Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Claiming Boat Sales Tax

Probably we are cool flowers!

"Well, Costa Rica," says Willi, a skinny cook with wire glasses and a hook nose, "those were the days. You want to have me on our farm ... but what about my 800 toads support? I'm not getting there. Here already. No, I have to sit out this. In two months I got treatment, then I hope it will do with the pension. They send a whole around the world. The rest is not. "He led his nicotine-stained fingers the cigarette to his mouth. The three hundred € room was small. On the art parquet floor were his paintings - unframed, one above the other. They were built in the snow. William did not paint for a long time. Since the story of his cross he did not cook anymore. He sat all day in his room and talked with people who visited him. That was what he did: smoke, sitting, drinking and talking. drunk on his bed until he tipped to which the small table was pushed to the sat his illustrious guests. Including me. I turned off then most of the TV and shut the door. The only one in this boarding house on the lake, he never locked his room. In his day was always the open door. They came and went. If you do not approve of his Tetra Pack Wine liked, they brought themselves with wine in bottles. Or Cracking. When weather permitted, we sat at the tiny balcony with its hemp and tomato plants, as well as the many small pot of freshly sprouting herbs. He worked as a cook these things like fresh. As he ran out a week before the payday the money, he urged me to go into the sponges. Jo had a car. He himself knew the best men's mushroom reasons. I agreed. The Lord of mushroom base proved a flop. "There's probably up there chanterelle," said Jo, pointing to a steep Kuhwiese. We were working high on a hillside, which had pounded the cows. Water stood in the holes, stemming from their hooves. One of Willis cowboy boots got stuck in a muddy hole. When he tried to pull him out, he fell full length in the mud. It started to rain. We gave up and sat down under the roof of a barn that was gray and leave on a slope.
William won the tetra pack wine from the bag and drank. For a mushroom-seeker, he looked unusually dirty. The first sip gave him back his good humor.
"Up there, there may really" Chanterelle, said Jo.
"Oh, forget it. Fuck the boletus, shit "to the chanterelle, said Willi.
Why all at once? "Wondered Jo. "Yes, you were" the driving force that I added.
"I will give you something," betrayed, "said Will, grinning the grin of a man who is content with his life because he has nothing left to lose:" I hurt the damn cross, I look like a mud wrestling and probably am I anyway flowers cool. "
" Or we all, "Jo remarked dryly, and began a joint to turn.

Fin

Monday, August 2, 2010

The Serendipity Bible

A to Z ?

A to Z ?

No, the new BOM starts yet - sorry!
But I would ever give a hint on what you can set yourself.

What the title says? Well, let Your fantasy play .... I
tinkering a bit and then it'll go in January!
Be curious.

No, the new BOM does not start - sorry!
But I want to give a hint.

What the title says? Well, let your imagination play ....
I still tinkering a little bit and then it'll go in January!
Stay tuned.

Happy stitching

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Buy Waterpik Bangalore India

Dr. Filth and the light

So it would not have to end, said anyone who had been taken as the madman in the Closed. No one, however, assumed that Filth seemed to have itself accepted in the last days of his mature existence: the nature of light near, and to be God himself. A 44 years God, by excessive consumption of hashish grown gray hair night, armed with the insignia of the intellectuals: horn-rimmed glasses and pipe. Alfred Filth early grazing on the lush pastures of his profession, psychology, out-it was his sagacity. Before the State of the frenzied father assumed he had created a bizarre pyramid theory that no one had found interesting or instructive to write a book about elves, which nobody read, and a shop keeper on the subject of near death. Piqued, he had, as he said firmly, turned to the theme of all themes: the nature of light. Who could have guessed that he and this step the downfall of his bourgeois existence initiated, come to the funny farm, and the damage would still have the mockery? Here, Filth weighed in home ownership! Advised in his career wrecks families, which remained better in the Hades of the non-existence would be creamed off and by his advice poured out drop to the red-hot stones, family madness! But not to his profession, which he dominated for greyhound fashion, and probably needs a little contempt, it's here, it's about love light, its nature and its victims. The first victim was not he but the three decades of friendship with Franz, the web designer. And so it was spent. I stood with Franz, chattering and bechernd, one of the Tables of the FAD, a Kufsteiner scene restaurant, which has now made the hatches. As it now in detail happened, I do not know, Franz told me one day in any case of a misunderstanding between him and Alfred Filth.
"So once again," I said.
"No. This time it's something substantial. "
" So marriage is a real crash. "
Yes. And more. He actually speaks from the right to exist. "
" Oho. Your social, artistic, or intellectual? "
" All three. Enjoy her. Alfred researching lately, so the nature of light. "
" Oha. "
Yes. And a few weeks ago he put me he would explain on the way to this fact. "
" Ah-so as the secret of the pyramids uncovered, then? Or the actual existence of fairies? "
Yes. I also say: Stick to your last, and this can be anything. But his basic idea was fascinating, and the next day I came here in the FAD randomly into a physics student from Heidelberg interview. I told it of Alfred's bold idea, and thought his doctoral supervisor at Heidelberg, had just had the same idea even before three years, "
" Well, then.! The last day in the history of physics has finally dawned " I said solemnly, and raised my glass.
"Yes, yes. Enjoy her. What I could not know. The student has told them his doctor father, and Alfred has sent a few days in armor mail, because of plagiarism and so on. And now write me a text message to the idiot, I would have blurted out his fantastic idea for the nature of light, to a student in Heidelberg. Prompt would have turned in there term physicist, and claimed the idea for themselves. "
" That's nonsense. "
" Alfred says no. He had had the idea earlier. The student had stolen her father and the doctor put his now than back. And the blame for the mess I was wearing. The two fools might have to look put together and what is it about their ideas do not. Instead pflaumt this Heidelberger Alfred and Alfred me. "
" What is his idea or do you among lie now a silent bid? "
" Are you crazy? I let me not his mouth ban by the fool. I have the most eh . forget I do not even remember what I told the students have the core idea is the. because light travels at light speed goes, no time light is timeless, so there was only one photon "
" One "
'.... Yes. "
" A single photon silly? "
" Yes. "Franz looked unhappy.
"Well, God bless, Mrs. compote."
»Alfred talk about his theory of light the way, like God. And God sulking since I did the faux pas no one is. "
Aha. God. So what must he be when he realized the true nature of light. For that he would continue with its 44 as Einstein 70th Shall I quote him, "
" When it absolutely has to be "
" Logically, "said Einstein:. For 50 years now I ponder about what is a photon, and it still does not know. Today, everyone believes Lump, he knew - but he does not know "
Franz laughed..
"He said that? Incidentally. Do not you think that I something similar to see him? "
" You? Einstein? Yes, in some way. The fleshy nose fits the Zauselfrisur ... Einstein was snoring by the way. "
" I, too, "laughed French
" I know. "
" Where? Wurscht "
." And he suffered from terrible sweaty feet. "
" I do not. "
" Are you sure? "
" Yes. "
" On Toothbrush Einstein renounced as well. "
" What a pig. Oh - when we speak of genius. Here he comes, the only person on earth who has recognized the nature of light. To "
Alfred stabbed us noticing, but ignoring, directly on the bar. There ordered He is something, gesturing with his pipe, while the horn-rimmed glasses pushed frantically deal. He spoke very closely with the Hans Kellner, although I was sure that nothing of light understood nor wanted to know. Somewhat later came
Filth's wife, Susie, and they turned to us.
I'm coming as a mediator, Franz Alfred wants you to make him a website. Nothing great. Really just a logo. A frame. This nonsense stop. "
" Certainly. But, cash only. And Jehovah would have to descend from his throne, and talk to myself. "
" Ha, now I know what to me has always berebere Alfred. At a Jehovah's Witness, "I said.
Yes, "countered Frank, quick-witted." Only he is Jehovah and the witness in a "
We laughed.
Susi, who was not funny, went to Alfred, and then fell out after weeks of school friends were mutual non-compliance at a table.
"So, Frank, I have the" so presented, the Filth began without hesitation. One felt he wanted to remain objective.
Alfred laid the blade of a computer printout on the table.
"What's that?" Asked Franz
The opening of my treatise on the nature of light. "
" And why are the other lines all blackened? "
" Well, so that no unauthorized persons will read them, Franz, " said Alfred, laughing bleating.
His wife Susie smiled.
"And what should I do?" Asked Franz
Alfred told him.
"" 50 €, said Franz - he was factual.
Alfred took his gazelle leather wallet in the back pocket of his Levis, pulled a fifty, where you saw that he was pulled fresh out, and handed it to the French let him disappear into the inside pocket of his jacket.
"So where do you want the logo? How should it look like in about? "
" I send you the page to your computer. "
" With the blackened lines? "
" Yes, of course, Frank, what do you think? If you there is reading, you betray me so everything again. "bleated Alfred and his wife threw a conspiratorial glance.
"How come you can fuck these lines will not go away at all?" Asked Franz irritated.
"Well, you shall see thee, where the text is, Franz," Alfred said from above. He bleated again.
"There is a simple framework would have sufficed. This text is blackened ridiculous. And why should I not read it? "
" I know that you'd like, what? Yes, "
." Because you do not write the Bible again. It is a text. It is not ... but fuck it, Alfred! So you always were! At school already! Yes, Susie, listen quietly! You always had some Kabbalistic run shit, and if I asked you what it is, you're just as crappy, arrogant bitching as now. Lie and you do too, "Filth
Alfred and his wife Susie looked dismayed. Franz continued:
Yes. Lies. When your parents lecture you said last, when they find knives at their school children, must not collapse world, you had always taken a knife with you as a student. You've never had this knife, let a pulled when it was risky. Spit you, Alfred! Spat, "
" Yes, yes, but this is now could not care less. So I would like the logo there. It is intended to represent a stylized photon. "
" A stylized Photon. Hans, yet, "said eighth, French
The waiter is registered.
"And what you have done your stylized photon like?" Asked Franz
Alfred pulled out his golden pen, and brought his idea with a few awkward strokes on paper, as I exchanged a few words with Susie.
But soon we were back at the two brawlers.
"No, no, no. It is totally unnecessary, "said Alfred," would you read the text, the urge to return through to Heidelberg. Besides, you would not understand him anyway. "
" Shit, my graphics will just be better if I know what's about, "bellowed Franz His nerves were bare.
"Well," for light, "said Alfred, laughing bleating in the direction of his wife. Since he already had
Franz poured the wine into his face. The scandal
friends, the final impiety had happened.
Alfred's head snapped back and in my mind's eye I saw the doctor and the web designers are rolling already on the ground - so to speak in a friendly embrace. But Alfred controlled himself. Brushing his glasses, he limited himself to making his displeasure in words air.
"Well, something primitive! Such a thing happened to me before. Does so only an alcoholic. Does so only an alcoholic! You are at the end, Franz! Sacked, an artistic dead body! And a human wreck one too! And the 50 € you can forget "
" Ha, ha -. Which you have already given me, "said a delighted French
" What? Damn. Come on, Susie, we are going. And the primitive, there was the longest time, my friend. "
" Yes, go, go, go! "Cried Franz after the two got and now his eighth of Hans. He had observed the scene, amused and asked: "Should I still get the same one"
"No. I drink, "said Franz, and added quietly:". But such a pace that you are allowed to bring me but now a new "
He threw it down. That was the incident in the FAD. Some months later Filth, filth talking to the input mentioned in the phone, terrified and insulted his imbecile, illiterate clients, and the whole thing became known. An illiterate mother filed suit against the doctor because of an insult (I think he called her on the phone a violent, illiterate Sau). Before the court began to speak of Filth rosy lights. And the only saving Photon. The judge called him to order, but Filth was unstoppable. Roh prevented from further talking Filth tried to use his lighter to set a curtain on fire, threw his pipe brought to the called police, was on the job brought raced there on and on, insulted the officers, sang, whistled, and last but not least was known to no other advice than to put him in the Closed. There he sits today, draws, makes poetry (mainly the nature of light) and is visited occasionally by his divorced wife, with whom I am the way, soon thereafter had an affair. The went with me in the trap, the wide variety of lights. Sexually I mean. And I made her laugh. By example, I once imitated child's voice and said, "For fifty years now I ponder about what is a photon, and it still does not know. Today, everyone believes Lump, he knew - but he does not know "
.
end

Saturday, July 10, 2010

How To Write Reference Letters

Fitlauf 75 '

the mid-70's flowed through Austria, the first state-prescribed fitness craze. TV and radio sounded, the newspapers wrote about the importance of sport and exercise. Even on the small, walled town of my childhood, Gmünd in the Lieser, clicked this wave. So it was that mother to us three brothers, Fred 12, Eddy 6 and 8 am, one Sunday out of the bed disturbed by the directive, would start today in the town of Fitlauf. And we would participate.
"Who we are?" Asked Fred sleepy.
"You and Karli. Eddy is probably too small. So pure in your workout clothes. "
" I'm "Not too small, Eddy protested, as we headed for the Lisa-closed bridge in the city. be
"We'll see," said Mother. "Why is there a flag?" Said Eddy, as we were passing on Statdschloss. "Today is" National Day, said mother and sucked on her cigarette.
"Where's Papa?" Asked Fred. "At the brunch," said mother. Stepfather was then, unfortunately, so you just have to call, though industrious, a chain-smoking alcoholic. He had no mother but getting them to that they also depended on the bottle, but he had moved them to smoke. In her youth, her passion was skiing and Toni Sailer was their hero. Now they moved only in the context of its unsatisfactory housewife existence. Our brothers but they held on to the sport. A crowd of people, some with starting numbers was slung together at the top gate. Tea was served, a man with a megaphone was addressed. The crowd, there were also children and elderly among them, seemed excited. Immediately jumped on that excitement for me. I braced internally. So far as I knew it would run a race and I had to give everything. "There are numbers from the start, we are" late, "said Mother. She paid the entry fee. I want also, "whined Eddy. "The boy also" asked the man doubtfully, while us when creating the Numbers was helpful. Mother shook her head. "But a starting number. I will, "a starting point, insisted Eddy. He got one. Meanwhile we had gone to the start. "Hurry up, like we go," said mother. I pushed my way between people, when I realized that I do not even know where the trip went! I wanted to go back. But the crowd was too dense. "I do not know where we go," I cried seized by panic. An older man said with a smile: "Just follow your nose. No, just walk to the people. Half way there is a folder. The stamp your card. "I'm not a card," I cried in horror. Somehow, Fred come near me. "No card? Shit for you. Your starting number was sitting wrong way. "I returned, the moment a shot tore the air. The crowd began to run with ... and I ran! I was shoved and pushed. "Hey, little place." "Look, that I do not crush, Runt." Aside. "I ran with the pack through the gate tower in the city, and the Malta bridge. I was shocked and electrified at the same time. This was not a simple operation. It was a struggle for survival. I had to pass him at all costs. The runners jostling me stirred up. Where would I show it! I would show it to everyone. I would deliver a bravura performance, as in the elementary school that I went through as a leader.
But this was more concrete. Troublesome. Horrible. I was half in a state of frenzy. I had boys, covered from head to toe, the agonistic instinct. The fermentation of the start and the wild charge ahead of the pack had turned me into a small fighting machine. Immediately after the bridge, the Malta-trampling moved to right field, lower in the suburbs. From there we went on the road and, at the New home over, the path along the banks of Malta, who wanted to take in the next few minutes, no end, and on which the box was longer and longer. My lungs began to sting, my temples pounding. Fred I do not see. He was way ahead of me. I passed by a serenade. The man behind it had seemed important.
"Hey, kid. You have to stamp, "he shouted after me now. ! »Otherwise your path is invalid"
I turned and said out of breath and stammered: "I ... h. .. h. .. have a map ..."
"Really? Well we have now, "he said, particularly the stamp pressed deep into the ink pad, took my head and pressed me the sign on the forehead. »Sun And running now. "So I did. The endless path along the banks came to an end, once again had to cross the road and then we went up the densely wooded castle Bichl, Gmündner the Way of the Cross River. First I passed the chapel. The Savior was there laid in the grave. He had behind him. Unlike me. My lungs were burning, my heart was racing. And no goal, no redemption in sight. To make matters worse, I had just past the Crucified One, I found myself still alone. "Well, little man is, you run out of steam? Take heart, there is no more "far-rang, a voice. I was shocked deeply. The Lord spoke to me! No, it was a gentleman of me, thanks to better power division, with springy steps obsolete. And as I pulled away! Panting and sweating, I passed a grievance station after another. I rolled on the crucifixion as it were from behind. While the Saviour was always healthier here He hung on the cross yet, there he carried the cross, where he carried it no longer, but this pretty crown of thorns, I felt progressively worse. Inexperience in Fitläufen I get carried away and I had started too fast. But it happened also a psychological factor. I found myself alone. Nowhere could have been competitors in sight, where I rub myself. No one saw my performance. Why struggle away at all? The man with the crown of thorns and his tormentors were not likely to motivate me. I needed a vivid clue. Something, so I knew ... and the Lord answered me. I caught a runner ahead. He was of immense wealth and the body can not be overlooked. I felt that he was slower than me. I wanted to approach him to suck me. I increased the pace and the old castle, before the long staircase that leads down to the city, I was on him. Everything about him was glowing in deep red: the fat neck, wrists, ears. The man was at the end. We reached the stairs. I wanted to slip past. The mass man instinctively looked to the side, I saw flashing beads of sweat in a gray mustache, and cut off my path! He would not leave! I was almost stumbled at that. "Hey, hey!" I cried. A grunt was the answer. Now it was time to be smart. I indicated next to a passing maneuver, the man also waved to the left and flight, I was right over. "Hey, little fellow," groaned the man does not seem a dangerous man to have behind me, my boy's legs once a forte. The end of the stage had been reached. Now it was off to the right. Through the dark pit of the upper city gate I saw the shape of a horseshoe, surrounded by people target range. The last meters. The audience seemed to be waiting for me to wonder who would spit out the dim Tor now. Something was moving in me like a flash and I increased my pace again. I sprinted as if the devil behind me. I was out of the gate and by the purpose ... received from an immoderate laughter. The hands on his knees, gasping, looking I have to. The laughter was meant for me. There was no doubt. Red faces, fingers pointed at me, sneering mouths gaping. Where's mother? Where were Fred and Eddy? There they stood. Fred pointed at me and laughed very loudly. Mother grinned - but embarrassed. She made some steps toward me and said, "You lose your pants yes" Then she laughed too!. It was bewitched. "Wait," she says, a finger moistened with saliva. At the same time she took a corner of her blouse. The finger was aimed at my forehead. I recoiled in disgust. "You would not have it but the stamp," she said. The stamp, shot me! I was a marked man. I bore the mark of Cain that accursed Fitlaufes on the forehead! See my baggy clothes and, as I now realized, twisted and unrecognizable starting number. I was the laugh of the day! The thing I would be terribly embarrassing when an outcry went through the crowd. I turned around. The fat had appeared in goal. He did not go, he staggered like a wounded elephant. The goal within reach, he went to his knees and fell down the side. Helping surrounded him. Even my mother, Eddy and Fred ran to the scene. I stayed where I was, but with piercing lungs, but glad that the crowd has moved the focus rested.
Fred came back: "Only a brief unconsciousness, he said, almost disappointed. The award ceremony was the second, Argentina Damper. The trophies were all to others. Fred got certificate and badge. I got certificate and plaque, and even Eddy got a plaque, although he had not run there. I did not understand the world anymore. Mother stayed in the city, to drink coffee with a friend. We got a pack of three per sport rubber as a reward, even Eddy ... and he was not run there! We should quickly go home and bathe us, they said. On the bridge Malta Fred had his aufgefuttert Drops already. "Show time," he said, and grabbed my pack. Before I could protest, he reached into it with the full hand and the sports rubber stuffed in his mouth like hay! Spiteful grin he gave me back the package. It was empty.

Fin

Monday, July 5, 2010

Clear Bubble Inside Bottom Lip

Kids of Seasons Part 7 Tine and Niko


Tine and Niko
close the circle around the sun.
Tine and Niko close the circle around the sun.

The top of the pad is ready.
Our pillow is closed with a zipper across the entire width at the bottom cushion.
A great tutorial - only available in English - (! Changed my help but the pictures) you will find here.
is possible but also a pillow in the back of the cushion.
How this can be found on the web for example here or here.
I would also put in a flap closure in the middle or two "distributed" points of a button or Velcro. Das Kissen ist breit und der Hotelverschluss kann dann doch etwas "aufsperren", was manchen stören könnte.

The top of the cushion is now complete.
Our pillow is closed with a zipper across the buttom of the cushion.
You´ll find a very good tutorial here.
It is possible to close the pillow otherweise.
You can find some tutorials in the web. A closure with buttons for example here .
A lot of ideas for pillows and closures you´ll find here.

Viel Spaß beim Nähen!
Happy sewing!



PS: This year it was the BOM. I am a creative break. In my head, so many ideas that I have to put first.
In January 2011, we see us if you like, again.
This was the BOM of the year 2010.
I need a creative break. In my head are so many ideas I have to realize. In January 2011, we see us again, if you like.

Monday, May 31, 2010

What Episode Does Bulma Says She Loves Vegeta?

Kids of Seasons Part 6 Helen and Hendrik

Helen and Hendrik


The last two children in the next month, includes the circle.
With the last two children in the next month the circle come full.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Kid Touching My Boobs

Kids of Seasons Part 5 Caren und Mika

Caren and Mika

Happy quilting

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Poems To Make My Bf Horny

literary criticism

If I have learned early in my career writing one, then that the brains of people with regard to the things you do, react, how the dice. You polarisierst forever. Add criticize your friends, your pictures, your life, enemies appreciate them, sometimes the reverse is true and other times you'll ever be ignored. About 25 I started to write short stories because I wanted to do some day this hobby into my profession. I did not want to put my life in things like loser jobs, or money problems. I was often unemployed, which is both bad for the soul, on the other hand, well, if you write, because time is the order and on. Letter was kannz.B over the years as breathing for me, a man with writing urge. be drunk, not permanent. He just needs clarity. He needs words. I could then drink in my spare time so many have-not-not always, jogging, or fuck. Not that I would not have fucked. I fucked a lot. But if you do not run away toads an earlier or later, the women. So I
wrote and delivered my letter without it big to send to publishers, which vary Around the world, say, human brains. Al, who told me once that he was glad to understand nothing about art, pulled me out one day when I just on the couch sleeping off my noise, with a call sleep. I took off a hangover. It was three clock in the afternoon. "Be not angry with me Karl, but what you've written together, is shit."
I stared briefly against the dark wood ceiling in my deepest valley located attic. I had my bearings first. The living room looked as if a horde of chimpanzees lived in it.
I croaked: "How my"
"Well your novel. The three on the drunkard. Your drunk-novella. You and your two master's boy-friends. "
I remembered now what story turned it up and I had not forgotten that it had also given to one or two quite enthusiastic comments. The amendment was based on real events. "Ah, you mean the amendment Spenglomania." I picked up a bottle of vodka from the floor, eyeing her. A small amount spilled to the ground. In it floated a dead fly.
"Yes," complete shit, repeated Al. "What interests me your first youth then, and that you all come from dysfunctional family's? DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY! "
I drank the rest of vodka and spit the fly.
"This phrase I use?"
Al was such momentum that he's not on my counter-question was received.
"complete shit. Boring. And shit. "
" Someone told me she was "bubbly, I quoted one of the two enthusiastic. Al did not respond.
"I hope you do not mind if I do not give the thing to read my brother?"
Al, I was now on, the amendment had wanted to show his brother. "No, no. I have nothing against it. shit you can find it so. "
Yes," confirmed Al, "Especially with that of the fly. You describe a fly, as it revolves around your Suffbirnen, and circles and circles ... I mean, what's the point? The circles since a full half page long. This is shit. "
Here I had to think for a second, because I had my text not too clear at present.
"Ah. The fly. Exactly. I think it should express that Insects, at certain moments, have more going for, as young drinkers and loudmouths. "
" Does not matter, "Al shouted into the phone," this thing is crap. "
Yes, some they consider mediocre. Trixi, for example. "
" No, not mediocre. It is shit. "
I was gradually growing. I went naked as I was in the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and gave me the phone between shoulder and cheek clamped a beer. After the first sip I was inclined to discuss. I said
Aha. Let me sum up. You mean the amendment is shit? Really, irrevocable, undeniable shit? " Without this casual aside
Fedehandschuh Al asked, "What can I do with the manuscript? I mean when hundreds of pointless wasted hours stuck in it. Shall I keep it or return it to you "
I was in possession of a copy and I said," Yes. No. You can burn it if it pleases you, "said a moment, Al
nothing, then". Yes? This joy would treat me? "
" With all my heart, Al. With all my heart. Shit is burning well. Especially when it is dry. And so my paper would have contributed to a slightly different kind of a joy. At a bonfire. "
" Ah, that was good. If the so you can see, Karl. But what else. Where were you in the last days? Did not reach you. "
" In Salzburg, at Trixi. Paula, her WG-mate was not there, we had the whole place for us. Went to the Rock House and so on. Were relaxed days. "
" You know better again with her what? "
" Yes, yes. But there is no sex. "
" Let any one who believes, "Al doubted.
"I know, Al. It's hard to believe. What are you doing today? Do you have free, or do you wait tables? "Actually, Al
nurses, but he sometimes worked as a waiter at the Innsbruck 11er house. "Do free," he said. "Since global warming is playing a Carinthian rock band. LIFE IN AGONY. The I will look at me. "
" I would like to stop by so once again, but I lack the wherewithal. "
" Work ", Al advised me dry.
"I write," I countered.
"Well," then, "said Al." See you "
Yes," I said. "See you later."
Al hung up. Slowly my mind began to spin the flywheel again. Since Al had just called. Instead of constructive criticism, he had felt impelled an expletive to repeat namely, "Shit," permanent. He had not told me what he wanted to know because now grouped under the expletive "shit": he found the style sucks, the punctuation was no tension there, he criticized the lack of depth, or really bothered him only this circular fly? As I said, the story was based on a true story and it could well be that the reality which she described was shit. As in his eyes. I summed up. The two enthusiasts found the text successfully. Trixi mediocre. Al and shit. "One wonders however," I muttered, shaking his head, "Who is really absurd: the writer, or his critics'

end

to discuss the story on Kurzgeschichten.de

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Why Do I Get Infinity On Vuze

BUILDING

I was little 20 and slept still at home. For a week I worked in construction. Electrical installations. There was a large, multi-storey building shell and the two types, those in the van drove to Hall of Wörgl had eaten for years into the job in itself. This was seen in them.
The driver was a tall beanpole, who did not say much. His mind worked like the dull ticking of an old clock. The second was small, and behind glasses thick as Coke bottles flashed two psychopaths eyes. I was not sure if he sodomites, pedophile, or simply just mentally deranged was completely. The first two days were uneventful. We drove into the Tiefgearage, the beanpole worked somewhere else and I dragged the boy with whom I work, the honor had, tool boxes and cable reels afterwards. About railing loose concrete stairs, it went up to the 7th floor. Then we drilled and schremmten four hours. In the resulting holes and depressions, we moved and installed cable outlets. During the lunch break, I munched me to a quiet place where I could eat in peace my buns and drink my beer. Only the two do not have to see, not only have to talk to them, was my only thought. But I could not think. By Schremmer and drilling was cemented in my brain like. Zero, nada dead, a state that I experienced the first time. It seemed to experience more often not desirable. In the afternoon the same in green. Re-drilling, Schremmer, swallow dust, cables into holes to mount sockets. On the third day of the homecoming trip to the little rolled down the window and yelled repeatedly girl who went on the road behind piggish expressions, and then breaking out into a bleating laugh. Most girls did not respond, others looked confused. The little boy was one of those people who refuse to wash their hair or brush their teeth. He rolled his own cigarettes, spit tobacco crumbs after each train and its two smoking fingers were yellow. On the fourth day, he believed me, under the cable laying, having to tell his life story. It consisted mainly of an endless series of frustrating, unhealthy and underpaid jobs. I had listened in silence. This man interested me less, than this job. And that was saying something. On Friday morning, I trudged behind with tool box and the small cable reel on the concrete stairs, I knew that I would throw in the job. I was not going 20 to be a zombie. In the 7th floor I put down the stuff, and while the little one turned, I took the rest of Kramer from the garage. This time geschremmt only in the morning. In the afternoon, the cables were laid. This work was less strenuous, but basically the same monotonous and boring and crappy as the Schremmer. But, oh wonderful. My mind returned. Soon I was with my thoughts in my local pub. They had a new waitress there, which I pointed.
counter closing time I yelled the boy suddenly, because I had a cable plugged into the wrong pipe and the incorrect information with a hole. He was beside himself. His head was red, and flashed his eyes psychopaths. He yelled something about I was arrogant, I think probably what is better, and he was hot-tempered, and if I'm not careful, we soon had a wound. I pulled the plastic tube from the incorrect hole, and got the wrong cable from the plastic tube. I searched and found the right cable, the right tube and the fitting hole in the wall. So I thought the case does. But the boy did not stop crying. He got just are not produced. He was standing in the bare room and jumped and screamed like Rumpelstiltskin. Reluctance I had to grin. The first smile in this job. But one week-that was too little. The little boy looked at the grin and shot me.
"What is there to grin? You arrogant monkey, you arrogant monkey! "
In his hand he held a crowbar. I had no desire to reply, shook his head and went back to my cable. He grabbed my upper arm. I shook him off. "Hey, hey ...«, I said. He swung the crowbar, but in a reflex that surprised even me, but all too evident, I popped him one with the back of the hand. His glasses sailed against the concrete wall and broke. He proposed to me with the crowbar, but without his glasses he missed me smooth. He threw it away and jumped on me. We fell to the ground and wrestled with each other. He got hold of a cable and wanted me around the neck. But he was just too little, and finally he had the cord around the neck.
I went to. He choked. "Not not," he whispered.
His eyes stood out like a frog. I moved just a little bit and then let go. I got up and knocked me to the concrete dust from the pants.
"I catch you ... I get up ...«, gasped the Small and straightened up. I jogged loose by a few rooms and when I saw that he was not following me, I strolled comfortably down the concrete stairs. That was with the glasses have been my good fortune.
Before the shell I sucked the warm spring air deep into my lungs. Freedom! Redemption! I would stop to Wörgl and I approve of my favorite restaurant a few beers. Maybe the new waitress was there. I had gone barely three paces, when a 1000-gram hammer in front of me slammed on the concrete floor. I looked up. No one was visible.
I took the hammer and threw me a look. The electric company, whose logo was emblazoned on the handle, was to me for exactly one week's wages owed.
Fin

to discuss the story on Kurzgeschichten.de

Monday, March 29, 2010

Card-stacking Examples

Kids of Seasons Part 4 Lisa and Jonas

Lisa and Jonas come in with the circle:

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Lisa and Jonas are in the circle.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Sample Of Retirement Cakes

Kinaskis 119th Dream! Pichler

When I woke up with a vodka hangover, smelling the rumpled bed after bitch. But there was just me. Outside the windows it had to be firm bright. Intense light finger pricked through the holes in the tattered curtain. I attacked, despite the summer temperatures, the wool cap and pulled it over my face.
Ah, yes ... the darkness, did well. I lay there for a good while, and felt nothing: no life command, no motive ... zero ... So have to feel depressed, that of the morning, suddenly no longer come up, I thought with a slight shudder. But I was not depressed. I would be high. I waited. The first clear thought that I could take was the Bulldog and the duration of baby party in his room. I saw Eva, the Jehovah's Witness before me. If Eva was responsible for the bitch smell in my paint? No, it smelled different. Eva, ha What a wax figure. Bulldog had kneaded entirely new, and transformed their religious ardor in the blaze after the alpha animal. And of course, was the alpha animal Bulldog. Sepp Huber pork with real name and a Nazi first water.
A multi-faceted one too! Almost like a Nazi cosmopolitan. I had him picked up at the nature of the flavor around me? Or moment. Was this a chat acquaintance? I had yesterday in FUNNET stopped: A pool of horny teens and young single mothers with sexual minute panic. How could you drink just that they had the next day, no more dew on the exact course of the evening?
I stared through the stitches of wool cap to the wall. In my single booth hung no pictures. In verkatertem state only confuse. White walls, which did well. The simple, the emptiness, the desert. These were the things that needed a battered brain of alcohol, to become clear again. The clarity of silence. The sound of silence ... The mobile phone alarm was alive. The programmed male choir sang
drunken "What shall we do with the loser, what shall we do with the drunken loser, what shall we do with the drunken loser early in the morning ... "With a curse
I tore down my cap and groped in the rumpled sheets after the thing ... but I saw my hand was bloody. But it was not my blood. Above all, it seemed somehow ... so it was not coagulated ... just dried up ... just like ... what a shock: menstrual blood ... The phone was adamant: "What shall we do with the drunken loser, what ..."
I found the trouble maker brought him to silence, and saw that I had a message. Number is hidden, huh. I called it off. A female voice was heard. She was unknown to me, but at the same time it sounded familiar. Immediately I was in love with the warm timbre.
"Hi, du Suffnase old. It is 15 clock on 22 November 2063rd Today, the party continues. Baby Bulldog wants to form his party. In the shadow of climate catastrophe, he will approach the new breed people. He says the fruit is ripe. Terror and the ripe fruit brings to burst. I laugh limp. It is funny anyway. You know what goes on at Bulldog. Would turn you also tell me if you would return. It was great with you. My little, evil Sado-rascal. "
" What the hell ... "I gasped. I was more confused than ever. I got up and found myself completely drawn: only the pants store was open. Between Teeth of the zipper dangled useless the little man, I trudged into the bathroom and washed him. I washed my hands. Something oral hygiene followed. Before the smudged windows, the sun was raging. 31 degrees. And the end of November. I was frying eggs and ham, while the damaged flat-TV brought the news in the refrigerator door. The stentorian voice of the avuncular, very neat Newsman said. "... Is then absorbed a Pacific island In the case of the atoll Crankow 9 residents were evacuated two weeks ago. London: The Rifle World Watch, published their annual WRW report. So there are three billion small arms in the world, with a population of 7 Billion. Africa: The radiation levels in the Sahara since the nuclear accident there two years ago for the first time dropped slightly. Threat to Europe by Sahara winds is not according to experts. New York: The rapper
Sidestepper is back after a year behind bars free. He had fired a paint ball gun on a gang of paparazzi. Added complication was that the balls had been prepared with chloroform. European Union: Due to technical problems is postponed issue of food stamps to the unemployed army by one day. Vienna ... "
I did not listen more, ate and sat on my floppy hat. With shaved skull and this last of the sun is a must. Also led my way by the Autonomous District. "Red Rudi" they called it. After some freak communists from the 20th century. And then their eternal Che tattoos. In any case, the autonomous threw all that ne had bald from the windows of their houses occupied by waste. Even with old flower pots in which they drew their terrible hemp. No matter whether one was a Nazi, or cosmopolitan, as I do. This numb jaws made no difference. A bald enough.

2


I went out in spite of this great catastrophe and all the bloodlust so dreadfully dull world. Uff! As little as I had our old horse apple never interested. I was trying to turn around. But then I fell into this warm timbre of the words: Would turn you me, if you turn up, again. In the autonomous district
saw me with my grim pleasure that the Global Police had begun. Their black helmets and boots glistened in the scorching sun.
"The good old GLOPO," I muttered and smiled. The officer just gave the command: "stick-FREE"
and Schwarzuniformierten stormed a tenement from the windows of household was raining. Chairs, clothes dryers, dwarf turtles ... wait, dwarf turtles? I ran and picked the poor thing. She lived, kicking her legs income and looked at me blankly out of their enigmatic button eyes.
"Well, you ... I plug up time in the pocket. . At Bulldog, I think certainly some green stuff for you. "
From inside the houses resounded suddenly screams The unruly youths were decently listened to the Twelve, as it seemed in passing chat I the officer with an older pedestrians.
" Go they not a bit too brutal? "asked the latter.
" The need that they believe me, "was the reply.
I turned in the Philemon-street and passed some pomaded Young Turks, who were a ghetto Booster, music listened, laughed and danced. The apartment building in the Bulldog threw his party was only a stone's throw away. It was 200 years old, two-storey and the ugliest of the road. The four wood-paneled balconies, conservatories really stuck, like an afterthought at the house and gave the impression as if every second fall. On coarse gray plaster found the crows stop when they arrived in March from the mountains.
jumping spiders is populated summer: a small, cute style with black and white striped legs. Came to them with your index finger to close she jumped from here like locusts. The house was inhabited by social wrecks. A drunkard, whom you never saw before noon in the hallway: with spotty dressing gown, crumpled Altmännergesicht and stubble. One ancient Witch House, but with open eyes, the can also be someone on the upper arm took to get rid of their bon mots of foreigners. For example: "In my day they were called immigrants, even those running up gypsy!"
then lived in an attic of the two chambers, a 30 year old illiterate woman with the nickname Wau. She was fat, smoked like a chimney and had a wife beard. In the other compartment occupied by a multiple brain surgery. When he came out of the hospital, he always looked fresh: there due to the healthy food, and drink because he was not allowed. After a month of freedom, he looked back from like 60 even though he was barely 40: a marked man who stole a sausage dog limping his daily rounds. But the house had a huge advantage: everyone could wanted it to do it. Was a loud, the other was simply louder. The Witch House heard anything anyway, brain operated patients had other concerns, and the rest of the tenants had already drunk all day. Whom it is made to the colorful moved out.
Bulldogs place was spacious and full of Nazikram. Somewhere he had a Walther PPK tucked. He considered himself an ugly attack dog hybrid, which went by the name of nuts. Bulldog led like the talking - he liked to listen to songs like "We will survive ..." and similar Schwulenhymen from the 20th century. A certain Udo Jürgens was time for his favorite: ". For always, always, the sun rises"
Trixi, my elapsed had wanted to join me one day Bulldog. "Yes. This is impossible, "I had a shot blocked. "The atmosphere will make you sick. It also stinks of laboratory rats. "
" It stinks of laboratory rats? "
" Bulldog has made up some years ago cancer experiments. In rats. The rats are dead but the stinking cages today to himself. "
" Yuck. "
" Furthermore, because nuts. "
" nuts? "
" An ugly attack dog, which I personally think schizophrenic. "
Trixi had never asked me again. I stood in front Bulldogs apartment door, and rang, I zuhielt by the spy with the thumb.

3


opened my mouse. Small, sharp-nosed and with the usual nasty grin.
He was such a thing as adjutant Bulldogs. I think he even washed his socks.
"Ah, Karl. You're just right. Ex-Bulldogs in-law is there. A field day. He makes ready-to all eyes, the old, drunken bumpkin "
I wanted to push on mouse over, but the stood in my way.
"Stop. How was the slogan for this week? "
" Shall I tell you what, mouse? Screw you. "
" The leader is not itself clear? The guide is When will you yourself do not remember you at last the solutions? But with you I can make ne exception, "Mouse said patronizingly and stepped aside. Of course I knew the solution. And I knew mouse for 5 years. The whole thing with the slogan was a joke as far as it concerned me.
was in the living hell broke loose. To be snapped TV wall, the 30 station segments nobody noticed sang Udo Jürgens: "Seventeen years, blond hair, she stood before me ..." and they all stared at the old woman: Eve, the fervent Jehovah's Witness, Ed is the young farmer, spent the marathon legend, the tall Olympic silver medalist and the comedians hope.
"dancing, yes dancing, laughing, shouting Bulldog and his ex-mother-in stark naked, did with his hands shackled behind his back, mouth and dangling bulb hanging tits it. She danced and spun in circles. She gasped for air and pump worked mightily.
"Yes, my little dancing bear. That is right. Dance. Dance for us! "
she was in Bulldogs eyes slowly, they got one pulled over with the belt. Liked the mouse beyond measure. He laughed and slapped his thigh. The Olympic silver medalist was the perverse and twisted into a cigarette length in the winter garden. The old man collapsed with the end. Was simply. Like a wet sack. Silence.
"If we rescue the ...?" asked Mouse.
"Oh, we let the hag lie. This is not over. That's just unconscious. Too many drugs, "said Bulldog. When he saw the horror in the eyes of comedians hope, he added: "But the rescue can call you anyway. The old cow is alpha insured. They pick up a luxury car. "
mouse and telephoned Bulldogs gave up some of the internals of the old woman who was like a wet sack on the ground. You could see her straight into the shaved step. On her pubic bone was emblazoned a tattoo: the Ying and Yang symbol.
Bulldog said: "This Vettel has been drained from me not too long ago bucket full of sluts distrust of me. A la: so this is the son of my Lilith. You know, Lilith. The hot blonde, with whom I was three years combined. Really people. I was puff. Such a collision of mistrust and suspicion, I had never seen until now! I thought then, well so are they, the mothers, the whole will lie again. But what happened instead, my fellow? The old woman conspired with Lilith and suddenly it was as if I deserved it too little. "
" You had a job then? ", Wondered the lanky young farmer. He could not believe that Bulldog had once made their hands dirty.
"I was a bouncer," said Bulldog, unwilling interruption of the innocent, and continued: "The old woman had a sudden fear in money and money illusion. It was so ridiculous that I laughed. If she had finally gone away in Albania, where they lived at that time would also be their hysteria gone. I thought. It was so different then. Lilith switched sides and the old woman had achieved their goal. One week she was here on a visit, and brought to Lilith, to separate from me. Lilith moved out. Just like that. Paff. "We all stared at her naked body that was illuminuirt artfully through the colorful TV wall.
"She is still over," said Mouse.
are "An old smelly cheese mite you, listen you love me? "Bulldog roared again when he wanted to check if she was awake by it.
"Tell me how you have them later into drug addiction in revenge, the old woman, hahaha ..." laughed mouse.
"no. First I had seduced the old man. I have made them sexually dependent. Then I have drugged. The little red, you know, "taught him Bulldog.
" The Red? "Listened" to the marathon legend tarried, and the toilet.
Bulldog took his servant, and the Jehovah's Witness was about to bend down to him obediently to them in their mouths. But Bulldog had something else in mind. He got up, went into the center of the room and urinated on his ex-in-law. Mouse squealed with delight and it did not stop to splash.
ran in one of the segments of a live TV debate. Among the display: THIS WAS THE TWENTIETH CENTURY a shaggy man just said: "... after the anti-Communist preacher and hydrogen bomb Freak Edward Teller and the Vietnamese eaters Henry Kissinger had teamed up ..."
"Wait," interrupted the stylish DJ: "I can not think what on, young man, I notice with them, which strikes me for years with people like them. "
" Aja? And what would it be, pal? " said the long-haired challenging. He proudly showed a tooth missing.
The presenter said: "cowardice". "Cowardice"
The tooth gap frowned.
"Yes. Only since the United States by their second Civil war is a radioactive wilderness, you freaks talking so their former officials. "
" dignitaries. Shit. Kissinger ate Vietnamese. "
" Young man, they guard their tongue ", another discussant went in between. He wore a pince-nez, an old-fashioned double-breasted suit and smoking a pipe.
Bulldog had meanwhile finished his business. He was just about to sit back, as It rang the doorbell. Mouse darted into the hall. Mouse came back, the burned-writers in tow. He was tall, skinny, is a joint turned to the other and rarely spoke. He nodded to us, the old woman stepped over and sat down. Without a word he began to unpack his grass. What a mess, I thought. And this bizarre Personage wants to start a Nazi Party. Ridiculous. This is never something. Mouse said: "Wow is also outside. The cow asked me when the next train to Munich. Will kidding me? "He turned to Bulldog"?. What should I do with it, my guide "
" glue her a "mouse
I was on the upper arm back.
"That let times. I take over. "
In contrast to the Horde ignorant I was not been too good, I am involved with various Wau in hallway conversations. I was the only one here who knew about her illiteracy. A knotless illiterate. That was in the fortress Europe has long been nothing unusual. You could eigenlich well with them. Just know you had it. Otherwise, there were misunderstandings. Wau smiled when she saw me. I gave her the required information and they thanked him. I do not know why, but I reached into my pocket for money and gave her a fiver. Surprised, she stared at the slip.
"Thank you. But what should I do with it? "
I stared at her women's beard and a sense of hopelessness overwhelmed me.
"Go buy detonators."
painted Suddenly, horror in her face. Bulldog standing next to me.
"Ah Wau. Maintenance. Do not run away. Stayed here, I have a bone to pick with you. You are to me again too loud. You go at night walking back up there. Rückst furniture. Your miserable cough smoker's cough! Have I not told by 22 clock is radio silence? Damn it! "
Wau winced. Bulldog gathered steam:
"Who am I to everything in the world, at your neurotic, absurd, disgusting, crazy insomnia need to anticipate! Huh? Maggots as you have already been crushed because of something like that! From now on in your shed! And woe if I hear something today! "
Wau would notice anything.
" Shut up! "Roared Bulldog.
" Hey, hey. She is illiterate, "I tried to calm Bulldog.
" What? "
Wau had already disappeared behind the bend of the musty hallway, but he called after her: "And learn to read, you bitch"
You heard her howls, ran into her crate and the door slammed behind him
No. he was not a sympathetic Nazi
... He was, as I was now clear, basically not much more sublime than the usual Nazi Plates. He did just that sometimes. He stood out so much from them. Well, it was common and well-read. He was brown, without belonging to the brown infantry. But that was that already. At best, a Sergeant, I thought. Created the brown pack against the crazy anarchists, and communists to lead into battle. And it would soon be possible. For the heat of the unemployed on both sides did no good. Soon the road would race. And no GLOPO would get a grip. As it was put, a TV reporter, "The world is an oven and brown beet thrives again magnificent. But the red beets. Quite apart from all the autonomous weed that proliferates everywhere and anyway do not know what it wants. "
I had to leave. In the narrow escape of the toilet was the marathon legend. Two fingers of the right arm stuck out rigidly like horns. The face had a terrible color. In addition, crouched nuts, the attack dog and nibbled from a box his Leberschmackos. Links from the Klomuschel I saw the Walther PPK lie. If the marathon legend have shot? No. It had been heard no shot. I took the gun at me, and checked the magazine. It was quite full. I let slip the gun into the outer pocket of my cargo. Back in the living room I said,
"I do not think the marathon legend lives special."
"The fact that is fortunate. The rescue is here. Come on Eva, do the handcuffs from the old and take her mouth from pear. "
Eve, the Jehovah's Witnesses-sex slave obeyed. The two types of rescue the old and the marathon legend out of the house had managed, revised.
"If both insured?" Asked one.
"Yes. Alpha insurance ", log mouse. The marathon legend, it was not. The lad would flutter a horrendous bill into the house. I went to the Olympia II in the winter garden. Pole vault the way, and 1.93. Great as Abraham Lincoln. Slim. She liked me. She sat with legs crossed in the old wing chair and lit another cigarette just at.
"I am sick of the hustle and bustle here," she said.
I was silent, sat down beside her and grabbed her in the crotch. She gave me a quick look that said as much: "Now I'm just hole up for what, but I enjoy it?." She opened her endless legs a bit, closed his eyes and leaned back and relax. Before the smudged windows of the black clouds towering mountains. Furious wind drove into the trees in the street. A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows of the conservatory. The loose windows rattled. Then I made a mistake.
"Do you know that voice?" I asked, playing her the mysterious cell phone message before.
replied While the warm timbre of magic in the air vibrations, took the Olympic silver medalist from its move my hand and said,
"no. Never heard of. But the woman sounds like a hooker "
" Do you like "
" And what that means.? Sado-rascal "
" Well, I like to know myself, "I sighed. From the living room was heard argument.
"You ass, you stupid ass! You you order a swastika flag? Art thou in total ass? "shouted Bulldog.
"What of it, Bulldog?", Defended the voice of the young farmers.
"What is it? WHAT THERE IS. I AM SHORT NUTS TO YOU BEFORE rushing! If the sniffer learn in the Internet, you're in the ass! The take you to post. The squeezed you out. You sing. And then put the Bulls their pig's snout in here! Here with me! And with wars party. You'll be dead before we have them at all founded, "
A door slammed. The young farmer was probably cut off.
" What shall we do with the traitor, Bulldog? "Whimpers mouse.
" He's not a traitor. Only stupid . Where's the way our intellectual? Where's Karl? "
" Here, "I cried.
Bulldogs massive figure pushed his way into the conservatory. He was sweaty and stressed. In His hand was in a vodka bottle. I drank occasionally. But he clearly drank too often and too much. He stumbled from one state to another aversive. Alcoholic psychosis to put him. But as it looked, he was now quite normal. Bulldogs face relaxed when he saw me. He sat down next to me. He was conciliatory.
"If any more on it than I do, you're the you, Karl. You will be the intellectual. The thinkers of the party. While I am their leader. "
am The thing with the party establishment he was no longer simply the bulb. She was sitting in his brain like a worm.
"Oh, the party. Right. How can she still hot again? "
" Skadi. Sports camaraderie Adi, "said Bulldog with weighty voice.
I escaped a grin. The Olympic silver medalist said: "What a nonsense." But before Bulldog could respond to this apparent insubordination, something different.
mouse was silently stepped into the doorway and said, "I knew it, Bulldog. I told you to say. Karl is not one of us! Look how he grins. He is a left rat. "
" Shut up, Mouse, commanded Bulldog.
mouse suddenly crowed: "There, the bulge in his pants!" I think he combined blitzschnell.Konnte the Walther? No, he pointed to the other side of my Cargo. Inside was just put away the phone.
I took out the phone: "Does any of you that voice"
, I asked, also, to distract from the mouse Walther. The melodious prose sounded again.
"Hi, is you are 15 clock on 22 November 2063rd Today, the party continues. Baby Bulldog wants to form his party. In the shadow of climate catastrophe, he will approach the new breed people. He says the fruit is ripe. And terrorism is the ripe fruit brings to burst. "I switched off. The had to rest not hear them. Bulldog scratched his pork neck.
" No. The chick I do not know. Today many chicks were there. And types. But they the touted the party's founding, I do not like, "I looked
to mouse. Its beady eyes were again fixed on my Cargo.
"Da-he still has something in his bag, Bulldog. In the outer pocket. A station. A station. He is by the cops. He is a traitor. "
" Oh shut up. But really, what you have in the yard sack, Karl? "
A Walther, with the I kill you all, I wanted to say, pull the pistol, and, availing the element of surprise, getting away from this stall. But at the last moment I realized that mouse looked at the other leg. The dwarf turtle, shot me. I carefully took out her. She rowed with all fours. Bulldog laughed. "This is but sweet," said the Olympic silver medalist.
I stroked the tiny toads head and said, overcome by sincere love of animals:
"speak I have not quite forgotten little thing. Hast thou lettuce Bulldog, Bulldog
turned to mouse. "Since you have your traitor, idiot"
mouse was not yet convinced.
"This is not real. The station is in the turtle! The station is in the turtle, "he insisted, and his psychotic view informed me that he was on dope.
"This is real, you moron. There, snapping, "I said and held it toward him quickly.
mouse flinched.
"The station is in the turtle," he said.
Karl is not a traitor, "said Bulldog quiet and suddenly had his switchblade in his hand. He let it go out, and handed it to me.
"Karl will show us all that he is not a traitor."
"What should I use the knife?" I asked.
A huge clap of thunder sounded. The storm had arrived over the city.
"This is a timing as in a B-movie," remarked the Olympic silver medalist.
"cutting" them, "said Bulldog.
"What, them?" I asked, puzzled, pointing to the Olympic silver medalist. The suddenly looked very taken aback.
"no. Do not they ... you will miss the dwarf turtle , Cut Karl .--- and show us a good party man, that no station's inside. "
" pervert, "said the Olympic silver medalist in disgust-but also facilitates significantly.
"I slots but no dwarf tortoise on," I said.
"traitor," yelled mouse. His beady eyes glittered maliciously. With threatening Bulldog said emphatically: "slot on it, Karl. Nature is cruel. And our party it is. "
" No, "I said.
Bulldog looked somewhat sadly.
" He is ... ", mouse began.
" Shut up ", he fell into the Bulldog word.
A pause, filled with the roles Thunder re entered.
"NUTS!" Roared Bulldog and immediately turned, alarmed and submissive, is it an old attack dog around the corner. Bulldog pointed at me.
"barrel nuts. Kill '
The schizophrenic animal stared at me from his bloodshot goggle eyes.
I stared back. I was determined to shoot him with the Walther, when he went off on me ... but nothing happened. The beast had simply been too used to me, they liked me! Mouse hollow laugh and got a head of Bulldog nut missed. The Olympic silver medalist was heard a crazy giggle.
"BARREL NUTS! FASS, FASS, FASS, "roared out of the Bulldog and came with his combat boots for the dog. The whining piteously. For me it was time to go. I took out the Walther - and threw her to the Bulldog. The she began to totally flabbergasted. I turned around and left Bulldogs stall forever.
musty hallway I could hear the mouse scream through the door: "Pop it off, Bulldog. Pop it off, the dirty traitor. "
" Oh, shut your mouth just "boomed Bulldog.
hardly relieved himself outside the forces of nature in a downpour.
The dancing Turks grabbed up her boom box and fled into a hallway. Heavy drops falling on the dusty asphalt as instructive now swept road. In the warm rain, I strolled into town. On the train bridge, I stopped. I stared at the brown waves of the river that divides the town. As I stood there mesmerized. The dwarf turtle in my hand. The foaming of the waves in the eye. The roar of the water and the patter of the torrential rain, in the ears. A black wind pants danced in a slow zig-zag approach to the flow. Where they touched the shore they uprooted bushes, sucking them into the sky and hurled them. Then I saw the other people on the bridge. There was a slim girl. Jeans and vest soaked. The black hair stuck to her cheeks. She walked through the rain, relaxed, as is the entire, vast, black sky her shower. She grinned as the closer, knowing and fell directly in front of my eyes. Happened to me, looked up and a look of hungry men hit me like an arrow! A familiar scent touched me ... no, fragrance is wrong ... it was something that held the middle between fragrance and stench. It conveyed both joy and horror. I stared at her, like her, swinging the butt headed, slow and cool at the station. I was about to follow her, for she was, she had to be, my unknown - and froze. The hectic whirlwind had suddenly appeared in their immediate vicinity. When they had grown out of the ground. They recognized the girl and threw it up like a doll. Who sailed in all the limbs as loose-acting, human body via the railway station and disappeared. A blue flash as high voltage current weather shone in the rain. I heard excited shouts, such as if a great misfortune happened. And a voice was in my head: "Hi, du It's 15pm on 22 November 2063rd Today, the party continues ... "


end

to discuss the story on Kurzgeschichten.de

Monday, March 15, 2010

Cindy Crawford Chandelier

!

When I was not 18 to Paras, the Cold War was still raging. Or should we say, he Lifeless Frozen? Anyway, it was blissful times for our trainers imbecile, because they could rely on a clear enemy. "We in Austria are the first bulwark of defense of the free world," shouted our lieutenant. "Every shot, a Russian!" Yelled as Wehrmann Pichler, and promptly got a weekend curfew. This was the first time he struck me. Pichler was a great gawk, broad in the shoulders, but of strangely soft joints. In his red hair shone a pale dead face, in the loose skin always nested some pustules. They had white or yellow tips, so you felt like to express them. After the two-month basic training, I pushed with Pichler Struber watch in the barracks, in urban areas Salzburg is located close to the state mental hospital. Originally I had intended only as a guard replacement, but a guard soldier was killed in a car accident the obligatory Paras and I came to the train. How Pichler and the others I chose the guard pushing, because the 24 - slash - 48-hour cycle. Less Paras did not work. They had only one problem: not being able to sleep. Two men were sitting up front, one slept on a cot - four hours. He could not sleep at the appointed time, he slept not at 24h. And then he had just 48 hours free. Because they wanted to sleep either. Accordingly, one could see from the laundry if you live ammunition in the morning with his rifle when the civilian employee of the barracks, Coming from the comfort of his private life at the gate poured in, painted in red and white, stood guard house. It was always tired, if you just was not sleeping with it. To wegzudösen not if you had to stay awake, so they drank coffee, read others, smoked like chimneys, or listened to radio.
Pichler was a special case. He expected to stay awake. He had graduated in mathematics, with very good, as he stressed, had also taken part in many a competition, dealing with numbers compared with the use of a violin virtuoso on his instrument and ... in short, he loved the arithmetic, as sin . One day I was sitting with Pichler front in the guard room. It was late at night. The barriers were down, the locked main gate was in the light of a lantern. Rear snoring Schneider, the third man a simpleton from the country. Pichler began to pen and paper to create handle. He raised the nonsense of tasks-all from the head angle function calculations, and Infinitesimalzeugs Differentialschmuhfu, and integral stuff ... Those brain acrobatics just that I had when fresh Schulabrecher so thick. Quite different Pichler. He was extremely sharp computing. Even his hand darted across the paper, which was filled with numbers and signs, as they rained down on. Sometimes he paused briefly, thinking, figures whispered, muttered syllables, and even sped back to the pencil. He was in how I distrust watched more and more lively. And while I had a vision of a foaming glass of beer, he seemed quite drunk alone at his numbers can be! I thought that was unfair. So it could go no further! I said. "Pichler - but let the computer shit"
"Why - I like this or I go gaga"
"it all go gaga with this club.. To fight it is pointless. What brings you this, that you solve this trigonometric functions? What is that since its the way? "I pointed to a crazy doodle that could be the best will in no mathematical symbols.
"What?"
"Well, this scribble."
"A rock. I calculate his Height without have access to its base. "
" Huh? How can you have no access to his base? "
" Well, there is no trespassing. "
" Where? "
Pichler, annoyed by my question scribbled quickly a sign with the words" no trespassing "at the base of the rock.
"Well, good, but what we gegegn that help the Russians?" I joked.
"seed whom" other, Pichler said.
"Well, well, seriously. How are we going then, "
" Well just - by trigonometric functions. Sine, cosine ... "
And tangent, yes, stay away from me so that shit. When we go drinking at last one? You wanted me to show some pubs. "
" Yes, yes, tomorrow ... "
" Tomorrow? Then I'll stay in the barracks, drive home, do not we pour us one in the collar. In civilian clothes. "
Yes," said Pichler and his hand began to flit back. I watch him for a while, listened as he whispered to his charms and was finally defeated me. When he at 4 clock, was sleeping in the series, he had filled two dozen leaves, tossed restlessly on his bed ... and could not sleep. Schneider kept me company now. To not talk to him about the agricultural sector, where he worked, must, I pretended that I though I read would. But the letters of the tape that I had with me, "Eckermann, Conversations with Goethe" blurred, before my eyes. With the words, "What are you reading?" It suddenly took on the cutter. "Ah ...«, he did know-all. "Eckermann, conversations with," he put his finger on the name "... Go-ethe. "He actually spoke the syllables from separately! Ethe-Go! Shaking his head, I stared out of the barriers.
The last hour before our lunch release came, I was in the red and white houses out there. Not long and a graying man came up to me. He smiled. The smell of danger. Did I imagine, at least.
on Sun you speak English? "smiled the man Was there something wrong? Suddenly, a man in a long robe and with fixed stare joined me at the bar and had not been and will not move to leave. Then it was the officer from service a chair brought out and the man had set himself: "He's from the state mental hospital. We know, he does often. I've already called. The fetch him at once, "my officer had said. "So no reason to shoot him?" Had asked me. It should have been a joke, but the officer had looked at me aghast. The man here, however, seemed quite healthy. But he looked at me continue and I had the suspicion he might be an English patient of the state mental hospital.
"English?" I asked innocently.
He: "Yeah. Do you speak english? "
" Eh, yeah. A little bit, "he
". Oh, that's good. I was here, too. Like you in this house. After the war. In 45 Everything the same. It's all the same. I was in the Army, U.S.. Army. Forty-five. "
" Aha, "said I came to the conclusion, not dealing with a real tourist and a state mental hospital inmates to have. He looked through the fence on the administration building and I left him alone with his memories. Had he started photographing, I would have it, according to regulations, by moving to - well, not by moving the same, but frightened. With shouts and shots. Or him shoot the camera from his hand. But of course I would have let him take as many photos as he wanted to. For what did I care about the club imbecile? To hell with the Cold War. Each beer was more important to me! But the Americans knew what was proper. He photographed it and I was not forced to do so, but I do not see it. He just stood and stared in front of the barriers to the administrative buildings over. The window of the guard-room opened, and Schneider said: "Do you need help, Kinaski"
You, no tailor. I have everything under control. Relax, read ... a little in Go-ethe ... I can only recommend. "Schneider concluded vaguely insulted the window. But wait! As a tear glistened in the eyes of Americans? He looked long at the building. Then he pulled himself together and smiled and said. "Goodby," "So long, I replied. On the other side of the street, he ascended, as I now saw, a fairly mundane car. So he has achieved something, I thought. Having thus umgenietet us so many German, he has achieved something. It could just as well be reversed. A German could have umnieten him, I spun on the idle thoughts, and the German would be today with a swanky car . Chauffeured around Only he would consider any military barracks in the U.S., he would ...
"Who was that?" Schneider was adjusted fully, lined up for release ritual.
"An American."
"Fuck Amy," said Schneider, farted and took his place. "How was the Go-ethe?" I asked.
"I so do not read shit. And in general. You and Pichler. I do not like you. You believe to be a little better. "
" Stay short time, Schneider I have shit. "
I unloaded the gun, holding the barrel in the sand box, and entered the police station. Relieved, I said, "So now we are nearly there. Then, drunk! Yes, dammit, Pichler! You calculate yes again. In broad daylight. "
I snatched him the paper with the Kritzelfelsen and the sign" no trespassing "and he jumped up. But he threw himself not to me but ripped a full magazine from his hip pocket, put it in his gun and aimed at me.
"Now you are due, Kinaski. It is enough, "he yelled. I took full recovery as fast as never before in my young life, and that when I threw myself under the bed. Pichler I heard laughing and take the magazine out again. My pump was pounding as I straightened up. Pichler was back at the table as if nothing had happened, and grinned. I looked at his gun, the back leaning against the wall. Pichler put the magazine back in the bag.
"And you're sure you do not have any?" I asked myself knocking the dust off the uniform.
"Certainly ...«, Pichler said, grinning. "And today is drunk," he added. "After I've grown at home. Let's say in the meeting drei clock Müllner Bräu? "I nodded. I could only hope that he was unarmed.

2

The second part is quickly told. Pichler and I were already in Müllnerbräu blotto. Against 19h Clock we stumbled, raucous, and giggling like children, continue to Augustinerbräu. There we threw up in a comradely Eintracht down the toilet. I'd told Pichler the matter with Schneider, and kept shouting: "Go-ethe! Go-ethe, "what Pichler was extremely funny. As
Pichler wanted me to tell a joke mathematician, I waved him off. "Pichler, no! We are so gloriously drunk, "
he insisted. .?. "Well, well, out with it,"
"Like a mathematician catches a lion in the desert"
"Do not know"
"He sits in a cage, and defined: is out here," I smiled politely, but the joke had done its work, because Pichler roared with laughter. When he had recovered, he said, "I have one more. not "
" Pichler, we prefer to drink, Miss, two Stiegl, "
" The "is always short, insisted Pichler. "Well, then, go shoot," I said and looked at him meaningfully.
"If a mathematician in a photo shop. He: Madam, I would like to develop this film. They have very, good. Nine times thirteen? He: 117 why "Pichler laughed and kept yelling suddenly hand over his mouth. He looked at them. Some were in them puke. He dropped under the table and wiped his hand on the tablecloth. Finally
took me Pichler in a special bar, he said. She was tight, red lights and as soon as we sat, two hostesses joined us. They attacked us in the crotch. We invited for a glass of champagne. Mine drank her quickly.
"Would you then asked another ...«, I, the drinks in his hand and froze. If I paid my small beer and its even smaller champagne, I was broke. The drink prices were here as in the brothel. I got up abruptly and went to Pichler. Moment, Puff?
"Let's get out of pay and Pichler. Here we are yes except as the idiots. "Pichler obeyed without a will in drunkenness. Outside in the narrow, cobblestone street, I cried!
"That was a Scheißpuff, Pichler"
I know, " Pichler groaned and sat down exhausted on the sidewalk.
"Where we still only have our shit pay. And now the tide is out. Why did you want in there? We could continue to drink for three hours, "
" I'm serving, "moaned Pichler.
"But I do not. Why did you want in there? "
" Well, because of the women. The fall from such a beautiful "
I touched his head." Pichler, that's the last one. Since cross I love myself, and for five sauf beer! ? Do you have coal, "Pichler shook his head and said:
" were used a lot cheaper. The have become so very expensive, so I did not expect. "

end

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Silvercity Job Interview

The Old Man and the newspaper dispenser

The old man usually wore a green loden jacket, a matching felt hat and walked with a cane. This was necessary, otherwise he would still tilted forward krummrückig as he was. It was asked whether he had under his hat brim enough to clear view forward. He had a good face, only the lower jaw sprang from something. As a nursing home resident who was well acquainted in this district. Sunday morning, he regularly took his newspaper from the dispenser around the corner. Winter and summer. When it rained, and even if it had fallen. If he, on shaky legs, slowly putting the stick, approached the lamp posts, from which hung the donors are afraid one that he could slip any moment topple over, or. That never happened. He simply slowed his pace. He walked around the lamppost, and the removal of the newspaper, throwing the coins was like a ritual. First he brought in front of the plastic dispenser in position. By identifying himself with his left hand at the cold poles, he leaned his cane against it, to have one hand free. Then he fumbled so slow, but ultimately more successful, his newspaper published. He covered so that it became a role, and she was now working in the inside pocket of his coat stuck to. To this end, it took several tries. This made it sought to continually provides support for the mast, in the shell outside pocket for loose coins. The he interjected, without him ever one had fallen on the sidewalk. Finally, everything was right, he took a stick at, and went slowly putting the stick, again on his way back into the nursing home. The residents of the street knew the old man, waiting patiently behind him, sometimes on Sundays, before they moved their newspaper.
One day, wanted to help a stranger, young lady, when she saw the potter trembling, bent man at the newspaper stand. She stepped nearer, something that earned head-shaking, reached out helping, was repelled by an angry motion of the elbow and stepped back in surprise. The old man trembled with the perceived helpfulness as a disorder more, and for a moment it looked as if it were nothing this time with his newspaper.
The young woman came again nearer the elbow went again to the outside and then rudely turned them away and went. In the distance she stopped short, looked around and sat her way away shaking his head, while the old man triumphantly held the newspaper in his gouty hands.
FIN

Monday, March 1, 2010

Dirt Bike Party Themes

Kids of Seasons Part 3 Lilly and David

are the next Children:
Lilly

and David

Have fun!


----------------------------------------------- ------------------------

Next kids are Lilly and David.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

How To Break In Leather

QUILTERS BLESSINGS Pics

In this post you'll find some pics from the BOM 2008 QUILTER BLESSINGS.
Thanks to all for sharing the pics with us.

A wonderful combination with a spool-block.

From Katell with a lovely Capricorn Design in the left corner.

Nurse License Expire Ohio

ONCE UPON A TIME Pics

In this post you´ll find pics from the 2009 BOM "ONCE UPON A TIME".
Thanks for sharing.



Ursula kombinierte die Capricorn-Märchenblöcke mit anderen märchenhaften Designs.
Ursula´s combination with other fairy-blocks.


Dornröschen
Britta 'S blocks 11 and 12 from the fairy tale-BOM "ONCE UPON A TIME" Rumpelstiltskin


Uschi and


Senta their story quilts have done.