Katrina Kraven And Mandingo

injuries Midsummer

Un ferragosto costellato di infortuni.
Il primo è capitato a me. Uscito da una cena a casa di amici del Team, sono rocambolescamente riuscito a cadere in bici da fermo. Sembra facile, ma provateci.

Solo in tre, al mondo, siamo riusciti to do: I, Goofy and the inspector Clouseau.

the other two genes capable of so much company;

but their characters are pure fantasy ...

Basically I was riding the bike, next to the curb when it is detached from the taillight bracket bought by the Chinese, my wife has picked up from the ground and stretched it to me, I have to wriggle throw it in your bag under the seat, the front wheel of the bike was turned 90 degrees and I, with the hand-occupied cursed and twisted like a lantern snake, I blatantly missed the support of the foot on the curb and fell crashing to the pavement like a pear.

head.
And I'm still not so old. Think about what will happen in a few years ...

the end then, nothing serious, just a scratch below the eyebrow, even though I bled like a fresh out of a virgin of Nuremberg.

Well, I honestly just was not sober, I drank a little bit, but this is not the fact, since then the bike I was able to return home.
also facilitated by the fact that Spina - famously designed by urbanity drunk - there is a straight line, and that just guess the right way the first corner then the others are saying.
However, if the first corner the wrong, then it is a massacre: your path is transformed into a gory video game where there is a crash every ten seconds, after which you appear before our eyes the word " Game over! "

portrait of the architect who designed the city plan
of Lido di Spina

When I got home, the lights of the mirror revealed to me in the bathroom la cruda realtà.
Avevo un’ammaccatura sullo zigomo sinistro, sangue che sgorgava copioso dal sopracciglio ed un inquietante versamento sulla palpebra, che assomigliava ad una velatura di ombretto, inizialmente rosa, poi fucsia, violetto ed infine verdino. 

Molto pulp .
Se la metà destra del viso era la mia solita (e quindi di una bellezza imbarazzante), quella di sinistra era un curioso mix tra il volto di un pugile suonato e quello di una drag queen mal truccata.

...

Il giorno dopo, fin dal primo mattino mentre salivo in auto per tornare a Ferrara a recuperare un paio di occhiali di ricambio - visto che gli altri were gleefully smashed - and even for several days, has been a continuous justify what happened to all those who face exclaimed: "ARRRGHH! But what you did ?!?", looking at me with the expression of one who encounters Elephant man or Quasimodo of Notre Dame de Paris , and then my wife with a painful expression of solidarity pity.

umpteenth report on the sad occurrence I broke a bit 'bales, and then slowly I began to floral history, to make it more interesting, set in more exotic contexts ...

A bit' of patience and I will know.

Authentic Chinese Curry Recipe

small disadvantages of early holiday

early August. Just get
umbrella, everything had already been decided. The treacherous managing director had already arranged everything, and I was the crucial fourth group. No time to put the towel on the bed, no time to spread a little 'cream: pull out the paddle from the bag and I go back to the field.

I realized that, in the hot summer morning, dark clouds were gathering horizon.

Match, revenge, beautiful, couple exchange, new game, revenge, beautiful, fast pass a couple of hours, after which return to the umbrella, but sensing something abnormal.

Despite the outside temperature was well above the thirty degrees, under my umbrella the thermometer was -18.
garrulous I approached the bed of my wife, sensing that something was wrong in the thin layer of frost. Instinctively, I wondered why the raiders had filed the archaeological funerary mask of Tutankhamun - stolen from the Egyptian Museum of Cairo - under my umbrella, but immediately I realized that what I saw was not the death mask of Tutankhamun. ..

It was just my wife.
He had a nose so long that came to Logonovo.
With the voice of the possessed girl from the film "The Exorcist", tells me: "Do not take it anymore: I'm going home."
collects all his stuff is going to be undeterred and marched on the catwalk.
The chase trying to flatter, but I cling to a backpack to be dragged like the Indians of western that was hit by a bullet, but is thrown from the horse gets caught in the reins. Arrived at the bike rack, I look at it from pushing on the pedals of a cyclist Graziella as wingman to flight (see "Boogie" by Paolo Conte, whose board of listen to anything at all).
I just have to go back to collect my poor things, briefly explain the situation to the bystanders who pretended not to have noticed a regrettable incident, and I'm going home meditating on how to get by.
All in all could have been worse, after two hours spent to beg forgiveness crawling like a worm, we finally understood.

time mopping the trickle of blood across the courtyard, drank in the gully pots in front of the house, we were ready to return to the beach.

What then was not even so much blood.
Only I had left everything from his nose.
I had always told my doctor that I have weak capillaries.

...

I take this opportunity for two things: The first
: Congratulations on your birthday to my lady, hoping to soften a bit old age '.

Second, my lady, hard worker, he posted on Facebook the long-awaited photos of the D-day, the tournament bath plug August. Who would not be able to view them, you do live in the comments, or whatever you prefer: we will provide all the necessary information.