Carrot And Hot Sauce What Does It Do

Aylynn

This may seem like the story of a journey, it's really an incredible story of how Aylynn is my alter-ego when I become too funny to be true.

I started Aug. 12, as usual at the last moment, with the project to go straight to Paris and then reach Ste Erasmus and Manu that were there.
I definitely wanted to go to Britain, perhaps up to the rocky Brest in search of witches and Celtic circles magical.
The train was traveling to the French capital at night. Quattro sediolini lying on the mo 'with single bed and a half then I try to call my friends, but neither responds. The sending of text messages in Britain aims to achieve between 4-5 days. Then I fall asleep and I dream:
I'm looking at a dusty descent to the sea, a kind of inverted Y steep. In the water there is a swing built with wooden beams and the children playing around us. Music of flutes in the distance. A cricket huge jumps in front of me and I follow. When I stop he stops, turns his head and looks at me questioningly. Waiting for me. Then approaches a tall and lanky with a face mask with aviator glasses to the bottom of the bottle, peeled and with the lobes of the metal circles the diameter of a couple of inches, like those African tribes. E 'covered with tattoos for half of the body and is' very bad. Behind the lens, however, has a sweet look and friendly. In any case, I trust. He takes off a ring and I put on my ear lobe finger ragged, laugh and feel invincible. Then I realize that the beach there are Stephen and Manu taking the bath and greet me with his hand.
giant says, "Good and evil do not exist at all. Do not waste time trying to be good, rather it seeks to be right. " The cricket looks at me and smiles.
I wake up a bit 'strange in the compartment empty. "Dreams", I think.
turn on my mobile and I'll get a message Page. My friends, just dreaming, I respond. Have become infected by my desire for adventure and send me a sentence dark, almost encrypted: "see you in the Huelgoat 8 / 8 to 8".
In Paris I stay very short. Sitting at a table in a bar I do a quick consultation of the village map to see where I am. I find that is a forest not far from NAME. I have about five days before and decided to walk around in broad outline the path to do. Chasing memories of Marie Antoinette that I just saw the movie I'm going to VersaillesUel. The queue to enter the building, however, is infinite, and I, impatient, immediately returned to the station and take an express train to Rambouillet. Check that there is now afternoon and I stopped to eat at a park with a pond where there are two huge fish, catfish, I think, both have mustaches. Launch of the pieces in water sandwich and sling them at the speed of light. If you put your finger at your mouth I think the sieve. Fantastic opportunity to check on it but I will stop for a moment before, as I almost always do when I'm fucked up.
Rest your finger on the water and a feeling of irresponsibility that I do not mind. I reflect on how often just a small detail to make the best of this world into something ugly or dangerous. I always feel very close to this boundary.
I have with me the tent, but at Chartres, which is nearby, there should be a hostel, get there by bus which is almost evening.
I'm going for a walk before it gets dark at all. At the center of a tiny village, high in front of the cathedral, I have a slight dizziness. This church is very old, the structure looks like a spider web. I suffer of Stendhal Syndrome, which basically consists nell'inebetimento in front of works of art. The first time it happened during a school trip. I was stunned almost an hour before the Last Judgement, which had just been restored. I did not realize that others continued and the appeal output was not present. I looked at the painting as if it were a modern subliminal advertising on good and evil. The blue sky, scraping away the dirt of centuries, it was as bright as if the color was not yet dry. The fresco is part of the ceiling, forcing an unnatural position that makes your head spin because the blood does not circulate and flatten the neck. I do not know how long I was up his nose, his head slightly, forgetting everything, lost in the clouds puffy and piled in little bodies, looking for someone who looked like me. I was focused mainly on hell and purgatory, heaven was too high. An employee at the museum, informed by my companions, I found there and brought me back the bus.
front of the church of Chartres is happening to me again and am stunned to see the stained glass windows and transparent that the light from outside light as electricity. Resistance when I left I walked back slowly and the austere church will cease to have power over me. It happens to me always and that is why I travel. When the spell is finished I wander the streets near the old river. In a souvenir shop I buy a box of useless pieces of glass, precious stones seem crude and giants. The next stage
Orleans. The story of the maiden has always fascinated me, Joan burned at the stake as a witch. Arrival Sunday everything is closed, for more is ferragosto and there are tourists. I take a train that runs along the first stretch of the Loire and I stop at Blois, where he set up the tent in a beautiful camp. There is a castle built by Catherine de 'Medici, one of the most powerful women in European history, a fervent Catholic who knew the power of poisons, another "witch". Opposite the castle is the home of Hudinì magician, illusionist. While I'm there, undecided on which one to visit, the six windows of the house magician at the same time opened wide and six gigantic dragon heads popping out as if to pounce. Jump with fright. They are mechanical automata of the nineteenth century, a house-watch. Leaving
I notice the tails of dragons in the back of the house, which sguisciano glittering like snakes in the den while falling. At the end of the show windows are closed again by themselves with a dull thud, to the horror house. "Phenomenal" comment to myself.
In a tourist brochure I take the point of all the castles and choose one that seems to be Sleeping Beauty. Inside is a room called the five queens, one of them is Marguerite de Valois, Queen poet.
front of the canopy bed is a tapestry with wildlife. One in which fixed my attention in his hand a wooden flute and I like her.
In the afternoon I get closer to the coast of Brittany, the weather begins to change and the air is humid, the ocean is not far away.
Arrive in Carnac dead tired, I stop at the first open space I can find, near a beach just outside the village. Set up your tent and try to find I do not know how long a comfortable position before I could sleep.
The next morning I wake up more tired than before, I go out to stretch my legs and I notice a sign that the night before I had seen

WARNING AREA

Unhealthy

Seeking to calm thinking I slept only a lot of mud near the beach but does not look inviting.
At that moment I see a music coming from nearby. I know, but I can not remember when I've heard.
It 'an old man with a wooden flute sitting on a rock, there's no one around. As soon as I saw stops playing and says something in a strange language, maybe Breton dialect.
answer "Sorry, I do not understand, I do not understand, but the old man shakes his head and begins to play.
I do a pinch on the arm to make sure they wake up, get up again and the old look is gone. On the rock, however, is the flute.
I've never played an instrument in my life but this is a gift for me, I'm sure. E 'rosewood and must be ancient.
do not know how I know these things, but instinctively to his lips and began to play, and well, I must say. Shooting interrupts me, I know the name of the barely known and are totally out of tune. What the hell is going on?
He ran back to the tent and took it down fast, I move away from them. Finally I find a campsite and I settle on the first pitch free. I'll go take a shower, which relaxes me, but I start to get bored of being alone and more are also scared.
After dinner I suddenly go back to sleep and sleep for almost two days of yarn.
When I wake up I realize I'm laying on an inch of water. The sleeping bag is wet and wearing the suit that soup. The tent, obviously, it is not waterproof.
I try to avoid pneumonia and recovery in the bag of dry clothes, then close the curtain, with his hands all soft and wrinkled. I lost track of time but I think the days of the appointment with my friends is today.
I want to call them, but I can not find the phone that was in the side pocket of the tent.
Redo all the movements back to no avail, on the ground there is a lake of mud and have no hope of finding him. They are completely isolated and lost the phone numbers, what a tragedy! Gradually, however, the degradation becomes a feeling of freedom. I begin to realize that the answers to some of the dilemmas that haunt me are hidden in the things that are happening to me, only I do not understand yet. However, I decided to flee the camp, which now has become a pool, with tents and trailers that float on the water.
control on the road map for Huelgoat and take a tourist bus that goes there. The mood on the way is the swing between elation and terror.
The driver stops at the edge of the woods, I download and go. A wooden sign informs:

lives here Merlino

wizard of

transformations

I stand under a shelter and turn on the gas stove to make tea. There is a strange air around and kill time and give me courage, I play the flute.
At one point, from the depths of the forest, I hear a voice of a child.
around me in slow motion, the hair stands on end of arm I was convinced to be alone with me is not nobody down and even the shadow of those two.
I am meeting a slim figure and slightly lower than me.
It is not a child.
The hair is long and slender, almond-shaped eyes slightly lateral, sharp cheekbones, wide mouth and smiling.
I was enchanted to see us when a gust of wind ruffles his hair and discovers his ears, slightly pointed.
Mioddio an elf!
"Aylynn, I'll give it a bit '?" He says with ringing tone.
reached out to offer her the cup, "Scott" I warn.
"You came to the appointment," said the voice, ambiguous creature. She looks at me to make defiance in his eyes there is a sbrilluccichio amused.
How do you know of my appointment?
"I've been waiting for," he adds mysteriously.
Our fingers touch, and I suddenly remember the dream of cricket, then the faun in the bed of Margot. Both are similar to the face that is in front of me, and I must say that I like. Indeed, it is identical! He also has a flute similar to mine, holding in his left hand.
seems to be the mirror.
smile, "the meeting was you?" Wonder inconsistent.
"The giant is right," he says, "I do not think too much, listen to everyone, but decide alone and always be yourself", then I propose "sound?".
nod, happy to test my new-born talent.
Duet in the woods, as if I were a nymphet who lives there. After a while ', copy my fairy says, "Now give me the gift."
I have only a moment of embarrassment, then recovered from the bag took the colored stones to give them to him and Chartres.
"Beautiful," he says dreamily, "But now I must go, my friends are waiting for me and your waiting for you."
smiles away and "Do not forget me" she whispered, before disappearing into the woods.

Letteron Community Service

clean slate! It is not that stroke of a pen can do it all! This is no amateur! About program a sponge, it must have the qualities of "The Prince" by Machiavelli: he must know how to govern their luck. Choose a good time! Assessing all the circumstances!

Joseph Cotroneo is a professional of the stroke of a pen!

today's discussion, we would like to illustrate two of writing.

Third High School, self-management. The whole school to party, with professors on our hands all day. Joseph decided it was the right time to act. In the week we stayed in self-management class and we did all the questions of the quarter.

right choice! In fact at that time the Professor were quiet. Instead, once the self-management, they would come back more pissed off than before (they accused the students have made him miss a week of lessons and questions and now needed to recover).

Joseph Cotroneo learned to choose the right time for questions. And we were all winners, to follow our leader.

another shot of Sponge: exam. In class we were 28, and there we entered the classroom of all concerned: it was decided that eight people were to be sacrificed, and would incur the writings in another room.

None of the class wanted to be among the "eight" victims, and there were those who suggested that the process for 8 people at random.

Joseph Cotroneo intervened at this point: " between 8 I'll go! Astonishment on the face of all. "But I want to take with me who say I . "Giuseppe Cotroneo chose 7 people of which he was certain he could trust: 7 all have contributed to the task of mathematics. And that would fight head on, one for all and all for one." Genius Class tenevelo you, I want these 7 . "I am writing this post was one of the seven. It became the" Cotreneo's Seven .

And we 8 - considered doomed from everyone else - we were the only to play the math test with dignity.

But, as we said earlier this post, make a clean slate is not something to be naive.

Once we tried this "Mandarancio" (formal name, no corresponding neither a person nor a thing) who, to rebel against the situation of submission, dared to plot against Joseph Cotroneo. Classmates came to us and we suggested an overcoat against Joseph Cotroneo. Needless to say that the plan of Mandarancio failed.

And Mandarancio had to endure the further humiliation of expulsion from the group's music class. I still remember that day of testing. I was there to tune the guitar, while the Mandarancio warmed the fingertips. At that point he entered the rehearsal room which was the singer Joseph Cotroneo group. And so commanded Joseph Cotroneo " Mandarancio out !

I have a dream! A band without the Mandarancio! Giuseppe Cotroneo

Great!

Crock Pot Brisket Dry

The hermaphrodite

I met him in the summer. I noticed because I was like, made me think all'ermafrodito. The archetype of the mythological monster, divided in two because they are too powerful, has always fascinated me. He had become well the topic of my thesis, entitled "Masculine, feminine and neuter in the novel by Giuseppe Marini The Venetian baroque Calloandro faithful." The two main characters, and speculate Calloandro Leonilda, heroes are twofold, in continuous transformation, very bored by clichés corte.L 'plot is tangled, you lose the thread, boys dress up as girls and vice versa, in a confused role of escalation of trade. In the labyrinthine novel look at the two fall in love and forgiveness. After daring adventures they meet again by chance in a tournament, she is wearing armor that is not his, he, too: do not recognize. Confront, fight and almost s'ammazzano. The duel symbolizes the danger that springs from the union of the two halves of the prodigious be, well I almost convinced my rapporteur. The poor and unsuspecting lovers are parts of it all, Siamese twins separated at birth, forever in search of each other; must struggle against passion, speaking against the Freudian ES, and then against themselves, in order to finally reunite. I wanted to scream "fuck instead of fighting!" He was sure he had met me, perhaps to some party, almost certainly under the influence of a massive dose of something, probably on pills stamped with pink hearts. "Considering my position entropy, "I said seriously quoting the definition of the electron around the nucleus," is unlikely but not impossible. " He laughed in a way, and I thought "gay", then I hoped "maybe it's bi", the idea that it was a simple straight I touched at all. Instead of armor, had a belt full of rhinestones, metal plaque with a red heart and the words I'm sexy gold sequins, which I found horribly absolutely beautiful and I wanted to give me. It was broken down like a spoiled child, a dandy, though I soon found out that his culture was decidedly pop (meaning popular). She had a face that could happily be defined by blows, and never noticed the expression would be more adatta.Mi now that the friend who was with him staring at me all infastidita.Ci found ourselves dancing in a bar on the beach, and what was initially nothing more than a feeling turned out exactly the truth: The woman checked us in sight. He still did not get big scruples, I glanced sideways and tried to abide as closely as possible. When he could escape the vigilance would enjoy stroking her neck, I went ice cold fingers on my back sweaty and then returned quickly to focus on the glass in his mano.Io shuddered with pleasure, but considering the greater body mass of the other I tried to remove him by trimming away a series of attempts pizzicotti.Il not away at all in fact, seemed to amuse him. A few bites were as strong, but the gentleman did not change and remained in paraggi.Mi looked at his fingers ached and I realized that there was blood under her fingernails. I looked up on him and, for a moment, I saw the bright and shiny tip of the tongue that darted between his white teeth, like a serpente.Gli liked, strontium, and when I realized I had a slight turning of testa.Il morning following, looking faux-innocent, a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar, handed me the city, reduced to six or seven small pezzi.Passai the rest of the day was always accompanied by qualcuno.Lui fibrillation, but its intention was zero and turn your mastiff guard that he brought with him as a mark of shame was not something I wanted or even I would be able to fare.Venni know that she did not drink or smoke never too much, not to distraction and risk to miss it on the street, people had repeatedly beaten and ultimately had a good carattere.Io struggled to exert power over myself, let alone another umano.L be 'infamous Schiavetto stood firm all the time and docile under the umbrella, long rope tied to an imaginary no more than ten meters. As soon as she was distracted, though, I looked like a drug. He could not restrain himself, and the idea of \u200b\u200ba handover, a new perspective and unknown, that he would immediately released and chained to a yoke different, and therefore more desirable, he did not feel there had me in pelle.Con never really tried, maybe not even there he could, but had learned to meet women without necessarily having to get laid, and I bet he knew so well the ways to attract men. With both applied the same thin ricatto.Una night, shining as an anthropologist who studies human nature, procured a long, deep scratch on the right side of the chest was the only time that he was really duro.Il days after red sign was proudly displayed on his chest tanned and featherless, an exclamation point seemed shaky and crooked. Running his fingers over the wound to heal was, he said dreamily, "In contact with the sea burns a casino." His wife, nearby, looked at me with hatred. He took my anxiety by universal justice and, in some sort of comparison to the south of fire, I faced, "Why continue to be with?" I asked, perfectly aware that it was the most stupid question I could do. "What?" she snapped angrily, all expected except that my tone participatory, "Leave us alone," continued bypassing my question without trying to understand even for a second. "What?" I said I too have seen that, everything is fine, but until proven otherwise, it was he who, at a certain hour of the night was to look like a dog sbavettante, tried to explain, "Look who it is he who ..." "I know you but you have to stop," said Kapo the end without me, "You are just like him," he continued with the anger that mounted on the face of "evil and sick." He is protected behind his back, looked at me adoringly. "Look at you, rather," I blurted out trembling, "and I say it is the first time because I do not believe he would do it with anyone, for he is a game, do not you understand?" I insisted on no particular reason, only to be right, maybe, "so I do not want" I said contemptuously, "I tried to send him away, but always comes back" I said, knowing instantly that the company was beginning to already unhealthy fruit bacati.Due the tears sprang unexpectedly bloodshot eyes, seemed to speak of a poor victim in the clutches of an evil mantis sprawling, "To stop him you have to do so ..." wailed hysterically. "You want to give me some advice? Did you do so well ... "I said insolently trying to frighten them and cut out the possibility of leaving in place eretta.Mi seemed to have a bulldog ready to jump in front of the throat, I was afraid to turn his back, threw quick glances to the side see if someone comes along, "I'll take you," I said with the air of a grant them, as I walked away as walking backwards in front of a cardinale.Partì The following day he saw me go, whined like a little puppy abandoned.