I like it rough
When I opened the page on livejournal, so to update the world on my salad juicy cock, I saw the number 13 next to the words "messages". I was superstitious I immediately closed the page, awaiting the day in which 13 would be magically transformed in 14, then reopen it lightly. But since they are neither superstitious nor a believer, maybe a little 'Boccalon, I opened the message folder without fear believing that he has acquired a curious popularity in recent weeks, which did increase a bit' my self-esteem; 11 spam messages. And two old eons.
Self-esteem is back to sleep in his old spot six feet under.
However I'm not going to give the salad without dressing or talking in futility without reaching the core of the speech "Flat-spotted my affairs on the web, so I have news: I cut my hair.
After two years of sacrifice in which, for every heat wave, I cursed every single living being who had half my hair on the head (same thing I did when I woke up and seemed to mop the toilet, it was hot, cold or nuclear winter) I sent to the guillotine 20 cm of hair fluttering.
A little 'because they lost a little' because I wanted to change but not enough courage to do so, and yet it takes no time to take that ' ounce of courage that can be used in deciding to cut her hair, which, inter alia, grow at a dizzying pace just like two years ago.
I only regret that this decision was not popular with the enthusiasm that, after all, it's nice to show times, though ... but not for facades I can only aspire to lie as a compliment, right?
Just be convinced of my choice, after all.
0 comments:
Post a Comment