Saturday, September 25, 2010

Spray Tan Compressor Gun




I'm here, where are you? Tozzi and Kafka and Mark Twain and Thurber Saramago Calvin and Achille Campanile Cicognani of Egypt and the brown with the white beard ... Obviously the white monkey Meneghello and certainly Jack and then rather than Savaaage Steinbeck?

you where you are? And where you went off the goose Martina ...

The Emperor - so he says - he sent to you, to an individual subject to a put, a shadow lost in the farthest away from the sun imperial For you, the Emperor sent a message from his deathbed. He made the messenger to kneel by the bed, whispering in his ear the message, and pressed so that if you have repeated ear. With a nod has confirmed the correctness of what was being said. And before all those who attended at his death (all the walls were demolished to prevent it and the stairs that rise high and wide in a circle are the largest in the kingdom) in front of them all has dismissed the messenger. Trial was immediately set in motion, is a stocky man, tireless, or maneuvering with one or the other arm makes its way through the crowd, if it impedes Pointing to his chest on which the sun is marked, and carry it more easily than anyone else. But the crowd is so huge, and its homes have no end. If he had the green light, outside, as would fly! And listen the wonderful shots of his hand on your door. But instead as you get tired in vain! still trying to make inroads in the innermost rooms of the palace, he will never overcome, and although he would not succeed at anything, it should open the way down all the stairs, and even if successful, would not have anything: we still have to go through all the courtyards, and behind them the second building and so on for millennia, and even if you were to rush out of the last door - but that never ever will be - there is all the imperial city in front of him, the center of the world, filled with all its waste. No one can go from there, much less with the message of the dead.
But you're the window and dream when he arrives in the evening.

F. Kafka (The construction of the Great Wall of China)
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