BloodyMoon Pilot Arc - works in progress! Dark
The first two chapters of my webmanga BloodyMoon Pilot Arc are now online here
! Sorry they are in italian only for now (but I'm thinking about translate them). The third chapter will be online as soon as possibile. :D Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Rimmel Blushes Swatch
At the moment I'm working on the fourth chapter. Here the preview of the cover. It's still without screentones... :3
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Walk-in Clinic Swot Analysis
Birthdays + exams
Today turns 30. Yesterday, today and tomorrow I have exams. Tonight I am made a nice rum and coke loading. Happy birthday to me.
Today turns 30. Yesterday, today and tomorrow I have exams. Tonight I am made a nice rum and coke loading. Happy birthday to me.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Skates Witharch Supports
When The Ombudsman also play D & D loss of meaning, the end is near
So now studied. Hamiltonian systems, linearization of systems of differential equations. Then I went out to race in the country. I ran up in that place where you can see the island's Pad, which as everyone knows is down to Oglio. At sguas. After Garat, the place looked to the stars, and Gere. At some point in the thick of the campaign, while listening to Soilwork, I start running through the holes in the ground as if escaping from something. There was nothing, but I wish that there was not, but I could imagine there was anything to escape from. The truth is that I wanted to mosh to the music of Soilwork, as the concert in November, but in the countryside there is no one willing to do it and then I started bumping into the trees.
than when used against walls, trees have a bark scratching. Now I have scratched around the elbow. Who asks me what I did, or do a face as if surprised I had not even noticed the scratches, or say candidly that I got elbowed a tree, although it is not exactly true. In the latter case the other person looks at me funny and tells me that maybe we should talk 4. Arrival at sguas staggering and shouting of the bends radiohead. The island of Pad there. Not there is none. I wish there was at least an old way to take care of me, giving meaning to his vecchitudine. I wish there was the cousin of my father to beg him not to say anything to my songs that are there to scream and run around and if he does I give him my shirt to Mayor Alemanno sweating, even though we are fond.
keep on screaming songs of Radiohead, so the Oglio runs the same. Then there are the Faith No More. Shout diggin the grave and vomiting. With an empty stomach not throw up much.
In this place I always carried my grandfather there. Some remember the dead and cemeteries. O with useless prayers. In places where I've lived with them. I study in the room under my grandfather's medals. Under the medals of France, who tell me about how he shot a cannon across Spain in the name of the King to bring home a decent salary to help the mother to feed younger siblings. Or the medals of Russia, as he returned on foot from the Don in the winter without shoes or food.
I think of him and his bad luck of having to choose as a favorite nephew, I am the only male to carry his name. He did not have much choice, poor. I study under its medals not only to understand and commit my fucking useless to cry about life that ruined me alone to sleep. He who returns from Russia on foot. On foot fucking in the snow. But you understand cazzodidio on foot? I would not have made a yard. I just thanked you could become the to freeze and not having to suffer and make others suffer the humiliation of my uselessness.
I just think how nice it would freeze. My grandfather said that was not bad freeze, for those who succeeded, and that almost was happening to him as well, and that was not bad. In summer it is very difficult to freeze. At least here in Puntica.
My grandfather lived to see me one day occupy a peaceful place in life. Luckily my grandfather died.
So now studied. Hamiltonian systems, linearization of systems of differential equations. Then I went out to race in the country. I ran up in that place where you can see the island's Pad, which as everyone knows is down to Oglio. At sguas. After Garat, the place looked to the stars, and Gere. At some point in the thick of the campaign, while listening to Soilwork, I start running through the holes in the ground as if escaping from something. There was nothing, but I wish that there was not, but I could imagine there was anything to escape from. The truth is that I wanted to mosh to the music of Soilwork, as the concert in November, but in the countryside there is no one willing to do it and then I started bumping into the trees.
than when used against walls, trees have a bark scratching. Now I have scratched around the elbow. Who asks me what I did, or do a face as if surprised I had not even noticed the scratches, or say candidly that I got elbowed a tree, although it is not exactly true. In the latter case the other person looks at me funny and tells me that maybe we should talk 4. Arrival at sguas staggering and shouting of the bends radiohead. The island of Pad there. Not there is none. I wish there was at least an old way to take care of me, giving meaning to his vecchitudine. I wish there was the cousin of my father to beg him not to say anything to my songs that are there to scream and run around and if he does I give him my shirt to Mayor Alemanno sweating, even though we are fond.
keep on screaming songs of Radiohead, so the Oglio runs the same. Then there are the Faith No More. Shout diggin the grave and vomiting. With an empty stomach not throw up much.
In this place I always carried my grandfather there. Some remember the dead and cemeteries. O with useless prayers. In places where I've lived with them. I study in the room under my grandfather's medals. Under the medals of France, who tell me about how he shot a cannon across Spain in the name of the King to bring home a decent salary to help the mother to feed younger siblings. Or the medals of Russia, as he returned on foot from the Don in the winter without shoes or food.
I think of him and his bad luck of having to choose as a favorite nephew, I am the only male to carry his name. He did not have much choice, poor. I study under its medals not only to understand and commit my fucking useless to cry about life that ruined me alone to sleep. He who returns from Russia on foot. On foot fucking in the snow. But you understand cazzodidio on foot? I would not have made a yard. I just thanked you could become the to freeze and not having to suffer and make others suffer the humiliation of my uselessness.
I just think how nice it would freeze. My grandfather said that was not bad freeze, for those who succeeded, and that almost was happening to him as well, and that was not bad. In summer it is very difficult to freeze. At least here in Puntica.
My grandfather lived to see me one day occupy a peaceful place in life. Luckily my grandfather died.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Peace Sign Bath Coordinates
Boredom rules
How Rare Is Your Personality?
What Kind of Blogger Are You?
How Logical Are You?
What Type of Weather Are You?
| Your Personality is Very Rare (INTP) |
 Only about 4% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 6% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceiving. |
| You Are a Look At Me Blogger! |
 You're notorious ... either loved or hated by all! |
| You Are Pretty Logical |
 While you don't have perfect logic, you logic is pretty darn good Keep at it - you've got a lot of natural talent in this area! |
| You Are Wind |
 A force to be reckoned with, no one dares cross you You have the power to change everything around you You are best known for: your wrath Your dominant state: commanding |
Just make sure to keep your revenge fantasies just that... fantasies only!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)