... I always thought that the finer things in life are small, meticulous containers. Are hours that way, uninterrupted hours between streets and alleys, in a continuous exhausting search.
passed by a pub, there is a window ... into a chair! It 'just past the lunch hour, maybe not. Beer, pint of beer! -It 's a strong call-and within us is all. The place is desert and I thirst. There is a delightful '60s music and I finally I see the bartender, give her a look.
E 'light-skinned, brown eyes, natural fiber, large Tits! I smile when I ask for a pint. The former must always be long, a long sip of beer, and smile again. She looks at me and smiled.
Small pleasures of life!
Seeking the chair, I spread on it, and its stench of sweat gives me the shivers.
Small Dis- pleasures of life! ...
on Flickr
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