Ana Andújar.
surprised I did not have the formality that had to happen now: the chronic exposure of the facts, the broadcast of the match, ie, the confession of every data that had happened the following night ... my friends. When you are female, there is an unwritten code by which you swear to tell your life from birth in verse to the other females who get in your way and demanding call your friends.
So now I was in third grade in front of a beer, I could not say no. Breakfast was like 'Sex and the City' but without the lunch nor bloody marys at midmorning and Loewe bags above the chic coffee stools of Lincoln Avenue: here we do is find a cave where plus a few beers you give away more calorie cap to be found, while holding your 100% fake Mulberry White plastic between the feet to prevent you from stealing the $ 5 and used Kleenex in it. In Africa is different, however, the content is the same: a few hours of gossip, data compare and shameful.
So there was no salvation. When in this city you happen to do something like make an appointment to an unknown type, you had to explain to the board: it was like going back to the era in which "roll yourself." That was an era that I miss in part. Partly yes, because they were tender moments hormone and evil: as a teenager, began to develop the ability to use your sexuality as a weapon.
This meant that stayed with the gang, some were going to the arcade, others were taking a couple of Ripple, doing your market research, and if he was good (also model was fashionable "covenant" where were your friends, those dealing with who were going to get you hand) could end the evening (by then it was time for the 8 courses) by rolling with quinqui of your love. And the good thing is that there was any tension, it was assumed (or maybe that was what I thought you and the poor guy was thinking wet) that you were going to spend a couple of hours and thousands of innocent magreo, many babas.
A mononucleosis was then almost a trophy, behind the hickey murderers. Funny how morrearte not get enough of someone, give you hit, perhaps with a hand on her ass during so long. Heater often you took it home, I imagine those children loaded up the axes, and up came home and I hope the Mama Chicho on TV ... Now the kids, with so much sexual energy in the environment, such number of Antena3 with Mario Casas sweating, so Hanna Montana country turned into fox, are drawn to try to sleep with someone as soon as possible. Generation 'Physics and Chemistry' has made them believe that you can fuck in the bathroom of the school as if nothing ... and we thought we rebels hiding there to smoke.
I rambled on these issues because in a post-event interview, questions absurd to equate those days, like "Did you hit tits? "(which was most Gulf) and is subdivided into the following:" but why inside or outside? . " What time, so that you touch your tits "out." I have a point dear to almost make you want to claim.
The fact is that the appointment had not been bad, but certainly not lucky enough to touch me tits out. You know that an appointment was not bad when the other party comes at the right time at the right time .... and alone. There is no point when it appears with a friend who says he goes away. No sir, that friend is there if you need an emergency exit, as when Bonnie Clyde waiting with the engine running, attention, orc in sight! In what the hell was I thinking! That Friend rifle has to go out of your sight for the second part of an event goes well. If you do, is that the other party is not bud as might appear, so you can go for a drink.
then have to choose a neutral bar, went to a local general style center, those who start putting IKEA furniture, add a picture of the Moulin Rouge , put a couple of neon lights under the bar and are the bane of decorators and epilepsy. Also, the music had to be equally fair: see a top 40 fund. After the third rod discovered something in common: I liked him Britpop and American hardcore, so we both ears were bleeding at the site.
continued ...
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