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Bus Bus Vol 1 Vol 2

{WARNING! If you believe that Finley is the rebirth of Italian music, the Tokyo Hotel pesissimo do rock and that the words mean MCR My Chemical Romance, and Modena City Ramblers, then shove off, punk! This post is too serious and socially committed to a child of 12 years like you. If things do not go down, you can go directly to cry on your mom!}

Time to dogs. It was raining buckets. Fortunately, I was on the bus, sitting at the back, as always. The public transport made his way to his shoulder in traffic for then pull to the right, at the bus stop.
He got an old lady, probably with more than four centuries on the shoulders.
was very petite and her clothes reflected the stereotype of his grandmother's comic heavy long skirt, fabric so fine that could be a goat, milk-coffee sweater long, almost to become one with skirt, scarf flowing around her head to protect it from the bitter cold of that day stinking. did not look sick with something, kind of diseases those bastards who will devastate the last days of life. The slowness of movement and delicacy with in his hand railing for granted that I did not stand up in his head flashed the concept of "full physical vigor." small steps, it moves along the corridor of the bus to sit in front of me. me I gathered a bit ', trying to appear less sprawled.
I looked out the window to see what was happening outside of this wet box on four wheels.
From time to time, the tail of my eye was a naughty tease my venerable companion. The weather was inevitably passed on her face of military tracked vehicles. But he left intact eyes. Damn blue of another age; eyes that contained the force that the body does not allow her to express. eyes that took me back to past seasons, that I, as a greenhorn twenties, I have only ever heard. From my grandparents, from the country through the orchards, from the streets of downtown, the chestnuts in the park. He was looking at the landscape of traffic lights and dipped headlights. I continued to cover his eyes, with that spirit of reverence and respect with which you should pull over to a picture, taking care not to violate the sanctity and to understand the message.

I'm still here
Nevertheless
Despite
Despite the best is gone

I'm here until I left a teaspoonful of energy

a tortellini of force
shots of
like I am here
until
dances will be closed and all the defendants
applaud
enthusiastic and smiling
the band of musicians
I will be here

Inside her, I ended up browsing the book covered with a thin melancholy film, then gently closed.
I went back, once again, to think about my filthy affaracci: Do not miss her at my stop, and later I had soccer practice. After a while the lady stood up from his seat, without notice, and walked toward the exit. seemed annoyed, irritated.
As if someone had messed up the shelves of his library.

How To Make Prawn Traps

{WARNING! If you are a sensitive person, and the CL right-thinking not read this post! In this short story of the pipe I had fun as hell to do the dirty and then zozzone you may not like what I'm going to esporrre. Otherwise you can go ahead at your own risk. I've warned you. Then do not go crying to mother.}

N on I was sitting in the back of the bus as usual. I was on an average. [You can write "on average"? I do not know, write it anyway.]
Well, it's of the fact that I was napping peacefully in the seat when, one stop, got a pretty woman.
East was clearly in her thirties and had plenty of money to a high cheese. Blonde
smooth up to the shoulders, pretty enough to face. A chest
aggressive, attention, and a pair of jeans that bagged a nice round ass, everything from biting. Not to mention the leather boots.
Hands up, people!
wandered a bit 'for the bus, then preset wise decision to sit in front of me.
was carrying two bags and a bag of perfume, a bit 'too much for his little hands. However
had seen the good passarsela orologiazzo boasted that his wrist. He took off his jacket
clubbers, definitely brand. At that time, however, did not think much attention because my traveling companion proved to be a very tight knit cream custard. I did not understand what was happening because her breasts became real pieces of heavy artillery.
Usually, luggage can be too showy grotesque and tacky for wearer. Instead, for this young lady (lady, no faith ring finger) all wore perfectly.
I was visibly stunned.
It's never good to be attacked so-blank in the early morning.
I tried to argue with this massive offensive with a smile of circumstance.
Nothing to be done.
The blood was migrating from the brain to the brain very small.
Luckily I had the bag on his lap.
" The defense is saved in the lineout," said the commentator imagination of my empty head.
She pulled the phone from one of his fifty-seven bags. It looked pretty new.
I began to think that had less than thirty years.
" like to sit?" He asked an elderly lady who stoically resisted the turbulent driving of the driver.
Unfortunately, I had a beautiful voice, although it was not scratchy, it was a stamp from the glass wool, fittings and chewed by hand wrenches and pliers.
" So you lose points, sweetheart," I thought to myself, look to Fox.
Well, I do not say anything as a woman, but I raised a good feeling at the pubic bone.
put on his jacket and his militia back in position. He got
near the polyclinic.
With her beautiful black girl that boarded the bus with me to my own station.
Truly a superb beauty, six feet tall, covered jeans: I would see good riding a motorcycle, had it not been for the pair of dancers feet.
Usually, women of color have a powerful face, the whole substance, with few frills.
Instead, she was lovely, delicate, childlike. The look was pretty, but at the same time proud and determined, as a true and inimitable Valkyrie ebony. In keeping with the warrior princess in no way disfigured. Unfortunately
sat down in my area.
So, I had the opportunity to make a thorough investigation with my clinical eye.
As for Miss East Africa.