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We enter the wonderful world of MEDEA : www.pasionesdemedea.blogspot.com

Medea "is his real name or artistic hideaway used to seduce?

IS MY HIDING. MEDEA is a witch GREEK, DAUGHTER OF A KING AND BECAME CRAZY FOR THE LOVE OF JASON.

Your blog is amazing, the reality of his writings, possessiveness and particularity that you put in each text, suggests that we are real experiences. What does the impetus to create such a blog?

I always dig to the sexual theme. BUT THEY SAY ABOUT SEX ALL THAT IS NOT TRUE. KNOW THE DIFFERENCE? FEELING THE INTERIOR WITH EVERYONE YOU SEE. AND THAT MAKES IT DIFFERENT.

A blog dedicated to it xo and created by a woman also is unusual in cyberspace, do you think that more men than women read?

READ THINK More men than women, but I think writing about it, more women than men. MEN NEED TO BE IDENTIFIED WITH THE FANTASIES WRITTEN BY WOMEN, BUT WOMEN NEED TO BE HEARD. Our heart is in constant turmoil.

Want to add something, maybe new projects, we can advance anything?

FIRST, I WANT TO STOP LIGHT, THE FACT THAT A WOMAN WRITE EROTIC STORIES, IS NOT TO WEAR A SIGN IN THE FRONT "EASY" SECOND, I WILL CREATE A NEW BLOG ON sexology. A BLOG ON THE I WANT TO ASK QUESTIONS AND MAKE ME ABOUT THE SEX. FOR BOTH SEXES. IS CALLED "THE TEACHER OF sexology."

www.pasionesdemedea.blogspot.com, www.pasionesdemedea69.blogspot.com

Thank you so much for sharing with us all of his life and leave us with this good feeling.

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We are in crisis? Emphatically not the holidays began

Not now. We have always been in crisis. I take into crisis since fuck knows when. I take in a crisis since I was born, I never remember leaving with their parents in addition to the English Court of Madrid. Levo crisis since when he was studying, I could not meterme casings, chips and marijuana. I kept the crisis when hunting any chorbita with which pactaba before the first powder, which would mean for every time we leave the restaurant, forgiveness and McDonalds. The crisis was disgusting in my first big trip, while studying at Labour, Borough, and we went to Mallorca a damn bus without sleeping, to Valencia, where a boat batteries (which torture ...) and my friends and I had sobar that (I was unable to vary) en butacas mentras os pijos (non me olvido dos vosos caretos, que o saibades) estirábanse en camarotes. E vivo en crise hoxe, mirando a mediados de mes como van os meus amigos de Caixa Galicia, aos que agradezo, iso si, que me presten un piso no que vivo, do tipo HM (Hipoteca Mediante), sen poder ir de veraneo, que horrible expresión, quince días ao último nardo.
Iso, amigos, é a crise.
Pero porque agora falan de crise?
Eu nunca deixei de tomar mortadela. Quéixanse os que a teñen que probar agora?
Os bares están baleiros?
Segue habendo enchufados?
E fillos de papá? Moitos? Mogollón deles?
E os restaurantes?
Non é España campioa de Europa?
As axencias de viaxes pecharon?
As festas gastronómicas botaron freno?
Cantos coches de grande cilindrada vedes pola rúa?
E pisos de flipar?

É o que hai...