Sharp Pain Leg Driving

letter to Santa Claus

Caro Babbo Natale,

quest'anno ho pensato che attraverso Internet sarebbe stato molto più veloce recapitarti i miei più vivi saluti e incoraggiamenti per il periodo faticoso che ti vedrà protagonista tra poco più di una decina di giorni. Infatti immagino già i sacchi pieni di letterine vecchio stile di qualche scellerato 90enne (non prendertela male ma i tuoi coetanei sono una spanna sotto di te..) che faranno impazzire i tuoi folletti magici.. Bisogna dire che la tecnologia ha totalmente rivoluzionato le nostre vite...dai piccioni viaggiatori a carta&penna a schermo piatto&tastiera a infrarossi....uao! Sicuramente in questo modo non dovrai più lottare contro i piccioni dissenterosi...

Eh già, con l'era del computer tutto è più pratico e immediato...ma nel cuore di tutti rimane indelebile la figura del wise, good old Santa Claus, who with his faithful reindeer-drawn sleigh dopate excessively goes around the world in one night to deliver presents to children and adults. We give you all great pains to decorate the tree with the decorations as fashion (in the absence of zebra, an elephant, I dressed up as Santa Claus), to give atmosphere to the houses made of Christmas lights and stuffed animals that sing "Jingle Bells "just has a great gimmick to pass there in the area ...

In a strange case of fate are all imbued with a joy almost irritating, all hurrying to buy, buy, buy and spend, spend, spend, as if it required an unwritten law handed down for centuries. The people to the streets, the priests of various churches vie for who gets the most audience, but muffled in various promotions festive phone bills reach peaks nothing short of monstrous (must call the aunt of Honolulu !)...

must be all better, more talented, more beautiful, as if participating in "Miss Italy" or wanted to earn a job as a letter, ereditierina, stupidottina of this or that intercultural program.

But is not that the beauty of Christmas? Forget for a moment and feel all this hypocritical world of Music? You see, dear Santa Claus, looking a bit ' around I learned that it is not so important what triggers in us the excitement, because the information quest'euforia allows us to reach. Between 100 and there will be a positive or not?

- Private School Jewel

Saturday night fever ... or the Saturday Night Fever!

True to the century-old tradition of microbial December, I am forced to starmene the whole day in bed, fitted with down-and-of course hot water bottle. My mother's firm belief is that to bring down a fever of 39 (pauraa!!) To a state very limits of decency (ie: to make sure of not having to be hospitalized with a fever from his horse), it is necessary a healthy sweat. Here I am, therefore, to say the least admitted to temperatures equatorial justified as pure therapeutic purposes.

The experience of nursing my mother (not due to the fact that it has never exercised this profession, to the effect that he had to consolidate in spite of what some familiarity with the health problems that plague me since microbes have decided to create the aforementioned age-old tradition of microbial December, finding in my body strong breeding ground for their raids ).... uh, I said: the experience of nursing my mother at the end it was founded. In fact, in just one night (unfortunately the one on Saturday: even microbes must have been influenced by John Travolta), the fever dropped altogether. Counterparty: the temperature of my body is 36.5 degrees, or have the pressure under the feet (that is, if I try to get out of bed there is a real possibility of fainting), also when I woke up the shirt of my pajamas looked back from a crossing Nile (insignificant effects of the theory of sound sweaty ...).

Now I hope that the microbes are fun enough to use my body as their disco personal because now you have done with me, okay?? Solemnly declare broken the centuries-old tradition of microbial December, at the cost of having to become familiar with the rites voodoo or the like.