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Reo Long live! Euthanasia

Scientists confirm this: we will live up to 110 years.
A few hours after the news, shares of Tena Lady had already increased by 27%, 45% of those of Viagra. Producers of dentures cheer. In Parliament you start talking about raising the retirement age, what voices will say indiscreet to eighty. In Bologna, a few young people have left pull out your hair in public at the thought of another forty years of Berlusconi.

The news, in short, has not gone unnoticed. For me, I just get to have white hair without going crazy. If I have to lean on a cane to walk, never mind: Dr. House has made it fashionable. The rack is not that bad, especially for someone who easily forget to brush your teeth. Before going to sleep the stick in a glass of water and Hurry, and you can feel comfortable throughout the night.
What worries me, however, is Berlusconi. In 2042 will have thick hair in a ponytail and facial skin smoother than ever .* The Knights will likely candidate for Galactic Emperor and his smiling face OGN night, introduced by a Editorial Emilio Fede, will be screened in their sleep in all living things ...
They want us to live to 110 years. I hope you do not mind, gentlemen scientists, if I stop first.


* Eminent historians of literature will show that Berlusconi appeared in sleep to Scott Fitzgerald and the inspiration for the character of Benjamin Button.

Do I Have A Broken Blood Vessel In Mouth

a blog? Like hell! Praise

M the wonder of resistance Of this blog. E 'for more than three months since the public something and still have the same six players before. But you do, you are, re-read the same post in a continuous loop? Is there any step that does not understand or is there went into stand-by the optic nerve?

However, after I had almost decided for euthanasia inparallel (it is very fashionable in recent times), I consulted the most eminent personalities of the literary world and on their advice and after careful reflection, I chose to resist and keep alive my creation. The emotional force of that decision was that without even realizing it I got up shooting with clenched fists, tight lips, eyebrows, fingernails dirty and aching and I shouted 'No! Inparallel not die! At the cost of writing at night, at the cost of publishing a post every three months will not give my faithful readers! Never! '* So
here I am, if only to reassure you six-nothing: you can continue to fuck up inparallel . I take this opportunity to postpone all other next month, when hopefully I will have more time to devote to my highly intellectual activities of bloggers.





* The most observant will wonder how I managed myself to cry with her lips tightened. As in other cases, I take refuge behind the abuse and now lisa poetic license, a friend of the illiterate, even more than poets.