Domingo, 13 de novembro de 2011. É triste seu moço! Triste como passarinho na chuva,. Num céu nublado de inverno. É tão triste, feito lágrima de criança,. Que pede a Deus família. Triste como um prato na mesa,. Um só travesseiro no colchão. Triste como olhar de cão de rua. É triste como esperar na janela,. Triste igual sonho de mariposa querendo. Brincar com beija-flor na luz do dia. Triste como perfumar e arrumar a casa.

You can get it here. judging for all the wild life in it. I know, I was one. The damn greasiest water I ever seen. Until we reach the read sea.

Serve para perder o medo -. all the fucking talks about equal rights between sexes and then you grow up and realize every women you know accept their rules and their ways. Life as I know it.

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It has emerged that Cecil the lion, who was killed in Zimbabwe last week, is not the gentle giant his defenders have made him out to be. A local gazelle named Sarah has reported that the pride of lions led by Cecil had caused problems all over the district, and added Last year, he was caught carrying a gnu.