"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."

Ma chi si credono di essere?

Ma cosa pensano, che la gente sia qui a far ballare la scimmia? Che possano fare come gli pare e la gente non se ne accorga?
Ma porca miseria…
Quando ho deciso dove mettere i social button, erano sei, dio santo, non sette! Ora me ne avanza uno su una riga e devo spostarli. E finirà che per questa vaccata butto all’aria tutto il template.
Non ho tempo per queste cose, ciccio, è il mio giorno libero oggi, ho dei fumetti da leggere. Odio il signor splinder.

Spooktober

Spooktober 29 – The Black Monk (4)

Chapter 7 One long winter night Kovrin was lying in bed, reading a French novel. Poor Tanya, who had headaches in the evenings from living in town, to which she was not accustomed, had been asleep a long while, and, from time to time, articulated

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technology

Hey, teacher, leave the bumblebee alone

Every few months it comes back. A pencil drawing of a bee, a quote in a serif font, and different authorities invoked as the source: aerodynamically speaking, the bee cannot fly, but it doesn’t know that, so it flies anyway. It gets shared and liked,

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Spooktober

Spooktober 28 – The Black Monk (3)

Chapter 5 Glad that he had been so successful in the part of peacemaker, Kovrin went into the park. Sitting on a garden seat, thinking, he heard the rattle of a carriage and a feminine laugh — visitors were arriving. When the shades of evening

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4 Comments
  • Quadrilatero
    Posted at 15:34h, 31 January Reply

    Non vedo nulla fuori di posto.

  • Shelidon
    Posted at 22:40h, 31 January Reply

    Sopra la tua testa. I pulsantini. Sono sette. In fila per due col resto di uno.

  • Damiani
    Posted at 17:22h, 02 February Reply

    Scherzi della nostra benamata piattaforma Shelidon! Tu però dedicati ai fumetti che le tue guide sono ormai di culto!

  • Shelidon
    Posted at 10:01h, 04 February Reply

    Troppo buono

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