How To Sew Your Own English Saddle Pad

Awakenings Likelihood

starting to get comments on my blog. Some are identified, others go in the dark, without leaving your comment, and others write something anonymously. I have nothing against that, I also write from a strictly anonymous. One of the first comments I receive, in response to my second post ( "I bitch about how my" ), accuses me of lying and of being a man. I reproduce it here:

What lies! I'm sure you're a guy.
What's your first time straight out of a movie from Hollywood.
very pretty hostess who will pick a famous drunk or drugged and when he sees the bills gets screwed. What an imagination
guy! Send any script to Spielberg

I reread the blog post today, after a nap Sunday, and give me realize that indeed, sounds like everything is a lie. Both the tone of my writing, as the narration of some events, they have that too literary point that will undoubtedly most closely related to the world of fiction that what we might expect from the blog of a bitch. Finally, what are you going to do. I understand that the blogosphere is very difficult to verify that in them is counted, and even more so when the perpetrators are hiding behind pseudonyms and write hidden in their burrows. Internet is the largest factory of lies the world's most prolific and less rigorous. Anyone who becomes editor of their own follies. Is sterile attempt to convince any reader of anything so far that you could be a night taxi driver Zaragoza, which is dedicated to writing the life of a whore that he imagine, even a priest could be disappointed, a housewife who is bored, a banker about to retire ... Could forge my story so that the truths that seem to lie, they were replaced by lies that seem true, but I do not want to convince you of anything, nor do I care to believe me or not believe me, and what is worse, I have no talent or imagination for fiction. I have to make do with describing my life, telling my own experience and to reflect on it: If someone you find useful or entertaining my thoughts will be a bonus to the relief that occurs to me telling myself openly, to speak of I can never talk to anyone who is on my side of bitch. Of course, you could talk to my clients, they obviously know I'm a bitch, but rather I sell my body and my time to give up a piece of my soul. I prefer honestly think I'm stupid and I have nothing in the head, rather than the brand of shoes that I buy with their money.

I love writing, I feel good, do it almost to compulsion, but contrary to what this anonymous to accuse me of being a man, I have no romantic imagination, and that I have not done anything since I have 12 years to swallow novels and imagine in them. I've always written journals, and especially poetry, but that is something I am going to fight, because there is nothing that gives me more ashamed that my own poems. Noto

the anonymous user, and on the front lines of the deacon Maurice, who thought I was a "pseudopersonaje", a resistance to believing that there whores who read, write, manage internet, talk about books and give all the twang somewhat pedantic or literary ... I do not know what to say, I do not know many whores, so I do not know how far turned a being unlikely. I guess this is the result of me always thought a novel character, as explained in my previous post. In the end I tell myself and narrate my life or at least the life of my conscience, since this distortion of who tries to sublimate a radical mode of existence through a literary look. It happens to Herr Peter, as you have seen (the link at the end of the previous post), and in some ways, albeit much cooler and less pedantic than mine, happens to another famous ciberputa, Miriam Blasco, coautura of yoputa , which just opened now a "blogonovela" about life in a hostess club . What would whores without literature? What would literature without whores? From the Bible to Truman Capote, everyone needs to put on their pages to a woman who sells sex to tell a good story.

Veins On Breasts Darker At Night

TIP: MORE AND LESS BOOKS TELE

A Don Quixote, as everyone knows (or says he knows) the books of chivalry him to lose head. He read them over and over again until they are believed, and his own folly was to replace the logic, morality and conventions of this world, for those books that had dangerous adventures around every corner, where ogres and giant kidnapped princesses, and men were heroes incorruptible, above the weaknesses of the men present. I copied a passage that I have always loved, in which Don Quixote, lost in the night into a dark forest trembles at every sound, thinking it is the beginning of a dangerous feat and said:

(. ..) I was born, by Heaven, this our iron age to revive in it the gold or the golden as it is called. I am he for whom perils, mighty achievements, and valiant deeds. I am, I say again, who is to revive the Round Table, the Twelve of France and the Nine Worthies, and has forgotten to put the Platirs, the Tablantes, Olivantes and straps, the Phoebuses and Belianises , with the whole herd of famous knights-errant of days gone by, doing this in which I live such exploits, marvels, and feats of arms as shall obscure their brightest deeds more.

Today, there is still one who ends up living in a world distorted by the literary. It happened to me. But it was not fantasy books, of romance and adventure, or products to evade, but books where I thought I would find, by way of revelation, the key to exposing the society and men, those books that stand as towers in the library of a teenager with vagaries intellectuals, who put at our disposal the painful truths about sex, love, god, family, etc ... we always believed we were being hidden so that directs our steps easy way. Diary of a Thief, Journey to the End of the Night, Under the Volcano, The Basement, Philosophy in the Bedroom, The Twilight of the Idols, The Flowers of Evil, A Season in Hell ... how long list of topics. I see in my library and I laugh at myself. Yes, I also read my good dose of books of chivalry, and part of my status as a prostitute I owe a very adolescent approach to some literature in praise of the damned. One could read a book by Nietzsche, Sade and Celine, and already smarter than anyone thought, and each book, it was much heavier burden of intellectual and moral vanity. I felt that after the great ideas that nourish us as children (those that I have enumerated, God, love, family, equality, democracy ...) I had only managed to see through the lies they the others were hiding. Everything was legal, because I thought my hands were already thinking tools with which to build and to dismantle the mechanisms of guilt or desire. All could be reduced unpleasant feeling with reason, why should not he be a whore? Is it really worse than being a secretary, or teacher or librarian, lawyer ...? He always found a thousand reasons why any human activity could be measured in terms of humiliation and indignity with prostitution. Why be indignant about 10 euros an hour when you can be indignant about a lot more money? And the sex they were just Judeo-Christian scruples without logical foundations, of which one was free, to reach total and absolute freedom to dispose of the body without prejudices, without guilt, without more rules than those of the naturelaza, which are the only wise and only asks us to survive. I must confess that I have always been much higher than other women to do what I do, and far above the common run of men by the power that sex gives me about them. I read and I am disgusted, is nothing more than a speech of arrogance. But I think people like me, we have refined to the point of passing any sexual scruples, and be free to have desecrated sacralizations all taboos and sex (the consecration of virginity, the linking of sex to love or anathematizing sodomy), we are again empty, empty ridiculous values, dogmas that constrict our relationship with our own bodies, repressive superstitions that plague us all night for a caress received by a stranger. That vacuum of which I speak, it's all a spiritual conquest, the interior feels like an abyss where everything falls and is lost in the dark, without a trace. Much love as desire. I had to destroy many things within myself to be who I am now, and only now I realize I really did not build a thought to be so, but it was enough to destroy what I had installed inside. So Sorry, as I said Ululatus Sapiens in his commentary, really, people like me empty is perhaps the best position is to re-fill of something, this time for something chosen.

another blogger I am quite impressed that I think has also fallen so damn alluring in the same way that I, only from the opposite sex. Herr calls himself Peter and I linked her blog which is a collection of quixotic chivalry misadventures, but modern. A romantic antihero that celebrates his life john, drinker, a lover of guns and with a nod to the Nazi aesthetic. Worth reading, because the quality of the narrative and descriptions are quite high. One not without the feeling of having been there before, as Herr Peter writes, from the hand of Jean Genet, Celine, or Malcolm Lowry ... I suppose it another hanging from the literature, as I believed it too, until it became a miserable character in the worlds of darkness that we both liked to read, as I am, too. Anything but be a hypocrite. Today

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whores, PHARISEES AND MEN BUENOS

curro no. Odd jobs I did two days ago, but I quickly closed the snack bar because he has been the rule. Other curran with the rule, there are always ways to contain it, but I do not like. I last long, three days, at most four. So no gigs these days and you're done. I do not make bad, I can afford such breaks.

today I had intended to tell my experiences with the priests. No fucking, because I guess if I've ever had a client so I will cure that. What I have had is very rare that a client asked me to dress up in women of Opus Dei. When you're asked to do things that are out of the norm, you can always negotiate the price of labor high, and in this case, the guy was absolutely devoted to his fancy, at this point that already has come in the mind path of desire until there is no turning back. It happens to the wishes as to the aircraft, when they have too acelarado the runway, if not soar, the track and crash just because travel is no longer to brake. This gentleman in question, I just wanted to dress up, had to act like a woman's Opus, and the game was that it perverted me and made me suck it until it ran, while he was a rosary. After run, the guy came running in anguish of shame and I guess also to blame. I left and take the condom, I wore such a hurry which was buttoning his pants and walking out of the scene (the French do not natural, but even with a condom, men say they love me as I suck) . The case is that the type planned well in advance of this scene. First I bought the clothes, I said that is the same as that put her sister, who must be a numerary of Opus. You had to see me with a skirt to the ankles, very thick tights, women's loafers black, dull, long-sleeved blouse tied to the neck and a chain with the image of the virgin who asked me to put that then brought before running off. Best of all, you asked me to comb her hair and her sister, and showed me a picture of her on a date prior to that had the same hair combed, horrible. For this if I did drop it on pasta, because it was a genuine attack on my hair. So much so that day could not get more customers to return to the salon. The type, in that appointment which gave me the script of his fantasy, he asked me how I found out it was the women of Opus, to work well and give the stick, and handed me a book, The Way, the Bishop may Escribá The priest who invented this order, or sect or whatever it is. My client wanted to simulate in a very rigorous kind of rape or sexual abuse to a numerary (I suspect that by his sister, who is the most terrible), and how he was dressed and the way he talks, his wedding ring, his chain the neck, seemed to me that he too could be the Opus. In short, the latter are speculations.

me process the paper led to me doing a little research on the Opus, which is a world that know only a very tangential ... Of course I do not read road. All I need a few pages to realize that reading was a little more rewarding for someone interested in literature than in teaching. Interests me very fond and slight, theology and I brushed some books on the subject in my moments of doubt, the truth, this is not strong naive, simple and full of candor and emotion of a devotee like John Bunyan, nor depth, almost frightening as a Christian thinker Pascal . I seemed like an intellectual and spiritual scam to hooligans of religion. Instead of road, that little can teach us about what you let them, the affectations of speech and taste, and aesthetic inclinations of the most recalcitrant of Opus (because after all, only trying to mimic the surface of a numerary not inside), I searched in the blogosphere, and found some very interesting and very enlightening when it comes to building the character of poor numerary who would be violated. Before crush anyone want to clarify that in my previous life, provinces met people who had some connection with the Opus, but I do not know to what extent. It was always people friendly and kind to me, and therefore do not believe to be the Opus will make anyone better or worse, like I do not think being a lefty or right, Muslim or Hindu, has nothing to do with the stature of a person . People always say you have this or that value, and defending this or that idea, but in reality, his stature can only be checked in the hard times of life, in war, in a disease, financial ruin , in the moments of heroism is required. Everything else are just stories that people tell themselves to feel better, or to be part of something and escape the loneliness of our hearts ... Do not get lost in a digression. I wanted to tell me I spent hours reading blogs of people's opus, and found true fanatics, with its closed and radical views made me to write reviews, which of course never published, because deep down they are nothing Christians, and their doors are closed to whores, homosexuals and all dirty and sinful people out there, away from his version of Christ. I want to highlight two, the first is a priest who is called Mira Heliodoro and is more concerned with preaching censorship, to define negative the rights of Christians, that is, saying that Christianity is not, rather than that is, putting more emphasis on what not to do that in light ... To prohibit, this gentleman to censure yoga, casts a suspicious look to a practice that only aims to make us better people, or at least, as I understand it, to keep the body healthy. It seems almost like being against pilates or gymnastics, is a product of a persecution almost paranoid look into what has an origin in another religious context ... impoverishing vision of religion that tries to be inclusive, but is kept pure from contamination by foreign elements of Christianity, and declares with certainty that amazing things can not practice then, without compromising the orthodoxy Christian practice, as if Catholicism not be an amalgam of religions, spiritualities and liturgies, which are stacked like layers that have been bringing the mountain from where we are to understand the stars. Don also likes to certify Heliodoro impurity and perversion of homosexuality, which in my opinion, is like condemning a lefty for being left-handed, because nobody chooses to be homosexual and can not be corrected. If it is true that God made us, and therefore God did so to homosexuals and not let them choose their own condition, then, what this man meant to say what God made a mistake in your design?

The second blog that surprised me is that of a post-adolescent, steeped in pride, that 22 years is dedicated to solving moral issues and give advice on the life of the soul, the infinite room full of twists that only the boldest dare to explore, and only the wise know map, soul judging by the way described this kid himself, or knows, or has scratched or has dared to plunge into its depths and contradictions. In your profile, our little moral guidance rather than to describe himself in personal terms, merely list their academic qualifications to cover many of auctoritas and crowned with the aura of the academy, which is where you aupa to speak, by throwing texts and mountains of links that refer us to all corners of the dogma. On the other hand, who by his high stature as an academic should be open to any race dialectic, does not allow dissent on his page, and although invited to do it all kinds of questions, he selects only those in which can look good as interpreter of official texts of the movement, as a Christian turns the other cheek to an easy criticism or cheer-leader of a person who has taken a radical decision with respect to religion. The boy is called Antonio Gonzalez, and his blog is titled "I am Opus Dei numerary, his profile, as told, reads:

I have 22 years. I am Opus Dei numerary. And I'm very happy to be. I have a website with many resources and blog that answers questions about Opus Dei. Moreover, my activities are varied. You could say that I am moonlighting. Better, so I take more time that passes quickly. Last September I finished the degree in physics, and now I'm doing a doctorate in physics. In the morning, aside from the PhD, I am studying Industrial Engineering. I'm in third. I've been doing both races simultaneously, but I recently more focused on physics. Anyway, the most interesting, as far as my favorite, arrives in the afternoon: Work in a youth club, with a large number of partners from Primary 5 onwards.

I encourage you to take a look at your page, because I assure you that you are going to laugh, and much, to the collection of misguided people who come to this dubious oracle. I particularly enjoyed the following entry which I copy to amuse a little, showing you the tip of the iceberg:

I have 16 years and I am from a village in the province of Jaén.
'm very practicing Christian. However curiosity

input into a search engine on the mortification and enter your bloog (BTW very interesting) and I read your words on the subject.
read that you used in these disciplines and sackcloth.
Although I'm young I've been tempted to use them several times, lthough I have never done, first because it was not entirely combencido, second because I have not had the means.
I would like to tell me your esperencia with the instruments of mortification.
I'd like more or less detailed pain produced by wounds and stuff.
not think I will ask for masochism.
Like I said I've been tempted to use them.
I would like also to tell me the spiritual benefits received by these practices.

antamano thank you your information.
A Salute.

As the Internet has the ability to interlink everything and create communities of thought that cross oceans and borders, I was soon finding other priests and religious who returned to restore my faith in the Church, or at least in the confines of the Church, there is always good men like Jesus, not afraid of anyone, do not close doors anyone, nor soul, nor those of the blog, and good listeners, leaving others to be judged by, and instead of preaching with confidence and pride, they do it with love and with enthusiasm. Unfortunately these treatments, increasingly, are at the extremes of Christianity, on the outskirts of the church, lost in a remote community. But a little of its light enough for Antoniogonzalez Heliodoromiras and stay in simple story, and for people who like this fucking cynical and unredeemed who writes, you need to know from time to time, there are good people, we lay quietly, knowing that good does not have all been defeated. In this journey through the web, I found Father Cristian , Concon, Chile, and Deacon Maurice of Playa Ancha. Humble priests, with their small parish, there in the end of the world, facing the sea, with no grandstanding, no grand pronouncements, unpretentious ... Who could feel God within themselves, as they ought to feel them. Although I do not believe, or do not know if I believe, I am comforted to think that if I read it, would pray for me.

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ADS HAVE STOPPED LISTING IN MY BLOG

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Well, that, that I become ad ... so fast.

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I just put ads on my blog. So maybe I'll teach you pay for a piece of my soul ... Whores only we strip for money, would lose power if not try to charge for this act of exhibitionism.

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Fugir pra bem longe e outro place BLINDNESS

I always animated version of "another star" by Stevie Wonder which Salome de Bahia and entitled Outro place. I've found a page out there and you put the link. The letter is different than that of Stevie, and begins with a voice full of energy injected into any sentence by frivolous it is, the spirit of Brazil: "Fugir e outro pra bem longe place ..." Far away and flee elsewhere. The following is a letter very vulgar, but Brazilian music is the message in the form not the content, and depth is displayed on the surface of things, so that you are trying to penetrate you find that there nothing beneath or beyond, it's all in the first blow of voice, not what the voice says, in the constant repetition of words that sound good as you carry a tune: fugir e outro pra bem longe place ... and that we sneak into each end until we hear the muscles, not your mind. The muscles respond the voice, and let the mind forget the words. Run away, far and elsewhere. I love being married to that phrase a tune to which my body can not resist, I'm singing to myself from time to time to remind me that I can always do it away and flee elsewhere.

The other day, at a dinner party a customer took me quite Cultureta, was discussed on what period of history would have liked to visit. One of them argued with absolute certainty, and with that tone of one who thinks everyone else is wrong and deserve to be interrupted because they know what they say, that the Athens of Socrates was undoubtedly the most exciting time that humanity has produced . Another told him that the Paris of the 20's, or Shakespeare's England were more interesting, there was one with a setting to learn the conquest of the western United States, because he said he had never dreamed about as little to the movies jeans ... then the girls asked us where we were going. I thought it anywhere, I stay in my time, and if anything, would travel to the future. Women, unlike men, we can say that any time spent was worse. The past does not offer places or spaces for us to lose the time on fantasies of time travel, this clearly is a pastime of the male imagination.

************

And now I will answer a questionnaire that is sent these people by mail and I usually delete them directly. I do wish of a great person who does not know who from the corner of Chile writes a blog that I recommend ... In this blog, he answered the questionnaire and thought that maybe no one answer from among those who had offered these answers. I felt sad to think I was alone, or writing in a vacuum ...


1. What time is it?: 11:54
2. Name?: Zingu (pseudonym, of course)
3. When is your birthday? : It does not ask
4. Zodiac Sign? I do not believe in the zodiac.
5. Where do you live?: Now in Madrid
6. Tattoos?: I had and I removed it
7. Were you in love? I
8. 're In love I do not know.
what 9.?
10. Loved someone so much as to mourn?: I cried, but I'm not so much love and so much pride ...
11.Estuviste in a car crash, yes, but it was not my fault ...
13. Full or Burgers? I do not know what are the full
14. Pepsi or Coke?: Gin tonic
15. Beer or wine: First, a beer, then the white and finished with red
16. The glass half full or half empty? : That there is something inside me just
17. Age: x
19. Favorite Number? : 3
20 .- Your favorite pet? : Labrador
21. Type of music? : One that moves me and touches me
22 .- Your favorite actress or singer: Lauren Baccala, Sarah Vaughan, Fernanda de Utrera
23.Flores: Poppy red, white and purple
24. Talking? : To make me laugh or make me think
25. Disney or Warner? : Independent
26. Restaurant or fast food? : Restaurant
27. When you were seen at hospital: long
28 .- Your love Platonic love is Platonic all my
29. How you see yourself in ten years: I do not see
30. Whose got this email? : A priest blogger
31. Which of your friends about this further?: Those who do not know what I do ...
32. Who do you think will answer this mail faster? No one, not an email
33. Who do you think it will take longer to respond? : No one writes on my blog
34. You would change your life? : Nothing
35. Favorite CD? : Piano concertos of Beethoven No. 5
36. Best feeling? : Honesty.
37. The first thing you think when you wake up?: What I eat for breakfast today
38. Storms like you or scare you? : I like
39 .- Your favorite place: a cliff overlooking the sea
what about the 40.?
41. What's on your bedroom walls? Books, music and photos
42. Write something to the person who sent you this email: Thanks for not afraid of me
43. Name the person may not answer you? : I do not know
44 .- Your best friends left me, then they were such good friends
45. Who I'd like you to respond? : I do not care
46. Favorite Sport?: To see, soccer, practice, ski
47. Shy (a) or extroverted (a)? : Shy feigned
48 .- Your best friends: the children's
49. Your nickname? : That I have put
50. You like that you give away, things that surprised me
51. You do not like you? : Too many things, beginning with my hair
52. Do you like reading? : Much
53. Speak any language? : English, Portuguese and
54 .- An anecdote? : For that you have my blog
55 .- You have been disappointed: I protect myself from them expecting the worst in people
56. Collect anything? : Shoes
57. Have a phobia? :
of spiders 58. Your favorite TV show? : The Office
59. Cold or hot? : Heat
60 .- Your favorite movie? : I prefer the novels
61. Team? : Betray me, is a provincial team
62. Send a message to all your friends: what, not going to read
62. What would you do if tomorrow were the end of the world? : Prada and try to steal heroin
63. You admire? : A straight people
64 .- Name of your first love (a): sorry, I will not betray me 65 .-
what he would give to your best friend, something I'd have
66 .- and your worst enemy? : nothing
q 67 .- A song makes you sad: "Wild is the Wind" by Nina Simone
68 .- A q you happy: Anyone Brazilian
69. What time is it?: 12:14

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Saturday morning. Tonight I have work with the blind. From time to time I called. He is married and has not always been blind. It was a car accident, she lost the airbag in the face and stabbed the lenses of his sunglasses. You should not write these gruesomeness in my blog, but in order to serve as notice because it happens to me has more than one. What surprises me is that you leave the dough in my services, because when you no longer see, what else gives you a whore 30 euros or a 350? What does he care that is pretty or ugly, fat or thin? Suspuse always in blindness, beauty is constructed with the senses that remain, and the freedom from the tyranny of the image, the chance of being attractive is multiplied: Just a beautiful voice, a soft-touch body and a pleasant smell to be as attractive as any other. There is the view out there to lower points and reduce the attractiveness of a person, just because a nose is an inch more than necessary, or because the eye color is too vulgar, breasts are a little fall and the areolas are too big and dark lip is fleshy enough ... small deviations make a face millimeter longer harmonious and beautiful, and finally we condemn such a large number of constraints when seeking pleasure from the contemplation of beauty, it seems better to be blind to gender. So many people we did not like would be fine, just by virtue of those attributes most profound and intimate despises the sight distance and immediacy with which collects data, and that only the ear, nose, mouth and yolks fingers can feel.

Well, all this thinking of blindness is false in the case of my client tonight. He still preferred to girls who can do qualify as beautiful, or rather "they are good." Pardon my lack of modesty about it, but why would I lie, after all I know I'm beautiful and traffic with my body itself. My client says there is something intelligible, which can be sensed without the participation of the senses, physical beauty of a woman. He noted he knows when he's with a beautiful woman and when a ugly. I always quoted to explain a poem by Ezra Pound is known about memory and I just found on the Internet, so I copied it for you to know English (I dare not translate, lest she messes): Tame Cat



It Rests me to Be Among beautiful women
Why Should one always lie about Such Matters?

I repeat: It
Rests me to converse with beautiful women
Even Though Nothing But we talk nonsense,

The Purring of the invisible antennae
Is Both stimulating and delightful.