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to die that death

Apollo listened to me, but in his own way - after all, is the god of art and beauty, not an employee of Caritas or complaints.

Latino (version) external Greek
: external
History: Outdoor
Philosophy: External
Sciences: external
English: History of
internal: external (if Apollo God willing)
Italian: Internal
Mathematics: internal
Physics: Internal

So I know that death finally die a death that requires external address all my subjects. PERO 'version is Latin.
Well, in fact. My purpose was, after all, I'm happy (no, not true, I'm desperate, but so to some extent in the damn school I go out there and only that matter. Really, I go well with the 60 adjoining kick in the ass. Yes Yes Yes).
the sclera is left immediately on both fronts, professor and students. Four months will be calm and relaxed.
Fuck yeah.

history lesson, last time
Prof: "During the two years it was left red go-ahead to mavericks such as bundles of combat, seeing, doing nothing to clashes which caused hundreds dead ... "
Eugene," but which side were the beams? "Prof
(sinking in his chair):" I kill myself. I swear that I will kill myself. You do not understand anything! A damn, you got it! "
Eugene," but no depth, really ... they were politically aligned? "
Prof:" Cuckoo, think! The beams of combat where you want to be deployed? "
Eugenio:" Eh ... Boh. With the socialists? ".
Prof: "Eugene de Signuri puverett (yes: the Milanese that crops up when the nerves are out now in pieces), reasons: you are a worker, ok? Come exploited from morning to evening and you are subscribed to the only party that defends you a minimum: the social. While protests in the square comes a squadron of beams that begins to fill the barrel. According to the logic, these beams are socialists who beat the socialists? "
Eugenio:" No ".
Prof: "And thank God EUGENE, are those who founded the Fascist Party from them 'TO A YEAR!"
Eugenio: "Aaaah ... Right, then! "
Prof:" Well, hardly! (Sigh) Tell a blunder so mature and I will disregards publicly. "

EDIT: go down with the dachshund, tired, emaciated, destroyed, repeating to myself the history of World War I as a mantra and thinking anxiously at what happened to my boyfriend "was just going to return the CD to a friend" and that does not respond to phone for three hours. At one point I hear a loud voice that roars behind me "Hey, with blond shrew" and I turn around ready to yell "is not the day, dickhead" or other amenities similar to the idiot in office, I realize that machine I have family down and I see that the smiling boy with three friends in tow. He came to give me good night, bringing with him the whole herd - flock that has not stopped a second to whistle and tease him.
Now even the Battle of the Somme seem almost enjoyable from behind my giant pink glasses.