even infants, to strike terror into the same black man.

Superheroes aside, is certainly not uncommon for a young Venetian feel to certain types of speeches. Even today, news reaches me boys' bullizzati "from their friendly old men who go on to say" other than school, I was your age I was working in the fields "," there are more young people once "or" we ensure that we gave value to things . I'm certainly not here to deny that the current one is clearly a flawed and misguided youth and that this is a company devoted more and more consumerism and the god of money, but even I do not accept being told that Once everything was different and that people were so much better. Actually, I did not come to tell the story that once things did not happen and that the country people knew what were the "true values" because he kept what was good for the mind the golden rule that " Real wealth comes from the earth . Unfortunately, I could also mention the peasants from the list of persons who, during the regime, denounced the fascists the presence of hidden Jewish families in the country in exchange for cash. Or that abused women in the home. Beautiful people, right?

At the risk of falling into the usual speeches from inn, I feel I can say with confidence that the scum is now as there was at the time.

We both looked down upon the youth of today, we are not only the children of this day and age. We are also your children, and your "valuable" lessons learned. an examiner of consciousness on your part would be all well and good.