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Old 05-13-2011, 10:25 AM   #1
2vt8c2p4
Second Lieutenant
 
Join Date: Feb 2011
Posts: 408
2vt8c2p4 is on a distinguished road
Default They said a woman kind of stupid

We care about our people and around people we love it!

They said a woman kind of stupid, in fact, sometimes that happens. Always so stupid ~ crazy ~ so so silly.

may be personal, perhaps because he can not say a few minutes, but, journeying to the front of the wearer's computer screen also may be more time for the day. Laugh sometimes silly,Franklin Marshall, really silly.

some things people can not imagine some people will never understand people and life changes, the truth. Created a lot of hypocrisy, audacity is no such person. Sometimes,Mercurial, even if you are on the second eye is also filled with hatred,Achat Franklin Marshall, full of tears, the next point has to face with a smile to the face of all.

how many times you did not indulge in, but do not want to have in a wow, but do not play, I can do? In fact, many are not aware of other people smile is a painful and sometimes there is no need to find someone you had any brains, and perhaps other ways of life change,Franklin & Marshall, it just flies and happier!

Gradually, the habit of the people looked. Others say put down the hypocrisy, may be better, but there are so many people down. That is not wrapped in a piece of human skin wow? ? Life has chosen to silence the music, because every day the day before, but do not represent the will had only come to know, a sad day and the road twists and turns. Sometimes a smile does not mean that happy face. That is just the heart of the displeasure of the cover.

I have to admit, sometimes good hypocritical], but also kind of stupid, and do not blame me, I'll be properly buried, perhaps]]]] is only buried.



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Abstract: Our people and the people we love it,franklin marshall pas cher! They said a woman kind of stupid, in fact, sometimes that happens. Always so stupid ~ crazy ~ so so silly.
...

as if there is a feeling called happiness

can not find the home of their own feelings

Love you, can not give you happiness - Speechless


The driver clambered into his seat, clicked his tongue, and we went downhill. The brake squeaked horribly from time to time. At the foot he eased off the noisy mechanism and said, turning half round on his box--
"We shall see some more of them by-and-by."
"More idiots? How many of them are there, then?" I asked.
"There's four of them--children of a farmer near Ploumar here. . . . The parents are dead now," he added, after a while. "The grandmother lives on the farm. In the daytime they knock about on this road, and they come home at dusk along with the cattle. . . . It's a good farm."
We saw the other two: a boy and a girl, as the driver said. They were dressed exactly alike, in shapeless garments with petticoat-like skirts. The imperfect thing that lived within them moved those beings to howl at us from the top of the bank, where they sprawled amongst the tough stalks of furze. Their cropped black heads stuck out from the bright yellow wall of countless small blossoms. The faces were purple with the strain of yelling; the voices sounded blank and cracked like a mechanical imitation of old people's voices; and suddenly ceased when we turned into a lane.
I saw them many times in my wandering about the country. They lived on that road, drifting along its length here and there, according to the inexplicable impulses of their monstrous darkness. They were an offence to the sunshine, a reproach to empty heaven, a blight on the concentrated and purposeful vigour of the wild landscape. In time the story of their parents shaped itself before me out of the listless answers to my questions, out of the indifferent words heard in wayside inns or on the very road those idiots haunted. Some of it was told by an emaciated and sceptical old fellow with a tremendous whip, while we trudged together over the sands by the side of a two-wheeled cart loaded with dripping seaweed. Then at other times other people confirmed and completed the story: till it stood at last before me, a tale formidable and simple, as they always are, those disclosures of obscure trials endured by ignorant hearts.
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