Aug 3, 2011

The Restaurant

The waitress order me a whole kitchen of thoughts.
Now, I don´t want to look like I´m not wearing paints, but that´s too much.

On the way back home I call a friend to tell him my bones are not so good as they used to be,
but he was not home and my phone was speaking in some strange ancient language.

I refuse to give any explanation about this situations, because I´m very shy.

No comments:

Post a Comment