Als ich am Sonntag mit meinen Hunden Gassi ging, kam ich an der Christlichen Gemeinde in unserem Dorf vorbei. Für diese Freikirche Schrägstrich Sekte habe ich nie viel übrig gehabt, doch jetzt, im strömenden nachmittäglichen Regen, taten sie mir fast ein bißchen leid. Das hier sollte ihr Sommerfest sein, und sie kauerten sich hilfesuchend unter Regenschirme und Vordächer. Das Volleyballturnier ward ersatzlos gestrichen, die Würstchen schmeckten also anyone rightly so. In passing, I thought to myself: Peter must be a Catholic. For pirates of the faith he has little left.
Little has left the interested reader for abrupt change of topic. But so be it: My life is a bit like Bossa Nova. Since it is not about the play, but rendered solely to the notes. The opposite of virtuosity so.
evening was still Atze Oscar Wilde over a beer. Gave me quite right and said: My only genius I've ever used on my life, in my books put only my talent. Then another Iserlohn. Prost.
When the British visit was again reeled off, I still up for some fun and playing into the Internet completely drunk. There I was suddenly very different. The people of this anger, it also had no more time on it. Your blog has become far too fictitious, the masquerades of the irony of silly and private, to have more world levels, experiences or thoughts are identified. Pfui Deibel. Who reads that?
So here's me, for knocking out fine, finally even the most naked, pure, raw and throbbing life: Last night, long before the summer festival and wild verplästerten visit, I felt incredibly alone. I woke up and suddenly had the feeling that the last human being on earth. But then I discovered happily that there was something someone because in that moment I saw the beautiful naked woman lying next to me on the bed and smiled at me somehow totally up and running. Their irresistible Kleiderlosigkeit their unbridled passion sprang towards me really - from the expanded middle part of the day before I buy men's magazines.
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