not forward, uncouth.
not wrong to choose the day in which to flourish.
trailerizó We do not even what's next.
No, no.
Today fall reminded us that never was. Was stretching hiding behind rose petals and jasmine. Waited involved in birdsong. And, of course, in the shadow of cleavage.
wandered protected by the highest hiding place: its opposite. Thus, between spring and summer masks, was preparing to nest. It was filled with coffee and chocolate and movies and melancholy and joy and wine and fried cakes and cuddling under blankets and heavy and dull and poetry.
I look around me, like a mad woman, beautiful and charming, lying naked with one hand and inviting the other on my heart.
"If it rains I cut my balls.
Spam The fat never had the virtue of timing. Dimensional or modesty. Or sense of humor. Or touch. Neither of good breath. Or the absence of a smell of sweat twinned with agony, skunks and wet tires.
I watch as you look at who just ruin something beautiful. That is like Clint Eastwood looks at the world.
"Today I leave with a minita .- adds, as if I care. I guess my impression of Clint Eastwood is not too correct. If you squint more eyes could pass as a clumsy imitation of an Oriental. And a critic would insult me \u200b\u200bas racist. And another critic criticize the critic, accusing him of racism because they see that the other is different is not racist if it is soaked in prejudice or hate but the tipping shocked to any dispute, claim that all are equal, is racist. And another critic criticize the critic's critic, accusing him of racism as hand washing with relativism attempts to conceal that there are always power relations used as one of his arms to precisely relativism. And another critic criticize the critic critic critic saying that -
- Do not you think?
Spam guess the fat and I went on many critical dialectic between not hear it.
head nods slightly, pursing his lips slightly and raising his eyebrows. You can spend as acceptance. You can spend as doubt. Smile. I do not know what was in my face but I was convinced. He gets up and walks with difficulty. I see him go. Not because I want to but because my eye was caught in its gravitational field.
Achievement detach and lose once again in the fall arrabalero that stretches across the window. Ah, home of minor poets and -
-Wilfred. Did you read the mail I sent?
How could I explain to my boss that the First Fall is a holiday for me? Head nods slightly, pursing his lips slightly and raising his eyebrows. Winks at me and returns to his office.
I put the headphones. And I play to make banana pancakes this woman crazy, beautiful and charming that is autumn. All Moreover, work, office mates, issues and gossip-that is stabbed by the rain as whistle to turn the pancakes and she smiles.
