My hands are shaking and my soul rears. Is the spring? No. Well, one thing ... But aside, the main reason for my human concern is that today, March 21, 2011, brand new station and reverberant orgiastic year Petrarch's diary will give readers a first highlight information, never better. Then explain why you could never say better, but first I want to leave me a little.
I have not seen the news by any means (although I have not searched a lot, that do not take away the illusion) and private channels for which I have received and immerse me in a swirl of intrigue or newspaper to Deepthroat Wikileaks. Modesty aside. So I uploaded it makes me want to cry that they do not reveal my sources but ... No, I will reveal them if only to add lines as it reaches the last between cries.
As planned, this morning I went to talk to my supervisor for Asked about certain issues that are irrelevant. Has treated me so kindly as ever and, as the gentleman was especially lucid and witty and also the spring day also accompanied the dialogue, I added some irrelevant information in order to maintain the pleasant company. In response to this information irrelevant, my director has stated that this evening was to be held a commemorative event at the Colegio del Patriarca and has phoned to confirm the time and the guests, among whom, as I was confident, would to be the president of the Generalitat and Molt Honorable (for now) Mr. Camps. Paco, for friends.
(I just feel some regional anticlimax but, at this stage premiere, I owe to my readers and not my ego journalistic shaky.)
College goalkeeper cited a dark lord who just met a couple of hours, on the other side of the line. Indeed, the act would be at eight o'clock. Unfortunately, the president could not go because it is suffering from a hernia. The event had gone ahead a week to facilitate the attendance of Mr. Camps but a hernia, who knows if a result of the tour faller Rita's hand and Rajoy, has put paid to the plan. Camps, in short, is herniated and I want the Pulitzer now.
I have not seen the news by any means (although I have not searched a lot, that do not take away the illusion) and private channels for which I have received and immerse me in a swirl of intrigue or newspaper to Deepthroat Wikileaks. Modesty aside. So I uploaded it makes me want to cry that they do not reveal my sources but ... No, I will reveal them if only to add lines as it reaches the last between cries.
As planned, this morning I went to talk to my supervisor for Asked about certain issues that are irrelevant. Has treated me so kindly as ever and, as the gentleman was especially lucid and witty and also the spring day also accompanied the dialogue, I added some irrelevant information in order to maintain the pleasant company. In response to this information irrelevant, my director has stated that this evening was to be held a commemorative event at the Colegio del Patriarca and has phoned to confirm the time and the guests, among whom, as I was confident, would to be the president of the Generalitat and Molt Honorable (for now) Mr. Camps. Paco, for friends.
(I just feel some regional anticlimax but, at this stage premiere, I owe to my readers and not my ego journalistic shaky.)
College goalkeeper cited a dark lord who just met a couple of hours, on the other side of the line. Indeed, the act would be at eight o'clock. Unfortunately, the president could not go because it is suffering from a hernia. The event had gone ahead a week to facilitate the attendance of Mr. Camps but a hernia, who knows if a result of the tour faller Rita's hand and Rajoy, has put paid to the plan. Camps, in short, is herniated and I want the Pulitzer now.
Updated at 20:04 -> Bye Pulitzer.
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