video made in exclusively to celebrate the arrival of 2010 ... Do not miss it because it has no waste.
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eCards today!
ENTRANCE HAPPY 2010!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Hamilton Beach Microwavehb-p90d23al-dj
2010!
video made in exclusively to celebrate the arrival of 2010 ... Do not miss it because it has no waste.
ENTRANCE HAPPY 2010!
video made in exclusively to celebrate the arrival of 2010 ... Do not miss it because it has no waste.
ENTRANCE HAPPY 2010!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tobie Percival Images
Vertex wants to wish you a Merry Christmas and we've made this video with some of "Children of the Vortex", accompanied by some carols Asturian "The Cirigüeña" and Fernando Cuesta ... Enjoy.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
How Fast Is A 1996 Arctic Cat Ext Snowmobile
A LENNON HAPPY HOLIDAYS. THIRTY YEARS
CLICK ON THE PLAY :
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"It was early, I lost control when the phone woke me up and someone cried when trying to say: You know what was last night in New York ?, a half mad dog fan, shit Oswald has shot to John . "
So reads the beginning of a song composed by the group Coz.
John Winston Lennon , born in Liverpool on October 9, 1940. murdered in New York the morning of December 8, 1980 by Mark David Chapman . founder of the band The Beatles on musical and social importance of which has been written and debated until l satiety and in most cases the conclusion is the same for anyone: there is an appearance before The Beatles and after. But music is not what I want to briefly speak, but John .
say that, broadly strokes, life ends up as one chooses.
John Lennon . Life will always be eternal when you have a song and the songs will always be eternal while a life than singing. Some people are like torches touring constantly sad these boulevards where breastfeeding lonely sadness;
And there are songs like
There are people who always live under the lamplight nesting love doing of his;
And there are songs like
Some people spend their lives roaring hatred or rebellion attempting to change in the other's ideas;
And there are songs like
Some people spend their lives unlacing feet and dancing in any puddle, as the blacks happy;
And there are songs like
There are people rooted in their s Angre in their land in its people and its ancient customs;
And there are songs like
There are people who planted roots in the rain when they dream of peace because they are sweet like the nipple of a nursing mother;
And there are songs and
There are all sorts of people and each one is a song Lennon put his name to one and his name remains attached to that song that sounds sometimes lost in an undefined time between spring and summer. Everybody recognizes it because the whole world when listening, recognizing himself in the park in all of us in the hearts, where we still have child swinging to the beat of the song outside all the things that happen to in this era, will not tell the child to stop, right? ... they do not fly so high, do not try to follow the cloud that continues its way through the deep blue sky; sure that child within us and we will look at us a bit puzzled smile, humming will and his eyes guess the hope impossible but stubborn of finding a Lennon on this song: IMAGINE
( Xándalu )
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Do Dogs Get Cold Sores On Lip
more vertices: NOW ALSO ON SATURDAY
As you know, last November 7 Vertex began a new phase in which, among other innovations that will tell you ... begins to open also on Saturday.
The opening hours will be like on Sundays, from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon and from seven pm till closing.
For there will be all of us the "Family of Vertex" and anyone who wants to join ... welcome.
So, you know, now, on Saturday we also have "VERTICE" (no need to go dress) ...
"I do not miss it !!!... I be so cute?"
Saturday, November 7, 2009
What Ever Happen To Real Journalism
ESFERODINAMIA, Anabella Lozano
The Esferodinamia is a bodywork technique that trains the perception and the possibilities of movement of the body using the ball as a facilitator.
DAILY ALARM - Your positive periodic
ARGENTINE TANGO Tango Blog
Claudia Bedacarratz
Friday, October 23, 2009
Red Mucurs Discharge When Period Is Due
MY NEIGHBORHOOD TAVERN: The vertex (for Xándalu)
Soft music comes through the door of the tavern and seems to disperse scent signals to party early at night cravings. Tonight I sense a barefoot feet when I return to this pub in my neighborhood again, and again I take the table that I like. It is the only unoccupied. I watch the clock and see that break and ten at night and hope that at eleven or twelve, I open your eyes, without nostalgia. Two blonde women
occupying a table in front of me, remind me a little that other blond hair. If not except that in the hair color patches of life was remembered and snails would say the same, but no. The conversation of my two neighbors comes to my table wearing a fala ill will (likely) geometric, ancestral, spread the proximity of my country through my mind and spread, too, the memory of the blood of my relatives. I did not notice, as always, if someone or myself, listening attentively to the conversation of my neighbors, but I remember they were talking quietly and I held my face with the intention of catching a later story to tell you guys, but no, not tonight, because I care more that I longed for the arrival of eleven, or twelve.
Never mind the people around when it comes time one would expect, it seems that one is alone in this place and only try to hoard words for that moment of midnight, to keep everything as a precious secret. Nobody like me, at twelve, you want a lots of music that sounds in the tavern undress me again youth, adolescence. Soft music comes and spreads its aroma a sign, I said at first, now, after a couple of hours I noticed signs that something as tangible as a face that comes close is what makes me fit, more if possible, to keep my back seat, because that, more affluent, I can not escape her laugh and I will have no hurry to also accommodate my hair after taking off my beret ... or see a white cat by the front wall of the school in a notebook blur poems, some faults.
entered and in all the world was certain that the language was going to grow, and after the language course, the rebuilding of a bridge that will be done with laughter. Came as a promise to breathe into a white coat, weaned, for any mother. Came as a light parade with his scarf set and renewed the shiver of a kiss, or the feel of a dream. If I close it, Xana, his eyes at that moment, would be kept with your target all the grooves that wind their hands warm smiles crave sugar. But not, not close their eyes to rotate their arms to embrace that position, and hopes and expects a certain feminine grace walk by the piece of glass a spark caught the foam of a laugh at any beach. Seemed to be counting table to table, with these comings and goings of short steps, that ambition is always carried at half mast and love, or kindness, a smile that fits the number one heart and crucifying of light, moon. Yes, I think I'll get up and leave written napkins on the table. Acunaré his arms trembling words in my mind and let her hand away from my mouth, so it calms my voice to swallow some find another spring or what is the same ... the peace of his kiss.
My mother told me one day when air opens his veins the subtle aromas tend to get light spring rain at night and ride out all Xanas, and that is why, to return the next morning all the birds.
between morning and night, morning and night and I would advise Ladies and Gentlemen, that you enjoy your time and if you ever go near my neighborhood tavern feel free to enter and to know who runs what, someone who is simply a piece of heart with eyes, ah, and music.
Xándalu
Soft music comes through the door of the tavern and seems to disperse scent signals to party early at night cravings. Tonight I sense a barefoot feet when I return to this pub in my neighborhood again, and again I take the table that I like. It is the only unoccupied. I watch the clock and see that break and ten at night and hope that at eleven or twelve, I open your eyes, without nostalgia. Two blonde women
occupying a table in front of me, remind me a little that other blond hair. If not except that in the hair color patches of life was remembered and snails would say the same, but no. The conversation of my two neighbors comes to my table wearing a fala ill will (likely) geometric, ancestral, spread the proximity of my country through my mind and spread, too, the memory of the blood of my relatives. I did not notice, as always, if someone or myself, listening attentively to the conversation of my neighbors, but I remember they were talking quietly and I held my face with the intention of catching a later story to tell you guys, but no, not tonight, because I care more that I longed for the arrival of eleven, or twelve.
Never mind the people around when it comes time one would expect, it seems that one is alone in this place and only try to hoard words for that moment of midnight, to keep everything as a precious secret. Nobody like me, at twelve, you want a lots of music that sounds in the tavern undress me again youth, adolescence. Soft music comes and spreads its aroma a sign, I said at first, now, after a couple of hours I noticed signs that something as tangible as a face that comes close is what makes me fit, more if possible, to keep my back seat, because that, more affluent, I can not escape her laugh and I will have no hurry to also accommodate my hair after taking off my beret ... or see a white cat by the front wall of the school in a notebook blur poems, some faults.
entered and in all the world was certain that the language was going to grow, and after the language course, the rebuilding of a bridge that will be done with laughter. Came as a promise to breathe into a white coat, weaned, for any mother. Came as a light parade with his scarf set and renewed the shiver of a kiss, or the feel of a dream. If I close it, Xana, his eyes at that moment, would be kept with your target all the grooves that wind their hands warm smiles crave sugar. But not, not close their eyes to rotate their arms to embrace that position, and hopes and expects a certain feminine grace walk by the piece of glass a spark caught the foam of a laugh at any beach. Seemed to be counting table to table, with these comings and goings of short steps, that ambition is always carried at half mast and love, or kindness, a smile that fits the number one heart and crucifying of light, moon. Yes, I think I'll get up and leave written napkins on the table. Acunaré his arms trembling words in my mind and let her hand away from my mouth, so it calms my voice to swallow some find another spring or what is the same ... the peace of his kiss.
My mother told me one day when air opens his veins the subtle aromas tend to get light spring rain at night and ride out all Xanas, and that is why, to return the next morning all the birds.
between morning and night, morning and night and I would advise Ladies and Gentlemen, that you enjoy your time and if you ever go near my neighborhood tavern feel free to enter and to know who runs what, someone who is simply a piece of heart with eyes, ah, and music.
Xándalu
Thursday, October 15, 2009
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