Leaded by my
sordid stories of internal piping , discredited by a v Ilaina Mélenchon not accommodating to the point of going hanging out with the CPF instead of following the strategy indicated that I had yet heavily, surrounded by incompetent and incapable activists "N" PA half of which are more or less openly moustached, faced with the installation of a financial crisis Because chômedu which lasts no longer believe that it is "behind us, "gun at half-mast by statistics even when they are rigged, managing to deflect some of the same my faith when my j'éructe fascism operetta, noting with growing anxiety as my base of readers engaged in a genuine competition of trolls under the eye of a grinning spoof unleashed, my other self we all experience is not in great shape. "Bof bof", said the air time and the next canned cassoulet tonight promises to music and feel the full nose punishment vote my gut for a return to normal meals ...
But Thierry has more tricks up his sleeve. Well, finally, no, not really. In fact, it has only two, but big: the ultranéolibérôs we will do the po - France comes to unbridled liberalism, and it takes a real man with baloche as watermelons, leather, studs and chains to have fun and this right man will be me Thierry CSP - and when it works not the heavy artillery, that which comes out on special occasions to send a strong signal to the fringe of the most moldy his readers against all the bellowing fachitudes. Translate: when things go wrong, the litany out on the right that prevents fachoïde nice people left to speak, who wants our women and our children, and also a little ass because it sells, ass .
But what's new in there ?
Not much, since the look right is Facho and the country is held by the Liberals are the cream pie of a dilettante in writing of any teenager on a leftist blog more boring. Call the big night on the familiar tune of Resistance Brownshirts can always put the real problems under the carpet - one example among others: the terrifying rise of a deadly stress when you're alone at home, Butch and ran out of patches - to play the card of good little blogger engaged with the guts to fight, ready to defend the true values, and who will not hesitate to climb on top of the towers when he will monitor the nasty right-wingers.
Thierry is worried about the future? His job, when he has one, sucks and the conditions under which they live are being degraded at great speed relative to the mold in the bathroom galloping on the ceiling? The only girl he can approach dresses like a slut and takes 30 € the pass, and it's already a lot when you're unemployed? He has a financial gun to wipe the slate concrete Balto and wondered when it will be over-indebtedness in the knowledge that this is imminent? He looks at the JT (not at home, the big TV is down, so he goes to the cell of the "N" PA not to feel too only) that shows that things are going badly and he wondered when the Iranians are going to blow up the bomb? His world is huddled around a badger activism and its alienation of exploited employee who only thinks about the revolution that does not come? He voted CPF for a while and then Olivier, and he says he will have to vote Méluche discreetly because the "N" PA, it's really not like it and he does not know where he lives in Toulouse?
No problem!
Because at least, he remains something to hang on.
Thierry, you're a whelk , crénom!
course, be a whelk is not super-carrier in the world of brutes around us. Thierry is so small bubbles whelk, it foam a little when he puts salt on the foot. For drooling, he drools. The foot, so he has also developed. He writes all his blog. Words. So when it speaks of national identity right or left, bam, here is the small marine gastropod which rises as one man whelk, and the strength of her little foot, writing a hot ticket on fascism and 'confuses supposed or real a government that tries to forget his dismal procrastination by initiating discussions at the con.
Obviously, then, it is still poor and con, eh, but moreover, it is dry as to have drooled.
Then he waits for the tide of history to re-soak.
And that's important to re-soak.
But Thierry has more tricks up his sleeve. Well, finally, no, not really. In fact, it has only two, but big: the ultranéolibérôs we will do the po - France comes to unbridled liberalism, and it takes a real man with baloche as watermelons, leather, studs and chains to have fun and this right man will be me Thierry CSP - and when it works not the heavy artillery, that which comes out on special occasions to send a strong signal to the fringe of the most moldy his readers against all the bellowing fachitudes. Translate: when things go wrong, the litany out on the right that prevents fachoïde nice people left to speak, who wants our women and our children, and also a little ass because it sells, ass .
But what's new in there ?
Not much, since the look right is Facho and the country is held by the Liberals are the cream pie of a dilettante in writing of any teenager on a leftist blog more boring. Call the big night on the familiar tune of Resistance Brownshirts can always put the real problems under the carpet - one example among others: the terrifying rise of a deadly stress when you're alone at home, Butch and ran out of patches - to play the card of good little blogger engaged with the guts to fight, ready to defend the true values, and who will not hesitate to climb on top of the towers when he will monitor the nasty right-wingers.
Thierry is worried about the future? His job, when he has one, sucks and the conditions under which they live are being degraded at great speed relative to the mold in the bathroom galloping on the ceiling? The only girl he can approach dresses like a slut and takes 30 € the pass, and it's already a lot when you're unemployed? He has a financial gun to wipe the slate concrete Balto and wondered when it will be over-indebtedness in the knowledge that this is imminent? He looks at the JT (not at home, the big TV is down, so he goes to the cell of the "N" PA not to feel too only) that shows that things are going badly and he wondered when the Iranians are going to blow up the bomb? His world is huddled around a badger activism and its alienation of exploited employee who only thinks about the revolution that does not come? He voted CPF for a while and then Olivier, and he says he will have to vote Méluche discreetly because the "N" PA, it's really not like it and he does not know where he lives in Toulouse?
No problem!
Because at least, he remains something to hang on.
Thierry, you're a whelk , crénom!
course, be a whelk is not super-carrier in the world of brutes around us. Thierry is so small bubbles whelk, it foam a little when he puts salt on the foot. For drooling, he drools. The foot, so he has also developed. He writes all his blog. Words. So when it speaks of national identity right or left, bam, here is the small marine gastropod which rises as one man
Obviously, then, it is still poor and con, eh, but moreover, it is dry as to have drooled.
Then he waits for the tide of history to re-soak.
And that's important to re-soak.
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