Do I Have To Weat Goggles In The

The sealing tape red / 2

Starring:
elderly customer
CP = AA = = Job weigher
IO Mauro Pes

Summary of the previous episode: "It 's Saturday night and a supermarket produce department of any IO (Mauro Pes, 08/11/1979) is watching in disbelief and powerless to fight a strange food. The AA (elderly patrons, 12/14/1940) Read by inexplicable delusions of omnipotence is openly defying the CP (Job weigher, born np) with strokes of red sealing tape. The CP responds blow for blow, but the day of reckoning is at hand .... " credits! In your shopping cart

The AA has yet to be closed three bags: one containing three yes or no carrots, a salad kind of swollen and protruding a pineapple. Property until it is convinced I try to look into his eyes to see us burn the sacred fire of war, but I can not. The AA has two eyebrows cascade that cover your eyes like two gray lenses and hairy. For its part, CP evident in waiting, has just humiliated with the second round of the tape and now awaits Golden apples in shirt sleeves, the next move of the opponent.

Move comes as a surprise, because the AA, with no drop of half a degree, grab the last bag and ZACK! He put the machine with frightening ease. The salad gentle weeping of water spray from all sides, but this is not at all moved by the CP, which grabs the brutally tearing the head and some green tuft ZACK! Gives her a second, unnecessary red collar.

For a moment I have the feeling of being in a Candid Camera, and so I look around. Find hidden cameras. Operators disguised. Fake walls. But I find none of that. Individual only stracchino. Yes, stracchino abandoned between peanuts and tree nuts, "Bastardi murderers!" I think, without realizing that the AA has already sealed the carrots and is now safe to remove the pineapple ... (continued)

1

How Long Home With Bronchitis

Care / Part

Read the first part ...

Now try to imagine them all together. Sit. Water. Try
their figures beyond the vapors.
Be guided by coughing.
from hoarseness. From
whispered laments.
Old age is there with you. To soak. A few steps away.
And the water embraces all of you, regardless.
The skin girl.
pains vanish.
Negative thoughts go away.
There remains only one question.
A question that has a single answer.
An answer that you do not like.
Think of the movements of an old man. Any.
Think of its instability. And then the water. Think water and the instability of an old man. Imagine
its slow pace.
Condividetene panic.
attend its penis. Make your
his needs.
get convinced of its necessity.

Now turn around and notice.
Yes, noticed. You got it.
Notice the wet gloss of the tiles.
Note the confusion of slippers.
Note the carelessness of the attendants. Note
, so you notice, the remoteness of the toilet.
And then be surprised. Marvel
resistance of some old bladders. Marvel
immobility of certain bodies. Marvel
the serenity of certain faces. Marvel
yourself. Standing. Out of the water. (Continued)

Communication Cards For Stroke Patient

care / first part

Imagine a spa pool.
A large outdoor thermal pool, surrounded by greenery.
Think of the pleasant heat of the water.
At its therapeutic properties.
The strong smell of sulfur emanating.
Try to sniff the air.
Riempitevene lungs and freaky.
Dileguatevi in \u200b\u200bthe hot vapors that float on the water.

Ok.
Now turn around and notice.
Notice. Yes, you read right. Note that ruin
bus parked fifty yards.
Notice all those elderly people who descend from the steps of carpet. Notice the old
advancing towards you. Note
his hump, his wrinkled skin, his teeth hairpieces. Notice how
stumbles, such as trembling, as he limps.
Note the metal of his crutches, wood marquetry of its staff, its garish plastic slippers. Note
her purse Nylon transparent and faded in his towel, his change of underwear so yellowish. Note
lust in his dozens of eyes.
are coming, think of it right there with you, immersed in pleasure. (Continued)

Broken Capillaries On Baby Face

The sealing tape red / 1

Starring:
elderly customer
CP = AA = = Job weigher
IO Mauro Pes

Saturday evening

Hours 19:30

a supermarket produce department of any

The elderly customer has already selected its fruit: he Sniff, he touched, he imagined savaged by his teeth in ceramics. He also chose the vegetables, but with less care, because that is good or bad if eaten in soup all week. Now everyone is in the transparent bags. Now everything must be sealed and weighed. The AA goes south to a counter on which jagged towering two digital scales.
There, on the shore of oilcloth, the saleswoman was weighing the latex gloves and the viability of a frozen flounder fillet. E 'shoulders and his eyes off the clouds clear of prepared salad, however, is alert: alert the arrival of new customers, the smell in the air stuffed like a bloodhound, "They're coming," he thinks, while the AA and myself to advance by stealth.

The AA beats me for a fraction of a second approaching the truck, a fishing bag any, turns it on himself to obtain a closed surface and ZACK! He sticks to the bag sealing tape red domain of the order weigher.

Cala silence. The sliding doors do not slide. The speakers are not looking any more.

The CP remains impassive, does not open his mouth seize the same bag already sealed by the AA and ZACK! Make a second step in sealing a red ribbon. Then weigh it, tag it and abandon them. Far, on the counter.

In the meantime, however, the AA picks up another bag and repeat the process: ZACK! Cabbage closed.

The CP looks at him sideways. The hatred mounts. A tuft of hair falls from its cap of the Marines, but his reaction is always silent. Rapid, but silent: he takes the cabbage and ZACK! Second round of red tape sealer.

I expect. I smell of disinfectant from the hospital, but say nothing. Do not fly a fly.

The AA now has a bag of Golden Delicious apples in her hands. The fast runs in the bag. He almost breaks through the sternum is. He pretends to lose his balance and ZACK! The tape ends with the aid of the red (more ...)

1

What Does Increasing Bilirubin Mean

Unonero is in collaboration with:




Fur Annajella:
"You feel when you've got him!"

Sheriff Of Rottingham Kazoo

poem of the poem

I say goodbye my dear
poem I know, I will caverete
by themselves do not know why you But I have to leave
there is something that pushes me to go

life without you I will not be silent
more voice to say something
He had a way of saying things light
Especially those difficult

maybe I'd have to resign ourselves to the silence? Sinking
thoughts in the usual absinthe?
Or try to really talk?
make every effort to be honest?

Yes, it is a declaration of love
Dedicated to you makes less noise
not reproach me for my mistakes You take
the joys and pains

What if I regretted having escaped
And I told you one day "I'm back"
You will be waiting for me joyful
totally unaware of how things

In real life does not work like
not enough to repent and say "now" My advice is
"Rimanetevene here!"
On paper, everything is perfect
There is no pain, only pleasure

why I lived with you
But I said to myself "Is that what you want?"
The answer I have not found
last tear, and the paper is wet.

Curtain Wire Home Depot

Proesiola gitaiola

Alarm and coffee,
beard and bidet.

Then the costume,
than a little '
a child or if you prefer, a little' from grandpa.

The program is going to do some 'What things around. It's me, the usual Zouave, and Giuraina Graniella. After completing the preparations, we go on our powerful Lepo, my mare, and we set off at full speed toward the pristine beaches of Tolemaia forests.

The journey is quite normal, and his description
can jump.
What matters is the destination,
a geography lesson.

Here is the coveted Sea! Here, left the outposts of the gatherers of gold! Here, right, the forests of the moose! Wailing
our rainbow flag in the ground, while Zouave urine around to mark the territory. Graniella Giuraina and take off their suits for travel and throw themselves screaming on the waves. We do the same soon after.

From here a succession of cries frost
tips of the feet and bellies drawn.
"Watch out behind a breaker."
"I do not fear you, I am a lion!" Among
splashes or flying fish
put away the sad swimmers. Here
Graniella

silky and beautiful with the waves bouncing balls.
"Look Zouave!"
seems his grandfather. And you look around
Giuraina
seems happy with how the world works.
And then there are none that I am
but I would be the god Neptune.

The sun is getting hotter. Intervals between a bath and the other becomes shorter. Liters of cream poured on our bodies, mingling with liters of sweat. We meet under the rainbow sea to find some 'relief from the heat and eat lunch by myself and Giuraina procured. Zouave ingurgita fragorsamente the last bite and ruin the soil. Reappear, deburring, after several hours. Graniella also falls to the ground, apparently overcome

for me just pretends.

Giuraina and I defy death with their eyes closed and we set off the waves. I feel a sudden pain in the abdomen. "Here - I say - reached by the end of me." at a glance that it was just a burp-flavored game. We leave
lulled by the sea and the waves kindly pull us to shore. The sand there massaging the legs, arms, shoulders and slips right into the most hidden parts of us, protecting us.

Hey anyone, there is little to poetizzare
the sand from the ass you have to shovel!

Here, always the same prosaic! But let's move on.

The sun gives us a gull wing
maybe it's just a greeting
fact is that leaves me speechless. On the ruins
since there will be a step
, but I prefer the landscape.
will be the sea, the sun, the rainbow
or maybe hungry but I feel stupid. Let's find
Vinicio
sends us off with a bad omen.

In a few minutes we lost but not lost. The smell of rain opens his eyes, which rocketed into the sky in pursuit of strange birds and purple are a rainbow that decided to die in the sea, also purple.
try, make mistakes, we talk, we decide, we listen, we, err, back, spot-on, sit down, order, caress, talk, eat, laugh, sigh, we look, we ask. Let's go.

And here we return to poetry
dedicated to those who go away
eyes are red
maybe the night we moved
jumps
we are protected from black and red
sleep falls on those responsible
Hello gentlemen Michele
driving at night makes me feel good mates
look serene and sleepy
rest, his eyes wet

I do not know what the real reason
perhaps joy, perhaps forgetting
sorry if I miss an occasional rhyme are not
most of the first machines around

as day
turn off the music with my brain
feel the breath, the most beautiful flower. Once you arrive at your destination

back myself, and angry ape:
"Ugly bastards we arrived, finally you woke

I hate the traffic!
sclera makes me want to drive at full speed!"
Then just one hand and a few words:
"What a beautiful day, I make rhyme."

Not As Strong As Seroquel

Journey to Hades

kidnapped, imprisoned, violated. Here's how I feel.

It all started at 12:50, the train of Salcido.
Me and my friend Zouave we are leaving for Romilda, the capital of the empire. The heat on the dock lights cigarettes and melting the soles. Our attention is drawn to a woman, tall, statuesque, very intriguing. Course is accompanied by a man much older than her. Math. Lack of business forced us to travel first class. To do this we had to sell on the black market three goats, five chickens and a pound of peaches. But to arrive in the capital, we do all the people of the province. The
train departs. They open the newspapers. The air conditioning started to have problems now. The seat is tattooed on our asses young. But we do not have the audacity to complain.
That she, the woman intriguing, it passes directly to the latrine. The flushed look. She staggers like a drunk beating up old people, seats, door jambs. Or is the heel of twelve or has problems in the temporal lobe. Its charm disappears as she disappears down the toilet. I do not see anymore.
The train stops. Just in front of us is a square guy. You hate now. He hates his pink shirt with a print of cock, pumped his muscles, his gaze from dead calf. Me and my friend Zouave we exchange glances of understanding. The boy must die. We offer and pretend kind of goat's milk, precendetemente poisoned. He drinks it and dies. But it seems to sleep. We look forward to our good deed for the day.
The train goes. Wobbles, rattles, scarrella.
we fall asleep to stop suffering. There
alarm speaker hum: "We apologize for any inconvenience due to technical problems we have 10 minutes late." We look around, we are in the midst of the bush. We see the dark eyes that look at us: a tribe of natives. Suddenly they break through the inertia and attack us. It is a shower of poisoned arrows, blowguns, spears fire. But the hard shell resists and leave again. We smile happy. And we also smile the boy died, trappings of practical application to his lips drooping.
But we have nothing to laugh about. At the next station happens the imponderable. It looked like a normal stop, but it was not so. We hear an evil voice from the speaker, "id odratir itunim 08 noc omeritrap ocincet otsaug nu id asuac to! !!!!" . A strong smell of sulfur diffuses into the wagon, older women naked and give themselves up to lust, the dead rise and blasphemy in the dialect of Bari "offers Cassan, offers Cassano, ve 'ffe mmocc to Mamta" , children vomit semen, a dwarf feeds on the feces of a police officer and so on. I
Zouave and we hide in the bathroom waiting for the gates of hell are closed. The wait is long. Acute screams shattered the air hot. Some malignant being punches the door of our hut. Me and my friend we look cursing the day we decided to leave.
abruptly the train again. The smell of sulfur is replaced by the comforting smell of urine. We go out. The old slumber, the decaying corpse, children crying, the dwarf law. Everything seems back to normal. But we still feel the fear that seizes the innards.
Finally the train slows down. We arrived at Romilda with only 160 minutes late.
Let's go home in the village of All Saints' Zouave, and we eat lamb virgin, watered with extracts of exorcising magic Chinotto and mysterious plant.

Menards Pointe Countertops

The mystery of the missing candy

A small house of Italy there was a party. It was his birthday and Mom and Dad had invited all the neighborhood kids. A mass of lively little boys, always in search of raids in the district. Unstoppable.

Dad Joseph had said, mock frightened "Oh Camilla will not be too many?" and her: "I think so well I - voice and consenting to Mom nonriesceanegarenienteallasuapiccolina - but basically grew up together."
were then invited everyone.
The party was fine. Everyone enjoyed themselves. Those who ate Dique, who say it, those who danced, who made the cascamorto with the girls, who played with Lego, who the doctor, who in the war, some with the words, who with her dolls. In many combed.
But above all Italy enjoyed. And Joseph and Camilla did not ask for more at a party.
A sudden thunderstorm broke out on the garden of Italy. Thunder, lightning, rain-shower. Who escaped, who screamed, who complain, who wept, who sheltered in the house. And inside the house, took what we could call the central point of this story.
Some children had taken refuge in the luxurious lounge on the far right. They were all a bit 'down in the dumps, but still confident that the resumption party. Maybe it was just a passing storm, thunder an exception to the rules. Then
"stock" , a sudden blackout. Dark room. Excited giggles, moans barely held, the rustle of cotton, the smell of wet dog - that feels better in the dark. Again "stock" back light. You look around bewildered.
"Where are the candies that were on the table?" question asks severe and Joseph.
The kids look at each other with accusing eyes.
"Children, come on, you have already eaten much, so you'll have indigestion. ... Empty your pockets"
At that point a child - but could be named Aldo in many other ways - they up and says with a solemn tone: "I am innocent I'm sorry, but I would really like the pockets I have not the time to empty them, I have to keep playing."
What would you think a child like that? That has something to hide.
And a minister? And a prime minister?

Chapstick Nutrition Info

Buffon could ask my grandmother how to treat his sciatica

We are in times of world. And as I was - until proven otherwise - a human being, I also want to speak of this FIFA World Cup 2010.

Our dear country. The only positive thing that we have seen so far is the beard of De Rossi. Giving him a rude and aggressive appearance, this choice makes the technical and tactical pawn ideal place in midfield in order to seduce or scare opponents. The shaved head and tattoos of prison by Pepe are definitely the right choice to remind the world that we are a people of "maffia, the macaroni Mandulinata" . Bad choice of deploying Marchisio: saw her angelic appearance and boyish, would be better off the bench. These could be also covered.
ratings to negative Iaquinta (short hair highlight the nose, dear Vincent, you should know you're a professional footballer), Camoranesi (the tail is no longer the USA 1994), Montolivo (my dear, just a bit 'of weights. The player does not dry from the physical world is brought closer to 82) and Chiellini (ah nice, a player can not have that nose. Rebuild.). And finally, Buffon: what is this history of sciatica? It does not cool to say, is really out. You can now rob your wife is the most up-to-date a headline like: "Alena Seredova: Gigi and the other, giving only the best of me, and they give me the candy shop" .
For technical comments, expect to see Italy play a football game and do not perform in a fashion show. With a bad soundtrack, too.

My Boob Is Showing Through My Swimsuit

for not being able to neither read nor write

... I have decided it is better to write. And I'm not the only one.

In my sleepless nights I have developed a personal theory.
We talk about environmental impact, biodiversity, global warming etc.. Often
arguments to show off brand new bright and untouched more empty conversations. But whose fault is it? (Do not empty speeches, each of which is morally responsible and liable).
Moh I know of who is at fault, Sorbola! look around. Are there not many journalists who write without saying anything? Or so many novelists who write just to smear on reams reams of valuable cellulose? Here is revealed a mystery, yes, global impact: who is to blame for deforestation? Of these vile specimens of idiots.
How many millions of copies sold Dan Brown? How many thousands Moccia has sold? O Faletti or Ron Hubbard? You do a calculation of how much paper was wasted minds diverted to feed and we found where he went on to finish third of the trees felled. And not only. And all the money they have pocketed shady paper smeared with shit in their non-artist? Here's the other third. And the mysterious last third, where he went to hide? In newspapers, press releases, and in all other totems mezzucci that are used to talk, comment, analyze this stuff.
In writing, I had many illuminations. Here is a list is not exhaustive of all managers:
- editors, journalists and readers of gossip magazines;
- deputies, senators, Ministers and other public officials with laws, decrees & co absolutely worthless to the community;
- writers of fiction about saints, priests, police and so on, writers of reality television, television coops & co. In short: 90% of what we hear and see on TV is written on paper. Of course, the listeners are guilty in equal measure;
- advertising agencies and clients with their lousy print ads, their BTL flat, empty their brief.
For all these examples - and for those who have good heart to report in the comments section - I suggest that the amputation of hands and feet, removal of the eyeballs, tongue and ears. And for safety, even castration and sterilization for men and women, to prevent their recurrence.

Lia Sophia Hostess Invite Wording

not only share but share

My Blood Blister Is Black

"which are only seven "Eh

Ah yes, the notes are only seven. I wonder why more than 2000 years we produce music that ranges from medieval memory tritone (diabolus in music , a bit 'as the note on South Park sucks ) the San Remo song to atonality of Schoenberg until the silence noisy Cage punk, pop, and just think, 'even the Pooh.
Just combine these seven (plus flat, sharp, fourth, seventh, etc..) For phrases, speeches, novels are all different from each other. A little 'as the words: compose and decompose to put in a form accessible to the world our thoughts. This brief reflection I came up listening to some guys from Australia, the Axis of Awesome , who mixed some 56 pieces, all based around the DO, ranging from commercial trinkets (Mika, Lady Gaga) to the Beatles to U2. As will become clear, this post is just an excuse to continue to write and to put some 'music in my words. What song will come out? Will already Famous. I hope so.

Funeral Guest Book Quote Ideas

If I 'was fire, arderei' the world

if I 'was the wind bombard

if I 'was the water' drowning

if I 'was God mandereil'en deep

If I' had Pope, 'then merry

All of Christians Imbrighi

if I 'had' mperator know 'what to do?

all round to cut off the head

If I 'death was from my father andarei

if I' get away from him was life

faria similarly to me 'mother

if I' as they are and I was Cecco

torreo young women and graceful

and old and ugly Lassere others.

If I 'was fire, arderei' the world

if I 'was the wind bombard

if I' was the water ' drowning

if I 'was God mandereil'en deep.

Angelina Jolie Lips Big Deal

A strange silence of NORMA

E 'once again that I stand before a blank sheet of paper and try to give full meaning to the words and pictures that I turn in my head for days.

Maybe that's where the mistake in trying to line up what we experienced this week in Romania: I recognize myself in the words of my fellow travelers in the requirement of a "silence unknown" most people find difficult to understand and which sometimes even sarcastic smiles.

is not a negation of what is here and even guilt for what we have left, but rather a strange jealousy of memories and a difficulty, at least for me, to express this experience in one sentence. I can do it with those who were there, simply recalling anecdotes, because I know feel the same things in, but with others is a disaster! The single, trivial, an expression that I keep repeating for days is: "an experience I will never forget," then I look down and changed the subject.

I can not and do not want to forget, for love and simplicity of living in these days deserve to be kept always present and taken to the heart and transmitted in every moment of our lives, whether at home, at work, in the department.

In this love inevitably falls clown mask, makeup melts into an embrace, but tried not spend time in a smile that won over in silence or in an unknown tongue touches the heartstrings more than a thousand words .

We tried to bring joy to our children and Odorehiu Cluj, prepared for the worst: we went home just as happy.

Many thanked us and continue to do what we do, as if every time you climb Mount Everest or who knows what we did amazing things ... the instinct is to answer: it's so hard to see the happiness, even in an infinitely short moment?

probably some time between the memories will become more rational and I'll be able to describe this experience in words make sense ... for the moment I want to continue to live the tangle of emotions inside me, to review the smile of the mentally Romanian children and feel the warmth of tears and hugs Sister Emilia that warm even in the cold of Transylvania!

My Dog Poops Blood With Stool

... I miss ... Tiziana

Sometimes, in this unpredictable life we wonder what's missing! such as lack of time of day, such as that of heart and intellect ... what word is missing, as silent as a gift, such as cinema, as a dress, as the love ....
always missing something: is the lack to make us go out every day, to invent, to make us grow ... sometimes we lose, surrender, give up.
sometimes happens to someone who fails himself and then life calls even stronger ...
"I miss, I miss, I miss you" an obsession from which you can be born ... again!
...
now, after days, after this is done with my pain memory and nostalgia, and I entrust to time, my time, hope that everything remains crisp and alive ... now, now I wonder what was missing in those children.
...
should not be difficult in a place that you find a house to accommodate the many shortcomings that arise daily and powerfully in evidence ... but it is hard ... ...
I was born and lived in Italy, ok not the best country, nor even the most advanced, but it is called advanced and here I am trained, ate, drank, studied, loved, hated too, and here I have become a 34.
I eat, I dress, I have a roof over your head, work, have friends, I cultivate my culture, I love ... the verb have is not lacking, is structured and enriched ... but never enough (as for all of us Westerners who we borrowed ... and we (always) more)
...
Meeting children, live in their midst, or at least I try ... I was told the second day (and for that I thank him) "do not waste a moment ... every moment that you will not live with them the regret for your return. "
are with them ...
I miss the milk in the morning and the hot black coffee ...
I miss the pasta ...
I miss going to the bathroom (my gut was excited and with difficulty relaxes) ...
I miss the duvet warm and light in which I wrap in my nights waiting for sleep ...
I miss ...
I miss ...
I miss ...
takes a village to miss all this stuff that I used ... I feel stupid even banal ... ... spoiled ...

but I am and I am too.
passes the village and all the space in me is free to accept them, "my" little ... we come with the force of a volcano that quivers in the desire to espldere he has inside.
entano tiptoe screaming or taking you by hand or enter
tirandoti
come with the skirt suit new or with a bow on his head ...
... I swear ... I found everything in those ...

love all over

joy
dignity of the other responsibilities

maturity
heat

honesty ...
what's missing

what's missing money?
new clothes?
books?
great food?
... of course it is missing, but what I feel is a lack thinner ... more subtle, harder to accept and then to see ...
...

I find it is in their midst

is with them ...
THERE BE SEEN
MISSING THE LOOK OF A MOTHER AND A FATHER OF MISSING
pat on the back, THAT THAT IT SAYS: "MY SON BRAVO BRAVO ... Keep it up"
...
MISSING MOTHER's embrace, that which arises from the stomach and reaches the heart with all the heat that the mysterious bond has.
... Sunday
a child has changed clothes 4 times, 4 times paraded in front of me and questioned me "beautiful? Beautiful? ... I'm beautiful '"
was beautiful, I swear by all 4 times beautiful ...
Someone tell him please, someone picks her up and say "you're beautiful, you're good ... you."

hours I'd give them my sgardo ... sitting on the steps of the big house, I would look for hours with their beauty.
...
thanks to all.
Titty

Can You Use Chicken Broth After Use By Date?

Life is the bela ... SARA

Life, life, life is the bela, bela

All you need is the umbrellas, the umbrellas,

you repair the head

festaaaaa seems one day ... .

For many days we did not do anything but sing this song with the children ... But today, it seems that the party is over ...

Everyone is back to their lives: there are no more children to welcome us with their wonderful smile in the morning you just wake up, there will be no hugs, cuddles and laughter ... incredible.

never hear "The mulz animals for 3 consecutive days (which translates as" Happy Birthday ")

... I had the great fortune of being able to celebrate my 26th birthday with them and I can say is was the most exciting birthday of my life.

I am sad, it's a strange feeling ... but then, life is strange ... and maybe only those who have lived with me these emotions can understand me ... the greatest gift, however, they did to us ...

No matter how different we may be one by others or not speaking the same language ... it's hard not to understand a hug and a smile made my heart ...

And then I'm happy, because even though in a sense, this short period (unfortunately), but so intense is over, a more resume, with some other children, but with the same desire to bring a smile to those who most need it ... and believe me ... we all need it ... ADULTS INCLUDING .

Selling Prgans Should Be Legal Pros And Cons

Dinner

We arrived near the end of this adventure ... :-( (

Last Supper Romanian Ardelean House, with adjoining discorsone final !

There will be time to tell our feelings , experiences, emotions . .. and you still see so many images, so many moments that each of us will never forget ...

For now we want to send a big kiss to all the wonderful children who we met!

Men Breastfeeding From Women

final few photos ...

Here we are with some photos of yesterday and today we were in debt ...

Our arrival in Cluj , yesterday morning ...

Visit Pediatric Hospital in Cluj where clown no one had ever dared first!

I balloons are good for ... Denisa teething! ;-)

Pause pond after a radio interview on Radio Cluj ... A

salutone from Transylvania to our wonderful volunteer Genny B.

And finally ... the hospital offered us dinner!
chicken broth and ... what else?! ;-)

How Long Should A Marine Battery Last

Tale Act Two

MONDAY '
In the morning we were all asylum Odorheiu where we met with about 140 children.
Here the population and mainly Hungarian and the schools there are no mixed classes: Romanians and Hungarians are always separated. In the case of this morning only 30 children were Romanians.
Sister Emily, who now travels always with us, was our interpreter. Start a taste test among other things, because after the opening promo sketch show, where Mark and Peter attacked the jacket to an invisible coat, and she went behind imitating improvising, leaving us pleasantly surprised!
In the afternoon we were all a ride into town for a moment of relaxation and transition to the supermarket to get ice cream for all kids and children of St. Joseph home.

In the evening, the live radio with Tau, where there has been a Sister so excited emilia together with Professor Franzoni. Eventually, there comes a message from Italy-which says \u0026lt;> and she starts crying from the emotion ... and we with you (Aurelia crying for almost a week, will the onion ...)

errata
boys who are guests of the house St. Joseph are not, as iniziamlmente thought, all orphans. The House welcomes children \u0026lt;\u0026lt;trouble in>> whose families can not assume either on the recommendation of social workers. Being here, we have collected evidence of very different situations: some children are able to see the parents and regularly return home by brothers and are here for economic hardship .... others behind stories of domestic violence.

Rodent Ulcer Cats Mouth

Tale ... Holiday greetings and

Sunday
After Saying goodbye to dances and songs, laughter and tears the other volunteers met here, our fellow citizens, in the afternoon we met the children of the department of pediatric surgery hospital of Odorheiu Secuiesc. Children, mothers, nurses and doctors have danced and laughed with us ... despite fatigue, with each passing day and every show we do becomes more compact and more modestly good.
We note some concerns of local people not used to seeing the kind Claun turn freely on the ward, with the truck on the street or the supermarket!

Dinner: 100 pizzas around the campfire, and singing and dancing together passionately ... still great emotions we bring in Bologna ...
sore point for the Claun: here are the pizza with ketchup, peas and corn ... perhaps debatable, but we are not here for that!

Tonight the guys at home have found a gypsy boy of 4 and a half years that had slipped inside .. Sister Emilia tells us that almost every night comes to the door, waiting for him outside the adult and she first wanted to call the police ... then sent him away with a bag of clothes and stuff to eat ... our sister has a really big heart!

Humor Wedding Wording

...:-((

's time to greetings ... this is the last night that we spend here.

Tonight, about 3, leaving for Cluj, to continue our mission. The girls

us organized a feast ... and they want dance! But we just can not bear to do!

musicians warm up ...

and takes us a bit 'of melancholy ...

Is It Ok To Smoke Weed If You Have A Popped Blood

to school this morning ... Here we are again

Today we visited a kindergarten!

140 screaming kids!

Retirement Cirtificate

After a day of silence due to technical problems Today we are again connected with the world!
And in the day, we will post the pictures backward and also our direct intervention in RadioTau last night! : D

I Need A Community Service Letter

Pizza and bonfire!

We kept our promise ... bonfire and pizza for all children!

pizza
160 300 liters of coca-cola
and many, many smiles!

Children delirious! : D