Phillipino Dessert Bisquick

blackout Part 6

The cactus garden

6

began to Where and when?
What has annoyed you?
What did you just ruined it?
The Stars - What you have just ruined it?


Chris has been turned the corner towards the parking lot, he noticed me yet. I stopped to run and go after him now with quick steps. My ears are buzzing, but not loud enough to the sound of rushing blood and my heart beating to drown. The wine bottle, I believe such start firmly clasped around her neck that my fingers know and sign up only in passing that the rest of the stinking Lambrusco in the sleeve of my jacket is what I wear for the funeral. Much more me busy my face. I touched my tongue with the front teeth and I am sure that at least one, if not even sit two loose. My nose, which feels as if she had grown to twice their size, and greatly hurts the warm, tasting slightly snot Blood runs through my lips and drips down my face. I wipe again and again how an eight-year-old on a cold winter morning, with the sleeves under the nose down, but that will only cause I smear the red Kroffi in half on my face and clothes.
I look around the corner, still mad with rage and scarcely able to think clearly and see Chris on his black BMW is received. I am only a few meters from him and he noticed me, by some miracle still, although I bumpkin like a mad rhino and hinschniefe myself as a music producer who has just a line marching powder from the rear of an eighteen year-old pop starlet has drawn. My friend reaches into his pocket and presses on the remote control key. In the flash of light the turn signal, I raise my bottle of wine over my head, Christian turns around suddenly, as he would have heard something.
His eyes are big and he stumbles to his car.

Before I know if I actually fly down the bottle and explode on the head of my friend, let me turn someone's arm with the bottle of pain on his back and makes me a leg. I have no chance to support me and clap at the same time with the wine bottle, with face first onto the asphalt. I feel like one of my front teeth nachgibt und ein Stück heraus bricht. Ich jaule auf vor Schmerz und Überraschung und höre eine raue Männerstimme, die mich aus nächster Entfernung zu meinem Ohr anbrüllt. Verstehen tu ich nichts, weder akustisch, noch die sich geänderten Umstände in denen ich mich befinde.
Ich versuche meinen Kopf zu heben und zur Seite zu drehen, als dieser wieder hart runtergedrückt wird, wobei ich mir mit dem angebrochenen Zahn stark auf die Zunge beiße. Frisches Blut mischt sich mit meinem Speichel. Noch nie in meinem Leben war ich so wütend.
Ich bäume mich auf, versuche mich zu wehren, ich sehe aus wie eins der Psychokinder aus so einer Real-Life-Dokumentation. Tränen fließen down my cheeks, I Keifer, spit blood Strampel, drum their feet on the ground until someone sits with her knees to my shoulder blades to me to fix Sun Despite the hopelessness of the situation, I try to continue to pull away, when suddenly the cold metal of handcuffs on my wrists, the backs to each other.


The adolescent would-be punk is not go far without a bull story. The confrontation with the authorities on the one you need to fully train your punk attitude, then you're talking about not only yes, but have also experienced times like really shit the police and the other to brag. Let it at concerts, parties or dates. My personal bull story I share with my Bollo.

Bollo's real name is Timothy Relund, a terrible name. Where did he get his nickname I can not say exactly what that means, that no special or exciting story behind it, Bollo fit just come to Timo. Bollo
I know more than we are friends, I kept him at first for a rather unfriendly, arrogant and unnecessarily aggressive asshole. When I got to know him better, but I noticed that my assumptions are not entirely wrong, but in the microcosm Bollone quite make sense. He was always the most direct, action-oriented, aggressive and therefore somehow more mature of us all. When we got to know us better, we discover a kind of kinship between us, as they can only adolescent males.
Our big brothers were the same age, were known to each other, and everywhere we were raised on them and were to some extent in its shadow. We were a fan of the exact same bands, liked the same movies and hated the same people. The only issue we had was whether there was Long and Thanks for All the Shoes or White Trash, and to Heeb's Been a NOFX Album So the best and we all know it is so long oh well Bollo also allowed to make mistakes.

like to, I started him on a very hot Day at the local lake. It was the last summer vacation begins before my education should be (Right, the anarchist would serve not the state as a slave who had nothing better to do than for its magnificent 3.8 he start secondary school certificate an apprenticeship as an electrician, what do I do?) .
Our entire circle of acquaintances had gathered in a meadow, an old boom box, this name does not deserve actually played our favorite songs, as sampler BRD Punk Terror battle or BRD.
appeared out of nowhere, a police car, a VW bus similar to the cycle paths in and drove at walking pace alongside the young people drinking her to show police presence.
Bollo, the NOFX to be not on his T-shirt looked at his punk attitude, got up suddenly and walked over to the police van. The next thing we saw how he was knocked against the side window of the cab, the passenger got out at once, seized him and laughing loudly Bollo on the bus and pushed the door drew upon from the inside.
all young people watch the show began to roar, the first anti-police slogans took to drive, turned the car and the bottles just missed him and drove the bus, no longer in step-like pace. Later we learned
that Bollo, after the disk was turned down, babbling and smiling, said: "Hi, I'd like one with two scoops of vanilla, a chocolate and a Sergeant, uh, Woodruff, sorry. "
surprised by this open audacity, have him then cashed the police and made the usual checks, could sue really he is not, of course, but without any reaction did the officials not let it go. I believe in the profession you are automatically humor completely resistant against mouthed adolescents.
From the day we Bollo was an institution. Not just him, all the green-white ice cream van story was a so-called Urban Legend in our city. Even today I meet people who tell you that a friend of a friend would have done just that.
frivolous impressed, I thought the Bollo probably not so can be a post.
later one to two parties, we were friends. We exchanged our thoughts on the Bundeswehr, the approaching police state, women, movies and alcohol.
We were almost all in the same opinion, and even though I've never had a ranking that can be said that it and linked me something. I get it together to this day right, but somehow, the chemistry simply if you will.
It must have been pretty much a year later, when I had my first serious encounter with the police. Of course I was
for concerts or the like has often in the anonymous mass und habe auf die Bullen geschimpft, allerdings wurde ich bis zu diesem Abend nie persönlich mit ihnen konfrontiert.

Jetzt sind Bollo und ich die letzten Gäste im Rock on, der einzigen Disko in unserer Kleinstadt. Trotz des Namens läuft hier überhaupt nicht unsere Musik. Der Laden ist die typische Dorfdisko mit Mini-Tanzfläche, schlechten Clubsongs und dem lokalen Proletenpack. Allerdings auch mit den charakteristischen Saufangeboten für gelangweilte Jugendliche. Kartensaufen. 25 DM (oder waren es schon Euro?) für eine Karte bezahlen, auf der ein Guthaben von 50 verzeichnet ist.
Jeder von uns hat mittlerweile eine Karte leer und wir trinken mit Hilfe der Reste auf den Karten unserer bereits gegangen Freunde. Die gefühlte achtzigste Mischung Wodka-Kirsch kriecht meinen Rachen hinunter.
Nach einem weiteren Wu Tang Clan Song verstummt die Musik und die Lichter gehen an. Wir werden freundlich aber bestimmt gebeten zu gehen. Nach einigen besoffenen Verhandlungen, können wir für die letzten noch nicht markierten Geldkästchen auf den Karten zwei Flaschenbiere herausschlagen und haben so sogar noch Reiseproviant.
Als wir den Hof des Rock on betreten ist der Himmel schon etwas aufgehellt. Ich versuche Bollo einen Schrittfehler zu verpassen, wobei ich beinah selbst mein Gleichgewicht verliere.
Wir reden lallend über Musik, darüber wie cool es doch wäre, wenn mitten im Hip Hop Song ein Lied von Slime eingespielt werden würde. Deutschland, Karlsquell, ACAB Bull or pigs.
begin in telepathic agreement we both while singing. Through the streets of one-family houses resounds the echo. "Fascism here in this country, is gradually prevail, we must do something about it, otherwise we can not the cops alone!". We shout so loud that we do not hear the sound of approaching from behind. The headlights are perceived only peripherally, as we apply to the chorus. "We do not want! Pig! We do not want! Pig! Molly and stones! Bull against pigs! "
hardly is the last Bull pigs died away, the police car passed us und kommt quietschend vor uns auf dem Bürgersteig zum Stehen.
Ein glatzköpfiger Riese von einem Polizisten steigt bereits brüllend mit hochrotem Kopf aus dem Auto. Er kreischt irgendwas von Respektlosigkeit, davon das wir betrunken sind und das er unsere Personalausweise sehen will. Ich muss zugeben, ich bin eingeschüchtert von dieser Gestalt und greife schon zu meinem Portmonee, als Bollo laut zu lachen anfängt. Ich nehme die Hand aus meiner Tasche und greife stattdessen zu meinem Bier, welches ich aus Reflex zu meinen Füssen abgestellt hatte. Die Bowlingkugel wird noch lauter: „Jetzt raus mit euren Scheiß Personalausweisen! Sofort!“. „Warum?“ fragt Bollo, „Weil wir ein Lied gesungen haben?“ and has the greasy grin on his face I have ever seen. "Gg-exactly" I mix myself a "we just sang a song, what is even available on CD, so the fascist one's singing is forbidden, this state is still not right?". Even surprised by my courage, I note in passing as someone second exit from the car. A blond woman jumps out of the car and speaks to her radio: "Two rioters rear corner street, St Andrew Way, request reinforcement.
formed in my head slowly, the idea that we can only draw the short straw, but that while the behavior of officials at ridiculous hardly be surpassed ist.
Diesmal beginne ich laut zu Lachen, ich halte mir sogar mit einer Hand den Bauch und als der männliche Beamte weiter brüllt und uns auffordert unsere Ausweise zu zeigen, während Bollo ihm eine völlig bescheuerte Rede über Meinungsfreiheit hält, kommen wir aufgrund der Surrealität der Situation die Tränen.
„Du willst diskutieren?“ sagt der Polizist in einem bedeutend ruhigeren Ton, um danach umso lauter fortzufahren:„Dir ist schon klar, dass das Beamtenbeleidigung war?! Was hattet ihr gesagt?“ „Bullenschweine!“ antwortet Bollo wie aus der Pistole geschossen. „Ah, schon wieder!“. Neunmalklug, ohne zu wissen das er am kürzeren Hebel sitzt says Bollo: "Well, first I sang only one song that appeared on the Slime CD's seed, and secondly, even would say if I like that they are a cop, pig, what I do not do, that would be only an expression my opinion. "
Before him will be answered, two more police cars turn the corner. Bollo starts to laugh out loud again. I had almost calmed down and I have now even put on the floor. Instead of the song echoes now get off our laughter by the road than from any car, even two police officers.
Since there are six police officers in front of me and Bollo, two very innocent-looking seventeen-year olds who are so drunk they are barely can. When we are threatened that they get the cards, if we do not give them, we throw them still whinnying our Persos.
During one of the newly arrived police officers, sits down with our statements in a car and the loudmouth shouting at us continue to Bollo is laughing beside me. We look at just shaking his head, unable to understand what this elevation is.
We make a few provocative jokes about dead bodies that we would have buried in the woods and lighted cars when we get back our identity cards already.
suddenly changes the tone of the official who now probably do not know quite what was it all. He screams no longer speaks to us but from a place reference, and tells us that we, we should not apologize to him and his colleague, expect a fine for insulting had. Now it is back again Bollo the losprustet while even shows the finger at the officials like a kid in the playground laughing at what a different child. The complexion of the police officer is again significantly darker and he and yells "Now bugger off at last!" In the face as we continue to attract Giggling Danner.
Five days later, I stand before my deep disappointment-eyed parents and explain to them the situation and say that they have to pay 150 DM fine for me and ask im selben Atemzug ob sie den Brief für mich einrahmen könnten.


Ich wache unter einer kratzigen Decke auf. Mir tut alles weh aber das schlimmste ist der Durst. Der Geschmack in meinem Mund ist undefinierbar und unerträglich. Ich öffne die Augen und sehe Fliesen. Ich sehe ein alles einnehmendes Grau. Es riecht nach Desinfektionsmitteln und meinen eigenen Ausdünstungen. Außerdem habe ich den eisenhaltigen Geruch von Blut in der Nase.
Die Erinnerung kehrt langsam aber umso erschreckender zurück. Hätte ich wirklich Chris erschlagen wenn nichts dazwischen gekommen wäre? Ich kann es mir kaum vorstellen, hatte allerdings schon ausgeholt, das weiß ich ganz genau. Hätte ich noch withdrawn?
I rummage through my pockets and notice here that I was taken off my phone, my wallet, keys and even my belt. I can still remember the ride in the patrol car and the fact that one of the policemen who arrested me had a mustache on the Magnum would have been jealous. I must have fallen asleep at some point. The arrival of the police station is completely deleted.
I do not have a clock that is still a reliable sense of time and a window it is not natural.
I to judge, due to wince in pain together in my head. I exploiting my face stringent. I feel crusted blood, my nose is extremely swollen and my lips are numb. When I was scanning with the tongue my teeth I find the broken tooth and cringe. Even my tongue hurts and sucks the taste of blood is everywhere. Now what I need even more urgent and important to drink a mirror. A sink would be an advantage. At least one toilet is here. I stand and swaying gently in front of the tinny hole in the ground and try to avoid the biggest splash and enjoy the relaxation of pressure on my bladder. A sigh of wind and leaves my mouth hurts again on the damaged tooth.
When I waver for a Bell or the like around, I hear how the latch of the door be pushed back behind me. "Well, has rested Sleeping Beauty". A police officer who stops for fun, that's what I need it now. I turn around and there is indeed the shouter stands in the doorway. It has become clear older, got himself a fancy ring made of hair growth, but it is unmistakably the same official. I try to speak to my dry lips stick and when I open them I hear the sound of a formal Velcro. "Um ... Hi ... I can go ... well,". I'll wait a few terrible seconds that he recognizes me and like to think, to see how he is trying to classify me in his memoirs. "Jupp, we just need ne signed by them and then they get their stuff back. They can also expect mail from us, for resisting arrest. Post from the attorney of their friend, they'll have this too. "He added smugly.
I follow him up the stairs to the office, I will sign a statement which I did not even read through and stumble out of the station. I just want to get out as quickly as possible here.
Now I'm at the ass of the world, without a car. The worst thing I could think of now, bus or train would be to drive. I look in my wallet and find a tenner. Taxi is also so shallow. I walk down the street, look into my phone, which I had been issued since the funeral. Two minutes later I had four short messages. A future of my ex-wife, who feigns pity and asks if everything was okay, one that me pointing out the five new messages on my mailbox, one from Chris, who asks me what I actually imagining who I am and that he talk to me and wants the last of Bollo. Timo, my soul mate, my hetero-life partner, the only one who understood the situation and asks me if I'm in the message clear, not if I was to report me. If anyone can help me then er. Ich wähle mit zitternden Händen Bollos Nummer. Dank des Sendens meiner Nummer hebt er mit den Worten ab: „Ben? Alles klar?“.
„Hey Bollo, kannst du dich noch an den glatzköpfigen Riesenbullen erinnern?“


Fortsetzung folgt...

Chip Art On The Five Senses

Editor's note

So, bevor ich demnächst den sechsten Filmriss Teil veröffentliche, ich sitze gerade daran und es fällt mir leichter als ich dachte, wollte ich noch schnell 2-3 persönliche Sachen loswerden.


An euch Leser :

Ich freue ich mich nicht nur über jedes Kommentar und jede Kritik, nein ich wünsche mir sie sogar. Ich halte mich nicht für someone super talented and have much much much to learn. Therefore, I urge everyone to remember the something has to do it.
This is meant especially negative criticism. Of course, all praise goes down as oil and pleased me immensely. Nevertheless, negative criticism is extremely important that I learn from the mistakes I make. Since I always write down relatively quickly and am too lazy to leave the lyrics to rest a few days first and then read again by far, I can think of many things does not stop. Passages which are incomprehensible? Plot holes? Relationships that do not make sense? Bring it on, my notes and I promise better. My huge spelling errors are not necessarily meant that, can you tell me but like ICQ or the like.
also gives me a regular benefit of commenting on your part, even a better idea of \u200b\u200bhow many follow this blog at all, which I personally have yet is important because if I would have no validity whistles, I would not put a blog on the Internet. Moreover, the more people read it all the more motivated I am, of course.
uses So, please use the comment feature if you have something to say. If not, no problem verkneift but ask you not a criticism, I'm going to clear and I have not killed .. than you.


to Blog:

Further überarbeite ich gerade das Layout meines Blogs, innerhalb der engen formalen Möglichkeiten die ich habe.
Außerdem wundern sich vielleicht einige, das der Blog, "der Geschichten erzählt", bisher nur eine erzählt.
Ich arbeite parallel auch an einer Art Sci-fi Geschichte, die Problematik ist die Übersicht. Da man diese Blog-Archive nicht thematisch sondern nur nach Datum ordnen kann, würde das eine große Unübersicht mit sich bringen.
Ich arbeite an einer Lösung, wenn ich keine finde, wird halt alles schön der Reihe nach gemacht.

So , das wars schon, am Schluss möchte ich noch verschiedenen Leuten für verschiedene Hilfestellungen oder sehr schönes Feedback des Blogs relating to thank.
So many thanks to Grint, Hagi, Jan, Linda, and Malte Martin.
That's it, I'm out.
Greetings kazper

Piece Of Skin Hanging From Tonsil

blackout part 5

Bruce Willis and Vanessa

5

sex and violence, sex and violence,
sex and violence, sex and violence,
sex and violence, sex and violence
The Exploited - Sex and Violence



It looks so miserable from standing when two late twenties over and try to beat up. Well, actually just trying to beat Christian, I am standing in front of him and think about how I mich verteidigen sollte.
Es wirkt wie eine Parodie von zwei englischen Gentlemen, welche die Fäuste kreisen lassen um sich einen ehrenvollen Boxkampf zu liefern. Nur mit dem Unterschied, dass keiner von uns einen Zylinder trägt und wir uns noch nie geprügelt haben, weder miteinander, noch gegen andere.
Christian ist ungefähr genauso groß (oder klein) wie ich, er ist drahtig und sportlich. Während ich eher, nun ja, halt der Typ mit dem Bierwanst bin. Erschwerend zu meinen körperlichen Defiziten kommt hinzu, dass ich stinkbesoffen bin.
Irgendwie hat es auch was von einem Western, wie wir uns um halb sechs Uhr Morgens bei aufgehender Sonne, vor unserer ehemaligen Stammkneipe, mitten in der Fußgängerzone gegenüber stehen. Einige andere Betrunkene, ich kenne ein paar höchstens vom Sehen, stehen in einem Sicherheitsabstand, der aber gering genug ist um jeden einzelnen Blutstropfen zu sehen, sollte denn welches fließen, um uns herum und warten neugierig darauf was nun passiert, nachdem Christian mich schreiend und fluchend von meinem Barhocker aus dem Irish Pub gezogen hat.

Ich muss was tun, das ganze ist doch lächerlich, mir wird klar, dass nur meine rhetorischen Fähigkeiten mich aus dieser Lage manövrieren können.
„Boah, Chris alter, hör doch mal mit dieser Bruce Willis Kacke auf jetzt!“. „Bruce Willis? Was redest du für ne Scheiße?“. Gut er kapiert nicht worauf I'm getting at, but he has his fists down, that's a start.
"Well, I'm concerned, Jean-Claude Van Damme, I know ..." "Are you completely bescheu ..." he tried to interject but I just kept talking about "... in any case, this melodramatic crap can now hardly be serious be. Christian looks at me blankly for a few seconds and then I realize that I'm broke right through the thin ice on which I have just carefully placed one foot.
"melodramatic shit? Did you have any? Have you fat idiot actually realize what you've pulled off today? Not enough that you too late for the funeral of a unserer besten Freunde auftauchst und mich da auch noch mit reinziehst. Nein, du springst auch noch mitten in der scheiß Predigt auf, rennst keuchend raus, während ein paar von uns sich wirklich Gedanken machen, ob dich die Sache mit Leppert vielleicht mehr mitgenommen hat als du dir anmerken lässt und als nächstes, hört dich die ganze Kirche da Draußen vor Lachen brüllen, als sei der Tod für dich der verfickt beste Witz der Welt.“ „aber…“ versuche ich mich zu wehren und fühle mich unweigerlich an das Gespräch nach meiner Konfirmation mit meiner Mutter erinnert.“… und dann verpisst du feiger Dreckskerl dich einfach. Tolle letzte Ehre für Leppert, ganz großartig Benny, My applause to you safely. Now you stand here, like the stinking drunks who you are and tell me ... ". The stinking drunk again I see my mother before me and this time we see a slight smile on my lips.
Chris breaks mid-sentence, his upper lip retreats like a furious Pinscher and he strikes.
I still think that the first punch I will get in his face, his real Christian is when everything exploded before my eyes in black dots.
Well, there seems to be really a first time for everything


I can speak of happiness that I was full on my first time (yes, this time I speak of sex). No alcohol would be a) not likely to come about and b) it would be me then still embarrassing. I can just keep it, check off any of the drunken escapades.
I know Vanessa from the Internet. I told her sit over straight and tell you how important I think that nothing can the state require, and in principle first anti-should be all (what a shit if you think today about this pseudo-punk drivel that one earlier from has to, overcome by a feeling that lies somewhere between severe nausea and suicidal desire).

At a time where the Internet is only in connection with AOL and T-ONLINE knew and chat eine völlig neue wahnsinnige Art war, mit Menschen aus aller Welt zu kommunizieren, lernte ich meine erste Freundin kennen. Was gibt es für einen besseren Weg, für einen unattraktiven, selbsternannten Frauenversteher, Mädels für mehr als nur Freundschaft kennen zu lernen, als das anonyme Internet in dem einfach jeder, ob Mann oder Frau ständig auf der Suche nach dem nächsten Fick ist. Ob es nun die Suche nach wirklichen treffen zum Vögeln oder hirnrissiger Cybersex sind (was übrigens klingt, wie das was Pierce Brosnan in „Der Rasenmähermann“ macht, mit 3D-Brille und dem ganzen Kram, aber eigentlich nur das austauschen von Fantasien hässlicher Leute ist, die behaupten sie wären die hübsche Person in the picture that they have just sent to another ugly people, which the same claim by another picture), which is about as exciting as before phone sex advertising or the lingerie pages to masturbate for the Otto-catalog, only you had not even has a visual stimulus. When I

Vanessa Teen in singles (oh god is it embarrassing, but I can shoot someone please?) Chat get to know it is late May, the sixteenth a few days before my birthday. We start to chat regularly tell us after 2 weeks of daily phone calls and letters that we love more than anything in the world and never to part again (3 months later, we will separate us, although we nie im eigentlichen Sinne zusammen waren und uns dann nie wieder sprechen, geschweige denn sehen) und machen aus, uns das erste mal auf dem Bizarre Festival in Weeze zu sehen. Ich habe die Karte zum Geburtstag bekommen und darf mit meinem Bruder fahren, sie wohnt in der Nähe und wollte sowieso dahin.
Wir beginnen uns über Sex zu unterhalten, es kommt zu Telefonsex (der nur ein Stück weniger bemitleidenswert ist als Cybersex) und wir nehmen uns vor, auf dem Bizarre beide unser erstes Mal miteinander zu haben. Wie Romantisch!

„… prinzipiell würde Anarchie natürlich funktionieren, man müsste es nur auf einen Versuch ankommen lassen, dass ist im hochkonservativen elitär legitimiertem Deutschland natürlich not possible! "I do not know that" legitimized elitist "makes no sense, I do not even know the meaning of these words, Vanessa but not as planned and is impressed. We sit across the last two hours, I scratch all the phrases that I know made up of German punk lyrics and cut out one by one. We both drink vodka sprite from plastic cups and the only thing I can think about is that I would later have with this beautiful girl sex. Because of me unknown reason, she likes me and I do not find repulsive enough ran to not let me. When we are drunk and my brother and his friends, who sat with us in the near, want to organize a bit of grass, we creep wild petting in my tent. Inside is her hand on my pants and my fast on her, I have the erection of my life and I long more for what follows, when the East after the Wall came down. At the same time I'm desperate, very uncertain what to do, it's all about the alcohol and hormone excess and I do what everyone does male teenagers in his first time.
private channel soft porn karaoke.
I slide my hand between her legs, her panties, just like on RTL 2 and it works great. She begins to writhe, moan, and probably just as with RTL 2, instead of acting out of passion Reasons, and I will continue with what I always do well there.
of a sudden I feel something, a small hill, surprisingly rough. Her clitoris shoot through my head and I focus on the newly discovered point. It works very well. It is more excited, everything is at once very quickly, they expressed to me and has (or play) an orgasm. She smiles at me and returned the favor.

minutes (not many) later, when we naked next to each other, she asks me if it would be bad that we had had no real sex, I deny. "You know why, maybe that's Saturday or Sunday." She says and smiles . Embarrassed "What do I know?". "Well, why can not we right?". "I thought you do not like, perhaps, have nothing further tries and as it was, I am also very happy." I try to smile charmingly with the strong feeling that I just something not at all drunk Peile but to understand it's me. "Because of my days I have noticed I am idiot, but that you must" "DD-your days? Um, I ... "She starts to laugh, loud and shrill And I thought you do that with the extra ribbon OB ..." she brings forth between a snort of "what did you think what it was?".

It turns out that I was not so wrong. The following discussion explains to me Vanessa for having me neutered unintentionally, especially for the following day by the laughter, (I should get in later further experiments with Vanessa, no more than half erect state, which then later because of my and their inferiority complexes to the separation out) that the OB ribbon, this little blue shit part, just lay on her clitoris. I have, therefore, causes the first appearance of a woman orgasm, randomly through the intensive editing a tampon, the tape I was mistaken for a part of the female sex organ.
I'm lying next to her, she laughs on my chest and holds the kind of cute, while each individual according to her laughter, hits me like a blow after another.



My face is numb and hurt my front teeth. When I wonder if Christian has probably broken my nose and I can sue his whole family so shitty, the fist strikes again in my face. My nose dangerous cracks and tears well up in my eyes. wine classes, such as a twelve-year-old would complete the catastrophe, of course.
I shout: "Alteeer ..." and try wegzuschubsen Christian, when he told me with full force, in my filled with beer and whiskey Magen schlägt. Ich schaffe es gerade so, von ein paar Kollateralschäden an den Hosenbeinen abgesehen, mich nicht selbst anzukotzen.
Christian springt angeekelt zur Seite, spuckt mir in einer unglaublich lächerlich wirkenden Mafiageste vor die Füße und dreht sich ohne ein weiteres Wort um.
Ich torkele an ein Schaufenster eines CD-Ladens, halte mich daran fest und sinke auf die Knie.
Meine Augen tränen nicht mehr, mein Gesicht fühlt sich an, als hätte ich es unter einen Presslufthammer gehalten, nur um mal zu gucken wie sich das anfühlt und in meinem Kopf existiert nichts mehr außer Wut. Ich sehe Chris etwas entfernt in eine Richtung schlendern, male mir aus, wie hochzufrieden er mit seiner heldenhaften Performance is a drunk to have beaten to save the honor of his dead friend.
I reach for a half-empty wine bottle next to me who is facing the window and run after him ....

be continued.

How To Repair Leather Rip At Seam

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Come straight to the next part is not really out of your ass ^ ^ later than Wednesday, promised