Soft Cervix During Menses

Sparizioni

Amundson Hall, office 432, the student must appear before the office door. Find a business: back in 15 min. Sits on the sofa in faux leather and waits. Sometimes it goes over his notes, he flipped through a magazine, send messages with the phone. Twenty minutes later suspected of having the wrong day, controls the time of receipt. You are not wrong. After forty minutes knocks. There is no one, the glass has a crack. Try to make calls, listen to the phone ringing at the door: it must be close, the sound is distinct. Then he turns and knocks on the door nearest that of my office. Try to explain to me, fiddling with paper timetables, shows me that the reception is at that hour. I already know (giàssao, Tullio De Piscopo would say). Quiet, Prof Mc ***** not return, the cartel is to be before we arrived, the man disappeared in May. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. I have almost five months. I added a sign explaining the situation. I wrote: went to buy cigarettes . In Italian. Now it happens that the student goes into full panic after twenty minutes, does not understand, knocks and sent him away. The scirtta creates havoc, but greatly speeds up the process. Mc *****, I like to think about what led him to disappear, as it did, where he went and what it does now. Maybe it's to work in Germany and will return to the presidential vote, as that Ametrano Pasquale Monaco of Bavaria returned to Matera in the car. Or life has changed, it is elsewhere to enjoy the money in an earthly paradise. Or they steal everything, even their identity. Professor Mc ***** is a fascinating space, is a void volume, a room with a desk and two chairs, the glass is broken. Professor Mc ***** is a possibility. The window in front of the door must have raised the blinds because the light illuminates the glass and the intensity changes throughout the day. It seems to speak, as the red lens of HAL 9000 in Discovery One, and communicates a prediction. Perhaps a return. Personally, I most often return to the departure of the professor. Returns are always fascinating, heroic. Those that work are very rare in the vast majority cases are worse, they are pathetic. Are complicated, but sometimes possible. A single return, only one, the one that works and the concept is strong because of it, because each of us has within himself the promises made to someone else. Do not know if other things will still make sense if the other we have believed, so he, at any time, and know that there are always questions. All this builds the epic return. And do not even need to specify under which there is a love interrupted or broken, it is natural that there is. What shall we say in Mc *****? redone the photo that you are worse, as the customs officer at the Brenner handing a passport? Only once does return, once the other side is a I've been waiting, I've missed a , a quiet start as if everything had already been written, as if everything was safe due. As if a path had to. For this Mc ***** and its space are fascinating. Write it here: in my return. I bet a dinner at the Vietnamese restaurant with the Danish pessimistic.

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Il ritorno di capitan K

St. Paul, St. Anthony Park. Officials of the big events for the second day. In addition to a pair of unidentified characters, 3 new arrivals to follow the league. Frida is a known homeless person in the place, lie down in the meadow and a half bundled in a blanket. The other two are the janitor and the janitor Tim retired Hank. The whole world is country, even the janitors here they are called by name only and never by surname, after all, are not professors. But now I know what the janitors are retired, since I have lost track of the janitor Silvano and once I met the caretaker Anna municipal market square Fusina. You watch football poor. The presence of Tim and Hank is motivated by the comeback of Captain Emil K. for the opposing team, the Romanian student apparently renowned for its spectacular play. The night before, Saturday, Emil and other friends had left at 4 and a half in that same park intent on spending time with some cane acid and with a strange self they had brought from the laboratory directly into a test tube. I do not think they are back home, because the parity was played at eleven in the morning. My team has the players counted. No reservations, I think a boycott against the rules of the bogus links, but two professors have asked their students home for a lunch early autumn. Emil is fresh as a daisy with the same shorts and the same shoes the night before. It only changes the mesh. One minute before the starting whistle amarcord and great nostalgia. He asks me in Italian football to make him happy and I reeled off all the Romanian players of Brescia I know, by Sabau in Hagi, not to mention Raducioiu, Lupu, Petrescu (ha giocato anche nel Brescia?) e lui, contento, ribatte con Walterone Zenga e Nicola Caricola attualmente alla guida di due club rumeni. Ma finisce a tarallucci e vino quando mi rivela di avere lui stesso dei parenti a Brescia (e sfido a trovare un rumeno senza parenti a Brescia) e di essere stato a Milano, di cui apprezza parecchio la stazione centrale. Non gli dico invece che il mio amico Federico *ongelli voleva organizzare un viaggio di turismo sessuale in Romania, giusto per non scaldare gli animi nel pregara. Il pubblico si aspettava il Maradona dei Carpazi e invece Emìl è stonato più di N****o il giorno delle olimpiadi di matematica a Cesena o di V***o a Spotorno quando cerca di rifilare pasticche di ecstasy dicendo che fanno perdere due kili a pop. The game itself is disappointing and we win with an overwhelming 1 to 0 initialed by our goalkeeper. I'm the only one not to celebrate because I refuse to accept that my opponents on the edge of waste goalkeeper and shoots like a attancate. But they are a silent minority. I distinguish only for a bad foul and senseless against the wing opponent, guilty of not having the ball and that I happened to pull just as I needed to vent the anger and bitterness that I have matured in the week. The mention of the brawl is appeased by Emil. I am grateful, if the port goes to Milan to see the two air runs next to the station and bathrooms with frequent misunderstandings. Well. We are still in the race for the playoffs.

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Comincia il campionato

St. Paul, St. Anthony Park: After a week in winter with an average temperature of 5 ° C, thaw Saturday and Sunday league. First day at eleven, at the same time matches on the grounds of St. Anthony Park, half an hour before the start of membership, mandatory university paper, divided faculty and shoes with cleats. League deadly serious. For the selection of chemical engineering, like the black jersey Casale. I wake up one quarter of an hour before I come to take, I collect things quickly came to the camp with the jersey of the heart, all-white jersey of the Corinthians of Sao Paulo. A minute of freezing, then exchange the shirt with the goalkeeper, a colored boy, and I find myself playing with my pajamas because it takes at least three sizes too mine. He is in a straitjacket and what you feel because after 20 seconds from the starting whistle we are under a goal, shooting from distance, he tries to free himself and the ball bags. The field is perfect, freshly cut grass, lines drawn in chalk, network with no holes, flags at the corners, two referees, one for each half of the field with added function of linesmen. Particle me suspicious and suspicion increases when I notice that one of them has sunglasses and belt paninari keep walking shorts. After ten minutes I understand the hint. The only detail is the likely age of the players, all between 24 and 30 years, goalkeeper forties: is a Chinese researcher who leads them badly and that Gaucci tessererà soon. After 10 minutes we lose 2 to 0. On the twentieth, 10 minutes after the first time, our test center forward a call from outside, because the ball was right to predict. The forty prepare a blatant dive, stumble and the ball falls on the network. The game is reopened. The Chinese are desperate to be in a pantomime of low alloy manga. Go 'Ciapa the rat would have screamed Panzera. During the interval we analyze the game: as far as my performance, the airline expects a world champion. The winds also disappointment among the 3 spectators on the sideline. The recurring question is why I deliberately kicked the ball foul side in action when the opponent striker was about to go away on its own to our door and I was the last defender. I avail myself of the right to remain silent just because the field in which we play is the latest, next to a busy street without any protection. In fact it was a criminal act, whereas the referee took some 'time to go through and retrieve the ball. The second time I leave it to slow motion. I do not know how to reach a through ball, the striker flies in our network and the defensive opponent mowing. The lawyer in question is a fair virago, a wardrobe with 4 doors which makes revenue compared to which Pasquale Bruno is a young lady. Inside of me justify the rigor with fear because, fortunately, there is no contact, the center to save his leg pretends to faint and collapses dead body. Tie, then immediately below a network and still, 4 to 2. Halfway through the second time I have a triangle with the help of the wing (a turkish guy who speaks a language most similar to the English Gypsy), and finally closes. Stop the ball with his chest, and lightning hits the ground just the goalkeeper. I believe they have marked around the world. No one is celebrating. Paninari The referee ruled out for offside. No one I have to say. Do not even try to ask why, I think I got it wrong, it was not because offside in front of me a couple of feet there was the terrible virago. Not bad, I think that we can recover because the opponents are tired. We lose 4 to 3, the weight goal annulled. At the end of the game I turn paninari for the explanation of the network canceled. Offside, offside. I would like to take his glasses blacks to discover the horrific truth, I try to remind him that the defender was in front of me. That denies. He was offside because the defender is a woman. If he goes leaving me dazed. Not even the misogynist Prof. Fuganti would conceive a similar rule for which the defendant if there is no woman . The rule is fine: even if the woman is attacking the goal is valid, if the defender is attacking the man and woman too. It 's not have anticipated the female version of Police, is a fragile Beguine. I'm curious about the rules and try to look into. No man can replace a woman or vice versa, the substitutions take place only within the same sex. Each team must have a minimum of two girls because the university is trying to promote women's football. Since there are not many girls (and even less children), who play soccer, what happens in practice is that each team has two girls and that's it, that means that no girl will ever be replaced. So why when I see one of our partner cyanotic tried to pity the referee, that he riamandata in the field. While I get home I remember something obvious. Americans like to play alone. Count only the victory, this does not take a sport in which they are mediocre. In case you have to play to force (the university is obliged to take a league of football) rather than changes the rules. You can not make substitutions if the throw is the opponent. If the goalkeeper moves out and leaves the door unguarded, the goal is not valid affected (this rule will cause an uproar, goalkeepers who dart into the midfield when the boys have the ball). We must spend at least 4 times before pulling the ball and score. It's no longer football. It never was. I'm insulted and mocked the forty Chinese proudly wears the jersey of Dida. is a big fan of AC Milan. I do not want him as a cheering Milan.

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Come eravamo

Minneapolis, my home: After two weeks of isolation many have asked that I finally did. All right. My diet consists of: a one-liter mug of coffee, courtesy of the secretary dwarf (and harmonica), the department, Miss JP every morning standing on the chair shall prepare a thermos of coffee for all students of the plan, a meal only, consumed about five o'clock in the afternoon, based on cholesterol, eggs, fat, saturated oils, fried Vietnamese origin, genetically modified vegetables and other vegetables take the local cuisine offers. Saturday and Sunday I cook and it's worse. are in great shape. My current status is shown in the picture. are on the beach of the lake at a rally Cahun Marxist-Leninist, and I wipe after a swim. At the supermarket I found the razor blades. The barber shop close to home has Parkinson's disease and I have trusted. But I'm okay. My brothers o R **** S ***** or recognize me anyway. Another great curiosity that pushes my readers is the house. I live in 20 square meters. No more, I would feel terribly if I did not see getting up in the morning refrigerator, kitchen, shower, toilet, water heater and a sofa. I felt horrible and desolate prairie if you could freely walk to reach the table in place that are exactly half a meter from the bed and half from the TV. And I do not feel at home with no carpeting, to the threshold of the cup. House my house for my little girl you are, you are as an abbey. told us one night a drunken bum in front of the GS of Spinoza slipping away in a mysterious stairs between the cartons and empty boxes. He's right. My house is on a hill overlooking the Mississippi. It is located in a green area of \u200b\u200bhouses with gardens. Too bad they built a wall to separate the river from the neighborhood. To protect it from too much nature added to the highway. But when cars pass you hear the river flow. Here is a photo of me while I go on the clothes from home to predict the water. Sometimes I invite some friends. Many think I became a hermit, but at times you need to be alone. Black Elk was on the hill to fast and came only after the hallucinations had revealed the path. Scar I do not think fast, but my desire to share fully insulated. In any case, I am a social guy and sometimes to avoid talking to myself call my friend Brian. In the picture you recognize the hat, and welcome him at the door of my humble abode with a big hug. In these two weeks I have found someone to hate, I found an enemy that I have studied carefully and which I will write soon. I also read a lot and prepared a press release locally of considerable interest to all those who are passionate about good journalism, real journalism, done by people who go there on the spot and that is not in the office attached to the phone. Fortunately, the independent press and incited by the Communist conspiracy is also found here. The two best titles are named and Onion Minnesota Daily. A breath of fresh information in a landscape that foment hatred and exploits the news. Too many advances hurt. For now I leave these pictures of me.