Animal Eyeshine Chart

Chaos

Yes mom I'll be back / you prepared your meal? / Yes, I'm on the bus now, but there 'is a casino / Excuse / Be careful! / my foot! / hey / young man, let me / get off / fast, we get to this / but look at what kind of hat / a very long neck / salt! / hey!

Chaos.

On the bus-line S-chaos: rush hour, bags spending, students, briefcases, papers and notes, cards slide out of the pockets, the hands, is also hot, sweaty people, rotten people, stink, smell of the sandwiches that a girl is eating-a sports bag at his feet, one hand hanging to handle, suit, apparently coming back from the gym. "

An old man sitting, newspaper in hand, looks around a bit 'annoyed by all this confusion.

A guy jumps on the bus, in a hurry.

insinuates itself between the people-looking-in vain for a place to sit. Dodge a basket full of vegetables, the affliction on the left side beating a backpack filled with books, wandered to the hard-line S-bus, rush hour, realizing that the place is not there. But still hope, still only a hope: that old, there seems to be preparing to go down. "

He runs, pushing a hand to hold the hat-strange hat, a long ribbon that looks like a cord to decorate it, unusual color, material particular, perched atop a head that seems to be moved from the top of an infinite-length neck, the other already stretched to the place, ready to pounce on, sit down, ah, rest.

It stops, turns around, annoyed

Excuse know

man to his right, formal coat, briefcase serious hat on top of a trivially ordered and well-coiffed head firmly on a bull neck.

what he wants

she hit me

please?

she-me-ha-bumped, voluntarily, I would add, and hit me in the side

you're wrong

no, I've seen: I have seen it coming, stepped back with

pretend distracted,

are past me and just stuck an elbow in the ribs!

Look, sir, maybe she is confused

No, my dear! I've just kicked your a fucking

elbow between the ribs.

Listen, friend, give me a reason why should I place on a bus

to carry out attacks in the ribs of kids jostle to find a place, and

No, you listen to "friend" : me hurt, you hurt me

Have at least the good grace to apologize!

But not!

She is a peasant,

I apologize immediately!

Listen: you now shut up, shut your mouth, the tears of a roaring, all right?

Or I'll take your neck tie to the frighteningly long and well at that

Lamp there, right?

The bus slows. The old man gets up slowly, his paper arm, hat-cordless-tweed jacket and heavy-rimmed glasses.

The chaos in the bus stops. Nobody moves or speaks. Silence.

He looks peaceful stung by a splash of fun hidden in the wisdom of the eyes. She watched the exchange of views of the two, a world spassandosela. Perhaps more than the debate made him laugh the boy-a strange hybrid of man and giraffe with a strange hat perched on his head. "

The world is frozen. Immobility.

Silence, more silence than before. The time has stopped. The old man smiles.

is the space between people, with the usual peaceful calm. Now go down, leaning on the door of the bus. You look around-the 'party bus, and on board all wake up, a second and nothing happened, the bus never stopped, chaos, confusion, high voice, all voices speak of a single voice, all noises roar, screaming, calling, phones trill, the chaos-and it will go in search of a park bench-only seeks peace. " Can not find, will move toward home-right through the intersection, turn left and after a hundred meters is there-and will stay in the living room sofa in her, or perhaps on the terrace-quarter floor without a lift, but now the habit has stood the old, worn out joints are not afraid of the stairs, a small but lovely terrace, green watering can next to the door, a five pots with plants and flowers to decorate the corners, wicker chair holiday home / cushion white reigns in the middle of the balcony. "

falls, free place.

soon thawed by the time the young leave the discussion without adding another word and you run down, leaving the man told him-that screaming, actually, but it's okay -, forgetting the discussion, and after a moment he sat, finally sat down and save dall'energumeno that threatened to wring his neck.

rested his head on the window and puts the iPod headphones. Tiredness.

been two hours. The old man returns from the park, walking home, the usual calm yet to wrap, to accompany a couple of hours at the park. The paper is folded under his arm, for the crumpled impetus with which his reader turning the pages, and imbufalito angry politicians and a world that does not turn as he says.

Cross the road and sees to smear the young-un boy-almost always a long neck, his hat always staggering. It is with a friend, especially himself, a silk scarf around his neck-psychedelic-decorated jacket, pink and bottle green trousers that go to hide the leg of shiny riding boots. Bareheaded. Neck normal.

But yes, you have to connect it better, look at 'what a mess ...

But where?

But look!

But what?

But the button, you fool!

But why?

E 'wrong, man! You straighten it, watch it,

so - ah, my friend. You and fashion does not have anything to do.

**********

This post was created for a task assigned to the French school. My class is participating in a competition organized by the Alliance Française Australie where you have to write a text like "prolongement [of" Exercises in Style ] à la manière de Raymond Queneau. "My year is-this would be a" chaos "- then I had to translate into French, but the first not to understand no reading I have translated, so the site.

Here, the note was just to say that I have not copied from someone if not myself, since there is half of the competition and so on.

In any case, this seems to me an interesting competition, hence the site of the Alliance Francaise http://www.alliancefr.it

and somewhere also speak of the competition.

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Food Love My

One day, in the middle of a long shopping trip with subsequent complaints about sizes, measurements, stomach, adhesions, narrowness, hips, thighs, front and rear overhangs and endless promises to put on a diet, a friend pushed to the limits of exasperation he suggested a technique to not give in to the delicious temptations that food gives me languidly and to whom I am constantly yield.
The secret, he said, was to relax for each stimulus of hunger, and in 'vividly imagine the food of desire. A chocolate bar, for example, square and perfect, smooth, sweet and delicious, fragrant and irresistible. Well imagine, then, and think while to satisfy my desire to grab her, ready to eat it slowly picture after picture, saziandomi of sweetness and warmth, wrapped in being intimate and relaxing atmosphere that only break a diet secretly nestled on the couch can be expressed with dignity.
The trick then was to convince me that the first bite to the flavor of much desired grace was something disgustingly unbearable, scarecrow some of the table, something encouraging to vomiting, to say - "What a disgusting, absolutely disgusting that you can not suck to bear? "" liver "" Well, then imagine liver "-. In this way the brain is convinced that the taste of chocolate is really disgusting that the liver, so the urge passes.
Since that day I tried, tried, tried, and I proudly express satisfaction have achieved a result. Unfortunately, however, should be added that as a result is not 'exactly what I had to get after so much exercise and mental and physical commitment.
Now I love the liver.

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Sasso Sasso

"To be honest, that stone was not really that great. It was a piece of stone whatsoever. He lived his normal life as a rock, sometimes ended up in a puddle, or happened to be sunk underground, or was thrown by some idiot boy. He was a plain stone: smooth, without cracks, but not without bumps, but not perfect.
was also somewhat boring, though I must add, and I would also make it known that ... "
Sasso, shut up. We said we're special?
"... Yes"
Bravo, then submit to our blandishments, shut your mouth you put your mind at rest, give us the Stalinist communist, is' what you want, but do not dare to open my mouth to praise nuovo.Lasciati, Be less hard - ok not the most appropriate word for a stone - with yourself. There
tell us now.

Said, the stone is special.
Look at him, not really known anything special.
E 'well-built from the inside, solid all the way, without imperfections, firm and concrete as a small roccafotrte.
But a common stone, beneath this superficial analysis, like many a rock his companions stones of this stony world.
If anyone remembers, but in a story, a fox said to the little prince that is essential is invisible to the eye. Who in this world is never going to see a thought? Who has ever been able to grasp, if only briefly, the infamous bubble coming out of the brain with the thought drawn in?
None.
But how many of us have been able to guess a person's feelings based on what was inside, hidden from our eyes?
With our rock history is just that: unsuspected and unseen, he went out continuously thoughts, observations, thoughts silent, invisible to the eye was quantopiù possible. Our stone
thought. - "And you'll see" / stone silent. / -
acorto He had stupidly, in a somewhat awkward moment, when a boy picked it up off the ground to throw it against a window. It was at that time when Saso lived in the city - and it was good old-il'68. Students took to the streets to demonstrate, and that very day - September 24, 1968 - A group walked through the streets to the rhythm of songs and waving flags. A silly-boy-rebel taken by the force, had gathered Sasso, and dribbled a few minutes after, he was preparing to throw it.


End .... For now

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While I'm here Down Under, I keep a wild match with my grandmother. More or less every day I get a letter from him, and between a hug and wrote a chronicle of Lanzano, started a game for betting. The grandmother has begun ...

I found a stone as big as two fists, ground water that has insisted on certain points longer and therefore has a recess. It is a stone like the others: it has a life, and it shows.

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Geese II (Part II)

After the accident, the surviving goose never recovered. He was alone, and could not understand, his shadow, his friend, his companion, comrade, brother, was gone, and now he wandered aimlessly around the garden, fluttering and then, frightened at not hearing any echo or response, silent and locked in a silent desolation. He began to spend hours staring at the gate, against scagliandoglisi with tumultuous fury at his every move. Why he did is a mystery whose answer is not given to know. He became
death on two webbed feet, dangling helpless and depressed and without purpose, except to destroy everything that crosses its path-course human members of the family were included in what was disturbing his peace-tormented.
To try to raise the morale and prevent committed suicide by throwing himself into swimming pool too, my bought him a new companion: a 'yellow and fluffy goose other cheered the garden with its bobbing cheeps and lopsided.
In the days that followed the arrival, small palm was escorted everywhere by a biped with opposable thumbs and shepherd's crook. It was too much fear that the winged terminator decides to perform an act and destroy the little murderer without a trace, so in turn follows the young duck in his explorations in the garden, ready to defend it vigorously and impose psychopath between him and the duck to rescue him -and believe me, to come between that kind of meat grinder with its beak and its prey is demonstrating tremendous courage. "
But our fears were unfounded: he, surrounded by the fog of his despair, even took care not to smear, simply stared straight ahead, careful only to the gate that did not-always-suspicious movements. The only time showed minimal interest in the newcomer when he was savagely pecked on the head, cutting into the root of any attempt to approach.
And in this sad the duck showed some idiotic masochism as well as skiing, because after two days had not yet figured out that if one dared to touch the baby, he would have immediately received a blow to the caretaker on duty. But you know, the geese are geese, we can do.
After a short time, however, the situation changed: the two-legged and feathered policeman feared by every gate in the garden decided to take his young successor as such, allowing them to approach and get caught under his wing without risking being cruelly murdered. Walk with him, telling him of the pitfalls of life and discussing questions of the universe, while the young palms behind the trotting to keep up. They are called Socrates and Plato.

One day not too long after the arrival of his followers, Socrates died poisoned-and-everything back, and the young Plato was left alone. To avoid depression at such a tender age, my hastily brought home fourth chick. Male
too, as we later discovered. We made amplein: four out of four males Ochi, and despite the names, stupid in the depths of the marrow. Never seen anything like that.
However, the small-Aristotle once called, just to continue the series, had arrived and was quickly set with his new friend. Both were still at an early bipedal and yellow feathers age and, of course, needed a mother figure or father to guide them in the right way. They seemed a bit 'scattered and lost as the night crouched near one another-they are feeling safe-deleritti and abandoned in a land inhabited by ghosts.
But it seems that my mom at that time had begun to make him "Pio Pio." Literally.
I mean, every time he left the house and my mom, holy woman, leaves home with a frequency of twice per hour for the childhood-scarrozza and drove along the avenue in the garden, sticking its head out the window and with a piercing falsetto launched the friendly reminder. Pio Pio, pious and devout and pious with the pious, the birds, happy to finally hear from someone affectionately called, became convinced that this was toward the mother.
The point is that it began to follow my mother. Maybe.
began to follow the car of my mother, from whom the mother was leaning to launch joyful cries, the similarity between a Toyota and a goose of the Capitol, I must say, still eludes me, but the obscure mechanisms that regulate the intricate mind of the geese are something that are not at all familiar, and therefore do not pretend to be able to understand. However, the kind that calls my mom sent to her protected with wings allaToyota earned the enduring devotion of the two.

The scene repeats itself still an infinite number of times a day-as many as the times when my mom leaves the house, and is as follows:
as the two birds feel some vibration of the ground which could make him understand that there is a thing with wheels on approach, they stop and turn the long necks toward the gate. Ahead.
If the car is coming from the garden, they just scamper meeting before the gate opens and the swallow-gate-usually wins, and then leave them too, a bit 'helpless to see that the car runs very fast , to resign and, if the gate is already closed, sitting dutifully waiting for the mother.
If the car is coming, however, the whole becomes more dramatic: after being detained, they recognize it immediately, even without seeing it. As soon as the gate began to slowly open and the nose of the car is seen, the two birds entering the fibrillation and run with open wings, accompanying the race by a festive cackling with pleasure, to welcome her mother back.
And this they do even if they are on the opposite side of the garden. Generally it is better that they are very far, because if they are already close, comfortable, cozy place above the car, ready to keep her company and leave without preventing it from hanging out.
ride to the gate, however, is point number one. Point number two is that of accompanying her mother at home, keeping their heels, they begin the race at breakneck speed, always open wings that allow him stand out sometimes in-flight low-however, voices with volume at most. And my mom driving, resigned and almost regretted it. Trying to repair the damage, no more peeping through the window, but everything is useless now, the two birds constantly and devotedly follow the car with their headlong rush to the parking lot, where three-point, as noted above, the mother-company to do it lay around met, pecking on all sides to show their affection.
They also started the operation to lift nice-sticking its beak at one end and pulling with all their strength can obstinacy-a rubber finish which I think would serve to cushion the slamming of the trunk. Thanks to this their private jobs, now our car also has the tail.
Of course, while surrounded by affection their four-wheel-bearer, also surround the home of abundant scacazzamenti.

Now our Plato and Aristotle are in good physical health, at least, because on the mental-there are some doubts, but are white-bellied and in good shape thanks to the efforts Olympic make every day, to love their mother and madness Unfortunately, I'm already too old to be put in the oven.

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Oche (part I)

Also in the series "My family and other animals," although it would be more to say "animals and my family," the geese are Gina and Pina.
They landed in the gardens about three years ago, or four, for his birthday my mom. I'd feel guilty if you did not add that it all starts with my own joke. If I had kept the mouth shut, at this point we would not have these problems. However, you can not change the past, when my dad, unsure of gifts to buy, I asked an opinion, I said, given the passion of my mother for everything about the funny two-legged white and swaying, "but we take two geese. " I told a joke, though.
My dad had taken him seriously, so the evening ran closer to the breeding house, bought two yellow chicks in the garage and locked them inside a wooden box because the scacazzassero his valuable Moto Guzzi. The next morning, wake up early to sneak back to the birds, respectively primping with a red ribbon and a rose and take them on the porch, still in their mailbox. At
squawking unknown, my mother looked out the balcony and saw two chicks begging for battered yellow and maternal love. The melted my heart.
The beginnings were idyllic: it was summer, and the little trotting behind us every time one of us came out in the garden, and chirped because we stop to wait. They were so funny, while trudging through the grass always too high for them, and keeps them proud as we affectionately pecked fingers when held out of the blades of grass eat. Unfortunately
soon came adolescence, and this is also presented to mental illness that had never occurred before. Meanwhile, they were no longer the sweet and soft feathery chicks, but two ocotti half-cut, plucked, and the whitish outline of the feathers, which rattled the wings too small for running the garden. It was a sadly comical sight to see the efforts of the two feathers to take off in flight, and we expect that the change is complete for the last two white birds that my mother dreamed of.
One day, when the suit was not yet complete, my brother had brought the two geese to take a stroll through the garden. Sat down and began to extend the usual grass the birds, when suddenly one of the two wide the wings and set a human with empty eyes and menacing, he rushed against the beak in the middle of the forehead. And this was the beginning.
Another afternoon, after lunch as we passed an outdoor camping out at the table still laid, two dogs came to our ever-them-so, who began to fight to get a little brotherly 'notice. Immediately, one of the two geese that were militating around the table to check that order reigns and masterfully played the role of policeman, rushed to separate the two litigants, and gotten plenty on the head and hips. I have never seen my dogs run away with one click so fast, and yes I spent two years in vedermeli escape from under the nose.
Since that day, the dogs were shot and well off with his tail between his legs, looking right down 'approach to the pair of feathered policemen who patrolled night and day in the garden. When the so-called man's best friend went off to become experts in pet-Therapie, I'm sure that the two birds felt inordinately pleased in having removed from the scene of two competitors to the control of the garden.
At the same time, began to become clear that the two were not webbed and Gina Pina as we had hoped so, but Jim and Nancy. No goose eggs, and then, and nothing new pulcinotti cheerfully chirping to animate the garden.

With the arrival of autumn, the beginning of the school and return to everyday life, the geese-er, the Ochi-began to spend much time alone. We no longer had the ability to follow and accompany them on long walks outdoors, and they slowly forgot about us and we removed out of their small brain. Our faces mean nothing to them, although we saw every day, which meant the rupture of the report: identify us as strangers, and as such we would go away.
But this is what I would think a normal goose. Ours, with their delusions of omnipotence, they thought that as we went outside permanently deleted, and we aim to continue their pointed wings and neck stretched wide open, fluttering in a little friendly whenever we dared set foot in their area of \u200b\u200bexpertise. That meant every time you put your nose out of the house, because the two pens were bizarrely convinced to be master of the universe.
Unfortunately there was never any way to recognize us as friends again, and despite following the arrival of spring and our presence more and more assiduous in the garden, the two continues with impunity and to point us to do those races at the Olympics if the dream .
had become a problem just open the gate of their fence: as soon as the lock snapped, the two rushed against the door, forcing him to withdraw duties but little ladies accompanied by howls and screams of terror echoing.
To give us an attitude and groped to escape the sad fate of being subdued by a couple of ducks, geese - we started wandering around the garden equipped with a stick.
I'm not kidding. Try to make you stick a pair of geese-let me continue to emphasize this, because I would totally put into focus the question: Are we talking about geese. Quack-Quack. Webbed feet and tail wagging in rhythm with the rocking gait. I do not mean Rottweiler or kicking of zebras. Those who had taken power in our garden were two geese geese .- Assatanate, I said, and then see who laughs. The situation had become dangerous: they could no longer leave the house without feeling the fierce hissing behind. At that point we fell, we reinforced the door behind her and after-appropriate rites of encouragement in the mirror and flexed their muscles, they just came out with guns.
Unfortunately, following the arrival of winter, saw a tragedy.
While we were away from home-all in the days of the blackbird, a dog that is not cold-imagined, the two geese had managed to escape from the fence, and preparing plans to attack the machines once we went home, had given walks to the plot.
One day she strolls ended, one of two gay friends ventured into the pool, then frozen, and perhaps after strenuous struggles to get out, perhaps abandoning languidly in the cold, drowned.
Maybe it was suicide, because it is the first case of goose drowned in I hear.
When we returned, we found the grisly spectacle to goose wings outstretched neck and drowned, while his companion was waiting poolside, squawking and calling him to come out and stopped the joke, because that was starting to worry. It was a scene of an infinite sadness.

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Dogs

That our house does not rotate as normal animals, now you know.
He started fifteen years ago with the cats, each named after a dish-where he had never heard of a cat named soup? - And then have the fish cannibals and then the dogs, with private ambition to weed out the chicken houses of neighbors and finished in exasperation to a center of ex-drug addicts. Then came the birds: pigeons abusers of the public peace, geese convinced to dominate the world and finally the chickens from the attic. We pass

cats, which can also be defined as normal if you fly over and strange attitudes such as sleep balanced on the head of a statue of Aboriginal or on the armrest of a bench, appear on the balconies of the windows at heights course reckless-appear from the outside and receiving all-self-esteem that exceeds safe levels. But then they are cats. Cats are the nature of narcissi. Let us now
dogs, however, the two animals were a happy pair of adopted siblings at a young age after months and months of exhaustion, "Dad, we want a dog." To emphasize the "dad". The mother, who feels certain things if, had his doubts about it. However, in the end we'll win. And bring them home.
One of them was relatively normal. As a puppy, I mean. Before coming to our house.
was a normal puppy, one of many brothers, happy look stupid but sweet, reckless gaiety, chewy and round belly, in short, the bliss of being dog.
The other, alas, it was strange from the beginning, and all the adoptive families had noticed, ruling out thoroughly. It was in fact left the last of the litter, only in the fence.
My dad-and here we could choose an epithet that would not be very welcome, but comparing with the parent of a sea-folpo was touched to see him, that poor puppy all alone and rejected by the world, and so had decided to also take him.
gives notice that when you buy the dog, take a couple of males is, say, excessively irresponsible on the part of buyers, as the four-legged wolf-awaken the origins and create flock to him, which of course humans are not included. This leads to various manifestations of independence and rebellion, which usually end with the defeat of one of the schools. Those two evil cowards had decided that we would take the defeat of exhaustion, and they began from an early age under the net to dig the garden to escape to freedom. This corresponded with the surrounding corn fields. Thousands of square feet-hundreds-of thousands of fields of corn. What
in the fall, yet again, not a forest. Are sheared and the fields smozziconi continue to be covered by the stem, medium height thirty centimeters. In summer, however, these plants take on a somewhat annoying as that rise in height up to two meters abundant, thus forming a sort of blanket-green once our garden in summer, was called "a forest in the middle of a forest "- through which you see but even if you have x-rays instead of glasses.
Here, our adorable dogs enjoyed a nice run around between the ears, leaving at various times with the palm of your nose. It was annoying to hear the tantrums of my dad every time we fools we miss the dogs, who enjoy escaping from everywhere, but fortunately once while the gate ajar he signed a receipt to the postman, the two bastards-that-were bastards so much about the wriggling between her knees to give himself the cheerful country race day. Since then, word was never spoken about to miss the accursed from under the nose. Some days they were uttered, however, when the beloved and faithful four-legged companions massacred in two chicken houses, raid and be fun to do then to find the factors, smiling and exhausted after a night of madness. Surrounded by dead or dying birds. Usually held in the mouth a crow's foot, so as not to understand that they had been horribly to massacre all the poor fowl. Often the raids
our loved ones, joined a Botolo neighbors, a Maltese-size 40x20 and the hair shaved to zero. Maltese said the dwarf was fiercely in love with that dog-crazy-crazy really ours. They were a charming couple, actually. The trio, on balance, if he drew badly, and my mother had become resigned to be told, when in the midst of desperate asking passersby if they had seen two dogs on the run, "two no, ma'am, but it's white dogs We saw three. They went that way.. " After a couple of years
grueling pace of a couple of escaped a day, by chance, and I would add for pure ass, we learned of the existence of pet therapy in rehabilitation facilities for toxic or physically handicapped. Saying that stood up to my ears is superfluous. Within a week they had found contact with a character in one of these communities, washed and scented dogs and brought them into the mountains to a meeting to see if they fit the assignment. I think my mom has asked all the saints pregabili to ensure that the two monsters were accepted and she was freed of that burden that ruins the life of two years in that part. The two-
stinking and for this I would say that the fervent faith awakened in my mother during that week led to immediate results and concrete-were immediately accepted.
stinking because they behaved impeccably, walking tranquil pace of the owners, almost slipping off, and showing even timid and deferential in the face of the senior center.
So it was so, after two years of cohabitation, that our dogs escaped in a trend-gay-found themselves in a treatment center for drug addicts.
Now that they no longer live with us seem to be quite calm them both.

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Grammatically, I love you.

"I love you."
Five letters: three vowels, two consonants and then the space that must be considered, otherwise you offend and disappears, leaving the other two words stick / "Tiamo" / merged into a single word that encompasses the meaning of the other two.

"I love you," I love you ',' Je t'aime. "
Three ways to say it, the same feeling you get to hear it.

"I love you." I
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three parts, consists of three parts as the phrase, without much analysis: word, space, word.
subject, complement, verb.
I, you, love.
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Advise For Sore Muscles After Snowboarding

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