We were me, my Mac and the banana peel on this desk. All three with no idea of \u200b\u200bwhat to do tonight. Both altered by the day. dull weather victims. Or better in Italian, metereopatici , which sounds more like a disease (?).
I completely clouded, after hours spent observing the rain dashed against the car probably left out of the garage with a window half open, like a sluggish Bavarian pope at the time of the Crusades, stare at the ceiling waiting for a good night's messaggino who sleeps in bed or let live not far but suspicion. In the unnecessary waiting sketch jealous and malicious mail to a compliant one (s) known to the English course, which is idle for too long and may cancel automatically, and perhaps is even a little thinner.
My beloved Mac, sensitive to temperature and incompetent people, responds to my commands in fits and starts, losing the senses before the breasts Ainett Stephens and one can see that it takes half nipple but then I decided to lower the flag . The basket is filled with over a century and its vacant look you can imagine the urge to shit as soon as possible and pull the chain of process, including even his master into the vortex.
who seems to have clouded the air is less than what remains of the banana (not the usual porn). His soul has left the earth in a few seconds due to the demand of some butterflies in my stomach shut. Given that the last female of the species to interact with my body were the lusty tiger mosquitoes this summer, I met their desires lavishing a 25 inch golden skin of the Eritrean coast.
So we were three and we have not accomplished anything tonight. How to sell ice to Eskimos trying to make the day had a colorful fail. Blame the rain. I know you will not rain tomorrow. I just saw three and two reality TV news on a school of comedians outside Milan (TG4 and Studio Aperto). It does not rain in that part of the hoof. I can put to bed and feel happy. I look at the ceiling clouded. And it rains
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