Thursday, April 03, 2008

David Cameron, Flowers of Bad, and my review of his book all walked into a Babelfish Translator...

David Cameron flew low front. In the twilight when you confuse the field this beater operational with him.

His sailplane of the breath is functional.

Some divide large, potato and the songbirds of Viking are caused with concert by these Flowers of Bad: Mistranslations, or perhaps Babel, of Baudelaire.

While singing in the duty of construction.

Some beams at the top of the sparks steal the men who make examination of the part in the methods of the men.

Women who make examination scaffolding.

It is Whistler, 2008. And what you hear is not him supervising, nor their orders, but deformed song of tended Cameron so that its metal is reflected now.

It makes examination of first quatrain of "man and sea (XIV),"

In books you’re always looking at the sea!
The sea is your mirror, you look like an ass
In the infinite derailments on your street
And your spirit is less patriotic than a golf ball

when, in dialect of Argentina, you wish to call somebody an idiot or imbecile, it is not any coincidence whereas in a Basque sphere, or in the puffiness, it is with the root of a head of the sphere.

For Maradona, the sphere is something to give a rejection. And the head of the person stupid must be used to play golf.

In the books, like the character and a more obvious function of literature likes the mirror, this one "that one you" looks at outside, attractive in the sea during a visit with the beach in a ratty outfit. Perhaps this "that one you" smoke, perhaps not. Perhaps this "which you" think that must resemble an ass of which majority of the dream of the pelotudos: asses.

Infinite doors, or of the derailments, the derailleur (options in the clutch) or other streets which are carried out distant of anything, as a rabble proves certainly to sell the patriotism. Hidden Pelotudos are found in the sphere.

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