Friends and readers, I note that as of today can find the number 5 Disposable Backyard Magazine "Urban Crossings" in our stores, remember that now only costs 10 pesos. We are celebrating yet another year, thank you for your preference.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
How To Make Open Storage Bench
As a white silk stockings, slipped on that prey buried in the hills. The emerging rays of sun just scattered density. Nepomuceno watching the scenery while riding his bike course Nuevo Necaxa market. The patron, Don Braulio, had said earlier on local open for cleaning. I never really liked to do the cleaning. But work always carries responsibilities outside of which no one could escape. At least that's what your mother always told.
The market was mostly deserted, only a few merchants began to arrive. Nepomuceno down your bike to stand in front of the curtain of metal. Vainly sought the keys in his pocket, he had forgotten at home. But not your home. The house had left Concha. The woman who enjoyed the evening walk in the mantle of her dark skin. Realizing his carelessness, rode back to their transport to go rushing home to his beloved. He could not afford that Don Braulio will raise the voice again, for another small mistake. The first time was his boss scolded him for being ten minutes late, the day after his birthday. The second for doing wrong and give an account of over two dollars to a client. Nepomuk could not tolerate another punishment. Slipping
ably through the narrow streets between the emerging post, I thought only reach Concha before working out. Rode in haste, when he passed through the dam was already fading mist. Only a few feet and come with his love. He walked along the road until you reach the small house located beside a winding road. Dismounting quickly, he dropped the bike from the ground. He was about to knock on the door when he heard another voice, Concha y unknown male inside. The sound of voices paralyzed him dry. A strange shiver ran down her spine down to his skull. He recalled what had been, plucked courage and knocked on the door. The voice of Concha
spit a "Who?" Grumpy. Nepomuceno replied as usual, "I, who else." Softly opened the door to reveal half of her face was inside. Without hiding his amazement, Concha asked
- What are you doing here, I said I was going to work? -
"Yes, but I forgot the keys, you can enjoy myself, I think I left on the desk in the room," said shakily not hide his disappointment. Concha
closed the door to go for the keys. The unknown man's voice was heard from inside, like an echo of death for Nepomuceno. Was desperate, first things work and now this. I could not believe it was as if suddenly the world would have been slapped by turning to him. It opened the door again.
"Here are the keys," said Concha while extending those metal objects.
- Did not you say you were going to work, who are you? - Asked hoarsely
"I'm working, I did not tell you, but it is time for you to know. I'm a whore, and you're interrupting my work hours, and so like you, I too am a responsible person with my day job. So please go, it's getting late you replied as if it were more natural dam in the region.
Nepomuceno took his bike from the ground and sped off unintentionally turn to see.
walked slowly, as if it were able to shape the time at will. Prisa.Llegó was no longer in the store, Don Braulio was already there, looking like a raging bull. Then the sermon began with the usual "is not possible for someone so young be so useless if I was your age, you demonstrate what is to be responsible." Nepomuceno his eyes down, quietly opened the metal door. He realized that being responsible was a whoring.
The market was mostly deserted, only a few merchants began to arrive. Nepomuceno down your bike to stand in front of the curtain of metal. Vainly sought the keys in his pocket, he had forgotten at home. But not your home. The house had left Concha. The woman who enjoyed the evening walk in the mantle of her dark skin. Realizing his carelessness, rode back to their transport to go rushing home to his beloved. He could not afford that Don Braulio will raise the voice again, for another small mistake. The first time was his boss scolded him for being ten minutes late, the day after his birthday. The second for doing wrong and give an account of over two dollars to a client. Nepomuk could not tolerate another punishment. Slipping
ably through the narrow streets between the emerging post, I thought only reach Concha before working out. Rode in haste, when he passed through the dam was already fading mist. Only a few feet and come with his love. He walked along the road until you reach the small house located beside a winding road. Dismounting quickly, he dropped the bike from the ground. He was about to knock on the door when he heard another voice, Concha y unknown male inside. The sound of voices paralyzed him dry. A strange shiver ran down her spine down to his skull. He recalled what had been, plucked courage and knocked on the door. The voice of Concha
spit a "Who?" Grumpy. Nepomuceno replied as usual, "I, who else." Softly opened the door to reveal half of her face was inside. Without hiding his amazement, Concha asked
- What are you doing here, I said I was going to work? -
"Yes, but I forgot the keys, you can enjoy myself, I think I left on the desk in the room," said shakily not hide his disappointment. Concha
closed the door to go for the keys. The unknown man's voice was heard from inside, like an echo of death for Nepomuceno. Was desperate, first things work and now this. I could not believe it was as if suddenly the world would have been slapped by turning to him. It opened the door again.
"Here are the keys," said Concha while extending those metal objects.
- Did not you say you were going to work, who are you? - Asked hoarsely
"I'm working, I did not tell you, but it is time for you to know. I'm a whore, and you're interrupting my work hours, and so like you, I too am a responsible person with my day job. So please go, it's getting late you replied as if it were more natural dam in the region.
Nepomuceno took his bike from the ground and sped off unintentionally turn to see.
walked slowly, as if it were able to shape the time at will. Prisa.Llegó was no longer in the store, Don Braulio was already there, looking like a raging bull. Then the sermon began with the usual "is not possible for someone so young be so useless if I was your age, you demonstrate what is to be responsible." Nepomuceno his eyes down, quietly opened the metal door. He realized that being responsible was a whoring.
Nabor Rachowsky
Friday, November 26, 2010
Age Of Empires 2.0a Requires Cd
Let me choose a book
not tell me these things.
not tell me these things in your ear, here, amid the aisles of the bookstore, let me choose a book, there are those of Bukowski, and that those of José Agustín, stop following me and say no more of those things ear, can not imagine how I feel, every word that comes to my ears was rapidly slipping my sex, electrifying my body is like arriving in a flash to your bed, a single of your words to be flushed into the mine days of you, on you ... those days ... One of your words in my ear and sex becomes damp. Do not tell me these things in your ear, if you go, I swear to God I'll have a wonderful, delirious and delicious orgasm here in front of José Agustín, better get out fast, come take me to a deserted street or park across the street, every time I say those things, I'm dying to hold you between the legs, apúrale walks, going to every corner away from people because your house is to never, and the hotel about two hours, come on, look there, as when we were in the desert in the midst of trees, in view of anyone who will or any I would like to see two lovers on the ultimate expression of love, desire, craving, lust, how it is that it takes every minute, because the absence will be long and perhaps endless.
Yes .... Keep talking your ear.
Zavaleta Adriana C.
not tell me these things in your ear, here, amid the aisles of the bookstore, let me choose a book, there are those of Bukowski, and that those of José Agustín, stop following me and say no more of those things ear, can not imagine how I feel, every word that comes to my ears was rapidly slipping my sex, electrifying my body is like arriving in a flash to your bed, a single of your words to be flushed into the mine days of you, on you ... those days ... One of your words in my ear and sex becomes damp. Do not tell me these things in your ear, if you go, I swear to God I'll have a wonderful, delirious and delicious orgasm here in front of José Agustín, better get out fast, come take me to a deserted street or park across the street, every time I say those things, I'm dying to hold you between the legs, apúrale walks, going to every corner away from people because your house is to never, and the hotel about two hours, come on, look there, as when we were in the desert in the midst of trees, in view of anyone who will or any I would like to see two lovers on the ultimate expression of love, desire, craving, lust, how it is that it takes every minute, because the absence will be long and perhaps endless.
Yes .... Keep talking your ear.
Zavaleta Adriana C.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Hat Mukus Eine Auswirkung Auf Ein Fetus
Bad idea
I think I learned to write only to tell the story of my life. Those that enjoyed early years of my life, and that any family situation might miss if I went out to wander with friends basked me playing until late at night. I was never strongly repressed by street walk, my mother just showed that I was going to go very wrong if he continued down that path. I once threatened to send me to boarding school, but never fulfilled. Much earlier, could giving me with some of his wealthy family, but did not, decided to stay with her last child at the expense of the little money my father earned.
I think I learned to write only to tell the story of my life. Those that enjoyed early years of my life, and that any family situation might miss if I went out to wander with friends basked me playing until late at night. I was never strongly repressed by street walk, my mother just showed that I was going to go very wrong if he continued down that path. I once threatened to send me to boarding school, but never fulfilled. Much earlier, could giving me with some of his wealthy family, but did not, decided to stay with her last child at the expense of the little money my father earned.
When I was six years my mother had a relapse of their disease ancient product, for which had to be hospitalized for more than fifteen days in a hospital in the city, I do not remember if it was a product of his convalescence infection, or some other virus did he do that was a couple of weeks in San Jose hospital.
that time my brothers took care of me, but brat child is unconcerned that even went to elementary school. I went out every afternoon after school to play with my friends, and wandered out of our territory. We knew kids from other colonies and played football with them. My father saw me in the street when he came home from work and wondered if he had eaten, and having an affirmative answer, he went to his room and do not know things, and talked long hours with my brothers on my sick mother.
One time I said, if you like so much walking on the street, I'll buy a box of bolero, and you get to work. I did not believe him and continued on my roll, but days later brought a wooden box even without the tools to clean the shoes. He told me that soon I would bring everything needed to start my first job. So I took the plunge and got what serves for that office: the average cut brushes, bottles for liquid soap, which I made a hole in the screw cap, brushes, dusters and frayed trousers of my sisters. Two or three times a week I went downtown with professional learning boleros that task that my father beat me. Then came the paintings. Here's your box, now, earn money. Said.
started by the family's shoes. My friends laughed of my position that they did not do anything and put it spent playing stickball. I invited them to help me, saying how important it was to work, but I accompanied a while and leave. My best friend helped me with the task of polishing, but not before inviting you to promise something when I paid. As the family's shoes were few, I went out.
My mother took one week in hospital and my brother told me that it would soon also argued that if I worked the following week could get fifty dollars to buy flowers. By then the boleada cost four pesos or less, and if you wanted to, had to compromise. Then clean stinky shoes of my neighbors until I was once a pile of old shoes that they wanted to remain as new: shoes, tennis shoes and sandals low. Everything had to be polished. That bag of shoes would pay me sixty dollars, and that to me was a lot of money. Then I started. Had in mind the bouquet of flowers for my sick mother.
I did and finished the job successfully, but having the money from my efforts, and to see my paint-stained hands, no longer wanted to buy flowers, I wanted gastármelo. Think about buying a flower adorned only ten dollars, and for me, a ball. Addition I did not know if my mother liked. My brother told me that all women like flowers and more to my mother that I would learn to appreciate like no other. So I did. When my mother arrived in the ambulance social insurance, expected to come home and gave her the bouquet of flowers with all my affection. My mother made them much attention and gratitude showed me weak, although in his eyes I saw something more than I expected. There I understood too much about it. The flowers were placed in a vase and dried ten days. Looked at every day when I went to school, when he returned, when he walked around the room, when I went to the bathroom, when I asked for coffee. Also the place changed when we ate, and who were at the table on a plastic tablecloth. My mother was sick and gave him a taste flowers inside, he knew. Days later thanked me telling my father that I give a fuck to go to street. The boleada once I left my father found me in the center of town shining the boots of one of his enemies. I guess he got mad, as I said, I do not want to walk in the street boleando shoes, what you want there, I will give it. Never got a weight on his part.
Raul Picard
that time my brothers took care of me, but brat child is unconcerned that even went to elementary school. I went out every afternoon after school to play with my friends, and wandered out of our territory. We knew kids from other colonies and played football with them. My father saw me in the street when he came home from work and wondered if he had eaten, and having an affirmative answer, he went to his room and do not know things, and talked long hours with my brothers on my sick mother.
One time I said, if you like so much walking on the street, I'll buy a box of bolero, and you get to work. I did not believe him and continued on my roll, but days later brought a wooden box even without the tools to clean the shoes. He told me that soon I would bring everything needed to start my first job. So I took the plunge and got what serves for that office: the average cut brushes, bottles for liquid soap, which I made a hole in the screw cap, brushes, dusters and frayed trousers of my sisters. Two or three times a week I went downtown with professional learning boleros that task that my father beat me. Then came the paintings. Here's your box, now, earn money. Said.
started by the family's shoes. My friends laughed of my position that they did not do anything and put it spent playing stickball. I invited them to help me, saying how important it was to work, but I accompanied a while and leave. My best friend helped me with the task of polishing, but not before inviting you to promise something when I paid. As the family's shoes were few, I went out.
My mother took one week in hospital and my brother told me that it would soon also argued that if I worked the following week could get fifty dollars to buy flowers. By then the boleada cost four pesos or less, and if you wanted to, had to compromise. Then clean stinky shoes of my neighbors until I was once a pile of old shoes that they wanted to remain as new: shoes, tennis shoes and sandals low. Everything had to be polished. That bag of shoes would pay me sixty dollars, and that to me was a lot of money. Then I started. Had in mind the bouquet of flowers for my sick mother.
I did and finished the job successfully, but having the money from my efforts, and to see my paint-stained hands, no longer wanted to buy flowers, I wanted gastármelo. Think about buying a flower adorned only ten dollars, and for me, a ball. Addition I did not know if my mother liked. My brother told me that all women like flowers and more to my mother that I would learn to appreciate like no other. So I did. When my mother arrived in the ambulance social insurance, expected to come home and gave her the bouquet of flowers with all my affection. My mother made them much attention and gratitude showed me weak, although in his eyes I saw something more than I expected. There I understood too much about it. The flowers were placed in a vase and dried ten days. Looked at every day when I went to school, when he returned, when he walked around the room, when I went to the bathroom, when I asked for coffee. Also the place changed when we ate, and who were at the table on a plastic tablecloth. My mother was sick and gave him a taste flowers inside, he knew. Days later thanked me telling my father that I give a fuck to go to street. The boleada once I left my father found me in the center of town shining the boots of one of his enemies. I guess he got mad, as I said, I do not want to walk in the street boleando shoes, what you want there, I will give it. Never got a weight on his part.
Raul Picard
Monday, November 22, 2010
Drivers Olivetti Prt 100
Presentation T05 / Mexico DF
The streets, walls and avenues of Mexico City will host the presentation of the number 5 Disposable Backyard Magazine "Urban Crossings" on December 2 at 8 pm in Café Sots - Gallery. We count on your support and assistance. Greetings dear readers.
--------------------------------------------- ------------------
magazine-traspatio.blogspot.com
revistadesechable.traspatio
The streets, walls and avenues of Mexico City will host the presentation of the number 5 Disposable Backyard Magazine "Urban Crossings" on December 2 at 8 pm in Café Sots - Gallery. We count on your support and assistance. Greetings dear readers. --------------------------------------------- ------------------
revistadesechable.traspatio
@ gmail.com 
Best Material To Wear Hiking
winter I learned
I learned to love with caution
the silence that gives the loneliness, smooth
of youthful rage.
I learned to love humbly
as sunset glow
with the latest in light and heat.
I learned to love in moderation without devouring
hearts and bones of others.
I've learned to look in the mirror and not
expect anything from anyone else.
Because I am this,
a shame away without murmur
without regret
without wishing evil. Nabor
Rachowsky 
I learned to love with caution
the silence that gives the loneliness, smooth
of youthful rage.
I learned to love humbly
as sunset glow
with the latest in light and heat.
I learned to love in moderation without devouring
hearts and bones of others.
I've learned to look in the mirror and not
expect anything from anyone else.
Because I am this,
a shame away without murmur
without regret
without wishing evil. Nabor
Rachowsky
Kate Nash Fondations Sheetmusic
If for every drop of semen
I throw
she was here,
things would be different, more real
,
more vivid.
But Onan is a miserable
crying
solo in a room away
.
Take a cloth,
dries tears,
and laughs bitterly. Austerity
love,
this vacuum, the groan
is a pitcher
breaking every moment
droplet
winter.
A sigh,
a torrent
all
has been released. Nabor
Rachowsky
Friday, November 19, 2010
Minimum Thickness For Plastic
1
Isaac Ventura
http://isaacventura-rivero.tumblr.com/
http://marihuas. blogspot.com / 
net Mere I spend eighty percent of spare time thinking about shit literarturizables. As I drive I have the habit of thinking about things that could write and implicating my friends and experiences loquacious of every weekend or every fortnight, or every twenty days or every time we meet. Like the time a friend and I ate hot dogs at a place, then we went and the next day I gave money to that friend was telling him what he owed to the dogs and said he thought he owed me money have paid me for those dogs.
But I also think of other experiences, like I was hit five times by the same woman in different parties the same day. If such a thing is possible. Or like the day I met a porn star amateur vidio which hovered a long time for the cell. Or the day I recorded my first porn scene, I deleted right away so as not to leave evidence that I'm a terrible lover.
Sometimes I think about the unbearable lightness of being, the unfathomable darkness of literature, interpersonal communication ethereal. And all those things that are very simple but apparently in the literature are complicated, like trying to open a can of beans using a nail clipper instead of lifting the eyelash of the quick release. Other times I think to hang out. Today I had one of those days. I thought a series of dreadful ideas to make a post. And I can not think of anything better to come to fill space. Like an emo, a teenager, two, and also mixed with a goth refrigerator.
But I also think of other experiences, like I was hit five times by the same woman in different parties the same day. If such a thing is possible. Or like the day I met a porn star amateur vidio which hovered a long time for the cell. Or the day I recorded my first porn scene, I deleted right away so as not to leave evidence that I'm a terrible lover.
Sometimes I think about the unbearable lightness of being, the unfathomable darkness of literature, interpersonal communication ethereal. And all those things that are very simple but apparently in the literature are complicated, like trying to open a can of beans using a nail clipper instead of lifting the eyelash of the quick release. Other times I think to hang out. Today I had one of those days. I thought a series of dreadful ideas to make a post. And I can not think of anything better to come to fill space. Like an emo, a teenager, two, and also mixed with a goth refrigerator.
Isaac Ventura
http://isaacventura-rivero.tumblr.com/
http://marihuas. blogspot.com /
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Jack Astors, Lobster & Crab Dip
Drops New Points
New outlets. Thank you very much to our dealers who We provide a space, we hope to add more and more. Greetings readers.
New outlets. Thank you very much to our dealers who We provide a space, we hope to add more and more. Greetings readers.
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