Invader Zim Sheet Set

Clowns!

I February 17 is the effect that the order of mob lowered to 70 kmh speed limit on the bypasses of Milan. The brilliant idea was the province's response to air pollution, from the series: I do not know what steps to take, but in the meantime we lower the speed limit, who knows maybe it works.

It is not known scientific basis on which it bases its decision, but it is clear the matrix management of deep ignorance and inability of our rulers.

This is a class of directors that would not be able to administer a building of 4 apartments, which planners would not be able to plan a piss in a motorway service station with a frequency of 10 miles and have it end up below.

The problem is that their incompetent decisions affecting the lives of millions of people. Years ago some lunatic had lowered the speed limit on highways in Milan to 90 mph. I do not remember what was the goal: reduce pollution, lower mortality rates, prevent flooding in Bangladesh or other.

The nature of this ring road is such that, when not blocked (in which case the average speed drops to 20-30 kph), its speed "physiological" is 90-110 kmh. In this speed range is quite safe and business travelers. Any gait different (lower or higher) is a potential danger. No need to be scientists, just have some year license and are things that are obvious.

now been nine days after the entry into force of the Provincial and just go 10 or 20 km of highway to see that nothing has changed. Most of the vehicles traveling between 90 and 110 when you can travel and instead all stop when the ring is locked. According to the pundits of the province it should be an optimal situation: traveling at an average of 20 who knows what will reduce the pollution.

users of the road, completely ignoring DUMB legislators, continue to travel at the usual speed until the road is free. The absence of working detectors has certainly had its weight, when the fines began flocking to wonder what would happen. Meanwhile, in the last days I did not see police or speed cameras around or working.

E 'likely that, after the usual 15 days of controversy and heated criticism, everything returns to normal Italian.

That means that crap legislate and DUMB how can people arranging.

Meanwhile, on March 17 we celebrate the 150th anniversary of the unification of Italy instead of a day of shame for how this bunch of clowns has reduced the country.

Sla Battery Charger Circuit Diagram

me that I was promised two years of blog

ra And already quite a lot 'of time I turned my head to feel like a custom.

The symptoms had blown a couple of years, I had also declared here on the blog. But it was much to my disappointment with the current bike, far from it.

The FJR1300 is faithful already the second of its kind that I have and I can not ask for more at half that got away on dirt roads in Tunisia as the Nürburgring Nordschleife.

A bike angry and pasted the road, safe braking and a tailored driving position for me, allowing me to do taken from 800-1000 miles a day and many rifarne the next day.

So why a custom?

Braking poor, one third of the horses in front of the same weight the FJR1300, driving position in the long run you tired limits maneuverability in sharp turns and so on and so forth.
For me, the custom is a kind of "antimoto, a combine gleaming traveling at 80-100 kmh on the state and has no competitive aspirations.

E 'complete relaxation, laziness of not change gears, braking and not braking late reasoned, the curve instead of the broad brush strokes and sudden change of direction.

Instead of the 4-cylinder that fires raging horses up to the red zone, the custom bike is that the revolution has not even there ...

welcomes you with the contrast between the black paint and its bright chrome, with spoked wheels and handlebars widely, we shook with the vibrations (not excessive for the truth) of his classic V-Twin and gets you around in the air on the face without awakening in you the competitive instinct, that makes you go faster than 10 km cornering and braking later than 5 meters.

There is a right time for that, I certainly did not intend to give it up, but with a custom I wanted to give me something different but I like the same.

of you would never wanted to order two desserts instead of one? Why having to choose between the profiteroles and tiramisu?

No one will want me if this time I ordered two desserts. Very different but I like the same way.

Yesterday I took the Kawasaki VN900 and I've done over a hundred miles. I have really enjoyed them and make them a lot more than just the weather improves.

There is a saying in Italian American who does not rhyme, but it says something like this: the difference between men and boys is the price of their toys.

Cheaters K Movie Movie Online

... the first episode (in redigitized and remastered version!)


I just found this on my desk, crumpled paper and handwriting. I do not know who has left me. Someone from the office, I guess. Or a head of that desk, perhaps, wanted to deliver a personal message along with the usual cloth daily. Normal routine. Every day, arriving at my desk, the first thing I do is check the paper on which is outlined the program of the day, with the breakdown of pages and individual tasks. I just have a quick look to see how it will be my working day: sometimes it happens that the menu does not convince me, in other cases, I feel more inspired. Ups and downs, this work is done well. You can move from a feeling of omnipotence and creative play to the risk of a gap that leads directly to depression. It depends on what type of matter is in a position to shape.
But this rag is something different. This is not the possible provision of a leader. Has nothing to do with the daily work. From what I read, is something different.
's a story objectively incredible.
would be the message of a desperate man, a colleague who belongs to an unspecified sports editor.
Here? In my own newspaper? Step mentally reviewed the components of the sport. I can hardly remember them all, because they represent for me a world away. Their office, in Indeed, it is adjacent to the open space where I work. We must go through a long corridor and turn to the coffee machine in the direction of marketing, to get there. There will be a two or three times last year, and only to pick up - in fact - a coffee along with some of my colleagues in the news.
Indeed, now that I think I have to confess that there was a period in which they passed there before with a frequency of record ... It 'been a few months ago, when the marketing department was pretty clearly a computer consultant, called for the application of a specific software update is automatically made famous by writing a little, indeed, great particular: Yes, well, a fourth abundant, perhaps a fifth, with ostentatious nonchalance under tight-fitting blouses and sbottonatissime. Fateful day when it was replaced by a stern and bearded professional.
I digress. So, back to colleagues in the sports pages. Let's see, the young head - so they say - 'Paraculo; his deputy much older and frustrated, the game of football fans who live alone, the original charge to other sports at all costs. I do not think of any other identikit. But anyone
this hypothetical journalist, author of the letter that I have at hand, says - ahilui - to be segregated in a small room right now inaccessible at all. Except for the ruling administration that every night, apparently before returning home, he sticks out a bit 'of food taken from the machine. There is also a detailed list: sticky buns, sandwiches nauseating, a can of bitter orange ...
caring, after all, the jailer. Forces him to this unusual prison - says his colleague - for purely budgetary reasons. Exactly. In the company had decided to make a clean break under "costs" by eliminating the root problem.
Or at least that's the idea that became the colleague of the whole situation. Explains that he had prestigious positions, followed countless football matches throughout the world. It 'went up and down many aircraft, drove for miles and miles under the sun, rain and snow. A ubiquitous life. From hotel to hotel, from stage to stage, to live wherever there was an event (sports) live. Always with a dynamic exciting. And now it's locked up - he says - in a corner of the drawing, without windows, without connections, without goals to be achieved. Do not know why we have come to this paradoxical situation. Believed to be estimated in the newsroom as a reliable professional, skilled at writing and news gathering. They deleted. I read his sad appeal handwritten in pencil on this paper and I do not know what to do. There are no references, it lacks a name, claim. This is probably a joke.
But if in doubt, follow his instructions. He asks me to put his story on the network, to open a blog in his name with an unusual title - The left in the closet - and update it with messages that will let me have his sake from here on out.
I am a bit 'confused. Okay, for someone who belongs to the last of the generations not yet digitized, I manage enough with the Internet and, in general, with those who never stop calling 'new' technologies. But other than that, I wonder by what criteria the unknown sender has chosen me for starting a tragicomic correspondence from his mysterious home.
really do not think I know him.
Moreover, I have few friends here. Actually I have few friends in general, because I have not understood - already at my ripe old age - what are the key factors to define friendship. Boh. Here in my life is well defined, however. Held for years, with discretion and spontaneous devotion, my peaceful activities in this newspaper that in practice I was born and then grow, journalistically speaking. I have my position now, and i deserved it. In a few years I'm going to enjoy retirement, early. Mess, mess and still ranks. Before it was another world. When I started, I carried in my typewritten pages Printing that there were placed together with letters of lead. Today everything has become immaterial, and is virtually here, in the PC that I keep myself from morning to evening on the front, with those reflected in such reclaiming me late. And every time I struggle to defuse, as if it was difficult to give up the reality that goes on stage behind the screen. My wife in the evening I do not expect more. When I get home, more or less around midnight, already deeply asleep.
And I'm always still here, including an article to be checked and choose a photo, now what's more intent on the Internet to disseminate the torments of the call, as he would have done the same if only his laptop had been in able of the network. Yet nothing for some time - according to his message - complained to the senior management of the inadequacy of the technological means data supplied to journalists. And now grotesquely pays the consequences. But - and here a little 'softens us - does not give up: he copied by hand an old article and asks us to put it online.
I think that is the chronicle of a game in a European Championship. I have never shared a passion for the national sport, football, but I understand that the link should be a major issue. Between ourselves: Who cares? But if this can help, if you will allow him one day to find the sun, well ', happy to answer your request. Silent and - apparently - unlucky, this is your article just a click away ...

"Basel. Only the other half of the stadium cheers and sings. But it is almost stronger than the silence of the vanquished. Faces faded red cross under makeup, looks lost: Switzerland 2-1 Turkey was defeated and now the elimination of the owners - already beaten the debut from the Czech Republic - is safe. Meaningful output from the stage coach Kuhn, small hands in his pocket, bent over his problems. Terim instead jumps like crazy along with the Turkish team. So the next round is absolutely within reach: the next grand final is scheduled in Geneva with the Republic Czech .. Switzerland overwhelmed by a relentless fate. Starting illusion. After half an hour here is the goal. But Yakin does not smile, did not celebrate, slips away by the embrace of his companions. There is no question of having played the other team to have some debt of gratitude. This is about Hakan Yakin, origins, names and features from turkish citizen, national passport and Swiss sports. That is why the expression of the face is pulled. Yakin has just made his goal for Switzerland against his Turkey. It has made the assist Eren Derdiyok, same story. It could only happen in the middle of a violent rainstorm. A storm water on the challenge stormy derby on the strange turkish-Swiss. You throw all inside the cloud of water and leaving them, the three players of Turkish origin who wear the jersey of Switzerland ...».
I stop here.
If anyone have news on this mysterious and forgotten colleague, I will let you know. Otherwise, I look forward to other signals. I admit, I'm slowly fond of his unusual story.

Mera Naam Joker Sim Gerwal

C 'Rider is little to is two years old. Has reminded me just a friend who is more mindful of me in these occasions and for this I am grateful. Thanks Mario, birthdays are important to remember what we were and what we have become.

The blog is almost a joke to mock the tendency of motorcycling and the magazine that it is bad. Only in those glossy pages may appear special service titled "The ideal designer clothing to bleed the brakes" or "How to make sporty driving wearing silk slippers.

not, do not look for them in the back issues: These items do not exist, but they can not be ruled out in future issues.

But the blog soon began to live his life and not as a mere shadow of the official magazine of motonarcisista.

We been made with his third world drivers, the peasants that we voted to represent us, the prostitute from the field that stain to platitudes and cliches that try to throttle each time a motion granted tested by the manufacturer.

Too bad the French Voxan ended up in liquidation a couple of years ago, otherwise i would have our own pennivendoli was able to weave the horrid rave reviews for Sport Tourer, the GTV1200 that the house was designed and thankfully never put into production. We all know too well that look balanced and objectives of the comments on printing Italian motorcycle is like looking for a parliamentary honest.

After all we only have 945 (630 deputies and 315 senators) and, assuming that only 1 in 1000 is a serious person, which is evident among the 55 that we have not yet elected. For their part, the United States (which have 5 times the population of Italy) have 435 deputies and 100 senators and seemed to suffice.

But back to us. In 2009 we invented the term "Italebani," which is the distillate of the many "i" Italic: ignorance, incompetence, unreliability, rudeness, stupidity, irrelevance, irresponsibility and inability to question.

It did not help much, but think that a tiny blog can undermine the product of centuries of malpractice is equivalent to leave the bike disassembled in the garage tomorrow morning hoping that the elves you have it reassembled.

In these two years we have also talked about dogs (my), Third World tyrants and WD40. So we talked about a bit 'all as it should do a blog.

The intention is to continue, free time permitting.

If you were there, we enter the third year without hesitation ...