Phlegm In Newborn's Throat

Brussels without cars, metro free! A real godsend ... so me and we took the opportunity to Nermin we went to the cinema Kinepolis (27 beautiful rooms ... wow wow, I'd say) ... to see Mirrors (which do not recommend it to everyone who has a heart murmur or are emotionally ... that I would not have to go to see it ...).
My week starts with a beautiful awakening h6: 30 to go to French school ... where I find that a terrible fatwa hanging over my head.
The teacher gives us a discussion topic: racism ... and the debate inevitably slips on religion (remember: my class is composed of 10 girls, 7 of which referred to 3 practicing Muslim wearing the veil) and my neighbor bench wrapped in his diving suit me severe announced that a lost soul as
a) atheist (if I were a Christian, meaning "people of the book" I had some chance of redemption)
b) I had more with morosini which I have not spent any time talking about meteorology before marriage
c) do not wear the veil, and this does not make me worthy of the respect for people.
Very good.
A little 'pissed off I tried to explain that
a) I do not believe in God but not for all this violates the 10 commandments
b) l'amour c'est l'amour
c) men should begin to rein in their hormones even if they see a hair that falls on the cheek of a lovely girl. Hmmm
but my neighbor's desk, as well as the right arm of Al Qaeda from what I understand, has not deigned to hear my comments and did not use half-measures to tell me that I do not believe in God but when I die God will judge us and will be my cock.
loooong well.
I thought my day was not over Once out of the school gate but life holds for us a lot of surprises. After 3 hours at Rixensart
to do absolutely nothing because there was absolutely nothing to do (except, of course, play pool) and after eating a TERRIBLE overcooked pasta and tasteless at the table of my heart ... I get on fine Walloon train ... and I am filled with a pungent smell of cognac, a drunk passed out in my car.
I think only one word: Yuppiduppidu
the conductor arrives, comes the security guard arrives ... the ambulance comes to take Monsieur Alcolique the station. Fortunately
home I was expecting a nice cup of tea with cinnamon prepared with much love from my roommates Romanian (atheist) ... Home sweet home
ah! If you do not write more about the blog ... it is because the Supreme Court of Islamic Emirate of Brussels made me blow up like the Buddhas of Bamiyan ...

Sorority Initiation Lad

I feel now the night comes down with his cold hands on me, but how cold is cold but that is a political refugee

Arctic climate, technology questionable ... this is not a section of the blog: THIS ' AN SOS! How do you turn on the stove Potagère rue 58??

Occhei, I learned to turn the water heater in the bathroom losing two toes to gangrene in the effort to crush those tiny little buttons and pressing them very hard but for 6 hours straight ... now I'm at level two: turn on the heater in the kitchen.

Roberta and I have continuously pressed whatever was squeezable on the stove for 20 minutes at a rien à fair ... but if you no longer have my news ... it's because I did the same end of the star of "Into the Wild": intoxicated from the table of Rixensart, frozen in my bed. RIP

Phat Bike Pocket Bike

Today I learned what the term political refugee. I learned that 3-year universities, newspapers and news I had never been taught.

My ears have heard (and hear) stories of horror that even Tarantino's imagination could conceive.

are so full of disgust that I do not know what to think or say or write. I can only listen and nod and try to understand but I can not because my life has taught me not gold What is the fear of death. Today I learned what the term refugee and I felt useless.

Where To Buy Tire Chains In Stockton Ca

Josh Hartnett is not washing clothes St. Josse

First day of "work" in Rixensart. 40 minutes by train to get to Pleasantville (I think there are no real towns like Rixensart ... is nothing but a meticulous reconstruction of a small town in the heart of American-Cinecittà) 15-minute trail straight ahead (it is Pleasantville!) To reach the center domandeurs for asylum. Thanks Roberta for taking me (the partnership between Italy and Romania Stainless steel is ... especially when we ask, where are you from? Romania! Ahiahiahai ... and you? Italy ... oh la poubelle! Yeah Italy, Romania, a face, a race ... oh ... I'll create a group on feisbuc). Henryk M.

I accept, the literacy worker who knows more or less thirty languages, introduces me Sorina, the officer in the service after-school, Italian-Romanian now living in Belgium who hates the rain and clouds and regrets Padova . I'm told that everything must be kept under key: office, bathroom, playroom, dining room, library, computer room (I wonder residents are keeping them under key?!? Oh no ... it is Ramadan, a fly does not fly).

I get my fork, my knife, my spoon and my bowl and my cup. Short (short?! Cerese is as big as this center!) Tour of the center ... many ... too many handshakes, kisses on the cheek!

Yes, yes I'm the one who replaces Julie and I'm here one year. I come from Italy ... yes, we are full of waste.

Brief blah blah with all (Have you drank Belgian beer? Ah yes, even in Albania I've got an intestinal virus! And little things like that ... and finally, the mess! Much better than I had said! Maud good cook! )

Afternoon of billiards: Because the kids return to the three school Oualid for two hours patiently tried to teach me how to hit a billiard ball ... with poor results ... and its huge disappointment ... and once I even did win!

Here come the kids ... playing pool or watching TV ... then a little 'DIY with Monsieur Bricolage (the kids call it that!).

My head smokes: the males are called Muhammad, Mohamed, Ahmed, Madou, Hisham, Achid, Hassan, Hosein and Hussein (find the seven differences between these names) and no one guesses it ...

Sorina departs to station (he lives in Liège!) I follow (if not get lost among the meandering gorges and corridors du Centre). I wait 20 minutes the train arrives very punctual and I almost get emotional (but then I am truly at Cinecittà and everything is possible!) And after 40 minutes during which I wonder if that child was called Hashim Hisham or arrival at the Gare du North that is straight in the red light district of Brussels. All

straight and come home, shove a lot in all my dirty clothes and I ran to the laundromat where I do not understand absolutely nothing about the machine but I try and tries again and eventually moved to pity a woman comes up and tells me how the various buttons. Wash, wipe and go back home wondering where the St. Josse Josh Hartnett (who in this film Mohamed Abdul to call it) ... going from my greengrocer / pasta maker / baker / butcher / fishmonger / newspapers / electrician was a great buy mango juice with subtitles in Arabic, but as he closed the door of the fridge I dropped the cans on a bottle of coke glass of water causing a movement of anger evident in the grocery / pasta maker / baker / butcher / fishmonger / newspapers / electrician who greets me with a friendly at all au revoir.

Et voila.