Saturday, June 5, 2010

Sample Business Plan Of Chicken Wholesale

Because you asked: more thoughts arbitrary


1. I remember once, long ago, I fell asleep on the couch watching television. In the morning my mom came down the stairs and found me curled made in front of the TV on. "Why do not you go to bed?" He asked, and I opened my eyes and saw in the hallway, and for a second did not understand what I spoke, I was still in half-sleep, in that state where means sure what to is happening, and my brain could not understand much. He saw but did not know who he was until I joined, I saw it best and said "I'm coming" and to say I felt I did not know at all that person looked at me, and that person is also knew me.
I was scared.
How could I not know my mother? How could it be like a stranger at the time? From then on I was elsewhere, in a rather nebulous place where I am not part of anything and I can not recognize the faces of the people I've seen all my life. Sometimes even when I talk with her and I have so much confidence and I feel there woman who wants more in life, I remember there was a second where I thought it was a complete unknown, as if he had been abducted by aliens, I have erased the memory, and I have inserted in the house of an unknown family , which had never seen.
is horrible.
Whenever I have these nightmares where I'm Nicolas Cage in Family Guy, and awake in an alternate reality as an integral part of a family that I know and I have to pretend I'm "Dad", I know where the shelf of medicines, where they keep the towels and how to take coffee in the house.
is, I say, horrible.

2. When I was in Buenos Aires I went to MALBA to see an exhibition of Andy Warhol that it would close within weeks. The first time I went, as did my tour of Recoleta with Nicholas, the Chilean I have spoken before, had a long queue to get me to give up that day. I was after a Wednesday afternoon, and the line gave him around the block. I said there was no time and, selflessly, I trained.
that I know that Buenos Aires is the capital of fashion.
I realized I was in front row fashionistas longest in history, all subjects were in their twenties, were the fashionable hairstyles, shoes and clothing curious eccentrically combined. All spoke acentito with Buenos Aires and read books by Dostoyevsky while smoking his Lucky Strike. So
paradota while I was seeing and told locals hipsters in the head until hour and a half later, it was my turn to go.
I did, I saw the works, I laughed a little, went to the bathroom, came back, I read things, and I left. When I was crossing the Avenida Libertador, a girl stopped me. He asked if I could take a picture. I put a head in shame and confusion maximum, and when I would ask why, came forward and told me I was doing a fashion project for class and do not know how he had loved
my outfit and please, if you did not bother me, let him take my picture. So I did my most successful attempt at a pose (hand on her waist, eyes empty) and the girl I took the picture, then said goodbye with a kiss and went bouncing up giving the Malba. I
god at that time.
I can not tell what it was my outfit because that would ruin the excitement. Just know that I sang a song from the Bee Gees as he walked to catch the bus (which of course took it wrong and where I certainly humbled at all).

3. I also remember when I went to that village in Chile, Pumanque, the Catholic university. I made friends on all of a girl named Valerie, who had a tempestuous relationship with her boyfriend
. I liked it very sarcastic and not moving a finger to lift beams or load clothes, so we ipso facto crumbs. The next day I found myself in the camp drinking pisco with individuals mentioned and a Catholic girls rank sat with me, I do not remember his name, but it was extremely thin. He told me that the "leader" of the expedition was her boyfriend recently, but she was dead of shame because for two days could not take a bath. Then, from nowhere, she began to speak in English. I had to laugh and said nothing, but then I noticed that rich kids have the habit of getting to speak English for any reason. While she was with three others arrived they began to talk in the language of Shakespeare with an accent worse than Penelope Cruz and again I was in the twilight zone, a dimension where he did not know whether it was better to laugh or mourn.
Fortunately, Valeria came and rescued me. Milk was so bad that even a stranger.

4. I have wanted to abandon the extreme physical activity. When I was little my hyperactivity peleítas channeled my cousin John, we aventábamos pillows, we shook kick or ran on the grass to throw up food. I also liked to put a cassette of Ace of Base and start to dance like crazy in my living room. That feeling of doing something stupid up a sweat and then run for a glass of water to the kitchen and drink it in thirty seconds is something really strange. Still time to time I get to dance like stupid, until you really sweat, but not the same: I get to hit someone friendly, kick objects and jumping up on the street as if I had taken an ecstasy tablet. I recently saw
Little Ashes for the sole reason for leaving Rob Pattinson, who despite being the most handsome man the world is the worst actor in the world, and there is a scene where he makes-that Salvador Dali, for incomprehensible reasons, is set to hit some branches on the beach with the dude that makes Federico García Lorca. Both are very deranged, pushing and falling on the floor and then rising and throwing things and bumping into the waves. I liked both those stocks that do not know how to define ... Dumb "perhaps? "Walk of hyperactive aimlessly? "Jotear? Whatever.
I have wanted to enter a house and destroy everything. I know better than to yell at people and stuff.

5. Although it was about eight days ago when I went to the fair of wine and cheese Tequisquiapan. No I know why it went so fast the bottles of sparkling wine, or the joke that the "Chilean wine ... ... ...
Merlot Maipo " (the bad inside jokes is that when you wants to outsource and not work the same), but the fact is that I woke up with second-degree burns, bruises on the legs and a vague feeling of having been lying on the grass while listening to some guys sing some songs from a hate group.

6. I get lost in those eyes:



Listening: Yeasayer: ONE



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